Tower made a few brief notes. “As the IA investigator assigned to your case, I’m authorized to order you to see the department psychologist for an evaluation of your fitness for duty.”
“You’re kidding.”
He tucked his pen into his pocket and smiled. “No, not at all. I’m sure no one wants you behind any sort of weapon until we’re all convinced you can handle the pressure. Understandable considering your—shall we say—colorful childhood.” His eyes went icy. “You blew it and a man almost died. You’re through.”
He strode toward the door and looked back at her. “Come on, Parker. Sergeant Carder needs to acknowledge what a screw-up he chose.”
They didn’t speak in the elevator, but Tower shot her a satisfied smile as they exited the confining space. “You and your career are finished. I will personally see to it that you’re thrown out on your ass. You can’t expunge these records. You’re not a minor anymore.”
The blood drained from her face as they pushed through the doors to the SWAT den. Luke and Sarge met them just as they entered. Jazz had never seen either man so angry, but Luke vibrated with barely harnessed violence.
He grabbed Tower’s collar. “What did you say to her?”
“Take your hands off me, or I’ll have you arrested for assault. Don’t think I won’t do it. I’d enjoy putting you in a cage.”
The muscle in Luke’s cheek spasmed. Jazz fully expected him to ignore the warning, but he let Tower go with a scathing glare. “You’re not worth the aggravation…or the lawyer’s fees.”
The man should’ve been quaking in his boots. Tower had to know Luke’s background. As an Army Ranger, he’d forgotten more ways to kill than a cop would ever know.
Tower just shrugged, the fool.
“As I was about to tell Sergeant Carder, I’ve proved a point I’ve been trying to make for a very long time. That department judgment,” he glared at Sarge, “is severely lacking. Parker buckled under pressure on the last job.”
“Into my office, Deputy Tower,” Sarge said, his voice clipped. “Now.”
Tower followed, ambling through the double doors leading to the SWAT den.
All gazes in the lobby swept to Jazz. She could feel them boring into her. Her skin prickled, and unwanted memories flooded her mind. Stares at a little girl with bruises on her arms, wearing dirty clothes because she’d used the Laundromat money to buy milk and bread instead. Why couldn’t she just disappear again? What did it matter if she fought or ran? Tower would tell everyone soon enough. Luke would learn the truth. She’d lost everything already. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered.
Luke tugged her against him, his stance protective, as if he might do battle. For her. What was she doing? She was a cop, not that scared girl anymore. Even Luke believed in her skills, her identity as a sniper. She couldn’t let Tower win.
When Luke pivoted her toward the front door, she shook her head. “Wait. I’ve got to talk to Sarge first.”
“Do it later. You don’t have to stay.”
“I. Can’t. Run.”
Luke lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. He smiled slightly. “I get that, but be smart. You shouldn’t have gone with him without a rep. Tower’s not stupid, and he’s out to bring you down. Don’t play into his game.”
“It won’t happen again. From now on, I control the moves.”
Luke clasped her hand in his, and together they entered the SWAT den. Sarge’s door was closed, his blinds drawn. She sank onto a bench and Luke settled down next to her, his thigh touching hers. He kneaded the back of her neck, his fingers lingering on that small spot at her nape that made her legs tingle. The comfort of his touch made her want to lean against him, soak in some of his strength. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not here.
“Okay,” he said. “No audience for the moment. What happened?”
“He had me shoot the Remington. The scope’s windage was off by one complete revolution.”
Luke let out a low whistle. “It’d be a quick and easy adjustment, but you’d need expert knowledge to know what to do.”
“The scope appeared to be aligned perfectly. Nobody would’ve been able to tell until the weapon was fired that it’d been sabotaged.”
“Tower has the skills,” Luke said.
“I can’t prove he did anything, but if he did, he’s not in it alone. Someone’s feeding him information about my past, Luke. He knows things he shouldn’t know. Things no one should know.”
Sarge’s office door flung open. Jazz snapped straight, and Luke’s hand dropped. Her skin cooled at the loss of his caress as Tower strode through the room, triumph exuding from every pore. “I’ll set up the hearing date, Sergeant. Incompetents don’t belong on your team.”
Sarge didn’t call her to his office. He came to her, which didn’t bode well. “You thinking sabotage?”
“For a few minutes during that ballistics test, Tower made me wonder. But I couldn’t have made that mistake, Sarge. A full revolution. It’s impossible.”
“Tower’s probably involved,” Luke said. “Everything that’s happening to Jazz is no coincidence. The vandalism, the shot fired at us, and two hours ago someone tailed her to the gun range.”
“Why would Tower go to the trouble?” Sarge shook his head. “I don’t buy it, unless there’s something you’re not telling me, Luke.”
Luke said nothing, but a knowing stare passed between the two men.
“Fine,” Sarge said. “I’ll be the first one to blink. The IA investigation came up too quickly. Usually I get wind of that sort of thing, but this flew in out of nowhere. It’s suspicious, but Tower’s father is a powerful man. You go down this road without more evidence, Jazz’s career won’t survive.” He speared Luke with a glare. “Your career will be over too.”
“You think I care about that when this bastard might have contributed to landing my brother in the hospital?”
“Your theory could hold water if you tie Tower to the tail and the sabotage.”
Jazz struggled to focus. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, but there had to be something she’d missed. “Tower comes down here all the time, especially lately,” she mused. “For someone with experience, turning the windage knob wouldn’t have taken a few seconds. One turn and the shot’s off fifteen inches.”
“He’d have had to get your rifle out of the vault,” Sarge said.
Jazz bit her lip in thought. “Not if it was already out…” Her voice trailed off then she raised her chin in triumph. “I know when Tower could’ve done it. The day you called me into your office about the IA investigation, I left the Remington on my desk to clean it. When I came out, Tower and his redheaded girlfriend were at my desk.”
Jazz let her mind drift back to the razzing the guys had given Gabe. “The woman. She flirted with Gabe…She could be working with Tower as his distraction. That would make sense. The next time I used the Remington was at the hostage site.”
Sarge frowned. “I’ll look into what started the IA investigation—carefully, slowly. For now, I’m ordering you out of here, Jazz. Nothing is going to change before tomorrow. You’re a mess. You have to face the department shrink in the afternoon. Go home and recharge. Tired people make mistakes, and that’s something you can’t afford to do.”
“But Sarge—”
“Get out. I need time to go over some options that won’t see us both fired.”
“You need to get rid of a dirty cop,” Luke snapped.
Sarge rose. “And that would make your exposé, wouldn’t it?”
Luke’s face turned to stone, a sure sign Sarge had surprised him.
“You think I haven’t heard about your little investigation?” Sarge said. “There are no secrets around here. If that shot at Jazz’s apartment was aimed at you, there are a lot more suspects than you imagined. Take my advice. Don’t go off half-cocked and get yourselves into a situation that we can’t control. I don’t plan on losing my best sniper because of Tower’s persona
l vendetta. Let me do my job so Jazz can keep hers.”
She hadn’t heard the words aloud before. Hadn’t even let herself think she might really lose her place on the team. The pain was so swift and intense Jazz swayed on her feet.
Her commander frowned. “See that she gets some food and sleep, Montgomery. She looks like hell.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Luke promised, “and we’ll find out who’s behind this. I won’t stop until we do.”
Jazz looked up into his determined face. The once-broken nose, the strong jaw, they all told her more than his words. He wouldn’t give up. Ever. Mostly for Gabe, she knew. He would fight for her too, but for how long? He seemed to believe in her now, but he didn’t know the whole truth. What would happen when he learned who Jazz Parker really was?
The noonday sun streamed through the windows of Luke’s SUV, and the sheriff’s office disappeared in the rearview mirror as he ended his cell call and plugged the dying phone into the charger. “Good news. Gabe’s doing better. He’s still unconscious, but he’s no longer in a coma. The doctors are more hopeful about his leg too.”
“Thank God,” she said as she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, her bag in her lap.
Luke watched as she unconsciously stroked the stuffed clown fish peeking out of the zippered top, her fingers fondling the soft toy as if searching for comfort. “You seem as attached to Hero as Joy.”
Jasmine’s hand stilled, and she turned weary eyes toward him. “He grows on you. Something about him makes me feel…I don’t know—”
“Cared about?”
She put the toy aside, as if to prove to Luke and to herself that she didn’t need the crutch. He doubted he would’ve recognized the tell when they’d been together before. He’d seen her strength and her skill as a warrior and he’d experienced her passion, but he hadn’t looked for her vulnerabilities then. Being a father had changed him. Joy had given him a window to the world he’d never known existed, where relationships mattered more than ever.
During missions, he’d counted on his unit. He’d trusted them with his life, but not his soul. Even though Joy’s mother had betrayed him, Joy held his heart in her small hands. Could he ever trust Jasmine that way? How could he now, when she guarded her secrets so fiercely?
“Tower spooked you back there. What did he say?”
Her leg bounced, and he recognized her control slipping. Lack of sleep tugged at her camouflage. Drawn-out battles did that to a person. Eventually the masks fell away, revealing the truth.
“He knows details about my past that I’m not proud of,” she said. “Only one man on earth ever knew the complete story, but Sheriff Clarkson would never give me up.”
The message behind her words shouldn’t have felt like a .38 caliber ripping through his heart, but it did. “Unlike me.”
“How can I trust you after the way you went after Derek?”
“You’re not the only one taking a risk. Derek, one of my oldest friends, lied to me. Joy’s mother, Samantha, lied to me. She never told me she was pregnant. She never gave me a chance to be a father. If she hadn’t died, I wouldn’t even know about Joy. You lied to me too. Exactly how am I supposed to trust you?”
“Then why torture each other? We’re better off apart.”
“I thought so too. Once.” Luke let his hand rest on Jasmine’s thigh and he squeezed slightly. A delicate shiver fluttered beneath his fingertips. “There’s something between us, Jasmine. There always has been. Always will be. Besides, right now, we’re stronger together. Like it or not, your past and my investigation are connected. If we don’t find out how, whoever’s responsible could win. Do you want them to come out on top?”
“Of course not.”
“So help me inside the sheriff’s office. We’ll nail them as a team.”
Her fingers curled into a fist and she bit her lip. She didn’t like considering that her precious cops’ world might’ve been infiltrated. He got that. Nobody liked to be betrayed.
Finally she let out a slow breath. “If I’m sure someone’s dirty, I’ll tell you.”
“That’s more than I thought you’d agree to. Truce?”
She turned away from him and stared out the window.
A few blocks later, Luke recognized a restaurant he hadn’t visited since they’d parted. A whiff of tomato sauce and the scent of a grill wafted to him. Jasmine needed food. It was perfect. Good food, a buffet, and fast. The only rub…it was their place.
Her stomach rumbled and she clasped at her belly with a grimace. “Sorry.”
That decided him. He pulled over in front of the red-and-white-checked décor of the restaurant. “You need to eat.”
She stared out of the car window and bit her lip. “You can drop me off at my apartment. I’ll be fine.”
“And risk you ingesting the science experiment budding in your refrigerator?”
A smile tilted her lips, and he returned the grin. Truce. Their relationship hadn’t been all bad. It had taken a lot of cajoling on his part. He’d enjoyed finding ways to surprise her. The circus. A hot air balloon ride. An amusement park. Eventually they’d laughed. They’d teased. They’d loved. It had been too good for a while. Perhaps that’s why her leaving had hurt more than he’d ever let on.
He scanned the street for anything suspicious, but nothing caught his attention. He opened the restaurant door for Jasmine, and soft strains of Italian opera danced on air scented with spices and tomato sauce. As she walked through the opening, he placed his hand on the small of her back to escort her to a table, and just that small touch brought memories flooding back. As if by rote, they veered toward a very familiar corner of the restaurant.
“Not there,” she said, her voice low and private. “Anywhere else.”
The location shouldn’t have mattered. It was only a table in a restaurant. But it did. “How about that one?” He pointed to a spot at the opposite end of the building.
She nodded and they seated themselves near the buffet. Within minutes, they’d filled their plates and settled in. Luke shifted his chair so his blind side stayed to a wall and he could keep an eye on the entrance.
“Even now, you never go off alert,” she said, pointing to his posture.
“Habit. Five years infiltrating enemy territory taught me to never turn my back. In more ways than just the physical.”
Luke swirled up some pasta, and the rich tomato sauce with just a hint of pepper exploded in his mouth. “I’d forgotten how good this place is,” he said, savoring the bold flavors.
Jasmine, on the other hand, after a few bites, rested her fork on the plate. “You didn’t have to go back to Afghanistan with the damage the bullet in your shoulder caused. Why put yourself in danger?”
“I could ask you a similar question.”
“I’m not at risk. Not really. I sit above the action, just trying to protect my team.”
“You’re wrong. Everyone on a mission is part of the whole to find justice, to protect the innocent.” Luke stabbed the greens of his salad then looked up at her. He’d never told anyone the whole story, but she needed to understand why he needed her trust. “You want to know why I really went back?” He sat down his fork and leaned forward. “My last year in Afghanistan, I was twenty-three with an attitude. Thought I knew it all. So this forty-something reporter with a wife and two kids gets assigned to our unit. To tell the truth about the war. We were all ready to hate the guy, but his first week embedded we got pinned down. Frank pulled one of the guys into cover. He became part of the team.”
“You were impressed.”
“Hell, yeah. The guy grew up with a silver spoon but ate MREs like they were gourmet meals. He was one of us. All Frank wanted to do was tell the world about what we were doing. No filters. Just the truth. My dad would’ve liked him.”
“Frank was with you when you were ambushed?” Jasmine asked, her voice a mere whisper.
“He’d made friends with our translator. He trusted the guy. I tr
usted him too.” Luke’s gut burned. “You know what happened next.”
“The translator outed your location to a group of insurgents,” she finished. “They attacked, ambushed your team.”
“Ten minutes later, I was shot to hell. What I never told anyone before is Frank died sprawled on top of me, while I was left for dead. I should’ve been killed, but for some reason I survived. I swore to come back and find the son-of-a-bitch who’d betrayed us. It took months to recover. Even though my days as a Ranger were over, to honor Frank, I vowed to come back as a war correspondent. Took me years to get a degree and get assigned.” Luke raised his gaze and met Jasmine’s. “I found the translator. This time his lies didn’t work.”
“What did you do?”
“Let’s just say his next ‘ambush’ had a different outcome. His comrades weren’t pleased. He got what he deserved. I thought retribution would bring peace. It didn’t. Frank’s kids still didn’t have a father. Nothing had changed. So I decided to come home for a while. Visit family. Exorcise a few more demons.”
“Why journalism? Why not a cop?”
“I thought about it, but Frank’s last stories were printed after he was killed, and they were amazing. Gritty. Horrific. Inspiring. He revealed the truth. All of it. I’d seen too many cover-ups and too much deceit to follow the rules and laws cops did. They wouldn’t let me touch some of the stories I needed to focus on. Sounds cliché, but I wanted to clean up the world of lies. I blew it with Derek, though. I was still too brash, too sure of being right. I wish I’d handled it differently, made it possible for him to get out instead of believing he was alone.” Luke took a swig of iced tea. “I can see now that I pushed too hard with you too. I regret that.”
He reached for a roll just as Jasmine did. Their fingertips met and the heat between them sparked once more. He slid his hand over hers and captured her gaze. “I know you’re tired and feel like you’ve been beaten up, Jasmine. I could help, if you’d only talk to me. Trust me. I won’t quit. I’ll do whatever it takes to find out why and how this is happening. Whether it takes a few days or a decade.”
In Her Sights Page 11