Forbidden Attraction: A Contemporary Romance Box Set

by K. C. Crowne

  I had played that plan before, riling up a girl until she fell into my bed. I knew from her reaction that it would work again. This girl would be mine, maybe just for one night, but I hoped the two of us could get to know each other better so she could learn to trust me. There was something about the matured Rene that pulled me to her even more than we we’d been kids. And if she trusted me, she could help me get my badge and gun back. Then, I could find whoever had framed me for stealing that money.

  Rene

  The alarm had already gone off, but I was still laying in my bed, covered up to my chin and resting on the piles of new pillows I’d bought. We were finally set up in the townhouse, which I could now call home instead of just a storage space for eight million boxes. My bed was so warm, so comfy, and most importantly, in my own place.

  I could breathe easily, laying there knowing no one could hear us moving around through the thin walls of an apartment, and I could quietly relax in my bed. I had purchased a new down comforter, and the weight of it made me feel safe and secure. I could have laid there all day, and the thought of getting up and starting my day made me feel almost depressed.

  Jenny was usually an early riser, but the new school and new friends had worn her out. Yet another reason to stay snuggled down right here: I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my home to walk into the precinct and deal with Martin Ferrel again.

  He was so damn irritating, almost like he was doing it on purpose. I could have slugged him in the face at the gym. He’d been an asshole, mocking me, making sure he was in my line of sight at every pass. Even when he’d apologized, I wasn’t sure he meant it. Just saying what he thought I wanted to hear. His presence was louder than his words or his stares.

  Every time I’d turned around, he was there, laughing or smirking at me. I was a little pissed at myself because I hadn’t realized he still lived in Mapleton. I had his file but hadn’t bothered to look at his address. Where he lived had no bearing on the accusations against him. But I so wished I had. He’d been at the gym, he’d been at the grocery story, he’d been at the damn gas station. I was almost afraid to go anywhere, assuming I would walk around the corner and find him standing there.

  A terrifying thought struck me as I lay there, jerking me into total wakefulness. What if during one of these ‘accidental’ run-ins, Jenny was with me? I wasn’t ready for him to know about her; in fact, I didn’t plan on him ever knowing. His grandmother had passed a few years before, so my secret was safe for as long as I wanted it to be. But Jenny was twelve and had his thick, dark hair and widow’s peak, contrasting my auburn hair. He was a fucking homicide investigator. He would put the pieces together fast.

  She’d only gone out with me once, to Bobby’s bakery, and because I’d seen him so many times, I kept looking over my shoulder. So often Bobby had asked me what the hell I was looking for. I’d blustered through his question and focused on my friends and daughter, and Jenny and I left an hour later without seeing him. But I would have to be careful.

  Winning me over was the key to keeping his career, his pension, his future with the police force. It only made sense that he would want to get my attention, even if he was a fool for thinking my objectivity would slip at the sight of his chiseled body.

  Martin wanted me to believe him, and part of me did, but the other part of me was screaming not to trust him. My head was all over the place and seeing him everywhere had screwed me up even worse.

  I pushed Martin out of my mind and spent the rest of Sunday unpacking boxes, hanging pictures, and putting everything exactly where I liked it. Jenny was still sorting out where to put all her books, but other than that, we were done. My townhouse finally felt like a home, somewhere I could relax when I finished a stressful day at work.

  The pictures of my family were hung on the walls, and I had scented candles scattered through the rooms, helping the place smell more like a home and less like a new car. My clothes were all neatly folded or hung up. I had a kitchen that was actually big enough to cook in, a cup of coffee anytime I wanted it, and a sense of pride in where I lived for the first time in a while. It was my home, and on that Monday morning, laying among the covers curled up watching the sky lighten out the window, I didn’t want to leave it.

  But I had to face the world, and I had to start exploring the case with tenacity. I’d been trained to do that, and I couldn’t let Martin and his bullshit get in the way. The sooner the case was closed, the sooner he would be out of my life and I could rest assured that he would never know about our daughter. But not really…we lived in the same small town. We’d run into each other on occasion, and eventually Jenny would be with me.

  But I’d cross that bridge when I reached it. For now, I had a case to solve.

  My day was going to be full, starting with a meeting with Captain Riggs, discussing the progress of the case and if I thought there was any new evidence to push the investigation one way or another. After that, I had to interview one of the officers who had worked many of the same cases as Martin, to see what he had to offer.

  Before I could begin chasing down leads, I had to get the simple and tedious interviews out of the way. All of them had filed reports but listening to a witness recount his or her version could help an investigator see if there were any discrepancies in anyone’s story.

  I pulled myself out of bed and dressed for work, choosing a black pantsuit with a teal blouse. My hair and eyes looked good with teal. I wanted to look professional, serious, and slightly intimidating, if it was even possible. I wanted the interviewees to know that bullshit had no place in my interviews. To do that, I had to do more than act the part; I had to look the part too. There was nothing that said ‘woman on a mission’ more than a stylish and well-fitted pantsuit and a pair of flats. People automatically thought of the FBI when they saw a black suit. Personally, I had other intentions for the outfit as well.

  One thing I had noticed when I wore my pencil skirt and fitted jacket was that the cops in the precinct stared. I wanted them, especially Martin, to have no excuse to ogle me. I needed to look professional and be treated professionally as well. That would never happen when the guys couldn’t keep their eyes on my face instead of my legs or breasts. The skirt suit wasn’t even that sexy, but apparently Martin wasn’t the only thirsty idiot in that precinct.

  I had enough bullshit to worry about, especially when it came to Martin. He needed to focus on getting himself out of trouble, not on my ass. Fortunately, as the coffee started kicking in, I realized Martin wouldn’t be there. He was suspended, after all, and we didn’t have a meeting set up. Why would he hang around the precinct?

  Why would he follow me around all damn weekend? First the gym, then the grocery store, the gas station later that night. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Why did he have to play these ridiculous games to try and win me over, instead of being smart and giving me actual leads to back up his allegations of being framed?

  I called Jenny as I opened her bedroom door. “Baby, time to get up. You have to go to Granddad’s today.”

  “I don’t wanna get up,” she grumbled, pulling the covers over her head.

  I chuckled. “I know exactly how you feel, but you have to.” I walked to the bed and pulled the covers off her face, reeling back from the morning breath. “I’ll make you a deal. You brush those nasty teeth, and you can go to Granddad’s in your PJs.”

  She pretended to think about it. “Okay. Will you pack me some clothes for later?”

  “Sure thing.”

  She rolled out of bed and padded out of her room to the bathroom, and I heard the water running and the sound of her electric toothbrush. I grabbed her bag and tossed some clothes in, then called my dad to let him know we were about to head his way.

  When I got to the precinct, I headed straight to Captain Riggs’ office. He was happy to see me and immediately called me in. To say that my meeting with the captain was eye-opening would be downplaying it. I learned a lot about everyone’s attitude
toward Martin, including some theories about why they thought he was being targeted. Even the captain himself wanted to weigh in on the issue, being candid with me about Martin and his career.

  “How’s your assessment goin’?” he asked over his second cup of coffee that meeting.

  “It’s going well,” I said, nodding my head. “I looked into Martin’s alibi myself, and it seems to check out. I’m not saying I can close the case, but every day we’re getting closer. Though if he didn’t take that money, we still have to find out who did.”

  “I want to go on record and say that I don’t think Martin is guilty of stealing that money,” Captain Riggs pronounced. “I’ve known that man for a long time, and he’s a lot of things, but a thief isn’t one of them. He also isn’t stupid enough to pull that kind of crime off and then just sit there, in front of everyone, expecting not to be caught. The kid is arrogant in a lot of ways, I know, but he isn’t stupid and has pledged himself to police work. And despite his sometimes unorthodox methods, he’s a damn good cop.”

  You too, huh? I had to fight not to show my exasperation. Everyone thought this guy was a gift to the force. They all had the same mentality about his past tactics, his character, and not one of them believed he was guilty. I couldn’t understand how someone with such a shady record could be thought of so highly. My father had always told me it took all kinds of cops to make things happen, but I didn’t realize he meant men like Ferrel should be included in the equation.

  “Captain,” I said. “I know this is a precinct loyal to its people, but do you think maybe you might be overlooking a trait in Ferrel that you don’t want to see?”

  “Not at all,” he defended, eyeing me. “I’ve been at this job for a long time and have seen bad cops. Martin Ferrel is not one of them. If I had the option to keep him on, I would.”

  I nodded, looking down to add a couple notes about the captain’s comments. One thing nobody at the precinct seemed to know caught my eye, so I looked up and asked, “So, what led up to his arrest?”

  “IA received an anonymous tip,” he explained. “The tipster said Ferrel was the one stealing money. My hands were tied at that point, and I had no choice but to suspend him until the investigation was complete.” He cleared his throat and sat up, clasping his hands in front of him as he leaned on his elbows. “I’ll be honest, though, I want him back on the team. He got shit done, made sure criminals were caught, cases were closed, and those criminals went where they belonged.”

  “What about the comments in his files about misconduct?” I asked, my brow furrowed.

  He sighed and leaned back again, his expression harder than it had been before. “Martin’s a good cop, no matter what his file looks like. Every single one of those black marks on his record has a story behind it. He did what he thought was best, and he saved a lot of lives, even when it meant getting in trouble for his tactics. I know his service record raises a red flag in your head, but to us, it makes him even more valuable.”

  How? How is an irresponsible ass with an ego problem and shaky ethics an asset to this force? I couldn’t ask the questions I wanted to ask without seeming insubordinate, so I took the safe route and changed the line of questioning. “Do you have any idea who would want to frame him for the crime?”

  “Not a clue,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why anyone would peg him as a thief. He’s never stolen anything, including pens from the office.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” I said, standing up and shaking his hand. “I appreciate the time to talk about Ferrel and the case. If you could email me a statement, I’ll print it and have you sign it.” He nodded. “I’ll be in the interrogation room interviewing a few of the other officers who worked closely with Martin for most of the morning.”

  “Good luck. I really hope you’re able to get to the bottom of this and clear Detective Ferrel.” He smiled, but his statement was clear. He expected me to clear Ferrel and find the real culprit. He’d already decided the accused was innocent.

  As I walked back to the interrogation room to set up, I repeated the captain’s words in my head. He was so sure Martin was innocent, and so was everyone else I had talked to so far. I was finding it hard to believe a man with so many friends, and few enemies, who was always putting himself on the line for the job, would steal that kind of money.

  But was Martin really the guy they thought he was—or was he fooling them all?

  Martin

  I was antsy as hell with so much damn time on my hands. I hadn’t had that much free time since I retired early from baseball with my shoulder injury. I remembered that period of time as miserable too.

  I’d never been good with idle time, even on the force, which was why I liked the fast-moving departments like narcotics and homicide. There was always something to do. Being off with nothing to do was much worse now because someone decided to frame me as a thief. I had no control over the situation, could do nothing, and it was driving me insane.

  I wasn’t sure what I hated more, being antsy or helpless. I’d never had an enemy like this one, someone on the inside, someone I couldn’t see but who had a hold over me and my life. And because of this invisible force controlling my life, I needed to push Rene some. I wanted to know for sure that she was on my side, believed me, and was trying to find a way to solve the case. I wanted to know what progress was being made. If she had my back, she would keep me informed.

  Things with her, though, weren’t moving along how I had hoped, and that was incredibly irritating as well. Her response to seeing me around all weekend, an intention on my part to squeeze into her life, had been to run faster, not to slow down. I was beginning to wonder if she had reasons beyond the case and an old grudge to avoid me.

  But when I’d seen her walking into the bakery I knew Bobby with the giant fists owned, the little girl holding her hand had given me a bit of clue. She had a child I knew nothing about. A cute kid, for sure, who looked like her mother with dark hair. I’d never messed with a mom, didn’t want to deal with children or schedule around children. I’d always liked women who could meet up and hook up in the spur of the moment. Moms couldn’t do that, but this mom was different. I needed her.

  I couldn’t control how she reacted to me or how she felt about the case. All I could do was sit and wait, twiddling my thumbs and hoping she’d eventually realize I was completely innocent.

  I grabbed my cell phone off the table and took it outside to sit on my porch while I made a call. I dialed Lopez’s number and waited for her to answer. She was working a mid-shift that day, so she would already be out on a call or working her desk. She wasn’t good with idle time either, so knowing her, she was out on the street looking for clues in a case.

  Still, she picked up after only a couple rings. “Hey there, partner,” she greeted. “Enjoying your leisurely vacation?”

  “Yeah, right,” I grumbled. “I’m losing my mind over here.”

  “Drink some whiskey. That’ll calm you down.” She laughed.

  “Had too much already. Gettin’ sick of the taste,” I told her. “Hey, is there any talk around the station about my case?”

  “Man, I wish I could say yes,” she said. “Riggs took me off that double homicide from a week ago and put me on your case. We’re coming up short, though, bro. Because the money wasn’t logged, we have no idea when it was planted on you. Looking for clues inside the precinct is pointless too. It was an inside job, but not something super close to us like you’re thinkin’.”

  “What about the cameras? Anything on them?”

  She laughed derisively, and I pictured her rolling her brown eyes. “Seriously? Budget cuts, man. No criminals anywhere near the evidence room, supposedly. Just cops. So those are the last to get fixed if they go down.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Right.” But she tried to assure me, “We’re still lookin’. I won’t give up, man.”

  “This is such bullshit,” I growled. “How does money just disappear like that? T
he only clue we have is what some anonymous tipster told IA? That is way too suspicious. Even I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t me on the other end.”

  “Well, I have some other news too,” she said, her voice a warning. “It gets worse.”

  “Worse? How could it get worse?”

  “We finished the full inventory of the evidence locker,” she said. “Looks like some drugs are missing from that case too. They figured it out last night and called me about it this morning.”

  “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” I asked incredulously, slamming my hand on the table. “How did they not catch that when the money went missing?”

  “Because Brown was on the inventory,” she told me. “He could fuck up a grocery list.”

  Holy shit, this whole mess is a comedy of errors. I almost laughed. “I don’t do drugs. That should be pretty good evidence that I’m not guilty.”

  “That’s what I said, but they said you could have sold them,” she replied.

  “To who? The dead people whose cases I try to solve? The hundreds of druggies I’ve put away in my career? This is complete and total bullshit, Lopez,” I complained uselessly, the helplessness at the situation clouding my voice.

  “I know,” she replied. “Everyone does. We’re working on it.”

  “I thought shit would get better for me with this case,” I ground, my teeth clenched. “Now it’s only getting worse instead. And, of course, anything that comes up missing or was miscounted before going into evidence is going to be put on me. I’m the scapegoat for every damn thing that goes wrong inside the precinct right now, and I’m not even there to defend myself. I feel like I’m living in the fuckin’ Twilight Zone over here.” I sighed, feeling a little despondent. “Of course, I wasn’t a perfect angel in my career, but shit, I wasn’t a thief.”