by V. K. Powell
“What’s your problem, Barnes? You’re a twenty-year veteran with eight years’ supervisory experience. What were you thinking…or do I want to know?”
“I beg your pardon, ma’am?” Barnes stammered. “What do you mean?”
“I mean don’t ever let me see or even hear a rumor that you placed your hands on a female officer’s butt or any other part of her anatomy again. In private such behavior is forbidden, in front of her peers it’s even more degrading and inappropriate. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“Oh, you mean the button thing?” Barnes must have smiled.
“Precisely. And wipe that stupid grin off your face or I’ll have your ass up on charges so fast you’ll wonder why you didn’t have time to resign. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, you’re right. It was uncalled for and I apologize.”
“I’m not the one who deserves an apology, Sergeant.”
“Right, ma’am, I’ll see to it immediately.”
Keri grabbed her reports and dashed toward the lineup area, unable to keep the smile off her face. For the first time in her career, somebody had called one of the boys on his sexist behavior. Alex had sliced Barnes like a zero-degree wind chill. She would’ve probably done the same for any other officer, but Keri was glad it had been for her.
Barnes stuck his head in the door as he passed the squad room. He shot her a blistering stare and mumbled, “Morgan, sorry about earlier, you know, the button.” His squinty face was splotchy and contorted with anger.
Keri felt vindicated, but before she could reply, Barnes vanished. Knowing there’d be hell to pay for that apology, she gathered her equipment bag and walked the frayed carpet path from the squad room to the parking exit. A suffocating blanket of heat and exhaust fumes enveloped her when she kicked open the metal door to the parking deck. Not far from her, Alex was rearranging something in the trunk of an unmarked Crown Victoria.
Keri dropped her bag beside her patrol vehicle, took a deep breath, and approached. “Excuse me, Lieutenant.”
Alex closed the trunk and turned, her piercing eyes momentarily devoid of their customary defenses. Keri noted the up-and-down evaluation of her body. The intensity of it unnerved her and she shifted uncomfortably. She inhaled the light musk fragrance already embedded in her olfactory memory, the subtly commanding fragrance she recalled from earlier. It defined this woman.
“Yes, Officer Morgan?”
The openness of her gaze caught Keri off guard. Reluctant to break the connection, she said, “I just wanted to say thank you. I mean, I wasn’t eavesdropping. I appreciate what you did for me with Sergeant Barnes.”
With a blink, the contact was broken and her customary guarded façade was in place. “You shouldn’t have heard that, Morgan. Women have a hard enough time in this job. I just think we should try to keep the playing field as even as possible.”
Keri couldn’t believe it. The woman sounded almost sincere. “Well, I appreciate it, but I don’t want any trouble.”
Alex regarded Keri with a mixture of what appeared to be curiosity and confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to file a complaint against my sergeant.”
“That won’t be necessary. I observed the violation myself, so if any charges were going to be brought, I would do it. You needn’t worry.”
“Good, just so we’re clear.” Keri hesitated, trying to decide if and how to broach her next subject. No guts, no glory, she finally concluded. “So, I guess the fact that a councilman’s daughter is our latest victim elevates the case to APE status.”
Blood drained from Alex’s face. Her brown eyes turned to deep pools of pure sadness and welled with tears. One of her hands flattened against the side of her vehicle as though she needed support.
Keri knew without a doubt that she’d said something terribly wrong. “I meant an acute political emergency. You know, bad case, bad press.”
Alex’s lips moved but no sound emerged. A quick flick of her hand dispatched a single tear.
Keri wanted to hug her and erase the anguish so painfully etched into her delicate features. She stepped closer, the sorrow drawing her in. “My God, you knew her, didn’t you? I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
The ever-present icy exterior had vanished before her eyes and Keri saw a woman deeply affected by the death of a friend. She watched in disbelief as Alex straightened, nodded in affirmation, and regained control of her crumbling façade.
Alex nervously combed the sides of her auburn hair with her fingers. “She interned for me last summer. Stacey is—was a wonderful young woman.” Her voice cracked at the end and she turned to open her car door.
“I’m really sorry, Lieutenant. We’ll catch this guy. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you for that, Morgan.” Alex closed the door of her Crown Victoria and started the engine.
“Have a nice day, ma’am.”
Keri waited for her to drive off before strolling back to the patrol car. She couldn’t believe the glimpse of uncharacteristic emotion she’d seen from Alex. Was it possible she’d misjudged the lieutenant? She had to admit she was now more intrigued than ever about her, yet despite that unguarded moment and the fact that Alex had taken up for her with Sergeant Barnes, a nagging feeling remained. Keri didn’t trust Alex’s motives, and she doubted that would change anytime soon.
*
Alex pushed open the oak front door of her ranch-style house with her sneaker-clad foot and dropped her briefcase. As she did most evenings, she took in the collection of inherited antiques mingled with junk that served as furnishings and vowed to have a tag sale. It was time to upgrade her home and her life. Both had been prisoners of the past for too long.
Her body ached with physical fatigue, and a deep sadness clung to her like a wet woolen pea coat. She couldn’t shake the image of Stacey Chambers’s body, lifeless and frozen in an epileptic twist of disfigurement. It was hard to comprehend how that once lively young woman had been taken away. Alex was convinced Stacey’s death was not from a self-administered overdose. Whatever had happened, someone else was responsible, either deliberately or accidentally. She needed to know who was with Stacey immediately before she died, and exactly what was going on at that community watch meeting.
Alex slumped into her father’s worn leather recliner and rested her head in her hands. She and Stacey hadn’t been close personal friends but they’d formed a bond of mutual respect and appreciation. They shared an understanding of dedication to purpose and service for the greater good. This was a young woman who would’ve made a difference in the world. Alex lost track of time as the tears started without invitation and refused to stop. Memories of Stacey’s laughter, her plans for the future, and her compassion for others faded with the sobs Alex had held in all day.
The world sucks, she thought as she slammed her fists against the chair arms and rose to pace her cluttered living room. Whoever did this to Stacey would not go unpunished. She owed it to her and the other young people who had died before realizing their potential. She wanted this killer of dreams and purveyor of poison to rot in prison for the rest of his natural life. Better yet, she wanted him to do something stupid and invite a bullet.
For the first time in her career, Alex considered the risks she was willing to take in order to make this case. The very idea of anything illegal, immoral, or unethical grated at her nature, but she wondered if her strict adherence to the rules all these years had allowed others like Sonny Davis to go unpunished. Other officers occasionally skirted procedures or bent the rules, and didn’t the end justify the means, especially if the end result was justice? The thought sent a shiver up her spine.
Her mind flashed unwanted pictures of Keri Morgan’s unencumbered breasts under that tank top. She wondered if the skimpy attire had been the result of a wardrobe oversight or an intentional effort to attract attention as she came into work. Alex tried to dodge her wayward thoughts as she walked to the bathroom.
The old reel-to-reel answering machine on the phone stand in the hallway blinked that she had a message waiting. She ignored it. All she wanted was a hot shower to soothe her aching muscles followed by a vodka tonic to erase Keri Morgan from her mind.
She turned on the hot water and undressed. How could she possibly work with Keri on the task force when Keri gave her killer looks like today? Not to mention the fact that Alex had physically craved her breasts not six hours earlier. What a mess. Questionable professional ethics were bad enough, but add to that Keri’s… Alex struggled for the right word. She was just too damn…vibrant.
You’re making no sense at all, Alex chastised herself. One of the reasons she was drawn to Keri was that she bristled with life. Alex hadn’t felt that energy in herself or anyone else for a long while. She showered and dressed without wasting time, then wandered out to the hallway and mashed the rewind button on her blinking machine. The tape backed up with a slow whirring growl, then began its delivery.
“Hello, gorgeous, it’s Helen.”
Alex jabbed the rewind button and stared at the phone. She suddenly hated the antiquated technology that prohibited immediate erasure of that deadly sweet voice. But she’d been unable to part with her father’s only concession to the high-tech age in their home.
Alex rattled off a list of reasons Helen Callahan might call her. Maybe she’d already heard about the task force and wanted to horn in on the political action. Or perhaps she was just horny and thought Alex was weak enough to entertain the idea of having sex with her again. The most likely reason was that she was drunk and lonely again. Alex dropped into a turquoise vinyl chair at her kitchen table and stared at the Formica and chrome top, feeling as dated as the hand-me-down dinette set. Different emotions warred in her mind. She knew what was coming every time she allowed herself to remember Helen: seductively promising words followed by the skillfully manipulative hands and mouth, ending with the inevitable knife to the heart.
Helen had strolled into the Granville detective division five years ago, a newly promoted Layton PD lieutenant, with an in-your-face confidence. She was supervising an organized crime task force involving the two agencies. Methodically working the room, she shook hands with everyone, saving Alex for last. Helen’s five-foot-five frame was perfectly accentuated in a navy suit. Her beauty was topped off with blond hair and blue-gray eyes that pierced Alex’s soul. When their hands touched, Alex was captivated by Helen’s warmth and seductive charm. They quickly became inseparable, making excuses for unnecessary meetings just to see each other.
Two weeks later they made love for the first time in the lift of Helen’s building, and Alex was undeniably lost. Even now, she couldn’t escape the vivid memory. She didn’t even bother to fight it; she simply gave in, letting herself drift back in time. Helen had punched the Stop button. The tiny wood-lined cubicle jolted to a halt and Alex’s breath caught in her throat as Helen pressed her against the wall. She ripped Alex’s blouse from her jeans and quickly unfastened the buttons. Her lips were hot and hard against Alex’s breasts, sucking and biting them into erection. Alex’s knees trembled and her clit ached with pulsing beats. She tried to regain her composure and calm the fire that threatened to blind her to all sense of decorum. Her protests were pointless.
Helen said, “I have to fuck you right now. I can’t wait.”
Alex had melted into her arms, moisture gathering between her legs. No one had ever been so desperate for her.
Helen unzipped Alex’s jeans and slid her hand into the slippery warmth. “See? You want me.”
“But we’re almost to your apartment.” Alex struggled to move away but Helen lowered her to the floor and pinned her. She was vulnerable. It turned her on and Helen knew it.
“You’re so wet. I know you want it as badly as I do.”
“But the alarm…people will come.” The fear of interruption only served to heighten Alex’s arousal.
“It’s broken. Fuck them anyway. I only care about you.”
Helen’s mouth covered hers with bruising kisses as her hand claimed Alex’s center. She rode Alex’s thigh as her fingers plunged deeper and deeper inside. Her expert hands stroked Alex with such intensity that the sensations fluctuated between pleasure and pain. Alex could feel Helen’s need to have her, to possess her. She wanted to please Helen, but something held her back.
“You’re safe with me, Alex. Let go for once in your life.”
And God help her, she did. Alex had wanted to trust someone to love her and take care of her. She’d grown weary of always being on guard, never feeling safe. Need that intense must have been love. She gave in to the feeling. Desire overtook her and physical pleasure became her only goal.
Helen felt her response and drove her fingers deep inside, making Alex’s body burst into a wave of light. Tears, sweat, and come spotted the elevator floor as Helen continued to devour her. Alex had never imagined such passionate physical gratification.
As their bodies trembled, Helen whispered, “You’re mine now.”
If Alex had only known the literal intent of those words. She had trusted Helen totally and felt safe. She’d surrendered to the emotional involvement and craved the sexual excitement. Helen had filled a void, and Alex had allowed her to control their life together. The four-year exchange aroused passion and volatility beyond Alex’s wildest imagination and nightmares. Ultimately it almost destroyed her. Helen was a violent alcoholic, who came from a long line of similar relatives. Her obsessive jealousy had isolated Alex from friends and family. Alex’s attempts to extricate herself from their relationship always ended in a scream-fest followed by threats of further violence.
How could she have been so stupid? And why did she still feel drawn to Helen?
Maybe it was because everyone she loved had left her all at once. Helen had dumped her for another woman a week after Alex’s parents were killed in the crash of their private company plane. She felt orphaned and abandoned, and she knew that made her vulnerable. She didn’t trust herself right now and she certainly couldn’t trust other people. Self-pleasuring and anonymous sexual liaisons satisfied her physical needs. Intimacy was an indulgence she couldn’t allow.
Alex picked up the phone and ordered a pizza. As she waited for the delivery, she agonized again over the same old questions. How could she have trusted Helen so completely? When did her judgment go so off track? Her heart ached with the loneliness of too much control and too little hope. Maybe it could be different. I may be bruised, but I’m not broken. Perhaps it was time to find out. She allowed the thought to sit with her for a moment before common sense reasserted itself. No, the only true safety was in maintaining distance and not getting involved.
Chapter Three
Alex was about to check off when she heard the hostage situation call. She’d attended two afternoon lineups and three night-shift assemblies and had been running calls for the past three hours. She wanted to find the other candidate for the task force ASAP, and seeing officers in action was a good start. She fought the urge to respond directly to the scene. The field was not her command, and male egos were fragile.
“Dispatch, this is Lieutenant Troy. I’m in the vicinity. I’ll be at the staging area.”
She pulled into the Quick Stop parking lot at Cypress and Fourth, threw her jacket in the backseat, and took a ballistic vest from the trunk. She pulled it over her shirt as she approached officers already at the staging area.
Great, Keri thought, that’s all I need, Lieutenant Hard-Ass looking over my shoulder again. As if one hostage taker isn’t enough. She crouched at the corner of the residence behind a row of dense pampas grass, her pulse pounding as she awaited further instructions. She could hear the television next door, a barking dog, and even crickets in the grass with pinpoint clarity. Worst-case scenarios flashed through her mind and she played each out to its logical conclusion. Her skin tingled with sensitivity as the seconds crawled.
“All units on the scene…” The dispatcher’s voice had gon
e up an octave. “We just received a call from a relative of the reported victim that the male subject at this address is holding a female hostage and threatening to kill her if anyone interferes. They say he’s hooked on meth and sounded high. For information only, our original call came from the victim. She advised he has a gun.”
Sergeant Barnes arrived at the command post as Alex was reviewing a sketch of the street with the zone officer. “Lieutenant, I didn’t realize you’d be here.” His clipped tone made it clear her presence was neither necessary nor welcome.
“You didn’t realize we’d have a hostage situation, either.”
Barnes hitched up his utility belt. “I checked on the way over and the Special Response Team is out on another situation. It could take two hours to get back. We need viable intel ASAP, and Morgan’s in a perfect position to serve as forward point.”
A tinge of something unfamiliar sneaked into Alex’s usually flawless, operational mind. “Do I detect some reservation about sending her in?” She wasn’t sure if she was asking herself or Barnes.
Barnes’s lips tightened as he offered the explanation. “Morgan always volunteers for these types of assignments. She can get emotional. I don’t think she’ll act unless she has to, though.”
Alex questioned his motives. Would he make that comment about a male officer? “What kind of assignments?” Prickling hairs on the back of her neck indicated she knew the answer.
“Anything dangerous. If you ask me, she’s got something to prove.”
“It’s your call, Sergeant.” It galled Alex to give him control of the situation. “I’d suggest you make sure she understands not to engage the subject unless directed to do so. If he’s on meth he’ll be extremely volatile. Also, get some officers on the other corners of the house and a backup for her. If this guy bolts we need to be on his tail.”
