Dancing with Detective Danger

by Lynn Crandall

  City lights sparkled loudly, announcing the close of another day and nagging at her in chorus with the wall clock. A third day on the case was drawing to an end with still no breaks. Each day’s passing meant the trail was just that much colder, making the odds of locating the wayward Jerry just that much slimmer. It gnawed at her, like the hungry growl of an empty stomach.

  Interviews with neighbors at the condo and in the Rutherford neighborhood had netted Sterling nothing she hadn’t already known. Still, maybe tomorrow I’ll canvas the neighborhoods again. Maybe I’ll stake out the Rutherfords’ home tomorrow evening. Something’s got to budge.

  “Keeping late hours is hard on your health, you know.”

  Sterling’s heart jumped into her throat, and she whirled to face the familiar intruder. “Ben! What are you doing walking in on me like that?”

  The sweet half-smile popped out onto his lips, making her heart do flip-flops.

  “The door was open. You really ought to consider locking it after hours, beautiful.” He made himself at home on the couch, resting his head against the back cushion, and closing his eyes.

  A shadow of a beard darkened his features. Relaxed, his eyes closed, Ben’s face beckoned her to touch the hollow places in his cheeks and caress the furrowed spot between his eyes.

  “I take it it’s been a long day for you, too,” she said. Knowing the warmth growing inside her, she almost felt guilty letting her eyes linger on him.

  Lazily, he raised his lids. “Come sit down, you look beat.” Ben motioned to the cushion beside him. “I bet you haven’t eaten dinner yet, have you?”

  She gave in. Her heart pounded out a staccato beat inside her chest, but as her head rested against the back of the couch, she didn’t care. Sterling closed her eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath, and with it came the scent of him. No exotic, expensive cologne or anything she could put a name to. Just Ben’s scent. As with so many times before, it went through her like sweet medicine for her soul.

  “So, what do you say, how about going with me for a nice dinner out?”

  Sterling let herself enjoy the soothing effects of the nearness of Ben for another moment. He didn’t even know he had this effect on her. He couldn’t know. And she wouldn’t tell him. That would be the in he seemed to be dying for. A little grin escaped her lips. Dying for. Funny she’d think of it like that.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She opened her eyes and found herself looking into his, two pools of deep blue that caught her breath.

  “Nothing.” After all, dying was anything but funny. Ben’s expression remained unchanged, but Sterling could hear his thoughts, and he clearly knew more than she wanted him to know.

  “Sterling, we’re so alike, you and me.” His face close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her skin, Ben’s voice was low and throaty.

  Her breathing picked up pace to match the rapid flutter of her heart. “Oh really? You think you still know me, Ben?”

  “I know what makes you see red, what makes you laugh, and what touches your heart,” he said, gently laying his hand on hers. “I know what makes you get up in the morning and face each day despite the gaping hole deep inside your heart. We’ve both known the dark side of life and it’s done something to us.”

  His eyes wouldn’t let go. She felt painfully laid open. This was forbidden territory, even for him. No, especially for him, because he should know better. “And how does this make us so alike?” she asked, numbness seeping through her veins.

  He flinched, almost in slow motion. “Don’t play dumb, Sterling.”

  “Then don’t play psychiatrist.” Gathering her senses, she slid by him and walked across the room. She didn’t glance at him, but she could feel him sink. There’s nothing I can do about it, she thought to herself, shoving aside the near instinctive need to comfort him. “Besides, if we’re so alike, then you know what’s really making me see red is the Witt case. Do you have anything for me?”

  • • •

  Ben paused, staring at her, his eyes searching. But she’d brought up her defenses — she was numb.

  Finally, he answered. “I was right about the black sedan’s plates. It was a rental car rented with a fake ID. And Dewberry’s office was clean.”

  Sterling’s eyes widened. “Dewberry’s office was clean? No prints?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What about the envelope? Did you lift anything useful off that?”

  “Again, nothing. That’s all I’ve got right now. You’ll have to wait for the reports if you want anything else.” Why did he keep trying? Whenever he sensed her heart opening a crack, she slammed it closed in his face.

  “You know what that means,” she stated, more than asked.

  The tired slump of her shoulders had disappeared and the traces of sadness that moments ago had laced her voice were gone. Not that I’m surprised. The case takes her mind to places she can handle. “It means I want you to close the case with your client.”

  Hands on her hips, Sterling chortled. “Excuse me? You want me to what?”

  Ben stepped toward the door. “C’mon, I bet you haven’t eaten since breakfast. Let me buy you a late dinner at that hamburger place you like. Happy’s Diner. I bet they’re still serving.”

  “Stop changing the subject. This is a break. A small break, but nonetheless, a break, a lead, a direction to follow. Dewberry’s murder was a professional hit. That means Pamela and Jerry were mixed up with some really bad guys. Did you ID the prints on the photos?”

  Ben stared at her again. Her mind caught up in the case, her spirit sparked to life and fire burned hot in her eyes. She was like a wild horse captured in a corral, ready to break loose. This was Sterling. So alive and fearless. But right now, he wanted to just hold her, talk sense into her. He caught her shoulders and forced her to face him. “You said it yourself. These people are really bad. I want you to step away.”

  Sterling’s eyes glistened. Her lips, inches from his, slowly parted and a smile appeared. “Not a chance.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You’re so stubborn!” Ben dropped his hands and shook his head.

  “Maybe. But you can’t seriously be suggesting I walk away from a case. It’s what I do, remember? I solve cases and get paid. That’s how I can pay my bills. Why can’t you take my work seriously?”

  Sterling stood looking up at him with those eyes the color of the Mediterranean Sea, and all he could think of was himself. How much he’d longed for her, and how much he couldn’t stand it if some low-life …

  “I’m waiting for your answer.”

  The room was closing in on him, and it felt like something had sucked all the air out. “I’m sorry, Sterling.”

  “That’s it? That’s your answer?”

  Her eyes demanded the truth. “Are you really prepared to deal with the type of people involved in this case? They’re probably into drug dealing, money laundering, who knows what else. Obviously killing doesn’t bother them.”

  “They don’t scare me.” Sterling’s chin inched up just a bit.

  “I know that. And that’s what scares me. A little healthy fear is good.”

  “That’s a funny thing to hear coming out of your mouth,” she said, inclining her head.

  “I told you, I’ve changed. Why can’t you see that?”

  “All I see is the same Ben I’ve always known. You’re wearing a suit now, that’s the only difference. You forget, I was there today when we went after the driver that tried to run us over. I saw how you still take to that stuff.”

  Resolutely, Sterling crossed her arms over chest.

  “I’m just doing my job. Yeah, maybe I get a kick out of it, but that doesn’t mean I’m out of control.” Ben felt an urgency to say the words so Sterling would finally get it, but by the set in her stance
, he could tell he wasn’t making much headway. “Could it be you see only what you want to see? That way you don’t have to face your own feelings.”

  His remark hit home, drawing her brow down. “We can’t keep doing this,” Sterling said.

  “You’re right.” He dared a touch to her cheek, thinking he’d rather die than hurt her. “I guess this is hard for both of us. But I don’t know what we do instead, Sterling. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “You have to let go and let me do my job.”

  Ben shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe so. But I don’t have to like it. Truce?” he offered, even though he wanted so much more.

  Sterling closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as he waited. Was he really asking so much?

  Finally, she breathed out and opened those piercingly lovely eyes. “Truce.”

  “Now, how about that burger?”

  “You buy?”

  She gave him a smile and Ben felt the air begin to move again. “I’m buying.”

  • • •

  Sitting comfortably across the table from him in the subdued lighting of Happy’s Diner, Ben gazed at her, a twinkle shining in his eyes.

  “These fries are great,” he said.

  Sterling nodded, her mouth full of hamburger, pickle, and lettuce. Her stomach took to the food as fast as she could put it into her mouth. Ben had been right — she’d skipped lunch and dinner. A breakfast of toast and raspberry jam had left her famished long ago.

  It felt good to see the shine in Ben’s eyes. Since the day she ran into him at the Witt murder scene, he’d kept his eyes veiled, keeping her out. Others might not ever notice, but she recognized it. Even when they’d been intimate, the veil had remained. It was there for a reason, she knew. She’d put it there.

  “So, catch me up. What’s been happening in your life during the last two years? Have you been happy?”

  Sterling nearly choked. Can’t we just stick to talking about the fries? “Such a serious question.” She eyed him over a sip from her decaf coffee. He was waiting. “You know everything. After I left the department, Lacey and I opened the agency. Work has been steady, we’ve been doing okay.”

  “Do you enjoy your work?”

  Why couldn’t Ben just stop aiming those eyes at her? Sterling couldn’t hide from them. “I find it satisfying, yes. And it’s been good for Lacey since Nicholas’s death.”

  “Are you happy?” he persisted.

  Dropping her glance to the pile of ketchup on her plate, Sterling measured her words. “Happiness isn’t something I really think about.”

  “I see.”

  “Can I refill your coffee?” the waitress asked, and Sterling nodded. Ben shifted his gaze to the young woman and held out his cup.

  Taking another bite from her hamburger, Sterling’s mouth went dry and she could hardly taste the food that had hit the spot just moments before.

  The waitress gone, Sterling swallowed hard. “What does ‘I see’ mean?”

  Ben leaned close. “You sold out.”

  “Can’t we just have a nice dinner without you analyzing what’s wrong with me? Let’s talk about something like the weather,” she said, shifting in her seat. Her napkin fell and when she bent to pick it up, someone at the checkout caught her attention. “That’s odd.”

  “What?” Ben turned to see the checkout.

  “Don’t turn around,” Sterling ordered. “Something’s not right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The woman at the cash register is putting money from the cash drawer into what looks like a manila envelope, and the guy standing there seems, um, twitchy.”

  “Twitchy, as in maybe he’s sticking up the place?” Alertness flashed in Ben’s eyes, belying his calm appearance.

  Ben exchanged a look with her, and Sterling knew what he had in mind.

  Slowly, he eased out of the booth and sauntered the few feet to the checkout, while she sat poised, her stomach tight.

  “Excuse me,” she heard Ben say. “Is that a gun you’re holding inside your pocket?”

  Startled, the man took a step back. “Get back, I don’t want to use this,” he threatened, pulling out a revolver. “Now hurry up with the money!”

  Sterling’s attention was locked on the scene unfolding in front of her. Ben continued to walk toward the gunman, and she didn’t dare aggravate the situation by stepping in too soon. But God, the man has a gun!

  “I know you don’t want any trouble.” Ben’s voice was smooth and commanding. “But the minute you came in here, you invited trouble. Now put down the gun.”

  “I told you to get back!” The man shifted his feet and shook the gun toward Ben. “Who do you think you are, Superman?”

  “No, not Superman, Detective Kirby, smucko!”

  With the mighty power and deftness of a mountain lion, Ben grabbed the nose of the revolver at the same time he kicked the man’s feet out from under him. The man slammed to the floor with a loud groan, and the force of the fall sent the gun flying across the polished linoleum floor.

  As startled screams filled the restaurant, Sterling jumped for the revolver, drew it up, and aimed the barrel down at the man sprawled on the floor. “Freeze, scumbag.”

  Ben cuffed him and hauled him to his feet, while directing the cashier to call the police department.

  “You sure picked the wrong day to rob this place, fool,” Ben said, shoving the man into a chair. “Now sit still. I don’t like having my meal interrupted. I might not hit you if you don’t move a muscle.”

  “Detective, please, allow me to give you dinner on the house for you and your lady friend,” offered the restaurant manager. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “That sounds like thanks enough, sir.” Ben winked cheerily at Sterling.

  Her heart melted. As clichéd as it was, Ben’s strength and easy assuredness did something for her. It made her feel safe. Sure, she could take care of herself, but Ben made it so she didn’t always have to. It was a luxury she’d seldom been unable to relax into since her father’s death.

  “What do you say, Sterling, feel like finishing our coffee?”

  With the would-be robber safely stuffed inside a patrol car and on his way to be booked at the station, Sterling again gazed at Ben across the table, her senses exhilarated to match his.

  “Nice job, Sterling. I knew you and I were on the same wave length.”

  He sent shivers running down her back with the sultry look steaming in his eyes. “All that really made your pulse rev, didn’t it?”

  A little half-smirk lifted the corners of his lips. “Yeah. It always gives me a buzz to help out innocent people. Maybe that guy will be kept off the streets for a while, so who knows how many people we helped. And you liked it, too,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  Ben’s touch sent her heart skipping, but Sterling steadied herself. “Yes, I liked putting him away without anyone getting hurt.”

  “There’s more, admit it.” Ben turned her hand over and peered at it, tracing the lines in her palm. “You like the risk.”

  “I admit I take to the challenge, but the risk, no. I do not need that adrenaline push like you do. I’m perfectly happy with my work. As dull as you think it must be, I help people, too.” Her breath dragging through the pounding of her heart, Sterling pulled her hand away and tucked it under the table. “We’ve been all through this, Ben.”

  His eyes met hers, heat spilling out of them. “I just want you to be happy, and I think you sold out on yourself. Living used to be a thrill for us. We challenged it. Now you’ve tried to wall up in some kind of a cocoon where you feel a degree of control over your life. You don’t have to deal with complicated things like feelings.” Ben lifted his coffee cup to his lips, never taking his eyes off h
er.

  “Look, life is full of trade-offs.” Sterling squirmed in her seat. “You can’t tell me you haven’t made any. You’ve made some changes. You traded undercover work for investigations.”

  Ben leaned back in his chair, contemplating. “Some trade-offs are prudent, but some are just nuts.”

  “You make it sound so simple. Sometimes the choice is merely the lesser of two evils.” She knew exactly what he was talking about, and it bothered her. A lot.

  His brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize you considered me evil.”

  “You? Never.” Sterling picked at the remains of her dinner, avoiding his eyes. Now it was clear to her why they came at each other with fists — it made a safe boundary. Allowing emotional intimacy was acutely painful. “You are a self-indulgent, wild-hearted pest.”

  Ben let loose an indiscernible scoff. “Please, don’t mince words. Tell me how you really feel.”

  Without raising her gaze, she continued, her hands fisted on the table. “And you’re the most interesting, exciting, and gentle man I’ve ever known.” Finally, she met his look.

  Ben lifted an eyebrow in surprise, but she went on.

  “But I can’t be with you. It would be more than I could stand to get accustomed to spending all of my days and nights with you and then have to face that day.”

  Leaning in, he put his hand on hers. “What day, Sterling?”

  His voice sounded so gentle and warm — how could she make him understand? “The day I get the call informing me of your death,” she finished, nearly leaping from her chair. She couldn’t stand the feelings threatening to tear her apart. “I have to go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “I’ll take you, wait,” he called.

  “I’ll take the bus.”

  • • •

  She’d lied. Not about riding the bus. But when it pulled to her stop, Sterling stepped off and headed in the other direction. The last place she wanted to be was where Ben might find her.