The two men faced each other over the hood of the Vantage. Kyle put his arms on the top of the car, looking once again at the house, then back at Joe. “Well, I may be some dumb flatfoot from New York,” he said, grinning, “but I’m not that dumb. I’ll take it, man. Thanks.”
“You don’t want to see the inside?” Joe asked, grinning too.
“Sure, why not?” Kyle said as they walked toward the front door.
An hour later, in Joe’s car on the way back to the office, Kyle glanced over at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot,” Joe said, sounding like Midnight.
“Earlier, Dibbins called me ‘the train’—you have any idea what that means?”
Joe laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe he said that to you.”
“So you do know what it means.”
Joe grinned. “I should—I’m the one that started calling you that.”
“Ah, I see.” Kyle nodded. “And you started calling me that because…?”
Joe had the graciousness to look a little bit embarrassed. “Basically because every time you came to town, Midnight ended up looking like she’d been hit by a train.”
“And I take it I was the train?” Kyle asked, grinning.
“Uh-huh,” Joe said, smiling.
“Her husband heard this one too?” Kyle asked, his tone taking on a cautious note.
Joe looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. “Chances are real good he has.”
“Great,” Kyle said, sounding like he thought it was anything but.
Joe laughed. “Man, trust me, he’s gonna have heard all about you before the day is out.”
“That ought to be helpful.”
“Look at it this way—there won’t be anything left to hide, right?”
“I didn’t have anything to hide in the first place,” Kyle said confidently.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Joe replied, sounding pleased.
Kyle looked over at Joe, his eyes narrowing. He had a feeling he’d just been tested, and had somehow passed that test. Joe dropped Kyle back at the department to pick up his rental car and then headed home.
Kyle went back to his hotel to try and relax for a while. He knew the evening was probably going to be a struggle, but also that he needed to make his peace with Rick Debenshire before he could really become part of this department. He felt as if the entire department was watching to see if he could do it or not. He lay on the bed, putting himself in Rick’s shoes and trying to see how he would have felt if the roles were reversed. Kyle knew he’d be extremely cautious, and he’d be looking for signs of connivance.
He had no intention of trying anything with Midnight, but the important thing was to make sure Rick understood that. That was going to be the hard part. He couldn’t honestly say that Midnight didn’t hold some sort of intrigue for him. She did—she always had. Did he love her? No, he had never loved her. He’d always liked her a great deal. She was the kind of woman that stuck in a man’s mind long after their relationship was over. One that always made a man wonder if he could have made a long relationship with her, if he could have been strong enough. Midnight was no wallflower; she had more fire than ten normal women. She didn’t take anything lightly; she wasn’t the wishy-washy, lovey-dovey type of woman. When Midnight Chevalier was younger, she had been as forthright and enthusiastic about sex as any man. Kyle admitted even to himself that when he thought of her, Midnight epitomized the wildness of his youth perfectly.
He’d grown up a lot since those days. Falling in love with a woman that wasn’t interested helped a lot. He’d met Barbara when her cousin Mario was on trial for accessory to murder. He claimed he didn’t do it; Barbara believed him, and had been at his trial every day. Kyle was responsible for the arrest, and so was usually present as well. Barbara had come to him the first day and asked him why he thought her cousin was at all responsible for the death of this businessman when they already had in custody the man that had actually shot him. Kyle was taken with her dazzling blue eyes, her honey-gold hair; she had a nice body too, clad in a black Dior dress. So taken, in fact, it took him a minute to recall she’d asked a question.
“Your cousin ordered the hit on Mr. Aliayah,” he had replied finally, his voice authoritative.
“What proof do you have?” Barbara had asked.
Kyle had grinned at her. God, she was naive! She had been twenty years old at the time, and a student at Harvard. He could tell she was young, and had led a very sheltered life. How anyone could not know that Mario Vendelia was one of the lowest lifeforms on Earth—Mario was a man who aspired to be a big man. Since he couldn’t be a big man, he bullied anyone that got in his way. Aliayah had refused to deal with him. He had refused to do what Mario wanted, and Mario had had him killed. Unfortunately for Mario, he hadn’t hired a very bright hitman, but one who had left evidence at the scene that was traced back. The hitman, a small-time loser, had been more than happy to give Mario up. Kyle had all the proof he needed. This young lady was about to get severely disillusioned.
“I have proof, Miss…” Kyle said, trailing off.
“Vicente,” she supplied. “And I asked what proof.”
“I’m aware of that, Ms. Vicente,” he said, grinning. “But unless you have Deputy District Attorney in front of your name or I’m sitting on the witness stand, I don’t have to tell you that.”
Barbara narrowed her eyes at him. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”
“Actually, I just think I’m right,” Kyle replied, refusing to be taken so far with the girl that he’d allow her to get the better of him.
“Well, we’ll just see about that, Officer.”
“Actually, it’s sergeant,” Kyle replied, fixing his bright green eyes on hers.
“Sergeant,” she repeated scornfully, then turned and walked away. He watched her go with a sardonic smile on his face.
Kyle watched her every day after that. He saw her talking to her cousin, obviously trying to give him encouragement. Mario would listen to her and pat her on the head like a good little pupil. Kyle could tell the guy had her snowed. Somehow it really irritated him; it bothered him to see how she looked up at him with such admiration. He knew she was in for a rude awakening, and soon.
The trial lasted a month. During that time Kyle watched as Barbara staunchly stood by her cousin’s side. He saw how pale she became when the pictures of Aliayah’s body were shown; his head had been all but blown off by the hitman’s shotgun. She had obviously become faint, because she got up and walked out of the courtroom. Kyle found himself following. He caught up with her outside the door to the courthouse, leaning back with her head resting against the cold stones.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She looked at him, her eyes accusing. “I’m sickened at the lengths the New York Police Department will go to to frame my cousin.”
“You can’t really think we’re framing him,” Kyle said disbelievingly.
“Yes, I can. You want to make a name for yourself, and this is your big chance.”
Kyle laughed, leaning against the wall next to her. “Is that what he’s told you?”
“He said you just want to take down a member of the family—you don’t care how you do it.”
“A little full of himself, isn’t he?” Kyle said calmly.
“Why do you say that?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at the insult.
“Because he’s about as small-time as ‘the family’ comes. He’d hardly be a big bust for me.”
“You’re saying he isn’t?”
“Not hardly, little one,” he replied, using the endearing phrase he’d been calling her in his mind. She was a tiny little thing; she stood five feet, two inches, and weighed maybe a hundred pounds. At six feet, three inches and 220 pounds, Kyle was a giant compared to her.
Barbara stared back at him, her blue eyes shining brightly with the fire of surety. “My cousin is not a criminal,” she said, her voice strong w
ith conviction.
“I’m afraid you’re about to find out much differently,” Kyle said, his voice softening, as he looked down at her.
And find out she did. When the witnesses came to the stand, one after another describing what kind of man Mario was, Kyle could see Barbara’s faith in her cousin wavering. He found himself worrying about her. She seemed so delicate, so fragile, and he wasn’t sure she could handle this kind of shattering disenchantment.
The day the jury came back with their verdict, Kyle made a point of standing in the aisle near where Barbara sat. Her eyes traveled over to him a few times while the jury was questioned, and Kyle could see worry in them. Finally the judge asked the jury for their verdict, and Mario was pronounced guilty as charged. Barbara dropped her head in her hands, bending forward to rest her chest on her knees. Mario was cuffed and led from the courtroom. He didn’t even bother to look back at his cousin. People filed out; no one bothered Barbara. It was apparent she was the only member of the family actually at the trial. Mario was very small-time; he didn’t warrant the backing of the family.
Kyle walked over to Barbara, sitting down and watching her. It was obvious she was crying, but she was doing it very quietly. Kyle waited, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling loosely. It took her a few minutes to notice him. When she did, she didn’t lift her face to his; she merely murmured “Go away” through her hands. Kyle didn’t reply; he just waited. “You’re just dying to gloat, aren’t you?” she said, still not looking up at him.
“No,” he replied simply.
“What do you want?” she asked, sitting up to stare at him.
His reply died in his throat, strangled because seeing her lovely face tear-streaked and devastated had nearly choked him. He had to swallow a few times to get his voice to come out. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispered.
Apparently that was too much for her to take, because she just crumpled against him, crying. Kyle was surprised, but his arms went around her protectively.
That night he took her to dinner. They talked and she told him about her cousin being her best friend when they were kids. That Mario had been the one to stick up for her when the bigger kids would pick on her. He had been her knight in shining armor. She couldn’t believe he would do something so horrible as order a man killed. She admitted that they hadn’t been as close since they’d both gotten out of high school, that Mario did seem so much different now. Kyle found himself drawn in by her innocence and her loyalty to her friend, even if she had been wrong about him.
In the end, Kyle had fallen so completely for her that he’d been willing to do anything to get her to see him. He’d shown up at her apartment with flowers, and sat and talked with her for hours. It had been weeks before he’d even felt brave enough to kiss her, but things moved quickly after that. They’d been married a few months afterward, much to her family’s dismay. He was “the cop,” the outsider; he still was to many of them.
Losing her after fifteen years of marriage had been the hardest thing Kyle had ever had to go through. He just prayed that someday he would feel normal again. He was hoping this move to San Diego would do it. For him, it meant finally getting away from New York and everything that reminded him of Barbara. For his son Nick, he hoped the move would break him out of the cycle he was stuck in.
Thirteen-year-old Nicholas Masterson had been hanging out with his Uncle Tony a lot in the years since Barbara had died. That would have been understandable, since Tony was Barbara’s oldest brother, but Tony was also a numbers man for “the family.” Kyle was sure Tony was getting Nick interested in “the business,” and Kyle didn’t want his son even remotely involved in anything illegal. In the last year, Nick’s attitude had become increasingly belligerent, and he’d developed an opinion of cops as “pigs.” Nick and Kyle had come close to out and out blows a few times. Nick had grown into his height of six feet over the summer, and he seemed to believe that put him close to being even with Kyle on every level. Kyle consistently reminded him that he was by no means a man yet, and at the rate he was going he wouldn’t live to be one either. Only time would tell if the move would serve the purposes he intended. That time would start tonight, with this meeting with Midnight’s husband. He hoped it would go well.
Kyle was the first to arrive that evening. Mikeyla answered the door. She was surprised at how handsome this new Assistant Chief was. She’d heard her parents talking about him earlier in the evening.
“You must be Mikeyla,” Kyle said, his smile open.
Mikeyla nodded. “Mom and Dad are in the kitchen.” She let him in and led the way through the house.
Kyle caught a glimpse of Rick and Midnight’s quick kiss as he followed Mikeyla into the kitchen. Midnight turned around and looked at him, smiling. She glanced back at Rick, who now stood behind her, watching Kyle over her head. Joe hadn’t been kidding about the guy being good-looking.
Midnight never did choose ugly guys, did she? Rick thought wryly.
“Kyle Masterson, this is Rick Debenshire. Rick, this is Kyle,” Midnight said, making the formal introduction as she stepped to the side.
Kyle walked forward, extending his hand to Rick without hesitation, his eyes on the younger man. Rick took the proffered hand, shaking it and nodding, as if Kyle had passed the first test. Rick turned and walked over to the refrigerator. Opening it, he reached in and pulled out two bottles of beer, holding one up to Kyle. “Beer?”
Kyle nodded, taking the bottle. After a long moment, Rick gestured with his head toward the deck outside. Kyle nodded and followed him out.
Rick leaned against the railing, looking out over the ocean. The sun was just setting, turning the whole world shades of pink, blue, and purple. Kyle stood watching both the sunset and Rick, not sure what was to come.
“So,” Rick said finally. “You were with Midnight way back when.”
“Yes, I was,” Kyle replied calmly.
Rick turned toward him, his eyes searching his face. Kyle stood four inches taller than Rick, but it was obvious there were no inferiority issues in Rick’s mind. After a long moment, he nodded again, looking thoughtful. “It was a long time ago.”
It was Kyle’s turn to nod. “Yes.”
Rick nodded again and turned back to the railing. Both men were silent for a long time, lost in their own thoughts.
“Midnight told me about your wife,” Rick said finally, his voice quiet and respectful. “I’m sorry.”
Kyle instantly felt a lump rise in his throat at the tone of Rick’s voice. He turned to look out over the ocean, trying to rein in his emotions before speaking again. He knew he was talking to someone who understood how it felt. He knew Rick’s history, that not too long ago Rick had been in the hell Kyle was still in. Only Rick’s nightmare had ended.
Finally he blew his breath out in a frustrated sigh. “I still miss her every day.”
Rick glanced over at him, his eyes showing his understanding of Kyle’s situation. “So some good friends wouldn’t hurt,” he said simply.
Kyle was momentarily surprised by Rick’s statement, more so when the younger man extended his hand, staring straight into his eyes. As he clasped Rick’s hand and nodded, Kyle realized he had just seen a glimpse of what Midnight loved about this man. He had expected to come here and soothe ruffled feathers and deal with jealous tirades. Instead Rick had offered him friendship. It was obvious that Rick Debenshire was quite confident about his place in his wife’s heart; the thought made Kyle’s own heart ache a little more.
When Rick and Kyle walked back in, Midnight watched them both closely. She caught Rick’s grin and lifted eyebrow, as if he were asking, What did you think I was going to do to the guy? Rick walked over to her, kissing her lightly on the forehead just as the doorbell rang.
A few moments later, Joe walked in, his hand clasped in Randy’s as he led her into the room. He walked right over to Kyle, shaking his hand and grinning as his glance slid from Kyle to Rick and back again. Then he t
urned to Randy, who was giving him a mockingly stern look. She’d already told him in the car not to cause problems, but she knew her husband well; she knew he was going to give Rick as much grief over this as possible. Randy was beginning to think Joe was taking lessons from his cousin Christian, who had a propensity for stirring up trouble in an otherwise serene situation.
“Kyle, this is my wife, Randy,” Joe said, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “Randy,” Joe said in a theatrically hushed tone, “be nice. This is the guy that could rescind that extended leave of absence you’re on.”
Randy elbowed Joe, making him laugh, as she extended her hand to Kyle and smiled warmly. “Please excuse my husband, Chief. He’s a troublemaker.”
Kyle laughed at that, shaking Randy’s hand. “Yes, I’ve already dealt with him on this kind of thing. And please, call me Kyle.”
Joe went to the refrigerator and leaned over the top of the door, giving Midnight a quick kiss on the lips. “When’s dinner? I’m starved.” He glanced back at Randy, gesturing to the bottles of beer in askance.
“No, no beer for me,” Randy said. “But I will have what you’re having, Midnight. Is that a merlot?” She gestured at the wine glass Midnight had just picked up.
A discussion ensued between the two women about the wine, while Joe and Rick bantered about some case that had gone south on them that day. Kyle watched it all, thinking it was amazing that these four were obviously so close and yet Midnight and Joe had indeed been a huge item at one point. Kyle even remembered finding himself a bit jealous of the blond Englishman’s firm hold on her heart at some points in their relationship. Whenever Joe called, Midnight was there for him, even if it meant getting out of bed with Kyle there at three in the morning to sit and talk to Joe on the phone for hours. It was obvious Rick and Joe were good friends, and Joe’s wife clearly had no problems with Midnight and Joe’s relationship either.
Kyle was beginning to realize that being around this dynamic group might be an altogether healing experience for him. He knew that back in New York, with people who had histories like this, his fellow cops would be killing each other about now.
Past in the Present (MidKnight Blue Book 9) Page 10
