by RJ Nolan
Claire sauntered over and sat on the edge of the desk. “I’ve been so busy, I just haven’t had time for anything. John’s been traveling, and Sherry… Well, you know how teenagers are. Everything’s a crisis.”
Riley glanced at her watch. Enough with the buildup. What do you want? She needed to get home so she could shower and change before meeting Sam for dinner.
Shifting against the desk in the growing silence, Claire said, “I need you to cover for me in-house tonight.”
“Sorry. I can’t do that. I have plans.”
Claire’s mouth dropped open.
That’s right. I’m not going to be a pushover anymore. This had been part of the vow she had made to herself a few months ago. Up until now, she hadn’t managed to keep that promise, but now she would. She pushed away the twinge of guilt. She really did have plans.
“I’ll cover for you next month,” Claire said.
That’s what she always said, but she never actually did. Riley shook her head. “Sorry.”
“But I promised Sherry a week ago I’d be at her play. She’ll be heartbroken.”
Her temper flared. So Claire had known about it all that time, but only bothered to ask her now? The guilt Riley felt at disappointing a child, even one as spoiled as Sherry, melted away. “Sorry. I have plans.”
Claire’s expression darkened. “You could change them.”
Riley rose and faced her. “If you had let me know sooner, maybe I could have. But at the last minute, no, I can’t change them.”
“So you won’t do it?” Claire’s brow lowered; her eyes bore into Riley. “You’ll make me disappoint my daughter and break her heart?”
Riley struggled to remain firm. “Sorry. No. I have plans.” She motioned toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish up here.”
In a huff, Claire stomped to the door, opened it, and then turned back to Riley. “Wasn’t the woman I saw you with in the arboretum last week the cop that got shot a few weeks ago?”
Riley nodded.
“That’s right.” Claire’s head bobbed. “You did her surgery—didn’t you?”
The sly look on Claire’s face sent alarm bells ringing in Riley’s head. What was she up to?
“Ah…if I remember correctly, there were a number of people who weren’t too happy about that. I’m sure some of them would be interested in learning about your little rendezvous.”
Are you threatening me? Riley’s hackles rose. “I’m sure there are. Just like I’m sure there are a few people who would be interested in hearing about some of the things you do, Claire.”
Claire’s eyes went wide, and her mouth worked, but no sound emerged.
Never saw that one coming, did you? I’m through being afraid of what you might think of me.
Clair stepped out of the office and quietly closed the door behind her.
Chapter 17
Peering through the windshield, Sam scanned the parking lot. Would have helped if you’d asked her what kind of car she drives.
A sleek Jaguar coupe pulled into the lot. The overhead lights sparkled off its slate-blue paint.
Sam whistled. “Nice wheels.”
The driver pulled the coupe into the only remaining spot along the back wall of the crowded city parking lot.
That can’t be Riley. Can it? Sam opened her door and stepped out, watching the driver’s side door of the Jaguar.
It opened, and Riley climbed out.
Sam glanced down at her Dodge Challenger, then back at Riley’s gleaming Jaguar. She could only dream of owning a car like that. Leaning back inside her car, she grabbed her cane from behind the driver’s seat. She tossed a glare at the cane, then sighed. When she turned around, she spotted a bedraggled man approaching Riley from behind. Son of a bitch! She slammed her car door.
Riley whirled around.
The man’s voice drifted over, but Sam couldn’t make out his words. Her incision burned as she forced herself into a fast pace. Pain shot down her thigh. Gritting her teeth, she forged on. She was still several feet way when the man’s words became clear.
“Gimme a dollar. Gimme a dollar. Gimme a dollar.” He had Riley trapped between her car and the one next to hers. The fronts of the cars were situated against the short concrete wall surrounding the lot. He was blocking her only way out.
“Hey,” Sam called. “Leave her alone.”
The panhandler jerked around and faced her. His hair and chest-length beard were filthy and matted, his face so covered in grime, she wasn’t sure of his age. The unfocused look in his eyes made her heart rate speed up and sent her senses onto high alert. She had dealt with this type of street person before. He was like a bomb—primed to go off, but you never knew what would set it off.
Sam stopped at the rear of Riley’s car so the man had a clear exit. She kept her free hand in plain view and leaned on her cane, in hopes that he wouldn’t view it as a weapon. She spared a quick glance at Riley, silently praying she’d be still. Avoiding eye contact with the man, she said, “No money. Be on your way.”
“Gimme a dollar. Gimme a dollar,” the man continued to chant.
“No money. There’s a mission not far from here, over on Kettner. They’ll give you something to eat.”
The man ignored her and turned back to Riley, still blocking her escape. “Gimme a dollar.”
Illuminated by a nearby streetlight, Riley’s pale, scared face was clearly visible. She shook her head. “No money.” Her voice trembled.
“Gimme a dollar,” the panhandler said, his tone turning strident.
Great. We had to run into a nut when I’m gimping around. No help for it now. Sam straightened, her hand tightening on the cane. “No. No money. Now leave.” She kept her voice calm, but firm. “I’m a police officer. Don’t—”
The man screamed as he whipped around, his eyes gone wild. He flailed his arms. “Police brutality! Police brutality!” He lunged toward Sam. “I’ve got witnesses.”
“Riley! Get out of here!” Sam grabbed for his arm, praying her injured leg would hold.
He jerked back out of her reach and swung wildly.
Ducking back, Sam easily avoided the blow. “Calm down. Just walk away.” She grasped her cane in the center of its length, prepared to use it as a weapon if need be.
The man spun around and launched a back kick at her.
She tried to dodge, but her injured leg couldn’t take the strain. The kick landed on her injured thigh, sending her to the ground. She fell to her hands and knees on the asphalt, losing her cane in the process. Pain seared through her leg. Fuck!
As the man loomed over her, she flashed back to that moment in the ER when Keith shot her. She tensed for the next blow, even as she grabbed for her cane.
The man howled as if the devil himself were attacking him.
“Get away from her!”
Sam’s head whipped up at the sound of Riley’s voice.
Riley sprayed the man with a canister in her hand, apparently for the second time.
Catching a whiff of pepper spray, Sam’s nose wrinkled.
The man ran from the parking lot, pawing at his face and bouncing off cars as he went.
Riley crouched down in front of Sam. “How badly are you hurt?”
Sam gazed into Riley’s concerned face, amazed at her courage. “I’m fine.”
Giving her a dubious look, Riley said, “Can you stand if I help you?”
“I can get up on my own.” Sam picked up her cane. Leaning heavily on it, she regained her feet. Now that the excitement was over, embarrassment was starting to set in. That’s twice she’s saved your sorry ass. “Are you all right?”
“You’re worried about me?” Riley shook her head. “You’re something else. I’m not the one Karate Joe just used his kung fu moves on.” She made a chopping motion with her hand.
Sam burst out laughing; then all the things that could have gone wrong flashed through her mind, and she sobered. “You should have run when I told you to
.”
Riley stared at her open-mouthed. “You’re already hurt because of me. No way was I going to run away while some guy kicked the hell out of you.” She huffed, thrusting out her chest. “Despite recent evidence to the contrary, I’m not helpless.”
“I know you’re not helpless. But this is what I do. It’s my job.”
“Not when you’re hurt. Not because of me.”
Sam was set back on her heels by the vehemence in her voice. “Riley.”
Riley’s hand slashed sideways in negation. “This isn’t about me. I saw that kick land. How bad is it—really?” When Sam hesitated, she gave her “the look.”
Sam blew out a breath. She’s got you pegged. She rested her butt against Riley’s car to take some of the stress off her leg. “I managed to avoid the full force of the blow. Damn leg just didn’t appreciate the sudden moves.” She rubbed her leg and tried not to wince. “I’m sure it will bruise, but that’s all.”
“We need to get you to the ER and have that leg checked,” Riley said. “We can call the police from the ER and report this.”
Sam shook her head. “I’m fine.” Despite the throbbing in her thigh, there was no way she was going to the ER. She was already embarrassed enough. “I’m sorry about all this.” She scanned the area, though she was confident the perp was long gone. “I’ll contact the precinct tomorrow and let them know to keep an eye out for this guy. As far as dinner goes, it’s up to you. If you want, we can just call it a night?” She wasn’t sure she could walk to the restaurant, but if Riley still wanted to have dinner with her, she was sure going to try.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, but we should skip the restaurant,” Riley said. “You need to get your leg taken care of. Tell you what, I’ll buy you some takeout—after you get seen in the ER.”
“No. I’m—”
Riley held up her hand. “Stop. There’s no way you’re not hurting. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’re leaning against the car to keep the weight off that leg.”
Busted. Sam pushed away from the car. The moment she put her full weight on her leg, she flinched. Damn, that smarts. “Honestly, I don’t need the ER.” She checked the front of her jeans for blood. There wasn’t any. “I’m sure it’s just bruised.”
“Okay, here’s the deal. You go to the ER and have your leg checked out, or you come over to my place for a while until we make sure it is just a bruise and doesn’t get any worse. I’ll order some Chinese takeout.”
“You don’t need to go to all that trouble. I’m fine.”
Taking a step closer, Riley scowled up at her. Green fire sparked in her eyes. “The ER or my place. Pick.”
Whoa. She may be small, but she’s got that whole, ‘don’t mess with me, I’m in charge’ thing down. Sam grinned. I like that. The thought caught her by surprise. “Okay. Fine. Your place.”
Chapter 18
Sam followed Riley’s Jag to a large, twelve-story brick building. She lives here? She’d driven past the high-rise and admired the stunning waterfront views, but living in the building was a pipe dream. The condos were priced way out of her league.
Riley stopped her car in front of the building.
Sam pulled in behind her.
A uniformed attendant approached and opened her door for Riley, who stepped out and handed him the keys. Together, they approached Sam’s car.
Sam opened her own door and got out.
Riley smiled. “If you give Stewart your keys, he’ll take care of your car.”
Valet parking at condos? Sam eyed the man for a moment, then handed over her car keys.
Riley motioned toward the front entrance, allowing Sam to set the pace.
Though Sam’s leg had stiffened in just the short ride, she tried not to limp as they walked toward the door.
A uniformed attendant opened the large glass doors for them.
As they stepped inside, Sam stopped for a moment to take in her surroundings. The lobby was immense, like a foyer in a very expensive hotel. The crystal chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling threw prisms of light around the room. A grouping of leather chairs rested on an expansive oriental rug that protected the gleaming hardwood floor. Living in this place probably cost a fortune. Being a trauma surgeon must pay even better than she thought.
Another uniformed man stepped out from behind a massive desk. “Good evening, Dr. Connolly.”
Geez, how many of these guys are there?
Frowning, the guard swept his gaze over Sam. “Do you need some assistance with your… guest?” His tone suggested he’d be more than happy to toss her out on her ass at the slightest indication from Riley.
It wasn’t hard to figure out what the man’s problem was. Sam glanced down at her dirt-stained jeans and scuffed shoes. Compared to Riley’s pressed slacks and beautifully tailored blouse, she must look like some bum. She put on her cop face and met the guard’s gaze head-on. Scruffy or not, she had every right to be here.
Riley’s gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, then her body stiffened. “That won’t be necessary.”
Taken aback by her tone, Sam looked over at her. Oh! She’s pissed.
Riley’s stare pinned the man in place. “This is Officer Samantha McKenna of the San Diego Police Department. See to it that she is added to the permanent guest list and issued a parking pass.”
“Yes, Dr. Connolly. Right away,” the guard said in a subdued voice.
Sam resisted the childish impulse to smirk at him as Riley motioned her toward the elevator.
* * *
Sam followed Riley into her condo. Wow! The first thing that caught her attention was the floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a panoramic view of the bay. It was readily apparent that Riley lived a much different life than her own decidedly middle-class one.
Riley took off her shoes, placed them on a mat right inside the door, and slipped on a pair of soft-soled house shoes.
After setting her cane on the floor, Sam bent to tug at the laces of her shoes. She winced as pain stabbed her thigh.
“You don’t have to do that,” Riley said.
Sam glanced at the spotless inlaid tile entryway. Ignoring Riley’s demurral, she pulled off her shoes. “No problem.”
“Go ahead into the living room and make yourself comfortable. I’ll gather what I need to take care of your leg.” Riley disappeared deeper into the condo.
Sam resisted the urge to chase after her. The rubber tip of her cane squeaked on the highly polished hardwood floor as she gingerly made her way into the living room in her stocking feet.
A modernistic pristine white leather sofa faced the windows. She eyed the dirt staining her jeans and looked around for someplace else to sit.
The only other seat in the living area was a chair made of tubular steel and leather straps. Sam wasn’t sure she would be able to get out of the chair if she sat down. Glass and metal furnishings dominated the cold, stark room. All of the pieces had unusual shapes and angles, and none of them looked comfortable or functional. A large abstract painting that consisted of slashes and trailing drips of red pigment hung on the far wall. Looks like it belongs in a slasher movie, after the bad guy cut loose. The whole room appeared as if it had been lifted straight from the pages of a modern design magazine. It wasn’t at all the type of place she had pictured Riley living.
Banging, coming for what Sam assumed must be the kitchen, distracted her from the quest for someplace safe to sit. What’s she doing? She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and let the view ease some of her discomfort with her surroundings. Lights aglow, the harbor was laid out before her like a many-faceted jewel.
“You need to get off that leg and ice it down.”
Sam started at the sound of Riley’s voice.
Riley laid out the items she was carrying on the coffee table and motioned toward the sofa. “Take off your pants and stretch out on the couch.”
In another time and place, Sam would have jumped on the provocative comme
nt. Not with her. Even if Riley were gay, she didn’t seem to be a no-strings-attached type of woman.
“Come on.” Riley held out a folded bed sheet. “I’ve got ice for your leg, but it won’t do you any good through your jeans.”
She can’t seriously expect me to drop my pants. Sam looked back and forth between Riley and the couch but made no move to comply.
Riley’s brow furrowed. “I brought you a sheet to cover up with.”
Gazing down at everything spread out on the coffee table, Sam shook her head. “There’s no need for all this. It’s nothing—”
“It wasn’t nothing!” Riley’s eyes sparked with intensity; then her expression crumbled. “That panhandler could’ve really hurt you.”
Riley turned away, but not before Sam thought she had seen tears in her eyes. Riley dropped onto the couch and buried her face in her hands.
What the hell? This wasn’t the strong, spunky woman who had pepper-sprayed her attacker. Heedless of her dirty jeans, Sam sat down next to her. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s just a bruise.”
Riley brushed at her tears, then looked up with a guilt-ridden expression. “Your sister was right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I should’ve stayed away from you. All I ever do is get you hurt.”
“What! That’s ridiculous. What happened tonight wasn’t your fault. If it was anyone’s fault, then it was mine. I chose to meet at an unattended parking lot with no security.” If she’d known what kind of car Riley drove, she’d have picked a secure lot.
Riley shook her head. “This wasn’t a good idea.”
Sam wasn’t sure what this Riley was referring to: meeting for dinner, bringing her home, or having anything to do with her at all. Although they had not spent a lot of time together, the thought that Riley might want to walk out of her life forever sent an inexplicably strong surge of regret through her heart. I’m not giving up that easy.
Sam pushed off the sofa and stood. She unbuckled her belt and then unfastened her pants.
“What are you doing?” Riley asked.
