by Debra Erfert
“My job isn’t . . .” Candice rubbed the ache in her temple with two fingers.
“Isn’t what? Dangerous? Was that what you were going to say?” Alex strode around the counter and came to an abrupt stop in front of where she stood. “You could’ve died in that fire, or Devin Metz could’ve killed you—you don’t know if he had a weapon. Or that shooter might’ve had better aim.” He wrapped his arms around her in a sudden unbreakable embrace, tightening her to his chest, his warm breath in her hair.
Alex told her, “Candice, I’ve missed you every day since graduation. I want you, even if it’s just for a single day, but I’m hoping for a lifetime.”
Candice didn’t cry. Ever. It didn’t matter how tough things got, she always made it through with her eyes dried even if her heart was breaking. At least she hadn’t before then. Tears flooded her eyes as her arms wrapped around his chest. “Oh, Alex, I’ve missed you so much.”
She lifted her face toward him just as he lowered his mouth onto hers, sending a sizzling heat rushing through Candice’s body, and making her forget the anguish she’d felt only moments before. In a disorienting tangle of emotions, the concern that she’d had about the danger he faced every day seemed to fade. All she cared about that moment was Alex being in her arms.
Alex let up on the pressure he’d exerted on her mouth so slowly Candice didn’t feel them part. Breathing came in quick gasps for Candice as Alex rested his chin gently on the top of her head. When she opened her eyes, she pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating hard and fast. Candice couldn’t remember being kissed that thoroughly.
“Everything will be all right, you’ll see,” he told her.
“Will it? Can you promise that?” Candice whispered as she gently pushed against his chest, prompting him to release his hold around her. Terrifying, bloody images of her mother and father filled her mind before she could stop them. She knew how quickly a life could be taken away, and whoever was left behind had to deal with the emptiness and heartache that never truly disappeared—even after twenty years.
Wiping the tears off her face with her hand, Candice paced to the couch before turning around. “When you pin on your badge every day, it’s like putting a shiny gold bull’s-eye on your chest. To criminals, it makes you a target. I just don’t know if I could go on living if you were killed.”
Alex walked to the couch and sank down onto the cushion. He took Candice’s hand and tugged until she sat beside him. “Can you honestly tell me that if I died, for any reason, you wouldn’t be affected, even if we never get back together?”
Candice shrugged a single shoulder. “If I never knew about it. As they say, ignorance is bliss.”
“But you aren’t the kind of woman who keeps herself in the dark,” Alex said while pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
Candice shook her head. “Of course not, but I don’t read the obituaries—at least, not every day. Alex, I need to tell you about my parents and how they died.”
Alex took her hand. “I didn’t press you into talking about them. Losing a parent has to be traumatic. You were so young.”
Candice gazed into Alex’s compassionate eyes. “My dad and mom were both San Diego police officers.” She’d never felt comfortable talking about what happened to her parents to anyone. She’d have to make an exception with Alex. He needed to understand.
Alex’s brows pinched together.
Candice continued, steeling her nerves before she could back out. “My dad was killed in the line of duty when I was eight. And my mom was killed two minutes before he was.” She grasped Alex’s hands, trying to gain strength from his touch.
“What?” He sucked in a fast breath. “How?”
“Nineteen years ago, three men decided to rob a San Diego bank in broad daylight. They entered, wearing body armor and carrying fully automatic weapons and left with . . . I can’t remember how much money. But the police were waiting outside—and the robbers were ready for them with armor-piercing bullets that sliced through the cruisers like they were made of rice paper.”
“Oh, Candice,” Alex said, his voice distraught with emotion.
She kept going. “After their getaway vehicle was disabled, they got out and started walking, killing police officers as they went. The bullets fired at the robbers seemed to only disappear into their armor. It didn’t even slow them down.”
Candice looked up into Alex’s horror-filled eyes while her stomach churned and her chest had that too-familiar ache. “My mom drove up into a holocaust. She never pulled her gun before she was shot and killed. She didn’t even make it out of her cruiser. My dad went running over to her, but he didn’t make it before he was shot down.” She took in a deep breath before she said, “The police had to borrow semi-automatic weapons from the closest sporting good shop to better arm themselves; they were so outgunned. By the time the bad guys were finally taken out, eleven police officers had been killed and fourteen wounded. Seven bystanders were killed, and I don’t know how many were hurt.”
“Nine,” Alex quietly said. “News helicopters caught it live almost immediately after it started. I saw it in my last semester at the university. And our department uses it as a training film. I’ve had to see it every year since joining the department.”
“So have I,” Candice whispered even as the bloody scene replayed in her memory.
“What?” Alex said. “When? When could you—” Hemmingway had no words that could describe the distress on his face. Da Vinci couldn’t have painted a more painful expression than what he showed her.
“Same as you—at the university—” she choked out. “A professor ran it. He—he didn’t know.” Candice couldn’t hold it in any longer. She’d dreamed about it too many times and was tired of keeping it to herself. “Oh, Alex,” she cried. “I saw my parents gunned down.”
Alex pulled her into his arms, holding her tighter than he had before. She pushed her arms around his chest, buried her face against his neck, and finally cried for the tragic loss of her parents. It wasn’t until that class that Candice really knew what had happened to them. She was only told they had died while on duty. An eight-year-old didn’t know enough to ask questions, but she recognized her mother’s curly dark hair as her head fell against the shattered driver’s window in the video.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” Alex told her over and over again while she cried.
Chapter 13
AN HOUR LATER, Alex had Candice in his truck and was heading to the Phoenix Police Department to go on the warrant and then use Detective Adams’s computer to search for arson reports. She said the detective owed her a favor, and she was calling it in. The excitement Alex felt with getting back together went beyond being ecstatic. His life seemed to be falling into place, a life that had been missing its biggest piece: love.
“Are you sure you’re all right, sweetheart?” Alex asked. He rested his hand on her knee while speeding up the entrance to the freeway.
Candice lowered her phone to gaze at him. She’d been typing since they started toward the department. “I’m still a bit embarrassed for crying so much.” She smiled at him enough to produce a small dimple near her mouth.
“Don’t be,” Alex told her. “At least now I understand why you avoided the badge like it carried the plague, and me when I applied for the police department.” He inhaled a deep, sympathetic breath. “I can’t blame you for wanting to stay clear. My uniform reminded you of your parents’ deaths.”
The only acknowledgement she gave was a subtle nod, so he changed the subject.
“Are you writing your report for the Leavitts?”
Candice told him, “I wrote a preliminary report. I’ll finish it after the search warrants are served. I need to know what Patrick finds, if anything. I also texted my contact with Verizon to get Mr. Leavitt’s cell phone records sent to me.”
She seemed to have contacts everywhere. Alex tapped his fingers on her knee. “To find out better what I do in a ni
ght’s work, would you be willing to go on a ride-along with me tonight? You could sit in on briefing and get to know my backup.”
“I went on ride-alongs for several days, just like you did. It was part of the curriculum. I disagreed with practically everything the officer told me, and she had the personality of a cold snail.”
Alex chuckled. “But this time you’d be with me, and as you know, I am not a hypothermic slug. The department encourages spouses to ride. It might alleviate some of your fears.”
Candice said slowly, deliberately, “I’m not your wife, but I guess that might be a good idea.” She lifted her phone again. “Beachwood Security is on our way to the station. I need to make arrangements for security guards and an electric gate for the driveway.”
“Sure, we can do that. My shift starts at four. You might even get in a short nap before then.”
~*~
“There’s our destination—on the right,” Candice said, pointing out the windshield. She hardly needed to do say anything; the truck’s GPS had the address pinned to the screen.
“Beachwood Security looks like a pretty big outfit,” Alex said.
Candice said, “Security is a big industry around a city as large as Phoenix. After all, you guys can’t be everywhere.”
Alex agreed. “I know. What do you think I did while waiting to be hired by the department?”
“You were a rent-a-cop?” she asked in mock surprise.
“Yeah, for all of four months.” He pulled into the parking lot and found the closest space. “It got me used to graveyard shift, which I was destined to have for two years after I got out of the police academy. Hold on. I’ll open your door.” Alex rushed around the front of the truck to her door.
“I’m glad you stayed in Phoenix,” Candice told him, climbing out of the truck.
“Me, too,” Alex said, taking her hand, intertwining their fingers and holding it gently in his as they strolled up to the office door. Once inside, a young woman, about twenty-five, greeted them from behind a shiny glass counter.
“Hi, may I help you?” the woman asked.
While the modern furniture decorating the lobby smelled like new leather, the woman most certainly did not. If fact, if she wore any more lavender-scented body spray, the bees would be building a hive in her overly teased blonde hair. Actually, the mix of the two smells wasn’t too unpleasant. She stood straight with confidence and was dressed professionally in a suit.
“Yes,” Candice said, meeting her at the counter. “I’m interested in getting security for my place.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “And what exactly are you looking for? An alarm system for your home?”
“That,” Candice said, “and I would like to have an electronic security gate installed at the entryway to my property, with remote cameras and sensors linked to the main house. And until they can be installed, I need twenty-four-hour guards at the entryway with at least one guard patrolling the grounds.”
It took the poor woman a few moments to digest the gravity of her order. Once the dollar signs began to add up, the smile that had dissolved from her pretty face reappeared larger than before.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said enthusiastically. “My name if Mandy Augusta. I’ll be happy to help you with your order. May I ask who referred you to our agency?”
“It was one of your employees, Daryl Vanderguard.” The mention of his name must have struck a harmonious chord to the cheerful woman. Her smile became warmer and her light brown eyes sparkled.
“Oh, Daryl! Yes, he’s been with us for just a few months. He’s done so well. Too bad he wants to leave us and go to the police department and be an ordinary patrolman. He could have such a bright future with us,” Mandy chirped as she carried two thick books around the counter. After she set them down on the glass coffee table in front of a leather couch, she held out her thin hand and asked, “What is your name?”
Candice took out her PI ID from her jacket pocket and held it out with one hand while shaking Mandy’s hand with the other. “My name is Candice Shane. I’m a private investigator.” Candice glanced at Alex. “And this is Officer Alexander Delaney, Phoenix PD.” The smile Mandy wore flickered moments before her skin took on a lovely shade of pink. Yeah, Candice meant to embarrass her. It was kind of mean of her, but the woman started it.
“Nice to meet you,” Mandy said, releasing her hand. “Are you here on a case, Ms. Shane?”
“No, Mandy, I’m here exactly for the reasons that I just said. It’s actually to protect clients of mine.”
“Oh!” she said, nodding. She must’ve been satisfied with her answer. Mandy glanced briefly at Alex before she sat down and opened the first catalog. “Let’s start with the interior security system. Do you know what you want?”
“Not exactly,” Candice said, lowering herself onto the cushion beside Mandy. “But something that can be set in individual areas would be good.”
Mandy took the pen attached to a pad of paper with the company logo embellished on the top off the coffee table. “How many square feet?”
“Eleven,” Candice said.
“Eleven hundred square feet,” Mandy repeated while she wrote down the number.
“Eleven thousand, in the main house,” Candice corrected her. “Not including the twenty-one-hundred-square-foot guesthouse and twelve-hundred-square-foot pool house set on forty acres.” She thought she saw the woman swallow hard a couple of times before she spoke.
“Is this a . . . a private home?” Mandy asked carefully. Candice could tell she didn’t want to insult her—again.
“Yes, it is,” Candice said. “It’s my grandfather’s home. He went a little overboard when he designed it. I inherited it when he passed away.”
“Um, how are you going to, uh, finance this, Ms. Shane?”
Candice pulled out her credit card and asked, “Do you take VISA?”
Alex whispered in her hear, “I take it that card doesn’t have a limit.”
“You are correct,” she whispered just as softly.
The woman’s smile returned. It took another thirty minutes before the essentials were ordered and a hefty down payment made. Mandy made the arrangements for three sets of two security guards to man the grounds starting at noon today. Candice requested Daryl be assigned there for one of the shifts. She knew Liz would appreciate it, especially when Candice sent her to check up on them this afternoon.
It would take several days for the custom metal gates to be made by a local craftsman and then installed, but the electronics surveillance cameras that were going to be hidden throughout the landscaping would start coming in today, along with the alarms. The job would take a week to complete. Mandy pushed her order to the head of the line. She was very efficient indeed.
On the drive to the station, Candice texted Meagan to warn her about the installations. She seemed anxious about strangers knowing they were there. But it was necessary for their safety. Having the guards should help lift some of her worry.
Alex parked in the officers’ secure parking area near the back entrance.
“I hope we didn’t miss out on the search,” Candice said, stuffing her iPad into its compartment in her trusty backpack. She didn’t want to get left behind. It wasn’t every day a civilian got invited to go on a search warrant. “And I hope Detective Adams will be in his office this afternoon.”
“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “I’ll make sure you have access to a computer.”
“You won’t get into trouble?”
“I might, but I think my career can handle a little trouble now and then,” he said. “I think Detective Donovan might even let you sit in his office and work at his computer.”
~*~
“It’s about time you showed up, Ms. Shane,” Patrick said.
“I’m sorry, Patrick,” Candice told him, coming into his office. “I’m glad you’re not gone yet.” He didn’t acknowledge her, but instead he picked up his desk phone and dialed a number. It took a moment before he spoke.
“Hello, this is Detective Patrick Donovan for Judge Kravitz . . . thank you.” He looked at Candice and pointed to the chair next to his desk. “Sit, please.”
Candice glanced at Alex and then did as he requested. She suddenly felt like she had walked into her high school principal’s office again. She suppressed a giggle at the serious scowl Patrick had on his face. To her, he wasn’t on the phone with Judge Kravitz, but he was listening to Grandfather giving him an earful about not stepping on her free spirit. Alex leaned against the door jam and shrugged his broad shoulders like he didn’t have a clue on what happened.
“Hello, sir . . . Yes, sir, she’s right here.” Patrick pushed the speaker button before placing the phone on its cradle. “Judge John Kravitz for you, Ms. Shane,” he said, standing up.
“For me,” Candice mouthed silently. Patrick gave her an exasperated expression when she didn’t immediately start talking. “Okay,” she whispered before she raised her voice to a normal level. “Hello?”
“Candy! Is that you?” Judge Kravitz’s voice didn’t sound as old as her great-uncle, but it was close. John Kravitz was one of Uncle Homer’s best friends.
“Hi, John, it’s me. How’re you doing?” Candice said, smiling.
“Just a little arthritis in the knuckles. Keeps me from hitting the greens as much as I’d like to.”
Candice leaned closer to the speaker. “That’s understandable. What do I owe this call to?”
“I had a call from Detective Donovan about a search warrant on a couple of juveniles. He said you connected fingerprints with a crime. Tell me about it.”
“Sure,” Candice said, glancing up at Patrick. “Yesterday I was hired by Kyle and Meagan Leavitt, victims of a house fire on San Marcos Drive this past Monday, and I found a complete set of fingerprints from the left hand on the circuit breaker box outside the garage and a single left thumb print from inside the front doorknob, also a right thumb print from the exterior doorknob. I followed a lead I received from the on-duty security guard at that property. He saw two boys, about ten years old, try to get into the garage. He stopped them from entering and then they ran off down the street. He continued to watch them as they ran into a house across the street. I interviewed the boys that afternoon and caught them in a couple of lies.”
