Special Assignment

by Ann Voss Peterson

  Cassie.

  Damn. The woman didn’t listen and it had nothing to do with her inability to hear. At least she was still half a block behind him. Even if he ran smack into whoever had broken into her apartment, she would be far enough behind to be safe.

  Or so he hoped.

  Where the hell were those police sirens? There had to be officers downtown. So where were they?

  He rounded the corner, bracing a hand on the brick to keep his balance without slowing down.

  A silhouette moved out of the shadow a block away. Dark hair, dark clothing. That had to be him. A car idled near the curb.

  Mike’s breath roared in his ears. His heart felt as if it would pound right through his ribs. He pushed his legs to move faster. He still had half a block to go.

  The dark figure ran to the car and ducked inside. He closed the door behind him as the car pulled out and roared toward him.

  Mike screeched to a halt. He focused on the car, a dark sedan. Maybe an older Taurus. He scanned the bumper. No license plate.

  The car drew closer. The passenger window inched down.

  Holy hell. Mike’s gut clenched and rose into the vicinity of his throat. He needed to find cover. If the guy had a gun, he was a goner.

  He raced for the curb and ducked behind a parked minivan.

  The sedan drove past. No shots fired. Nothing. It moved slowly past him and continued down the street.

  Mike followed its movement toward the corner. Cassie popped out from around the building, following the path he’d just taken. Her hair glowed like darkened flame in the streetlights. Her pale cheeks flushed pink from exertion.

  The sedan continued its slow approach. Its window lowered farther. The barrel of a gun poked through the open space.

  Rising to his feet, Mike launched into a dead run. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought she’d be safe?

  His muscles burned. His feet stung as they slapped the concrete. He yelled, his message more bellow than words.

  Cassie watched him, a confused look on her face. She slowed her steps but kept moving toward him. Toward the sedan.

  The crack of gunfire split the air.

  Chapter Seven

  Cassie froze, staring at the small puff of dust exploding from the brick six inches from her head. What in the world? She looked to Mike, watching him race toward her. Fast, yet in slow motion. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. She just watched, unable to process what was going on.

  Mike grabbed her arm. He pulled her toward the cars parked along the curb. He yanked her to the ground.

  Her knees hit concrete, the force shuddering up her spine. She felt a sound stir in her chest, the vibration of a scream.

  Mike came down on top of her. The weight of his body pressed her flat to the sidewalk, making breath whoosh from her lungs.

  Gunfire. That’s what it was. Someone was shooting at them from the car. Someone was trying to kill them. Trying to kill her.

  Heat shot through her, followed by cold. A chill that burrowed into her bones, making her shake from the inside out. Face against concrete, she couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t tell what was going on. Were they still shooting? Had the car stopped? Circled back? She struggled to raise her head, to see something, anything in the darkness.

  Mike shifted his weight, pressing her more securely to the ground.

  Second ticked after second, passing as slowly as hours. Were they still shooting? She didn’t know. Damn this silence in her head. If she’d been able to hear the shots, she would have known what was happening. She would have been able to react.

  If Mike hadn’t pulled her down, she would be dead.

  A scream welled in her throat. She pushed it back. Pushed it down. She had to remain calm. She had to be strong. Whatever happened, she had to stay in control.

  Finally Mike moved his head. A heartbeat later he lifted his weight off her. Gripping her arm in one hand, he pulled her up.

  Her legs shook. Her muscles sagged, about as able to support her weight as jelly.

  Mike slipped an arm around her back, under her armpits. Half dragging and half carrying her, he guided her around the corner of the building and to the front entrance. He pulled on the door. Locked.

  And her keys were in her purse, which she’d dropped in the hall outside her apartment.

  It wasn’t hard to read Mike’s lips, even in the dark. “Damn, damn, damn. Where are those sirens? Where are the freaking sirens?”

  Cassie forced herself to stand upright, to move, to think. She stepped to the doorbell panel next to the front door and started punching buttons. She couldn’t hear if anyone answered. She just hoped one of her neighbors would buzz the door open without even finding out who was outside.

  Maybe the same way whoever had wrecked her pottery had gotten in.

  Mike leaned over the intercom. He pushed the button. “This is Detective Mike Lawson of the Denver Police Department. I need you to open the door.” He hesitated for a second, then scowled.

  Apparently whoever had answered did not want to let a police officer inside. Cassie pushed the button. “I’m Cassie Allen. I live in apartment Three B. Please, buzz us in.”

  Another scowl from Mike.

  Even she wasn’t welcome in her own building.

  Mike’s head jerked around. Cassie followed his line of vision.

  A dark sedan turned down the street and headed straight toward them.

  Her stomach lurched into her throat. She was going to be sick. All over the sidewalk. Whoever was in that car could just mow her down while she was on her knees retching.

  Mike grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the doorway and down the sidewalk away from the approaching car.

  She willed her stomach to stay calm. She forced her legs to function, to hold her weight, to match Mike stride for stride. They raced down the sidewalk.

  The car drew closer. She could feel it, dark like an ominous force. She braced herself for the puff of dust that signaled a bullet pinging off the brick.

  Or worse, the pain of lead digging into flesh.

  They reached the side of the building that flanked the pedestrian mall, weaving around planters and the smattering of people. Partway down the block, Mike pulled her into a darkened doorway and pushed her down to the ground. He crouched in front of her, shielding her with his body.

  Tears pressed at the back of her eyes and fuzzed the edge of her vision. She struggled to pull one dusty breath after another into her lungs. She had to hold it together. As frightened as she was, she couldn’t lose control.

  Outside the doorway, the sedan’s dark outline crept down the cross street, hunting, stalking. It paused in clear view of the doorway.

  She took in a breath and held it. She pressed closer to Mike, praying that they blended with the darkness. Seconds ticked by. Questions raced through her mind. Had they been spotted?

  Finally, slowly, the car continued down the street.

  Thank you, God.

  She let out the breath and scooped dusty air into her starving lungs. The tremble in her chest grew and expanded until it claimed her whole body.

  Mike squeezed her to him, then released and searched her eyes. His face was flushed behind the bruises, the muscles in his jaw and neck tight. “Are you okay?”

  Okay? She was far from okay. She doubted she’d ever be okay again. She nodded.

  “I’m so sorry about that. God, I’m so sorry.”

  Sorry? What was he talking about? She opened her mouth to answer. She wanted to speak out loud, speak so he could hear her, but her voice caught in her throat. You saved my life, she signed with fingers shaking so badly they had to be nearly impossible to read.

  “You never should have been in danger in the first place. If I hadn’t been so bullheaded, so set on nailing the person who tossed your apartment, you wouldn’t have come so close to…” He dropped his focus to the floor.

  She shook her head and cleared her throat. “You saved my life, Mike.”r />
  She didn’t know if it was the timbre of her voice, the raw emotion that threatened to choke her, or just the way she’d said his name, but he raised his eyes and met hers.

  She could feel the hot rush of tears streaming down her face. She could feel the grip on her emotions disintegrating. She couldn’t do anything to stop any of it. A sob bubbled from her lips. Then another. Soon she was gasping for breath, drowning in a flood of emotion.

  Mike tightened his arm, pulling her to his shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re alive. We’re okay.” He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.

  She kissed him back. Over and over. Unable to stop. She clung to him, vulnerable, weak, everything she didn’t want to be. Everything she promised herself she’d never give into. But she couldn’t do anything to stop it. All she wanted at that moment was to have Mike’s arms around her. All she wanted was for him to take care of her and she didn’t care about the consequences.

  God help her.

  “THE DENVER PD NEVER SHOWED.” Mike watched the faces of the two Prescott Personal Securities agents Evangeline had sent to Cassie’s apartment. The two agents were about as different as night and day.

  The woman, Mike knew. Lily Clark, a little blond pixie with a spontaneous streak who, until recently, had worked as a police officer with the Denver PD. He’d always liked Lily, though at times she seemed too smart for her own good. Still, she’d been a good officer, and he had to admit it was nice to have a former cop around to help him talk this out.

  The other, Cameron Morgan, was built as if he could play for the Denver Broncos. Even taller than Mike’s six foot one, Cameron was ex-military and it showed in the way he carried his body. Tense and ready. As if at any given time, he was ready to either go out for a pass or jump from a helicopter.

  “How did you get back here?”

  Mike exchanged looks with Cassie. The salty taste of her tears still clung to his lips. He didn’t have to close his eyes to remember the shudder of her sobs against his chest.

  She was the first to look away. She signed slowly, Mike filling in the gaps verbally when the agents didn’t understand. We waited until the car passed and doubled back. A neighbor finally let us back into the building.

  Lily nodded. “I can poke around, find out why the police didn’t show.”

  “I know why they didn’t show. Because it was me who called.” A cop’s biggest nightmare. Calling for backup and being hung out to dry. “I should have seen it coming. I betrayed the brotherhood, they betrayed me right back.”

  Lily shook her head. “You took down some dirty cops. Just three criminals in a whole department of good cops. It was your duty.”

  “That’s not the way they see it. Even my old man thinks I should have handled the Dirty Three differently, that I should have cleaned things up quietly from the inside, not gone public. He would probably agree that I deserved this tonight. But Cassie didn’t.” The fear that had gripped Mike’s chest when he’d seen the gun barrel poke through the open window had turned to a vaguely nauseous unease. But the memory hadn’t faded. The shooter hadn’t fired at him. He’d gone straight for Cassie. “I guess Evangeline was right about that disk being important.”

  Cameron glanced around the wreckage of Cassie’s apartment. “I guess so.”

  “And that’s why we’re here,” Lily said. She started unpacking the equipment cases she and Cameron had brought with them. “First, we’re going to dust for prints. If we can identify whoever trashed this place, we have our shooter, right? Or at least someone who is working with our shooter.”

  Mike helped unpack the metallic powder and magnetic applicators, clear tape and white cards that made up the fingerprinting kit. “I can probably talk my partner into running these through AFIS.” Grady had only to flash that goofy smile and Lois, the print analyst, would run anything he wanted through the Automated Fingerprint Identification System.

  “Good. If you have problems, let me know,” Lily said. “I still have some favors to collect.”

  “And Evangeline has contacts none of us even know about.” Cameron lifted a series of cameras and small microphones out of their cases and arranged them on the table.

  You’re wiring my apartment? Cassie signed, gesturing at the devices.

  Cameron nodded. “I know Pinto is the expert when it comes to setting this stuff up. But he’s on assignment, so you get me.”

  I’ve seen you do a pretty darn good job of setting up the tech equipment, Cam, Cassie signed.

  Cameron dipped his head. “Thanks. I try. I’m going to be in the surveillance van outside tonight. If they come back, we’ll be ready. Lenny has some great toys here that he just developed.”

  Glad to help test them. Cassie smiled, but the curve of her lips was shaky at best. I’ll help you set them up.

  Mike focused on the fingerprint kit. He wanted nothing more than to wrap Cassie in his arms and whisk her off to somewhere far away. Someplace where he could keep her safe, take care of her. Someplace where he didn’t need backup.

  While Cassie and Cameron planted cameras and microphones throughout the apartment, Lily and Mike dusted metallic powder onto the surfaces the intruder had likely touched. Using the clear tape, they lifted the prints they found and affixed them to white cards. When Cassie had finished helping Cameron with the equipment, Mike inked her fingers and rolled her fingers on cards of their own. Once they had eliminated Cassie’s prints from the fingerprints they collected, those left were possibly the intruder’s.

  Cameron packed up the remainder of the equipment. Strapping the cases over his broad shoulders, he stepped to the door. “I’ll get set up outside. We should be live in fifteen minutes or so.” He shut the door with a bang.

  Cassie finished washing the ink from her hands. Fetching a broom and dustpan from a closet, she moved to the far side of the room and started sweeping up the glass from the broken window.

  Mike checked to see that she wasn’t watching before he approached Lily. “Are you staying with Cassie?”

  The blonde looked up from the table where she was packing up the fingerprint-lifting supplies. “I’m going to another assignment.”

  “Cassie can’t stay here by herself.”

  She frowned up at him. “Aren’t you staying?”

  Him?

  The memory of the moments in the doorway shimmered through his blood. He wanted to stay. Too much. And that was precisely why he shouldn’t. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  Across the room, Cassie had moved to her office area and the pieces of pottery littering the floor.

  “Why not? With Cameron out front, you don’t need to worry about whether our brothers in blue are going to jerk you around. Oh, and there’s this.” Lily dipped a hand into one of the cases she’d carried up and pulled out a Glock, a holster and two boxes of ammunition. “We heard you lost both of your pieces.”

  He picked up the weapon and checked the breech. “Thanks.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  How could he explain how he’d felt holding Cassie in his arms in the doorway? How could he say that he liked her too much to be the one she relied on? The one who might just let her down?

  “Convinced of what?” The mellow tones of Cassie’s voice came from behind him.

  He turned to look at her. He’d never walked away from anything in his life, but he needed to walk away now. Didn’t he? He pictured himself walking to the door, opening it, stepping out and keeping going. He imagined lying in his bed back at the ranch, not knowing what was happening to Cassie, not knowing what danger she faced, not knowing if she was crying or frightened or about to do something brave and completely stupid. “Whether I’ll ever be a cop again.”

  “You’re going to quit the police force?”

  Strangely enough, he could imagine that more easily than he could imagine walking away from Cassie right now. “I don’t know. I was just thinking out loud.”

  Lily nodded. “Well, that’s all for me. I�
��ll tell Cam it’s a go. And I’ll see the two of you at the office tomorrow.”

  CASSIE EYED the cameras and microphones she’d helped Cameron place in strategic parts of the apartment. Cameron would be able to see nearly everything she and Mike did, hear everything they said. If it weren’t for the fact that she’d almost been killed just a few hours before, she’d feel as if she was part of a TV reality series.

  But that wasn’t what was freaking her out. The thing that had her insides twitching was the prospect of Mike spending the night. Spending the night after what had happened between them.

  Grabbing two glasses, she stuffed them into the cupboard, clinking them against the other glasses despite efforts to keep her hands steady.

  She was being ridiculous, behaving like that hormone-driven teenager, but she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t used to being weak in front of other people. She wasn’t used to falling apart. And she certainly wasn’t used to desperately throwing herself at a man. Even if it was during life-threatening circumstances.

  Of course, she wasn’t exactly used to life-threatening circumstances, either.

  And now she didn’t know if it was just her, or if it was the kiss they’d shared that charged the air between them. But whatever it was, she had to deal with it. She had to put it aside and go back to being strong, being comfortable, being herself. She couldn’t go through the night feeling this out of control.

  At least if she and Mike signed, Cam probably wouldn’t be able to understand most of what they were talking about.

  Picking up the last of the dishes from the floor, she crossed to the center of the room where Mike crouched on the floor, collecting the papers strewn on the area rug under her piano. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself to the floor near him and shuffled some papers together. She’d better get this over with. I’m sorry. About earlier.

  Mike looked up from his stack of papers. About what? Getting upset? I think you have a right after all that’s happened.