Cover Me

by Margaret Watson

  His shoulders relaxed. Okay. She was teasing him. "Yeah. Or a dumb-ass."

  "Which are you, Donovan?" she said, and this time the smile extended to her eyes.

  "Think I have to plead the fifth on that."

  Her gaze dropped to her hands in her lap. "Olivia's a smart woman. She wouldn't do what we did."

  Shame flickered through him. What we did. She made it sound like a complete screw up. Careless. Thoughtless. The kind of mistake a couple of clueless kids might have made.

  She was right. It had been a reaction to Cujo's shooting, but it was still a bad call. Unprofessional. A few minutes of sex, even though they were spectacular minutes, had jeopardized their partnership. He glanced at Cilla out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry."

  Her knuckles whitened. "I know. I am, too." She looked up at him. "I like working with you, Brendan. I don't want to wreck that."

  "Me, either. And we won't." He needed to touch her. To reassure her. Himself, too. So he nudged her shoulder with his. "I like working with you too much to mess it up. Okay? I'll think before I act from now on."

  "That would...that would be good." She narrowed her eyes to a fierce glare. "And you'll wear your damn vest from now on, too. Fastened. Even for a damn traffic stop."

  Remembering Greg Harrison's shattered expression, he nodded. "Yeah. I will. Every time."

  "Good. Thank you."

  She was thanking him for doing what anyone with any sense would do automatically. "No. Thank you. Someone needs to slap me around sometimes."

  That hint of a smile finally flickered across her face as she relaxed her shoulders. "I think I can handle that assignment."

  "Great. You're hired."

  She picked up her water glass and drank deeply, then set it carefully on the table. Taking a deep breath, then letting it out, she straightened. "So. What did you find at the pub after they took the victim away?"

  "You sure you want to do this tonight, Cilla? We can put this off until tomorrow if you want to see your sister."

  "No." she shook her head, and caramel-colored waves shivered over her shoulders. "We're here, let's do this. I...I may have to work on some other stuff for a while tomorrow."

  "Okay." He wanted to help her. But he didn't want to intrude on family problems. He fidgeted with the menu to keep himself from reaching for her. "So after we went back into the pub, I checked all the people I'd been watching. All still there. Tiffany – the blond," he clarified. "Holly, the woman who sits and drinks alone. Romano. Only one missing was the woman chatting Romano up. Who, by the way, went out of her way not to let me see her face."

  Cilla's gaze shot to his. "Really? Could they both be involved?"

  "He moved higher on my list," Brendan admitted. "There's something off about the guy, and when the woman went to so much trouble to keep her face hidden, it set off some alarms."

  She leaned against the back of the booth and took a long drink of water. "I'm betting you eventually got a look."

  "Course I did. What am I, a rookie?" He gave her a half-smile, happy that in-control, business-like, competent Cilla was back. The vulnerable, upset Cilla made him want to take care of her. Help her. And that made him nervous. "Not a full-on view, but enough that I can probably spot her in a picture."

  "You going to take care of that tomorrow?"

  "Yeah. First thing. I tried to get a photo of her to run through the facial recognition software, but I couldn't get a good angle." He frowned, still trying to figure it out. "Interesting though. Right before the break, that woman walked away from Romano. I never saw her again. But Romano went over and talked to Holly."

  One eyebrow rose. "Yeah? Had he ever talked to her before?"

  "I've never seen them together."

  "Okay." Cilla drummed her fingers on the table. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find a picture of her." She shifted in the seat and half-turned to look at him. "What about the report from the cops and the EMT's? See any of that yet?"

  "No, but I figure Sobieski and her partner are probably still on patrol. EMT's might be on another emergency. I'll check tomorrow. I did call the hospital. The guy is still unconscious. Got a name, though. Steven O'Dwyer. The girlfriend is Penny Adams. I'll run them tomorrow, too."

  "Let me do that. You'll be busy looking for Romano's mystery woman."

  He shook his head. He wanted to touch her, offer some comfort, but he curled his hand into his lap. She was focusing on the case.

  He should be, too. And after his promise to act more professionally, touching her was the last thing he should be doing.

  "I've got the stiffy and his girlfriend. You'll be busy with your sister," he said. "It's about time I put in an honest day's work instead of hanging around a bar and watching a beautiful woman."

  "Yeah? Tiffany's that attractive?" she said.

  She actually smiled as she said it, and he took a deep breath. If she could joke with him, her sister's situation couldn't be that bad.

  "Didn't mean the blond, and you know it." His burger arrived, and he cut it in half, then began eating. "You need to leave?" he asked after swallowing the first bite. "I don't mind eating alone."

  "Thanks," she said, her voice soft. Her eyes were soft, too. "I appreciate that. But I'll stay. Keep you company. And if I stay here for a while, let myself calm down, maybe I won't go off half-cocked tonight. Which would be good. Prevent some bloodshed."

  He paused with the burger halfway to his mouth. "You're planning on inflicting bodily harm on your sister? What the hell did she do?"

  "Not my sister. The douchebag." She pressed her lips together, closed her eyes and shook her head. "Sorry. Wasn't going to dump that on you."

  "Go ahead and dump. I have a sister, too. I'm the one she calls when she needs to download crap."

  "Yeah? Why you?"

  "I'm the next youngest. And I screw up regularly. She knows I won't judge."

  Cilla glanced at him, a laugh lighting her eyes. "You? Screwing up? Can't imagine that."

  "Hard to believe, I know. But somehow I manage."

  Cilla played with the rolled-up napkin holding silverware, spinning it around until it jumped off the table. She caught it and shoved it across the table. "There's this guy. One I don't like. And he did something to my sister tonight that makes me really, really angry."

  "Shit." He dropped the burger on his plate, wiped his hands and raised one, scanning the area for their waitress. "Did he hurt her badly? Do we need to arrest his ass?"

  "What? No." She pulled his hand down, but left hers on top of it. She slid her fingers between his for a moment, then let him go. He missed her touch and wanted to snatch her hand back, but he pressed his fingers into the table instead.

  "Then what did he do? If you want to talk about it. It won't go any farther, Cilla. I promise. But if you need an ear...?"

  She sighed and shoved a hand through her hair. The waves tumbled over her shoulders, and she looked as though she'd just gotten out of bed.

  Brendan closed his eyes. This 'being responsible' business was going to be tough.

  She hadn't noticed his reaction, thank God. She was staring at the table. "He went through her briefcase," Cilla sighed. "Said he was looking for her phone because he thought he heard it ring. But Livvy isn't buying it. She's not sure why he was in her stuff, but she's angry. Upset. Nervous about what he might have found."

  "Which is...?"

  "She had files from the office. Cases she's working on. Stuff that shouldn't be seen by anyone outside the State's Attorney's office."

  "So what did you tell her to do?"

  "To kick the guy out. Which she said she'd already done." Her fingers tightened into a fist. "I know where he lives, though. Which is why I want to stay here for a while. So I don't do something rash."

  "Something done in defense of your sister is never rash."

  "It is when you're a cop," she said wearily.

  He took another bite of his burger, but his eyes never left her face. "What's the plan, then?"
<
br />   "I'm going to her place early tomorrow, before she leaves for work, and I'm getting the names from all the cases in those files. I'm going to look them up, then see if I can connect any of them to the douchebag."

  He frowned, glanced at her as he chewed. Once he swallowed, he said, "Can't she do that herself? If she's an ADA, she has access to the same databases we use."

  Cilla rolled her shoulders and kept her gaze on the table. "I've, ah, always kind of looked out for Olivia. Sam, too. Our mother...," She sighed. "Our mother's sister needed a lot of help when we were young, and our mom was usually at Aunt Jessie's. My dad was always working. So I kind of got used to being the go-to person."

  "She's an adult now," he pointed out.

  She glanced at him. "Yeah. But some habits are hard to break."

  For Cilla? Or for her sister?

  "Okay. You need some help with the grunt work? I'm good at that."

  She smiled briefly, but it looked forced. Weary. "Not sure Livvy wants to get anyone else involved."

  She got you involved. "Doesn't hurt to ask. If she's okay with it, I'm good to go. We have all day tomorrow, and it won't take long to find the reports from last night and look for the mystery woman."

  "Okay. I will. Thank you." She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then closed her eyes for a long moment.

  When she opened them again, the shadows had receded. She eyed the half of the burger and few fries remaining on his plate. "You gonna eat that?"

  He pushed the plate toward her. "Help yourself."

  * * *

  The next morning, Cilla took a deep, settling breath outside her sister's door. Then she rapped softly.

  A few moments later, Livvy opened the door. She wore a ragged tee-shirt that said Miami Ohio and a pair of old running shorts, and her hair, so similar to Cilla's, was uncombed. "Cill?" Her eyebrows rose. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour? You look exhausted."

  "Yeah, late night, but I wanted to catch you before you left for work." She peered into her sister's cup. "You have any more of that coffee?"

  "Yeah. Come on in. I was just getting into the shower."

  "Go ahead. I'll make myself at home and enjoy your apartment."

  Olivia slipped into the bathroom, and Cilla poured coffee and wandered over to the balcony door. Her sister lived in a high rise with a view of Lake Michigan, and Cilla never got tired of the scenery. The early autumn morning was warm, and even at 7AM there were sailboats dotting the lake's calm surface. Sunrise had splashed pinks and oranges on the mirror-like lake, and she sipped her coffee and let the panorama calm her.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Livvy emerged from her bedroom, dressed in a black suit and emerald green silk shirt. "Looking sharp, Ms. Assistant State's Attorney," Cilla teased.

  "And you look like a grease monkey," Livvy retorted, letting her gaze drift over her sister's clothes. "Really, Cill? Jeans and a white button down? Could you be any more bland?"

  "I'm at my desk today. No one is going to care what I wear. And I am a grease monkey. When I get the chance." The Mustang needed some work. She'd make time to get it done this week.

  "Have you gotten tired of being a cop yet? You could use your psychology degree as a lawyer, too. Go to law school at night and then come work for us. Help us put the bad guys away."

  Cilla had had this argument with her sister before and didn't have the energy for it this morning. After only getting a few hours sleep last night, she just shook her head. "Come on, Liv. Are you forgetting that no bad guys get put away until the cops catch them?" She set her coffee on the coffee table and threw herself onto the couch. "Tell me what happened last night."

  Olivia nodded, acknowledging the unspoken 'not now'. She settled into the chair across from the couch and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. "I was in the bathroom. When I came out, James was going through my briefcase." A muscle in her jaw twitched as she glanced at the black leather bag on her desk. "Really pissed me off."

  Cilla bit her lip to keep from telling Livvy what she thought of James Dugger. Her sister already knew. Cilla hadn't hesitated to share her opinion of the jerk. "What made you think he was going through your papers?"

  "The dumbass said my phone rang. I checked it, and I hadn't gotten any phone calls. So I told him to get out. He said it must have been the neighbor's phone." Livvy rolled her eyes. "He was in my briefcase, and he wasn't even smart about it. He left, but not before I told him not to come back." She shoved one hand through her still-wet hair. "I'm really afraid he got a look at those files, Cill."

  "How long were you in the bathroom?"

  "Not long. A few minutes, maybe." She flushed. "I was getting ready for... taking off my make-up."

  "So he probably didn't have time to see much. It would have taken a while to find the file he was looking for. Then read it."

  Her sister sighed, her body shuddering with it, but Olivia suddenly looked lighter. "Yeah. I hope so."

  "If you can give me the names from the files, I can check and see if any of them have any connections to the douchebag."

  "Don't call him that," Livvy said wearily.

  "Why not? That's what he is." Cilla closed her eyes. "Sorry. That wasn't respectful."

  "He doesn't deserve respect. Not after what he did last night," Olivia admitted.

  "I know he doesn't," Cilla said. "I meant it wasn't respectful of you. You were dating the guy." She frowned. "What did you ever see in him?"

  "He liked taking care of me," she said quietly. "It felt good to come home from work and not have to worry about fixing dinner. It felt good when he pampered me."

  "I guess even douchebags have their moments," Cilla said.

  Livvy stared at her sister for a moment, then both of them laughed. "Okay," Cilla said, grinning. "I won't call him douchebag in front of you."

  "Deal," Livvy said. "But you don't need to spend your time on this. I can go through the databases myself."

  "Do you have the time?" Cilla asked, raising one eyebrow.

  "I have a lot to do today," Olivia admitted. "But I'm the woman who was dating him. I'm the woman who should clean it up."

  "I should have an easy day today. So let me do it."

  "Isn't it about time I took care of stuff like this myself?" Olivia asked quietly. "Time to stop letting you take care of me?"

  "And screw up the natural order of the universe?" Cilla teased. She wanted to agree. She was tired of shouldering everyone's load. She wanted to let Livvy deal with her own mess. But the habit of taking care of her sister and brother were too ingrained. Too knee-jerk.

  Who would take care of them if she didn't?

  Livvy sighed. "I shouldn't let you do this. I know that. But I have a trial coming up and I'm behind on my prep. So just this once. Okay?"

  It was always just this once. Cilla pushed the thought away. "Right. Next time, you're on your own. Sink or swim." Cilla hesitated. Finally she asked quietly, "How did I become the family fixer?"

  Olivia stopped arranging her briefcase and looked at her sister. "I'm not sure, Cill. We all leaned on Dad. Maybe because you spent so much time with him, working on Betsy, we automatically turned to you."

  "Yeah. Maybe." Cilla forced a smile. "And then I became a cop. I guess I live to serve."

  "It doesn't have to be that way," Livvy said. "You can come to me and Sam and Mom, too, you know."

  "I'll do that next time I need a shoulder," Cilla said lightly.

  Fifteen minutes later, she had all the information she needed from her sister. Before she stood up to leave, though, she said, "My partner and I will be working together today on some paperwork. He'd be willing to help with this," she touched the notebook in her hand, "if it's okay with you."

  "Partner?" Livvy stopped with the coffee mug halfway to her mouth. "Since when do you have a partner?"

  "I'm on an undercover job. He's working with me."

  "Anyone I know?"

  "Brendan Donovan. He's a detective on a tactical team. Usually do
es vice."

  Livvy tilted her head. "He have any brothers?"

  "A bunch of them. A sister, too. All of them cops or FBI."

  "I've heard of the family. I worked with a Donovan a while back. A homicide detective. Can't remember his first name. Good detective, though. Heard all of them are. Brought me a solid case."

  The casual praise from her sister shouldn't have made Cilla so happy. She shifted on the couch. "Must run in the family. Brendan's doing great work on this case."

  "Go ahead and let him help, then. As long as he's discreet. Don't want him blabbing to anyone else about how my cases were compromised."

  "He won't." Cilla stood up and set her mug on the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry about James, Liv. I know you liked him. I know it had to hurt."

  "Yeah, it did." She shook her head. "Maybe your approach is right. Don't stick your toe in the dating pool. Then you avoid this kind of crap."

  Cilla felt her face redden. "Not sure that's the answer, either." Maybe if she was dating someone, she wouldn't be so susceptible to Brendan.

  She headed for the door, but her sister spoke behind her. "Wait."

  Cilla stopped, but didn't turn to face her sister. "What? I need to go."

  "You're seeing someone."

  Her way-too-observant sister was a lawyer for a reason. "It's casual, okay. Nothing serious."

  "Are you sleeping with Detective Donovan, Cill?" Livvy grabbed her arm and spun her around. "You are! It's written all over your face."

  "It was one time," Cilla muttered, feeling her face heat. "And it's not going to happen again."

  "Why the hell not?"

  "Because...because it can't. We're partners. That's a script for disaster."

  "You said yourself you're partners only for this case."

  "He's a cop, Liv. Don't you remember what Mom and Aunt Jessie always said? Cops make lousy boyfriends. Even worse husbands. And right now, a cop is the last person I should get involved with."

  When Cilla, Olivia and Sam were growing up, their mom had spent more time at Aunt Jessie's than at their house. Holding her hand. Helping with Jessie's kids. Seeing her through the drama that came with being a cop's wife.