TRUTH OR LIES

by Kylie Brant

  "What happened to your patient?"

  His words jerked her attention back to the car and the man who looked all too natural driving it. "What patient?"

  "Back at the hospital you said you still had a patient to tend to. But it was only ten minutes or so before you headed for the doors."

  The reminder had Shae's mouth turning down. "Oh." She lifted a shoulder. "I was hoping I'd convinced a woman to spend the night at a shelter. Or at least let me admit her overnight."

  "But she bolted?"

  The memory of her earlier frustration and helplessness came flooding back. She leaned back into the soft leather seat and rested her head against the backrest. "Someone signed her out. Probably the same guy who put her in that cast and blacked both her eyes."

  "And you're afraid she'll be back."

  The accuracy of his statement, its matter-of-fact delivery, turned her pensive. "I'm afraid she won't be. I'm afraid next time she'll go straight to the morgue."

  He was silent a long time. When he spoke, he uttered none of the platitudes that were so useless, so annoying. "Yeah, those are some of the toughest ones. Used to run into them frequently when I was on a beat, answering domestic calls. Most often the woman wouldn't press charges, so we knew the guy was going to spend his night in jail and go home again, maybe be even worse."

  Of course, she hadn't considered that. As a cop, Cade would have run into many situations like the ones she encountered in the E.R. Shae had even heard once that cops and emergency-room personnel were attracted to each other because they were both adrenaline junkies. She'd always thought that was a bunch of bull. People chose their careers out of personal need and preferences. And most often chose their partners out of weakness.

  Shae made it a point to never be weak.

  "It's the kids who always get to me the most," he murmured, surprising her. She opened her eyes, turned to look at him. His profile was shadowed, all planes and angles. In the darkness he looked more than a little dangerous. Untamed. "When there are kids in the house, and you can just about bet that something violent is going on, but no one's talking. So I have to turn around and go back to the car, knowing in my gut that I've just turned my back on them in more ways than one. Even though I have no other choice. I'd rather take a blade between the ribs."

  He stopped abruptly then, but not before his words had struck a chord. He'd see things in his line of work to rival what she experienced in hers. He'd have some similar frustrations when his assistance proved too little or too late.

  She looked away, shaken, gazing sightlessly out the window. It would be unwise to allow herself to feel an affinity for the man beside her. Unwiser still to let herself feel anything at all. He exuded a sexy masculine confidence that would be all too appealing under normal circumstances. Circumstances where she could set the boundaries and control the situation. A casual no-strings relationship that could be entered into and exited from under her terms.

  Nothing about Tremaine struck her as casual, and he certainly didn't appear to be the sort of man who let anyone else take control. Recognition of this kept her wary. That, coupled with the fact that he was a cop, should be enough to keep temptation firmly in check.

  Just the acknowledgment that she was tempted was disturbing enough to have her welcoming his change of subject. But her reaction was short-lived.

  "You seem pretty certain that your caller today was your father."

  "He hasn't changed much. He doesn't like to take no for an answer. Something the two of you have in common."

  He ignored the dig to continue contemplatively, "There's another possibility, you know." The note in his voice filled her with trepidation. Although she hadn't considered it until that moment, she knew what he was going to say. "Maybe it wasn't your father who was calling you today at all. Maybe it was LeFrenz."

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  Everything in Shae recoiled from the thought. "You're reaching, Detective. LeFrenz isn't going to contact me, and even if he did, the last place he'd try is the hospital."

  "How do you know?"

  Cade's blunt response had her scrambling for logic. "Because … it's too risky."

  He made a sound that might have been a snort. "Nice try. What's the risk—that someone might recognize his voice? That the police would tap the hospital phone lines? Think about it, Shae. There's nothing stopping him from contacting you in just that way."

  She forced herself to consider the possibility before rejecting it again. "I'm still unconvinced. And it's futile to debate it."

  "There'll be nothing to debate if you start answering your calls. Want to prove me wrong?" The hint of dare in his voice had her turning her head to look at him. "If you get more calls tomorrow, answer them. Then we'll know for sure."

  He pulled into the parking lot of a small restaurant lit by a garish neon sign proclaiming it the location of the city's best po'boys. "I guarantee their sign is as much truth as advertising. What do you want?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing." She was both surprised and relieved when he got out of the car, leaving it running, and jogged to the building. Any appetite she might have had earlier had abruptly dissipated at Cade's suggestion about the origin of her calls today.

  It was totally unlikely, she thought stubbornly. Possible, maybe, in a broad stretch of the word, but unlikely. The sheer volume of the phone calls suggested someone bent on talking to her, and the man she knew with that kind of perseverance wasn't a threat to her, just to her peace of mind. Ryan O'Riley would continue to pester her until he got his way or was convinced of the futility of his quest. She knew from experience what it would take to convince him. The task was distasteful, but hardly alarming. And she wasn't going to allow Tremaine to see specters of LeFrenz behind every perfectly normal detail in her life. She wasn't going to fall into that pit.

  By the time Tremaine had returned to the car with a sack in his hand, she'd quelled her initial apprehension. The man wanted to capture the escaped suspect so badly he was grasping at straws. Or else he was deliberately trying to frighten her, to make her more pliable and cooperative. She gave a small smile. He'd soon find that pliable wasn't a description that fit her at all.

  But when she sought to continue the discussion where they'd left off, Cade leaned forward, turned on the CD player. After fiddling with an array of buttons and knobs, a blues tune filled the air, a saxophone wailing a mournful note. He'd left the volume on a shade too high, just loud enough to make further conversation difficult. Shae settled back in her seat, resigned. The issue of LeFrenz would be resolved tonight, despite his machinations.

  It was that intent that kept her silent once they'd reached her apartment. She didn't protest when he insisted on accompanying her up to her apartment, although she did throw him a narrowed look when he brought along the sack he'd gotten from the restaurant. But that inner peace began to dissolve rapidly when he entered her apartment ahead of her and set the bag of food on her kitchen counter.

  Skirting the center island, he walked into the kitchen and started opening cupboards. "Where do you keep your plates?"

  Brushing by him, she barely restrained an urge to send her elbow into his stomach. The man redefined the term pushy. "I could give you a paper plate and you could take the sandwich to go."

  Taking napkins out of the holder she had next to the stove, he said, "I wouldn't want to leave you to eat alone."

  When she turned back to him with a plate in her hand, he reached past her to withdraw another from the cupboard she'd just closed. "I bought you a sandwich, too. You said you hadn't eaten today."

  "I never said—"

  "You never admitted it, but I concluded. I do that a lot. Draw conclusions, I mean. That's why I'm a detective." When she only looked at him, a corner of his mouth quirked. "Come on, we're only sharing sandwiches. How frightening can that be?"

  "Annoying is the word I'd use," she snapped, snatching the plates from his hands and marching back to the kitc
hen counter. "And in your case, the answer would be extremely." He proved the description particularly apt when he rummaged in her refrigerator and withdrew two bottled waters.

  "Would it make you feel better to discuss the case while we're eating?" The look he threw her was deceptively innocent.

  "It would make me feel better if you were eating alone in your car on the way home. To your home." Resigned, she watched him unwrap food and arrange it on plates until the counter looked like a cozy arrangement for two. Abruptly the situation took on an intimacy she was anxious to deny. "Look, Tremaine—"

  "Sit down." He used his foot to push out the chair next to him and picked up his sandwich. "I make it a point never to eat with a woman who calls me by my last name. Bad for the digestion."

  "Given your behavior, I'm betting you get called a lot worse." He might have smiled at that; it was difficult to tell around the sandwich he was biting into. Shae's stomach growled. The tantalizing aroma of the food was a vivid reminder of just how long it had been since she'd eaten a real meal. She took another moment to weigh hunger against stubbornness. Hunger won.

  Sitting down beside him, she reached for the sandwich he'd put on her plate and bit into it with more than a modicum of frustration. As the spicy flavor exploded on her tongue, it was all she could do not to close her eyes in pleasure. Besides, she rationalized as she took another bite, he was right about one thing. She had to eat.

  It didn't embarrass her in the least that she was shoving her empty plate aside while Cade still had a quarter of his sandwich left. A glint of real amusement was in his eyes.

  "I like a woman who doesn't get all coy and delicate when she eats."

  Shae nearly laughed. "There's nothing coy or delicate about me, Detective. I'm mercenary enough to take a free meal when it comes my way, even knowing that you're not going to like the outcome of this evening."

  He didn't seem particularly bothered by her words. "I'm not? Why?"

  "Because I'm going to contact your superior officer and insist that he call off all officers assigned to watch me." She paused a beat, before continuing meaningfully, "That includes you."

  He seemed to contemplate that while he finished eating. Then he wiped his mouth with his napkin and reached for his water. "Fair enough. I appreciate you telling me your plans up front."

  Something about his easy manner alerted her. "You don't believe me?"

  Bottle tilted to his lips, he nodded. Lowering it, he said, "Oh, I believe you. It just isn't going to do you any good."

  The feeling of well-being that had come from filling her stomach and forming a strategy abruptly vanished. Shae glared at him. "If I insist, the police will have to shift their investigation elsewhere…" Something in his expression alerted her. "Well, I'm certain I can convince your boss that he's wasting manpower by concentrating on me."

  "He wouldn't be hard to convince," Cade surprised her by saying. "But even if he does reassign the two men we have on you, I'm not going to be so easy to get rid of. Especially after those phone calls you got at work today."

  She closed her eyes in sheer frustration. "How many times do I have to tell you it was most likely my father?"

  "Maybe we can make sure of that." He nodded toward the answering machine at the end of the counter. Following the direction of his gaze, she saw that the light was blinking. "Why don't we see if anyone left messages for you today."

  Shae stared at the winking light for a moment, an unfamiliar sense of paralysis attacking her. Moistening her lips, she made no move toward the machine. Cade reached past her, held down the replay button. They listened in silence to the automated invitation for callers to leave a message. There was a string of clicks, as callers declined, then a man's voice filled the air between them. "Shae girl, you're a tough one to get hold of. But I'm still interested in that transaction we discussed. Call me at this number." Her father rattled off a cell-phone number she had no intention of calling. The rest of the tape elicited only several more clicks.

  When the machine fell silent, Shae released a breath she hadn't realize she'd been holding. She damned herself for allowing him to raise her anxiety. With arched brows, she asked, "Satisfied?"

  It was plain from the expression on his face that he wasn't. "Do you always get that many calls and hang-ups a day?"

  Exasperation filled her. "Telemarketers are responsible, not your nefarious criminal."

  "I'm surprised you have many telemarketing calls with that thing." He nodded to the small device she had sitting next to her phone. "I heard they were pretty effective at decreasing calls from phone banks."

  "So it was my father. You heard him. He wants me to call him."

  "Maybe." The word was laced with doubt. She'd pay it no heed. This apartment had been the first real home she'd had since Liam had gone to live with their father. She was comfortable here, and she wasn't going to allow Tremaine to ruin that. She'd spent her entire childhood afraid to answer the phone or the door. Police hadn't been the only people looking for her father. His dealings with bookies, loan sharks and other low lifes had resulted in shady characters showing up at the house far too often. It was one more reason to despise the man. What kind of father would put his family at risk that way? The answer was plain.

  She got up and cleared the counter. Despite Cade's reservations, she wasn't going to start jumping at shadows, especially in the one place she could call her own. Her apartment suited her needs exactly, except for one thing: he was still inside it. "It wouldn't hurt for you to go home and grab some sleep. From the looks of you, you could use it."

  "Anxious to get rid of me?" He shook his head sadly. "Chauffeurs are so unappreciated these days."

  He'd managed to make her feel small and she fought the reaction. "I do appreciate the ride. And the meal. But I won't be needing either from you in the future. I'm in no danger from LeFrenz. I'm convinced of that, even if you aren't. I'm not letting you disrupt my life any more than you already have."

  Cade surveyed her, his head tilted to the side. "Used to arranging things to suit yourself, aren't you."

  Releasing an incredulous laugh, she jammed a hand into her hair. "Said the pot to the kettle."

  "Okay, then." But still he made no move to leave. "Have you contacted a security company yet?"

  "Yes," she said, relieved to forego another safety lecture. "I've already signed a contract."

  "Good. I'd like to look it over."

  Shae nearly ground her teeth. "Why?"

  "Because I want to be sure they're going to do everything I'd recommend. Who'd you end up going with?"

  "McNulty."

  He nodded approvingly. "They're good. Decent response time. Pricey, but they're worth it." He waited expectantly and finally she crossed to a desk against one wall, and withdrew the written agreement from a drawer. With little grace, she slammed it into his hands. Anything to get him out of here.

  The phone rang as he began skimming it. She froze for a moment, then looked at him, saw he'd noted her reaction. Spine straightening, she brushed by him to answer the phone, damning him for the nerves that had reared at the sound. She wasn't going to be afraid in her own home. She'd worked too hard for her tranquil existence to allow anyone to disrupt it.

  Her voice was a little more brusque than usual when she answered it. "Hello?" When she heard her brother's familiar voice, the nerves evaporated completely to be replaced by a familiar mixture of love and regret. "Liam. It's wonderful to hear from you."

  Aware of the man beside her, she deliberately turned away. With a discretion she wouldn't have credited him with, Tremaine moved to the recliner and sat down to read the contract she'd handed him, giving her a modicum of privacy.

  "How are you? I'm still planning to come see you this weekend." She hated the stilted note in her voice, the way her mind frantically searched for something to say to him, for some piece of normalcy. Nothing had been normal between them since he'd been sentenced two months ago. And there was certainly nothing normal in those aw
kward prison visits, with other inmates and guards looming nearby, a sense of hopelessness permeating the space. There had never been anything quite as painful as sitting across from her brother, both of them trying so hard to be positive for the other's sake. Both of them dying a little inside.

  "Is there anything I can bring you?" Hearing her brother's request lightened something inside her a fraction. "I've never been much of a baker, but I think I can manage chocolate-chip cookies. I remember you're a connoisseur." They had a few more minutes to talk before his allotted time was up. It took several more moments for Shae to compose herself, to steel herself against Tremaine's inevitable curiosity. But when she finally turned to look at him, she didn't face a quizzical expression and a barrage of questions. He didn't say anything at all. He was asleep.

  The sheaf of papers rested against his chest, still clutched in one hand. His head was turned to the side, his breathing slow and even. His face wasn't any softer in sleep, but it was less guarded, the fatigue apparent. Shae had the feeling few were allowed to see the man this way. Sheer exhaustion had to be the cause for him exposing this unusual vulnerability. An exhaustion that made her strangely reluctant to awaken him.

  She stood watching him, undecided. He looked entirely too at home in her chair, in her apartment. His pose infused the place with a sense of intimacy she wanted violently to reject. He'd be more comfortable at home, she rationalized. She started toward him with the intent of shaking him awake. They'd both be more comfortable with him at his own place.

  But when Shae stood next to the chair, her hand stretched out toward his shoulder, something prevented her from following through. It was easiest to blame her reluctance on the physician in her. She was all too aware of how sleep-deprived he was. Given his recent trauma, rest was a vital part of his complete recovery. Her hand hovered in the air for a moment, then dropped to her side.