by Julie Miller
“I’d appreciate that, ma’am.” Olivia quickly noted the information on her phone before reaching into the pocket behind her badge. “Here’s my card.”
The doctor smiled as she tucked the business card into her lab coat. “I know the address. My husband and brother both work for KCPD.”
A snort of derision turned her head to the man sorting through the bundle of clothing at the examination table. Was that aggravated huff a response to learning he was surrounded by KCPD fans? Or merely a frustrated testament to the stained jacket and one-sleeved shirt that had been cut apart to gain access to the wound?
Olivia turned back to Emilia, answering with a genuine smile to distract the other woman from Gabe’s possible rudeness. “I know your brother A.J. He’s a very well-respected leader at the Fourth Precinct.”
“Thank you. My husband, Justin Grant, is on the bomb squad—”
A knock on the outer door stopped the conversation and a blond nurse peeked through the gap in the curtains. “Dr. Grant? We have a girl in Bay 2 who’s having an allergic reaction to something she ate. She’s breathing on her own, but the hives—”
“I’m on my way.” She was already following the nurse to another ER bay when she glanced back to Gabe and Olivia. “Excuse me.”
“Of course.” Suddenly, Olivia was aware of how small this curtained-off area was—and that she was alone with the department’s archenemy, Gabe Knight, a man who got under her skin and into her head far too easily for her peace of mind.
Several seconds of awkward silence passed before Gabe pulled on what was left of his white shirt. “Do I need to call a cab, or will you give me a ride back to the paper?”
“Can’t wait to write an exposé about me letting the perp get away? Or allowing you to get hurt?”
The dark brow over his right eye arched, his cool demeanor easily deflecting the accusations. “I was thinking more along the lines of retrieving my car from the parking garage and driving home. I jogged over to Kober’s building from the Journal as soon as the police bulletin came through. It was just a couple of blocks from my office.”
“Do you check up on every cop in the neighborhood? Or did I just get lucky that you’re my responsibility today?”
He inhaled deeply, drawing her attention to the expanding hills and hollows peeking through the open front of his shirt. Really? She couldn’t maintain a polite distance, or a sneering disinterest in whatever testosterone he was exuding for even two seconds? This man was the enemy of KCPD. That made him her enemy, too. Right?
He pointed to the bandage wrapped around his left forearm. “This is on me. I thought that fool was going to hurt you. After seeing Dani the way I did, knowing I should have done something more, I...” The sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw softened with a wry grin. “Guess I had a caveman moment.”
“Caveman?” As tempted to laugh at the apt description of his earlier interference as she’d been tempted to reach out to him when his eyes had darkened at the memory of his murdered fiancée, Olivia eased up on the self-recriminations and settled for smiling in return. That was probably as good an apology as she was going to get from him—and more of a concession than she’d expected. “Me no need Og’s help,” she teased. “Me carry big gun.”
“You carry big attitude.” No denying that. And then he extended his hand across the examination table. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Although her instinct was to reach out to accept a proffered hand, her caution around this man left her fingers hovering in the air.
But there was no hesitation when Gabe closed the gap between them and wrapped his hand firmly around hers. Olivia’s pulse leaped as if an electrical connection had just been completed. Instead of pulling away, her fingertips squeezed around the breadth of his palm. His skin was as warm as she’d imagined, and the heat of his grip seeped beneath her skin and lit a slow, easy fire that licked its way up her arm. “For listening to my side of the story. For not leaving me there in that alley to bleed. I know holding KCPD accountable hasn’t made them my biggest fan.”
“Any cop would have brought you to the hospital. We don’t stop to evaluate whether or not we like you if you’re threatened or hurt. If someone needs our help, we do our best to deliver.”
“I’ll remember that next time we meet.” Gabe’s gaze dropped to where they still held on to each other.
Next time? Olivia quickly pulled her hand away. Was that anxiety or anticipation crawling along her spine? She supposed another encounter with the bullying reporter was inevitable, since he’d made it clear he intended to dog the Cold Case Squad’s investigation into his fiancée’s murder. Didn’t mean she had to cling to him as though...as though she liked touching him. Still, if he could make the effort to be a little more civil and respectful, then she would do the same.
Appreciating the unspoken truce, Olivia pulled her keys from her jacket pocket and headed for the door. “I’ll drive. Finish buttoning things up and meet me out in the waiting room.”
Olivia strode down the hallway, flexing her fingers down at her side to alleviate the tingling awareness that lingered, determined to leave Gabe Knight and his blue eyes, warm skin and bothersome words behind her. Whatever was out of whack with her libido this evening would surely go away once she got a good night’s sleep. But she’d only inhaled a couple of cool, reviving breaths when she heard the commotion out at the information desk in the lobby. “Oh, no.”
She recognized all five of those urgent, worried male voices. She turned the corner and her family shifted as one, like a flock of tall, robust birds, and hurried toward her.
“Livvy?” Her father’s familiar limp led the charge, his arms outstretched toward her.
There must be a sign over her head today. Trouble magnet. Just because she could handle whatever the world threw her way didn’t mean she wanted to. Thomas Watson’s beefy arms wrapped her up in a bear hug that lifted her onto her toes. “What happened? How badly are you hurt? I heard you took a gun off a perp.”
Olivia treasured a few snug moments against her dad’s chest before dropping back onto her heels and stepping away. But that only allowed space for her brothers and grandfather to circle around her. One palmed the back of her head. Another squeezed her shoulder. “It’s not what you think, Dad.”
Her second-oldest brother, the one with the glasses and the medical degree, brushed her bangs off her forehead and hunched down to study her eyes. “Tell me exactly what your physician said.”
“You’re a doctor for dead people,” she groaned, referring to his position as a medical examiner with the crime lab. She swatted his hand away. “I’m not the patient, Niall. I’m fine.”
Her oldest brother, Duff, wasn’t buying it. “The radio report said that you were headed to the ER.”
“Damn it, guys. If you’re going to eavesdrop on the police scanner, make sure you’ve got your information right. I brought in a...” What exactly was Gabriel Knight? A suspect? A lead on a murder investigation? A not-so-innocent bystander? “I brought in a person of interest who is...helping with a case. He got injured at a crime scene late this afternoon.”
Her father propped his hands at his waist and shook his head, needing a little more convincing for the fear to dissipate. “But you’re okay? You missed dinner. Dad made his Guinness bread and stew. You never miss that.”
“Oh.” She smiled at the silver-haired gentleman beside her father. “Sorry, Grandpa. I lost track of the time. Did you save me a slice?”
Seamus Watson released his double grip on his cane and squeezed her hand. “Of course, sweetie.”
Keir, the brother closest in age to her, loosened the knot of his tie. “I heard you were in pursuit of an armed suspect. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“A couple of bruises and a wounded ego for letting the guy I was chasing get away. But I’m fine.” She beamed a r
eassuring smile to each member of her close-knit family before reaching up to smooth the rumpled collar of her father’s blue chambray shirt. “Now you want to get the gang out of here? I’m sure somebody in this family besides me has to work in the morning. I don’t know about any of you, but I’m exhausted. Let’s all go to our respective homes, and I promise I’ll swing by the house tomorrow morning.” She winked to the eighty-year-old sweetheart beside her dad. Seamus had always been her go-to guy when she needed someone in the family to listen to her. “A toasty piece of Grandpa’s bread and an over-easy egg to dip it in is my favorite breakfast.”
“I’m glad it was just a misunderstanding and that you’re all right.” His old-country lilt was as softly reassuring as the sweet peck on the cheek he gave her. “I’ll have breakfast hot and ready for you. Good night, Livvy.”
“Good night, Grandpa.”
They were in the midst of hugs and good-nights and going on their way when her father puffed up to his full height and glared over Olivia’s shoulder. “This SOB is your person of interest?”
Olivia didn’t have to turn to know that Gabe had come up behind her. She was learning to recognize him by the size of his shadow and the subtle scent that was a mix of soap and starch and now a tinge of antiseptic. And that deep-pitched voice with the cynical undertones was unmistakable.
“Is this the rest of your family, Detective?”
The rest of her family? Although the question didn’t quite make sense, Olivia nodded. Every loud, overprotective, stubborn Irish man belonged to her. “These are my guys.”
Gabe stepped up beside her, his gaze sweeping the circle of her family. “Let me guess, you’re all cops?”
“Kansas City’s Finest.” Her father’s shoulders came back proudly as he made the claim. “Not that you’d care.”
Of course, they’d recognize the department’s harshest critic—and be less than pleased to learn he was the man she’d brought to the ER. She didn’t suppose introductions would alleviate the tension rising around her, but it couldn’t hurt to turn the rumored enemy into an actual person with a name and a stitched-up arm—or to let Gabe know just how proud she was of her family and their accomplishments.
“Dad, this is Gabriel Knight. You probably recognize his name from the Kansas City Journal. My father, Thomas Watson. Dad retired a senior detective from the department a couple years ago. This is my grandfather, Seamus, a longtime desk sergeant, also KCPD, retired.” There was no sense adding a title to the other introductions—they all wore the badges and ME card from their respective departments proudly on display. “My brothers, Duff, Niall and Keir.”
If anything, the animosity in the air thickened. Her father looked as grim as she’d ever seen him. “Introductions aren’t necessary, Livvy. We’ve met.”
She swiveled her gaze up to Gabe. He wasn’t smiling, either. He nodded, confirming her dad’s icy statement. “Watson. When I met your daughter, I wasn’t expecting to run into you. Maybe I just didn’t want to.”
“How do you two know each other?” Olivia asked.
“Your father was the cop who investigated Dani’s murder.”
Chapter Four
“What were you thinking?”
The fidgety young man sitting in the plush chair on the other side of the desk was crawling out of his skin as he listened to the calmer voice.
“You could have ruined everything. I told you I’d take care of it.”
“I had to do something,” the young man argued.
“No, you didn’t. If you’d been caught, your actions would have jeopardized everything we’ve worked for.”
“Are you angry with me?”
“Surprised. Maybe a little disappointed.” That sucked the nervous energy right out of him. “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do. But I can’t go to prison.” The young man scratched at the marks on the back of his hand. He needed a shave, some sleep, and most likely, a fix. “I don’t think I could handle that. What if Mr. Kober talked?”
“He won’t now, will he? And he wouldn’t have. As I said, everything is as it should be, according to my plan. I’m taking care of the situation, just as I’m taking care of you.” The host unlocked the top right drawer of the desk and reached inside to pull out a small envelope filled with cash. The young man’s eyes rounded like saucers and he nearly licked his chapped lips in anticipation. “You know I shouldn’t give you this. It’s not much, just enough to tide you over for a few days.”
The young man leaned forward in his chair. “I can’t get any money right now. It’s all tied up.”
“I’m sure you feel frustrated about that.”
“Helpless is more like it. When I saw on TV that Senator McCoy was running for reelection, and that Mr. Kober was being investigated, I had to do something. He knew about that woman. What if he knew about me, too?” The nerves were kicking in again. “I could lose what little I have left. If the truth comes out...”
This misguided, troubled young man had no real understanding of the truth. “You wouldn’t want your family to find out what you’ve done, would you?”
His chair rattled against the floor as he visibly shook. “No.”
“Then trust me. Just like you have all along. I’ve taken good care of you, haven’t I? I’ve helped you.”
His brown eyes fixated on the envelope. “Yeah.”
“When you listen to me and do as I suggest, everything is fine?”
The young man nodded.
“Then listen to me now.” The host slipped the envelope across the desk and the young man snatched it up and stuffed it inside his jacket. “It’s more important than ever that you don’t draw any attention to yourself. Go home to your family. Clean yourself up. Get back to your work and leave everything to me. I’ve got it all under control—”
“I want to be in control.” Angry tears dotted his cheeks as the young man pounded his fist on top of the desk. “I’m not in control of my own life, anymore.”
The host inhaled a deep breath and exhaled the irritation this visitor was causing. “That will come in time. I promise you. We can’t solve all your problems in one day.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“I know. But until you learn to make the best choices for yourself, you need to listen to me. Do what I tell you and everything will be fine. Do you understand that?”
The young man’s head jerked with a nod.
“Good.”
* * *
OLIVIA TILTED HER EYES to the rearview mirror and drummed her fingers on the Explorer’s steering wheel. It was still there.
The low-slung muscle car with the tinted windows sat two vehicles behind her, waiting at the same stoplight. Normally, she would have dismissed several sightings of the same car on the way to work as a comrade in arms, battling rush-hour traffic en route to his or her job in downtown Kansas City.
But she didn’t like not being able to get some description of the driver—gender, age, ethnicity. She didn’t like having her vision so obscured by traffic that she couldn’t get a license plate number. She especially didn’t like spotting the same car cruising past her father’s house long before she’d pulled onto the Interstate to merge with the thousands of other cars swarming into the city this morning. And seeing the same black car pull off on the same exit to enter the heart of downtown raised every hackle at the nape of her neck.
Someone was following her.
At least, that’s what every instinct that had been on hyperalert since yesterday afternoon was trying to tell her.
Yesterday, she’d made a mental note of the silver SUV Gabe Knight drove when she dropped him off. Although her goodbye and Don’t call me, I’ll call you had been firm and to the point, she wouldn’t put it past him to tail her, in hopes of finding out information on his
fiancée’s murder. But why switch vehicles? She knew he had an obsessive interest in the case. But other than not sharing the connection he had to her father, he’d seemed like a straightforward kind of guy. This had to be something else, right?
But she’d been wrong about Ron Kober’s murder being a wasted errand for her and Jim. She’d been wrong about the man in the stairwell intending no harm. She might even have been wrong about Gabriel Knight being the coldhearted villain the rest of the department believed him to be.
Maybe yesterday hadn’t been a fluke, and her people-reading radar was on the fritz. She could be wrong about Mr. Muscle Car back there, too. But just to test a theory...
As soon as the light changed, Olivia nosed her Explorer into the turn lane and made a sharp left without signaling. She raised an apologetic hand at the honks of protest and cruised on through the intersection. Good. The driver in the black car wasn’t laying on the horn or making any sudden moves to turn the corner after her.
Huffing out the breath she must have been holding, Olivia relaxed her grip around the steering wheel and merged into traffic to double back to her original route. So maybe the car wasn’t following her. If it showed up again between here and the KCPD parking garage, she could always stick the siren on her roof and swing around to make a traffic stop and get her questions answered. But for now, she could drop her guard.
Olivia drove the last six blocks without another sighting of the black car. Not Gabe Knight. Not a threat. Her suspicion eased enough to chalk up the notion she was being followed to coincidence. Either a car dealer had made a fortune selling more than one customized car, or the driver was simply traveling the same route that she was. Stranger things had happened.
With a little rational thought, Olivia had her emotional armor firmly back in place as she pulled into the KCPD parking garage. She locked up her SUV and headed down the stairs, joining the migration of personnel reporting in for morning duty.
