—Samuel Beckett
Traci had the lights flashing and the sirens blaring before Dylan had time to end the call with the dispatcher. As she took a right turn with a little too much gusto, her partner cursed under his breath.
“Calm down, Lucky. Getting us killed on the way to the center isn’t going to help anyone. Especially not me.”
Barely braking through an intersection, she didn’t bother to spare him a look. “You know what’s going through my mind. That piece of crap Hunter is out on bail. And, remember, I told you that he contacted Gwen last week.”
“There’s a lot of women there, Traci. Gwen isn’t the only one who has a dangerous ex. Get your head on straight and slow down,” Dylan said before getting back on his radio.
Dylan was right. She knew he was right. Traci also knew she was way too involved. She couldn’t fix Gwen, only help her get connected with the people who could help her get back on her feet.
But, that didn’t mean she was ready to stand to one side if Gwen was in danger.
“Emerson already arrived. We’re close, right?”
“Yeah.” Finally, she heeded him and slowed.
“Thank you.” He mumbled something else under his breath that was probably good that she didn’t hear. “Are you good?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s with you and this girl, anyway? The first time I saw you visiting her at the hospital, it looked like you would’ve rather been getting your teeth pulled.”
He wasn’t too far off the mark. “She reminds me of me.”
“How so? I didn’t know you had a drug problem.”
“I didn’t.”
“So, what? You have an abusive ex?”
Realizing that he wasn’t going to give up, she said, “My birth mother experimented with drugs and alcohol when she was pregnant with me. I was born an addict.”
“Shannon, too?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. Not with Kimber either. I was part of her experimental phase, I guess.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine. But that’s the answer to your question. I started out wanting to help this girl’s baby. But now . . . I kind of want to help her too.” At last, she pulled to a stop in front of the center.
Two other squad cars were there, illustrating that her partner had been right. The situation was urgent, but there hadn’t been a need to drive like a bat out of hell.
Dylan opened the door. Traci did the same.
Emerson met them as they approached the building.
“’Bout time you got here, kids.”
“Don’t egg her on,” Dylan warned. “I had to tell Lucky at least five times to slow down.”
“Never mind that. What’s going on?” Traci asked. “Where do you need us?”
“Nothing to do,” Emerson replied. “Somebody’s ex decided to force his way in. When the guard questioned him, he took off.”
“That’s all you know?”
“No. Suspect was a white Caucasian male, likely between twenty-four and twenty-eight years of age. Looked strung out, but it could just be his normal way.” Turning more serious, he gestured toward the front entrance. “Filmore is looking at the tapes with the administrator right now.”
“See? Lucky? It could be anyone.”
Her partner was right. That description could fit a lot of people. However, it also didn’t rule out Hunter Benton. “We’ll see.”
“I was just about to go in and talk with some of the women,” Emerson said. “Traci, would you mind coming in as well? They might say more to you.”
“That works for me,” Traci said. “Dylan, you good?”
“Yeah. I want to stay out here until Filmore gets an ID.”
“It might be a minute,” Emerson warned.
Dylan grinned as he pulled out his phone. “That’s okay, I need a minute. Shannon texted me when we were on our wild ride. I need to call her back real quick.”
Traci smiled as she hastily followed Emerson inside the Center. Shannon was in full party planning mode. Kimber had said that their girl was on the phone most of the night before talking to her mother about food for the party. She was fairly certain that discussing chicken versus pasta was the last thing that Dylan was going to want to talk about—though, who knew? He was putty where Shannon was concerned.
“Officer Lucky!”
She turned to see Gwen approaching. Today, she was wearing a loose, printed blouse, black leggings, and white Keds. She looked adorable and pregnant. She also looked scared to death.
Hoping to calm her down, Traci smiled. “Look at your shirt! Tiny daisies on your clothes suits you.”
“Someone donated this.” She ran a hand along the edge of her top. “I wouldn’t have thought it was me, but I think it kind of is.”
“I definitely think it is.” Turning serious, she said, “How are you doing? Hanging in there?”
“I would say pretty good but now I don’t know. The alarms went off when I was working in the kitchen with Dawn. Next thing I knew, we were in lockdown.”
“That’ll wake you up, huh?”
“It about gave me a heart attack.” She gestured toward Emerson who was talking with two women. “That cop said that an officer and Ms. Landers are looking at tapes right now.”
Traci nodded. “That’s correct. Officer Filmore is really good, Gwen. He’ll find out who was here.”
Gwen lowered her voice. “Officer Lucky, what if it was Hunter?”
“We don’t know it was.”
“But what if it was?”
“If it was him, then we’ll deal with it, right? You’re not alone anymore.” Traci waved a hand, gesturing to the long table in the dining room and the soft, comfortable couches in the room where they were sitting. “This place is really nice. You’ve got people here to support you, three meals a day, and top of the line security. I can’t think of a better place for you to be.”
“I guess.”
“I know I’m right.”
Dylan came up behind her. “Modesty isn’t Officer Lucky’s strong suit,” he teased. “I’m Officer Lange. I don’t know if you remember, but we met a while ago.”
“I remember.” She eyed him warily.
He pulled out a chair. “Let’s all sit down.”
Gwen sat immediately.
After double-checking with Emerson to make sure he didn’t need her help, Traci joined them. Noticing that Gwen looked pale and tense again, she spoke to Dylan first. “So, what did Shannon want?”
“She wanted to know what I thought about pasta primavera. Why?”
“No reason.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. You knew that’s why Shannon was calling, didn’t you?”
“I could say no, but I’d be lying.”
“You could have warned me.” He turned to Gwen. “I’m engaged to Officer Lucky’s sister.”
“Really? That’s cool.”
Traci smiled too. “It really is . . . except that now I hear about the party to celebrate their wedding from both my sister and my partner.”
“Don’t listen to a word she says. Officer Lucky loves it,” Dylan retorted just as Ellen Landers and Officer Filmore walked out of her office. Both looked serious.
Dylan stepped forward. “Do you have a name?”
“We do,” Filmore said before looking at Gwen.
Gwen jumped to her feet. “Oh my gosh! Was it Hunter? Was he here?” Tears formed in her eyes. “What was he trying to do?”
Ellen Landers shook her head. “It wasn’t Hunter Benton, Gwen.”
“Are you sure?” Gwen swiped a tear that had fallen down her cheek.
“I’m positive.” The director sighed. “But that doesn’t mean someone else here wasn’t affected. I’m afraid you’re going to have to head back to
your room, dear.”
Gwen seemed frozen. “I’ll walk her to the stairs, Ellen,” Traci said. Wrapping an arm around the girl, she half-guided, half-pushed her into the hall.
When they were alone, Traci looked at her in the eye. “Calm down.”
“But I was so sure.”
“To be honest, I was worried, too. But tonight isn’t your nightmare. It’s someone else’s.” She lowered her voice even further. “Do you hear what I’m saying?”
At long last, Gwen nodded. “He didn’t find me. I’m safe.”
“That’s right, honey,” Traci soothed. “Now go get some rest. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
Still looking shaken, Gwen nodded then slowly ascended the stairs.
Traci wondered if the girl felt any better or if she believed she was safe. She hoped Gwent felt secure, because Traci didn’t believe she really was very safe. As long as Hunter was still in the area, Gwen was going to be on his radar. If he didn’t know where she was already, he was still looking for her. Men like him didn’t disappear easily.
CHAPTER 14
“Music is an agreeable harmony for the honor of
God and the permissible delights of the soul.”
—Johann Sebastian Bach
The Next Day
He didn’t want to answer his cell phone, but experience had taught Matt that it was better to get some things—like a flu shot—over with and move on with his life. “Hi, Mama,” he said as he continued to drive down the windy roads of Bridgeport.
“Matteo, what is this girl like?”
That’s how his mother was. She didn’t believe in small talk with her kids. No, she went right for the jugular every time. “I’ve told you about her already. She’s a cop.”
“That tells me nothing. I hardly know anything at all about this girl. What’s her name?”
“Traci.”
“No, her full name.”
“Traci Lucky.”
His mother’s voice rose. “Lucky?”
“Yeah, Mama. You know, like a four-leaf clover,” he added as he came to a stop.
“Lucky-like-a-clover isn’t Italian.”
“You’re right. It isn’t, because she’s not Italian.”
“What nationality is she?”
“I’m not sure. That hasn’t come up yet.”
“Really? I find that hard to believe.”
He mentally rolled his eyes. “Mama, of course you would. But, I promise, no one else would think such a thing. People don’t go around asking personal questions about other people’s heritage.”
“Saying you’re Italian isn’t exactly personal. What is her religion? Is she Catholic?”
Oh, for Pete’s sakes. “Mama, I don’t know that either. And no, I am not going to ask.”
“So all you know about her is that she’s a cop. That doesn’t seem like enough information. She’s going to be your date at your brother’s wedding, you know.”
“First of all, it’s a wedding, not a family reunion. Secondly, I know that she’s a cop, she lives in a house with her sisters and that house is also a dance studio. I also know that she cares enough about other people that she goes above and beyond to help them. Isn’t that enough?”
“I suppose so. Those are very good qualities,” she said grudgingly.
“I thought so too, Mama.” Yes, he was being sarcastic.
“You haven’t told me what she looked like. Is she a pretty girl?”
“Yes. She’s about five and a half feet tall, has brown hair, brown eyes, and she likes to run.”
“So, she could be a little Italian.”
Matt was glad he was on the phone. There was only so much of this round and round conversation that a man could take. “Sorry, Mama, but I’ve got to go now. I’m almost at the dance studio.”
“Oh. Oh!” Her voice turned warmer. “That’s good. Well, call me when you leave.”
“No, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Good night, Mama.”
“All right,” she said around a sigh. “Good night, Matt. Have a good time.”
When he hung up, he breathed a sigh of relief. She was both his greatest love and his greatest source of exhaustion. She always wanted more information than he could give her, which always left him feeling as if he was letting her down. Of course, it was better than how their conversations used to go—back in the day he would reveal too much and then come to regret it.
One woman he’d dated had said she’d felt as if his mother was in their bedroom, she knew so much. Of course it hadn’t been that bad, but that sly comment had given him reason to guard his tongue more often.
Just as he was walking to the door of Dance With Me, his phone buzzed again. He wasn’t on call, but he checked his phone anyway. The hospital staff knew there were a few of his high-risk patients who he would want to talk to no matter what.
When he saw who it was, he rolled his eyes but answered it anyway. “Hey.”
“Are you there yet?” his sister Bennie asked.
“I’m about to walk in. What’s up?”
“I’m calling to give you warning that our mother wants to know all about this policewoman.”
“Policewoman? I believe that term ended at the end of Angie Dickensen’s show. The correct term is police officer.”
“Whatever. Has our mother called you yet to give you the third degree?”
“I just got off the phone with her. You know she wasn’t going to wait to get information..”
“Oh. How did it go?”
“About how you would expect. I left her wanting more.”
“She seems to think that a cop isn’t the right girl for you,” Bennie said.
“I got that idea too, but I have no idea why she would think such a thing.”
“Um, I believe she said something to the effect that you bring babies into the world while she locks them up.”
He felt like hitting his head against the wall. “So, our mother has officially gone crazy.”
“Pretty much,” Bennie agreed. “I’ll run interference as much as I can.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I do have your best interests at heart here.”
“I know you do, which is why I know you’re going to understand when I tell you that I’ve got to go. Bye, sweetheart,” he said as he entered the front door of the building.
He walked in, closed it quietly behind him, and took a cleansing breath.
And when he opened his eyes, he found three women sitting on a window seat side by side. Every one of them was watching him with an amused expression.
“Hey,” he said, feeling embarrassed. “Have you all been sitting here a while?”
“Long enough to see that you talk on your phone more than most girls I know,” a wholesome looking woman with bright blue eyes said.
“Long enough to hear you call that person sweetheart,” a strikingly beautiful woman with warm bronzy skin said.
“That was my sister.”
“You call your sister sweetheart?” that was from a pretty blonde in an emerald green flowy dress.
“She’s my little sister. Bennie.”
“Bennie?” the blonde asked.
“It’s short for Bernadette,” he explained. Boy, it was really ironic. He’d hated giving his mother any information about Traci, but here he was telling these three strangers all about his sister.
“I’d go by Bennie, if my name was Bernadette, too,” said Traci who had just appeared in gray slacks, low heels, and a black sweater.
After taking a moment to appreciate how pretty she looked, he turned to the women again. “Since you now know all about my sister, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Matt Rossi.”
“Dr. Matteo Rossi,” Traci corrected. “M
att, please meet my sisters Kimber and Shannon and my sister-in-law Jennifer.”
“My brother Dylan just married Shannon,” Jennifer explained.
“Dylan is also my partner in the police department,” Traci added.
“I see.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, since he was sort of feeling like he was on display.
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” the woman in the green dress said. “As Traci said, I’m Shannon, and I heard that you two need to learn to waltz for a wedding.”
“We do.” He smiled at Traci. “It’s in six weeks.”
“I think it’s time we got started, then. We’ve got a lot to do.” She held out a hand. “Traci, Matt, shall we dance?”
Matt didn’t know whether to take Shannon’s hand, take Traci’s, or turn and walk away.
But then Traci solved the problem. “We’ve got this,” she whispered before taking her sister’s hand, winking at Kimber and Jennifer, and beckoning him to follow them into the dance studio.
Like a duckling following his mother, Matt followed along.
He had no idea what was about to happen, but he was now ready for anything.
Including holding Traci in his arms very soon.
CHAPTER 15
paso doble: The man dances as if he were the
bull, and the woman as if she were the bullfighter.
There had been a number of times in her life when Traci had stopped, looked at herself in the mirror, and wondered how she’d gotten to such a place.
It had happened during her fourth or fifth foster home, when she’d realized that her foster parents weren’t very smart or very hands on. They’d simply done the minimum that was expected of them so they could get checks from the government.
It had happened when she’d gotten into the group home—the place that she’d been terrified of being sent to for most of her life—and realized that it was a better situation than she’d ever dreamed was possible.
She’d had that same feeling of awe and confusion when she’d graduated first in her class from the police academy. And, of course, when she’d gotten off the phone with Shannon for the first time.
And now, here she was, feeling that same tingly, confusing sensation again.
Take the Lead Page 8
