The Evasion

by Adrienne Giordano

The task force work gave him a rush, no doubt. Work wise, it had been a solid move because it put him in direct contact with the mayor of New York, a man who could fast-track Gabe’s career. Right now though, he wasn’t sure if he liked the assignment because it was good for his career or because it let him hang around Jo.

  Later. He set his hand flat on the door and pushed. “Let’s see what’s what.”

  A bell jangled as the door swung wide.

  “Afternoon, folks.” A barrel-chested, balding guy—mid-fifties easy—came around a desk tucked into an alcove on the right side.

  Career cops, wherever they came from, had a certain way of moving. A self-assuredness that became a defining factor easily recognized by other cops.

  Gabe glanced around at the cavernous space. Church pews had been replaced with desks and metal cabinets, but the marble floors and ceiling fresco of angels and a robed woman remained. The idea of processing a murderer or a junkie under a ceiling depicting what looked like a woman’s ascent into heaven was just plain bizarre.

  Jo strode toward the man and extended her hand. “Hello. I’m Jo Pomeroy. Are you Sheriff Connelly?”

  Like most red-blooded men, the sheriff took in Jo’s long legs and the silk blouse she’d buttoned back to a professional level, as opposed to the screw-me-stupid level Gabe enjoyed. This might be fun to watch. If this sheriff didn’t cut the crap, Jo would hit him with a remark sharp enough to slice his balls off.

  One at a time.

  On cue, she circled her finger around her face. “Right here, Sheriff. Come on now, up you go.”

  Atta, girl.

  The man’s head snapped from the middle button on her shirt to her face.

  “Much better,” she said.

  Gabe puffed out his cheeks because, damn, it was hard not to laugh.

  “Sorry, ma’am.” The sheriff grasped her hand but released it quickly. No lingering after she’d made that first nick into his balls. “Welcome.”

  Gabe held his hand out. “Gabe Townsend.”

  The sheriff shook his hand. Not too hard, but enough to exert some power. “Sergeant, right? Emergency Services?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s gotta be somethin’”

  “It’s not dull.”

  The sheriff waved them to his desk in the freaky alcove. Damned sheriff’s office in a church. The whole thing gave Gabe the willies. He needed white walls, cracked ceilings, linoleum floors and interview rooms that held secrets most people couldn’t comprehend.

  “Have a seat.”

  “You alone here?” Gabe asked.

  “I am. Deputy is out on patrol. Receptionist leaves at five. We have a regional S.W.A.T. team here. Men from different towns in the area. Don’t have much call for them, but they train hard.”

  Gabe didn’t see a need to respond. His only job here was to make sure the sheriff had whatever he needed and not get into a pissing match over who the better officer was. Really, he just wanted to capture Martinson and go home.

  Without preamble, Jo flung the counterfeit Barelli on the desk. It landed with a whap and the sheriff jumped.

  And here we go…

  The sheriff glanced down at the bag, then back to her. “Well, that sure is a nice bag.”

  Prepare to lose a nut, pal.

  “Actually, no, it’s not,” she said. “You may recall from our earlier conversation that I’m an intellectual property attorney. One of my clients is Barelli Incorporated. Are you familiar with them?”

  “Heard the name.”

  “Yes. They’re a huge fashion company.” She tapped the knockoff bag. “This is a counterfeit Barelli. Whoever made this bag is responsible for copyright infringement. We need to stop them, Sheriff.”

  Connelly pulled a notepad from his desk drawer. “Right. You mentioned you’re looking for a fella.”

  Gabe sat forward. “Donald Martinson. He’s wanted in New York.”

  “And you think he’s here?”

  “We do. An informant indicated Mr. Martinson has family here and is hiding.”

  Connelly rolled his bottom lip. “Haven’t seen anyone new.” He made a note. “Let me check around.”

  As expected, this good ol’ boy wasn’t in a rush. He’d be losing his second nut any time now.

  “Thank you, Sheriff. We’ll also need to question the owner of the boutique across the square. She’s breaking the law by selling fake goods.”

  “Oh, hold on here. That’s Ellie. She’s a good girl. She probably doesn’t even know.”

  Gabe leaned forward. “That could be true, sir. Either way, she’s got to shut it down. Ms. Pomeroy is an expert on identifying counterfeits. She’d be happy to relieve Ellie of any illegal items.”

  The sheriff gave him a look. And it wasn’t friendly. Nope, this was more get-the-fuck-outta-my-town. “I’ll talk to her. See where she bought it. I’m sure she’s been duped.”

  “If that’s the case,” Jo said, “it’s unfortunate. She could be charged with a crime.”

  “Now hold on here. This is my town.”

  Jo blew that off. “Unless, of course, she’s willing to cooperate and help us catch the smuggler. Then she’d be a hero.”

  Gabe grinned. My girl. The sheriff didn’t look too good though. He’d gone straight-out green.

  “Give me until morning to get into this. I’ll talk to Ellie.”

  Gabe studied the sheriff, who obviously didn’t want Jo stomping through his playground. Maybe he’d help the guy out and convince her to let the man do his job.

  “Of course, sir,” she said. “It’s getting late anyway. Sergeant Townsend and I have an appointment at the Port Authority in the morning.”

  They did? Gabe shot her a look. So much for her laying low and letting the locals handle this.

  “Hey, now. Let’s not get too crazy here, little lady.”

  Little lady. Gabe sighed.

  The sheriff stood—a clear announcement that this meeting was over. “You let me handle it. I’ll let you know if we need help. You folks at the hotel?”

  Jo pulled her card and a pen from her briefcase. “We are. I’ll give you my number so you can reach this little lady anytime.”

  Second nut, gone. She wrote her number on the back of her card and handed it over.

  Gabe stood, smacked his hands together. “We’re all set here then.”

  “We are indeed,” Jo said. “Thank you, Sheriff. I’m sure we’ll get this wrapped up quickly and you’ll help us put a smuggler behind bars. I have no doubt.”

  She charged down the church—sheriff’s office—steps and hooked a right. “Come with me.” Jo was already twenty yards in front of him and picking up speed. “We need to get over there before he calls Miss Ellie.”

  Gabe hustled to catch up. “You’re gonna piss this guy off. What’s this about an appointment at the Port?”

  She stopped walking and faced him. “I lied about that. And I don’t care if I piss him off. Staring at my boobs is one thing. Little lady? That, I won’t tolerate. The sooner we get on this, the sooner we find Martinson and get home.”

  For once, in the interest of expediency, he wouldn’t argue with her about wanting to be involved. Investigating on their own would land both of them in hot water. Something neither of them could risk after the lambasting they’d received six weeks ago when their investigation ended with Jo stuck in a burning building and Gabe threatening a witness. Not a stellar day that one.

  Gabe held his hand up. “I’m all for busting this guy and getting the hell out, but we need to be careful, do it quietly.”

  “Excellent. We need a plan.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m a quick thinker. Follow my lead.”

  Two minutes later they re-entered Ellie’s store. The doorbells jangled and she wandered from the back room.

  “Hello again. Back so soon?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He glanced down at Jo, brushed his fingers over the back of her neck, stroked the warm skin with his thumb and made goo-goo
eyes at her.

  Ellie let out a little sigh. “Y’all are so sweet.”

  Figuring he’d laid it on thick enough, Gabe gave up on goo-gooing. “I adore this woman.” Not a lie. “She is, in fact, the love of my life.” Also, perhaps not a lie. “And I think she needs another Barelli bag. In a different color.”

  He glanced around, knowing from his earlier study of the premises, there weren’t any other bags in the front of the store.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s the only color I have.”

  “Oh, shoot,” Jo said.

  Gabe gave her neck a squeeze. “Don’t worry. Something tells me Ellie will get you another.” He turned back to Ellie, offered up one of the smiles that, more times than not, helped him score with a woman. “How about it? Will you make my girl happy?”

  Ellie bit her lip. “Well—”

  “I’ll make it worth your while. As you can see, my girl is well dressed. She enjoys shopping. A lot. Just ask my credit card company.”

  She seemed to consider this a moment, staring at him as his meaning drifted, drifted, drifted and—bull’s-eye—her eyes flew open. “Let me make a call.”

  Cha-ching. You do that, sweetheart.

  In a rush, Ellie spun and headed for the cash register toward the back of the store. The two of them followed and watched her flick through her Rolodex, one of those old circular ones with cards busting out all over. Jeez, they still made cards for that thing? After finding the card, she picked up the cordless and dialed.

  Jo stared up at Gabe and blew him a kiss. Heh. She seemed to be enjoying all of this PDA, considering they didn’t get to do it in New York. Not if they didn’t want the old ladies on Gabe’s team talking shit all day. And one thing Jo didn’t deserve was a bunch of guys making crude comments, ribbing Gabe day and night because he was banging the sexy attorney. Plus, he’d wind up killing someone and that would be bad for both their careers.

  Ellie clicked off the call. “There’s no answer at my supplier. I got the recording. How about I try them in the morning? Maybe y’all can stop back?”

  Gabe nodded, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Not until he got a look at that number on the phone. “That’s too bad.” He gave Jo another squeeze. “Ellie has been so gracious, why don’t you look for something else while we’re here.”

  Jo made her eyes dumb-blonde big. “Really?”

  That was him. The sugar daddy. “You bet. I rushed you earlier. Maybe you’ll find something special.” He dragged his hand across the upper part of her chest, where a modest amount of skin peeked out. His body fired and her eyes went berserk in that what-the-fuck way she was so good at. “Ellie,” he said, “got anything naughty my girl will like?”

  Town like this didn’t have a lingerie store. If they did, the church ladies would probably boycott it just to prove they didn’t have impure thoughts. Of course, this would all occur after their husbands dressed in leather chaps and smacked a whip against the headboard. Yeah, town like this, they kept the smut in the back room.

  “How naughty?” Ellie wanted to know.

  He turned to the shop owner. “Make me howl.”

  The woman’s gaze dropped to his crotch and Jo made a gagging sound. How funny was that?

  “I have just the thing.”

  Jo tugged his T-shirt. “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “Not yet, I haven’t.”

  “Right this way.” Ellie stormed through a curtained doorway. “The fitting room is in the back. I’ll get you settled and bring you some things to look at.”

  As soon as the women were out of the room, Gabe snatched the phone from the desk and hit redial. Come to daddy. The number scrolled on the screen and he swiped a piece of scratch paper and a pen from the counter.

  Gotcha.

  What he had, who knew, but that had never stopped him before. They’d have to fly under the radar or his buddy the sheriff would be pissed.

  Ellie emerged from the back room just as Gabe tucked the phone number in his pocket. Good timing, that.

  “I found some lovely things for her to try. I think you’ll be happy.”

  Little did Ellie know Gabe’s favorite outfit on Jo was her birthday suit. Call him crazy but sexy to him was just plain naked.

  “Y’all passing through?” Once again, Ellie eyed him. Not a big deal. Women did shit like that all the time. He’d grown used to it, used it to his advantage.

  He smiled. “How’d you guess?”

  “The accents give it away some. New York?”

  Sorry. No dice. Ellie might have that southern charm going for her, but she was certifiable if she thought he’d tell her where they were from.

  “We needed a vacation,” he said, ignoring her inquiry. “We’re road-tripping. Not sure where exactly we’re going, but here we are.”

  “Oh, that sounds fun. To just up and leave.”

  The curtain separating the back room from the store flew open and Jo stepped through wearing her regular clothes.

  “What? No fashion show?”

  “Relax. You’ll get a fashion show.” She set something red, silky and skimpy on the counter. “We’ll take this one.”

  But when she dug into her purse for her wallet, Gabe stepped up. Maybe they were playing a role or maybe it was a turning point in their relationship, but they’d spent so much damned time hiding from their bosses that he’d never bought her lingerie. Suddenly, he wanted to.

  He put his hand over hers. “I’ve got this.”

  “No. I want to.”

  They’d never discussed their personal finances in detail, but any idiot would know a lawyer of her caliber made more than a cop. He gave her the look. The one that sent the guys under his command scattering. “Honey, I’m buying.”

  She stared up at him a minute, clearly contemplating an argument because that’s what she did. Argued, debated, challenged. All good things generally. Between the two of them, they were goofy that way. They got off on the conflict. Their own brand of wacky foreplay.

  Jo backed off. Physically took a step away from the counter. “Okay, sailor. You got it.”

  Whether she understood his wanting to buy her a gift or simply chose not to do battle, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d chalk it up to a win. Where Jo was concerned, he didn’t win very often.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Anything for you, honey.”

  And God help him, she batted her eyes, completely charming Ellie. Maybe that fluttering thing worked for some women. Jo? Not a chance. He hated it on her. He wanted her tough and clawing.

  What kind of freak was he? Not exploring it.

  Ellie rang up the lingerie and he grabbed the bag. Holy smokes, his budget couldn’t take too much of that. Another thing he’d have to get used to—Jo probably made as much in one day as he made in a week. She could afford to pay a hundred bucks for lingerie. Him? No way. Suck it up, pal. “Thanks for your help, Ellie.”

  “Y’all come back and see us again.”

  Oh, we will, Ellie. We will. It just wouldn’t be to purchase lingerie.

  Chapter Four

  “You sneaky devil!” Jo grinned at Gabe after he admitted to scamming the supplier’s number from Ellie’s phone.

  I adore this man.

  Hand in hand, they strolled down Main Street, passing the closed pharmacy and bakery on their way back to their rental car. The evening air was thick and moist and heavy and for some reason, Jo liked it. Maybe it was the lack of chaos and noise. Small town quiet versus screaming sirens and traffic.

  Across the street a couple had taken over a bench by the huge pond in the town square. In the center of the pond was a brass statue that poked at Jo’s curiosity. She’d have to wander by to see who the statue represented.

  Her curiosity also went to the couple on the bench. The man was stretched flat, his head in the woman’s lap. Jo considered steering Gabe in that direction. Why not? At home, they didn’t have the luxury of holding hands and stretching out on a bench. Too much risk of gettin
g caught.

  Now that she’d had a taste of freedom when it came to their relationship, she resented all the secrecy.

  “I needed something to do while you were in the dressing room,” Gabe said.

  Jo focused on him, watched his lips move and in her mind replayed where they were in the conversation. Ah, the phone number. “I’d say you made good use of your time, sergeant.”

  He squeezed her hand and she glanced down, took in his long fingers. Fingers that, before today, she only held behind closed doors because they were too terrified—yes, the big, bad ESU sergeant was terrified—their bosses would toss one of them off the task force.

  For now, they were in tiny Leeville where only the sexist sheriff knew their identities and, damn it, Jo wanted to hold her man’s hand. Wasn’t a lot to ask. She lifted their joined hands, kissed the back of his. There. Affection in public. The horrors.

  “Careful,” Gabe said. “I might start to enjoy all this domesticity.”

  As usual, their thoughts had aligned. Amazing how that happened. Even when they disagreed about work, their minds were in perfect tune. “Exactly!”

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking I never get to touch you unless we’re in private. I like holding your hand. Makes me realize what we don’t have at home. It bothers me. Like we’re doing something wrong. What we have together isn’t wrong.”

  “I agree. But there’s not much we can do about it.”

  Unless one of them left the task force. And they weren’t deluding themselves. If one of them left, it would be Gabe. Jo was the driving force on project Clean Sweep. She’d been the one to badger the mayor into forming the task force. She had the manufacturer contacts. And she had the passion for it. Not that Gabe wasn’t dedicated, but he didn’t live and breathe Clean Sweep like she did. He just wanted to be good at his job. At least that’s what he told her.

  If it came down to it and they had to choose, he’d be the one to leave the task force. She knew that. He’d give up a position that put him in the mayor’s path every day. A position that showcased his excellent tactical and management skills and would earn him a promotion to lieutenant in the not-so-distant future. In the land of goals and dreams, Jo knew Gabe wanted to make lieutenant by the time he was thirty-five.