The last time she’d been arrested was on the night they’d raided the Tops and Tails. Wow, he didn’t remember her, but then, he’d been looking for drugs at the time, not arresting the girls prostituting themselves in the back. Vince and a few of the other Vice cops had dealt with them.
A bright, blinding light came on in Cord’s brain. That could have been when his partner had met her.
Still, the whole thing made no sense. Vince would have caught the woman in a sexual act—why would he be interested after seeing her selling herself for money? Too much out of character for him. That baby damned sure had to be someone else’s.
“I hope you don’t think you’re going to come in here again with that holier-than-thou attitude, Rawlings. We won’t put up with it like Vince did,” Tidwell snarled. “Everybody at the Ninth knows it’d be like calling the kettle black.”
Cord took a deep, ragged breath, holding on to his last shred of control. He’d love to lay the man out on the floor, but he’d get suspended and didn’t need that right now. He had too much to uncover, and being at the Ninth would make that possible. “I’ll stay out of your way as long as you stay out of mine,” Cord forced out. “How would that be?”
Tidwell snorted. “You do that.”
Cord returned to the computer screen. He was boiling mad, but refused to let Tidwell know his derogatory comment had gotten to him—obviously what the man had been going for.
Cord’s phone rang and he picked it up.
“Cord, it’s Harris. Could you come into my office?”
“Sure. I’ll be right there.”
He powered down the computer and headed for the hallway.
Harris’s voice had sounded strained. What could he have possibly done in the ten minutes he’d been back at the Ninth?
Sweat beaded Cord’s upper lip. He hoped he hadn’t done something to get fired already.
****
Grace held Jacob in her arms, amazed at how much he looked like his daddy. He had Charlie’s laughing blue eyes and sweet disposition, or at least he’d been an angel since she’d gotten there.
She’d sent Emily upstairs to get some rest while she took care of the baby.
Grace smiled at the infant.
That was the one thing she regretted—not having a child with Vincent. A baby would have allowed him to live on, at least genetically.
A sad yearning washed over her, making her miss Vincent even more. He never should have died. If he hadn’t, she would have never kissed Cord, and she wouldn’t be so confused about how she felt or what she wanted right now. Vincent had made her feel stable, always on an even keel. Cord turned her emotions upside-down and sent them spinning around in circles, making her dizzy. How could anyone get a handle on that?
“What do you think, Jacob?” she asked in a hushed tone. “Do you think Cord has any feelings for me?” She shook her head in disgust. “Like you could answer that.”
“He might not be able to, but I can,” Emily said from the top of the stairs. “He does care about you, Grace. Give him a chance to prove it.”
“How?” Grace stared at her sister, unsure what she was supposed to do. “He’s messed up, Em. We get close and then he pulls away. I don’t know how to deal with that.”
“Don’t you think Cord feels the same guilt and apprehension you do? He loved Vincent, too. Maybe he feels like he’s betraying his partner, just as you’ve felt a sense of unfaithfulness to your husband.”
Grace thought about what Emily said. She could be right. Cord could be as confused and guilt-ridden as she was.
She smiled up at her sister. “How did you get so smart?”
“That’s easy. I got all the brains in our family.”
They both laughed, waking Jacob, who immediately began to cry. “See what you did. You hurt his feelings.”
Emily came down the steps and took Jacob from her right as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.”
Grace walked to the front door and looked out, noting a delivery truck in the driveway. She opened the door to find a young man holding a clipboard and a long, gold box with a black ribbon circling it. He smiled. “I have a delivery.” He handed her a pen and pointed to a line on the paper. “Sign there.” Grace quickly signed it and took the box. “Oh, let me get you a tip.”
“Don’t bother; it’s been taken care of, ma’am.”
“Okay, thank you.”
She closed the door and carried the box into the living room, where Emily now sat, nursing Jacob.
“Who are they from?”
“I don’t know. I guess the card’s inside the box. Maybe they’re from Charlie.”
Emily shook her head. “No, Charlie already gave me two dozen roses. They’re upstairs in my room. Hurry and open it.”
Grace removed the ribbon and opened the top, unfolding the paper. Inside were a dozen blood-red roses, all large and symmetrically perfect. The sweet, aromatic fragrance filled the air.
Grace tipped the box to show Emily. “They’re beautiful. I’ve never seen any that large before. I can smell them all the way over here. So who are they from?”
Grace shrugged and dug around in the box for the card, pricking her finger on a thorn. “Ouch. I got stuck.”
“Yes, but did you find the card?”
Grace sucked on her finger, then spied a small white envelope at the bottom, tucked under a stem. She reached inside again and snatched it out. “Here it is.”
Grace opened it and read the message, and her heart froze with fear. At the top of the card was her name. Beneath, in bold, underlined print, Beautiful flowers, for a beautiful...Whore.
Grace Under Fire
Chapter Fifteen
“Cord, this is Brad Talbot from Internal Affairs. He’d like to have a few words with you,” Captain Harris announced and headed for the door. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”
His boss left as if he’d had a fire set under him, and sweat broke out over Cord’s body. What the hell would Internal Affairs want to talk to him about?
“Have a seat, Detective Rawlings. I’ve got a few questions to ask.”
Cord sat across from him, his mind racing. He studied the thirty-something officer’s face. Nothing about his features gave away his intent. Obviously, that was why he had the job.
In the eight years Cord had been a cop, he’d never come up against the board.
“I can tell that you’re nervous, Detective Rawlings. Let me put your mind at ease. This has nothing to do with you. It concerns your late partner, Vincent Diaglo. As you know, his wife has applied for his benefits.” Talbot picked a pencil up off the desk and twisted it between his fingers, then asked, “Did you know that your partner was under review when he died?”
Cord’s jaw dropped. No way. This had to be a joke. Some sick initiation on Harris’s part to welcome him back. Vince had been the pride of the Ninth. How could he have done something illegal? This had to be a ruse. For now, Cord would play along with the guy. “What did he do?”
Talbot leaned back in the captain’s chair. “A number of things.”
“Such as?”
“He took bribes for keeping the Ninth off certain offenders’ backs. He wasn’t the only one under investigation. Anthony Prince and Detective Michael Tidwell are still under review to this day, though they are not privy to this, as Detective Diaglo was.”
Cord could hardly believe what he’d just heard. This charge was too serious to be a prank. This man was here to find out what he knew. How could Vince have kept this from him?
“I knew nothing about it.”
“We’re aware, Detective, that you were not cognizant of the illegal activities Vincent Diaglo was involved in. Captain Harris wasn’t even informed, until he called us this morning to find out what the hold-up was on Mrs. Diaglo’s benefits.”
Great. “So, what does this mean for her? Will she receive anything?”
“Not until the investigation has cleared Detective Diaglo of the charges.”
Cord’s
temper flared. This was his best friend being railroaded. “Do you think it’s fair to do that when the man is dead and can’t defend himself?”
“I know this must be hard to hear, Detective, but we have evidence linking him to money that a mere detective couldn’t possibly earn. Did you know he paid cash for the house on Liberty?”
“That can’t be right.” Cord interjected. “He inherited that house from a family member.”
“No, we were able to get our hands on the paperwork for the sale. He paid for it outright. In cash, according to the previous owners.”
Cord’s body went numb. This couldn’t be true. It had to be some huge misunderstanding—one he hoped he could clear up with enough time and resources.
Vincent didn’t deserve to have his name run through the mud, not when he wasn’t here to do anything about it.
This was another thing Grace couldn’t find out about. It would hurt her too much. But how could he keep it from her when she expected to hear something about Vince’s benefits soon?
He really hated to lie to her again, but what was his alternative? The truth wouldn’t set him free. Not this time. It would only make things worse.
He had to think of something that would sound feasible to her. Something that would give him time to clear up this mess so Grace would get the benefits she needed and Vince could retain his record, remaining the exemplary officer in everyone’s eyes.
****
Grace stared out the picture window, watching a fat gray squirrel scamper across an electric line. Her stomach was knotted into a tight ball. Who would have sent her those flowers and called her a whore? Had it been Cord? Would he think of her in that way after their encounter at Lightly Seasoned? Surely not! Mike Tidwell? A possibility. The whole thing made her sick inside. She wanted to cry, but refused to succumb to tears. It wasn’t going to help. Obviously, she needed to grow a thicker skin.
You’re a cop’s widow. Act like one.
The front door lock clicked and the door opened. Charlie walked into the foyer, smiling when he saw her. What a great smile he had. Grace had loved Charlie Danner the moment she’d met him. Right away, she’d seen how much he adored her sister, and all Grace had ever wanted was for Emily to be happy. She was sure her sister wanted that for her, as well. And for some strange reason, she thought Cord could be the road to that happiness.
Charlie walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder. “How’d everything go today?”
Grace smiled. “Fine. Jacob and Emily are both upstairs.”
He nodded. “Do you know when Cord will be here? I thought that later I’d throw some steaks on the barbecue pit.”
“Sounds good. Charlie, I need to ask you a question.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“You don’t have a problem with us staying here, do you?”
He shook his dark head. “Not at all, Grace. Heck, I thought while Cord was here, I could get him to help me do some repairs on that old tree house out back, for Jacob. I have two left hands when it comes to working with wood.”
The glow in Charlie’s eyes when he spoke of his son made Grace’s heart tighten with emotion. He was definitely a proud papa and, to her, an amazing husband to Emily.
She sighed. It was sad that she’d never get to witness Vincent in that realm, but he’d have been a wonderful father.
“I’m going to run up and see Emily and the baby.”
“Okay,” Grace said half-heartedly. “I’ll go see about those steaks.”
Grace entered the kitchen, focused on preparing a meal. She’d make some kind of salad to go along with the beef.
She opened the refrigerator and looked inside, her mind meandering back to having children. What kind of father would Cord make? He was such a loner. How could he be open to a child’s needs when he was so distant with everyone? Would he even want kids? Probably not.
A light tap on glass made Grace slam the refrigerator door.
She turned to find Cord standing in front of the sliding glass door. Her heart fluttered when he smiled.
The fleeting sunlight gleamed down on his head like a golden halo, highlighting each strand of hair. He looked like a god. Why did he have to be so darn good-looking? Desire gripped Grace’s belly. She’d never wanted a man so much in her life. Obviously pigs could sprout wings.
Inhaling deeply, Grace went to unlock the door. Once inside, she shut and relocked it. She thought about mentioning the flowers she’d received, but dismissed it. She’d talk to him later about them.
His smile broadened and her heart took off again, careening out of control.
“How’d it go today?” he asked, his gaze intent on hers.
Grace tried to speak, but found her throat clogged. She swallowed and tried again. “All right, and how was your day?”
“Interesting.” He brushed a wisp of hair from her face, and Grace fought the urge to take hold of his hand and bring it to her chest.
She cleared her throat. “Charlie was just asking about you.”
His brows came together in a questioning look. “Really?”
“Yeah, he was going to throw some steaks on the grill. I was just getting ready to make a salad.”
“Can I help?”
God, no.
The last thing she needed was Cord breathing down her neck—or it was the only thing she needed? She didn’t want to think about it. He unnerved her to the point of making her clumsy. If she allowed him to help, she might end up with a few missing appendages. “Actually, I think Charlie planned to ask you to help him work on the tree house out back.”
“No problem. I’ll go and take a look at it now.”
“Okay. I’ll tell Charlie you’re outside when he comes down.”
He walked out the doors, and Grace released a ragged breath.
She needed serious psychological help. She was no teenage girl mooning over a boy in tight jeans. Not hardly. More like a lonely, desperate widow wanting to divest a man of his tight jeans, which was far worse.
****
After supper, Cord and Charlie climbed up the slatted ladder nailed into the base of the tree to examine the structure. Cord noticed the place was shaped like a ship, ten feet up, in a huge old elm.
Inside, Cord eased his way across the flooring on his hands and knees, relieved to find it sound.
“I think the decking is pretty solid, Charlie. We shouldn’t have too much to repair.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m definitely no Handy Andy.”
Cord laughed. “I’m hardly a carpenter, myself, but I’m sure we can get it seaworthy, so to speak.”
Charlie smiled. “I guess I have a few years before it’ll be used anyway. I just feel a need to do it now. You never know what tomorrow will bring. Mortality was thrust into my face when Vince died.”
Cord nodded. “That’s true.”
Charlie sat next to the door. Cord could tell by the man’s expression that he wanted to ask something.
“What’s on your mind, Charlie?”
“I know this isn’t any of my business, but what’s going on with you and Grace?”
The question took Cord by surprise. Had Grace said something to him? Was she wondering where they stood, after their brush with passion the other day?
“What do you mean?”
“Look, Cord. You’d have to be blind not to see there’s something between you two. I think you’d be good for my sister-in-law. She needs someone who she can start over with.”
“I’m not that man, Charlie. She needs someone who doesn’t drown himself in a bottle when things get tough.”
Charlie stared him down. “You’re stronger than you think you are.”
Was he? Cord wished he were as positive about that fact. “I have a lot of baggage. Grace doesn’t need that.”
“She needs someone who can love her completely. That’s all, Cord. Between you and me, Vince was too into himself to be the perfect husband. He didn’t look at Grace the way a man in love should.”
“Vincent wasn’t crazy in love with her. They were friends before they became romantic. And, from what I witnessed, the romance wasn’t anything to write home about. Not like Emily and me.”
Cord thought back to the times he’d spent with the couple, remembering they hadn’t been real affectionate with each other, but he’d thought it was just because he was around. He’d assumed they were different in private.
This could have been motive for Vince to stray, if indeed he had. But it made no sense. When Cord was with Grace, he felt like a wildfire burned out of control in his body. He couldn’t be within fifty feet of her without his temperature surging to an uncomfortable level.
All he’d thought about since their passionate exchange was Grace’s soft, firm breast against his palm, her nipple tightening in response. Her sweet, tender lips on his, inciting him to insanity. So why hadn’t Vince and Grace shared that same kind of magic?
Grace was pure sexual energy, and she ignited an overwhelming passion in him that he had to fight every second of every day, or it’d take over.
How could Grace have that with him and not Vince? Yet another question he had no answer to, and never would, with Vince dead.
Grace Under Fire
Chapter Sixteen
Grace stared up at the light in the tree house, contemplating what she should do. A late night breeze chilled the fragrant summer air. She wrapped an afghan tightly around her shoulders.
Should I go and talk to Cord?
Goose bumps popped up at the prospect of being alone with him. He’d probably have the opposite reaction. He didn’t want to be in the same room with her anymore. Why else would he choose to spend the evening working on a tree house?
Charlie had come down hours ago and gone upstairs to bed. Grace was left to wander the house, desperate for someone to talk to. She understood Emily and Charlie’s need for rest. They had a baby that kept them up.
But she wasn’t even remotely tired. She was restless. Needed someone to interact with. Someone, huh! Interact, right! Who was she trying to fool? She wanted Cord. Close. Touching her. Making her feel alive again.
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