“Animals have instincts. People have common sense.” His offhand tone took the sting from the words. “Sex complicates things.”
“What’s complicated about sex?” Sleeping together and friendship weren’t mutually exclusive. The problem, Rachel admitted reluctantly, was that Russ stirred her in ways she didn’t fully understand. Maybe she did the same to him, or maybe he was being self-protective. “Okay, okay. Point taken.” Moving on, she inquired, “What kind of video games do you have?”
He regarded her dubiously. “That’s it? You say ‘Point taken’ and then we duke it out on a virtual battlefield?”
“Yep,” Rachel said. “Bet I can mop up the floor with you.”
“Bet you can’t.”
They adjourned to the living room. While she was deciding which of several dozen games to choose, she told him about the attention Connie’s ring had inspired at the station.
Russ glanced at her warily. “You told everyone you’re engaged?”
“Hard to avoid, with me wearing this rock.” She flipped through an online menu. “Didn’t you mention it to the other docs?”
“We don’t talk about our personal lives.”
“If you showed up wearing a ring, every female within ten yards would notice.”
He didn’t comment. The fellow obviously wasn’t used to the office banter that Rachel took for granted.
“I made my choice.” She held up a disc. “Prepare to be pounded into the ground.”
“By you and which hockey team?”
Those were fighting words. They plunged into the game, battling across continents and solar systems, better matched than Rachel had expected.
She won, all the same.
Chapter Nine
Perhaps because he retired earlier than usual, Russ had trouble falling asleep. Usually he lost consciousness instantly, a habit he’d developed during his internship, but tonight his body hummed with an awareness of Rachel’s fire and her lack of inhibitions.
Her nearness threatened to drive him past his usual caution. Imaginings haunted him, fantasies about wild passion. But that wasn’t his style. In the long run, his nature demanded a more-temperate pairing and an orderly life. An intense involvement could only end in recriminations that might hurt them both. And possibly Lauren, as well.
Unable to relax, Russ arose and pulled a robe over his pajamas. He decided to check on Lauren.
In the glow of a night-light, her petite shape huddled beneath the pink coverlet. Brown hair spread on the pillow and one arm encircled Officer Bud. He watched the light motion of her breathing, swept by the realization that she was really here. Not a visitor or an abstract notion, but a distinct individual. His daughter.
In the two and a half days since they’d met, Russ had been too busy to reflect on the larger picture. Tonight, in his heart, he’d made a commitment to stick with his daughter, and that meant a future shaped by her personality, needs and growth. He prayed he wouldn’t let her down.
The sight of her sleeping so peacefully contrasted sharply with Rachel’s painful tale. She’d been younger than Lauren and equally defenseless when she’d suffered abuse. Russ’s anger flared, not only for her but also for himself.
What he’d endured paled beside her experience. Still, cruelty took a long-term toll on a child’s psyche.
During junior high, several larger and tougher students had bullied him and his best friend, Mike Federov, ridiculing his slight stature and Mike’s mild-mannered nature. In high school, after a growth spurt left Russ gawky and rail thin, the same thugs and their pals had dealt out humiliation both physical and emotional.
Ashamed to show weakness, he’d hidden the bruises from his family. The few occasions when Russ had shared school-related concerns with his parents, he’d regretting doing so. They paid far too much attention to the latest child-rearing theories popular among their friends, and very little to his feelings.
In fourth grade, when he’d groused about receiving a C he believed was unfair, they’d complained to his teacher over his objections, which had embarrassed him and created tension in the classroom. A few years later, when he’d mentioned that several boys were singling him out for insults, they’d switched gears and demanded he stop complaining and solve his own problems. Despite their education and social consciences, Max and Lois McKenzie lacked the right instincts for providing emotional support.
So, in high school, he’d taken up bodybuilding. The added bulk and confidence he’d gained, along with a couple of off-campus fistfights, had discouraged the bullies. He’d also defended Mike, who’d more than repaid the favor by helping him conquer calculus. They’d remained friends ever since.
In the front room, Russ paused outside the office where he’d unfolded a bed for Rachel. She’d left the door ajar, and he glanced inside to make sure she was settled.
Through a window, light from a streetlamp revealed a splash of dark hair and an arm curved around what appeared to be a lump of fabric. Curiosity compelled him to move a few steps closer, until he discerned a doll so raggedy that only two button eyes remained of its face.
The doll obviously gave her comfort. Smiling, he withdrew, touched at discovering that the tough lady cop still had a little girl inside.
He returned to a master bedroom neatly appointed with an oak bedstead and bureau. Nothing old, nothing sentimental. Russ preferred not to grow attached to objects.
But he’d lost his heart to a little girl who was infinitely more precious than any object. That made him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t felt since adolescence.
Much as he liked Rachel, becoming physically involved would be a mistake. Russ wasn’t ready for that kind of closeness with a woman.
Fatherhood had too powerful a claim on him right now.
A PERSISTENT RINGING yanked Rachel out of a dream. She’d been searching through a maze for…Another jangle, and the rest vanished.
Lamplight at an unfamiliar angle reflected off a computer screen almost close enough to touch. She was, she recalled, in Russ’s office. Setting her doll aside, Rachel swung out of bed.
It was 10:17 p.m. She’d hit the hay half an hour ago, worn-out by a long day and seething emotions. Seemed a lot later, she mused as she stumbled into the living room.
Russ strode past her from the hallway. “I’ll handle it.” Was she imagining things or did the man wear crisply pressed pajamas?
He switched on the porch light. Rachel nearly withdrew until a shaky female voice requested her by name.
Russ turned with a puzzled expression. “You have a visitor.”
As Rachel peered out, cold air raised gooseflesh around the T-shirt and exercise shorts she’d worn to bed. “Hello?”
On the porch, Lisa Chin huddled inside a sweater. “I’m sorry to bother you. This guy peeked in my window and scared me. I was hoping you might check around.”
“You live in the neighborhood, don’t you?” Russ asked. “Come in.”
She moved into the room. “I’m Keri’s neighbor. I help at the day care.” The girl shivered.
“Tell me about this Peeping Tom,” Rachel urged.
“It was just a few minutes ago.” She’d been about to change for bed when she’d noticed a silhouette outside. “He was sneaking through the side yard when he glanced in my window. Sometimes I forget to shut the blinds completely.”
“You’re sure it was a male?”
“The shape and the way he walked, yeah.” Lisa kept her hands in her pockets. “I mean, you’re tall, but you don’t resemble a guy.”
Russ’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smile. He didn’t comment, however.
A Peeping Tom could be a nosy adolescent, a burglar casing the property or a potential rapist. “You should call in a report. The police will check it out,” Rachel advised. “Any chance you could identify him?”
“No, but…” Lisa’s nose wrinkled. “I was seeing this guy from school that I didn’t tell my parents about ’cause I’m not supposed to date. We broke up a f
ew weeks ago. In case it’s him, I’d rather not create a big fuss and upset my folks.” That clarified why she hadn’t come with a parent.
Rachel requested the boy’s name. “Gary Landau” didn’t ring a bell. If he’d been in trouble before, the matter hadn’t reached her ears. “Who did the breaking up?”
“Me.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Nothing like that,” she insisted. “Gary’s parents are in the middle of a divorce. He’s been upset. I’d hate for the cops to treat him like a criminal when he might just be…confused.”
“If you were my daughter, I’d want to know what was going on,” Russ pointed out.
Lisa sighed. “My parents are first generation. They have these superconservative ideas, like all I should do is study.” Returning to the subject of the prowler, she added, “I’ve heard that homeless people cut through here to sleep in the avocado grove. It was probably one of them.”
“Homeless people may be harmless or they may not. Hold on.” Hurrying into the office, Rachel pulled on heavier clothes and pocketed her badge and cell phone. She also retrieved the gun from the locked cabinet and brought a flashlight.
“I’ll see if anyone’s lurking in the bushes,” she told Lisa. “But you shouldn’t have left the house. If his goal was to draw you out, you fell right into the trap.”
Lisa gave a small gasp. “That didn’t occur to me.”
Fortunately, the girl hadn’t suffered any harm. “Tomorrow at school, talk to the guy. See if he’ll confess. And if this happens again, call the police for sure.”
“Don’t keep your parents in the dark,” Russ advised. “If there’s really a threat, I’m sure they’ll help.”
“Okay. Thanks so much!” Brushing bangs out of her eyes, Lisa headed for the door.
“Don’t leave yet, Lisa. I’ll escort you home,” Rachel said.
Russ placed a hand on Rachel’s arm and pulled her into the kitchen. “I don’t like you going out there alone,” he said quietly. “Why not let me handle this? It’s my neighborhood.”
She appreciated the protective instinct and hated to bruise a male ego, but they’d better square matters from the start. “Thanks, Doc, but you’re not trained. Stay here and keep an eye on Lauren.”
He appeared to be struggling against a desire to argue. Finally he said, “You’re the expert. If you need help, call me.”
If she required backup, she’d summon a uniform. Politely she responded, “I appreciate the concern.”
They returned to the front hallway where Lisa waited. The girl looked up and smiled. “I meant to tell you, Dr. McKenzie. Lauren’s a real cutie.”
“Thanks. The kid has more friends than I do,” Russ joked. Then he said, “Be careful out there, both of you.”
“You bet,” Rachel replied.
Outside, she assessed her surroundings as they walked toward Lisa’s street. The sky was partially overcast and the lighting was spotty, but thanks to the neatly trimmed landscaping, there were few hiding places.
The normally chatty Lisa fell silent, as if the shadowed night oppressed her. Darkness didn’t bother Rachel. She enjoyed night patrol, being alert and in charge while others slept.
On their way around the corner, she noticed that many of the houses had gone dark, while TV screens lit others. From a fenced yard, a dog yapped. Good. Noisy dogs discouraged burglars.
After Lisa slipped into her house, Rachel strolled to the end of the block, her rubber soles nearly silent on the sidewalk. Her gaze swept the scene for a furtive figure or anything out of place. Still, in a low-crime neighborhood like this, she bore in mind that an over-eager cop could prove a greater menace to the residents than an intruder.
Also, Rachel wouldn’t have been surprised to glimpse wildlife from the adjacent open area. Possums and raccoons frequently searched her condo development for leftover cat food, while coyotes hunted small mammals. She presumed they frequented Amber View as well.
Rachel circled onto a street parallel to Lisa’s, observing while listening in case an engine started. Tracing a license plate to this fellow Gary Landau would confirm Lisa’s suspicion.
All remained still. A few minutes later, about to retrace her path, Rachel hesitated at the edge of a footpath that ran between two unfenced yards. Her flashlight beam showed that it ended far to the rear, at a rise that led to the houses on Lisa’s block. It probably existed for the convenience of the development’s gardeners, but what an invitation to a trespasser, she mused.
Abruptly, atop the rise, a man’s shape loomed. Rachel reached into her pocket for the cell phone, but found only her iPod. She couldn’t believe she’d brought the wrong device. Damn!
Impossible to make out any features, but judging by the man’s confident stance, he was no teenager. Of course, he might be a resident—except that instead of retreating to the nearest house, he descended the slope, marking his way with a thin ray of light.
She switched hers off and eased close to a house, breathing low. The man’s movements remained cautious as he approached, but she didn’t believe he’d spotted her.
When a branch snapped under his foot, the silhouette halted and peered around. Watching for a movement, or afraid of detection? Although Rachel considered identifying herself, she decided to wait and watch.
The subject didn’t veer toward the rear door of either adjacent house. Instead, he continued down the path. In another minute he’d pass right by her.
Abruptly his presence activated a safety light on one roof, angled in such a way that it had missed Rachel. It gleamed off a gun gripped in his hand.
Damn. He was almost on top of her.
As the man dodged the glare, illumination shone across his face. Squinting, he caught sight of her shape. “Hey!”
Rachel was reaching for her weapon when she recognized the man as Keri’s father. That must be her house directly behind them. Better talk fast, because he was shifting his gun into position. “Chief Borrego! It’s Rachel Byers.”
He paused and peered closer. “Rache? What’re you doing here?”
“Checking on an informal prowler report.” She stepped forward. After a glance of acknowledgment, he tucked away his automatic.
The former Villazon chief surveyed her attire. “Very informal, I’d say.”
They repaired to the sidewalk. With the intruder apparently gone, Rachel saw no point in further stealth, so as they walked, she outlined Lisa’s visit. “What brings you out here?”
“I was spending the night at my daughter and son-in-law’s when Ken hopped out of bed and claimed he’d seen a thief. That’s how he put it, though as far as I can tell, nothing was stolen.” The chief nodded toward his weapon and, although Rachel hadn’t asked, explained, “I have a permit. In case you hadn’t heard, I’ve become a private investigator. Just opened an office in town.”
“Wasn’t going to bust you.” Gossip had placed him at an investigative agency in Santa Ana. He must have moved recently, probably to be close to Keri.
When she’d served under him, Rachel had been aware of Borrego’s reputation for hard drinking, and his raunchy sense of humor had stemmed from the days before sensitivity training. But he’d always treated her fairly.
She didn’t excuse the man’s wrongful behavior. He’d hurt the department and Elise with his harassment, and he’d tolerated misconduct from one of his top lieutenants. However, he’d lost both his job and his marriage. Must have had an impact, because even in the patchy darkness, she could see he’d replaced his beer gut with muscle and gained a briskness in his gait.
They agreed that the prowler was most likely either a homeless person, a confused ex-boyfriend as Lisa had suggested, or a kid who lived close by. By now, apparently he’d either gone indoors or left the area.
When the conversation became more general, she learned that Vince was renting an apartment in Villazon. He’d lost his house to his ex-wife.
“My grandkids are growing up,” he told Rachel. “I missed m
ost of Keri’s childhood, working long hours and partying afterward. No more of that. I’m a regular attendee at Alcoholics Anonymous and I quit smoking, too.”
“Good for you.” To her surprise, he continued alongside her past Keri’s house. “Aren’t you going in?”
“My daughter says you’re engaged.” Lamplight brought out the deep wrinkles around Vince’s eyes, a testament to former bad habits. “She speaks highly of your fiancé. Okay if I meet him?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind that he’s in his pajamas.” She didn’t see why he was so eager, though. “Why not wait? You’ll probably run into him at the day care center.”
The old chief answered earnestly. “I’m trying to get involved in the community. Feel like I owe this town and my family a big debt. According to my daughter, the doc volunteers at a health clinic. Figured there might be a role for me.”
Rachel couldn’t picture Vince slapping on bandages or answering phones. “What about the homework center? Villa Corazon.”
“You mean tutoring?” He straightened. “I could handle that. In fact, it might be fun. My landlady’s involved, isn’t she? Yolanda Rios.”
“You’re renting in her fourplex?” Yolanda, a retired teacher, had founded the center with Marta’s aid five years ago in a garage. Two years into it, shortly before Vince left town, she’d received permission to take over a former community center near the high school.
“Yes. Nice lady. Maybe I’ll check it out.”
They reached Russ’s cottage. “Still want to come in?”
“As long as I’m here.”
Rachel’s hesitation vanished when she considered that if they weren’t acquainted, Vince might run into Russ some night in the dark and mistake him for a prowler. She didn’t like to picture that gun pointed at the doc’s chest.
They found her fiancé in the living room, reading a medical journal. He seemed slightly ill at ease about socializing in his bathrobe, but shook hands with Vince and exchanged greetings.
As they discussed volunteer opportunities, Rachel remembered rather belatedly that Elise volunteered at the homework center. Darn. What an awkward situation if Vince appeared! But most likely he’d find an activity better suited to his crime-fighting background than sitting at a table reviewing multiplication tables.
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