Mack shook his head. "Nope. I didn't see any leaping batteries." He looked at the black gizmo in her hand. "Did the drive-by just now show that I was here?" It was subject-changing time again. "Yes, but you are here. Now."
"Well, then maybe something's wrong with your computer."
"I doubt it." She shook her head. "I think you booked out of here the second I drove away."
He lifted up his pant leg. "Look. It's there."
"There was a lag time before I programmed you in at my office."
"Kate, come on. Here I am." He sat back down in the lawn chair and shut the TV off with the remote. He felt a little tug of guilt that he was deceiving her, but he had no choice. "By any chance, did you pick up that Chinese food?" That would get her going.
"No. I didn't, and I won't be picking it up. Not now. Not ever. Call and order something yourself."
"Gee, Kate. I just thought that–"
"I'll be leaving now." She sighed deeply, and Mack was sorry that he’d had to deceive her.
He followed Kate out the kitchen door to the garage. She sniffed the air. He smelled it, too. Exhaust fumes. Motor oil. And he could hear the pinging noise of a car cooling.
She walked over to the rust bucket and put her palm on the hood.
"It's warm," she said. "You drove it."
"I started it up and let it run for a while. It's been idle for about a week, and I wanted to make sure it would run."
She eyed him suspiciously.
"It's true." He didn't add that he drove the thing while it was running.
"I don't believe you, Mack. And I don't trust you." Indignant, she started to walk toward her car. "Just thought you should know that."
Even though he was the last person in the world she should trust, her words still bothered him. "I heard you, loud and clear."
She looked like she was going to say something else, but then changed her mind. He watched as she took something from the front seat of her Blazer. A newspaper. Walking back to the garage, she handed it to him.
"Oh, by the way, we made the front page," she said.
Skimming the article, his eyes zeroed in on the quote from his father. Dammit. Wouldn't the old man ever believe in him? Couldn't he stick up for him just once?
"You just take that scholarship, Johnny,” his father had ordered. “You should be a corporate lawyer like Mike. Your brother is doing well for himself. You could be someone.”
"But I am going to be someone. I’m going to be a cop.” Mack insisted.
“A cop? That’s no kind of job."
He'd been eclipsed by Mike his entire life, so he'd wanted to do his own thing. He had always wanted to be a cop ever since Captain Crawley, who was Officer Crawley back then, came and spoke during Career Day in his freshman year of high school.
Being a cop wasn't a glamorous job like his brother's and it didn't pay well, but he needed to be a cop more than he needed to breathe. It was his whole identity. It made him feel good when he caught a criminal. It was his way of protecting the community, making the streets safer, making Rose Lake a better place to raise his kids–if kids were in the cards for him.
After all these years, even though it was senseless, Mack continued to try to prove himself to the old man.
He’d tried to become the best cop he could.
But now everyone thought he was a criminal.
"Do you mind if I keep the paper?" he asked Kate. He wanted to read the article again when she wasn't around. When he could savor every word of his father's unfailing support–not.
"Go right ahead." She turned to leave, then looked back at him and forced a smile. "I can't prove it, but I know you've been out driving. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one. It's been a long day, and I'm tired."
"Thanks." Well, he might have gotten away with one, but it didn't make him proud of himself.
She nodded, then went over to the rust bucket. Damned if she didn't stick her head in the window and check the mileage.
"Six thousand and twelve miles?"
"This is the third time it's been around."
"I see."
"It gets me where I want to go," he said, defending the beast.
"Not anymore it won't. Can I have the keys, please?" She held out her hand.
If this didn't beat all. "No way. It's my car, I'm still licensed to drive it, and I don't appreciate being treated like a criminal or a little kid." His blood pressure was rising in increments of ten.
"Then don't act like one." Her gaze didn't waiver in spite of his best glare. "Your choice, Mack. The keys—or back to jail."
Swearing under his breath, he fished out the keys to the rust bucket from his pocket and tossed them to her.
She caught them in mid-air.
"Interesting that you had them right on you."
"I told you, I’d started it up."
Kate put the keys in her pocket book. "Yes, that's what you told me."
It wasn't going to be easy to fool Kate. She was too intelligent to fall for his lies, and he had always liked the fact that she could stand up to him.
But it was still frustrating not being able to come and go when he needed to. He rolled up the paper, and slapped it against his palm in frustration. "By the way, I need to talk with my father."
"We went over this before. Call him."
"I need to talk to him in person."
"Why can't you invite him here?"
"He won't come to me. I have to go to him. That's the way it's always been."
She looked down at the oil-stained garage floor. "I can't let you go, Mack. Please understand. I just can't." She met his gaze. "You're on house arrest."
He flung the paper to the far side of the garage. "Dammit. I know. You remind me every waking moment."
She stared at him, wide-eyed. He didn't mean to yell at Kate or take his frustration out on her. The quote from his father was like a gut punch. He didn't know how much more he could take.
Mack took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, then noticed that Kate's eyes avoided his. He mentally kicked himself for his quick temper. It was hard to explain why he over-reacted–the words wouldn't come. "I'm really sorry. I guess it's all getting to me," was the best he could muster.
"I understand," she said, but her gaze never met his. He had overreacted, and he felt like scum.
"Why don't you get some sleep?" she said, compassion in her voice.
"Yeah. Maybe I should." It had been a long day, a horrible week.
"Good night then."
"Good night," he said. He still felt like a slug for lying to her, but he knew he'd go berserk if he had to stay confined in a cell. He was already going crazy just thinking about the fact that he wasn’t supposed to go any further than twenty feet from his house.
A shudder went through him. He couldn't handle being sent to prison. No way. The cell was a coffin. Privacy was non-existent. And he had the dregs of Rose County for company, most of whom he had put in there.
He had no choice. He had to do Kate's program.
And he had to find out who had framed him. And fast.
"Mack, are you all right?" Kate's green eyes were full of worry. She took a few steps toward him and put her palm on his forehead like a concerned mother. "You're a little warm, but I don't think you have a temperature."
He held his breath, figuring that if he were to exhale the moment would end. He didn't want it to. But when it did, he took her hand and held it in his for several seconds. It surprised him that she didn't recoil from his touch.
He wanted to tell her that it had been an eternity since someone had cared about him, even that little bit, but he didn't want her to think he couldn't go it alone. Because he could. He had gotten this far without anyone.
Kate looked up at him, waiting. Her eyes searched his, but she didn't speak.
For some reason, he needed to touch her, to feel her warmth. It seemed only natural to move closer to her and slip his arm around her waist. He pulled her
slowly toward him, giving her time to resist, but she didn't. He felt her tense, heard her sudden intake of air. Her lips were just a mere inch from his and he could smell the flowery fragrance of her perfume, the faint herbal scent of her hair.
He wanted to kiss her more than anything else in the world, but he didn't dare. He couldn’t offer her anything right now. She was always the brightest, the smartest, the one with the most ambition. She deserved someone who wasn’t living under a cloud of suspicion.
Above all, he suspected that someone was trying to kill him, but got his partner instead. If Kate was near him, she might get hurt, just like Tom had.
It was the hardest thing he had even done in his life, but he let her go.
Kate looked confused and shaken, and it seemed that she couldn't wait to get away from him, and that saddened him. He didn't mean to upset her yet again.
He ground a fist into his hand. Damn! What was I thinking?
Neither of them said a word as Kate hurried to her Blazer and Mack watched her drive away for the second time that day.
He knew full well that he was going to have to leave the first thing in the morning and hurt Kate even more.
CHAPTER 4
Driving back to her office, Kate hit the buttons that rolled down all the windows and let the sixty-five mile an hour wind cool her. Her heart thumped like a flat tire and her blood pumped hot through her veins.
He was going to kiss me.
I wanted him to.
It was a high school dream come true being held in his arms for even that little bit of time. He was strong and powerful and hard. His blue eyes had studied her face, then darkened.
Then he'd scowled and let her go.
Kate turned on the radio for a distraction so she wouldn't have to think more about it. She had a job to do and didn't need romantic thoughts of John Mackowitz clouding her brain. He was her client, and it would be unprofessional to get involved with him.
Who was she kidding? Sure, she could convince herself that it would be unprofessional to get involved with him, but in her heart of hearts, she was downright scared. It was easier to dream of what might be than face reality.
And reality was that Mack changed his mind about kissing her.
He had major problems right now. He believed that someone was trying to kill him, trying to frame him, and now she was there to insure he stayed put in his house. Kate understood that he needed to be a cop, and find out what was going on, and she was blocking his movement.
She sighed in disappointment. Maybe Mack would just go to bed as he'd said. Then she could do the same. She didn't want to drive back to his house again tonight should he decide to sneak off. It had been a long, emotional day. She had just enough energy to grab something to eat and finish setting Mack up on the VV-98 before she fell asleep.
She turned off at the next exit and headed north on Tulip. Her stomach growled. Knowing, there was nothing in her office to eat, she decided to stop at Clancy's for a couple slices of pizza before she made the climb to her office.
Her office was more than an office. She was living in it, too. She gave up her apartment in an effort to cut costs, sinking everything into Your Home Is Your Jail. Lately, it felt like her jail, so she could identify with Mack. It made her feel restless and confined. Just like he might feel, if he’d stayed put for more than an hour!
Glancing at the voice verifier, she reminded herself to make sure everything was perfect with the VV-98 as it made its random calls to Mack. Well, he would think they were random, but she knew the exact times he’d be called.
Kate decided to change the calling schedule. Mack seemed as tired as she was, and she had set a couple of the calls to go off after midnight. She sighed, wondering if she was softening toward him, but then assured herself that she'd have cut the calls back on anyone in the same situation. Anyone at all.
Popping the top of a can of raspberry ice tea, Kate sat down behind the desk and took a bite out of a slice of gooey and wonderfully greasy pepperoni and mushroom pizza. She wondered what Mack was having. If his cupboards were as empty as the rooms in his home, the man was probably starving.
He'd need money to pay for take-out and the last she knew his wallet was still in jail storage. She reminded herself to get it for him, if they'd let her.
Mack hadn't said anything about not having money—but that wasn't his way. And knowing the little she knew about his parents, she didn't think there was much hope they'd stop by with a care package.
Kate shook her head. The man was old enough and smart enough to figure out how he could get a meal. He was—is—an undercover cop. Only the cleverest, most devious, and smartest guys were picked for that kind of job. No doubt Mack was all of that. And more.
She took out the other slice of pizza. Those Clancys had outdone themselves this time. She was just about to pick up the phone and order some mild Buffalo wings from them when the VV-98 kicked on.
"Yo?"
"This is the VV-98 voice verification system. Please repeat after me. Orange."
"Oh, for Pete's sake..."
"Goldfish."
"Kate? You there? This is beyond stupid, Kate."
She laughed. "Just say the word, you stubborn man," she muttered, walking over to the kitchenette to toss out the paper plate and plastic cup.
"Zoo."
"You got it, you ol' VV-98. This is like the zoo."
"Pimento."
She heard him take a deep breath. "Pimento," he said.
"February."
He took another deep breath. "Dammit, Kate. Aww...hell...February."
He finally gave in and repeated another ten more.
"The VV-98 voice verification test is now over. Thank you for your cooperation."
"Kate, I know you're listening. This is the dumbest thing I've ever done in my whole—"
Beep. Click. The VV-98 disconnected.
Kate smiled. When he wasn't infuriating, John Mackowitz sure was entertaining.
Chuckling, she decided to have a little fun with him for making her so crazy today. She hit the control key and F7. The VV-98 called him again.
"Yeah?"
"This is the..."
"Dammit, Kate! Not again! I just did this. I need to get some sleep!"
"Book."
"Kate, can you hear me? Fix this thing!"
"Frog"
"Aww...hell...frog!"
"Pajamas."
"I'm picturing you in a black satin night gown, Kate."
Her heart started to pound.
"Island."
A big sigh. "A deserted island with you."
This time the sigh was her own. "You don't have to use the words in a sentence, Mack," she murmured, dreamily.
"Burrito."
"Am I supposed to be bilingual on this program?"
Kate burst out laughing.
She hit a couple more keys and skipped the rest of the words.
"...Thank you for your cooperation."
"Kate, fix this damn thing!"
Beep. Click.
Yanking the cushions off the sleep sofa, she tossed them on the floor. Then she gave the strap on the frame a pull and unfolded the bed. Luckily, it was already made and ready for her to slip inside. At least if she was sleeping, maybe she'd get a respite from thoughts of Mack.
She deleted the remaining two calls she had scheduled for him. Maybe she was soft. Or maybe she wasn't prepared to hear the deep, rich voice of John Mackowitz anymore that evening.
A quick system check showed her that the tracking device on the VV-98 was up and running fine. She turned up the volume, so the beep alarm would wake her if Mack decided to do anything stupid, like sneak out.
Clicking the light off, she snuggled into bed. The smell of garlic was heavy in the air and the neon sign of the Clancy Brothers Pizza Emporium below added a surreal orange glow to the room. To the left, her equipment hummed and sparkled with its green, red and white running lights.
Kate felt secure in the fact that she
was going to make her program a personal and financial success. This was her own business, so no one would downsize her, transfer her or stick her in jobs she hated. She had just saved enough for a down payment on a house of her own, when she was permanently ousted from the Rose County Probation Department. Taking a big chance, she sank every penny of her down payment into the necessary equipment for Your Home is Your Jail.
Plus she believed in her program. There were people who were arrested and incarcerated and stayed in jail because they were just simply poor. The big-time criminals, particularly the white collar ones, who had the money and property to post bail, were out in record time.
She wasn’t clueless; there were people who belonged in jail, who were a danger to the community. But there were some who weren’t. Because she was a probation officer, she could tell the difference.
As a bonus, with hard work and Mack as her first successful case, she'd soon be able to refill her empty bank account, buy her house and sock some money away for her old age. She had it all planned so nice and neat: roots, stability, security.
The ringing of her phone startled her. It was late. Not even Charlie Chesterfield called her this late. She let the answering machine pick it up.
"Hello, Kate. I know you're there. This is the VV-98 calling you. It has taken over the body of Sergeant Mackowitz. I believe you know him.”
Kate sat upright in bed, wondering what Mack was up to.
“Repeat these words after me: innocent. Yes, I am innocent of all changes lodged against me. Framed. Yes, I’ve been framed. Investigate. I need to find out what’s going on and clear my name.”
He paused for a while, and Kate could hear him take a deep breath.
“Worried. I’m worried to death that Tom Murray’s life might still be in danger if someone thinks he knows something.”
“Your life is in danger, too, Mack,” Kate mumbled.
“Apologize. I’m sorry about your program, I know it means a lot to you, but I need to find out what’s going on and why. Please understand. But you do what you have to do, and I’ll do the same. Good night, Kate.”
Stuck On You Page 5
