by Julie Miller
From across the room, Eli saw the drowsy contentment of good sleep and good sex disappear as the frantic scratching and barking from downstairs registered. He could hear voices outside, too. At least two men, shouting at and shushing each other. With a bold lack of self-consciousness, Shauna scrambled out of bed and rushed to the front window.
“Dammit, Shauna. Get away from there!” He zipped up the slacks he’d tugged on and grabbed his holster and badge.
“There’s a car out front. It’s too dark to read the plate, but it’s not the blue Buick.”
She’d flipped open the slats of the shutters to peek outside before Eli could snatch her around the waist and pull her away. Her silky skin and rounded hips were as familiar to him now as the grinding whine of a powerful engine roaring to life, and the certainty that trouble would soon follow.
Eli glanced out to check the situation himself. Two men, their upper bodies obscured by the ancient oaks lining the street, ran across the yard.
“Stay put.” Pushing Shauna firmly away from the window, he tossed his holster and ran barefoot down the stairs. “Sadie, girl. Come!”
The golden Lab left her guard post at the front window and charged down the hallway to Eli. “Good girl.” He left her at the bottom of the stairs to guard her mama. “Sit. Stay.”
Leaving the confused, excited dog woofing and whining in his wake, Eli dashed to the door. With his gun drawn beside his head, he pulled the curtain aside and looked out to see the two men jumping into the car. Whatever they’d done, whoever they were, they were getting away.
Not this time.
He unlocked the door.
“Eli! The alarm!”
Shauna’s warning from the top of the stairs came too late. Her warning couldn’t stop him. Without knowing the deactivation code, Eli opened the door and ran onto the porch.
The outside lights flashed on and off. An alarm blared to life, and, one by one, neighboring porch lights blinked on as people checked the doors and windows to see what the ruckus was about.
It was just getting started.
Squinting against the strobe effect of the security lights, Eli jumped down the porch steps and ran as car doors slammed and tires spun on the pavement. “Police!” he shouted, leveling his gun at the passenger-side window. “Get out of the car!”
But the wheels found traction and the car shot off before Eli could reach it. He fired once, taking out a rear headlight, but they were moving too fast to get a clean second shot. He chased it past the next driveway, but the damn thing was gone, just a dark speck of souped-up machinery disappearing around the corner into the night.
His feet slapped against the sidewalk and his breath railed in his chest as he slowed and changed direction back to the house. Eli scanned up and down the street for further signs of danger while he imbedded the facts he knew into his memory. Two men—one black, one white—was the limit of the description he could make. Tan sedan with no license plate. But the Riverboat Casino parking sticker on the back window might make an APB worthwhile.
Maybe LaTrese Pittmon had gotten himself a new car. But what was the point of showing up here tonight, with Shauna tucked safely away inside, out of reach? Had Eli caught them watching the house? Had Sadie foiled a break-in? Had some note been left behind he hadn’t yet found?
And then he saw it. Sadie had abandoned her post and was nosing around in the bushes that lined the base of the porch. Eli approached cautiously. At first he could only make out a shadowy bundle, like a big dog curled into a ball, asleep. Then the lights flashed on and he saw blue and white and…oh, no. The lights went off and Eli jogged toward Sadie’s discovery.
“Get away, girl. Move.” Tucking his Glock into the back of his waistband, Eli shooed Sadie away and knelt down to pull the still figure from beneath the bushes. The lights flashed on. “Oh, hell. Hell no.”
Seth Cartwright. Dumped out like garbage. With a broken nose and enough swelling around his left eye to make Eli send up a silent prayer that the kid wasn’t dead.
He felt for a pulse. Slow. Erratic. But it was there. As he pulled his fingers away he took note of the angry red welts encircling his throat. He’d seen marks like this on another man, fading with the passage of time. “Oh, God.” This was no fluke, no random attack. Eli rolled Seth over to check his other injuries. “C’mon, tough guy. Wake up for me.”
There wasn’t even a moan.
The lights came on and stayed on. Eli reached for his cell phone, but it wasn’t there. He pushed to his feet. Shauna’s son needed a blanket and a doctor, fast.
He met Shauna on the porch steps. Buttoned up in a sweater over a pair of jeans, barefoot as usual, she looked young and vulnerable. But the cool-eyed expression she wore, along with the extra clothes—his clothes—she carried, told him the sexy temptress who’d been thoroughly loved earlier that night had been replaced by the consummate professional woman.
But even if the commissioner was back in town, she didn’t need to see this. Eli clutched her shoulders and urged her back up the steps. “Call 911.”
“It’s okay. The dispatcher’s already called and units are on the way.” Her efficient clipped tones betrayed no emotion. “I got the alarm shut off, and here are your things. You’d better take off before—”
“Are you kidding me with this?” The sting of rejection cut him down to the quick. Apparently, he was the only one who’d been irrevocably changed by the closeness they’d shared upstairs.
But she laid a cool palm against his jaw and let him see a chink in her indomitable armor. “Eli, please. Later, I promise we’ll—”
“Go call 911.” He pushed her back up the steps. There would be no later for them, no us. Not while her son might be dying on the ground behind them. “We need an ambulance, Shauna. He’s been beaten pretty badly and left unconscious.”
“Who—?” Shauna went still, reading the unspoken message in his eyes. Go back in the house. Let me handle this. I’m trying to protect you. But his silence alone was enough to make her tremble. “Who is it, Eli?” She shrugged off his hold and scooted past before he could stop her from running down the steps. “Seth!” She threw herself down on the ground beside her son and cradled his face in loving mother’s hands. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
Eli saw the silent sob wrack her body. He heard the whispered prayers and loving words. He wanted to go to her, hug her tightly, stand between her and the nightmare.
But Shauna didn’t need the tender reassurances of the man who loved her right now. She needed a cop. And what he wanted didn’t matter half so much as what she needed.
Taking careful note that there were enough neighbors spying from their windows and porches to keep anyone from getting to Shauna, Eli grabbed his gear. He was on the phone to the dispatcher while he shrugged into his shirt and jacket. He didn’t waste time fastening anything, but slipped into his shoes and ran back upstairs. Once the ambulance was on its way, he had the woman transfer him to a Fourth Precinct number where he woke a sleepy Mitch Taylor.
“This better be good,” the captain growled.
“Taylor.” Eli identified himself and gave a quick situation report as he pulled a couple of blankets off the guest-room bed. “I don’t know what you’ve got Cartwright working on, but the kid could use a little backup right now.”
“His assignment is none of your business.”
“If low-profile undercover is what you were going for, then his case is shot. His assignment is all over Shauna’s front yard, waiting for an ambulance.”
“Shauna’s?”
Eli hit the stairs. “Commissioner Cartwright.”
“I know who Shauna Cartwright is, Masterson.” Too late, he heard the cautionary tone in Mitch’s voice. “You do know it’s almost three in the morning, don’t you?”
Eli swore. Of all the stupid times to carp on protocol. “Look, Taylor. The woman’s son has been beaten unconscious and I’m the only one around to do anything about it right now. You can frickin’ write me
up if you want, but you are not going after her. You will not file one complaint or put one blemish on her record because of me. Not when she’s got this to deal with. Not ever. Understood?”
“Down, Masterson. I’ve got nothing against the commish.” Oh, but he’d be more than happy to make life hell for his favorite Internal Affairs officer? “Think about your crime scene there. It’s going to be swarming with cops any minute. The press, too, with the leaks we’ve had around here. Maybe you’d better clear out before somebody with a looser tongue than mine shows up. I’ll have someone there ASAP to debrief Seth.”
Taylor hung up and Eli’s anger seeped out on a heavy breath. But the resentment remained. He was odd man out. The other cops didn’t need him or want him around. And Shauna had already ordered him to drop out of sight.
Behind the scenes or behind closed doors they could be a team. But in the bright light of day—or under the bright lights of her security system—the damn rules applied.
Within five minutes, it was just as Mitch Taylor had predicted. Detectives were canvassing the neighborhood. Traffic cops had blocked off the street to help the ambulance get through. Seth’s tall, bald partner, Cooper Bellamy, was on the scene, searching through Seth’s pockets and asking questions nobody had answers to. Where was Seth attacked? When did it happen? And why the hell is the I.A. guy here, anyway?
Couldn’t any of these yahoos tramping through Shauna’s front yard see that the only thing that mattered to her was that her son had been hurt? Eli hung back on the fringes of the hive of activity, watching Shauna hovering over the paramedics while they examined Seth. She hugged herself around her middle and rubbed her arms, trying to shake that chill that consumed her whenever she was nervous or afraid. Though her cool green eyes were dry as a bone now, every now and then she’d sniffle. She’d nod or give a short answer when one of the paramedics or another cop addressed her.
But she needed a shoulder to lean on, someone to care about her, not this efficient machine running an investigation around her. Now that they were loading Seth into the ambulance, Eli saw what that stoic face of authority was costing her. Protocol be damned. His shoulder worked just fine.
He alerted her with a look before he approached. But he didn’t break stride, despite her darting looks around her. No doubt checking for an audience. “Please, Eli, I…”
He caught her icy hands between his own and rubbed some of his warmth into them. “You hanging in there?”
For a moment, she held on, but then she pulled away. “Do you know what we were doing while this was happening to him?”
“I was there. I remember.”
Her eyes tilted up to his, revealing a glimpse of terrible despair. “What if we’d been on guard? Paying attention? Maybe we could have done something to help him.”
“He was attacked at another location, then brought here. That tells me that someone’s sending a message.”
“Did you find anything from Yours Truly? There was no phone call, no note.” She sniffed again. “If he wants my attention, he’s got it. If he’s trying to scare me, he’s succeeded. If he’s punishing me for arresting the wrong man, he knew exactly how to make me pay. I can’t work, I can’t concentrate, when my children…Seth’s a grown man, but he’s still my…I love him, Eli.”
He fell into step beside her as they followed the gurney to the curb. “Is there anything you need me to do? Anyone you want me to call?”
“I already talked to Sarah. She’ll meet us at the hospital.” Shauna kept walking. But when they reached the ambulance, she stopped and braced her hand at the middle of his chest. “I asked you to help me once before. To help me find justice for a murdered little girl. Help me again, Eli. Find out who did this to my son.”
“I will.”
“Ma’am?” One of the paramedics called her from the back of the ambulance. “You want to ride along?”
Eli palmed the back of Shauna’s neck. For a moment, he met resistance. “People will see—”
“Screw that.” He bent his head and kissed her, anyway. When their lips met, she softened and leaned in to taste the strength and reassurance he offered. The kiss was deep and quick and over before too many eyebrows were raised. “I’ll see you later.”
Then he helped her inside, closed the back door and watched them drive away.
Though he longed to be with her, though he longed to be allowed to be with her, Eli let her go.
But he wasn’t the only one watching her departure with longing and regret. Sadie whined at his side and stuck her cold nose into his hand. Eli shook his head and laughed. “Well, I guess no one will complain if I take care of you, right?”
After a quick chase and a game of fetch, Eli called the dog to come into the house. But when Sadie came trotting up, she had something besides the stick hanging from the corner of her mouth.
“Whatcha got there, girl?”
Eli pulled out the slobbery piece of paper and unfolded it. “Son of a bitch.”
The note belonged with Seth’s body. And like everything else that bastard had done, the message for Shauna was chillingly clear.
Found the real killer yet, Ms. Cartwright?
How many peeple have to be hurt before you realize you’ve failed?
Now step aside and let me work. KCPD will be better off without you.
Be a good little girl and resine. Or that guy you’re shackin’ up with will find your body on the doorstep.
Yours Truly
Eli resisted the urge to crumple the evidence in his fist and ram it down the grammatically challenged bastard’s throat. That guy you’re shackin’ up with? Who the hell knew he and Shauna had been together tonight? Who always had access to the commissioner so she could be reached in any emergency at any time of day or night?
One name came to mind. It didn’t fit the typical profile of a man who could kill a little girl and cast her aside. But stranger things had happened.
After making sure Sadie had food and water before he locked her inside, Eli strode down to his SUV. Once he started the engine, he called Mitch Taylor back, and in a few terse sentences, told him to check the Riverboat Casino parking lot for a car sporting a shot-up tail-light. Then Eli U-turned away from the clutter of police cars and drove toward KCPD headquarters.
He was about to make himself a very unpopular guy.
But if answers were the only kind of comfort he could give Shauna, one more condemnation would be a small price to pay.
Chapter Twelve
“What are you doing?”
Now that was the kind of reaction Eli liked in a woman—one who noticed him as soon as she came into the room.
So Betty Mills did have an emotional side beneath that smiling, plastic-faced facade. “Get away from my desk!” She stormed across the reception area. “Those things are personal. Private. Confidential police business!”
She scooped up the files that Eli had spread across her desk. She snatched up the loose memos and handwritten notes he’d been reading, too. He leaned back in her chair, his legs crossed at the ankles and propped up on her desk, and watched her fume at him. “I knew I didn’t like you from the first moment I met you. Everything they say about you is true.”
“That I’m a damn fine investigator, and I always get my man?”
Her pale cheeks blossomed with anger. “That you’re as devious as your partner was, and can’t be trusted. Give me that.”
She reached for the appointment book that Eli held in his hand. But he held on when she tugged, knocking her off balance, and the papers tucked beneath her arms fluttered to the floor. “Now look at the mess you’ve made!”
As Betty stooped to separate and shuffle papers, Eli read the top line in the book. “It says here the commissioner is in her office this morning. But the door’s locked and the lights are off. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”
Betty huffed a sound of disapproval. “I’m sure you know.”
Eli dropped his feet to the floor. “
Where is she, Betty?”
“At the hospital with her son. She called me at home and said he’d been injured and that she wouldn’t be in to the office. Her son is conscious, but he can’t remember exactly what happened to him beyond some kind of fight.”
“I figured you’d know the details. You always know where to find her, don’t you? Day or night?”
Betty stood and plopped an untidy stack of folders on the desk. “That’s part of my job. But then you already knew where Ms. Cartwright is, didn’t you? Just walking in the building this morning, I heard that you were with her last night. At her house. Half dressed. You’re a disgrace to the uniform.”
Old Betty was smart. But Eli was smarter.
“You know, Betty, I’m surprised. As long as you’ve been in the business, I figured you’d be a better speller than this.”
“I was at the top of my secretarial class. I don’t make mistakes.”
“Then what are these?” Eli pulled three memos from his chest pocket, all penned on KCPD letterhead. “This is a grocery list, I’m assuming. Milk. Cheese. Macarooni with two o’s. Flower—f-l-o-w-e-r.” He tossed it onto the desk and read the next one. “T-o-o-s-d-a-y. Tuesday’s meeting postponed unto—instead of until—Friday.”
“Let me see those.”
“There’s one more.” She circled around the desk. But standing to keep them out of her reach was no problem. “Notify Task Force re BJD investigation. Internal Afaires on alert. A-f-a-i-r-e-s. You know, Betty, I’ve been on the job for years, and we’ve never spelled it like that.”
Done making his point, Eli let her grab the notes so he could study her reaction. She wadded them in her hand and shook them at Eli’s face. She was angry. Not worried. Not spinning the wheels inside her head to come up with a plausible excuse. “These aren’t mine. I would never send out anything of this quality from this office.” She was defending the pride of the office, not herself. “These are notes from Deputy Commissioner Garner. I always transcribe his rough drafts and proof his letters for him. No one’s supposed to know it, but I’ll tell you a secret I’ve kept for him if it will get you away from my desk. Deputy Garner has some sort of dyslexia. Even with a computer and spell-checking, he makes mistakes. He doesn’t know it, but I proofread anything he sends out—and retype it first if there’s a mistake.”