Detective on Call

by Regan Black

  “I’ll let you know if he sends me another text message,” Pippa said. The idea of Brody out there alone, trying to stay one step ahead of violent enforcers, made her sad. In instances like this she took it for granted how lucky she was to have the support of her brothers and sisters.

  “It won’t be a problem once we shut down Capital X,” Riley said.

  “Count on me,” Pippa said. “I need to get over to the frame shop for these repairs.” Her siblings helped her carry the pieces down to her car, and they parted ways there after she promised to be cautious. She tuned the radio to a station with classical music. As she drove out of the parking lot, she noted the unmarked car across the street, and when she reached the frame shop, she sent Emmanuel a text message about her errands and expected return time. Assuming she didn’t meet any traffic delays, she would have time to do some more digging into that new list of names before he arrived to watch her enter the loan application.

  Overkill. Then again, Brody was in hiding and Griffin had another friend who’d been burned by Capital X. Enforcers had broken two of Brody’s fingers. It was possible the woman playing the role of Alison could be hurt. Pippa could very well be at risk for retaliation too if Capital X discovered she’d duped them.

  She had to focus on the positive, the potential to break open the loan shark operation so Brody could come home. The earlier excitement returned while she considered the big leap forward her efforts would make in a few hours. Nothing made her happier than doing the right thing and making a difference in the process.

  * * *

  Emmanuel pulled up, pleased to find an open parking space on the street in front of Pippa’s condo. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to spend the night out here again, but just in case, this gave him a great vantage point. He slipped his cell phone into his pocket and then reached for the grocery bag and the bakery box from the front seat. He’d offered to bring dinner, but she’d told him she had that under control, so he’d selected one of his favorite desserts.

  With his car locked, he walked over and checked in with the teams in the unmarked cars also on duty. Knowing Pippa’s plan for the evening, he’d asked Lieutenant McKellar for a second unit on her place, a little surprised by the immediate agreement. Apparently it had been a quiet day. No one sketchy lurking around the building, and everyone who had gone inside as part of a service crew had a legitimate tie to their company. Maybe it was over-the-top, but his gut wouldn’t let him back down.

  In the building lobby, he pressed the call button, though he’d looked up the emergency access code provided to the police. Pippa buzzed him through the interior door, and he took the stairs instead of the elevator, wanting another casual look at how an intruder might still bypass every basic precaution in the building.

  From the hallway in front of her door, he heard the drone of a fan and wondered how the cleanup and repairs had gone today. She hadn’t mentioned any of that in her two texts. She hadn’t responded directly to his first message. Probably smart, all things considered. He’d only received the two texts about running errands and dinner. Technically, she didn’t owe him anything, and she had plenty of siblings in the immediate area, but it would’ve been nice to be kept in the loop anyway. Especially after he’d taken such a big chance solely on her hunch today.

  That wasn’t fair. It was his hunch, too, along with his persistent integrity that had forced him to search the evidence room.

  His heart gave a kick in his chest when she opened the door. She was dressed simply in a white top and trim pants, with heels that put her in easy range of a kiss. If only this was a different kind of dinner. Her hair was down, and at the open collar of her shirt, a turquoise pendant in a silver setting drew his attention. The woman was giving him a fever.

  He held up the bakery box between them. “Peace offering,” he managed.

  “What is it?” Her nose twitched as she accepted the box. She stepped back so he could walk in.

  “I guess you’ll have to wait until after dinner to find out,” he teased, closing the door behind him and turning the dead bolt. To his astonishment she faked a little pout. It was dangerously sexy.

  “Dinner is a simple stew,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Something smelled delicious, and the equipment drying out the repaired wall pushed the aroma throughout her condo. “Wow,” he said, taking in the expanse of clean wall. “They did a good job. And fast. You sure didn’t waste much time.”

  “No one did,” she said. “It was a long day, and the fan is getting on my nerves. I’m focusing on how delighted I am that the message is gone.”

  “I bet.”

  She stopped at the kitchen counter, her fingertips tracing the string tie on the box. “Don’t tell me you’re a white-noise type of person.”

  “Not a bit. Would you rather take this somewhere else?” His apartment was available. And far more disconnected from the Colton Investigations case than anywhere else in the city. No one would expect the new Wentworth lawyer to hang out with him.

  She clearly wanted a peek at what he’d brought, but she deliberately averted her gaze. He admired that kind of discipline and couldn’t help wondering what it would take to break it. In a good way of course.

  Straightening her shoulders, she flicked a hand toward the stove. “Beef stew,” she said. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. “I’m having a really hard time not jumping all over you.”

  The admission caught him off guard, and he floundered for an answer, wondering what she expected. He wouldn’t mind being jumped by Pippa.

  “About the case,” she clarified. “I know you couldn’t tell me more via text earlier, but why should I be looking into any GRPD connections?”

  He smothered the sudden disappointment that her thoughts hadn’t matched up with his. This was the moment of truth. Sharing what he hadn’t found in the evidence room could change everything. Correction: it would change everything. He’d wrestled with this moment all day. It wasn’t exactly his job to tell her the evidence was gone. He had active cases that should trump her effort to undo solid police work. But treating her like the enemy wasn’t working for him. If he’d ignored it, he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror. “There is no reason for what I’m about to say to become public knowledge. In fact, you can’t tell anyone yet. Do you understand?”

  “I know how to be discreet.” She folded her arms over her chest. “And I can keep secrets locked down tight when it helps my client.”

  “This will help your client,” he muttered. “I don’t suppose you have a beer?”

  “Once we’re officially off duty,” she said.

  “I clocked out,” he said. “Besides, aren’t we officially having dinner?”

  “Dinner before tackling a CI assignment,” she reminded him.

  “I happen to know Griffin has a beer, even when he’s on an active investigation for CI.”

  “Fine.” He must’ve passed some test. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Before she handed it over, she said, “Tell me why you sent that message.”

  “Because the evidence box for your case is gone. Missing.”

  She was speechless and pretty adorable, her mouth hanging open in pure shock. He had a serious soft spot when it came to Pippa Colton.

  “Who signed it out?”

  He used the bottle opener she handed him and popped the top off the beer bottle. “No idea. That’s the problem. Your name is actually the last one tied to the case, per the logs. I know you don’t have it,” he hurried to add when she started to protest. “I searched all over for the box and the contents. Nothing has been misfiled or shoved into the wrong box. Everyone who’s been in and out of the evidence room since your visit is accounted for.”

  She sat down on the counter stool, her gaze drifting back to the wall that had been vandalized yesterday and was clean today, if drab and plain. “So how
did the box go missing?” She turned to him, her eyes intent as she sorted through what he’d said. “I can see how the contents might be smuggled out, but the whole box?”

  “Right?” He shook his head, feeling as if he’d let her down. Ridiculous, but true. “I can’t see anyone outside the GRPD managing it.”

  She pursed her lips. “I’d have to agree.”

  He waited for her to shout at him that this proved Anna Wentworth had been set up, but Pippa only sat there, her brow furrowed in contemplation. What was going through her mind? Did she suspect he was feeding her a line to impede her progress?

  “That’s it? You’re not going to gloat or taunt me about the missing evidence box?” He’d expected...well, he didn’t know what he’d expected. Definitely not easy acceptance.

  “Did you take it?” she asked.

  “Hell, no. I don’t have anything to hide.”

  “Then why waste my breath shouting at you?” She shrugged. “Obviously, the disappearing evidence is a compelling problem. I’ll work from what her defense team had during the trial and what I can glean from the notes I took before the box went missing. I will overturn that conviction.”

  And he would help her, whether she wanted him on board or not. He’d spent the majority of his day doing just that already. “What happened with your art?” he asked, changing the subject awkwardly. “I assume that was the errand you ran this afternoon. Was anything damaged beyond repair?”

  “No, it will just take time to clean.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks for asking. The framing shop thinks they can have the pieces cleaned and reframed and the glass replaced within a week. The cleaning crew told me I could repaint and redecorate as soon as everything dried out.” She rubbed her temples. “Theory is, the fan will be gone by tomorrow night.” She checked the clock. “You must be hungry.”

  She moved through her kitchen in the same way she did everything else, with an economy of movement that was streamlined and graceful and with a sense of purpose. Tonight she didn’t seem to be braced for battle as she’d been when he’d shown up last night.

  Filling two bowls with stew, she brought them over to the counter and then set a basket of thick slices of brown bread between them. She poured water for both of them and a glass of wine for herself.

  The stew was a flavorful blend of savory beef, red potatoes, onion, carrots and celery. The aroma was amazing, and a spicy kick of heat surprised him. “This is delicious, thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” She eyed him over her wine glass. “You sound surprised.”

  Another opportunity to prove his integrity. “I didn’t expect you to cook. Not for me.”

  She pointed at him with her fork. “I’m going to play nice and not take any offense at that.”

  “Because I brought you something from the bakery?”

  “Maybe a little,” she confessed, amusement dancing in her green eyes. “Really, it’s because my parents held us to a high standard of hospitality. On top of that, you brought me information that can change everything about how I work Anna’s case.” She took another bite of stew, chewing slowly.

  Why did he find her every move appealing? He focused on the food, hearty and warm and comforting.

  “I’m sure it’s occurred to you that you’ve become a person of interest.” She broke a piece of bread in two and dipped it into the sauce.

  “It crossed my mind,” he said. Unfortunately it was chased by the thought that he’d rather earn her interest on a personal level. Based on his role in the Wentworth conviction, that was likely just a pipe dream. “I had to be on your list even before I told you about the missing evidence box.”

  “Yes, but you were at the bottom of the list.”

  “Why?”

  Being at the bottom of her list felt like a personal attack, though he knew she was speaking of the case. The chemistry he sensed between them was apparently one-sided, and it would be better if he could ignore that slow simmer in his bloodstream. He was eight years older than her, so maybe “seasoned detective” wasn’t her type.

  He’d seen formal pictures and candid snapshots of the Colton siblings during his visits to Griffin’s place and the office located in their family home. It always seemed as if Pippa, a notorious workaholic, vacationed with equal focus and intensity by choosing hiking or sailing or otherwise off-the-beaten-path adventures with friends like Elizabeth Wentworth. “I felt too strongly about you,” she said.

  He smothered another flicker of that persistent attraction.

  “In court, you were too sure of what you’d found,” she was saying. “I didn’t want to talk with you until I had a better handle on who you were as a detective and a man.”

  “You were going to ask Griffin about me,” he said, seeing the truth in her eyes. “To find an angle.”

  “Yes.” Her chin came up, unapologetic. “But then he declared that you were going to be my bodyguard, and I was too irritated with both of you.”

  “So when will the interrogation begin in earnest?” he asked, taking a second slice of bread. The stew was good enough that he wanted seconds, but his stomach was too jittery over what they might uncover as they discussed the Wentworth case.

  “I’d really like to hear your thoughts on the evidence you found.” She pushed her fork around her bowl and then set it aside. “I’ve read the report and listened to your testimony in court, and I’d like you to walk me through that whole mess again, but not tonight.”

  “What do you want from me tonight?” His body had an opinion and Griffin wanted him to stick close, but Emmanuel was more interested in her wants and opinions.

  “Other than whatever you brought from the bakery, I’d like you to help me eliminate a few names from the long list of GRPD personnel tied to Anna’s case.”

  He checked his watch. “We have a few minutes before you’re scheduled to start that loan application, right?” He was pleased he kept his opinion on that to himself.

  She nodded as she gathered up their dishes and rinsed them at the sink. He followed her, loading the items into the dishwasher. “Thanks.”

  He thought they’d move into her office, but she retrieved her laptop and a manila folder with notes from her case file. With everything in place, she changed seats so they were side-by-side. “After your text, I created this long list of names. Of course your name is here, too, but I don’t believe you’re a killer any more than I believe Anna Wentworth is.”

  “Thanks?” The low undercurrent in her tone put him on alert. “Are you thinking I’m protecting the real killer?”

  She propped her chin on her fist and studied him. “Not intentionally.”

  “Are you always so hard to win over?”

  “Probably.” She fidgeted, tapping her pen against her knee. “I won’t apologize for having high standards.”

  He smiled. “I’d never ask you to lower your expectations.” Leaning forward, he scanned the list of names. “I will say I’ve learned through experience that good people are capable of doing bad things under the right circumstances.”

  “Anyone there have the right circumstances to frame Anna?”

  “No one is leaping out at me,” he said after a few minutes.

  “Me either,” she said with a gusty sigh.

  It looked as though she’d listed everyone on the force. With good reason. The Hicks murder had been high profile from the first moment his body was found on the Wentworth estate. The case shook up the entire city, and no one involved was above scrutiny as they worked the evidence and interviews. He figured Sadie’s name would be on that list if she’d been with the CSI that day.

  “Is it chocolate?” she asked, her gaze on the bakery box again.

  “Yes.”

  Another sigh that left him wondering how that soft breath would feel against his skin. Whoa. He yanked his thoughts back into line. Pulling out his cell phone, he
took a picture of her list. “We have the same information on the computer at the station,” he said. “But there, access to the files is also tracked.”

  “Which means possibly alerting someone to your search.” He nodded, and she continued, “Off the record, does anyone on the list have a reputation for mishandling evidence or steamrolling suspects?”

  “No one jumps out.” He returned to the top of the list. “Let’s clear out some of the easy ones. Not these two,” he said, pointing at the names of the responding officers. Though they had answered several calls at the Wentworth mansion, that team always came back to the station more amused than bothered by Anna’s nonsensical claims of thieving maids and scurrilous chefs.

  “You’re sure they don’t hate her in secret?” Pippa asked. “Maybe we should check their social media for any latent despise-Anna tendencies.”

  Emmanuel shook his head. “Even if they did hate her, those two officers have other things going on in life. Little league, soccer practices. They aren’t the kill-somebody-to-get-even type.”

  “I’ll take your word.” She pulled the list closer and crossed off those two names.

  “Really?”

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” she asked.

  “No.” Her acceptance felt as awkward as her resistance had last night. “I just... I don’t understand you,” he blurted it out.

  “You don’t need to.” Her lips curled into a smile. “Last week, I did my best to pin down the last time Anna wore the brooch that was found under Hicks’s body. Neither of those officers was near her bedroom suite in that time frame.”

  “So that was a test?” he asked, irritated.

  “Not at all,” she assured him. “I considered the outside chance of them having an accomplice within the mansion staff. Your confidence in their character is enough for me.”

  Pressure eclipsed the irritation. “Anna Wentworth was the prime suspect from day one. Moment one,” he amended. “Before the brooch was discovered.”