Police Business

by Julie Miller

  Once Aaron was out of earshot, Rob grabbed her by the shoulders and backed her up against the paneling again. He was flushed all the way up to the receding line of his cropped brown hair. “I remember when the hired help knew how to keep their mouths shut and look the other way.”

  “He’s just doing his job.”

  “Well, I’m not giving a recommendation to Tucker if that guy ever needs one. I like to put the moves on my girl without an audience.”

  Rob made sure she saw the words before he leaned down and nuzzled the side of her neck. Hmm. Nothing. Except the urge to offer him a breath mint and write out the lesson plans for her classroom visits next week.

  Claire pressed her lips together to keep from giggling at the uncharitable thought. At the Fourth Precinct office this afternoon, A. J. Rodriguez had done little more than brush his fingers across her cheek and her body temperature skyrocketed. When he looked into her eyes and spoke, she had a hard time concentrating on anything but him. And his upper body did more for plain black T-shirts than any million-dollar ad campaign could ever do for Rob’s Armani suits.

  She squared her hands on the lapels of said suit and pushed. “Rob. Is there something you wanted? You said you were looking for Gina?”

  “Gina can wait.”

  He leaned in to kiss her full on the mouth and she shoved harder. “Rob! Please. I don’t want—”

  “I know, I know.” With a gut-deep sigh, he finally pulled back from his romantic overtures. “We have guests.”

  Technically, he was a guest, too. And though he’d made himself more at home than she’d like, Claire gave up the idea of making an early night of it and snatched at the excuse he offered. “We should get back to them.”

  Despite his answering smile, he made no move to let her pass. “I don’t think your father would mind if we took a little time to play. I was looking for someone to share the good news with.”

  “What good news?” Right now, the only news she’d really appreciate hearing was that Dominic Galvan had been found—either dead, or trapped in some remote prison in Antarctica.

  But since Rob didn’t know the details of what she’d seen last night, she waited for him to speak. “Cain really liked the work I did with Gina setting up the nationwide distribution of our foreign wines. He even mentioned a promotion. I’ll be sitting in at the board meeting tomorrow.”

  “That’s great news. Congratulations.”

  Her feelings were genuine, but she wanted him to know that good wishes were as far as she intended to go with her congratulations. Claire signed to emphasize her words. “I appreciate your friendship, Rob. I’m glad to see good things happen for you. You’ve earned—”

  He wrapped his smooth hands around hers to interrupt the message. “Come to dinner with me tomorrow night and let’s celebrate. We’ll go to the Adagio.”

  “I can’t.” She didn’t want to stray too far from home or work and Chief Tucker’s security detail right now. Not until A.J. could tell her something definitive about Galvan’s whereabouts. Besides, joining Rob at Kansas City’s newest four-star restaurant sounded like a serious date. “It wouldn’t be right. I know Dad introduced us, and that you’re hoping—”

  “Do you have that school thing tomorrow night?”

  Claire pinched her lips together to hold on to her patience. Did the man have to interrupt her every time she tried to explain that they would never be more than friends? She pulled her hands free. “The end-of-the-year awards banquet? That was last night.”

  She’d invited him to go with her. He’d turned her down, said he had an engagement he couldn’t get out of.

  “Good. Then you’re free tomorrow night.”

  He missed the point.

  The metallic sound of the doorbell buzzed inside her ears, and Claire danced with the opportunity to escape. “I’d better get that.”

  He moved in closer. “Someone else will.”

  She backed against the banister railing. “This is my house.”

  “I could pick you up right after school. What’s the name of that place? Freeman? Foreman?”

  “The Forsythe School,” Claire snapped, putting up her hands to block his chest from getting any closer to hers. “It’s a private school for the hearing impaired. I’ve worked there a whole year now. I talk about it all the time, not that you listen! You’ve never visited it once. You’ve never asked about the work I do. You do not need to pick me up. I am not going to dinner with you. It’s called the Forsythe—” her temper vanished on one shocked breath “—School.”

  Claire curled her fingers into her palms and broke contact. Saying the name out loud, without knowing where her pin was, without knowing who’d gotten a hold of it, made her feel as if she’d just shouted her name to the world. I belong to that pin. I saw a murder. Dominic Galvan, come and get me.

  And then Claire became aware that she and Rob weren’t alone. Her stepmother, stepsister and two of their Japanese guests had stopped halfway down the grand staircase and were looking over the railing. Deirdre’s arched brow said it all.

  Claire had been yelling. At a guest.

  “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure whom she was apologizing to. Rob? The Japanese gentlemen? Her stepmother?

  To make everything worse, her father had rushed out of the conservatory. “Is everything all right?”

  Gabe, with Cain’s oldest friend and Winthrop vice president, Peter Landers, followed behind him. Cain Winthrop stood in the hallway and stared at her with a look every bit as lost and guilt-ridden as the night they’d sat in the hospital and the doctor had told them she would never regain her hearing, but that there were procedures and therapies his money could buy which would make her life almost normal.

  She barely remembered life any other way. For her, being motherless and hearing impaired was normal. Only, she’d never been able to convince him that she was okay with that. She’d never been able to convince him that she didn’t hold him responsible for her handicap or her mother’s death.

  I’m okay, Dad. She made no sound; she simply signed the words.

  Rob grinned at her, as if his indulgence could erase her humiliation and the pain she felt for her father. “So is that a yes or no to dinner tomorrow?”

  He hadn’t heard a word she’d said, hadn’t clued in to a single bit of body language that screamed, Go away! She’d never slapped a man in her life, but if the gathering crowd wasn’t already too curious, there would have been a first time. “No.”

  A familiar sheen of thick black hair appeared beside Rob. “I think her answer’s clear enough.”

  More startled than she by A.J.’s unexpected arrival, Rob spun around. “Who the hell are you?”

  Claire’s breath rushed out through a smile of relief. A.J. Where had he come from? Why was he here? She was almost ashamed to admit she really didn’t care. “It’s good to see you again,” she signed.

  Finally, someone who took her at her word. Someone who listened.

  “I’ll deal with you in a minute.” Rob dismissed A.J. and blinked his eyes clear to focus on Claire. “Friday, then?”

  A.J. spoke so she could read his lips. “She has plans.”

  He held out his hand to her. Claire hesitated only for a moment. Strong, sandpapery fingers closed around her own, and A.J. pulled her out of the corner. He smelled of rain-dampened leather and easy confidence, and Claire had no problem standing closer to him as he squared off against Rob.

  “This doesn’t concern you. Get out of here before I call security,” Rob demanded.

  “I wouldn’t.”

  Rob seemed taken aback by the abrupt response. A.J. was actually an inch or two shorter than his personally tailored opponent. But his compact body was in better shape than Rob’s, and his brain was stone-cold sober. His refusal to be baited seemed to give Rob second thoughts about demanding anything from him.

  Even Claire backed off half a step at the spooky calm that settled around A.J.’s broad shoulders. She would have pulled away ent
irely if he hadn’t subtly altered his grasp to keep her at his side. He laced his fingers with hers in a grip that zinged along her sensitive palms, giving her the inexplicable feeling this timely rescue had a little bit of personal mixed in with whatever professional motives had brought him here.

  Someone must have said something across the room—her father, no doubt, judging by the way Rob snapped to attention. Then his chin bowed in the slightest of nods. “Detective Rodriguez. My apologies.”

  “Hastings.”

  “What’s going on?” Deirdre’s glare was especially unwelcoming. She smiled to her foreign guests, then marched down the stairs. “Cain, do something about this.”

  Gina seemed to be the only one who didn’t mind the arrival of the party crashers. Her stepsister’s dark eyes glittered as she studied the new arrivals. A sultry pout settled on her lips as she winked and gave her a thumbs-up. “Nice work, Claire.”

  Claire’s cheeks flushed with heat. Surely Gina didn’t think that she and A.J…that he would… Laying a cool hand against her cheek, Claire ducked her head and reminded herself that A.J. was an earthy, experienced man of the world and she was…well…neither of those things.

  But the chaos around her quickly took her out of her own self-conscious thoughts. Gabe argued with the seriously unsmiling blond man at the front door; Rob paced the foot of the stairs and mumbled under his breath. Peter Landers tried to play peacemaker, asking about lawyers and telling Cain not to worry. Deirdre seethed and six curious Japanese gentlemen pointed and chatted amongst themselves at the unfolding soap opera.

  Without warning, that same sensation she’d felt last night when she’d come in from the garage shivered along Claire’s spine. Someone was watching her. Maybe it was her imagination, creating spies where none existed. Or maybe it was the finer development of her nonauditory senses that made her hyperaware. She wrapped a second hand around A.J.’s and swung her gaze around the room, looking for that pair of eyes that would be colder, more hateful than the rest.

  But these were her friends and family—they all loved her. They protected her. They weren’t Central American drug enforcers with a list of murders to complete. They had their own arguments to fight, their own embarrassments to contend with, their own curiosity to appease. The only person actually looking at her was Rob, and she wasn’t sure whether that pained look of resentment qualified as a threat or a pout.

  Still, she couldn’t shake the creepy feeling. A.J. squeezed her fingers and rubbed his thumb across the back of her knuckles, as if she’d transmitted her anxiety into his hand. It was nothing more than a reassuring caress, low between their bodies, hidden from the rest of the guests. But the rough pad of his thumb injected warmth beneath the surface of her skin and short-circuited the fearful chills that had tried to sink their teeth into her.

  He tugged on her hand. “There’s someone I need you to meet.”

  Claire roused herself from her suspicions long enough to fall into step behind him. “Did you find Galvan?” she whispered hopefully.

  The golden eyes told her no. “I wanted to see for myself if Marcus Tucker had made the arrangements I suggested for your protection.” He eyed the uniformed guard at the door. “I’m glad to see he’s beefed up security around here.”

  “He always posts extra guards when we host a party.” Something flashed in those golden eyes, the first glimmer of emotion she’d seen. Her answer didn’t seem to please him. “But Aaron is specifically assigned to me.”

  “Good.” He masked his expression and invited himself into the circle formed by her father, Deirdre, Peter Landers, Gabe and the blond man. “Claire, this is Dwight Powers, one of our assistant district attorneys. He’s taken a particular interest in your report.”

  “Mr. Powers.”

  “Ma’am.” He swallowed up her right hand in a grip as strong and unyielding as the rest of him appeared to be. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but Detective Rodriguez and I agreed that the sooner we could get this under way, the easier it will be to build our case.”

  Claire frowned. “What case?” She looked at Dwight, then to A.J. The comfort she’d felt from the touch of his hand suddenly became a trap. She extricated her fingers from his grip and hugged her arms around her waist. “Did you find Valerie’s body?”

  “No,” the A.D.A. answered. His stormy, gray-green eyes took account of everyone around the room before settling on her father. “If we could have some privacy, sir?”

  “We’re all family here.” Dwight’s gaze returned to the stairs and Cain looked over his shoulder and bit back a curse. Their guests. He turned to his wife. “Deirdre, do you mind?”

  “Cain!” She gestured to A.J. and Dwight, as if they should be the ones asked to leave. But her father couldn’t be swayed. Turning with a huff on her high heels, Deirdre gathered the Japanese visitors. “Shoshiro? Hoshi?”

  She spared one withering glance at Claire—for the ruination of her party, no doubt—before following them into the dining room and closing the door.

  “Rob,” Cain ordered. “You don’t belong here, either.”

  “But I care about Claire as much as anybody here,” he argued.

  “Go.”

  Rob protested his dismissal by forcing a kiss onto Claire’s cheek. “If you need anything, you call me.”

  Claire clenched her fingers to resist the urge to wipe the mark from her face. There was no need to answer him; Rob had already turned his defiant look on his boss. “I’m part of this business, Cain. And one day I will be part of this family.”

  Claire wasn’t volunteering to help him with that goal.

  “C’mon, loverboy.” Gina’s French-tipped nails closed around Rob’s arm, practically petting him in an effort to soothe his temper. She tugged him back toward the dining room. “Don’t worry, Cain. Rob and I will start talking up some of our shipping ideas with Watanabe’s men.”

  “Thank you, Gina. I’m glad to hear someone making sense around here.”

  A simple nod to Aaron got him to step out onto the porch and close the door behind him. When Dwight asked about Peter, Cain shook his head. “He stays. Peter’s my top adviser. He’s been with me longer than anyone in the family.” He held up the document in his hand. “Now tell me what this court order means.”

  “Very well.” Dwight’s deep chest expanded in a calming breath, as if he was about to present himself before a judge. “Dominic Galvan is wanted for murder in five states and four different countries. It goes without saying that when he shows up in Kansas City, both the district attorney and the police commissioner want to find him and put him away.”

  “And how does this quest of yours affect my family?” Cain asked.

  “We believe we can force Galvan to reveal himself.”

  This was good news, right? But Claire was almost afraid to ask. They wanted something from her. That’s why A.J. was here, why he’d played Sir Galahad to help her escape Rob’s overzealous attentions, why he’d held her hand as if he cared. “How?”

  “We’re opening an investigation into the murder of Valerie Justice.”

  Dwight’s announcement sparked another flurry of arguments.

  “Where’s your forensic evidence?” Gabe challenged. “Where’s your body?”

  Peter took a more rational approach. “Cain said he spoke to Valerie last night.” He pulled his glasses down his nose and looked over the top of them at A.J. “Didn’t you speak to her as well, Detective?”

  “I spoke to someone on the phone.” A.J. canted his hips to one side and pulled back the sides of his jacket, revealing his badge as he hooked his thumbs beneath his black leather belt. It was a relaxed stance, but the pinpoint focus of his golden eyes seemed to put her father on guard. “All I have is Mr. Winthrop’s word that the woman’s voice belonged to Ms. Justice. I’ve never met her and there’s no recording to verify her identity.”

  Claire sidled closer to her father. Her lips parted in automatic defense of anyone who called him a liar. They sn
apped shut just as quickly under the intensity of A.J.’s brief glance. She was the one, in essence, calling her father a liar. They couldn’t both be right. He couldn’t have spoken to a dead woman.

  Had the voice on the phone been Galvan’s accomplice? And why wouldn’t her father recognize the woman who’d worked at his side for so many years? Was he ill? In trouble? Covering for someone? Would he lie to discredit her, just to make the problem go away?

  The same way he tried to make her handicap go away?

  Confusion twisted her stomach into knots. She retreated from the circle of family and friends who had always taken such perfect care of her. To some of these people, she was still a lost, lonely little girl. To some, she was window dressing, a decorative prop. To some, she was…oh God. Those golden eyes, filled with apology, had locked on to hers.

  Bait.

  The knot in her stomach slid halfway up her throat and choked her.

  She’d trusted A.J. Became strengthened by his belief in her. She’d wanted to do something useful with her life, serve a purpose. He wanted to use her, all right.

  “You’re launching an investigation based on rumors,” Gabe accused.

  “For God’s sake, Cain,” Peter interrupted, already pulling his cell phone from inside his gray suit. “Call Valerie and put an end to this. I’ll have Marcus fuel up the company jet. We’ll fly her home ourselves.”

  The debate around Claire escalated and overlapped and blurred into one big buzz of indistinguishable noise. Pain spiked through her head, the result of pure stress and fatigue. She was suddenly awash in a sea of faces with moving lips that flapped too fast and made no sense. It was as if her hearing implants had shorted out. Or her patience. Or her sanity.

  She jerked and cried out at the warm vise that cinched itself around her left wrist. She saw it before she recognized it. Darker skin against her own. A.J.’s hand.

  His voice seemed crystal clear.

  “I need to speak to your daughter for a moment. Police business.”