Climbing carefully into bed so as not to disturb Midnight, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her stir and then settle comfortably against him again. He lay awake holding her and trying to will himself back to sleep. In the end he didn’t sleep at all.
The following day turned out to be eventful. Kyle came into the office shortly after Midnight got there at 6:00 a.m. When he walked in, Midnight was reading a report that had been left on her desk. It was from homicide. A man had been found dead in his apartment the night before at 8:00 p.m. The reason it was of particular interest was the killer’s method. The early coroner’s report showed that the man had been shot first in the legs, the killer working up the body with a final fatal shot to the heart. It was a cop-style killing, and that was something she wanted looked into immediately. She’d already made the call to make sure it was being checked out.
“Early riser too, huh?” Midnight commented when Kyle walked in.
“Figured you still were,” he replied, grinning.
He was dressed more casually today, though still more formally than Midnight was used to. He was wearing black slacks, a long-sleeved jade green shirt, a black leather belt, and black leather dress shoes. His hair, as always, was neat and clean—no long hair for Kyle Masterson, although she noted that it did reach the top of his collar now and curled slightly at the ends. Midnight was dressed much more casually than she had been the day before, in slate-gray cotton pants with a black silk Oxford shirt and her usual black ankle boots. Her hair was loose, and still slightly damp from her shower. She wore light makeup—mascara and a faint blush, and a light touch of lipstick. As usual, she had the healthy glow of a tan, and she seemed to Kyle to be the same woman he’d known fifteen years ago.
Midnight noticed his assessing glance, and grinned. “What?”
“Well, Chief, the least you could have done was age over the years,” he said mildly as he sat down across from her.
“Oh, I’ve aged,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
“Where?” he countered, looking wholly unconvinced.
“Inside,” she answered, smiling.
“Uh-huh.” Kyle shook his head to counter his comment. “So, how did your husband take it?” he asked, changing subjects quickly.
Midnight shrugged. “He was okay with it—not at first, but in the end he was.”
“Good,” Kyle said. “Should we get that paperwork done, or do you need coffee first?”
“Coffee might be a good idea.”
“Let’s go,” he said, and stood up.
Midnight suggested they go over to the Pit. Kyle remembered the place from years before. “How’s Tom Ryan doing?” he asked.
“He’s doing alright. He’s not at the Pit as much as he used to be. His nephew Kevin is running it now. Tom got married again about eleven years ago, to a dispatcher from the department who’s getting ready to retire this year. They seem pretty happy together.”
“That’s good,” Kyle said, his eyes taking on a faraway look.
“Yeah,” Midnight said, and made a point to turn the conversation in a different direction. They had their coffee and went back to the office. The morning was spent working on his hiring paperwork. At 9:00 her phone rang; she picked up, answering as she always did.
“Chevalier.”
Kyle glanced up, wondering how her husband felt about her using her maiden name all the time. He knew it would bother him, but his wife had never been a Chief of Police. He knew Midnight had a made a name for herself in the law enforcement community, and Chevalier was the name everyone knew her by. It still seemed odd to him, but he knew he was thinking like an “old-fashioned man,” as Midnight would say, with emphasis on the man part. Kyle could hear only Midnight’s side of the conversation, but he could tell from her face that it was her husband. He tried to be polite and tune out, but he found himself listening with fascination, even as he continued to work on his paperwork. He’d never heard Midnight Chevalier talk to any man like she talked to her husband.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling into the phone.
“What are you up to this morning?” Rick asked, sitting at his desk in his office two floors down.
“Paperwork, nothing exciting.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, grinning.
“Are you?” she asked, her voice softening.
“Uh-huh,” Rick replied, making even that sound suggestive.
“Richard…”
“You have company, right?” he said, sounding even more mischievous.
“I swear…”
“Oh, you’re gonna swear now?” he said, his accent deepening. “I like when you swear…”
“Okay, Lieutenant, you want to die, right?” Midnight laughed as she turned her chair around to face her window, putting her booted feet up on the sill.
“Maybe, but only if I get to choose how,” Rick replied, his voice losing none of its innuendo.
“This is a testosterone thing, isn’t it?” Midnight said, grinning all the while. She remembered a time when he had kissed her deeply right here in this office, in front of another man he’d perceived as a threat. He’d done it to show the younger man who Midnight belonged to, and they’d both known that.
“Could be,” Rick replied, laughing finally.
“Is.”
Again, he laughed, not denying it. “Have a good day, love.”
“You too. Be careful.”
“I always am,” he said, his voice deepening again.
“Ugh! Men!” she said, laughing again.
“I love you,” he said, his voice sincere and serious now.
“And I love you.” She could feel his smile on the other end of the line, and smiled herself. “Talk to you later, babe.”
“That you will. Bye.”
“Bye,” she said, turning around to hang up the phone. She glanced up at Kyle, and saw that he was still working away.
They continued on until the personnel paperwork was done, and then Midnight started to give him a run-down of current projects and plans that she wanted to establish once he was fully on board. Her phone rang a few more times; she dealt with matters quickly and efficiently, giving each person enough of her time to understand the problem but no more than was necessary to solve it. Kyle found he liked her style more with every call. At 10:30, there was a knock on her door, and a call at the same time.
“Come,” she called, and picked up the phone. “Chevalier,” she said into the receiver.
Joe Sinclair walked in. He was wearing black jeans and a navy collared shirt with the San Diego Police Department logo on the right breast pocket. He wore his standard black shoulder holster over it.
He glanced at Kyle, then extended his hand. “Heard you were coming on board. Good to see you again.”
Kyle stood and took Joe’s hand. “Thanks. It’s gonna be good to be here.”
“Well, it’s definitely going to be interesting,” Joe said, grinning and looking over at Midnight, who rolled her eyes at him.
She hung up a couple of minutes later, then looked at Joe cynically, one brow raised. “I assume you didn’t just come here to harass my new Assistant Chief.”
“Actually, to harass you,” Joe said caustically , his smile bright.
Midnight nodded, grinning back at him. “Okay, what is it?”
Joe moved around her desk to stand next to her chair, laying out the folder he had brought. “Need a signature for a tap.”
Midnight looked down at the file, reading the justification attached to the request. Kyle watched the exchange with interest. He knew she’d been romantically involved with Sinclair years before she was with him, and he knew that not only were Joe and Midnight best friends, but so were Rick and Joe. It was an interesting situation, one that would drive any normal person crazy. Midnight seemed to handle that with the same ease with which she seemed to handle everything else in her business life.
“So, why are they moving on this now?” Midnight asked Joe.
; He leaned his hip against her desk, facing her. “Campari thinks they’re getting close to something on this.”
“Close?” Midnight said, looking skeptical. “I don’t want hours of tape on conversations about what’s for dinner.”
Joe laughed. “Yeah, I know. But Campari’s convinced that they’re getting ready to deal on this one.”
“How convinced is he?” Midnight asked, knowing Joe would give her the real story. “What do you think?”
Joe went into an explanation of the case, during which Midnight leaned back in her chair, putting her feet up on the desk next to him. Joe never missed a beat.
“Okay, so you’re basically agreeing that a tap’s a good idea,” Midnight concluded.
“I think at this point if we don’t do it, we might miss something important.”
Midnight thought about it for another minute, then nodded, sitting up and picking up her pen. As she signed her name to the document, she said, “Is Campari going to do the time on the tap, or do you have someone else in mind?”
“I thought we could get Sloakam to do it,” Joe said. He grinned. “He’s still in training, and we don’t pay him as much to sit on his ass as we do Campari.”
“Ah, yes, the bottom line,” Midnight said, smiling too.
“I hear the chief is a real pain in the ass about the bottom line,” Joe said, glancing over at Kyle.
“Yes, I am, Sinclair, so you better watch yours,” Midnight said, sounding almost serious, but the smile on her face ruined the effect.
“So, how’d it go with Rick?” Joe asked as he stood.
“He survived,” Midnight replied mildly.
“Mmhmm…” Joe looked unconvinced. He’d seen Rick in the hallway earlier that morning; he didn’t look real happy.
“Save it, Sinclair,” Midnight said, narrowing her eyes at him. The last thing she needed was Joe making Kyle feel even more uncomfortable about the whole situation.
Joe lifted his head slightly, as if he’d just gotten her message telepathically, then gave her a narrowed look of his own, as if trying to read her.
“In fact,” Midnight said, trying to stave off any more questions, “what are you and Randy doing for dinner tonight?”
“Nothin’ that I know of. Why?”
Midnight looked at Kyle, belatedly wondering if it would make him more or less uncomfortable to have a group for dinner instead of just them. “Well, Kyle’s coming over to the house, and I was thinking it might be cool to have a few other people there.”
“To run interference?” Joe asked pointedly, his grin back.
Kyle laughed at that. “Couldn’t hurt,” he said, looking at Midnight and realizing she’d downplayed Rick’s reaction to his presence a little bit.
“Sure, why not?” Joe said, “What time?”
“Seven,” Midnight said, relieved that Kyle seemed to like the idea too.
“We’ll be there,” Joe said, then in afterthought, “What about Blue and Susan?”
“Are they a couple currently?” Midnight replied.
“Who knows,” Joe said, laughing. “But they still show up together all the time, so…”
“Yeah, sounds good. Marie can watch Kat and JT,” Midnight added.
Joe looked over at Kyle. “When do you want to see the house?”
“This afternoon okay?”
Joe nodded. “Just come down to my office when you get done here, and we’ll go take a look.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Well, I gotta keep the Assistant Chief happy, right?” Joe said, grinning again.
“Couldn’t hurt,” Kyle said, laughing as he extended his hand to Joe.
Joe shook it, then looked over at Midnight. “Thanks, babe,” he said, holding up the folder. Midnight nodded, and Joe left the office.
Ten minutes later, Midnight’s phone rang again. She was on the other side of her desk, going over some details of the job with Kyle, so she reached over and hit the speaker phone button.
“Chevalier.”
“Chief,” came her secretary Cassandra’s voice. “Sergeant Templeton asked if she could have a few minutes of your time sometime this morning.”
Midnight glanced at her watch. “Sure, tell her to come up now.”
“Okay, will do.”
“Sergeant Templeton?” Kyle said, just trying to get familiar with what names belonged to who.
“My biggest failure as chief so far,” Midnight said, frowning at the thought.
“Failure? How?” Kyle asked, surprised.
“Well, not her so much as her husband.”
“Her husband?”
“Jason Templeton. He was killed in the line of duty my first two months as chief. He was in a pursuit, chasing a suspect who’d decided to make a run for it. Rhiannon, his wife and partner in narcotics, was in the car with him. A child ran out into the road, and in taking evasive maneuvers he rolled the car. He was killed instantly. Rhiannon was hurt, but she survived.”
“And Rhiannon is Sergeant Templeton?”
“Yes. She’s my property sergeant now, because she doesn’t want to go back into the field at this point.”
“Okay, so how is his death your fault?”
“We never were able to make an arrest on the guy he was trying to take down when he was killed.”
“So, I’d say it’s your investigator’s fault, not yours.”
“Yes, but the ultimate responsibility lies with me.”
“Well, not necessarily—” Kyle started, but they were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.
“Come,” Midnight said.
Rhiannon opened the door and walked in. Her eyes went from Midnight to the dark-haired man who was just standing up. Midnight got to her feet too.
“Sergeant Rhiannon Templeton, this is Kyle Masterson. He’s going to be our Assistant Chief.”
Kyle extended his hand to Rhiannon, noting the sad, closed look in her eyes when she raised them to his. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said warmly, smiling.
He was careful to keep the look of surprise off his face. This woman was incredibly beautiful in a very haunting way. She had long, dark auburn hair and rich emerald green eyes. She was tall, easily standing five feet, eleven inches in her two-inch heels. She was dressed in a navy blue skirt and blouse. She looked very business-like. Kyle was trying to equate what Midnight had just told him with the woman standing in front of him. The sadness in her eyes seemed to emanate from her very soul, and he knew that she had lost someone very dear to her. His heart went out to her immediately, because he knew exactly where she was, because he was still there too.
“It’s nice to meet you too. Welcome to the department,” Rhiannon said. Her voice was soft, like she was afraid to speak too loudly.
“Thank you,” he said, glancing over at Midnight then back at Rhiannon. “Should I leave you two alone?”
Rhiannon looked to Midnight, who shrugged. “I don’t see why you can’t stay,” she said, turning back at Rhiannon. “Unless you want him to leave…” Midnight trailed off; she didn’t know what the meeting was about. She had a hunch it wasn’t about property, since they had a meeting scheduled later in the month to discuss that.
Rhiannon seemed to hesitate, then shook her head. They all sat down at the small conference table. Rhiannon took her time gathering her thoughts before she began. “I wanted to talk to you about my sister, Stevie.” Midnight looked surprised, but nodded for her to continue. “I don’t know if you know this, but she quit the department around the time all that stuff happened three years ago…” She trailed off, not wanting to bring up bad memories for Midnight.
“I wasn’t aware of that, no,” Midnight replied.
“Her official reason was ‘to pursue other avenues,’” Rhiannon said, her tone business-like, although it was evident from the worry on her face that she was far from calm inwardly. “Midnight, I think my sister is mixed up with Tiempo.”
Midnight stared back at Rhiannon, actually confou
nded for a few moments by her statement. Then she started to nod slowly as things fell into place. Stevie O’Neil was the more reckless of the two sisters. Rhiannon had a good head on her shoulders, and was sensible even when her world crashed around her. Stevie was a fighter, and she’d throw caution to the wind in a heartbeat to get what she thought she had coming to her, even if that meant endangering her own life.
“She’s trying to back-door him,” Midnight said, summing up Rhiannon’s fears.
“Yes,” Rhiannon said, but then caution took over. “Well, I think so. She hasn’t said anything to that effect. But she’s stopped visiting Mother, and I haven’t seen her for months again. When I ask her what she’s doing, she says ‘freelance security.’ And then today…” She trailed off, as if suddenly questioning her own conclusions.
“Today what?” Midnight asked, the hairs on the back of her neck starting to raise.
“Today I saw that article about the man found dead in his apartment,” Rhiannon said, her voice hushed, as if saying it quietly would reduce the impact.
Midnight sat back, closing her eyes slowly as trepidation poured through her. Another dirty cop. But this one was trying to get justice for herself. She opened her eyes then, leaning forward in her need to know the whole story. “What makes you think Stevie was involved?”
Rhiannon looked at Midnight for a long moment, then shrugged. “The method used—Stevie’s a crack shot. She’d know what her limitations were. And the man’s a known dealer, and I happen to know he’s dealt with Tiempo plenty of times.”
Midnight nodded.
“If she’s a crack shot, why not kill him with the first shot?” Kyle put in, finally giving in to the desire to ask questions.
“Because she wouldn’t want to kill him,” Rhiannon said, her emerald eyes trained on Kyle, not sure how much he knew about her and Jason. “My sister wants Tiempo to pay for what he did to my husband. She wouldn’t kill anyone else unless she was in danger herself.”
Kyle nodded, assimilating what she’d said. “You said she wants him to pay—pay how?” he said evenly. He knew what he was asking, and wasn’t sure whether she’d answer honestly either way.
Past in the Present (MidKnight Blue Book 9) Page 8
