by Jules Court
Once she was out of earshot, Brian asked, “What do you think, Danny?”
“How’d the lawyer show up so fast? I thought we’d get a crack at Sara Murphy before we had to deal with a suit.”
The warmth spreading across his face must have told Danny everything.
“Damn it, Brian,” Danny said. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you?
“I would have never found her without Priya,” he said.
Danny waved his hand in a clear “spare me the excuses” motion. “What’s your gut say? If we hold Sara Murphy, will she spill?”
Holding her meant charging her with murder. They had the minimum needed to meet probable cause with the hair and cigarette they’d found at the crime scene and witness statement placing her at the bar. Charging her would accomplish two things: prevent her from fleeing town and give them the leverage to pry information from her.
It would also make him a liar. He’d promised Priya that all he wanted to do was protect her cousin. Priya wouldn’t forgive him. He had a feeling she was a champ at holding grudges. She was certainly stubborn enough.
He sighed. “She’ll talk. Even with the lawyer. We just need to scare her more than they do,” he said. The words tasted like ash in his mouth. “Let’s book her.” He pushed Priya’s face from his thoughts.
* * *
Priya couldn’t get past the desk sergeant. He cut her off mid-sentence. “You’re not her lawyer. You’re not getting back there,” he said. “Now have a seat unless you feel like sharing a cell.” He pointed at the long wooden bench before looking back down at his paperwork, completely dismissing her presence.
Priya turned away with her fists clenched. Her heart pounded a furious beat that sounded a lot like “this is all your fault.”
A touch on her shoulder made her jump. She whirled around. “Oh, it’s you, Erin.” She let her breath out. “You got here so fast. Thanks for coming.”
She’d called Erin, who’d picked up on the second ring, on her way over to the station. Like Priya, she probably slept with her cell phone under her pillow. An occupational hazard for both doctors and lawyers, it seemed.
“Don’t worry,” Erin said. “This is total bullshit. She’ll be out by the morning.”
“What about getting her out now?”
“They’re charging her, so her arraignment will be tomorrow morning.”
“Charging her?” But Brian had said they just wanted to talk to Sara.
Erin put a comforting hand on her arm, giving her a little pat. “Don’t worry,” she said. “They’re fishing. It’s what cops do. They’re just trying to scare her.”
How could Brian do this? He’d held Priya in his arms and told her everything was going to be okay. And she’d led him straight to Sara. Who he’d put in handcuffs.
All your fault, all your fault, her heart beat out.
“Priya?”
“I’m fine,” she said automatically. She breathed out slowly.
Erin’s blue eyes held concern, but she didn’t challenge Priya’s assertion. “You should go home and get some sleep,” she said gently. “There isn’t anything you can do here.”
And it wasn’t like Sara would want to see her anyway. She probably thought Priya sold her out. Hadn’t she? She’d let herself be distracted by a clever tongue and a set of rock-hard abs, when she should have been thinking only about Sara.
She looked up at the clock on the wall just as the big hand clicked by the three. Four-fifteen in the morning. “I have to go to work anyway,” she told Erin.
Erin wrinkled her forehead. “Is that a good idea?”
“Maybe not, but it’s what I do.” It was what she was. All she was. “What time is the arraignment?”
“The judge calls the docket at 8:30, but depending on how many cases are on it, it could be a while. I can call you and tell you how it goes. It’s going to be fine,” Erin said again. But Priya didn’t believe it any more the second time. “Maybe this week,” she added, “we can finally get together for a drink? Catch up? Spend time together that has nothing to do with your cousin?”
Priya simply nodded.
Erin gave her one more look of concern and a squeeze on the shoulder before picking her briefcase back up and departing to find her client.
Priya sank down onto the wooden bench and rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Just stand up. Keep moving,” she muttered to herself.
“Around here, that’s an easy way to get yourself locked up, mumbling to yourself.”
His voice shouldn’t slide over her body like silk. “Go fu—”
Brian grabbed her arm. “Don’t finish that thought,” he said.
“Don’t touch me!” She sounded more than a little unhinged. Treatment: 5 mg diazepam for acute anxiety.
The desk sergeant looked up. He drew his eyebrows together. “Problem?” he asked Brian.
“It’s cool,” he said.
It so wasn’t cool. A harsh bark of laughter erupted from her throat. Make that 10 mg of diazepam she’d prescribe herself if she presented in the ER in her current state.
Somehow, she didn’t know how, she found herself on her feet, being steered past the front desk. Brian’s hand was gentle on her arm as he guided her toward an empty conference room. Once inside, he shut the door with a decisive click behind them.
He’d been steering her from that first moment in the bar when she’d looked up from her book into those green eyes. She’d been so pitifully easy. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“What did you think I was going to do when we found her? I told you I needed to bring her in. What was I supposed to do?” His voice was so calm, so reasonable.
It lit the fuse on her temper. “Not treat her like a criminal.”
“She fled a crime scene.”
“Why are you doing this? You know she’s not responsible.”
“I’m doing my job.” He ran his hands through his short hair.
“Your job sucks.” It wasn’t the most mature comeback and she didn’t care.
“My job means keeping the people of this city safe.” He took a step closer.
They were standing practically nose-to-nose. She craned her neck up to meet his eyes. “From the ER room, let me just say, you’re doing an awesome job,” she snapped. “We never get people who’ve been shot or stabbed or killed. You’re protecting them all right.” It was a low, not particularly clever blow, but she only wanted to lash out at him. Make him hurt a little.
“Your cousin is up to her giant earrings in a gang war. This isn’t about her,” he fired back. His voice softened before he added, “Or you and me.”
“What makes you think there’s a ‘you and me’? You made me come. My vibrator can do that.” It had only been sex, a basic human biological need. But still, a sudden rush of desire ripped through her body. She tightened her thighs in an attempt to keep from rubbing them together.
“A vibrator never made you feel like I did.” His eyes caressed her body.
Her nipples tightened under the flimsy fabric of her dress. Damn him. He wouldn’t have power over her.
She leaned forward, letting her breasts touch his chest. “It wasn’t just you doing the work and me lying perfectly still.” His eyes fixated on her lips. She went up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “I don’t need you to get off.” She stepped back and smiled.
“Then tell me this means nothing.” He pulled her into his arms and against his stiffening cock.
It was a move meant to establish his dominance. That wasn’t happening. She put her hand on his fly, tracing the bulge beneath it.
“In about two seconds, I’m going to bend you over this table,” he said.
A knock sounded on the door. “Hey, Mac, you in there?”
Bria
n jumped back from her. “Be right there, Danny,” he said. “Shit. What the fuck am I doing?”
His words were ice water tossed in her face. “Your hand,” she snapped in response. “Because this isn’t happening again.”
“My gut is saying there’s something more here between us,”
“I don’t make decisions based on body parts,” she said. “Not anymore.”
“No, you just push everyone away.”
“Don’t act like you know me.”
“Don’t I? If I didn’t need to do my job, I’d show you how wrong you are.” He strode from the room.
She sagged against the table. She was so messed up.
Chapter Thirteen
Brian stepped into the interview room where Sara and her lawyer sat at one side of the table. He reached up to straighten his tie, but let his hand drop when he belatedly realized he wasn’t wearing one. Just a rumpled T-shirt he’d picked up off the floor where Priya had thrown it.
Danny leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He gave Brian a raised eyebrow.
Brian pulled a chair on the opposite side from where Sara and Erin sat away from the table. He winced at the sound of the metal chair scraping the floor. Pull it together, MacGregor.
“I’d like to hear the evidence on which you’ve arrested my client,” Erin said.
But before he or Danny could answer, Sara leaned forward. “I’ll tell you what you want to know on one condition,” she said.
Erin put her hand on Sara’s forearm. “I advise you not to say anything.”
Sara ignored her. “What’s going on with you and my cousin?” she asked.
Erin pounced on the question. “Do you have a relationship with Ms. Murphy’s cousin, Detective MacGregor?”
“Were you just using her to get to me?” Sara asked.
“Mac,” Danny said. He jerked his head toward the door. “Outside,” he said.
“This isn’t about Priya,” he said.
“Mac.” Danny’s voice held an unmistakable shut-the-hell-up.
“You better be ready to do some serious groveling,” Sara said. “Priya isn’t the trusting type.”
“Excuse us,” Danny said, slapping his hand on Brian’s shoulder. He let Danny steer him outside and into an empty conference room. “What the fuck, Mac? How exactly did you find Sara Murphy?”
“She contacted Priya. I tailed Priya to the diner where they met.”
“And how did you know she contacted Priya?”
“I was there. Priya was in my bed at the time.”
Danny shook his head. “You really are an asshole.”
“It wasn’t like that,” he protested.
“That could be even worse.” Danny sank down into one of the chairs.
“I’m sorry you got stuck with me as a partner. I understand if you want to ask for a change.”
“I’m only riding you because you’re a good cop and a good man. Underneath the jokes and the swagger, you care about the people of this city and you want to protect them. You’re a good cop, but you’ve got the potential to be a great one and I don’t want you to throw it away.”
“You like me.”
Danny snorted.
Brian threw his arms wide. “Wanna hug it out?”
“How about I buy you a beer when this is all over instead?”
A knock sounded on the door. Erin Rafferty walked in. “Gentleman, if I could interrupt your little marital dispute for a moment, I may have something you’d be interested in.”
“Give us a second,” Danny told her. When she left, he said, “Are we cool?”
Danny was right. Brian had been selfish and shortsighted, and pissed off both the woman he wanted so badly and the partner he should have been supporting.
“We can be,” he said. He needed to go back in there and fix his mess.
When they stepped back into the interview room, they both had their game faces back on.
Erin launched straight into her offer without preamble. “My client is willing to testify to witnessing the murder of Jack O’Donnell with conditions,” she said.
Sara remained silent, a defense attorney’s dream client.
“Name them,” Danny said.
“Immunity.”
That was standard. The DA’s office shouldn’t have a problem. “Done,” Danny answered.
Erin held up one finger. Her pink nail polish was chipped. “And protection,” she added. “If Ms. Murphy takes the stand, she’s painting a target on herself. These are dangerous men. Protective custody until the trial.”
It wasn’t unheard of. And it would give Priya peace of mind. “You got it,” Brian said.
“We’ll have to run that one by the higher ups,” Danny said.
Erin nodded before switching off the recorder.
“What are you doing?” Brian asked.
“I don’t think you want this part on the record,” she said.
Sara leaned forward, breaking her stillness. She drilled him with a piercing look. “Honestly,” she said. “Did you really like Priya or were you just using her? You have to tell the truth. I’ll know. I’ve known a lot of liars and most of them were cops.”
He wrestled with the question. But Sara looked at him and something about the shape of her eyes, the tilt of her head...he saw Priya. “Both,” he said.
She smiled. “Good answer. Are you going to keep seeing her?”
“I don’t think that’s an option.” Priya probably hated him.
“She needs someone. She works herself into the ground and uses it as an excuse to be alone. Her career means a lot to her, but it shouldn’t be everything. Underneath it all, she’s lonely. Something tells me, you might be, too.”
Her words hit a bit too close. He didn’t look at Danny. He didn’t want to see if he was snickering at the idea of a lonely Brian. He wasn’t some sort of pathetic sad sack who couldn’t get a girl.
He reached over and switched the recorder back on. “So, what do you have to tell us about the murder of Jack O’Donnell?”
* * *
Back at Priya’s overheated apartment, a cold shower and a change of clothes didn’t improve anything. She wiped the condensation off her bathroom mirror. What she saw made her reach for the concealer. Nobody wanted a doctor who looked like she’d been punched in the eyes.
She only made one stop on the way to the hospital—Dunkin’s for a large iced coffee and a honey-glazed. So much for eating healthy.
At the hospital, she’d just stepped out of the locker room after changing into her scrubs and white coat when the chief resident cornered her.
“Shah,” he said. “Glad you decided to show up.”
She prepped herself for his usual comments on the general competency and work ethic of the residents in general. It usually segued into “hilarious” jokes about how she should just get married and pop out a few kids instead of practicing emergency medicine. Her jaw clenched. This bushy-eyebrowed misogynist did not want to fuck with her today.
But instead of harassing her, he said, “We’ve got a car accident coming in. Multiple patients. “ He waved her toward the emergency bay. “Nothing like a little Monday morning road rage.” He practically rubbed his hands in glee.
She sprinted down the corridor, lab coat flapping, with a sense of relief at being needed, which probably made her as terrible as the chief resident. People were hurt, but when her brain switched into emergency mode, all thoughts of Brian, Sara, her parents, and the tangle of guilt and desire all disappeared.
There was no room for her personal problems as she paced a gurney into the ER as a paramedic rattled off vitals. Her world narrowed until it became simply the middle-aged white male on the bed, moaning in pain.
“Mr. Anderso
n,” she said. “My name is Dr. Shah. We’re going to take good care of you.”
And he was just the first. It was several hours later before she was able to take a break. Her first action had been to call her parents, but they weren’t picking up. Probably didn’t want to talk to her. She left a message anyway. In the kitchenette, she poured herself some of the black tar masquerading as coffee. Her hand trembled and she splashed a bit over the rim of her cup. The aftereffects of adrenaline mixed with a bone-deep fatigue. She was upending the sugar bowl in an attempt to make the sludge in her coffee cup drinkable when Elizabeth, one of the nurses, entered.
Elizabeth sighed and reached for the coffeepot. “I’m trying to decide between an umbrella drink served to me by my very own cabana boy at a private beach, or sangria while sitting at an outside café in Barcelona,” she said.
Priya slumped against the counter. “Vacation?” she asked.
Elizabeth snorted and shook her head. “I wish. Daydreams,” she said. “Have you ever just wanted to run away? I’d never abandon Meghan, but after the teenage hormonal meltdown she threw last night, it’s so tempting.”
Although Elizabeth was only in her mid-twenties, she had sole custody of her younger sister. She’d mentioned dropping out of college to take care of her young sister six years ago when her parents were killed in a car accident. She’d attended nursing school at night while raising Meghan.
“What caused it?” Priya asked.
“The usual. I’m an uncool bitch who is not the boss of her and definitely not her mother, all because I won’t let her spend the night at her boyfriend’s house.” She stamped her foot. “It’s so unfair. I’m seventeen already,” she said in an imitation of a pouty teenager.
“I’m sorry.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Just one more year. Who am I kidding? I’m going to have empty nest syndrome before I’m thirty. What about you? Ever feel like running away?”
