“I hate doing this.” Her blue eyes rounded with concern.
“I know.” So do I. The giddiness he’d felt since he’d kissed Zoe had lingered until he pulled up at the police station. For eight years he’d come here, given his all to the force, even believed the force was his family. Only to have that family turn its back on him. And when Lisa jumped ship like everyone on the force, it was like the damn piece of straw that did the camel in. It made him realize that caring for people, really caring, could do him in, too.
They got out of the car. He met Zoe at the front of the car and tried to put his complete focus on her and not the knots in his gut.
Logically, it shouldn’t bother him. It was history. It should even bring a bit of pride to walk back and show his face to the nonbelievers.
He hadn’t come back here since they brought him in and stripped him of his gun, his badge, and his belief in justice.
Since he’d been released, he’d bought himself several guns, didn’t want the damn badge, but his belief in the justice system had forever been changed. Oh, he still believed in justice, he just now knew you couldn’t count on it… or the people who swore by it.
Opening the door, he guided her to the front desk, which was manned by a woman in her mid-fifties who had her nose buried in a book. He recognized the title of the latest New York Times bestseller. And he recognized the woman behind the novel, too.
His chest tightened. “This is Zoe Adams, and we’re here to see Officer Thompson.”
The woman looked up, and her eyes widened with recognition.
Lois MacDonald had a passion for the written word, which meant they’d always had something to talk about. He wouldn’t call what they had friendship, but it was close.
“Tyler? I… wondered if I’d ever see you again.” She blushed as if embarrassed.
“I’m like a bad penny. Just keep showing up,” he said. “Is Thompson in?”
He knew Larry Thompson, too. Unlike Mrs. MacDonald, he hadn’t cared for the guy then, and something told Tyler he was going to like the guy even less now. But to get Zoe out of here without any trouble, he’d behave. “I’ll give him a call.” She paused and then started to speak again.
And damn it, he knew before she opened her mouth what she planned on saying.
“I’m sorry. For what happened. It shouldn’t have happened.”
Emotion tightened his gut. When he was first released, he couldn’t wait to hear someone say it. Now, he hated it. What do you say to people who you actually considered one of your tribe, people who you would have defended to the end, but people who turned their back on you before you even got a chance to tell your side of the story?
He couldn’t say it was all right, because it wasn’t. He couldn’t say he forgave them, because he hadn’t forgiven anyone. He could tell them to go fuck themselves, and part of him wanted to, but he didn’t want them to know he still cared what they thought. And he didn’t care. Well, not as much as he used to.
“It really shouldn’t have happened,” she repeated.
“No, it shouldn’t have.” He touched Zoe’s elbow to motion her forward.
They got several feet when Zoe leaned in. “I’m sorry. I read the story but it didn’t click that this was the same station.” She stopped and caught his arm. “Let’s go. You shouldn’t have to be here.”
“It’s fine. Let’s just—”
“No, it’s not.” She looked at him, as if she could read every emotion running through him. And if she could, so could everyone else. He didn’t like that.
“I’ve known you only a couple of days, and I already know you couldn’t have done what they accused you of doing. How could they…?”
He’d asked himself that question. And answered it, but it didn’t make it right. Still he told her, “There was a lot of evidence.”
“But they knew you,” she insisted.
He met her gaze, and there was something in her eyes that touched his soul. He wasn’t even sure what it was, but it lifted the heaviness in his chest. Suddenly, he didn’t care about Lois MacDonald or all the other jerks here.
“It doesn’t matter.” He smiled, not knowing exactly why he was smiling, but—
“Goddamn it! I knew he was lying to me.” A male voice boomed.
Tyler recognized the voice, and he knew the meeting wasn’t going to go well.
Tyler looked at Larry Thompson. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was about Zoe. He flashed a smile he didn’t really feel. “Zoe Adams, this is Detective Thompson. I think you spoke on the phone.”
Zoe forced a smile and nodded. He’d warned Zoe that Thompson could be uncouth. And now more than ever, he worried Zoe might not be able to do this.
Thompson, an old-school kind of guy, wore a tie to work every day as if that made up for his lack of manners in every other department. Truth was, he didn’t have any manners. Even worse was the fact that his tie usually carried evidence of the man’s last meal. Possibly yesterday’s as well. Tyler’s gaze shifted down to the stained piece of silk resting against the man’s gut.
Zoe nodded again. “You said you needed to see me.”
“What the hell is going on?” Thompson asked Tyler, ignoring Zoe’s attempt at politeness. “I swear they’d have done the world a favor if they’d have kept your asses locked up.”
Anger stirred in Tyler’s gut, but he bit it back. “You called Miss Adams. You tell us.”
“Your partner lied through his teeth to me.”
“He didn’t lie,” Zoe said, and stiffened her shoulders. “I believe he told you that he was in the neighborhood investigating a case when the shooting occurred.”
“And somehow you just happened to get your apartment shot up, right? And you just happen to show up here with his partner. And it’s all a coincidence. I’m not supposed to believe any of this is connected. Look, whatever is going on you’d better trust us and not those fruitcakes.”
Tyler watched Zoe’s expression harden. “I hear these shootings happen all the time in my neighborhood,” she said, surprising Tyler. He’d told her what to say, but he hadn’t expected her to say it so convincingly.
“I should have checked the neighborhood out closer before I moved in,” she continued, ad-libbing now. “Then again, I was under the assumption that I could have faith in this police department. Sadly, I was mistaken.”
“Do I look like an idiot to you?” Thompson snapped, not surprising Tyler with his abruptness. Without thinking, he moved between the asshole and Zoe.
Tyler had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but Zoe shot around him and let loose first.
“I’m going to assume that’s a rhetorical question and you really don’t care to hear my opinion.”
Zoe’s comment was so close to the words resting on the tip of his tongue, Tyler almost laughed. Of course, he’d have pointed out the gravy on the man’s tie and used a bit more colorful language. She did it in her Alabama, almost ladylike, drawl, and he had to admit he liked that drawl.
“But just in case I’m mistaken in my assumption, Detective, my answer would be dependent upon whether or not you were part of the asinine group who sat back and did nothing when three of their own men were arrested for a crime they didn’t commit.”
Tyler smiled. Oh, yeah, he liked everything about her. He couldn’t remember liking this much about a person, so fast, in… a very long time.
Thompson opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it. “If all this is a coincidence, how do you two know each other?” Thompson’s words came out like an accusation.
“We met at the diner where Zoe works,” Tyler said. “She dropped a couple of plates of food on me, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.” For good measure, he looped his arm around Zoe and slipped his palm in the soft curve of her waist.
His hand fit perfectly there—as if it had been made to fit in that sweet spot. Zoe leaned into him. His heart got another shot of adrenaline when the side of her breast brushed up against h
is rib cage. Oh yeah, he could get used to this.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TEN MINUTES LATER, Tyler and Zoe walked out of the Glencoe PD. He still had his arm around her, his hand still warm in the curve of her waist.
He leaned down and whispered, “You did great.”
She frowned as they continued to the car. “I don’t think he believed a word I said.”
“Doesn’t matter what he believes. You didn’t say anything that gave him a reason to doubt you or to think you’re into something criminal. He’ll let it go.”
Arriving at his car, he needed to move his hand from around her to retrieve his keys from his pocket. But damn, he didn’t want to let her go. Not now, and maybe not for a very long time. But he couldn’t just stand here in the parking lot with her snug against him.
Accepting the inevitable, he slipped his hand around her back and went to fish out his keys. As he feared, the moment his hand left her waist, she stepped back. He figured he’d have to work hard to get that close to her again. Not that it wouldn’t be worth the effort.
He unlocked the car and opened her door. She slipped into the front seat and looked up. Her frown deepened. “I lied.”
“For a good reason.” Just like I did, he thought but didn’t say it. He fought the urge to lean down and kiss the frown from her lips.
“Doesn’t make it right,” she said.
“I think it does.” He shut her door.
When he climbed in through the driver’s side door and their gazes met, he spotted the whispering of pain in her eyes. “It’s not the same thing,” he said, knowing she was thinking of her parents.
“Isn’t it?” The pain in her eyes became more evident. “You want to know what’s awful? I’m almost hoping that I learn my biological parents were abusive to me so I can justify why the Adamses would have done it. Maybe the Bradfords gave me to them. But even then, why couldn’t they have told me the truth?”
The questions he needed to ask her bubbled to the surface. He almost didn’t want to ask, afraid she wouldn’t welcome the questions, but he needed to know the answers. “Your parents… the Adamses, they never…” His gut tightened at the thought of anyone hurting her. “Did they abuse you?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Never.”
“Your dad… he never…”
“Oh, God, no!” She paused. “Don’t you see, that’s what makes this so hard? I always thought they were the perfect parents and I was the imperfect child. We didn’t have a lot of money, but they paid for me to see a shrink all those years. If they were guilty of anything, it was of loving me too much. Giving in to my every whim. I said I wanted to play guitar, and my dad went out and bought me a guitar.”
A sheen of tears filled her eyes. “I changed to the trumpet midstream, and when he couldn’t afford to buy one, he rented one. He paid for ballet lessons because I was certain I wanted to be a ballerina when I grew up.”
One tear slipped from her lashes, and she wiped it away. “When I turned sixteen they bought me a used Saturn—even though my dad’s truck was on its last leg. They never missed a school event, even in high school when none of the other parents went. And when Dad died, Mom pulled herself together and continued to be Supermom.”
Tyler saw her struggle to keep it together even as her emotions were too close to the surface.
“She started tutoring kids to pay for my college education. Only after she died did I learn she’d mortgaged the house to pay off my college loans. But now I look back, and I… I can’t help but wonder if how they acted wasn’t all a lie. Did they really not love me but were just trying to make up for kidnapping me?”
He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. Her skin felt soft. So soft. “It’s a hell of a long time to pretend to care about someone.”
Tyler figured Lisa’s two-year stretch had been pushing it. And she’d been damn good at pretending, too. She had him wanting things he’d never wanted until he’d met her. Like to give the whole domesticated life a try, even when the odds were he’d fail at it like his parents had. Shit! Why was he thinking about Lisa again?
“It’s a hell of a big lie to cover up, too.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. What am I doing?” She rolled her eyes. “Bitching and whining when you’re the one who should be furious. I could have gone by myself, you know. You shouldn’t have had to face those… people. Though, I do have other names for them. He called you a fruitcake, and the man was wearing half his lunch on his tie.”
He smiled and got that feeling again, the lightness in his chest. The best he could guess, and he was good at guessing, the sentiment had something to do with her defending him. “Actually, I’m glad I went.” For the first time in a long time, Tyler actually believed he’d taken a step forward, away from something that had weighed him down for a long time. Hell, maybe his niece Anna had been right. He’d been a sad clown. All he’d needed was some time with a soft Alabama girl, with her sexy drawl and sweet body, to get him back on track.
“What’s next?” she asked.
His mind was on finding a way to get her back on the sofa and in his lap, but he knew she didn’t mean that. “Tomorrow, I’ll call about the birth certificate.”
“It’s that easy? They can just tell you if it’s real?”
“If it’s real, they’ll have it on file. I’m betting your parents had a false one made.”
She blinked as if even that disturbed her. “What do we do then?”
“Then we’re going to see about getting some DNA from Bradford. On the sly, of course. Rick works part-time doing security detail at the Bradford mansion. It won’t be admissible in court, but we’ll know the truth then.”
“How long does that take?”
“For the tests, three or four days.”
She nodded, and he could tell from her expression that she struggled hearing this.
Right before he turned on the engine, her cell phone rang. She looked at her purse and then shot him a panicked look. “It has to be him.”
“Hand me the phone.”
It was on the third ring before she got it out of her purse. Once she had it, she threw the phone at him as if it were hot. It hit him right in the crotch. He jolted and picked it up.
“Sorry,” she said.
He looked at the small screen. “It’s someone from the diner calling.” The phone stopped ringing. He looked back at Zoe. “Probably Dixie; I went there before I went to your place. I needed your address, and she wasn’t eager to give it to me. I told her I thought you were in trouble.”
She frowned. “Did you tell her about the Bradfords?”
“No.”
She stared at her phone. “Oh, shit. I have to work tomorrow.”
“You can’t,” he said.
“But Dixie’s counting on me. I’m on the schedule.”
He frowned. “She can count on someone else. Call her back right now and let her know.”
When Zoe looked about to argue, he added, “When I was at the diner, one of the waitresses said someone besides me had called looking for you there.”
“Who?” she asked. “I don’t know anyone here.”
“I’m guessing it was the same person who used your apartment for target practice.”
Her brow crinkled. “I didn’t even stop to think. How could whoever did this know where I live? Or where I work?”
“I’m betting they’ve followed you from the mansion.”
“You think… it’s someone there?”
“That’s the only thing that makes sense right now.” He handed her the phone. “Call Dixie and let her know you won’t be working.”
“This sucks.” She started punching in a number. “I hate letting people down.”
“Getting shot… again… would suck more,” he said.
Sleep hadn’t come easy that night. And when it did, she was yanked back to the recurring nightmare she’d had for years when young. Locked in a dark closet, she had to use the bathroom. She didn’t want to wet her pants
—she was a big girl and had stopped doing that—but she didn’t want to knock on that door and ask them to let her out. She knew whoever was out there wasn’t nice.
Panic filled her lungs, then Lucky’s comforting meow brought her out of it. She pushed her eyes open and sat up.
Lucky continued to paw at her face, seeking a bit of late-night TLC. She reached up to comply when suddenly nothing felt right. Not the bed. Not the blanket. Or the smells.
Where was she?
Everything came back. Safe house. Telling Dixie she couldn’t come in for a few days. And… Tyler Lopez.
A vision of him filled her mind. Her heart did a little flip.
She remembered getting back to the apartment and dropping on the sofa, both mentally and physically exhausted. Tyler had offered to order some take-out food, but she’d told him she couldn’t eat. He’d turned on the television and sat beside her, far enough on the end of the sofa that it didn’t make her uncomfortable.
What had made her uncomfortable was the elephant sitting in the room. The kiss, the way she’d climbed on top of him. She needed to make it clear that it had been a mistake, that it shouldn’t have happened. That it wouldn’t happen again. But the right words never came.
She remembered him flipping through the channels and stopping on the History Channel. He’d looked at her as if asking if that was acceptable. She’d nodded, and within five minutes she’d started to nod off. He’d tried to get her to take the bedroom, but she’d woken enough to adamantly refuse. It was too early, plus she planned on taking the sofa.
The last thing she remembered was watching the Trojan horse being rolled into Troy. She must have fallen asleep.
God, she hoped she hadn’t snored or anything.
She felt a blanket slip off her knees to land on the floor. There was a pillow there, too. Tyler had probably covered her and supplied her with a pillow. Nice guy. Good pep talk giver, too. Great kisser.
Don’t go there!
Seeing her purse on the coffee table, she dug inside it until she found her phone and then hit a button to see the time—three a.m.
Blame It on Texas Page 15
