Cowboy Cop

by Lori Wilde

  “It’s not a dimple,” Melvin growled. “It’s a scar. I got it in a fight at Harrigan’s Bar.”

  “Who was your opponent? A plastic surgeon?”

  His hard mouth curved up in a smile. “All right. So I can’t keep any secrets from my baby sister. Just don’t let that dimple story get spread around. Remember, I know the truth behind those rolled-up socks you used to wear. And I don’t mean on your feet.”

  “I was a sophomore in high school and underdeveloped for my age.” Lucy crossed her arms in mock outrage. “I can’t believe you’d resort to blackmailing your own sister.”

  “Prison has been a bad influence on me.”

  Her smile faded. “What’s wrong, Melvin? You said there was trouble.”

  “My lawyer quit yesterday.” He sighed. “Looks like you spent all that money on him for nothing.”

  She sat up straighter on the hard wooden chair. “He can’t just quit! Your trial is in less than a month. I’ll sue him. I’ll report him to the state bar association. I’ll picket in front of his office until he agrees to represent you again.”

  Melvin shook his head. “Hey, if he’s not on my side, then I don’t want him. The last thing I need is for my own lawyer to believe I’m guilty.”

  “Is that what he said?” she asked, knowing that her brother valued loyalty above all else. So did she. When you grew up on Bale Street, rife with crime and double-dealing, trust and loyalty were priceless commodities.

  He shrugged. “Close enough. He gave me some spiel about how I’d better take a plea deal because the state had a strong case against me. Said I’d probably be better with a public defender.”

  Lucy barely resisted the urge to slam her fist on the table. Instead, she leaned closer and hissed, “This is so unfair! You are not guilty. And I intend to prove it to that slimy lawyer and everybody else in this town.”

  He folded his beefy arms across his chest. “That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

  The hairs on Lucy’s neck prickled at his tone. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him; it was just a natural reaction to twenty-nine years of being bossed around by her big brother. A six-foot-three, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound big brother.

  “Well, we both know you’re innocent,” she began.

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And I won’t rest until I prove it. I’ll find another lawyer…delay the trial…hire a psychic. I know we can find the evidence to clear you. We just need time.”

  He arched a thick blond brow. “We?”

  She swallowed. “I’ve hired someone to help me with the investigation.”

  “A man?”

  “Nobody you know,” she said quickly. Melvin had never quite accepted that she was old enough to date. “He’s…sort of retired from the police department and lives with his grandmother. He’s perfectly harmless.”

  Melvin snorted. “Weasel’s already told me all about this harmless friend of yours. Nick Holden. Thirty-three years old. Ex-con. Sex maniac.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “He’s no sex maniac. I can guarantee you that.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, he got stung by a bee,” she began.

  “Sounds painful, but hardly a permanent disability. Are you telling me this bee sting has affected his love life?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what, exactly?”

  She decided to skip the rest of the bee story. “It means Nick Holden isn’t interested in my body. Only a paycheck. My relationship with him is strictly business.”

  “Not according to Weasel. He told me the guy practically drools every time he looks at you. Weasel’s worried about you, Luce, and so am I. Especially since I can’t keep an eye on you from in here.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said softly.

  He rolled his eyes. “Right. As long as you’ve got your nose buried in a book. But this isn’t some fairy tale, Lucy; it’s real life. You don’t know what, or who, you’re up against.”

  “Nick is on our side. He’s one of the good guys.”

  “I have a feeling good old Nick is on the side that can pad his bank account. He’s after your money,” he said, his face darkening, “and anything else he can get. Forget him, Luce. Forget me. You’ve got your own life to live. You don’t need me to drag it down.”

  “You’re my brother,” she whispered, her throat tight. “The only family I’ve got left. And I’m not about to let you spend the next twenty years in prison for a crime you didn’t commit.”

  Melvin stared at her for a long moment. “The thing is…”

  “What?”

  He leaned forward in his chair and lowered his voice. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve got a plan.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “A plan?”

  He nodded. “If it all works out, I won’t need another lawyer—or that two-bit investigator you hired.”

  “So are you going to fill me in?”

  “No way. The only reason I contacted you at all is so you don’t send any more money to that lousy lawyer. The less you know, the better.”

  She rolled her eyes. If he was going to start that nonsense again, she’d never get anything accomplished. So she resorted to a tactic that had worked on him since she was eight years old. “Actually, I already know all about it. Weasel told me.”

  Melvin scowled at her. “You do not.”

  “Do, too.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do, too.”

  “Do not!”

  She shrugged, feigning unconcern. “Fine. You don’t have to admit it. But I’m really hurt that you would try to keep something like this from me.” She sniffed for good effect. “I’m your sister. At least Weasel understands that I have a right to know.”

  “Man, he did tell you!” He shook his head in disbelief, then leaned even closer to her, his voice low and intense. “How could Weasel let you get mixed up in something like this? I never should have told him my plan to bust out of here.”

  “You’re what?” she gasped.

  Melvin narrowed his eyes. “So you really didn’t know,” he accused. “Shoot! I hate it when you do that to me, Lucy.”

  She glanced over at the guard, but he seemed oblivious. Maybe he hadn’t overheard them. “Melvin, are you crazy?”

  “Yeah. Crazy to stick around this place for so long. To even think I stood a chance of an acquittal. You don’t know what it’s like in here, Luce. My cellmate, Hans, talks to his invisible friend in German. The bedsheets are giving me a rash. And I’ve named the spiders living in my toothbrush holder Harvey and Doris.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m cracking up, Luce. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  She wanted him out of there, too, but planning a jailbreak definitely wasn’t the answer. It was all so unfair. Melvin had finally been ready to make something of his life. Instead of leaving the old neighborhood, he had a plan to make it better. To provide jobs for a decent wage and better housing for a reasonable rent. And just like Lucy, he wasn’t a quitter.

  She couldn’t let him give up now.

  “Melvin,” she whispered, “if you try to you-know-what, they’ll lock you up and throw away the key.”

  “They’ll have to catch me first.”

  “None of this should be happening,” she said, shaking her head. "You haven’t done anything wrong. Please just give me time to prove.”

  He sighed and said softly, “I know you believe life should be fair, Lucy. Maybe it’s that way in books, but I realized a long time ago that sometimes we have to make our own happily ever after.”

  “Just wait a little while before you do anything rash. I know Nick and I can find the real arsonist.”

  “The only thing Nick Holden is going to find is trouble if he lays one finger on my little sister. I know his type. At the moment, I’m surrounded by them. He’s not going to solve this case. He’s just going to clean out your bank account.”

&nbs
p; “You’ve got it all wrong,” she said, her mind racing for a way to convince him to delay his escape attempt.

  “I’m right about this, Lucy,” he countered. “I want you to dump the guy.”

  “All right.”

  He blinked. “What did you say?”

  She swallowed. “I said all right. I’ll dump him.”

  He smiled.

  “In two weeks.”

  His smile twisted into a scowl. “What’s wrong with dumping him today? Or better yet, yesterday.”

  “Because I need him. I may be the brains in our investigation, but he’s the brawn. Like you said, we don’t know who—or what—we’re up against. Give us two weeks to find enough evidence to clear your name before you do anything drastic.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Would you rather have me do this on my own?”

  “I’d rather lock you in a closet until I’m safely in Mexico City.”

  “I’ve recently learned how to pick locks, so that won’t do you any good. But I will make you a deal.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What kind of deal?”

  “I’ll dump Nick Holden in two weeks if you’ll promise to stay put for that long.”

  “Stay put?” he asked innocently.

  “You know what I mean,” she whispered. “No midnight excursions south of the border.”

  “All right,” he agreed grudgingly. “I’ll give you two weeks. It will take me that long to work all the details out anyway. But I don’t like the idea of you spending even one more day with this guy. I’m going to make sure Weasel keeps an eye on you.”

  Just what she needed. Another man peeking through her windows. “That really isn’t necessary.”

  “I think it is.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “No offense, Lucy, but you don’t know guys like I do. They’re not like those romantic heroes in your favorite novels.” He cleared his throat. “Men and women are made differently.”

  She bit back a smile. “I think we covered this about sixteen years ago. I distinctly remember the diagrams.”

  A blush stained Melvin’s cheeks. “I’m not talking about physical differences. Men and women think differently. Now take Vanessa…”

  “You take her,” Lucy quipped. “Or better yet, let’s give her to your ex-lawyer and show him the real meaning of cruel and unusual punishment.”

  He chuckled. “I know Vanessa is spoiled and vain and selfish, but she has her good points, too.”

  “Thanks to liposuction.”

  “Face it, Luce. Men are attracted to beautiful women. It’s been that way forever. We’re also attracted to not-so-beautiful women. And tall women. And short women. And skinny women. And—”

  “I think I get your point,” Lucy interjected. “Any woman is fair game.”

  “Exactly. And I don’t like the idea of Nick Holden using you for target practice.”

  “I told you he isn’t like that.”

  “All guys are like that. If they can’t have a fantasy woman like Vanessa, then they’ll take the next best thing.”

  She scowled at him. “Gee, thanks.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Unfortunately she did. Nick might be immune to her charms, but according to Melvin, he would fall right into Vanessa’s web—with his arms wide open.

  “Men are such idiots,” she murmured aloud.

  “Now that’s what I like to hear,” he said. “Keep that thought whenever you’re around Holden during the next two weeks.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.” For the first time she noticed the shadows under Melvin’s eyes and his sallow complexion. He’d lost more than weight—he’d lost hope.

  For a brief moment she felt a pang of guilt for making him stay incarcerated even one more day. “Just two more weeks. Can you wait that long, Melvin?”

  “Sure,” he said with his familiar cocky grin. “I’ll put the time to good use. Hans and his invisible friend are giving me German lessons.”

  * * *

  Nick walked into the Pine City police station on Monday afternoon. Surprisingly, it looked the same as it had that day eighteen months ago when he’d been escorted from the premises. Same beige walls. Same blinking telephones. Same leaky coffee machine. He sidestepped the coffee-soaked paper towels on the tile floor as he strode past a silent, staring trio of uniformed officers.

  His face wasn’t on any of the Ten Most Wanted posters, but he was greeted with the same looks of suspicion and disdain as public enemy number one. He really couldn’t blame them. Nobody liked a dirty cop.

  Nick walked past the reception desk, aware that people were stopping to stare at him. He couldn’t blame them, given what happened. But he kept walking until he reached the tiny office he used to share with his partner.

  Luke looked the same, too, sitting in front of his computer monitor with a pencil clamped between his teeth. His tie hung loose around his neck; his dark hair was ruffled. He pecked at the keyboard with one finger, intent on his work.

  “Still trying to learn the alphabet, I see,” Nick said, stepping through the doorway.

  “Nick!” Luke jumped out of his chair to greet him, slapping him on the back. “Man, it’s great to see you here. I didn’t know if you’d ever leave the ranch. Although if Miss Hattie was cooking for me, I wouldn’t leave either.”

  Nick smiled. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds in the last month.”

  Despite Luke’s normally laid-back attitude, his athleticism and quick instincts had made him invaluable on the streets. Even after Nick’s arrest, Luke had never let him down. His long, humorous letters had gotten Nick through more than one sleepless night in prison.

  “So what brings you here?” Luke asked, clearing a chair of haphazardly stacked file folders so Nick could sit down.

  “Believe it or not, I’m doing some investigative work.”

  Luke’s dark brows shot up. “Really? That sounds right up your alley. You always were the smart one.”

  “If I was the smart one, what does that make you?”

  Luke grinned. “The good-looking one.”

  Nick shook his head. “You haven’t changed a bit, Rafferty.”

  “I’m betting neither have you. You’re still the same decent, upstanding cop you were eighteen months ago. The one who pleaded guilty to a crime I know he didn’t commit.”

  “Let’s not get into that.”

  Luke perched on the corner of his desk. “Why not? I’ve been over it a hundred times. Your grandfather suffers a massive heart attack, you’re driving his car to the hospital when you’re pulled over for…what?”

  “A routine traffic check.”

  “Right. And that’s when they just happen to find all those pills stashed in the trunk of the car? The same pills missing from the evidence room at the station.”

  “Yeah, it was weird coincidence.”

  Rafferty shook his head. “But what really doesn’t make sense is your confession. I know you’d never do something like that.”

  Nick leaned back in the chair. “I can’t change the past now. I wasn’t about to put my grandparents through a lengthy, messy investigation and trial. Not with everything else they were going through. Look, I paid the price. It’s over and done with now. Let’s just forget it.”

  “Can you really do that, Nick?” Luke stared at him. “You loved being a cop.”

  “I don’t have a choice. I need to start over.”

  Luke knew when to stop pushing. “So tell me about this case of yours.”

  He smiled. “Does the name Mad Dog Moore sound familiar?”

  “Are you kidding? The guy’s practically a legend around here. But he really blew it when he torched the Hanover Building. I thought he was smarter than that.”

  “So you’re convinced he did it?”

  “I’m positive.” Luke sat down at his desk and pulled a folder from one of the many stacks piled there. “I was the lead investigator. It’s an open-and-shut case.”

  “What about his
alibi?”

  “Mad Dog claims he was just driving alone around Pine City when the fire started. You’d think a guy with Mad Dog’s colorful past would be more creative. Or at least come up with a witness.”

  “So who called in the fire?”

  Luke perused the open folder in front of him. “Somebody just passing by the building called in a report of smoke coming out of the windows, but they wouldn’t give a name. Apparently, Mad Dog finally showed up to watch the fire department put out the blaze.”

  “And I suppose nobody saw him between the time the fire started and when he arrived on the scene?”

  “Not a soul.” Luke picked up a paper clip off his desk, twirling it with his fingers. “So why all the questions? Don’t tell me Mad Dog hired you?”

  “Nope. His sister, Lucy, did. She thinks her brother’s innocent.”

  Luke whistled. “Mad Dog has a sister? I’ll bet she’s something to see. Let me guess, she’s got spiked purple hair, missing teeth, and twice as many tattoos as her brother.”

  Nick bit back a smile. “Not exactly.”

  “Well, she must be nuts if she thinks Mad Dog is innocent. In his apartment we found traces of the gunpowder he used as an accelerant. And the place was full of combustibles—all kinds of paint and varnish cans from the remodeling.” Luke tossed the mangled paper clip into the trash can. “As far as a motive, it’s the usual.”

  “Money?” Nick guessed.

  Luke nodded. “He insured the place a few weeks earlier with a replacement policy for almost twice the building’s original purchase price. Mad Dog claimed it would be worth that much after the renovations, but they’d barely begun when the place got torched.”

  “Didn’t he realize the insurance company would never pay the full amount of the policy?”

  Luke shrugged. “Guess he wasn’t thinking straight. He sure wasn’t thinking when he torched that place. It’s a textbook arson case, Nick. And the trail literally leads right to Mad Dog’s front door.”

  Nick sighed. “That’s what I keep trying to tell Lucy.”

  “And she’s not buying it?”

  “Nope. She’s convinced someone else is to blame. And she’s bound and determined to find the real arsonist.”