Once a Lawman

by Lisa Childs

  Like Tessa had a feeling she would barely pass her class if Lieutenant Michalski had his way. She had to talk him into releasing her from her court-ordered participation in the academy. As she walked back into the kitchen to the homework Audrey had left spread across the table, lights shone through the windows as a car pulled into the driveway. Her mother wouldn’t be home for a few hours yet, not until after the bar closed. It had to be Kevin’s ride dropping him off.

  Neither Audrey nor Kevin was responsible enough to take care of the younger kids or themselves; the responsibility was all hers. Tessa had to figure a way out of the citizens’ police academy.

  “I’M GOING TO SKIP this week’s class,” Chad warned Paddy as he buttoned up his uniform shirt over the bulletproof vest Lakewood PD officers were required to wear every time they put on their uniform.

  Other officers talked and slammed lockers shut as they, too, got ready for their shifts. The long, narrow basement room, with the gun-metal gray lockers and brick walls, reverberated with noise, but Chad suspected the watch commander had heard him and was just ignoring his pronouncement.

  While Paddy sat on a bench tying his shoes, Chad glanced over at his friend’s open locker. He noticed the other man had put up new school pictures of his kids, and Chad’s heart contracted with a swift, sharp jab of pain.

  He looked inside his own locker, at the pieces of tape stuck inside the door. The pictures were gone. After Luanne’s death he’d taken down her photo. And after his premature son had died two weeks later, he’d taken down his sonogram picture. But he’d left the pieces of tape, as if he might someday have new pictures to post.

  But Luanne was gone; their child was gone. Only the pain remained. He couldn’t risk more pain; there would be no more pictures. He reached for one of the pieces of tape, picking at it with his fingernail.

  Paddy stood and as he attached his gun, two extra magazine clips, Taser, collapsible baton, pepper spray and radio to his belt, he stared at the pictures of his kids. Since his divorce, he didn’t see his children nearly as often as he liked.

  But at least he could see them.

  “I’m skipping the CPA class this week,” Chad repeated, with enough volume that Paddy couldn’t continue pretending to have not heard him.

  “We’ve already been through this, Junior,” the watch commander reminded him as he closed and leaned against his locker. “You’re the resident emergency vehicle operation and traffic stop expert.”

  “You don’t need an expert for this week’s class,” Chad protested, abandoning the stubborn tape. He would have to take care of it later. “You’re just doing the tour of the department.”

  Paddy shook his head. “That won’t take four hours. We’re going to show some video footage, too. Give ’em a day in the life of a police officer.”

  “I thought that was the purpose of the ride-along.”

  “This week we do sign-ups for the ride-alongs,” Paddy informed him. “The tapes give ’em an idea of what to expect.”

  Chad snorted. “We never know what to expect when we go out.” A routine traffic stop could easily become a drug arrest, or a shoot-out. Or a confrontation with an unsettlingly beautiful woman.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Paddy agreed with a heavy sigh. “And that’s why I like to share with them that you have to expect the unexpected. Hopefully it’ll inspire them to be careful on their ride-alongs.”

  Chad inwardly groaned. Based on her speeding and her wanting to walk the city streets alone at night, Tessa Howard didn’t have a clue about how to be careful. “Maybe you should skip the ride-alongs this session.”

  Paddy grinned. “Thinking about Tessa Howard?”

  Too much, but he wasn’t about to share that with the watch commander. “She’s not the only one who might be a problem.”

  “The mayor’s daughter,” Paddy added with a derisive snort. “Who’s probably spying for her daddy so he can find out where to cut our budget.”

  And politics like that was why Chad was happy in his present position. He wouldn’t want Paddy’s job or the public information officer’s, either. “Erin Powell is in the class, too,” he reminded the watch commander.

  Paddy uttered a groan. “Kent’s reporter is already a problem.”

  Erin Powell at the Lakewood Chronicle was determined to paint the department, but most especially Sergeant Kent Terlecki, the department’s public information officer aka media liaison, in the worst light.

  “Why did you approve her application for the academy?” Chad wondered. He would have asked about the reporter’s admittance earlier, but he had been preoccupied with another member of the CPA.

  Paddy shrugged. “I left it up to Kent.”

  So Chad wasn’t the only one who had erred in judgment.

  “Anyway, I need you to pull some traffic stop footage for me,” Paddy continued.

  “I can pull the footage,” Chad agreed, “but I don’t have to be there to show it.”

  “Yeah, you do,” the watch commander insisted, “in case anyone has questions.”

  “With the reporter in the class, Kent should be the one answering all the questions.”

  “Maybe that’s the reason he shouldn’t,” Paddy reasoned. “Did you read today’s paper?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Don’t waste your time,” Paddy advised him. “Hopefully Kent hasn’t seen it, either.”

  “I’m sure he has.” Chad doubted the public information officer missed any of Powell’s articles.

  “Then that’s another reason you’re not going to want to miss this week’s class,” Paddy predicted.

  “Okay, I’ll be there.” If only for moral support for his fellow officer. Chad glanced at his watch and noted that he had some time before the night-shift briefing.

  A few minutes later, he stepped out of the stairwell onto the second floor where the offices were located. He intended to talk to Kent, but another voice drew his attention—a fast-talking, feminine one.

  “And you don’t have to worry about one-eight-hundred numbers and automated answering services. You’ll have my cell number and can reach me directly, any time day or night, if you have any problems,” Tessa Howard assured the chief as the older man walked her out of his office. “Not that you’ll have any problems. I’m sure you’ll find our Internet and phone service much more reliable than your current carrier.”

  “I’ll have to look over your proposal, Ms. Howard,” Chief Archer stalled as he tapped a finger against the folder in his hand. “Then let you know my decision.”

  “I’ll be here later this week for the citizens’ police academy,” she said. “I can come in early and check with you before the class starts.”

  “That’s right. You’re a member of the academy,” Chief Archer said with a smile of obvious pride in the department.

  “Not by choice,” Chad chimed in, unwilling to let her use the CPA as a selling point. Wearing a short skirt and tight jacket again, she could have been in another type of profession. The lady was not above using any of her assets to get what she wanted, as he recalled from her shameless flirting during the traffic stop. “Well, actually I guess the judge did give her a choice—the academy or another speeding ticket.”

  “Hello, Lieutenant,” the chief greeted him while Tessa just glared.

  Chad ignored her and turned toward his boss, who was also a good friend. A year ago Frank Archer had joined Chad’s unofficial club of widowers. Misery didn’t quite love company but at least appreciated it. “Chief.”

  Archer studied him and Tessa, his brow furrowed in deep thought. “It appears you already know Ms. Howard.”

  Chad nodded. “Yes, I know Ms. Howard.”

  “Humph,” Tessa said and murmured, “He only thinks he does.”

  “Then perhaps you two should get to know each other better,” the chief suggested.

  “No!” the protest slipped through Chad’s lips.

  “That’s not necessary,” Tessa said, leaving Chad to won
der if she referred to his reaction or to his getting to know her better.

  The chief’s brow furrowed more, and he shook his head. “Well, can you at least see Ms. Howard out?” Without waiting for a response, Archer ducked back inside his office and closed the door, leaving Chad alone with Tessa.

  He glanced from the chief’s closed door to the one next to his that belonged to Sergeant Terlecki. Chad had come upstairs to offer Kent a word of support, but instead he wrapped his fingers around Tessa’s wrist and steered her toward the elevator.

  “Thanks a lot,” Tessa said with total insincerity as irritation—not his touch—heated her blood. She shook his hand off her arm. “If you hadn’t come along, I would have talked him into signing up.”

  He chuckled as he reached for the Down button of the elevator. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?” Pride lifted her chin. “I’m good at my job.”

  The elevator must have been waiting because the doors slid open instantly. His hand touched the small of her back now, guiding her into the empty car. “I don’t doubt that you’re quite the saleswoman,” he said.

  Somehow she felt insulted rather than complimented. “What are you implying?”

  “Just that you’re not above using your wiles to get what you want—a contract—” he arched a dark brow “—or a free pass on a ticket.”

  “Well, you didn’t give me a free pass.” Which didn’t say much for her wiles since he hadn’t been a bit interested then—or now.

  “And the judge didn’t give you a free pass, either,” the lieutenant said. “Despite your recent attempt to sweet-talk him.”

  Heat rushed to Tessa’s face. “Uh…”

  “The judge e-mailed to warn me that you’re trying to get out of the academy,” Chad said, his voice sharp with disapproval. “Interesting that you weren’t above using your participation to score points with the chief, though.”

  “I am participating,” she said. Because she hadn’t been able to talk the judge into changing her punishment. She’d even offered to pick up trash along the highway instead.

  “But not of your own free will, like you wanted the chief to believe.”

  “What are you—the sales spiel police? Do you take exception to everything I do or say?”

  “Only when it’s not the entire truth.”

  “You sound like you’re my father,” she said, not that she had a lot of experience with what a father sounded like. Hers hadn’t stuck around long; he hadn’t even waited for her to be born. But then, given her mother’s taste in men, that might have been a good thing; some of her siblings’ dads had stuck around too long.

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. “I’m not old enough to be your father.”

  “No, but you’re stuffy enough.”

  “I’m not stuffy,” he protested. Clearly she’d struck a nerve.

  “Oh, Lieutenant…” She emitted a pitying sigh. “You have no idea how stuffy you are.”

  “Just because I didn’t let you flirt your way out a ticket?” he asked. “Flirting has surely failed you before, like it just did with the chief.”

  “You think I was flirting with the chief?” she asked, thoroughly insulted now. Not that the chief wasn’t a good-looking man. Despite his having the highest position in the department, he probably wasn’t quite old enough to be her father, either.

  “You were wasting your time,” he said, as he released a pitying sigh of his own. “The chief just lost his wife last year. He’s too loyal a man to notice another woman yet. Even you.”

  “Even me?” He may not have meant that as a compliment, but Tessa took it as such.

  Chad squeezed his eyes shut as if he regretted what he’d revealed. Then he admitted, “Even you. You know what you look like.”

  She smiled. “My mama passed on good genes.” For physical appearance. For picking men, she had also passed on her lousy judgment genes, regrettably. Tessa had dated too many losers to be flattered by any man, yet the lieutenant wasn’t trying to flatter her. If anything, he was still insulting her. Her smile widened. “I hadn’t thought you noticed what I look like, Lieutenant.”

  The elevator bell dinged as it reached the lobby, but Tessa reached out and pressed the door button, holding them closed.

  “Your flirting doesn’t affect me any more than it did the chief,” Michalski assured her.

  “I wasn’t flirting with the chief,” she pressed. “You’d know if I was flirting.”

  “I would,” he agreed—too easily—then added, “but I don’t think you do. It’s probably just second nature to you, kind of like your speeding.”

  “I know when I flirt.”

  Unfortunately, so did he. Since her traffic stop, he hadn’t been able to forget the way she’d trailed her fingers over his and leaned in through her open SUV window, her breath nearly tickling his ear. His pulse quickened at the memory and at the reality of being alone with her. The elevator dinged again as someone probably stood on the other side of the doors, pressing the Up or Down button. But Tessa held the Close button again, trapping them inside the small car.

  He could have easily brushed aside her hand and opened the doors, but he leaned against the wall of the elevator and wrapped his hands around the brass railing to prevent himself from pulling her into his arms.

  “I don’t think you do know when you’re flirting,” he argued with her arbitrarily. Was he wanting to rile her as much as she had tried to rile him with her “stuffy” insult? “I think you act just as recklessly with your…wiles as you do your driving.”

  “Recklessly?”

  “Some day you might flirt with the wrong man,” he warned her, “one who doesn’t understand that you’re not really aware of what you’re doing.”

  “I know when I flirt,” she repeated, jabbing the Close button again. Then she crossed the small space separating them, swaying her hips with just a couple of steps. She didn’t stop until her body touched his. Then she lifted her chin, staring up at him, her blue eyes wide and bright.

  “Lieutenant…” she murmured as her fingers trailed up his chest to tap his badge.

  He knew she was playing with him, teasing the stuffy police officer and trying to prove her point. But his heart beat hard beneath his vest. “Tessa…”

  She bit her full bottom lip and then swiped the tip of her tongue across it, moistening her mouth. Her lips parted and she breathed the word, “Yes…”

  He hadn’t realized he’d asked a question. To what was she giving permission—for him to kiss her? He leaned forward…just as the elevator dinged again. Without her finger on the button, the doors slid open to a trio of rookie officers standing in the lobby. Heat climbed to Chad’s face from where it had pooled lower in his body, where Tessa’s curvy body brushed his.

  One officer whistled.

  One whispered, “Oh, man…”

  And the third spoke coherently, “Lieutenant, we didn’t want to be late for roll call. But we’ll take the stairs.”

  “Sorry,” muttered the whistler as they whirled away from the elevator.

  The rookies weren’t going to be the only ones late for roll call. Chad closed his eyes and groaned.

  Tessa’s body, lush and soft, settled fully against his. He swallowed another groan, fighting to keep his body from reacting to her closeness. He dragged in a breath, but it smelled of her—some light floral scent and fruity shampoo. He gripped the brass railing so hard he nearly snapped it free of the elevator wall. But he wouldn’t reach for her. Even though his body hardened to the point of pain, he couldn’t give in to temptation.

  Her lips brushed his throat as she murmured, “Now that’s flirting.”

  Feeling her gaze on his face, Chad kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t see her this close and not lean down those few inches to press his mouth across hers, to find out if she tasted as sweet and naughty as she smelled.

  She eased away and added, “And no matter what you claim, my flirting affects you.”

  He opened his
eyes just in time to watch her hips sway as she sashayed out of the elevator and walked across the lobby. She was right. She affected him. And he couldn’t have that—he couldn’t have her.

  Chapter Three

  Flirting with Lieutenant Michalski had been a bad idea. She had proved him right; she had acted recklessly. Now, after flirting shamelessly with him, she had to see him again at the CPA class. Her face warmed as she walked into class—late. She ducked her head, hoping not to draw attention to her entrance.

  But Amy, the college girl, called out, “I saved your seat!” and waved her to the table at the front of the room.

  “You almost missed us, Ms. Howard,” Lieutenant O’Donnell remarked from where he leaned against the officers’ table. “We were just about to leave for our tour of the department.”

  Great, if she had been a little later, she could have justified leaving to the judge, if she had walked into an empty room. He would have had to let her miss this class.

  “We’ll break into smaller groups to get into elevators,” O’Donnell continued. “We have sixteen citizens, now that Ms. Howard has joined us.” While Michalski, seated behind the officers’ table, stared at her in disapproval, O’Donnell winked at her. “There will be an officer with each group, so don’t worry about getting lost. And feel free to leave your academy binder and personal stuff in the room.”

  Chairs creaked and voices rose in conversation and excitement over the tour. Tessa glanced down at the briefcase she had propped next to her chair. While the leather bag was heavy, it was also too important for her to risk leaving behind.

  “It’ll be safe,” a deep voice assured her.

  She lifted her gaze to Chad’s handsome face. Along with those gold-flecked green eyes, he had chiseled features. She sighed, disgusted that such good looks were wasted on a man with such an uptight personality. To silently challenge his claim, she raised a brow.

  “You’re in a police department,” he reminded her.

  “But someone pointed out last week how dangerous this area is at night.”

  “Outside,” he explained. “On the streets. You’re safe in here.”