Hot Pursuit

by Jo Davis

  “This machine rocks,” he exclaimed for the third time.

  Taylor smiled at the young man in the rearview mirror. “My really cool car is at Chris’s place,” he said, gesturing to the man beside him. “You remember my partner, Shane? He, Chris, and I are working on my old Chevelle, fixing it up.”

  “Dude! You have a Chevelle? What year?”

  “’Sixty-nine.”

  “Shit,” the boy breathed in reverence. “If I had a car like that, I’d drive the hell out of it. I’d wash and wax it every weekend, and I’d never let it out of my sight.”

  “Yeah? That’s a worthy goal. Now you just have to save up some money.”

  “I’m getting a second job,” he said with enthusiasm, holding up the papers he’d fetched from the truck. “Since I only work for the band two days a week, that leaves me plenty of hours free to save up for an apartment and a car.”

  “Is that the reason for the new haircut and the clothes?”

  Blake’s voice was excited but laced with a bit of anxiety. “For the most part. I can’t show up at an interview looking like the street rat I was. Do I look okay?”

  “Kid, you look fantastic.” Taylor winked. “You’re gonna break some boy’s heart very soon.”

  “Boy?” Chris’s brows shot up as he got the memo.

  “You got a problem with that?” Blake fired back quickly.

  “No, not at all,” the detective said smoothly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Peace out, man. I say live and let live.”

  Taylor brought the topic back on track. “Looks like you’ve got it all figured out.” Blake settled down again. The tension had eased as quickly as it had flared.

  “Yeah, I hope so. My plans haven’t worked out so good until now, but I think I’m due.”

  “Definitely,” Taylor said. “You’re gonna make it. Besides, you’ve got us to support you.”

  “Me, too,” Chris put in. “Whatever I can do.”

  “Thanks, guys.” Blake’s voice had a suspicious catch in it, but everyone pretended not to notice.

  The hospital loomed ahead, and Taylor parked. They all ignored Cara’s grumbling as they trooped into the ER and a receptionist waved her over to begin the paperwork. Taylor looked at Chris as they hovered near a group of chairs.

  “Sorry about the side trip. You want me to call someone to take you back to the station?”

  “Naw, I’m good.”

  Blake eyed the other detective. “Man, you don’t look so hot. Maybe you should be in there getting checked out instead of Cara.”

  Chris shook his head. “I’m fine.” But his face was pale, and he reached up with a trembling hand to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead.

  Taylor frowned in concern. “He’s right. Why don’t we—”

  “Why don’t we forget about it?” he snapped, suddenly annoyed. “I’m not doing this right now. You know what? I think I’ll call for that ride after all.”

  “Sorry, dude.” Blake stared at Chris, then glanced between the two men, biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to stir up any shit.”

  Just like that, Taylor was pissed, too. Blake had been hurt enough in his young life. He didn’t need a simple statement meant as kindness being thrown back in his face. “You didn’t,” he hurried to assure the younger man. “You did nothing wrong.” He turned to take a chunk out of Chris, but the man was already contrite.

  “I’m sorry, Blake,” Chris said with a sigh. “I haven’t been myself lately, and I was an asshole for taking it out on you. Forgive me?”

  “Hey, we’re cool. Forget I said anything.” The apprehension still on his face belied his words.

  “No, you and Taylor are right. I’m going to make an appointment with my doctor today.”

  The younger man began to appear more at ease again. “Good deal.”

  Chris extracted his cell phone. “Excuse me while I give Shane a call, see if he can come get me.”

  “See you at the station,” Taylor said.

  “I don’t know,” the other man hedged. “I might ask Rainey if he’ll let me go home early.”

  Taylor watched Chris exit through the ER’s doors with a sense of dread. “I’ve known him for about a year and a half, since he moved to town to be near Shane, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him leave work early.”

  Blake was frowning. “Any idea what’s wrong with him?”

  “Could be a lot of things.” Taylor clapped Blake on the shoulder. “It’s not my place to say.”

  “I get it.”

  Just then, Cara walked over from the receptionist’s desk to join them. “Frigging paperwork. I could be dead by the time they call me back there.”

  “Don’t even joke like that,” Taylor said softly. Placing his hand at the small of her back, he urged her toward the seats. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

  He half-expected her to retort that she wasn’t an invalid, but he was pleasantly surprised. She went without a fuss, and they sat in comfortable silence until Blake piped up.

  “So, why did Chris move to town to be near Shane? They have a thing going on? Is Chrissy in denial?” He waggled his brows, and Taylor laughed.

  “God, no. For one, Shane’s straight and married. Second, he, his twin sister, Shea, and Chris are all cousins.”

  “Oh.” That obviously dashed his hopes of a police bromance going on.

  “Chris doesn’t have any other family left, so he came to Sugarland, looking for the connection he’d lost when his folks died.” He thought a moment. “It must be tough to be alone in the world with no family who loves you.”

  Blake’s gaze sobered. “Trust me, it is.”

  “Dammit, I’m sorry,” Taylor said with a groan. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  The younger man shook his head. “Why don’t we stop apologizing every time something uncomfortable comes up? I’m not that fragile.”

  “Sounds good.” His mouth tilted upward. “And you’re not fragile at all. You’re strong to survive what you have.”

  “Well, I’m going to do way better now, thanks to you guys.”

  For one unguarded moment, Cara smiled at the younger man, and Taylor’s world tilted. Stripped of her prickly attitude, the genuine kindness, the warmth, on her face blew him away. These glimpses of what he suspected was the real Cara were rare, but they made him long for one of those looks to be turned in his direction.

  “Cara Evans? Come on back.”

  A nurse was waiting patiently in the double doors leading into the ER’s examination area. When Taylor and Blake got up and followed, Cara tried to protest, to no avail. There was no way either of them was going to let her get away with downplaying her health if it turned out to be worse than they thought.

  They passed several numbered rooms, which were really just cubicles separated by either a solid wall or a curtain. Taylor wasn’t sure why some rated a wall as a divider and some didn’t, but he was no expert. Perhaps some emergency situations required more privacy.

  “Here we go,” the nurse said. “If you’ll step in here, the doctor will be with you shortly.” After casting him and Blake a curious glance, she left.

  “I’m surprised they let us come back with her,” Blake observed.

  “They’ll let us come this far, but if they have to take her back for a scan or whatever, we’ll have to stay here.”

  Cara sat with a resigned sigh. “You guys can take a walk or something. There’s really no need for us all to be bored, sitting around.”

  “Not happening,” Blake said staunchly. Taylor agreed.

  “Besides, Blake was in the same wreck,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t he get checked, too? Especially after what happened the other night.”

  Her gaze snapped to the younger man. “I should’ve thought of that. Taylor can take you to the registration desk.”

&
nbsp; “No way. I never even lost consciousness, and I’m not in any pain.”

  Taylor knew the truth: the boy didn’t want to feel as though he was in debt to them for another hospital bill. Blake wanted to pay him back and was about as stubborn as they came.

  In the end, he and Cara let the matter drop. Blake settled down, satisfied to have won that round. But they’d both keep a sharp eye on him, Taylor knew.

  The doctor came in almost a half hour later and examined Cara, checking all her vitals, the responsiveness of her pupils, and her reflexes.

  “You were in an accident?” the doctor inquired, peering into her eyes.

  “Yeah. Some jerk cut me off, and I ran into a telephone pole.”

  “You lose consciousness?”

  “Only for a minute or so.”

  “Hmm.” He paused, then rolled his stool back to address her. “I think you have a slight concussion, nothing too serious. But on the side of caution, I’m going to order a CAT scan. If it shows all is clear, which I’m guessing it will, then you’ll be free to go as long as there’s someone to watch you for the rest of the day and tonight. Do you have any family to stay with you?”

  “No,” she said quietly, giving Taylor the oddest look. “I had a sister, but she’s dead. My mother and I don’t get along very well and, besides, she doesn’t live close.”

  “I’ll watch her,” Blake said, beating Taylor to the punch. “I live with her right now, anyway, so that’ll be easy.”

  The doctor nodded. “Good. I’ll go order that scan.”

  Taylor was disappointed not to be the one taking care of her, though he shouldn’t be. He had to work, and even if he didn’t, he and Cara had just met. As much as he hated to admit it, Blake was her friend and had more right to see to her than he did.

  Well, that was a situation he planned to rectify as soon as possible.

  Almost two hours later, they were headed out the door. Cara had received the green light and had stopped grumbling now that she was free. In fact, she lapsed into blessed silence and began to doze in the passenger’s seat. Then her breathing evened out.

  “Guess the day caught up with her,” Blaze said from the back.

  “Was bound to happen.”

  She looked so vulnerable. Young. Seeing her like that did something weird to his heart.

  When he pulled up in front of her house, he gently shook her awake. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She stirred and blinked at him in confusion. “We’re at your house. Let’s get you inside.”

  She didn’t protest as he and Blake ushered her into the house and herded her down a hallway and into the bedroom the younger man indicated. Amazingly, she settled on the bed without protest and began to drift off. As her eyes shut, she must’ve been too tired to protest when he touched her face gently, then kissed her forehead. They left her, pulling the door shut quietly, and went back into the living room, where Taylor stood uncertainly.

  “I don’t want to leave her, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “I’ve got this,” Blake assured him. “Come by and check on her later if you want.”

  Taylor smiled. “She might not like you inviting me here.”

  The boy shrugged. “She might be confused about what she wants, but it’s plain as day to me and anyone else who cares to notice that she’s into you. The stubborn little thing just needs a push, that’s all.”

  “More like a hard shove.”

  “I don’t think it’ll take much for her to give in.”

  Taylor regarded his young friend thoughtfully. “Any idea what her problem is with me? She blows hot and cold, and it’s driving me crazy.”

  “Not a clue, but I’m thinking someone took a giant shit on her at some point,” he guessed. “You gotta be patient.”

  “Yes, thank you, oh, wise one,” Taylor joked.

  “Hey, you asked.”

  “That I did.” Giving the boy a playful shove, he headed for the door. “Tell her I’ll be back later.”

  “Will do. I’m sure she’ll be waiting with baited breath.”

  “Smartass.” With a laugh, he left.

  His humor didn’t last. Thoughts of Blake and Cara being run off the road, and how much worse that story could’ve ended, tormented him all the way back to the station. By the time he arrived, he had a singular focus.

  Search the entire fucking city for a dark SUV that might have been brought into a body shop with damage to the right rear quarter panel or bumper.

  Find the bastard and make him pay.

  6

  Cara awoke slowly, the aroma of something rich filling her senses. Tantalizing her and making her mouth water.

  Stretching, she peered at the digital clock by the bed and wondered how she’d lost almost four hours. She’d gone out like a snuffed candle—one second conscious, the next fading fast into nothingness. Her last clear memory was of riding in Taylor’s awesome car, the purr rumbling in her head. The scent of his cologne drifting to her nose, making her feel surrounded by his strength.

  And then being tucked into her bed, his hand caressing her face. His lips kissing her forehead like a lover would. As though he genuinely cared.

  Taylor couldn’t care about her. It wasn’t possible. Despite his badge and the respect he seemed to command from his coworkers and friends, he was a liar at best, murderer at worst. Wasn’t he?

  Voices floated to her ears and she sat up in confusion. Two men were talking and laughing from somewhere in the house. One of them was Blake, and the other . . . No way. “Taylor?”

  Curious, she slid out of bed and stood, and got a head rush for her trouble. The accident, if it was just an accident, had taken more out of her than she’d realized, especially since she and Blake had spent almost a full day together before the incident. The dizziness passed and she left the bedroom, making her way down the hall. The sound of dinner in progress became clearer—the metallic scrape of a lid on a pot, the clang of the oven door, a timer going off. Whatever the smell was, it was damned tempting, and her stomach gave an angry growl.

  Entering the kitchen, she was about to call out, ask what was for dinner, but the sight before her stole her voice.

  Blake and Taylor were in a standoff across the island, rolled-up kitchen towels in hand. Each one was trying to anticipate the other’s move, ready to pursue or be pursued. Then Taylor lunged around the island to the right, popping his towel at the younger man, and Blake took off. Both were laughing like loons as Blake whirled and made a stand, snapping his towel in retaliation and catching his tormentor on the arm.

  “Ow!”

  “Take that, ya mangy dog!”

  “You’re gonna pay for that, little shit!”

  “Bring it, old man!”

  Cara watched them race around like ten-year-old boys and a smile bloomed on her face. They were completely unaware she was observing, and there was such unfettered joy in their game. Such innocence. Her attention was riveted on Taylor, on his smile that lit up the room. The unguarded happiness on his handsome face. Golden blond hair was disheveled, falling into green eyes that danced with mischief. She damned near forgot how to breathe.

  She must’ve made an involuntary noise, because both men froze, spotting her in the doorway. Taylor spoke first. “Hey! We made you dinner.”

  “It was my idea,” Blake insisted. “I made most of it.”

  “You boiled the noodles.”

  “And baked the chicken. All you did was make the sauce.” Blake managed to look down his nose at his mentor, even though he was shorter.

  “My Alfredo sauce is homemade, if you’ll remember. I wouldn’t touch that crap from the jar with a ten-foot pole, and it’s worth the effort.”

  Cara giggled. “Enough, you two. I’m sure I’ll love the dinner you both worked so hard to make for me.”

  Looking pleased, they stopped their good
-natured squabbling and led her into the dining room, where they made a fuss over getting her settled with a glass of iced tea. Impressed, she surveyed the table. They’d gone to some trouble, providing a Caesar salad, bread sticks, and chicken fettuccine Alfredo that looked positively divine.

  “Gosh, that smells so good,” she said, sitting forward in anticipation. “That’s what woke me, and I can hardly wait to dig in.”

  “Then let’s do it.” Reaching for her plate, Taylor filled it with a generous portion of salad and fettuccine.

  “Thanks.”

  They ate in silence for a few moments, and Cara studied the detective while trying not to outright stare. It wasn’t easy, however. The cop was the finest man to cross her path in a very long time. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would think if—no, when—he learned that their meeting would’ve happened eventually, even if they’d never hooked up at the Waterin’ Hole.

  She suddenly dreaded that day, when before she’d looked forward to outing him as a fraud and then slamming him with the truth of her identity. But the thing was, nothing about this man, from the moment they’d met, struck her as being the monster she’d been told about.

  Twirling some pasta on her fork, she addressed Taylor. “Have they caught the person who made us crash?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” The detective’s expression darkened. “I checked with every local body shop I could find, hoping to get a lead on an SUV that might have been brought in for repair, and so far nothing. Witnesses from the scene didn’t have much to add, according to the traffic officer on duty.”

  Blake spoke up. “I doubt the driver would be dumb enough to take his vehicle somewhere local for body work after committing a hit-and-run. He’d go outside the area.” The boy took a bite of his bread stick. “At least that’s what I’d do, if I was a piece of shit like him.”

  “Good point.” Taylor sipped his wine. “I’ll broaden the search area tomorrow.”

  Cara had the feeling he would’ve done that anyway, but was acknowledging that Blake was using good thinking. Despite her reservations, her opinion of him went up a notch.