Kansas City Cover-Up (10 page)

“Like my dad?”

Ouch. So defending the family honor was working on her, too. Gabe absorbed the rightful pang of guilt and opened his door. But he didn’t get in. This needed to be said. “I thought your dad and Junkert should have solved the case. I didn’t know about his accident or how he felt about leaving the force with unfinished business. I’m coming at this from the victim’s side when I’ve criticized the department for dragging its feet on an investigation. Finding answers and hearing someone take responsibility for the wrong they’ve done is all we have to make up in some small way for the loss we’ve suffered.”

“You think we don’t know that?”

Gabe tapped his fist on top of the car, torn between his loyalty to one woman and his concern for another. “I’ve always believed that victims and their families need a voice. And I’m the SOB who’s going to stand up and be that voice.”

Her eyes were a deep storm green in the shadows. “Most of the time, we do our job right. We get the bad guys off the street and the victims and their families thank us for it. Why don’t you print any of that?”

Because he’d been eaten up by guilt and pain for so long that it was hard to put a positive, hopeful spin on things when he hadn’t felt much of that positivity and hope. Until now. Until Ron Kober’s murder offered them a lead. Until Olivia Watson took over the case. “I’m sure your dad tried to find Dani’s killer. If he’s got half the determination you do, I know he tried. I didn’t fully understand how determined Leland Asher and Senator McCoy were about keeping their collusion a secret. But I do now. I’ll try to keep a more open mind about the department.”

“You really do have a way with words, don’t you.” Why didn’t that sound like a compliment? Olivia tipped her chin up to a nearby streetlamp, stretching her long neck before meeting his gaze over the roof of the Explorer. “How do you feel about no words at all? I’ll trade ten minutes of not talking about the fire, not talking about the case, not talking about my family—not talking about anything—for that ride back to your car
.
”

He braced his forearms on the door frame and leaned toward her. “Olivia, you know what we need to talk about.”

That kiss. The way her hand felt in his. This unexpected emotional connection. The hungry urge simmering beneath the surface to kiss her again. To do it right this time—not on a concrete slab, not when they both reeked of smoke and fatigue. Not when she was locked down so tightly that he could see the muscle pulsing along her jaw.

She was no dummy. The blush on her cheeks indicated that she knew exactly what he was referring to. But she shook her head adamantly and opened her door. “Ten minutes, Gabe. Please. I need some time to sort through things and regroup.”

In ten minutes, she’d be dropping him off and driving away. “So we catalogue what happened between us with your phobia of small rodents? We keep it a secret, or else?”

Her voice was an angry whisper over the roof of the car. “I won’t threaten to shoot you because you kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

“Ten minutes, Gabe.” Her temper dimmed as quickly as it had flared. “Or you’re walking. Deal?”

He wasn’t going to add to her stress. As long as they solved Dani’s murder, it would be enough. It should be enough. But it didn’t feel like finishing a long-overdue job and then walking away could ever be enough with this woman.

Still, he’d been driven and obsessed and shut off from his heart for so long, he wasn’t used to feeling anything but grief or guilt or anger. He’d be foolish to think whatever emotions he was feeling tonight meant anything to her—meant anything at all. Maybe he needed those ten minutes, too.

Gabe waited until she was buckled in before climbing in beside her. “Deal.”

Chapter Eight

“I heard you’ve been spending time with Gabe Knight from the paper.” Duff Watson pushed open the door into the Fourth Precinct lobby and cleared a path for Olivia to enter without anyone jostling her sore arm.

Rolling her eyes at the attention her volunteer chauffeur was drawing to the black sling she wore over her short gray jacket, she walked past her oldest brother. “He’s a consultant on a case I’m working on. Danielle Reese’s murder.”

“Dad’s old case?”

She nodded, stopping in the middle of the marble-tiled foyer. “You were at the hospital. You saw that Gabe and Dad knew each other.”

“Yeah, but I figured that was a one-time thing.” Duff muttered something under his breath. “I didn’t know you two were going to be joined at the hip. Keir said he was at the scene of the fire with you last night. That the two of you escaped together.”

“He knows more about that case than anyone.” Duff had been a detective longer than she had. He knew that made Gabe her primary lead. “I’m hoping to kill several birds with one stone—take a killer who’s gotten away with murder for six years off the streets, get Dad that perfect record he wants—and Lieutenant Rafferty-Taylor wants me to try to mend some fences between Gabe and the department. Get us some positive press.”

Duff, a younger, taller ringer for their stocky father, stuffed his hands in his jeans and drew in a deep breath. Maybe he was feigning surprise, and maybe he was just using his big silhouette to shield her from the officers and staff filing through the lobby. “That’s a tall order.”

“He’s doing his job, Duff. The same way we do ours.”

He nodded to some friends he knew from the drug task force he was currently assigned to before facing her again. “Yeah, but Knight has a way of putting things that makes it sound like he’s got a personal vendetta against the department.”

“Danielle Reese was his fiancée.”

“That’s rough.” Duff rubbed his hand at the back of his neck, conceding that much.

“I try to put myself in his shoes and understand where he’s coming from by remembering how we felt when Mom was killed.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to the KCPD logo on her brother’s jacket, the only outward sign she allowed for the pain she could so vividly remember. “I was either crying all the time or angry at everyone.” She pushed aside the memories and looked up again. “I said and did some things I regret—until Dad and Uncle Al caught that dopehead, and the healing started.”

“You were only nine years old, kiddo. We all lashed out back then. Knight’s a grown man.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier. I was scared that guy was going to come after me or one of you guys or Grandpa until I saw him in handcuffs on his way to prison.” She shrugged, then winced as renewed ache in her shoulder ligaments made her wish she hadn’t. “I don’t think Gabe has any family here to worry about. But he’s got friends, and the people of Kansas City he’s speaking for. Maybe he takes us to task because he’s worried his fiancée’s killer is going to hurt somebody else—or already has.”

“Whose side are you on?”

Olivia blew out a frustrated puff of air that lifted her bangs. Her words had echoed the speech Gabe had given her last night. They had more in common than she would have ever guessed, but her brother wouldn’t understand this growing affinity she was feeling for the reporter. She wasn’t sure she understood it herself. “I’m not on anybody’s side. I’m just stating facts.”

Duff reached out with a gentle finger to poke the strawberry scrape on her cheekbone. “The only fact that I’m interested in is that you seem to keep getting hurt around Knight.”

“Technically, he’s getting hurt because he’s hanging out with me.”

“All I see is you in a sling, sportin’ those bruises on your face.” Duff’s fingers went back to his pockets. “I’m glad Dad called me.”

“He shouldn’t have.” Apparently, showing up at the scene of the fire and a report from the EMT last night hadn’t been enough to ease her father’s concern. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find her big brother at her front door this morning, waiting to drive her to her appointment at the clinic. “I pulled some muscles—nothing major. The doctor said I didn’t even have to wear this if I take it easy, and then, only for a couple of days. If it weren’t for Gabe, I’d have been fried to a crisp yesterday. He saved me.”

“Now you’re defending him? If Dad could hear you—”

“If Dad was here right now, I’d tell him the same thing.” Olivia did a little poking of her own, right in the middle of her brother’s chest. “Gabe wasn’t the bad guy yesterday. It took both of us, working together, to get out of that warehouse. Trust me, somebody didn’t want us to.”

The lines beside Duff’s green eyes crinkled with a teasing grin. “You got a thing for this guy?”

“What?” Olivia groaned and pushed him on his way. One kiss after a close call did not make her and Gabe a
thing.

“Seriously.” He waved his hands in front of her face, pointing out her tone and expression. “You’ve got that whole mama bear defending her territory thing going on right now.”

Sometimes she wondered who the mature sibling really was in this family. “Get back to work. I have to get upstairs to roll call.”

This conversation had already lasted too long and gotten too personal. But the big galoot wouldn’t take the hint. “I’ll be done with my shift at ten. You call me if you need a ride anywhere else today.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t want you to give me a ride here in the first place. You must be exhausted.”

Although he scrubbed his palm over his end-of-shift stubble, Duff shook his head. “A cup of coffee and I’m good for another three or four hours. Dad said we needed to keep an eye on you. It was an easy way to help out.”

“I can take care of myself. Or, I would have been able to, except now I’m without a vehicle.”

“Your partner can drive you. Or call one of the bros. You know we’re here for you, baby sister.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and started backing toward the doors.

“You do realize I’m twenty-nine years old. I’m not a
baby
anything, anymore.”

Duff came back a step and dropped his square jaw into her personal space to whisper, “Teasing aside, you get hurt again, and Keir or I are going to start shadowing this investigation with you.”

“No.”

“And after what Brower did to you, if this Gabe Knight makes you feel something again, and then throws it back in your face, there
will
be a conversation with the man.”

Great. He was dead serious.

“I don’t need babysitters. And I really don’t need romantic help from any of you confirmed bachelors. I am working my job and living my life just fine without—” But he wasn’t listening. He was leaving. “Duff? Thomas Watson Junior, I am talking to you.”

He tapped his thumb and fingers together like a quacking duck. “Blah, blah, blah. Big brothers never give up taking care of their little sister. See you at Sunday dinner. Love ya.”

“Grrr.” Olivia fisted her free hand down at her side, feeling smothered by just how much her family loved her at that moment.

She crossed over to the bank of elevators and jabbed the call button, softly chanting a reminder that wasn’t easing her frustration one bit. “They mean well—you love them. They mean well—you love them. They mean...”

She stepped into the elevator and a man darted in behind her. She recognized his musky cologne before she turned to meet his dark eyes. “Oh, great. Good morning, Marcus.”

“Good morning to you, too. Glad I caught you. I know you had a rough day yesterday.” He reached in front of her to close the doors before anyone else could join them. “How are you feeling, babe?”

“Babe? Really?” This day was off to a freaking fabulous start. “Have you been lying in wait for me to show up this morning?”

“I wanted to see for myself that you were all right. You got trapped in a fire. You wouldn’t talk to me last night. Can’t a guy worry about you?”

“Thanks for asking. I’m fine.” She punched the number three. With the unsettling and aggravating things Duff had said still stewing inside her, she’d pay good money to take this ride to the third floor in silence.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

“You know I’d have gotten you out of there in one piece.”

Somebody else did. Blue eyes, black hair and the most masculine hands on the planet had proved utterly reliable. “I
am
in one piece.”

“Are you really?”

Marcus brushed his fingers around the shell of her ear and she lurched away from the touch she wanted about as much as that answering throb of pain in her side. “Do we have to do this again?” She tried to explain her revulsion in a way that could penetrate his thick skull. “We were partners. We’re not, anymore. We were going to get married. We’re not, anymore. You’ve got no claim on my life other than being a coworker I pass in the hallway.”

But there was no getting through that ego she’d once mistaken as confidence. “Come on. Just because I screwed up doesn’t mean I don’t still have feelings for you. I want to take care of you. Especially when you’re hurt like this.” He opened his arms in a humble gesture. Did he really want a hug? “You said we could still be friends.”

“No. That was your idea.” She pointed at him, warning him to keep his distance. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“I saw Duff drop you off.”

“Family’s different.” Annoying and overbearing, at times, but at least she could trust them.

“You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

“I’ve forgiven you, Marcus.” Is that what he wanted? Absolution for breaking her heart?

She herself was the one she was having such a hard time forgiving. How could she have been so sad and stupid to think she could make a relationship with her partner—a man she knew to be a player, no less—work? She’d fallen for the charm and excitement he brought to her life, for the security he’d made her feel. But that had all been a sham.

She looked up into his dark brown eyes, willing him to understand. “Forgiveness is one thing. But I’m too smart to ever forget. I don’t have the feelings we once shared. I’m not that naive about relationships anymore. I’ve moved on. You should, too.”

“I can only apologize so many times, babe. We were so good together. We have to find a way to make this work.”

They passed the second floor and Olivia turned on the man she’d once loved, determined to finish this conversation before they reached their destination. “The first thing you can do is stop calling me babe. You’re damn lucky I don’t file a sexual harassment suit. It’s Detective or Olivia or even
Hey, you.
But it will never be
babe
again.”

He had the gall to laugh, although the cutting undertones revealed a taunt, not amusement. “When did you get to be such an uptight virgin again? I know who you are. I know how you like it.”

“What?” She sputtered on her anger. “You son of a bitch.”

There was no charm in his voice now. “I’ve poured out my heart to you. I’ve groveled as much as a man can. I tell you, I’m not the same guy I used to be.” When he stepped toward her, Olivia backed against the elevator’s cold steel wall, not believing this wounded anger any more than she’d believed his altruistic concern. He slapped his hand on the wall beside her and she flinched. “I want to take care of you. I’m doing everything I can to win you back. And all you’ve got is that you want to sue me for harassment? It’ll never fly with a review board, Liv. We were engaged.”

“You’re threatening
me?
” Olivia shoved him out of her space as the elevator slowed its ascent.
I’m doing everything I can to win you back.
The glimmer of an idea slipped in between two angry, defensive breaths. Just how did Marcus think he was going to win her back? “You want to take care of me?”

“Yeah. Like old times.”

Could he have been following her? Hoping to rescue her from an emergency like yesterday’s fire so that she’d be grateful enough to take him back? Un-uh. She couldn’t handle games and lies like that again. “What kind of car do you drive?”

“You want to find out? It’s got a backseat where we can relieve some of that tension.”

She cursed his lack of an answer as much as the innuendo. “You seriously want to go on report, don’t you?” She waved aside whatever smart remark he had in mind. “Forget it.” She could run Marcus’s plate numbers without prolonging this conversation. She jabbed the open door button. The air in the elevator had suddenly grown toxic. “Just stay away from me.”

Olivia was on her way out before the doors fully opened. But Gabe Knight was standing right there in the waiting area. Jeans. Corduroy blazer. Taut features and black hair. The full package of cynicism and strength and blue eyes that never missed a detail.

She paused for a moment to meet the silent question in those eyes. But she had too many discomfiting emotions, too many unanswered questions of her own running through her head to be in a good place to deal with him right now. When Marcus bumped her on his way out of the elevator, she took off, too, wildly hoping that Gabe was getting on that elevator and leaving.

But she knew better.

Gabe followed her through the cubicle maze to her desk. “I came to see you,” his deep, low voice announced. With that and a cheery good morning from Jim at his desk, Olivia changed course and headed for the long hallway and interview rooms on the far side of the third floor. “Chief Taylor said I could sit in on meetings and interviews related to Dani’s case. Maybe share some insight on what your team has come up with. I promise I won’t publish any details on the case until—”

She interrupted his explanation with a pleading hand. “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’ve got strings to pull, but I can’t do this right now.” She opened the first empty room and stepped inside.

But her efforts to shut out the rest of the world for a little while were thwarted by a big foot, a strong arm and the rest of Gabe Knight coming in after her. The businesslike timbre of his voice changed as he quietly closed the door behind him. “You okay?”

Great. Now she was cornered. Olivia whirled around. “I wish everyone would stop asking me that.”