Special Assignment

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Special Assignment Page 7

by Ann Voss Peterson

If only that’s all she’d done. About everything.

  He gave her an understanding smile. You’re not used to losing control, are you?

  Not used to it? She never lost control. She certainly wasn’t weak and desperate. Not in front of others. No. I can’t afford to.

  Because you’re deaf.

  Because people are always waiting for me to be weak. For me to give them an excuse to take care of me.

  People?

  My parents, I guess. And my brother.

  He lowered his eyebrows as if he disapproved.

  She waved her hands, trying to erase the impression she’d given. It’s not like you think. They care about me. It’s just that they were with me when it happened.

  When you lost your hearing?

  She nodded. She didn’t like thinking about that day. Even now the whole thing felt surreal. As if it hadn’t happened to her. As if it couldn’t have.

  How did it happen?

  She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to talk about it. But the way Mike was watching her—no pity in his eyes, just a calm question—the memory didn’t seem so scary this time. For the first time since it had happened, she felt that maybe she could talk about it. I was in college, living in the dorm. And I just woke up one morning with dizziness and a whooshing sound in my ear.

  Did you have it checked out?

  Oh, yeah. I thought it was a cold at first or a sinus infection. My mom picked me up at the dorm and took me to the doctor. They put me through a ton of tests and an MRI, but they didn’t find anything. Finally they guessed a virus of some kind had led to me developing something they call Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss. Really, they didn’t know what caused it. She shrugged and gave him a smile. But I guess I’m a rarity.

  He returned the gesture, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling and making him look more like a rugged cowboy than a city police detective. I could have told you that.

  Smart ass.

  A chuckle shook his chest. So how are you a rarity?

  Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss usually only affects one ear. For me, it was both. She gave another shrug. Just lucky, I guess.

  Yeah, lucky. His smile faded. My brother was born deaf.

  That’s tough. At least I could hear for my first twenty years.

  He shook his head. It wasn’t like that. He didn’t really understand what he was missing. I think it would be harder to know what it was like to hear and lose it.

  Maybe he had a point. She hadn’t looked at it that way before. It was tough at first. Especially with my family hovering over me. And my boyfriend…

  Your boyfriend? Mike prodded.

  She shook her head. It ended shortly after I became deaf.

  Mike’s brows dipped. He had a problem with it? He leaned forward as if he was ready to scramble to his feet and beat the crap out of the guy.

  She held up her hands and tried not to acknowledge the pleasure she felt at his reaction. He felt sorry for me and tried to take care of me, is all. Well, he tried to take care of me a little too much. Made me feel I had suddenly become his poor invalid sister instead of his girlfriend.

  Stupid guy.

  Cassie shifted. It suddenly felt awkward and uncomfortable sitting on the floor like this. She climbed to her feet, carrying the stack of papers with her. Tapping them into order on the corner of the baby grand, she arranged them in a pile before returning her gaze to Mike. I didn’t know you have a deaf brother. I guess that’s why you know sign language so well.

  He lifted himself off the floor and added his stack of papers to hers. I grew up with it.

  I’ll bet you also grew up watching him deal with well-meaning people who tried to coddle him.

  Mike shifted his feet on the floor. Do you play? He gestured at the baby grand piano.

  Cassie tilted her head. She could have gotten whiplash from that rapid change of subject. But she supposed it was natural for Mike to want to avoid talking about coddling his brother. As much as he seemed to understand where she was coming from, Mike took the promise to serve and protect to heart. She’d rarely met someone as protective as he was. She would be willing to bet he’d hovered over his brother as much as her family had hovered over her.

  The piano, do you play? Mike repeated, as if he thought she hadn’t understood the question.

  She nodded. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d been asked why she had a piano in her living room. After all, she was deaf. She couldn’t enjoy music anymore, right? The piano movers alone had discussed it for at least an hour while trying to negotiate lifting it to the third floor. But she didn’t think anyone had ever asked her if she played. I was working on a minor in music before I lost my hearing.

  Do you still play? he signed.

  His question caused a hitch under her breastbone. The fact that he wanted to know, that he seemed to think it was perfectly natural for her to play, touched her far more than it probably should. Every day.

  Will you play for me?

  The hitch turned to a tremble. She hadn’t played for another living soul for years. Not since she’d awakened with the tinnitus in her ears. Not since she’d been pronounced permanently deaf.

  He reached out and cleared the papers from the top of the piano. Please?

  Cam will hear, she signed.

  So you’re afraid he doesn’t like music, or you don’t play for audiences? He crossed to her office area and set the stack of papers on her desk.

  She used to love playing for audiences. But could she do it now? I don’t know what it will sound like.

  There’s only one way to find out.

  She took in a deep breath. She stepped to the piano and sank down on the bench. Closing her eyes, she fitted her fingers to the keys.

  Lifting her fingers in the form she’d worked on perfecting since she was four years old, she launched into Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Variation XVIII, one of her favorites from when she’d discovered it in the movie Somewhere In Time. She’d learned to play it in high school, the perfect vehicle to pour out the turmoil and drama of life as a teenager.

  She didn’t know if the longing she used to hear in the music was there anymore. The soaring passion. The exquisite pain. But she could imagine it. Shimmering in the vibration she felt through the air, through the keys. She could feel it in her chest. Stirring deep and sharp. Delicious and bittersweet.

  After all that had changed in her life since that morning in college, the piano had remained. It still emoted for her. Still centered her. Still completed her. Even if she could no longer truly hear a note she played.

  When she finished the piece, she left her hands on the keys, drinking in the last of the vibrations through her fingertips. Goose bumps rose on her arms, her legs. She left her eyes closed. To savor the moment…and because she was afraid to open them. Afraid to look into Mike’s eyes. Afraid of what she’d see.

  The bench shifted as he sat down beside her. His body heat warmed her. His scent, fresh and distinctive, teased the air around her. She drew in a deep breath.

  If she saw pity in his eyes, she’d die. Or that protective, coddling look. The look she knew too well. The look that made her feel weak and powerless.

  The look that made her feel less.

  A gentle fingertip brushed over her skin, pushing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear.

  She swallowed into a tight throat and opened her eyes.

  Mike watched her, a serious expression on his face, a sincerity glowing from his eyes that couldn’t be faked. “That was beautiful.”

  She watched his lips curve around the words. Slowly. Deliberately. No pity. No coddling. A longing built in her chest, sharper than that in the music. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, still poised on the piano keys. “Thank you.”

  He slipped an arm around her, his hand cupping the point of her hip. His warmth enveloped her. His scent caressed her.

  She didn’t know what he was thinking, but she wanted to
believe he was feeling the longing, too. Not longing for a kiss or a touch. Not feeling the electricity of attraction between them, although it was there. It was always there. But what lodged in her chest was more than that. The longing for a connection. An understanding. A mutual respect. She wanted to think he needed those things as much as she did. And that, against all odds, those things were possible to attain.

  Even for her.

  Chapter Eight

  Mike didn’t have a clue how he’d managed to spend the night under the same roof as Cassie and not kiss her again. And more. But somehow, he’d done it. Maybe it was knowing Cameron Morgan was watching and listening to their every move. Or maybe it had more to do with the realization that he wasn’t the man she needed. And that he never could be.

  He ran a hand over his face and levered himself off the great-room couch. He’d taken this assignment with the hope of somehow making up for not being there for Tommy. As if he could substitute one deaf person for another. What an idiot he was. Cassie was her own person. She had her own needs. Needs he could never fill.

  And Tommy? He’d never make up for what he’d done to Tommy.

  The hiss of a shower came from the loft’s bathroom. Cassie getting ready for work. Ready to face her next challenge, despite all she’d been through in the past twenty-four hours.

  Taking the downstairs bathroom, he turned on the shower, as well, and grabbed the shaving kit and extra clothing Lily and Cameron had brought him so he didn’t have to stop back at the ranch. Pausing before hopping in the shower, he stared at his face in the mirror. His purple bruises were beginning to turn yellow around the edges, beginning to heal. If only deeper hurts would fade like that. Too bad those injuries never healed. The only thing he could do was make sure they didn’t happen in the first place.

  After he and Cassie had showered and dressed, they grabbed some toast and coffee and left Cameron’s cameras to keep an eye on the apartment. The drive to the PPS offices was a short one and soon Cassie was back working on her computer and Mike was taking the familiar path to Revell’s Gym, the place Grady, and many other cops, worked out at every morning without fail.

  A healthier way of dealing with stress than drinking, that was for sure.

  He almost changed his mind about that when he found his partner gliding up and down on the leg press, his face so flushed he looked like a heart attack waiting to happen. “You might want to take it easy, Grady. You look like you’re about to bust a blood vessel.”

  Grady crouched low enough to take the weight from his shoulders. “What’s up, Lawson?” Slipping off the machine, he glanced around the gym.

  “Afraid to be seen with me?”

  As if satisfied no one important was watching, Grady focused on Mike. “You’re not the most popular guy around here. That’s for sure.”

  That was the reason he’d wanted to head Grady off at the gym. “I figured this was a better place to catch you than your cubicle at headquarters.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. I don’t need more headaches.”

  Guilt pricked the back of Mike’s neck. He knew Grady was walking a fine line. As Mike’s partner, he was probably an inch away from becoming a pariah by association. And with the emotional and financial stress of his wife’s illness and death, Grady sure didn’t need trouble on the job. “You been having a rough time of it?”

  Grady shrugged a sweat-glistened shoulder. “There were a lot of cops who thought you did the right thing, turning in the Dirty Three. But others…”

  “And now?”

  “This business about Kardascian getting shot by your gun…it’s rough.”

  “I didn’t shoot him.”

  Grady waved a hand as if erasing Mike’s statement from the air. “No kidding. It just doesn’t look good, that’s all. There are a lot of nervous people in the investigative division.”

  “Sorry, man. You one of them?”

  “Me? Nothing makes me nervous. I’m the most laid-back cop on the job.” He gave Mike a gap-toothed grin, as if to prove his point.

  Mike considered the scene yesterday at Kardascian’s cabin. “The lieutenant’s nervous, isn’t he?”

  “Let’s just say you might not be getting a Christmas card from him this year.” Grady stepped past Mike and plunked down on an inclined ab board. Hooking his knees, he lay on the board, looking at Mike upside down. “Now what’s up?”

  “I need a couple of favors.”

  Grady lifted his body in a half sit-up. Lowering his shoulders back to the board, he hummed something through his nose that sounded like either a hem or a haw. “What kind of favors?”

  “First, I need to know what officers were covering downtown during the evening shift.”

  “Last night?”

  Mike nodded.

  “Why? Something happen last night?”

  “Someone broke into Cassie Allen’s apartment. The suspect was still there when we arrived. He took a shot at her.”

  Grady paused mid-crunch. “She okay?”

  “She was pretty shaken, but she’s okay. She’s a strong woman.”

  “I’ll say. You should have seen her fighting for you at the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department yesterday.”

  Mike could imagine. He still worried that would come back to haunt her. And with the Denver PD’s failure last night, maybe it had.

  Grady lowered his shoulders back to the board. “So why do you want to know who was on that shift? Who responded to the call?”

  “That’s just it. No one responded.”

  “You gotta be kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “Who called nine-one-one? You?”

  Mike nodded.

  “And you told them the intruder was still there?”

  “Of course.”

  Grady stared at him, his face growing more and more pink as blood ran to his head. Finally he sat up and unhooked his legs from the board. He pivoted to face Mike and perched on the incline. “Okay. I’ll poke around, find out who was on that shift, see if any report was filed on the incident.”

  “Appreciate it. Another thing.”

  The cautious look passed over Grady’s face again. “Yeah?”

  “I lifted some fingerprints from Cassie’s apartment.”

  Grady shoved himself up from the ab board, picked up a set of dumbbells and started curling. “Let me guess. You want me to get someone at the lab to run them for you.”

  “Lois has a crush on you. She’ll do anything you ask.”

  “But I’ll have to give her something in return. You think that kind of special treatment is free?”

  “So take her to dinner.” He knew he probably shouldn’t be pushing Grady into dating. His wife had only been gone six months. And, of course, Mike’s motives were purely self-serving. But he needed those prints run. “Take her someplace expensive. On me.”

  “I was planning to spend some time at my cabin.”

  Mike nodded. He knew Grady enjoyed spending time at his little cabin in the mountains. He also knew this wasn’t about Grady losing his quiet time. “You can go to the cabin any weekend. Take a chance. It’s only dinner.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that.”

  “Throw in a movie or a show after dinner. Whatever she wants.”

  “How about a date for her besides me?”

  “Oh, come on. You’ll have a good time. It’ll be good for you. And Lois is great.”

  “Right. Says the guy who’s been spending all his time with Cassie Allen. I’ll trade you.”

  Mike knew Grady was kidding, trying to take the focus off the painful reason for his return to the dating scene. But he still felt a pang of something in his chest. Something disturbingly close to possessiveness. “So will you ask Lois to run the prints?”

  Grady hesitated for a second. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Just call me Grady the sap.”

  “Always do.”

  Grady gave him a co
mical frown. “Anything else you need me to endanger my career or virtue for?” Grady pumped the dumbbells up and down, no doubt trying to work out some of the stress Mike was heaping on him. Sweat soaked his muscle shirt.

  Mike was asking a lot. He knew it. If he could do something different, avoid putting his partner in this situation, he would. But if he was going to do the right thing, if he was going to come through for Cassie, he didn’t have much of a choice. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Don’t you worry, Mikey. I’ll make sure of it.”

  CASSIE ROLLED her shoulders. They’d started growing stiff hours ago. Now a deep ache had taken permanent residence at the back of her neck. But as much as her body was hurting due to staying in one spot all day, she couldn’t take a break. Not now when she almost had it.

  Or at least, she hoped.

  She stared at the monitor, waiting for the computer to finish testing the last set of algorithms. The one that just had to contain the cipher she was looking for.

  A hand tapped her shoulder.

  Adrenaline lurched through her body. She spun around in her chair.

  Sorry to startle you. Mike gave her a sheepish smile.

  She shook her head. I was just concentrating.

  On what? He leaned forward, trying to get a look at the monitor.

  I’m waiting to see if this works. A chuckle escaped her lips. She couldn’t help laughing at herself. She probably sounded like a ditz. Well, wasn’t she? It wasn’t as if staring at the monitor would make the computer run faster. I guess I’m trying to will it to happen.

  If anyone can do that, it’s you.

  Warmth flushed through her at the sincere look in his eyes. She turned away, focusing on the screen. Unfortunately she couldn’t sign without looking at Mike. “I wish I could will my brain to know the cipher they used on this disk.”

  She saw Mike smile out of the corner of her eye. “What?”

  He held up his hands.

  She swiveled to look at him full on. “What are you smiling about?”

  “Nothing much. I was just surprised that you’re talking.”

  She pressed her lips shut and lifted her hands from the keyboard. Does it sound weird? Maybe I should go back to signing.

 

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