Betrayals Stand (MidKnight Blue Book 5)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “You’ve never said anything.”

  “What was the point?” She shrugged. “Were you going to stop doing police work if I told you I was worried about you?”

  “No. I would have told you that you had nothing to worry about.”

  “And you would have been full of shit,” Randy retorted. “Not including the time you were shot in the back, or the time you were shot in the shoulder—by the same gang, I might add—but there were plenty of other times when your expected life span looked short, and you think I had nothing to worry about?”

  Joe blinked at her small tirade, but he was smiling the whole time, because he knew she was right. “You win. I’m a real risk taker, and you should take out a bigger life insurance policy on me.”

  “I’d rather just keep you around, if you don’t mind.”

  Joe pulled her body flush with his, looking down into her eyes. “Make love to me again, and we’ll discuss it.”

  “You got it, Sergeant.”

  They ended up making love half the night, joking back and forth and even making a 3:00 a.m. trip to the refrigerator for a snack, after which they made love again. Six o’clock came very early, but Randy had to be at the shooting range that day. Fortunately it was closer than the college, but she still had to get up. Joe’s arm was wrapped tightly around her waist. Randy lay on her back, and Joe on his side. She reached over, shutting off the alarm tiredly. She turned her head, looking up at her husband. Watching him sleep now reminded her of all the times she’d done so before, thinking that he looked so relaxed and calm. She thought of their lovemaking and felt her body respond to the memory. Without hesitating Randy moved closer to him, touching her lips to his neck as she stroked his stomach and reached up with her other hand to brush his hair back from his cheek. Joe moved around a little but didn’t wake up. They’d only had about two hours of sleep; he was exhausted. Randy felt guilty for disturbing him, but she couldn’t resist the desire to do so. She brushed her lips along his neck and down to his chest. When she moved back up to his lips, she saw that his eyes were open and he was watching her intently.

  “Good morning,” she said, kissing him sensually. Joe responded immediately.

  They ended up rushing around the house an hour later, trying to make it to the range on time. Jessica watched them. She could tell something had changed between them and suspected correctly what that something was. She had been up for an hour, and she’d heard them moving around in the other room, but she had made a point of not listening any closer. Seeing them now, she could tell they hadn’t gotten much sleep, but they both looked very happy and kept exchanging private looks. Jessica was happy for them. She had long since admitted to herself that she’d have been happy to be exchanging looks like that with Joseph Michael Sinclair, but she had also come around to the reality that there was only one woman in the world he looked at like that, and she was his wife. Jessica, being the type of person she was, decided that she was happy enough knowing someone like Joe, and knowing that she could count on him as a friend. Joe was like one of those movie stars you adored and watched everything they did with fascination, but you didn’t like them any less just because they were in love with their wives. You could still have fantasies about them. Jessica knew Joe would die if he knew she was likening him to a movie star, but that was part of his charm—the fact that he didn’t know how gorgeous he was.

  “You ready?” Joe asked her, his voice bringing her out of her reflections.

  “I’ve been ready a while, Sinclair,” Jessica responded easily, her grin wide. Joe looked almost embarrassed as he realized her powers of deductive reasoning had once again put her one up on him. He smiled broadly.

  “What?” Randy said, coming into the room. She put on her watch as she looked between the two of them.

  “Oh, nothin’,” Joe said, still grinning at Jessica. “Detective Harland was just indicating her readiness to leave.”

  “Okay…” Randy said, shaking her head and smiling, not sure what Joe was trying to tell her but aware that he and Jessica were sharing a private joke. Then she looked over at her husband. “I’m ready if you are.”

  “I know that,” Joe said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Randy gave him an impish look of her own.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Joe dropped Randy off at Duffy Town, the sheriff’s miniature town utilized by trainees and officers to simulate realistic scenarios for their range shoots. “I’ll see you later,” he said, leaning across to kiss her.

  “Okay,” Randy said, and got out of the car. She flipped them a wave as Joe drove away.

  Randy was surprised when, two hours later, Joe, Jessica, and many of the members of FORS walked onto the range grounds. The class was doing a run-through of the course, and Randy was waiting for her turn. Joe meandered over to her and, standing behind her, leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “What are you and your gang doing here?”

  “Quarterly training.”

  “Nice of you to tell me.”

  “Slipped my mind,” Joe said, his husky voice indicating the reason for his negligence.

  “I see.”

  It was Randy’s turn. Joe watched as she made her run. He could see she was having a hard time holding on to her weapon, and then she cried out, the gun bouncing out of her grasp. Her hand came out to stop the gun from hitting the ground, and she cried out a second time as he started to move toward her. He knew the barrel had been white-hot, and she dropped it again involuntarily.

  Joe strode up to her. She looked up at him, holding her hand out. He could see the red mark from the barrel already forming on her palm. He retrieved the weapon from the ground, depressing the magazine release and examining the bullets inside. The training sergeant and range master had walked over, and Joe looked up at the range master accusingly.

  “What the fuck is this?” he said, his anger overriding any desire to avoid interfering with the academy training. He held the magazine out to the training sergeant, who took it and shook his head, indicating he didn’t know what Joe was referring to. “This load’s too fucking hot to run through a Ruger.”

  The range master, Sergeant Chuck Smith, took the magazine from the training sergeant, looking it over himself. Randy stood by watching, feeling ashamed that she hadn’t been able to handle the weapon.

  Smith examined the bullets loaded into the ammunition clip. He was surprised, but he disagreed with Joe’s assessment. “It’s not too hot—it just causes a heavy recoil.”

  “That’s plus P plus, a hundred and fifteen grain, if I’m not mistaken,” Joe said, his voice even but his eyes narrowed. “And yeah, it’ll go through okay, but it’ll beat the shit out of the shooter. These are rookies, you idiot. Half of ’em never handled a gun till today.” Joe shook his head disdainfully.

  “Well, I agree with you there. This ammo shouldn’t have been used—one of my people must have made a mistake. I’ll check into it.” He looked over at Randy. “Are you okay, cadet?”

  Randy nodded solemnly. “I think my pride’s had more damage done than anything else.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Sergeant Smith said. “I don’t know many cadets that could have held on to that gun as long as you did. Good job.” He patted her on the shoulder and turned to walk back toward his offices, the gun in hand.

  Randy and Joe walked back over to where the rest of the candidates stood. “I didn’t understand all of that,” Randy said candidly.

  Joe glanced down at her. “The thing is, the ammunition that was in that gun was too heavy for the weapon. It was too strong, and you, being pretty new at this, weren’t ready for it just yet. It’s not a good training round at all—somebody fucked up.” Joe shook his head, his eyes softening as he noticed that she was embarrassed. “Hey, the range master’s right. You did real good, considering that load. I’m surprised you not only held on to the gun but managed a couple of pretty fair shots too.”

  Randy brightened. “Really?” She looked
back at the targets and saw that while they weren’t excellent shots, they were fair. She grinned. “Must be sleeping with an expert that does it.”

  “Ya think?” Joe said, grinning back. Randy nodded. The training sergeant announced that the cadets could take a break while Joe’s group did their run-throughs.

  Randy watched, fascinated, as the members of FORS moved through the course. They would kneel, crouch, and even lie down to get the best angle on the realistic targets. The class clapped as the last of them finished.

  Joe ran Jessica through, staying with her the entire time, talking her through each move, telling her when to get lower or when to stand straight. He helped her realign a couple of her shots, so that she hit the target closer to center mass a few times. At the end, Jessica looked up at him and smiled triumphantly, even spontaneously hugging him. Joe grinned at her, congratulating her on her progress. “You’re shooting better now,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. “You’ve been practicing.”

  Jessica shrugged. “Gary’s tried to help me out, but he doesn’t have your street savvy just yet, ya know?”

  “Okay.” Joe steered her back over to the group. “Thanks,” he said to the training sergeant. “We’ve been in need of qualifications for months, we just haven’t had the time.”

  “You got it.” Sergeant Jones nodded. “But I noted that you didn’t do your run-through, Sinclair.” The tone in his voice was challenging as he smirked. This was an old game between them; Joe and he had actually attended training together, when Joe had come over from the sheriff’s department and was doing some updating and Jones was going through the academy. They’d both been pretty good shots, and who was better had been a joke between them.

  Joe nodded toward the course. “You first.”

  Jones pulled out his sidearm, pulling back the slide and standing at the ready. He nodded to the operator of the course and made his way through. He missed very few targets, and the class, including Randy, cheered as he finished. The members of FORS stood by, looking very much like a gang, most of them with their arms crossed in front of them. They looked to Joe, and he grinned at them. Pulling out his weapon, Joe depressed the magazine release and checked it out, making sure it was fully loaded. He put the slide back in and held the weapon at the ready. He nodded toward the operator and began his run. Joe moved as if he were serving a search warrant, his motions quick and accurate, his shots dead on. It became very apparent to the class that Joe had come by his reputation of being deadly with a gun honestly. When he finished, he had a perfect score. He’d hit every target perfect center mass and had not shot any of the innocent civilians that were interspersed throughout them.

  Randy had yet another new appreciation for her husband’s abilities as the class cheered but were outdone by the whoops and hollers from FORS. Joe grinned abashed at the attention, but his expression was victorious as he faced Jones.

  Jones shook his head ruefully. “You win.”

  “I know,” Joe said, his grin lopsided.

  An hour later, Joe, Randy, and Jessica were in the car, going to lunch. Joe touched Randy’s hand lightly, looking over with concern in his eyes. “Is your hand okay?”

  “It’s fine, Joe. Really.”

  Joe looked at her for a long moment, and then shook his head, and she knew he wasn’t indicating his concern.

  “Oh, shut up!” she said, laughing. “It was a reaction, okay?”

  “Some reaction,” Joe said, his voice holding humor as he rolled his eyes. Jessica started to laugh.

  “What should I have done?” Randy asked hotly, but her eyes reflected her embarrassment.

  “You should’ve let the damned thing fall,” Joe replied, grinning.

  “It’s a six-hundred-dollar weapon!”

  “Yeah, and your hands are irreplaceable.”

  “I’m not gonna live this one down, am I?”

  Joe shook his head. “Probably not.”

  Randy smiled over at him. She was glad he wasn’t overreacting to her slight injury—she had the distinct impression that a couple of months ago things would have been far different.

  They rode along in silence for a while. The radio was on, and Randy heard a song she liked. She reached over and turned it up—Paula Cole’s “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” She started to sing along, and Jessica joined her on the chorus.

  The song addressed the declining attitudes and roles of men in American family life. It traced the decline of a marriage and how the husband didn’t seem to care, how he didn’t keep up his end of the relationship. She sang about being the woman and wanting her man to be just that, the man. One of the lines was, “I am wearing my new dress tonight, but you don’t even notice me.” It was true of many marriages in today’s society. Randy sang the words with such zest that Joe glanced over at her when the song ended.

  “Are you trying to tell me something?” he asked, his lips twisting in a sardonic grin.

  “Hardly,” Randy replied. “You are the perfect antonym to that song.”

  “I am, huh?” Joe said disbelievingly.

  Randy turned to look at Jessica. “Don’t you think so?”

  “Most assuredly.”

  Randy looked back at Joe. “If I wear a little more makeup, a different perfume, part my hair on the other side, anything, you notice. And you say something.”

  “I was brought up that way.”

  “I know that, and it’s wonderful.” Randy smiled at him warmly. “But it’s not the norm anymore.”

  “You want me to change?” Joe asked, smiling at her.

  “No!” Randy and Jessica said together, and then started to laugh.

  “Don’t do that!” Joe said, glancing at Jessica in the rearview mirror and then over at Randy, shivering dramatically. “It’s scary.”

  “Sounding off in stereo, you mean?” Randy said.

  “You two haven’t known each other long enough, okay?”

  “Uh-huh, we know,” Jessica said, nodding her head sarcastically.

  “And you’re ganging up on me,” Joe replied hotly.

  “You only wish we’d gang up on you,” Randy said, the look on her face sly, her eyes sparkling roguishly.

  Joe raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, don’t I wish.”

  Randy looked back at Jessica and both women laughed, as did Joe. Lunch proceeded comfortably after that.

  Joe dropped Randy off at the range again, and he and Jessica continued back to FORS. Jessica was very impressed when she walked into the unit’s offices. Joe led her to his room, nodding toward Midnight’s.

  “That’s Night’s office over there,” he said. Jessica nodded, and when they were in Joe’s office she looked around with interest. There were some awards and certificates, but most of the souvenirs Joe kept were things like switchblades he’d confiscated that the department didn’t care about, or a set of nunchucks that Spider had given him. He had posters from different agencies, even one from the Department of Justice that depicted three agents wearing black raid gear, including Kevlar helmets, and carrying MP5s. It read “Violence Suppression Unit”. He also had posters from a number of gun manufacturers, as well as body armor and ammunition companies. It was obvious that he was very serious about the profession he had chosen. Jessica felt that added just a little bit more depth to an already quite interesting person. She looked through the glass into Midnight’s office. She noted the Corvette posters as well as the die-cast metal sculpture of a classic red-and-white Corvette on her desk. The wall was covered with plaques and certificates. Jessica tried to read them but couldn’t from where she stood. When she turned to look at Joe, she saw that he was watching her, grinning.

  “Go on,” Joe said.

  “What?” she replied, wide-eyed.

  “I know you want to go over there and read all her shit—just go.” Joe was used to people’s reactions to Midnight’s achievements.

  Jessica shrugged and walked out of the office and over to Midnight’s. She came back fifteen
minutes later. She sat down in the chair in front of Joe’s desk and shook her head. “She’s accomplished a lot, hasn’t she?” She sounded awed.

  Joe inclined his head slightly. “That she has.” His words were casual, but the look on his face showed much more. He was very proud to be partners with someone as determined and successful as Midnight.

  “So have you,” Jessica said, her eyes on his.

  “Some.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jessica shook her head at his overly modest attitude.

  The rest of the day passed with Joe working on some of the ever-increasing paperwork he’d taken from Midnight’s desk. Jessica sat and looked over some of the cases they’d been working on. When she got to the old report file on the Scorpions case, she glanced up at Joe. She had just read the part about Joe being shot in the back and coming very close to dying. He looked up, seeming to sense that she was looking at him. He reached over and with his fingertip flipped the folder up so he could see what the case name was. “Oh, that one,” he said, his voice too casual.

  “That one?” Jessica said disbelievingly. “It says here that you were almost fatally wounded.”

  “‘Almost’ is the key word there.”

  “Jesus, you guys don’t play around down here, do you?”

  “Not too often, no,” Joe said seriously. “If you read a little bit farther you’ll see that that particular gang tried to take out not one but three cops. They tried to take me out twice.”

  Jessica just stared at him, openmouthed. “Twice?”

  Joe nodded.

  “How’d they manage to get that close to you twice?” Jessica asked with the slightest bit of rebuke.

  “It’s a long story, but the gist of it was that a woman I dated wanted me dead, and she helped them out.” Joe shrugged, trying to downplay the significance of Tasha’s betrayal.

  “She wanted you dead?” Jessica repeated, clearly struggling to believe his blasé attitude.

  “I told you, it’s a long story.”

  “I guess.” Jessica scanned down the report, and again she found herself stunned. She’d come to the section on Midnight’s abduction and the medical report on her examination. “Jesus,” she breathed, only beginning to imagine what Midnight had experienced when she was taken by the Scorpions. It was every woman’s nightmare. Jessica found herself respecting Midnight all the more for what she’d come through. She also had a deeper respect for Joe and the people he worked with.