Kansas City Cover-Up

by Julie Miller

  Gabe waited until she was buckled in before climbing in beside her. “Deal.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I heard you’ve been spending time with Gabe Knight from the paper.” Duff Watson pushed open the door into the Fourth Precinct lobby and cleared a path for Olivia to enter without anyone jostling her sore arm.

  Rolling her eyes at the attention her volunteer chauffeur was drawing to the black sling she wore over her short gray jacket, she walked past her oldest brother. “He’s a consultant on a case I’m working on. Danielle Reese’s murder.”

  “Dad’s old case?”

  She nodded, stopping in the middle of the marble-tiled foyer. “You were at the hospital. You saw that Gabe and Dad knew each other.”

  “Yeah, but I figured that was a one-time thing.” Duff muttered something under his breath. “I didn’t know you two were going to be joined at the hip. Keir said he was at the scene of the fire with you last night. That the two of you escaped together.”

  “He knows more about that case than anyone.” Duff had been a detective longer than she had. He knew that made Gabe her primary lead. “I’m hoping to kill several birds with one stone—take a killer who’s gotten away with murder for six years off the streets, get Dad that perfect record he wants—and Lieutenant Rafferty-Taylor wants me to try to mend some fences between Gabe and the department. Get us some positive press.”

  Duff, a younger, taller ringer for their stocky father, stuffed his hands in his jeans and drew in a deep breath. Maybe he was feigning surprise, and maybe he was just using his big silhouette to shield her from the officers and staff filing through the lobby. “That’s a tall order.”

  “He’s doing his job, Duff. The same way we do ours.”

  He nodded to some friends he knew from the drug task force he was currently assigned to before facing her again. “Yeah, but Knight has a way of putting things that makes it sound like he’s got a personal vendetta against the department.”

  “Danielle Reese was his fiancée.”

  “That’s rough.” Duff rubbed his hand at the back of his neck, conceding that much.

  “I try to put myself in his shoes and understand where he’s coming from by remembering how we felt when Mom was killed.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to the KCPD logo on her brother’s jacket, the only outward sign she allowed for the pain she could so vividly remember. “I was either crying all the time or angry at everyone.” She pushed aside the memories and looked up again. “I said and did some things I regret—until Dad and Uncle Al caught that dopehead, and the healing started.”

  “You were only nine years old, kiddo. We all lashed out back then. Knight’s a grown man.”

  “That doesn’t make it any easier. I was scared that guy was going to come after me or one of you guys or Grandpa until I saw him in handcuffs on his way to prison.” She shrugged, then winced as renewed ache in her shoulder ligaments made her wish she hadn’t. “I don’t think Gabe has any family here to worry about. But he’s got friends, and the people of Kansas City he’s speaking for. Maybe he takes us to task because he’s worried his fiancée’s killer is going to hurt somebody else—or already has.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  Olivia blew out a frustrated puff of air that lifted her bangs. Her words had echoed the speech Gabe had given her last night. They had more in common than she would have ever guessed, but her brother wouldn’t understand this growing affinity she was feeling for the reporter. She wasn’t sure she understood it herself. “I’m not on anybody’s side. I’m just stating facts.”

  Duff reached out with a gentle finger to poke the strawberry scrape on her cheekbone. “The only fact that I’m interested in is that you seem to keep getting hurt around Knight.”

  “Technically, he’s getting hurt because he’s hanging out with me.”

  “All I see is you in a sling, sportin’ those bruises on your face.” Duff’s fingers went back to his pockets. “I’m glad Dad called me.”

  “He shouldn’t have.” Apparently, showing up at the scene of the fire and a report from the EMT last night hadn’t been enough to ease her father’s concern. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find her big brother at her front door this morning, waiting to drive her to her appointment at the clinic. “I pulled some muscles—nothing major. The doctor said I didn’t even have to wear this if I take it easy, and then, only for a couple of days. If it weren’t for Gabe, I’d have been fried to a crisp yesterday. He saved me.”

  “Now you’re defending him? If Dad could hear you—”

  “If Dad was here right now, I’d tell him the same thing.” Olivia did a little poking of her own, right in the middle of her brother’s chest. “Gabe wasn’t the bad guy yesterday. It took both of us, working together, to get out of that warehouse. Trust me, somebody didn’t want us to.”

  The lines beside Duff’s green eyes crinkled with a teasing grin. “You got a thing for this guy?”

  “What?” Olivia groaned and pushed him on his way. One kiss after a close call did not make her and Gabe a thing.

  “Seriously.” He waved his hands in front of her face, pointing out her tone and expression. “You’ve got that whole mama bear defending her territory thing going on right now.”

  Sometimes she wondered who the mature sibling really was in this family. “Get back to work. I have to get upstairs to roll call.”

  This conversation had already lasted too long and gotten too personal. But the big galoot wouldn’t take the hint. “I’ll be done with my shift at ten. You call me if you need a ride anywhere else today.”

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t want you to give me a ride here in the first place. You must be exhausted.”

  Although he scrubbed his palm over his end-of-shift stubble, Duff shook his head. “A cup of coffee and I’m good for another three or four hours. Dad said we needed to keep an eye on you. It was an easy way to help out.”

  “I can take care of myself. Or, I would have been able to, except now I’m without a vehicle.”

  “Your partner can drive you. Or call one of the bros. You know we’re here for you, baby sister.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and started backing toward the doors.

  “You do realize I’m twenty-nine years old. I’m not a baby anything, anymore.”

  Duff came back a step and dropped his square jaw into her personal space to whisper, “Teasing aside, you get hurt again, and Keir or I are going to start shadowing this investigation with you.”

  “No.”

  “And after what Brower did to you, if this Gabe Knight makes you feel something again, and then throws it back in your face, there will be a conversation with the man.”

  Great. He was dead serious.

  “I don’t need babysitters. And I really don’t need romantic help from any of you confirmed bachelors. I am working my job and living my life just fine without—” But he wasn’t listening. He was leaving. “Duff? Thomas Watson Junior, I am talking to you.”

  He tapped his thumb and fingers together like a quacking duck. “Blah, blah, blah. Big brothers never give up taking care of their little sister. See you at Sunday dinner. Love ya.”

  “Grrr.” Olivia fisted her free hand down at her side, feeling smothered by just how much her family loved her at that moment.

  She crossed over to the bank of elevators and jabbed the call button, softly chanting a reminder that wasn’t easing her frustration one bit. “They mean well—you love them. They mean well—you love them. They mean...”

  She stepped into the elevator and a man darted in behind her. She recognized his musky cologne before she turned to meet his dark eyes. “Oh, great. Good morning, Marcus.”

  “Good morning to you, too. Glad I caught you. I know you had a rough day yesterday.” He reached in front of her to close the doors before anyone
else could join them. “How are you feeling, babe?”

  “Babe? Really?” This day was off to a freaking fabulous start. “Have you been lying in wait for me to show up this morning?”

  “I wanted to see for myself that you were all right. You got trapped in a fire. You wouldn’t talk to me last night. Can’t a guy worry about you?”

  “Thanks for asking. I’m fine.” She punched the number three. With the unsettling and aggravating things Duff had said still stewing inside her, she’d pay good money to take this ride to the third floor in silence.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  “You know I’d have gotten you out of there in one piece.”

  Somebody else did. Blue eyes, black hair and the most masculine hands on the planet had proved utterly reliable. “I am in one piece.”

  “Are you really?”

  Marcus brushed his fingers around the shell of her ear and she lurched away from the touch she wanted about as much as that answering throb of pain in her side. “Do we have to do this again?” She tried to explain her revulsion in a way that could penetrate his thick skull. “We were partners. We’re not, anymore. We were going to get married. We’re not, anymore. You’ve got no claim on my life other than being a coworker I pass in the hallway.”

  But there was no getting through that ego she’d once mistaken as confidence. “Come on. Just because I screwed up doesn’t mean I don’t still have feelings for you. I want to take care of you. Especially when you’re hurt like this.” He opened his arms in a humble gesture. Did he really want a hug? “You said we could still be friends.”

  “No. That was your idea.” She pointed at him, warning him to keep his distance. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

  “I saw Duff drop you off.”

  “Family’s different.” Annoying and overbearing, at times, but at least she could trust them.

  “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

  “I’ve forgiven you, Marcus.” Is that what he wanted? Absolution for breaking her heart?

  She herself was the one she was having such a hard time forgiving. How could she have been so sad and stupid to think she could make a relationship with her partner—a man she knew to be a player, no less—work? She’d fallen for the charm and excitement he brought to her life, for the security he’d made her feel. But that had all been a sham.

  She looked up into his dark brown eyes, willing him to understand. “Forgiveness is one thing. But I’m too smart to ever forget. I don’t have the feelings we once shared. I’m not that naive about relationships anymore. I’ve moved on. You should, too.”

  “I can only apologize so many times, babe. We were so good together. We have to find a way to make this work.”

  They passed the second floor and Olivia turned on the man she’d once loved, determined to finish this conversation before they reached their destination. “The first thing you can do is stop calling me babe. You’re damn lucky I don’t file a sexual harassment suit. It’s Detective or Olivia or even Hey, you. But it will never be babe again.”

  He had the gall to laugh, although the cutting undertones revealed a taunt, not amusement. “When did you get to be such an uptight virgin again? I know who you are. I know how you like it.”

  “What?” She sputtered on her anger. “You son of a bitch.”

  There was no charm in his voice now. “I’ve poured out my heart to you. I’ve groveled as much as a man can. I tell you, I’m not the same guy I used to be.” When he stepped toward her, Olivia backed against the elevator’s cold steel wall, not believing this wounded anger any more than she’d believed his altruistic concern. He slapped his hand on the wall beside her and she flinched. “I want to take care of you. I’m doing everything I can to win you back. And all you’ve got is that you want to sue me for harassment? It’ll never fly with a review board, Liv. We were engaged.”

  “You’re threatening me?” Olivia shoved him out of her space as the elevator slowed its ascent. I’m doing everything I can to win you back. The glimmer of an idea slipped in between two angry, defensive breaths. Just how did Marcus think he was going to win her back? “You want to take care of me?”

  “Yeah. Like old times.”

  Could he have been following her? Hoping to rescue her from an emergency like yesterday’s fire so that she’d be grateful enough to take him back? Un-uh. She couldn’t handle games and lies like that again. “What kind of car do you drive?”

  “You want to find out? It’s got a backseat where we can relieve some of that tension.”

  She cursed his lack of an answer as much as the innuendo. “You seriously want to go on report, don’t you?” She waved aside whatever smart remark he had in mind. “Forget it.” She could run Marcus’s plate numbers without prolonging this conversation. She jabbed the open door button. The air in the elevator had suddenly grown toxic. “Just stay away from me.”

  Olivia was on her way out before the doors fully opened. But Gabe Knight was standing right there in the waiting area. Jeans. Corduroy blazer. Taut features and black hair. The full package of cynicism and strength and blue eyes that never missed a detail.

  She paused for a moment to meet the silent question in those eyes. But she had too many discomfiting emotions, too many unanswered questions of her own running through her head to be in a good place to deal with him right now. When Marcus bumped her on his way out of the elevator, she took off, too, wildly hoping that Gabe was getting on that elevator and leaving.

  But she knew better.

  Gabe followed her through the cubicle maze to her desk. “I came to see you,” his deep, low voice announced. With that and a cheery good morning from Jim at his desk, Olivia changed course and headed for the long hallway and interview rooms on the far side of the third floor. “Chief Taylor said I could sit in on meetings and interviews related to Dani’s case. Maybe share some insight on what your team has come up with. I promise I won’t publish any details on the case until—”

  She interrupted his explanation with a pleading hand. “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’ve got strings to pull, but I can’t do this right now.” She opened the first empty room and stepped inside.

  But her efforts to shut out the rest of the world for a little while were thwarted by a big foot, a strong arm and the rest of Gabe Knight coming in after her. The businesslike timbre of his voice changed as he quietly closed the door behind him. “You okay?”

  Great. Now she was cornered. Olivia whirled around. “I wish everyone would stop asking me that.”

  “Everyone?” He stepped toward her, his demeanor infuriatingly calm. “What’s wrong?”

  Olivia was either ready to blow, or to burst into tears, and she wasn’t about to do either one in front of an audience. She hugged her right arm over her sling and faced the corner of the room, willing her Irish blood to simmer down. “Leave me alone.”

  That clean, starchy scent filled her nose when he closed the distance between them. “Is this about the case? Something that guy on the elevator said? I saw him try to talk to you last night. What’s got you so upset?”

  The firm grasp at her elbow felt like caring concern and burst the dam of emotions she’d struggled to hold in check.

  “Upset?” Olivia turned on Gabe, nudging him back toward the door. “What makes you think I’m upset? What business is it of yours, anyway?” She meant to shove him right out the door. But her hand lingered on his chest, her fingers digging into pressed cotton and warm skin. “Someone tried to kill me yesterday. Tried to kill me and a civilian who shouldn’t even be involved in a police investigation. I’m trying to solve a case that a mob boss or some other sociopath doesn’t want me to. I lost potential evidence. I ruined my favorite jacket. My family wants to lock me up in an ivory tower and my stupid ex thinks he can...that I want him to...”

  The g
rip of her fingertips pulsed against Gabe’s chest, absorbing heat and muscle and the bold rhythm of his heart. Olivia snatched her hand away. Why was she telling him all that? Way to go, Watson. Add falling for a man she shouldn’t even like to the list of conflicts she had to deal with before reporting for roll call this morning.

  She splayed her fingers in the air. “Can’t a woman have five minutes of peace and quiet for herself?”

  “Is that what you need?”

  “Yes!”

  With a curt nod, Gabe reached behind him and opened the door. When he closed it behind him, Olivia curled her hand around the knob, ready to shut it in his face when he tried to come back in. She held her breath, gasped, pressed her lips together, then pressed them tighter when she felt the salty grit of tears stinging her sinuses. No way was she going to give him the blackmailable advantage of seeing her bawl like an out-of-control little girl when he came back in.

  Only, he didn’t.

  The door stayed closed. The room stayed silent.

  Olivia pulled her fingers from the knob, not quite trusting the reprieve. She glanced up at the camera in the corner, glad to see the power light wasn’t glowing. Although without a suspect in interrogation, there was no reason for it to be on. Was she really alone? When the silence continued, she dropped her guard and gave in to one sniffling sob.

  Not exactly a bawling schoolgirl. Still, she didn’t feel quite right—not her usual self, by any means.

  Raking her fingers through her hair, Olivia sank into a chair and tried to pinpoint exactly what had set her off. Or maybe it’d be easier to figure out what hadn’t.

  She hated that Marcus could get under her skin like that. Although, she had to admit there was more suspicion and indignation than any kind of hurt when she thought of her ex. What if he was the driver who’d been following her for several days now? What was his game? Why torment her? Did he really think she had any interest whatsoever in taking him back? Even if she did still feel something for him, she was too smart to fall for his lines again. It would only be a matter of time before he lied or cheated and hurt her again.