In Bed with the Badge

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Can’t say I’m feeling too hopeful,” he admitted, putting the key into the ignition and turning it. The car started. “So far, beyond the essentials of eating and doing a few basic things involved with getting ready to face the day, the professor’s two days don’t sound as if they have anything in common with the Hayworths’ two days.”

  “Keep the faith, Wyatt,” she urged as they backtracked their way off the campus. “The day is still young.”

  He blew out a breath as he just missed a light that would have allowed him to get onto the main thoroughfare. Where was all this impatience coming from? “Yeah, but I feel like I’m getting older by the minute.”

  She smiled at him. “You’ll feel young again once we make a breakthrough.”

  But they didn’t and consequently, he didn’t.

  The case began to wear on Sam. Riley was right, they were missing something in plain sight and it frustrated the hell out of him.

  Once they were finished taking information from the Marstons and the Wilsons, it was time to clock out for the day.

  True to her word, Riley followed him to Brenda’s house where they picked up Lisa. The little girl was nothing short of overjoyed when she saw Riley. The second she did, Lisa ran up to her and, standing on her toes, she wrapped her small arms around Riley. Lisa held on tightly and had to be coaxed to let go, which she did only after Riley promised to come over.

  A warm feeling spread through Riley as she caught a glimpse of the three of them in Brenda’s hall mirror when they were leaving the house.

  They looked like a real family, she thought.

  She’d never thought of herself in those terms before. Never really thought about being a wife or a mother. But now, there it suddenly was, front and center. And the idea had a charm and a pull that was very difficult to ignore.

  Too bad, Riley thought as she adjusted the straps on Lisa’s car seat, that it was never going to happen.

  A pattern began to form. A pattern Riley knew she could easily get accustomed to and one that she was equally aware that she shouldn’t allow.

  It was happening anyway.

  By day, she and Wyatt were professional partners, working feverishly to handle all the cases they caught while still seeking that one breakthrough. They needed to solve what had become a major obsession with the news media: the home invasion robberies.

  And then, most nights, they were lovers, burning away the edges of the night until it was time for her to finally go back to her house.

  Every time she did, she would find Howard waiting up for her like a doting grandfather, an indulgent, knowing expression on his face.

  “So how’s it going?” the retired engineer asked after another three weeks had passed.

  “The case?” she responded.

  He waved his hand at that. “I know you can’t talk about an ongoing case—Egan taught me that,” his voice swelling with pride the way it always did whenever he mentioned his late son. “And everything else I want to know about them is plastered all over the news anytime I want to catch up. No, I’m asking how’s it going with you and that young man you’ve been keeping company with?”

  Keeping company with. What a lovely, old-fashioned term for what she and Wyatt did together. Four weeks since the first time and the lovemaking was only getting better. Hotter. If it became any more so, she would need the fire department on standby.

  “What makes you think I’m ‘keeping company’ with anyone?”

  “You’ve got the same glow my Katie did when we were,” and here he cleared his throat, whether because he needed to or by design wasn’t evident, “keeping company. Is it that partner of yours?” he asked, then smiled. “It is, isn’t it? Nice-looking boy,” he said with a nod. “Hair’s a little long for my taste, but he seems all right otherwise. He treating you well?” Howard asked.

  “Howard, I think you’ve just exceeded your allotment of questions.”

  “Because if he isn’t,” Howard continued as she walked up her driveway toward her front door, “you just send him on to me and I’ll set him straight.”

  It was hard not to laugh, given that the man had the body of a large Halloween skeleton, but she wouldn’t have hurt Howard’s feelings for the world. “Good night, Howard,” she called out.

  “Good night, Riley. Sleep tight.”

  Sleep fast, she corrected silently, because there weren’t all that many hours left until daylight and her shift arrived.

  But as well intentioned as Howard’s concern was, it stirred up some questions that hovered in the back of her mind, questions she would have rather put off. Questions she knew she had to face eventually.

  This “thing” with her and Wyatt wasn’t a fling anymore, or just a flirtation that had temporarily deepened and she knew it. It had become so much more. She was attached to Lisa and, what was worse, she realized she was falling in love with Wyatt.

  What falling? she silently jeered as she got ready for work the following day. She’d already fallen for the man, hook, line and sinker. For better or for worse, she was there, treading through No Man’s Land, most likely alone because even as she felt the words “I love you” bubbling up in her throat, threatening to come spilling out of her mouth, she was almost certain those same words would not be echoed back to her.

  Except maybe out of a sense of guilt.

  No, Wyatt wasn’t the type to do anything because he felt guilty. There wasn’t even a token “I love you” in her future and she knew it.

  Riley sighed. She needed to put a stop to this romance, to back away before she couldn’t. But even as she gave herself the pep talk, she knew it would be more than difficult to end things between them. Still, she knew she had to make a concerted effort.

  So much easier said than done.

  Even as she tried, she found herself blocked at every turn. Each time she wanted to offer an excuse, to say no, that she couldn’t go with him to pick up Lisa, the words never emerged.

  Instead, she said, “Sure,” and went along, basking in the bright light she saw in Lisa’s eyes every time the little girl saw her.

  After that, staying for dinner was a given. Besides, there were cooking lessons involved. She wasn’t even sure how it started, but somehow she gave Lisa simple cooking lessons and the two of them would prepare dinner together.

  That had to stop, too.

  Soon.

  This time, on the trip home, Lisa was fairly bursting with news, but she kept it in until they walked into the apartment.

  “Tonight,” Lisa declared the moment the door was closed, “you don’t have to cook, Riley. We’re having pizza. My treat,” she declared proudly, beaming.

  “How is this going to be your treat?” Riley asked, looking toward Wyatt. But he indicated that his lips were sealed.

  “I get an allowance,” Lisa informed her with a little toss of her head. “Daddy gives me money and I saved it up, so this is my treat,” she repeated, her eyes dancing with glee.

  Riley exchanged looks with Sam. Lisa had just called him Daddy. Not Sam, but Daddy. Was this the first time? One glance at the surprised expression on his face gave her the answer. She had intended to begin the weaning process tonight, begging off from dinner and then, within a few days, from the ritual of picking Lisa up at Brenda’s. But how could she say no after this? Lisa had just called Wyatt something other than his given name and offered to pay for the dinner with her own money. Turning the little girl down would be heartbreaking. For both of them.

  So she said yes and she stayed.

  But Riley promised herself that the moment the little girl was tucked into bed, she was going home. Tonight, there would be no lovemaking, no getting lost in Sam’s arms. Tonight was going to be the beginning of the rest of her life. Without Sam.

  Much as she didn’t want to, Riley knew she had to take a stand somewhere. And this was somewhere.

  Bedtime came all too quickly. She followed the ritual, getting Lisa ready for bed, then reading to her. She’d stumbled a f
ew times. The lump in her throat kept getting in the way. But finally, Lisa drifted off to sleep.

  The moment she did, Riley crept out of Lisa’s room. She made her way to the living room. Expecting to see Sam, she was relieved when she didn’t. Grabbing her purse, she quickly made her way to the front door.

  “Where are you going?”

  She froze when she heard his voice behind her. Without turning around, she answered, “I’ve got to go home.”

  Walking around to face her, Sam took the purse from her hand. That smile that always burrowed into the pit of her stomach, creating a squadron of butterflies, was on his lips. “No, you don’t.”

  Telling herself to be strong, Riley reclaimed her purse, pulling it out of his hand. “Yes, I do,” she insisted.

  The teasing expression on his face faded. Concern entered his eyes as he searched her face. “Something wrong?”

  “No. Yes.” Damn, why did he always make her feel so tongue-tied? No one else ever did.

  A hint of steely amusement curved his lips. “I didn’t realize I asked a multiple-choice question.”

  “You didn’t.” Sighing, she tried again. “Look, this has been great—”

  Has been. As in the past. Something was wrong. Sam braced himself. “But?”

  Taking another breath didn’t help. The ache she felt kept growing. “But it has to stop.”

  He wanted to grab hold of her shoulders and shake some sense into her head. It took extreme restraint just to stand there and ask, “Why?”

  Such a simple word, so fraught with intense repercussions. “Because it’s not going anywhere.”

  Was she pressing him for a commitment? Or trying to find a way out? Or was she just testing him? “Why does it have to ‘go’ somewhere? Why can’t it just be?” he asked. “Sometimes things just have to remain the way they are in order to go forward later.”

  “Later” was a vague word that kept company with “never.” This had to stop now, before the disappointment got too big for her to handle.

  “Maybe,” she allowed, letting him think she might agree with him. “But right now, I need to sort things out, think them through.”

  He would never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do, be anywhere she didn’t want to be. But letting her walk away, even for an evening, wasn’t easy. “All right,” he finally said. “If that’s what you want.”

  No, that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him. And Lisa. She knew that wasn’t going to happen, not in the way she needed it to. Squaring her shoulders, she murmured, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As she put her hand on the doorknob, he asked, “No goodbye kiss?”

  She looked at him over her shoulder, still holding onto the doorknob, as if that could somehow ground her. “If I kiss you goodbye, I won’t leave.”

  “Sure you will.” Sam turned her around and drew her into his arms. “You’re stronger than that.”

  But she wasn’t.

  Chapter 14

  Sam Wyatt was a dirty fighter. There was no other way to view what had happened but that, Riley thought several hours later when she finally got into her car and drove home. Once Wyatt kissed her, it was all over.

  She and Sam made love. But even though every fiber of her being wanted to remain, locked tightly in his arms, she forced herself to leave after only a heavenly two hours had gone by. The earliest she’d left his apartment since they had begun sleeping together—or not sleeping together as the case was.

  She should have been stronger than that, Riley upbraided herself. She used to be stronger than that. What was wrong with her?

  Tomorrow, Riley solemnly swore. Tomorrow she was going to be stronger. Tomorrow she’d leave right after Lisa went to bed, no wavering, no second thoughts, no side glances at Wyatt that only undermined her resolve. She’d make Wyatt read the bedtime story to his daughter instead of her and then slip out while he was busy.

  It sounded like a plan.

  Well, she tried to console herself, at least Howard would get to bed earlier tonight. Howard. Funny how her eccentric neighbor had taken her under his wing like that, appointing himself her guardian angel. Lately it seemed like most of their exchanges took place just before she walked into her house.

  She would invite him next time the chief held another party at his place. With work—and Sam—taking up so much of her time, she’d gotten out of the habit of extending invitations to the older man. She needed to remedy that, remembering how difficult it had been the first time around. Riley turned off the main drag and into her development. For the most part, despite his apparent adoption of her, the retired engineer liked to keep to himself. In the three years she’d lived next door to him, she’d only seen one visitor enter the house and that had been his other son, Ethan, visiting from back east.

  As she approached Howard’s house, she saw that, as usual, he’d left his porch light on. Riley smiled. A beacon on the runway to guide her home, she mused.

  She began to slow down to almost a crawl, giving Howard a chance to get up from the window seat where he had kept vigil lately and open the front door.

  But the front door didn’t move.

  Odd. Howard never failed to come out, even that time he was fighting a cold. It was as if all the pieces of his world weren’t in place until he bid her good-night and saw her go into her own place.

  Pulling up into her driveway, Riley turned off her ignition and waited a moment before getting out. There was still no movement at the other house.

  Maybe Howard had finally decided she was a big girl, Riley thought with a smile. Or gotten what his son had called his obsessive-compulsive disorder under control. Whatever the reason, it didn’t look as if she’d be saying good-night to him tonight.

  Key in hand, Riley was about to insert it into her door when she sighed, pocketed the key and doubled back down the front path. Moving around the plum tree that separated their two properties, she walked up to Howard’s porch.

  Something wasn’t right, she could feel it. Howard wouldn’t just leave the porch light on and go to bed. It wasn’t like him. Though leaving an outside light on was considered a deterrent against amateur burglars, she knew that Howard stubbornly considered it a flagrant waste of electricity and money.

  When ringing the doorbell twice got no response, Riley knocked on the man’s door. Hard. Head cocked, she listened intently for the familiar shuffling sound that meant he was approaching.

  Nothing.

  “Howard?” she called out, knocking again. Her uneasiness growing, Riley tried the doorknob. It gave under her hand.

  Howard never left his door unlocked.

  Training had Riley pulling out her service weapon and taking off the safety.

  “Howard?” she called again, slowly pushing open the door. Light not just from the porch but from the city street light that was situated directly behind Howard’s mailbox illuminated the dark living room. It took her a moment to focus.

  Riley’s heart slammed into her chest the second she saw the slumped figure on the floor. Howard was tied to a dining room chair and the chair was over on its side. Howard’s mouth, arms and legs were bound tightly with duct tape.

  The home invaders had been here, right here, on her home territory!

  Riley felt sick to the bottom of her stomach and incredibly violated.

  Her first impulse was to untie Howard, to remain with him and assure herself that he was all right. But the cop in her knew that she needed to clear the area first because if the robbers were still here, it could go badly for her, not to mention Howard.

  They didn’t kill their victims, she silently insisted, trying to comfort herself as she began to sweep through the rooms. Moving as quickly as she could and exercising just the barest minimum of caution, Riley swiftly swept through the rooms as best she could. It was harder than she’d expected.

  Howard had done some really heavy-duty collecting since he’d last had her over, she noted. Books of all kinds, magazines, record albums were p
iled from floor to ceiling in several of the rooms, challenging anyone to get through or even access certain areas. The man was a serious pack rat—and she prayed that he would be able to spend a great many more years feeding his compulsion.

  Done, Riley hurried back to her neighbor, pausing only in the kitchen to get a pair of scissors out of his utility drawer.

  That, too, proved to be a challenge. All sorts of things were jammed into the drawer, as well as all the other drawers. Howard had never come across anything he wanted to throw out.

  Finally finding the scissors, Riley rushed back into the living room. Dropping to her knees, she carefully began to cut apart the duct tape wound around him as tightly as a cocoon.

  She was only halfway through when Howard groaned, sounding like a man struggling to wake up from a bad dream. There was the distinct odor of chloroform about him.

  The irony of the situation was appalling to Riley. There she and Wyatt were, methodically trying to track down the home invaders and meanwhile, the larcenous duo had struck right under her nose. The worse part of it was that it had happened while she and Wyatt were busy making love.

  But if she’d come home earlier, the invaders might not have struck yet and she’d have gone to bed, she realized. She wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until the following night. She hardly even saw Howard before she left in the morning.

  Something about the scenario didn’t feel right, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

  Removing the last of the tape, she sat back on her heels, waiting for Howard to come around. His breathing was normal, and when she pressed her fingers to his throat, she found that his heart rate was only slightly elevated. At least the bastards hadn’t given him a heart attack.

  She placed a call to the firehouse located three miles from her development. After identifying herself and giving her shield number, she asked the person on the other end of the line to send a couple of paramedics over. She wanted them to check out Howard just in case.