Chance Collision

by C. A. Szarek

  Stop this. Right now. Get yourself together, Nikki Harper.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Pete whispered, holding her hand even tighter, but he wasn’t hurting her. His thumb started slow soothing circles along her knuckles and Nikki sucked in a breath, then another.

  Her body stilled, her breathing evened. She wanted to thank him, because Pete—his touch—somehow grounded her, but her voice was nowhere to be found.

  Chief exchanged a look with her detective then met her eyes. “The city owns a few houses in town. Unassuming places. You’ll stay in one until this blows over. Crane will get this guy.”

  “Guys,” Nikki corrected, but neither answered her. She wiped her face with her free hand. “I don’t want to tell Gram. She’ll just worry. It’s bad enough she’ll see a cop all hours of the day.”

  Pete nodded. “Whatever you want to do.”

  Nikki met his eyes and couldn’t look away. The feel of his arms around her, his solid muscles against her, teased her mind. His woodsy cologne tickled her nose. She wanted to slip into him like she had last night. She wanted his lips against hers again. Wanted more than just his kiss. He wanted her. She’d felt it last night. Saw it in his gaze right now.

  Attraction sizzled between them. Her body warmed. Nikki didn’t need to talk to Pete, she needed to touch him, caress his face, kiss him—

  Chief cleared his throat and Nikki jumped. But so did Pete.

  “Can I go home to get some clothes?” Her voice cracked and she fought a cringe, pulling her hand out of the detective’s.

  What happened?

  More than just the memory of a little kiss. Not that she’d ever describe it as little. The kiss in the hallway of the rehab centre had been the kind to curl toes and suck a girl into oblivion. Detective Pete Crane knew what he was doing.

  “I don’t see why not, if you make it quick,” Chief said.

  What? Oh…yeah, home. Her apartment. Pack a bag. She made herself meet her boss’s hazel eyes. Forced a smile and nodded thanks.

  “I’ll take her.” Pete was still looking at her.

  “Good,” their boss said, but his voice was lost as Nikki tried not to stare at Pete.

  “Nikki, I need a moment with Crane.”

  Pete’s head shot around to Chief. “Boss?”

  The chief’s gaze was glued to her detective. His jaw was locked and he looked less than pleased. Was something wrong? His tone was hard. Irritated. Shouldn’t he have calmed? She’d pretty much agreed to go to a safe house.

  Nikki took her time standing, pressing her knees together to keep them from wobbling. Chief Martin appraised her and she almost shifted on her feet. What’d she missed?

  “Out,” Chief barked. “Close the door.”

  Chapter Eight

  Pete fought the urge to squirm in the chair under the weight of his boss’s gaze. What was up with Chief Martin? They’d always been cool.

  “You are the last person I ever thought I’d have to say this to.”

  “Say what?” Pete sat taller, pressing his back into the plush padding of the chair and feeling like he was a high-schooler in the principal’s office.

  “Keep your damn hands to yourself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Chief arched a salt and pepper eyebrow, and steepled his hands on top of his desk. “I’m not stupid.”

  Guilt, hard and fast, hit Pete in the chest.

  “I didn’t miss your little moment with Nikki.” Chief’s voice was even, but his hazel gaze shrewd.

  Little moment was right, but damned if Pete would ever admit it out loud. It’d taken all he was made of not to grab her and kiss the living daylights out of her.

  Nikki’s tears, however slight, had just about killed him. Worse than last night. All he could think about was taking away her fears. Holding her. Comforting her.

  “She’s my witness.” And a kid. I have no interest in her except what relates to the case.

  Right?

  Liar. Voicing it to his boss wouldn’t make the lie true.

  “Exactly.”

  Pete tapped his cowboy boot on the floor, screaming at himself to sit still. “You got nothing to worry about, boss.”

  The Chief stared in a stretched moment of silence, then his chest heaved as if he’d sucked in breath. He ran his hand through his greying hair. “She…means something to me. A damn lot to me, actually.”

  Pete frowned, leaning closer to the edge of his boss’s oversized desk. More than an employer-employee relationship. His boss wasn’t…infatuated with Nikki, was he? That would lend itself to awkwardness if Chief ever found out they’d kissed. Or it could get Pete’s ass kicked—literally.

  Chief used to be a boxer. Of the prize-winning variety. His office was plastered with framed photos and a championship belt was proudly displayed on the wall behind his head.

  “Her father and I were partners.”

  “Nikki’s dad was a cop?”

  The older man nodded, looked away then cleared his throat. “We grew up together. High school, the Army, the academy, patrol partners and even made detective together.” His boss’s hazel eyes were misty when he finally met Pete’s gaze.

  Shock rolled over him and he squared his shoulders. He’d never heard that particular tone come out of Chief’s mouth before.

  Face drawn tight, his boss was saturated in sorrow. “I blame myself for what happened to him. And his wife, Nikki’s mom.”

  “What happened?” Pete whispered.

  “A case gone wrong. Bad guy took revenge on Jim and Meg.” Chief shook his head, jaw clenched. He made a fist and glared, but not at Pete. “I got the bastard, but not until after he’d left Nikki an orphan at age five.”

  “Ah. Her grandmother raised her.”

  “Yes, and has no love for me,” Chief said. “Protect Nikki, Pete. Don’t let her out of your sight. I mean it.”

  A thousand questions raced through his mind, but he didn’t push his boss. If Pete wanted to find out what’d happened, he could look in the archives. The subject change meant Chief didn’t want to talk about it.

  “I’ll protect her. And get Caselli’s men.” A vow to his boss’s soft, but firm order.

  “Call the FBI. If this case does involve Caselli, Special Agent Barnes will want to inform her unit. They’re still working to get him.”

  Pete nodded. “Lucas is going to call Dawson. She took over for him last year.”

  “Good. Cooperate with her if she comes to town.”

  “You know it, boss. Lucas will help out, too.”

  Chief snorted. “He wouldn’t stay home if I fired him.” But there was no malice in his tone, just pride. Not that Cole’s ego needed a boost, but their boss often bragged about his former FBI agent detective.

  “Probably not.” Pete laughed.

  “Call the county and see if you can get someone from the Sheriff’s Office to sit on the Circle Bar B. These guys are going to make a move on the husband. Whether he wants the help or not, we’re gonna keep him alive.”

  “I know a chief deputy over there, I’ll see what I can do. Also, I can see if either Dawson or Lucas knows anyone in the Marshal’s Service. Maybe we can talk about WitSec.”

  Shaking his head, the chief took another breath. “I don’t think he’d agree to witness protection even if the wife dies. But it’s not a bad idea. I’ll talk to Barnes if she graces me with a call.”

  Pete nodded. He wouldn’t doubt it if Cole’s former supervisor gave their boss a call. She still ran the Human Trafficking Unit that was after Alberto Carbone’s ex-boss.

  According to the news, they’d been making some headway over the last few months. Enough to make national headlines anyway. Was that the clincher that’d made Caselli move against the gangster-turned-rancher after all this time?

  Comparing notes with Dawson wasn’t going to be a bad idea, for sure.

  Knowing Lee, the FBI agent would fly in, rent a car at the airport and pop into the station without so much as a phone call. Well,
hope she’s quick about it, then.

  “Take Nikki to the house on Montgomery. It’s the biggest and nicest of what we’ve got. Check on Mrs Jenkins, too.”

  “Ten-four.” He stood, nodding and making a mental checklist of what he needed to get done. Things were about to get complicated now that Nikki would have to be a tag-along.

  “Seriously, Crane.”

  Pete paused, one hand on the doorknob.

  “If you touch her inappropriately, or one hair on her head is harmed by anyone or anything, your ass—your badge—is mine.”

  He threw a smile over his shoulder, but his gut tightened at the warning in Chief’s tone. A hard promise, the likes of which Pete had never heard from the man before. “You worry too much, boss.”

  Besides, he agreed. Nikki’s not for you.

  The reinforcement should help. No—would help. He’d keep his hands to himself and his cock in his pants.

  After slipping out of the office, he closed the door silently.

  When Pete turned around, he met a pair of very brown eyes.

  * * * *

  Luca cursed and wrenched the wheel of the piece-of-shit Ford to the right, avoiding the parked car by mere inches as he scanned the parking lot. Where the fuck was Mickey?

  Caselli’s idiot nephew had taken off on his own when Luca had been stupid enough to give in to fatigue and get a few hours of shut-eye. He’d awoken in the crappy motel room alone—and pissed off.

  “Fuck.”

  Shaking his head, Luca clutched the butt of his Beretta with his free hand. His knuckles smarted but he didn’t loosen his grip. When he found the bastard, he was going to kill him. No matter what his fucking boss said.

  Sometimes Caselli could be a pussy. Was he afraid of a little bloodshed? The boss had been hacked that Luca had disposed of the local meth head—the driver who’d got them away from the rehab centre. Luca had saved the man ten thousand dollars. Couldn’t Caselli be happy about that? His boss was a cheap-ass most of the time, after all.

  The points Luca had hoped to score with a job well done had not only dissipated, but he’d had to endure a tongue-lashing that would have been a beating if he’d been in the same room as Caselli.

  And the smirk on Mickey’s puss when he’d overheard part of the conversation had sealed his fucking fate. The little bastard wasn’t going to make a fool out of Luca.

  “Fuck Mickey. Fuck Caselli,” Luca muttered. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Doubt didn’t even enter his mind. But he needed to head out to Berto’s ranch and finish the job. Show his boss he could perform.

  The news had reported that the nurse was alive—his boss was pissed about that, too.

  Well, she could have a mishap in the hospital. Luca would deal with that as soon as he’d found his co-worker.

  Could Mickey have got it into his head to go to the hospital and finish off Berto’s whore? No way. Caselli’s nephew wasn’t that smart. Besides, Luca had kept that part of his boss’s phone rant to himself.

  If he couldn’t find Mickey, he’d just handle things then deal with him later. And he would find him. Would deal with him. Until Mickey bled.

  The fight they’d had the night before shot into his memory and Luca gritted his teeth. Mickey was convinced they needed to silence all witnesses.

  “The old woman saw us. So did the redheaded chick.”

  “So what?” Luca had snapped.

  “Saw us. As in will-tell-the-police what we look like.” Mickey had crossed his arms at that point, shaking his head until his shaggy hair shifted on his shoulders.

  What Luca hadn’t admitted was that their boss had ordered them to leave the women alone as well. Agreeing—even a little bit—made his blood boil. They didn’t want the exposure more bodies would bring. Not that he minded the killing. On the contrary, that was his favourite part. Seeing the life fade out of someone’s eyes—that got his cock hard. It didn’t matter. He’d do the Berto job and finish off the whore. Then hit the road. Go home to New York within a few days. Who the fuck cared who saw them? They wouldn’t be in Texas long enough for it to signify. Like small-town cops crossed the country after guys they couldn’t identify.

  Luca should have known better to assume the argument was over. Mickey wouldn’t just let things go. The bastard thought he could act behind Luca’s back.

  “That fucker,” he muttered, glancing at the faded green numbers on the clock in the crappy Taurus. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

  The Circle Bar B was at least forty-five minutes away. Luca needed to scope the place and make a plan to rid the world of Alberto Carbone. Maybe explosives would be fun. It’d been a long time since he’d blown something up.

  By the time he’d hit the highway to head southwest, Luca was plotting all sorts of creative ways to dispose of Berto—and Mickey. Could he do it at the same time? A twofer? Perhaps he could wait to kill his boss’s turncoat. He could find Mickey and bring him back out to the ranch. Tell the idiot he needed help with the job. Tie them together in the barn? Set it on fire?

  Luca chuckled.

  Whatever he decided, it’d be good. Hitting the road to go home alone wouldn’t be so bad. He’d worry about how to explain being sans Mickey to Caselli later. Accidents happened, after all. Oooops. Luca grinned and patted his gun.

  Then again, he hadn’t told Mickey their two witnesses were off limits. Caselli didn’t need to know that. Luca wouldn’t be able to help killing Mickey if the guy disobeyed his uncle, could he?

  When he turned down the county road towards the Circle Bar B, a pothole the size of Texas threatened to swallow the car he’d boosted.

  Shit, he should have stolen a truck. The rough road jarred him until his teeth rattled. It was going to give him a damn backache. Not to mention, he was rather out of place in the low-to-the-ground sedan. The few vehicles he’d passed were all pickups of varying sizes.

  Luca drove by the huge iron gate with the ranch’s name and logo shaped in an arch over a paved driveway, then circled back around. His instincts flared and he hunkered down in the bucket seat. Following the speed limit was a must. He couldn’t be conspicuous.

  The house was sprawling and sat about half a mile back from the roadway. The property was edged by a combination of decorative iron fencing as well as the more practical stuff to keep horses and cattle contained.

  “Why the hell does Berto want all this shit?” Luca frowned. Drugs and women were easy money. Fuck the hard work that came with the crap in front of him.

  Scanning the roadway as well as the vast property, he inched the car closer. Could he get away with turning down the road? There was no one around.

  Woods edged both sides of the roadway just beyond the fencing that belonged to the Circle Bar B. A small clearing marked a dirt road formed by large tyre tracks. It seemed to curve around into Berto’s land. There wasn’t a gate he could see. Was it a back entrance or something? Was there a place for him to park and watch?

  The glint of a shiny reflection had Luca swinging his head around. His gut clenched and a string of curses fell from his lips. The steering wheel bit into his palms, his knuckles smarting as the silver cruiser made a slow turn down the main entrance of Berto’s ranch. He didn’t catch the name of the county, but the car boasted Sheriff’s Office under a star-shaped seal on the door.

  “Fuck me.”

  More fucking cops?

  From the rear view, Luca watched the Dodge Charger stop at the gate and hit what looked to be an intercom. He couldn’t slow or stop without being noticed, so he hit the gas and exercised his vocabulary some more.

  If Caselli didn’t want him to kill witnesses, he certainly wouldn’t want collateral damage in the form of dead cops. Even if it would be fun as hell.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Things just got complicated.

  Chapter Nine

  “What’s wrong with him?” Nikki asked.

  The damn door had prevented her from hearing anything but deep voices
as her boss and Pete had talked.

  Getting kicked out of Chief’s office was new. If she was the subject of the conversation, she had a right to know everything.

  Pete cleared his throat. “Nothing. He wants to make sure you’re protected.”

  “Right.” She narrowed her eyes, but suddenly her detective wouldn’t look at her. Considering he hadn’t been able to stop just moments before, Nikki didn’t buy what he was trying to sell for a second.

  “Let’s go. I don’t want to be gone long. Besides the safe house, the PD is about the best place for you to be. So let’s get what you need and get back here. I don’t like the idea of being unsecure.”

  Nikki frowned. “So I’m stuck with you, left to your every whim? I am an adult, you know.”

  That green gaze burned her. “You’re stuck with me all right. But your safety’s not exactly a whim, darlin’.”

  Trying to glare failed, and she couldn’t help but melt a little. Pete’s use of Gram’s familiar endearment was like a caress. Not at all like when her grandmother said it. A tremor shot down her spine. She swallowed and took a step back when she really wanted to wrap her arms around him. “What about Gram?” Her voice shook and she cursed.

  “She’s gonna be fine. Like Chief said, she’ll always have an officer with her.”

  “No. I mean, I need to see her. Every day.”

  Pete frowned and Nikki glared.

  “It’s non-negotiable, Detective. I see my grandmother daily.”

  “We’ll see what we can do.”

  “No.” Nikki shook her head. “No. Way. This is not going to mess with my life.”

  “Nikki—”

  Cursing him to hell and back, she whirled away and stalked to her desk. “I’m not going to be a victim to this…situation.”

  Pete’s sigh sounded in her ear. He was behind her, he’d followed closely, but she couldn’t look at him. Ignored the feel of his body heat at her back.

  Attraction or not, kiss or not, he wasn’t going to get away with ordering her around.

  “That’s what I’m trying to avoid,” he said.

  “I’m being punished.”