It was well before daybreak when Madeline woke, dazed by the unfamiliar surroundings. A furnacelike heat radiated against her back, and heavy weights kept her pinned to the bed. She blinked a few times, identifying the warmth caused by Cruz’s body pressed against hers. One thigh was wedged between her own, and his arm draped over her waist. She sighed a little, settling back against him once more. She’d fallen asleep after they’d made love, but he’d woken her often during the night, his body inviting hers to taste satisfaction again.
She lay in his embrace quietly for a time, listening to the even breathing of the man next to her. One part of her wished that she could return to similar unconsciousness. But she knew that luxury would be denied her. Her mind was wide-awakenow, her thoughts uncomfortably demanding. She stretched, easing out from under Cruz cautiously. She searched for her sweater and pulled it on before padding down the staircase to the kitchen. The curtainless windows allowed all the light from the star-studded sky to spill into the apartment, and she had no difficulty finding her way. Pulling open a cupboard, she took out a glass, went to the refrigerator and poured herself some milk.
Sitting at the counter, she sipped slowly, staring pensively into space. Last night had been completely outside her experience. She’d never let herself respond like that, had never been forced to respond like that before. Cruz had drawn out every emotion, every reaction, and had savored it, reciprocating in full. He’d reached for her over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Amazingly, her response had been just as uninhibited each time.
But now, desire satisfied, self-doubts returned full force to nag at her with insistent clamoring. She’d just complicated her investigation. Separating emotion from cool professional reason could only be more difficult after the hours she’d just spent with him. She should never have allowed last night to happen. She couldn’t afford to trust him, not while she was still looking for signs of his possible involvement with the gun supply. Having slept with him, now she wouldn’t be able to trust herself.
Would she be able to look at every aspect of the case as objectively as she needed to? Or would she constantly doubt herself, searching through every decision she made for flaws in judgment? Her lips flattened. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. And she would force it to work to her benefit. In order to prove his innocence or guilt, she was going to have to maintain strict control over each conclusion she drew, every shred of evidence she found. And she was going to have to do it with a much greater detachment than she had displayed here tonight.
She’d worked too hard to get where she was today, professionally as well as personally. Perhaps there had been a pattern to her life, but it was a pattern of her choosing. Cruz Martinez wasn’t going to change that-she wouldn’t allow him to. Tonight hadn’t altered anything, she assured herself. She was still investigating him; she would still have to seek out every pertinent piece of information on him, analyze it, and report on it. If the time came that she was responsible for Cruz’s arrest, well, she’d handle that, too.
But there was no denying that the hours she’d just spent with him would make that moment more painful for her.
The phone rang on the counter near her, and she started in shock. It was cut off after one ring, and she looked cautiously in the direction of the stairs. She couldn’t remember if there was another phone in Cruz’s room, and hoped this wouldn’t wake him. The answering machine switched on, and his voice invited callers to leave a message. She listened to the caller’s breathing. When he spoke, she recognized Tommy’s voice instantly.
“Martinez? Hey, Martinez, I really need to talk to you. I’m in big trouble, man. This place you told me about, I’m not safe here. Valdez is on my trail. You got to get me out of here. Call Valdez off, you know you can.” Here his voice broke, and real fear laced it when he spoke again. “You put me in danger, man. Now you get me out of it.”
The connection was broken but the message replayed over and over in Madeline’s numb mind.
This place you told me about… Call Valdez off… you know you can…
She felt frozen, the breath trapped in her chest. She finally released it in a great shuddering gasp. She couldn’t stop Tommy’s words from hammering inside her head. They joined all the other questions and doubts there, punctuated them with insidious clarity.
This place you told me about… Just days ago Cruz had led her to believe that he didn’t know where Tommy was hiding out. He’d made her believe that she was putting Tommy’s life in danger by her insistence on checking back with him. She was suddenly very sure that Cruz had Tommy hidden in a place she was guaranteed to never find or talk to him again. But was it for Tommy’s safety or his own?
Had Cruz deliberately put the man’s life in danger? Tommy had been frightened, certain that Valdez was after him. Abruptly she remembered the snitch Brewer had told her about, the one who’d wound up with bullet holes in him after relating that a cop was involved in the gun supply. Her stomach lurched alarmingly. The possibilities were too gruesome to contemplate.
She shook herself mentally, forcing her thoughts into order. Tommy might truly believe Cruz was responsible for his danger, or his danger might be the result of an alcohol-induced delusion. But she had no way of knowing which was true. All she had was her own determination to answer these questions once and for all. And to deal with whatever answers she found.
Madeline stood so suddenly that her stool teetered wildly behind her. Without thinking, she reached in back of her to steady it with one hand. Like an automaton she took her glass to the sink and rinsed it out. The first thing to do was to get out of here without having to face Cruz. She desperately needed the next few hours to prepare herself for that particular ordeal. Creeping upstairs, she swept up the rest of her clothes, not allowing her eyes to move to the bed. Back downstairs she dressed hurriedly and called for a cab.
Waiting for the car to arrive, she was treated with a sample of what was in store for her for the duration of the investigation. Mental images of their bodies entwined, the seductive contrast of their skin, the heat that had flared instantly to life between them flitted across her memory. She pushed them determinedly, inexorably away. Perhaps those memories would be her most dangerous enemy now. They could work on her resolve, infiltrate her detached resistance if she was weak enough to let them.
But no. Weakness had never been allowed in Madeline Casey’s life. This time her eyes were wide open, and whichever way the evidence eventually pointed, she would be the one pushing forward with the investigation, seeing it to its conclusion. Neither memories nor emotion would be allowed to interfere with that.
She stared bleakly into space. She didn’t doubt that it would be the most difficult task she’d ever undertaken.
An hour later Madeline came out of her apartment bedroom in time to hear her cell ring. Snatching it up, she looked at the call screen with trepidation. When she saw it was her father, she allowed it to go to voice mail. Obviously Francis Vincent had gotten word to him about seeing her with Cruz at the restaurant. Geoffrey Casey had lost no time calling his daughter to express his disapproval.
As her hand was on the doorknob the cell rang again. She closed her eyes briefly. Despite the surface calm she’d managed, each time she heard it she almost jumped out of her skin. But this time when she looked at the screen she saw a number she didn’t recognize. Because it wasn’t Cruz’s, she answered it.
“Detective Casey?” Her eyes widened as she recognized the voice and pulled the door shut behind her. “Is that you? I need to talk to you, Detective Casey. Real bad.”
“Ricky? Yes, it’s me.”
The words started to tumble out of the boy. “I really gotta talk to you, Detective. It’s about Ramsey. I think he’s in a lotta trouble.”
“Okay, Ricky, you did right to call.” Her voice was soothing. “Let’s get together and talk this out. Where can we meet?”
“I don’t know.” The boy’s voice dropped. “Ramsey can’t know I talked to you, and I can’t leave Rhonda alone.”
An idea struck her. “How about the library you always take her to? You could take her this morning just as you have in the past. I’ll meet you there.”
“And that other detective, too.”
Her voice was grim. “And that other detective, too,” she agreed. After getting the location of the library, she promised to meet him in an hour and a half, and disconnected. Funny, until Ricky had mentioned Cruz, Madeline had considered going without him. But she would never get away with that. After all their arguments about it, it would seem too out of character for her, especially after last night. At all costs, she had to do everything in her power to appear as if things were normal. She raised her chin and went out the door. Ready or not, she was about to embark on the most difficult pretense of her life.
Cruz jumped up as soon as he saw Madeline approaching his desk. He watched her carefully, trying to determine her mood. He’d been dismayed to find her gone this morning, with nothing but a short note explaining that she’d gone home to shower and change. He hadn’t liked the idea that she had left him sleeping and gone out alone. He didn’t like the idea of her out on the streets in the early hours without him, period. But now might not be the time to reveal his displeasure.
With narrowed eyes he took in her pale, drawn face. She was wearing gray this morning, another outfit of tailored pants and jacket, this time over a light peach blouse. Her hair was pulled back in that no-nonsense fashion she favored at work, and he gave an inward sigh. For some reason he thought this was more than just a return to her work persona. The way she was skirting his eyes as she approached him gave evidence of that.
“Good morning,” he said neutrally, still studying her carefully.
She managed what she hoped was a normal tone. “We’ve got a job right away this morning.” She told him of the call she’d received from Ricky. As she’d hoped, it took his attention off her for a moment.
He checked his watch. “How much time do we have?”
“About forty-five minutes.”
He walked out from behind the desk and toward her. She turned to precede him to the door. When his hand fell on her shoulder, she shrugged it away before she could prevent a reaction.
Cruz strode ahead of her and stopped in her path. Surveying her with narrowed eyes, he muttered, “We need to talk.”
Madeline was aware of interested glances cast their way and nodded, avoiding his gaze. “In the car.”
With a muttered curse he led the way through the building and to the car. He slid in behind the wheel and she situated herself in the passenger seat. Reaching beneath the seat, she extracted the city map and after studying it, proceeded to give him directions to the library where they were to meet Ricky.
Cruz drove silently for a time. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively mild. “I would have taken you home this morning, you know.”
She took a deep breath. The time for the showdown had arrived. “I know, but I was up early, and didn’t see any need to wake you.” She shrugged. “You already had a stop to make at your parents’ this morning. It was best that I left when I did.”
“No, dammit, it wasn’t best.” He bit out the words. When she looked at him cautiously, his face was grim. “I was hoping to find you there when I woke up. I didn’t like finding that you’d snuck out, like a thief in the night.”
Her eyes stared unseeingly out her side window. “I’d hardly describe it that way.”
“Wouldn’t you? How would you describe it?”
She looked over at him warily. His jaw was clenched and a telltale muscle was jumping in it. “I left a note.”
“Ah, yes, your note. The next time you’re in my bed, Maddy, you’ll stay there where you belong. You will not be gone at first light, just because you’re running scared.”
One eyebrow climbed at his chauvinistic assumption that she would return to his bed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The look he turned on her then was like none she’d ever seen on his face before. Implacable male pride was there, as well as a primitive possessiveness. “You scared yourself last night.” He made a gesture, dismissing the denial on her lips. “But I won’t let you pretend that nothing happened. I won’t let you erect a barrier between us as easily as the guise you put on each day to face the world.”
“Nothing scares me, Martinez, so save the psychobabble,” she retorted, her temper flaring to meet his own. “I needed to go home, I went. Don’t make more out of it than it was.”
Out of what? he wondered grimly. Out of her leaving, or out of the night they’d spent together? Somehow he thought she meant the latter. And he didn’t like the feeling that she was dismissing it, dismissing him, so easily.
“By the way, your machine came on as I was leaving,” she said in a studiedly casual voice. “Sounded to me like you knew where Tommy was all along.”
Cruz was silent for a moment, but his mind was racing. “I did,” he admitted finally. “Is that what had you running out before dawn this morning? You were upset I didn’t tell you where he was?”
She gritted her teeth at his choice of words. So far this morning it had been amazingly easy to resist his appeal. Each time he opened his mouth she was tempted to punch him. “We’ve already discussed why I left. But I would like to know why you kept his whereabouts from me.”
It was a long moment before he spoke again. “I was trying to protect him. I was the one who gave him an idea of where to go to lie low for a while. But Tommy has a hard time staying put, especially when the whiskey runs out. He thinks he was spotted by Valdez, and he’s convinced he’s in danger.”
“What do you think?”
He sighed. “It’s hard to tell. Tommy can’t even remember where he was when he thought he saw Valdez. But he could be right. So I’ve arranged to place him elsewhere.”
She frowned. “How do you know this place will be any safer than the last one? Or that Tommy doesn’t have more information to give us on Valdez? I think we should talk to him again.”
“No.” His response was firm. “Every time we’re seen with Tommy we’re increasing the danger for him. He’s safe anywhere I place him, if he remains drunk enough to stay put.”
She looked at him askance. “You’re seeing to that, too, I suppose.”
He gave her a hard look. “Damn right I am. We realized how dangerous Valdez was. Everyone on the street was scared to talk about him. But I went to Tommy because I knew I could count on his need for alcohol being greater than his need to stay alive. Now it’s my job to keep him alive, and I’m going to do it.”
Frustration slammed into her. There was no way she could be sure of Cruz’s real motives for hiding Tommy away. He could be worried for his safety, as he claimed. Or he could be keeping the man as far from her as he could so that she couldn’t quiz Tommy about Cruz’s possible involvement in the gun supply scheme.
She weighed her options, and had to admit they were limited. Cruz was the only one who could lead her to Tommy, and he’d refused. And it didn’t sound as if the snitch would be in very reliable shape if she did find him. Her time after-hours would be better spent tracking down the source of Cruz’s second income. But she didn’t like feeling outmaneuvered, and her voice was full of sarcasm when she spoke. “Is there anything else you’ve decided to keep from me? Given your superior wisdom about what’s best for this case, I mean?”
His next words were laden with meaning. “I think it’s your turn to tell what you’ve been keeping from me.”
For just a second she froze, her mind flashing to the secret investigation she was doing. But then he spoke again and she relaxed, if only for an instant. “You still haven’t told me the truth about why you left this morning. Maybe you haven’t admitted it to yourself, either.”
“Last night was a mistake,” she said bluntly, with ironic understatement. “And it won’t happen again. I’m not going to risk the integrity of this case by getting involved with my partner. We need to focus all our energy on finding Valdez and stopping the gun supply. Any involvement of a more personal nature is out of the question.”
Cruz turned into the parking lot of the library a little more sharply than necessary. Involvement? he repeated in a silent, savage echo. Personal? He wanted to force her to realize just how ridiculous her words were. But one look at her set face was enough to tell him that all efforts would be in vain. In truth, he’d been half- anticipating this since he’d wakened to find her gone. But it didn’t make it any easier to take, and it didn’t improve his temper.
“All right,” he agreed after a time. “You win.”
She cast a wary glance in his direction. “What do you mean?”
“If you want to believe that this case is the only thing that sent you running from my bed this morning, I’m not going to argue with you anymore.”
“How kind.” Her voice dripped with ice.
“But when the case is over, what excuse will you use then, Maddy? What other reason will you find for us to stay away from each other? Because manufacturing another excuse is a hell of a lot easier for you to deal with than facing what’s between us, isn’t it?”
Without waiting for an answer he opened the door and got out of the car. After a moment Madeline did the same, following him across the parking lot. They walked without a word into the brightly lit library. It took several minutes to find the table where Ricky was seated. He saw them coming and jumped up, leading his little sister away. A few minutes later he came back, and they all sat at the table he’d vacated
His eyes went in the direction he’d taken Rhonda. “I don’t have much time. I don’t want Rhonda to see you again, and there’s no telling how long she’ll sit back there with the book I picked out for her.”
“Just tell us what has you so worried,” Madeline said softly. Her eyes were wide and sincere when she reached across the table with one hand and touched one of his. “We want to help Ramsey, Ricky. If he’s in trouble like you say, we might be the only ones who can help him.”
“Just trust us, Ricky.” Cruz’s voice was soothing. “Tell us what has you so spooked.”
The boy took a deep breath, then began speaking, his voice low. “That time you came to the apartment, you brought that picture? Well, I asked Ramsey about the man in it, and he got real mean, you know? Started shoving me around and yelling at me.” He stopped here, his voice breaking.
“Where was your mom when this happened?” Cruz asked.
“At work. Anyway, I didn’t say no more then, ‘cause he was real mad at me for even letting you in. But I knew something was wrong. I could tell by the way he was acting. So…” He took a deep breath, “I started following him.”
Cruz and Madeline exchanged a glance. “You went after him when he was with the gang members?”
“Yeah, I could only go when our neighbor could watch Rhonda. I just started hanging out where I might hear them talking.”
“And did you hear anything?” Madeline asked.
“Not until I started following him to Cantoney’s place. I was on the fire escape one day, and I heard the whole plan. Only the guys were talking about Ramsey-he wasn’t there. They’d sent him out to buy beer.” His eyes met theirs, solemn and scared at the same time. “The Lords are gonna get the guy who shot Ramsey. They already have a fancy gun they’re gonna use. I saw Dirk showing it around to the guys. And Cantoney, he’s got the whole thing planned out. He’s gonna get Ramsey’s fingerprints on the gun. If he ever gets caught, he’ll make sure the cops find the gun and Ramsey will get blamed for it. Then he said, like Ramsey’s just a kid and probably wouldn’t serve any hard time.”
Madeline exchanged a grim look with Cruz. But there was more. Ricky went on, “I told Ramsey about it when he got home. He said he knew all about the plan, but I could tell he didn’t, you know? And he got real mad, told me to shut up and that I’d better not follow them anymore, or else he’d tell Dirk about me.” He shook his head. “I never seen him like that before. I really thought he’d hurt me. I asked him to think about what would happen to him if the cops traced the shooting back to him, and he said Dirk would take care of us.” He snorted. “I don’t think Dirk is gonna take care of no one but himself. Or he wouldn’t be mixing Ramsey up in this. And I read about a kid, he was only fourteen, and he shot someone and got tried as an adult.” He raised his scared eyes to theirs. “That could happen to Ramsey, couldn’t it? He could go to prison for a long time, couldn’t he?”
Cruz nodded soberly. “He sure could, Ricky. And the way Dirk has this set up there would be no reason for the police to look any farther for a suspect. They’d have Ramsey, a motive and a murder weapon.”
“All that’s missing is opportunity,” Madeline murmured. “Ricky, did you hear enough to figure out when this is going to happen?”
The boy shook his head.
“All right then.” Cruz smiled at the boy. “You did good, calling us like this. Real good.”
He looked uneasy. “If Ramsey finds out I talked to you, I don’t know what he’ll do to me.”
“We won’t tell him,” Madeline said honestly, “but Ricky, I can’t promise he won’t figure it out. With what you told us, though, we might be able to stop the shooting before it happens. And then Ramsey won’t get into any trouble. Okay?”
Ricky nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“You take Rhonda home soon, and stick close to the apartment until this blows over,” Cruz suggested. “Don’t try to follow your brother anymore. Make him think that you listened to his last warning, and he might never suspect you talked to us.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Madeline promised. They left him sitting at the table, looking very young and uneasy. Once they were outside she spoke. “Where’s the most likely place for Cantoney to keep the weapon?”
“Well, he’d be stupid to keep it at his apartment. A violation of parole like that would send him right back to prison.”
“But he is a control freak,” she reminded him. “What are the chances he would allow one of his men to keep it?” They looked at each other and said simultaneously, “It’s in his apartment.”
“It’s got to be,” Cruz stated with certainty. “I know Cantoney too well to think he’d let someone else hide it. Dirk probably has been milking this plan, getting all the members together and bragging, building himself up.”
“There’s no way of knowing how long Cantoney has had the weapon,” Madeline said. “There’s really no time to lose.”
“Well, we’ve got an eyewitness who can place the gun in Cantoney’s hands, in Cantoney’s apartment, and who heard what he was planning to do with it. We’ve got enough to get a search warrant.”
“Let’s just hope that we’re in time,” Madeline said grimly. “Because if he goes ahead with this plan, all signs will point to Ramsey. Any attempt then to nail Cantoney for it and he’ll make sure that Ramsey is framed.”
The drive back to the district headquarters was made in record time, and still it seemed endless to Madeline. Neither of them spoke, for which she was grateful. The scene with him earlier, before they’d met with Ricky, had been tougher than she’d expected. She knew her argument had seemed in character for her, but his response to it had surprised her.
Outraged ego she could have dealt with. An easy dismissal, that of a man who could have any woman he wanted, would have been expected. But she hadn’t counted on his insights, and she damned them, and him, for hitting so close to home.
Several times Cruz started to speak, but one look at her colorless face, at the mauve shadows beneath her eyes, was enough to make him hold his tongue. He was normally a very patient man, but for some reason patience didn’t enter into his feelings for Maddy. After last night it infuriated him that she’d so quickly thrown up still another wall between them. She hadn’t been an easy person to get close to, but he knew more about her than she thought. He’d suspected that the fire in her hair was matched by an answering flame in her personality, and he’d been proven right. She had a quick wit and a temptingly short fuse. Last night had brought out the flame he’d suspected was there, buried but ready to burst forth, given enough coaxing.
Just the memory of their time together was enough to make his jeans uncomfortably tight. She’d been everything he’d hoped for, everything he could have imagined. And the thought of having to wait as long as this case took to solve before having her again was enough to make him grind his teeth in frustration. But wait he would.
# # # #
Madeline sat at the desk and typed up the search warrant. Cruz sat by her side, playing a little solo drum piece on the desk top.
“We are on our way, Maddy, I can feel it. We’re going to get into Cantoney’s apartment, we’re going to find that gun, we’re going to stop another kid from dying, and stop Ramsey from ending up in prison…”
“Slow down,”she answered. “Let’s get the warrant signed first. Then we’ll see about the rest of your prophecies.” Could he be this good a liar? she wondered dismally, if he had a stake in the outcome? He’d have to be very sure indeed that his link to the suppliers was well hidden. Or that he’d be able to destroy any evidence that would provide that link.
“Wait and see. I’m right on this, I know it…” The phone on his desk rang then and Cruz snatched it up. “Lieutenant Niles,” he said aloud, casting a telling eye to Madeline and holding up crossed fingers. “What did you find out from the lab work from Stover’s room?”
She was aware that she was holding her breath. Watching Cruz’s face was an exercise in frustration. He said little, mostly listened. Toward the end of the conversation he said, “You’re kidding. What was it? No, I’m afraid not.” After a couple more minutes he said, “Yeah, I think we’ll do that. Thanks for the call. You bet.” He hung up the phone.
“Well?” Madeline prompted at his silence.
“Niles’s men have been busy. They tried tracking the woman who put up Stover’s bail. The address on the ID she showed didn’t pan out. She hasn’t lived there in several years. She’s got a record for prostitution, but she hasn’t been seen in her old territory since Stover’s release. They’re still looking.”
“She’s probably long gone,” Madeline said gloomily. “It’s sounding more and more as if she was given the money to get Stover out so that he could be killed. She’d be a fool to risk staying around after the murder. What about Stover’s room?”
“Fingerprinting it was almost a bust,” Cruz said. “They found no trace of Valdez’s prints on any of the surfaces there. But-” he held up a finger “-they did find a ballpoint pen under the bed with prints that matched Valdez’s.”
“That could place Valdez at the scene,” she said hopefully. “Doesn’t make him guilty of murder, though.”
“Three guesses what the lieutenant said the murder weapon was,” Cruz said, “and the first two don’t count.”
“No contest. It was an AK-47.”