“I’ll follow you over,” Joe said. He could call the captain on the way and report in. Call Wendy too, and check on her.
The phone rang. Leila picked it up. Her eyebrows snapped together as she listened. “You tell him he better not leave the house. He’s grounded.” She set the phone down pretty firmly.
When she used that tone, it usually had to do with one of her boys. She was a widow with three teenage sons.
“Anything I can help with?” Joe offered.
“Put my kids in lockup till they grow a brain?” She gave a growl that would have done a cougar proud. She wasn’t the type to sigh. “Zak has his first girlfriend. Tad decided it’s a good idea to sneak smokes behind my back. Bobby wants to drop out of sports.”
That last one seemed like the worst problem to Joe. “He can’t quit. He’s good at football. I saw him play.”
Leila shook her head. “Even with the part-time help here, I’m still not home with them enough. And when I’m home, I’m either cooking or cleaning, and they have their heads in their cell phones and the Internet.”
“I could take them to a game in Philly.”
Her face softened. “You’re a good man, Joe,” she said after a moment. “They’d love that. With all your pictures and trophies in the glass cabinets at the high school, they think you’re da man.”
“I try not to brag about it,” he said modestly.
“For some reason, they think you’re not lame like the rest of us adults. Apparently, I don’t know anything anymore. I’m out of touch and all that.” She shook her head, a nostalgic look coming into her eyes. “They were such sweet little boys. What happened?” Then she answered her own questions. “Testosterone tornado. And I’m in my own hormone hurricane.”
Joe cleared his throat, and before Leila could move on to something to do with menopause, he quickly said, “It’s tough to be a single mother.”
“Being a mother is a full-time job. Being the mother of more than one is like juggling chain saws.”
If anyone he knew could actually juggle chain saws, it’d be Leila, Joe thought as he nodded. Then he thought of Wendy, because he wasn’t able to go five minutes these days without thinking of her. Wendy would soon be a mother of two. With a violent ex, who was possibly out to have her killed.
The second he had his list from the jail in Wilmington, the names of the men Keith Kline had interacted with after his arrest, he was going to set everything else aside and jump on that. Since at the moment he couldn’t help Wendy, he might as well help Leila with whatever small thing he could do for her kids.
“I’ll get tickets for the next game. You tell the boys.” He knew them pretty well. They came for the Broslin PD fund-raiser cookouts, and occasionally they stopped by to see their mother during her shift when they needed something.
Harper came up. “Ready?”
As they walked out, Joe pulled his cell phone to call the captain, but the phone rang before he could dial.
“Courtesy call. Cop to cop,” Officer Conti, one of the cops who’d processed Wendy’s apartment after the break-in, said. “Keith Kline was released on bail.”
Joe thanked him and hung up, turned to Harper, who was waiting for him. “Can’t go to the hospital right now. Something else came up.” Shit. He needed to get active in the homicide investigation. He owed that to Phil and Marie, but he needed to tell Wendy about Keith in person. “I have to run off on another case.”
“No problem.” Harper nodded. “I’ll let you know if I find anything. Might all turn out to be a giant waste of time anyway. Running down a thousand bad leads before we get the one that takes us somewhere.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Joe hurried to his Camaro, his mind on Wendy and her son as he called the captain and filled him in on both the planned gang hit and Keith Kline.
“I appreciate the update. I’ll pass on the intel to Chief Gleason.”
“I’m going back in tomorrow night.” The undercover gig was his. He wanted to see it to the end.
“Are you sure?”
“All I know is that Ramos is going to hit J.T.’s crew at three locations. I don’t know where. If I can get that and pass it on, the chief can have SWAT teams waiting. Catch everyone with the guns. Intent to commit murder, gang activity, illegal weapons charges, probably some drug charges.” Since some of the guys would be fortifying themselves. Paco for sure. He never went into a job sober.
“I’m sure Chief Gleason will appreciate that. You be careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll make sure there’ll be someone at your house to keep an eye on Wendy and the boy while you’re gone.”
“Thank you, sir.” He’d been about to ask for that.
Deathblow: Chapter Thirteen
Wendy cleaned away the remains of Justin’s post-nap snack, hunting down all the rolled-away oat loops, trying to keep Joe’s house as neat as possible. She could still barely believe that they were here.
She didn’t want to be living with Joe. She’d worked incredibly hard to escape Keith’s lair. She’d let Justin cry at night. Then she’d begun by saying she would stay with a friend for the weekend. Then for the week. She’d said and done everything just right. She’d escaped the penthouse.
Or she’d thought she had. But there’d been no escaping Keith.
Coming to live under Joe’s roof certainly wasn’t the path to independence. She didn’t like the idea of bouncing from man to man.
Broslin’s favorite son had a simple home on a quiet street, nothing like Keith’s bachelor pad in the city. The eighties colonial had been converted to open floor plan, the kitchen and dining room combined into a huge eat-in kitchen with cherry cabinets and gleaming black granite countertops. The family room and living room had been opened together to create one large space, with a floor-to-ceiling fireplace, a large-screen TV, and comfortable, masculine furniture.
The upstairs bedrooms had been updated too. Two of them had been made into one spacious master suite, the bathroom with an oversize shower that had more showerheads than she’d know what to do with, and a large tub with jets she was developing some serious daydreams about.
The remaining bedroom was set up as an office, but it did have a pull-out couch. She could sleep there with Justin, she decided.
Everything was low-key, homey, and welcoming. Joe had evidently put thought into the design, renovated the house for himself, not for bragging rights. Her first impression of him had been that he was a jock, but the house showed a different side of him. She’d expected a party palace. Instead, he lived in the kind of home that she as a single mom has been dreaming about, and that surprised her.
But what surprised her the most was the fancy cedar swing set, complete with a playhouse, in the backyard.
“Who’s the swing set for?” she asked Joe when he finally walked through the front door.
“My nephew, Max.” He glanced at Justin, playing in the hallway with Pirate Prince, the neighbor’s cat.
“Hi, Joe.” Justin looked up, but only for a second, lost in cat-petting bliss.
“Hey, kiddo. Want to feed Pirate Prince some treats?”
That put a big smile on her son’s face. “Yes!”
Joe walked to the kitchen and pulled a handful of treats from the corner cabinet. “There you go. You can lay them down in a line, and he’ll follow them. Sometimes that’s how I get him to go home for the night when I’m ready to go to bed.”
Justin grabbed the treats, dropping only a few. The rest he started lining up, one by one, a foot apart, toward the living room. He laughed with glee as Pirate Prince followed, eating each treat.
Wendy shifted on her feet. “I hope you don’t mind that I let the cat inside.”
“I let him in all the time. He’s big on the whole my-house-is-your-house thing.”
“As soon as I cracked the back door open, he shot right in.”
“He knows where the goodies are. Max is in love with him too. That cat gets pretty spoiled.”
/> “Max is your sister’s son?”
He nodded, looking distracted. “Same age as Justin. They might stop in tomorrow. I’m going to stick around the house for a while. I’ll have to go out tomorrow night, but there’ll be someone else here from the station.”
“Why? Did you find out who messed with my brakes?”
“Not yet.” He glanced at Justin, then stepped closer, lowered his voice. “Keith is out on bail.”
Her anxiety level spiked immediately. “He won’t find us here.”
“If he does, he won’t be able to get anywhere near you.”
As she looked at Joe’s face, she could tell he meant it. He was going to protect her.
She’d thought that about Keith at first. She couldn’t let herself fall into that fantasy again. She needed to learn to protect herself.
She had made mistakes in the past, and she couldn’t afford another. It wasn’t only her life at stake. She was responsible for two babies.
“When I told you we were having a baby, I didn’t mean it like I expect things from you because of that.”
An annoyed frown wrinkled his forehead. “You have every right to expect things from me.”
“I’m not asking for any kind of support.”
“Well, I’m not going to be a deadbeat dad.” He swore under his breath. “How could something like this even happen?” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Considering the precautions we took, a pregnancy doesn’t seem possible.”
“You’re welcome to come to my twelve-week checkup tomorrow. There’ll be an ultrasound.”
“I do believe that you’re pregnant. I’m sorry about before. You’re not a liar.”
“Thank you. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me, but it feels really nice that you do.”
“I’m having a hard time dealing with the baby, because I haven’t even dealt with the other stuff yet.”
“What other stuff?”
His eyes filled with heat. “I want you. I want you all the time. I lost all interest in other women.” He reached out and took her hands, then pulled her to him slowly. And then he pressed his lips to hers.
Electricity zinged through her instantly, longing mixed with desire. For a moment, her brain short-circuited and she let herself sink into the kiss. He was so incredibly gentle. He didn’t rush, didn’t pressure her. He was just showing her what could be, and the glimpse of that took her breath away.
She was falling, falling. But softly, like a feather.
He made her feel.
So incredibly unfair.
She pulled back, even if every cell of her protested. “We can’t do this.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re having a baby. I don’t want to complicate things.”
“We have six more months to figure the baby thing out,” he said. “Why don’t we figure out all this other stuff in the meantime?”
Because the other stuff was scary. Joe was somehow bigger than life. She didn’t want to lose herself to him. She’d lost herself to Keith, and she hadn’t even recovered from that yet. “Don’t you have someplace to be? A night shift or something?”
“You better get used to having me around.” He gave a half smile. “You can’t kick me out.”
Right. They were at his place. That kiss had fogged up her mind. She cringed. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. Gave a rueful smile. “Okay. To clear the air, I don’t know how I feel about a baby. I had a bad experience with an ex. So it’s probably a hang-up with me, which is stupid, because you’re nothing like her. I’m going to work through that, because this is not fair to you. And….” His gaze dropped to her lips.
She pressed them together. “And?”
He glanced at Justin, who was busy with the cat in the living room, then back at her. He lowered his voice as he said, “I want to kiss you. I want to keep kissing you. I want you upstairs, in my bed, naked, with your mysterious gray eyes rolled back in your head with pleasure. That part I’m pretty clear about. Except, I’m also supposed to protect you, which complicates things. Although probably not enough to hold me back.”
The air stuck in her lungs as heat flooded her, every nerve ending in her body springing alive from the picture he’d painted.
He ran his long fingers up her arm. “If this isn’t what you want, you have to tell me. Your choice.”
Good grief, her brain was so scrambled she could barely remember her own name. “Can I think about this?”
“Is it going to take long?”
“Jeez, no pressure.”
His chiseled lips stretched into a slow smile. “Take all the time you need.” He kissed her again.
Swear to God, if he had a comic-book hero name, it would have been Wonder Lips. He could disarm her just by dragging his mouth across hers. By the time he swept inside to fully taste her, her brain was melting.
She had to stop letting him kiss her like this.
She was supposed to gain control of her life. But control was a fantasy word around Joe. In the end, she wasn’t the one to stop the kiss, but Justin, yelling, “I’m hungry!” from the living room.
They pulled apart. She took a quick step back, pressing her lips together.
Joe flashed her a heated smile, then picked up the cordless. “What would you and Justin like, pizza or Chinese?”
“Justin likes pizza.”
He ordered, then set the phone back into its cradle. “I’ll wash up before dinner.”
“I’ll set the table,” she offered.
“Out of curiosity,” he said a few minutes later, coming from the laundry room, “do you know if Keith owns a weapon?”
“Yes. That’s why I got mine.”
“You have a weapon? Where is it now?”
She nodded toward the top of his fridge. She’d brought the cookie tin with her from her apartment.
Joe strode over, grabbed the tin, and looked inside. “Loaded?”
She nodded. “The safety is on, and I put it out of reach. I should have told you. You left before I thought of it.”
“It’s not a problem. You know how to use it?” He put the tin back.
“I took classes.” She’d snuck classes. Made sure Keith wouldn’t find out about them. “I can hit my target.” She filled her lungs. “You probably think I’m stupid, having a gun and still letting Keith hurt me.”
“Discharging a firearm is not to be taken lightly. Once you pull the trigger, you can never take it back, or what happens after that. Most cops never discharge their service weapons during their entire careers, other than for target practice. You do everything you can to avoid having to reach that point.”
He glanced toward the cookie tin, then back at her. “If you had no other choice, could you pull the trigger?”
She nodded without hesitation. “I don’t want to. But if I have to, I can do it.”
“Good.”
He surprised her. She’d expected a lecture, to have to defend having a gun in the first place. But Joe was not Keith. He kept proving that over and over again. She hoped one of these days she would be able to believe it, accept it on a visceral level, on the level where her fears currently lived.
The doorbell rang as pizza delivery arrived. Joe went to get it, brought the red-and-white box in.
“Pizza, pizza!” Justin ran out to the kitchen, Pirate Prince all but forgotten.
Joe went to let the cat out. By the time he came back, Wendy had gotten everyone glasses from the cupboard.
Joe chatted with Justin while they ate, the two laughing easily together. Their quick connection, the warmth and the joy of the scene scared the living daylights out of her.
Here was everything she never dared to admit that she wanted.
Now what?
She was living with Joe. Keith was out of jail. Somebody wanted her dead.
And all she could think about was kissing Joe again.
When she’d decided to take charge of her life, she’d envisioned peace and securit
y. She clenched her teeth. She would have those things. She would never give Keith control again. But Joe….
What was she willing to give him?
* * *
Joe slept poorly.
He kept thinking about Wendy, in his house, just down the hall. He’d wanted her to take the master bedroom with Justin, but she insisted on the guest bedroom with the pullout couch. And because he knew making her own decisions was important to her, he didn’t push.
He woke early, shaved, checked his e-mail, caught up with some old friends on the Internet. Wendy started moving around upstairs around eight, running water in the bathroom.
He was looking forward to seeing her at breakfast, but he needed to do one more thing first. The first shift would be in by now. He dialed Harper.
“Found anything interesting at the hospital yesterday?”
“The hospital only provided the room for the anger management group. Brogevich led it as a volunteer service. He didn’t have patient records on the people, because they weren’t really patients. It was a support group, people coming and going.”
Joe thought for a moment. “How about a log-in sheet for the group sessions? Wouldn’t the people have to sign in with security?”
“Technically. Except all the sign-up sheets are dumped into giant file boxes that are discarded after a couple of months. And even the records they do have are little more than scribbles. I had a cursory look. Couldn’t make out half those signatures.”
Joe rubbed his thumb over his eyebrow. “Does the warrant extend to the sign-up sheets?”
“It does now,” Harper said. “I had it amended. I’ll take the boxes home and go through a couple tonight, get a magnifying glass. Can’t do work like that at the office. There’s a call coming in every five minutes. I was in and out all day yesterday. Had a runaway teen we found hiding in the garage. But I spent most of the day mediating between neighbors who like to set dog shit on fire on each other’s porches. Maybe it’s the full moon.”
“Either that or spring fever,” Joe told him. “I’m on protection detail for the next couple of days. If you can drop the boxes off at my place, I’ll go through them.”
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