Chance Collision

by C. A. Szarek

  “Evening, Detective,” Nikki’s gram said.

  He pressed a kiss into the soft, nearly transparent skin of her knuckles. “Evening, Mrs Jenkins.”

  “Oh, you charmer, you.” The elderly woman grinned while her granddaughter glowered.

  Nikki made a disparaging sound and crossed her arms over her breasts. Pete forced his eyes away, though he didn’t miss the scowl that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on her gorgeous face.

  If Gram noticed, she ignored Nikki and met Pete’s eyes. “Are you taking care of my granddaughter?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He expected a snarky remark from Nikki. She said nothing, and she wouldn’t look at him.

  Mrs Jenkins squeezed Pete’s hand in a grip that belied the appearance of her fragile-looking fingers. “Good. I know she’s in good hands.”

  “Thank you. How’re you feeling, ma’am?”

  “Stop this ma’am stuff. It makes me feel old.” Gram mock-glared and Pete couldn’t help but smile.

  Mrs Molly Jenkins might be diminutive and elderly, but the word weak didn’t apply, despite a stroke and heart problems. It was no secret where Nikki had got her strength.

  “I would never want to make a beautiful woman feel old. I apologise.”

  Gram laughed, her pale blue eyes twinkling. “Nikki-baby, I like this one.”

  Nikki closed her eyes for a split second and cleared her throat. “I like him, too.” Her voice was breathy and made his stomach jump. She leaned closer to the bed and grabbed her grandmother’s free hand. Still wouldn’t look his way.

  Pete felt like a heel. Pissed he could handle. Hurt was another matter entirely. And Nikki exuded hurt. His fault. Just one more way he’d failed her.

  “Uh.” He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m going to step out with Agent Dawson. Spend some time with your gram.”

  She finally met his eyes. Nikki nodded, remaining silent.

  “I won’t be gone long. Rodriguez and Benton will be here with you. They won’t let anyone come into this room.” He raised his voice and glanced at the two cops. They both nodded. “You call my cell every ten minutes. I’ll be back for you in a bit.”

  Pete made himself turn and leave even though there was a weight on his chest he didn’t want to acknowledge.

  She’d be fine for an hour. They’d order her some food to go, too.

  Rodriguez and Benton would protect her. Everything would be fine.

  He met Lee in the hallway. “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  Pete cleared his throat and tried not to shift under the weight of Lee’s gaze. This suddenly felt like a date.

  The place was dark and they were surrounded by couples. Masculine arms around feminine shoulders in booths and heads bent close together all around. People sitting against each other like the lovers they probably were.

  He felt keenly out of place. As if he and Lee had a spotlight over their table.

  Rizzoli’s buzzed with life around them. Wait staff worked the room, plates and silverware clinked from all angles. Old Blue Eyes crooned from the speakers. Garlic permeated the place, but the mix with other Italian spices was pleasant. Mouth-watering. Made a guy crave lasagne from the moment he walked in the door.

  Something was missing. Or more like someone. He half expected to look up and see her striding in the entrance to join them at the table. She’d been at his side for almost a week now. His new constant.

  You should have never left her. Alone. But Nikki wasn’t alone. He’d just have to keep reminding himself of that.

  It didn’t help. No matter how many times he repeated it in his head.

  The whoosh of the kitchen doors swinging past each other offered a distraction. Conversation with Lee had never been difficult. He wasn’t about to let it start. “Thanks for going over the database with me. If we could just tie Marchetti or Donati to the blood on the windowsill at Health Solutions through DNA, we’d solidify things all around.”

  “No problem.” Lee nodded, a smile playing at her lips. As if she could see right through him. As if she knew how awkward he was feeling. “But science shit or not, we’ll get him, I’ve no doubt.”

  “Yeah. We will.”

  Silence descended and she reached for her water glass. Pete watched her slender hands. Manicured nails, but plain and neat, no polish or colour. She wore no rings, but had a small gold bracelet on her right wrist. Her tanned skin spoke of her heritage, and his eyes followed her wrist up to her elbow.

  Lee wore a short-sleeved dark top that displayed her full breasts and was tapered and form-fitting at the waist. Somehow dressy and casual all rolled into one. Her jeans were tight like always, and navy denim. She was dressed as normal at work—still gorgeous, even with her black hair in a ponytail.

  He liked her. Had liked her from the moment she’d walked into the briefing room last year when he, Andi and Cole had been after Carlo Maldonado. She had balls. Lee was easy on the eyes, too.

  She isn’t Nikki.

  “What’s going on with you, Pete?” She shelved her chin on her hands, both elbows on the table. She appraised him, her gaze keen.

  “What?”

  “You’re wound so tightly I’m afraid you’re going to blow at any second. Granted, we haven’t been working together too long, but I read people pretty well. And I haven’t seen you like this before. Not like you were before we left the house tonight. It’s not the case. That’s not what’s getting to you.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Pete said.

  “Bullshit.” Amusement flickered across her face.

  Damn. She was as shrewd as he was. Now he understood why Andi hated when he put her in the position Lee was currently slamming down on him. He sighed and averted his gaze.

  “If you don’t want to open up to me, so be it. Call your partner. I know you’re close to her. Run ten miles. Do something. ’Cause you need a release, dude. Or we’re not gonna get anywhere else on the case. You’re gonna pull a Mount St Helens.”

  Shaking his head, he bit back a snort. He needed a release, all right. A ten-mile run—or all the cold showers in the world—wouldn’t fix it. Not since he’d tasted her. Craved her.

  Nikki. She was what he needed.

  Nikki not angry at him. Nikki in his arms and in his bed, but with him instead of alone like the last two nights. Shifting in the chair, he cursed himself as his cock stirred.

  Desire warred with conscience. It was hard for any of it to matter—how his boss had said hell no, how he was too old for her, how he couldn’t love her like she deserved, it all went unnoticed in the back of his mind.

  “Pete?” Lee’s voice dragged him back to reality.

  He cleared his throat. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, darlin’.” Pete flashed his best smile.

  She reclined in her chair and cocked her head to one side, a smile playing at her full lips. “Since you’re so charming, I don’t think I should call you a liar.”

  “You kinda just did.” He laughed.

  Lee’s grin was impish. “Now that’s better. Pete back in the home team’s dugout.”

  “What a relief.” He gave an overdramatic sigh that had his new partner laughing again.

  Their waitress appeared to check on them, so Lee didn’t answer him.

  He watched her. She was direct in everything she did, even eating. With Lee, you saw what you got a mile away. There was no subterfuge.

  Pete admired that. Hell, he always tried to present the same front. Andi was probably the only one who could see right through him.

  His observation of her didn’t go unnoticed by Lee—she was too keen for that—but she didn’t say anything. They fell into a nice rhythm. Laughing and talking. Natural. No spark…like when he was with Nikki.

  Jesus, get her out of your head. He couldn’t follow his own damn orders, though. If he closed his eyes he’d see her mussed red locks, heavy-lidded brown gaze and pink cheeks, kiss-swollen lips. He wouldn’t let his memory go south—in
any stretch of the word. His jeans were already a bit tight.

  Cursing himself—again—Pete forced his eyes to Lee’s. “Your partner missing you?”

  Lee laughed. “Not that he’d ever say. He’s not really the touchy-feely type, but I’d consider him a friend. Today they busted up another buy. Arrested a few guys. Caselli’s dealing with Mexicans heavily now. They got three girls out.”

  “Damn. He’s expanding things?”

  “Right. We need to take him down. There’re also rumours of collaboration with Russian traffickers. Girls from Russia, the Czech Republic, and especially Ukraine. They’re selling for more than any other nationalities. Bastards.” Her tone was firm and Lee made a fist.

  Pete shook his head. “I’d like to shoot each and every one of them.”

  “They’re better off getting raped in prison.” Lee smirked.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.”

  “We’re taking them down. Already put a dent in his organisation. It’s only a matter of time before Caselli’s behind bars.”

  “So you’re missing New York?” Pete asked.

  “Maybe my unit. Texas is a break from the constant action of the past few months, though.”

  “Might be a good thing.”

  “Well, every time Caselli’s guys come into town, little Antioch gets some action.”

  Pete chuckled. “Something I could do without. Makes our murder rate go up.”

  Lee winked. “At least my partner in Texas isn’t so bad.” Her dark gaze was inviting.

  He stared, trying to decide if the innuendo in her expression was his imagination. She regarded him steadily, as if daring him to call her out. He didn’t.

  The moment passed and soon he was leading her back to his unmarked, hand at the small of her back. Pete opened her door and Lee glanced at him.

  “Detective.”

  “Hmmm?”

  Their eyes locked. Pete shifted on his feet like he was seventeen.

  Lee grabbed his wrist and pulled him to her, standing tiptoed to press her mouth to his. Instead of pulling away, he lowered his head and met the FBI agent’s lips halfway. Pete took control and wrapped his arms around her.

  She kissed him thoroughly, opening for him. Their tongues mingled, but Pete didn’t pull her closer and Lee didn’t push her way against his chest.

  She was a good kisser. It was…pleasant. But it didn’t fire his blood or stir his cock. He didn’t need more.

  Like with Nikki.

  He pulled away on a sigh.

  Lee stared up at him, one corner of her mouth lifted. Her brown eyes were clear of passion and amusement rippled across her gorgeous face. “Well, it was worth a shot.” The diminutive FBI agent patted his pecs with a flat palm.

  Pete reared back. “Excuse me?”

  “I thought I might be able to help you relax, but I’m not fool enough to think that kiss did anything more to you than it did to me. Guess you kissed the wrong girl.” Her gaze darted towards the hospital before meeting his again.

  So his new partner wasn’t so oblivious after all. Then again, she had caught him with Nikki in his room. Probably hadn’t believed a word he’d said about nothing happening.

  Speechless wasn’t often something he claimed. However, as Lee observed him, he couldn’t have kicked himself harder. She was beautiful, sensible and in law enforcement, for God’s sake. Could see eye to eye with his daily life. She liked him.

  She would’ve taken him into her arms, and into her body. She might not have been turned on by their first kiss, but Pete could’ve convinced her. He was a good lover. He could make her feel good.

  Why couldn’t he want her?

  She’s not Nikki.

  He swallowed a cringe. “I got nothing,” Pete whispered.

  Lee laughed, actually laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, Pete. You’re a great guy. I like you. But someone else likes you more. Pretty damn good chance you feel the same way. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her gaze was pointed. No emotion detectible in her voice. No sadness, no regret, just pure fact as she saw it. That was completely Lee.

  He dragged his hand through his hair. “Dammit.” She’s my witness was on his tongue but Pete wouldn’t admit how spot on Lee was.

  She smiled, throwing him off even more. “It’ll be okay.”

  The shhht of the radio caught Pete’s attention, though the volume was low. He missed the first half of the transmission. “…fired. I repeat, shots fired.”

  “Shit. That’s Mark Rodriguez,” Pete said. His stomach roiled, threatening to eject the lasagne. Without a word, he ran around to the driver’s side.

  Lee yanked her gun from the holster as she climbed in the car. “Son of a bitch.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luciano Marchetti was the last guy Berto had ever expected to see again. But as he threw himself over his wife’s form on the hospital bed and fired his .357 Magnum Ruger, it occurred to him that Luca might be the last guy he saw, period.

  Hell no. I’m gonna kill him before he kills me.

  His arm burned where the first bullet had torn through. He’d taken a hit Maria’s battered body wouldn’t have survived. Barked at her to stay low and covered as much of her as he could.

  Berto fired three more times, praying he hit the bastard. He only had two remaining shots in the revolver, though he had a nine-millimetre Glock in his ankle holster. Could he pull it in time?

  “Fuck.” He gritted his teeth as a bullet ripped through his left leg.

  The cop who had been guarding Maria’s room from the corridor wasn’t coming to the rescue.

  Pain seared his side and the bed spun. Maria clutched at him, screaming. He heard pops and bangs as he concentrated on pulling the trigger for the last time.

  Berto fought to stay awake.

  Luca swore and backed from the room, grabbing his upper arm. He swivelled his body and Beretta, shooting in the other direction.

  Maria was cursing in Spanish and English, begging Berto to live. Screaming she loved him. Held onto him until her nails dug into his wrist and forearm. But feeling was good. His other arm, his side, even his leg were numb.

  He started to slip sideways from the hospital bed, but his wife’s arms encircled his chest. Maria did her best to keep him still and on the bed with her.

  Other people were screaming—women wailing and deep voices shouting orders. Heavy footfalls were everywhere—some sounded as if they were coming closer, but others faded away. People must be running.

  Everything echoed and his vision blurred. Maria’s bed became a Tilt-A-Whirl.

  “Berto, please. Berto, por favor! Te amo, Alberto Carbone! Do not leave me!”

  He opened his mouth to assure the love of his life he was right with her, even though he was having trouble focusing on her beautiful face.

  Berto tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but his arm wouldn’t lift, his fingers wouldn’t move.

  Everything went black.

  * * * *

  “He’s just gone. I gave chase. He’s hit in the arm so the blood trail was easy to follow at first. Not sure who shot him. No idea where I lost him. I’m sorry, Detective.” Mark Rodriguez shook his head when Pete met his dark eyes. The guy looked about as haggard as Pete felt. “I can’t believe this.”

  “You fought as hard as you could. We’ll get him,” Pete said, wanting to make the fellow cop feel better. “I’m glad you were here, though, dude. Got here quick, and Bobby’s gonna make it.”

  Officer down. Rodriguez’s call on the radio was something no cop ever wanted to hear. But Officer Bobby Roper had had on a vest. He’d been hit in the hip and shoulder, but his vitals were covered. He’d live. Thank God.

  “He was already laid out in the hall when I got here. Gunshots brought me downstairs. But before that, my gut screamed something wasn’t right. Roper didn’t even get time to call out.”

  Pete nodded and patted Rodriguez’s shoulder. “You did good, seriously. Your arrival save
d his life…all three of their lives, actually. Get back down to Mrs Jenkins’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “You sure you don’t need me here?”

  “Nah. The cavalry’s here. But thanks. Appreciate the offer.”

  Cops hovered. CSI rounded the corner with black evidence kits. Neil gave Pete a nod.

  “I’d offer my Spanish speaking skills, but looks like your FBI agent’s got it.” The cop gestured to Lee hovering over Maria Mata’s hospital bed.

  The two women were speaking in rapid-fire Spanish.

  “Dawson’s got it for sure. Just make sure Nikki and her gram are all right.”

  “Gotcha, Detective. See you in a few.”

  He’d let Rodriguez gain his bearings a bit more and take his statement as quietly as he could manage outside Mrs Jenkins’ room. The guy was a good cop—had been around for a while, but like most of APD, tonight was probably the guy’s first shooting. Would rattle even the best veteran cop.

  Pete sighed. His heart hadn’t returned to his chest from his stomach until he’d heard Nikki’s voice on the phone. She was fine. Gram was fine. Officer Benton had them in the room.

  Protected.

  She’d told him to handle his business.

  It’d been the first real conversation they’d had since their argument. She’d sounded concerned, but not scared. That was good. Helped him deal. Pete wanted to be back upstairs, with her in his sight…in his arms.

  A woman with blonde hair, wearing a white coat hovered. “Are you in charge here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Mrs Mata is my patient. I need to move her.”

  “As soon as Agent Dawson is through, I don’t see a problem with that, Dr…”

  “Holmes. Thanks.” She gave a curt nod.

  “How’s the husband?”

  Neil and his team discreetly slipped into the room behind Pete.

  “He had four GSWs and one entered the abdomen. It’s a good thing they were here at the hospital. We got him right into the OR. I can’t say for sure, but the blood was dark. Stomach or liver.” Dr Holmes’ expression became grave.