Morning came damn early, Cruz groused silently as he followed Madeline down the spiral staircase. The sky was still gray outside, night barely lifted, the moon still visible. He resented the need for them to rise so early, resented that she had to leave him at all, even for a couple of hours.
He had it bad, he admitted, jerking a tennis shoe over a bare foot and lacing it up. Because, to be truthful, he wouldn’t like any reason that took Maddy from his bed.
Casting a careful eye at Cruz’s set expression, she correctly guessed his mood, if not the cause. “You wake up grouchy,” she noted. “I’m delighted.”
“I don’t usually,” he contradicted her. He finished getting dressed and they walked out of the apartment. “I just don’t like having to do this.”
“You don’t have to walk me to my car,” she informed him for what seemed the hundredth time. “I know the way.”
“Yes, I do have to walk you to your car,” he contradicted. “You’re not going to be out on these streets alone. But you’re partly right-the fact that I have to do it at all is what’s bothering me.”
Reaching her car, she grasped the door handle. “And what would you have me do, Martinez?” she asked teasingly. “Show up for work wearing yesterday’s clothes? Or, no, wait, maybe I could find something in your closet to wear.”
She rolled her eyes comically, but the thought remained to tantalize him. Somehow the thought of her wearing something of his, with very little else, of course, was a provocative mental image. But right now they had something more important to think about.
“What I would have you do,” he said seriously, “is to consider bringing some things over so that we don’t have to do these early-morning goodbyes again.”
His words startled her, even as they brought a rush of warmth to her heart. Bring some things over. That would give their relationship a taunting sense of permanence, implying that there would be many more times when she would wake in his bed. The thought suffused her with heat, and with trepidation. Despite the secret she was keeping from him, the possibility of spending even more time with him was too precious to jeopardize.
He interpreted her silence as unwillingness, and mentally cursed his timing. Now wasn’t the right time to discuss this. No, the right time would have been when she was in his bed, her body warm from his, her lips still moist from his kisses. He’d been half surprised by the words as they’d left his mouth, but the moment they had he’d realized just how long he’d been subconsciously waiting for this moment. He wanted to know that he would wake up beside her each morning, and go to bed with her every night. He wanted to be certain that her earlier wariness of getting too close to him was gone, and to be very sure that it would never recur.
He wanted, he thought ruefully, a lot of things. And judging by her lack of response, he wasn’t going to get all of them, at least not right away. But he was a patient man. He’d take a little step now and push for more later.
It was with that thought in mind that he lowered his head and sealed her mouth with his own. He caught her unaware, much as his suggestion had, and he took full advantage of her slightly parted lips. His tongue pressed into her mouth in a sure, smooth stroke and Madeline’s knees weakened in an immediate, involuntary response.
Her purse dropped to the ground as she reached up to slide her hands across his shoulders, gripping them for support as she returned his kiss achingly. He kissed her with shattering absorption, heedless of their lack of privacy. She didn’t know how he did it, how he could so effortlessly drive away every thought, every concern she might have, until there was no thought left at all, only an answering need.
When he finally raised his head and looked at her, he had to fight an overpowering urge to take her back to bed again. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes heavy lidded and glittering. And her mouth… his groin tightened as he noted the slightly swollen lips.
“You fight dirty, Martinez,” she said in a slow, drugged-sounding voice.
His mouth went to her neck. “Then you’ll consider my suggestion?” The sharp nip he inflicted was immediately soothed by his tongue, and her attention was divided between his words and the sensations that were racing through her.
“All right,” she agreed in that same husky murmur.
That voice had a direct reaction on him, and he had to step away from her to keep himself from reaching for her again. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly, being careful not to touch her anywhere else. He bent to pick up her purse and handed it to her. “Good.” His low voice rumbled. “Drive safely. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” He waited until her car was driving away before a satisfied grin swept his face as he recalled what her words had implied. Whistling, he reentered his apartment building. He might as well finish varnishing the floor before he got ready for work. It would be an excellent way to work off his sudden energy, and to keep his mind off what she’d just promised.
Madeline had barely gotten inside her apartment before her doorbell rang. Sighing, she went to the door, and almost forgot to look into the peephole before she pulled the door open. That was a measure of just how much of an effect Cruz Martinez had on her, she mused as she stood aside to allow Ariel to enter. She seemed to be throwing all her caution out the window lately. And somehow she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“Well, well, if that isn’t a satisfied smile, I’ve never seen one,” Ariel drawled as she entered her friend’s apartment.
“Good morning to you, too,” Madeline answered.
“I was up early and saw your light. Thought I’d come over for some coffee. I called last night, but you must have been out until late. I can’t believe you’re up and dressed already, you’re a real early bird this morn-” Ariel’s chatter abruptly stopped as she strolled into the kitchen and noticed the coffeemaker wasn’t on. She frowned. One thing she knew about her friend was that she reached for a cup of coffee as soon as she stumbled out of bed in the morning. And since she was dressed, she must have been up for some time. She turned to survey Madeline, who was standing behind her, a resigned look on her face.
Under her nosy friend’s eagle eye, Madeline grew acutely uncomfortable. She reached up to push back her tousled hair, which had received only a quick brushing this morning, and that before Cruz had threaded his fingers through it when he’d kissed her. She tried for, and failed to bring off, a nonchalant expression.
“Madeline Katherine Casey.” Ariel pronounced each syllable deliberately. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you hadn’t been home at all last night.”
“I did work late,” Madeline tried lamely. She walked past her friend to switch on the coffeemaker. Suddenly she felt in dire need of fortification.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Ariel said suggestively. “You must have worked re-e-e-al late. Like all night. Like the kind of overtime one doesn’t punch a clock for. The kind that has, shall we say, its own rewards.” She threw back her head and laughed delightedly. “Dare I hope that you were working with someone? And that the someone in question was one tall, dark, gorgeous Hispanic with the nicest butt this side of the Mississippi?”
Madeline couldn’t prevent a laugh at her friend’s outrageousness. “You’re incorrigible. And snoopy. You don’t see me running over to your apartment and prying into your life all the time, do you?”
Ariel slipped onto a stool at the counter. “Nope. ‘Cause you know there’s nothing there to pry into. And believe me, friend, if I had a guy in my life who was one-tenth the man Cruz is, you wouldn’t need to snoop. I’d be over here gloating, providing you with an instant replay.”
The coffee was ready, and Madeline used some much-needed moments to busy herself pouring a mug for each of them. When she handed one to her friend, she slipped onto a stool next to her. “Well, don’t expect me to do the same. I’m afraid my nature has always been a bit more modest than yours.”
“Then it’s true!” Ariel crowed. Madeline winced and sipped at her coffee. “You and Cruz are an item. Glory hallelujah! I have to admit, dear, that I worried you’d never let go enough to get involved with any man again, not to mention one as delicious as your Cruz. May I congratulate you on your impeccable taste, at least?”
Madeline suppressed a smile. “You may,” she agreed primly, and then ruined it by joining in her friend’s laughter.
“I knew it,” Ariel remarked in a satisfied voice. “The first time I saw him I thought, now there’s a man who could thaw Madeline out and show her how great being a woman can feel.” She reached over and patted her friend’s hand. “I’m happy for you. He must be some kind of guy to breach all your defenses.”
“He’s… persistent,” Madeline conceded.
“Good for him. He’d have to be. But he must have other qualities to have put that color in your cheeks. C’mon, Madeline. Isn’t there anything else you’d like to tell Auntie Ariel?”
Madeline drank the rest of her coffee and rose. “Nope. And I really have to get ready for work.” She got up, and for once Ariel took the hint and rose also.
“All right, all right, I’m going,” she said mildly, allowing Madeline to herd her to the door. “Don’t push, I’ll go peacefully.” She turned after she’d opened the door, and tossed a parting remark over her shoulder. “Do him a favor and wear something that will knock his socks off. Although I’m sure you’ve already more than accomplished that particular task.”
“You have such a dirty mind,” Madeline scolded, shutting the door on her friend. She could hear Ariel’s departing laughter. Madeline threw a quick look at the clock. She stripped on the way to the bathroom, and a minute later stepped into the shower with an appreciative sigh. She stood under the cascading water with eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. It was hard to perform the mundane task without images of the last shower she’d taken, the one with Cruz, crowding into her mind. Cheeks growing warm again, she hurriedly finished, and dried herself off briskly.
Standing in front of her closet clad only in her underthings, she perused its contents disapprovingly. Cruz was right; she did own an inordinate number of tailored slacks and jackets. And none of them suited her current mood. She finally decided on black pleated slacks and a black-and-white short-sleeved sweater. When it came time to do her hair, she left it loose for once. She surveyed her reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. It was a little more flattering than the no-nonsense attire she usually favored to work in, and it was still functional. She realized she had actually followed Ariel’s advice, and she winced. That was definitely a habit she didn’t want to start.
She reentered the dining area just as the doorbell rang. She gave a sigh of exasperation as she went to answer it. Fully expecting it to be Ariel, she opened the door, saying, “You know, I really don’t need your help. I can dress my-” Her voice stopped short when she saw her father standing before her.
“Madeline,” he greeted her urbanely. “May I come in?”
She stepped back from the door mutely. If it had been possible, she thought numbly, to pick the one person she would least wish to see at this moment, it would have been Geoffrey Casey. She closed the door and turned to watch him. He was surveying her tiny apartment with what she knew would be disapproval. He’d been here only twice before, and had made no pains to hide his feelings about her home.
“I don’t know why you insist on living in this dark, cramped place when you know I’d buy you a house anywhere you’d like. A condominium, even. One in a much better neighborhood.”
She sighed. She did not need this. Not this morning, of all mornings. She could feel her earlier contentment fade away. But oddly enough, she also felt more capable than usual of dealing with her father without losing her temper. There was something to be said for having everything you never allowed yourself to hope for come true. It did remarkable things for one’s control.
“This place suits my needs,” she responded evenly, as she had every other time he’d brought it up. He knew very well that she’d never allow him to buy her any such thing. She hadn’t touched the trust fund that she’d gained control over on her twenty-fourth birthday. Although she might want to use it someday, right now her needs were simple. Too simple, according to her father.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked politely, forestalling any further discussion of her living arrangements.
“No, thank you,” he replied, walking into the living room and sitting on a chair. “I had some before I left the house this morning, and, of course, Mrs. Parks knows just how I take it.”
Madeline’s mouth twisted. After working for Casey for twenty-odd years, Mrs. Parks would know how to make the coffee, or she wouldn’t have lasted so long. Geoffrey Casey didn’t keep anyone around who couldn’t be of use to him in some way.
She sank into a chair facing him. “What can I do for you, Father?” she inquired. This early-morning visit was really quite out of character for him.
He brushed at a speck of lint on his perfectly creased Italian suit, and crossed his legs. “I decided that the only way to see you was to drop in unannounced,” he stated plainly. “As ill-bred as it is, I had no choice. You haven’t returned any of my phone calls.”
Guilt prickled through her at the truth of his words. She’d been avoiding him, and she couldn’t deny it. Although she’d done so to avoid any more stressful scenes, his words made her feel about twelve years old. The old inner war still waged within her; the instincts for self-preservation against the loyalty she felt she should owe to her own flesh and blood.
“The case has been taking up a lot of my time,” she said, damning the note of apology that entered her voice. “Things have been a little crazy. When the case winds down-”
“Ah, yes, the case. Why don’t we talk about that? And about Cruz Martinez.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize what had brought her father to her apartment. Her eyes narrowed. “You know I can’t discuss my investigations with you. We’ve had this conversation before.”
He went on as if he hadn’t heard. “Francis Vincent told me he ran into you and Martinez at a restaurant one night.”
And you called the moment you heard the news, Madeline thought darkly. But she forced herself to answer steadily, “That’s right.”
“Yes. So tell me, Madeline. What sort of investigating was going on after-hours over dinner?”
Though the words were delivered in his usual cultured voice, the suggestion in them was blatantly insulting.
“We were eating,” she said bluntly. “Does that need an explanation?”
“I know how you feel about my becoming involved in your work,” he said, surprising her. “But given our last conversation, I was quite concerned at your apparent friendliness with a suspected criminal. I hope you know what you’re doing.” His tone said clearly that he doubted that very much, and Madeline ground her teeth silently.
“As a matter of fact, I know exactly what I’m doing,” she replied, with only a hint of her irritation showing in her voice. “And I’ve managed to do my job quite adequately for ten years without your help, though I’ve yet to convince you of that.”
“Well, sadly enough, it appears to me that you haven’t done your job. At least, not yet. I’ve heard from a very good source that there’s been no evidence linking any of the five detectives suspected in this gun supply.”
Her mouth dropped at his announcement, and then she shook her head in disbelief. “You are unbelievable, do you know that?” Her earlier certainty that she could, for once, deal with him calmly was vanishing. “When are you going to stick to running the city and stay out of police matters! Whoever is feeding you this information is a disgrace to the force. And you’re a disgrace for asking about it!”
“I’m worried about you,” he stated firmly. “The longer this case drags on, the more time you have to make a mistake. I won’t be comfortable until Martinez is behind bars.”
She stared at him, wondering when she’d last been as furious as she was now. “Then you will no doubt have to wait a very long time to be comfortable,” she burst out in frustration. “Because Cruz Martinez is not going to be behind bars. Not now, or later.”
His mouth tightened. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Madeline.”
“No, you don’t,” she contradicted. “Your only wish is for things to turn out the way you want them. Although why you have developed such a need to see a man you don’t even know go to prison, I can’t quite figure out. But I’ve found absolutely no evidence to connect Cruz to the gun supply. None.”
After a pregnant pause, he asked, “How can you be sure Martinez is not involved?”
“I’m trained to find evidence and to interpret it, Father. And whether you believe it or not, I happen to be good at my job. Captain Brewer is satisfied with my investigation. That’s all that matters.”
Her father rose to stride to the window, pushing aside a curtain to stare out at the skyline. After a moment he murmured, “You’re sure, of course, that you haven’t missed anything, out of your own need to see this man proven innocent.” He turned to look pointedly at her.
Her jaw dropped at his audacity. “You are unbelievable,” she whispered, shaking her head. “And you never change. Never. You’re like a broken record, playing over the same irritating scratch.”
“I’m just expressing an interest because I don’t want to see you do any further damage to your career. Another mistake like Dennis Belding would destroy any credibility you could ever hope to achieve.”
What he really meant, of course, was that he was concerned about any damage to his own political career should his daughter’s name be clouded once more. She was hurt at his lack of faith, but it wasn’t a shattering pain. Perhaps, she thought bitterly, she’d finally been cured of needing approval from this man, because she had approval from someone who accepted her just the way she was. And Cruz’s respect meant far more to her than her father’s ever could. She felt a return to her earlier calm. Geoffrey Casey didn’t have the power to hurt her that he’d once had.
“Well,” he said in disapproval, turning from the window, “I only came here for your own good. As usual, you choose to misunderstand my intentions.” Noting her rigid features, he added in a more conciliatory tone, “And if you say that your dinner with him that night was just a necessary evil, a step in your investigation of him, then I’ll accept your word on that. It’s just that I don’t like the thought of your spending any more time with Martinez than necessary. He really isn’t our kind.” He walked past her toward the door. Her next words brought him to a halt.
“I didn’t say that.”
She noted the ramrod stiffness of his backbone as the meaning of her words became clear, and she knew she’d made a mistake. If only he’d left before firing off his last parting shot, she would have been able to hold her tongue. But she wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that of Cruz, to think that way about him. From the sound of his words, he felt her being around her partner was liable to taint her in some way. And it was time her father learned that the end of this case wasn’t going to spell the end of her relationship with Cruz Martinez. Her father had long ago lost the ability to control her life, and he needed to realize that.
He turned slowly to face her again. “Would you care to clarify those words?”
“Certainly.” She rose, too, and they faced each other more like two adversaries than like father and daughter. “What I mean is, if I choose to see Cruz after this investigation, I will do so. My decision has nothing to do with you, nor do you have anything to say about it.”
“I can assure you, Madeline,” he said tightly, “that I will find quite a bit to say about it.”
“No doubt,” she replied dryly. “But I’m not interested in hearing it. So we’ll have to agree to disagree.”
His face flushed deep red, more reaction than she could remember seeing in it for a very long time. “You will regret this decision,” he warned her ominously.
“I don’t think so,” she said softly. “But if I do, at least it will be my decision.”
After a long look, her father turned and walked swiftly from her apartment.
As the door closed behind him, Madeline sank into a chair, heaving a sigh.
She’d regretted almost immediately the words she’d spoken to her father, if not the fury that had fueled them. He lit the match to the fuse of her temper so effortlessly, and he absolutely never learned. But he’d also left her with something to think about, something that she’d been worrying about since last night.
Her father had an enviable pipeline of information that was usually quite accurate. She was beginning to become more concerned with the possibility that somehow Cruz, too, would get hold of the information that he’d been the subject of an investigation. She had no doubt as to how he would react to that. And to her, should he find out the whole story.
She had to keep the information from him; she had no choice. Although she was convinced she’d find nothing to link him to the gun suppliers, she had a job to fulfill. And her investigation wasn’t completed. There was no way she could give him that information, even if she’d wanted to.
But after the case was over, perhaps after another detective had been proven guilty, what then? She pondered the question. When she was free to come clean with Cruz, would she risk that? Would she take the chance of telling him and possibly destroy any hope of a future with him?
Could she take the chance of his finding out anyway, from someone else?
It was a question that plagued her constantly. It lurked in her subconscious, coloring every moment of each day. It made the time she spent with Cruz almost bittersweet, as if each instant with him would be the last. Which, of course, it could be if she made the wrong choice. She knew she was being a coward, putting off making a decision about what she would do, but still she procrastinated, while she gathered all the memories she could with him.
For the next few days she and Cruz spent most of their time sitting in the unmarked car, on a street with a clear view of the Andersen warehouse. Although there was plenty of activity there each day, Valdez wasn’t spotted. They watched all day, and took turns sleeping at night. Then they drove home, showered and changed before driving back and starting all over again.
By the third night Madeline was close to losing it. There was no position in the car that was comfortable any longer, and even though it was her turn to sleep, she was having very little success at it. Her supper of sandwiches and chips seemed a distant memory, and being hungry worsened her mood.
She glared across the car at Cruz. Though he was awake and watchful, he was slouched into a position that would have had her back screaming for days. The knowledge that he was totally comfortable made her want to give him a kick.
“Go to sleep. You should know by now that I’m not going to do the noble thing and take your watch, too. It’ll be your turn in an hour and a half, and believe me, I’ll be asleep in a minute.” His voice cut across the darkness.
“Yeah, you look pretty tense right now,” she muttered, changing position once again.
She could sense the smile in his voice when he spoke again. “It’s all in the attitude, Maddy, my girl. You’ve got to take every second to relax when you can. I’d give you a back rub to help out, but I don’t trust myself to stop there.”
Neither did she. And she knew she wouldn’t be able to trust herself, either. She remained firmly on her side of the seat while they watched, and he did the same. The only time they touched was to pass each other something to eat, and even that casual brushing was enough to set her skin afire. So she kept her distance and prayed that he would do likewise. Because if he was of a mind to pass away the hours of the night in a much more pleasurable manner, she wasn’t sure she would have the strength to deny him.
It was partly frustrated desire that made it difficult to sleep, but mainly it was her inability to stop thinking. Through the long hours of the night it was difficult to keep troublesome thoughts at bay, and the choice she had to make was at the forefront of those. Not that it was much of a decision anymore. As she stared out into the night, where physical objects were shrouded in shadows and darkness, her thoughts had a way of becoming crystal clear, as if in contrast. She realized that when the time came that the case was wrapped up, she would have to tell Cruz about her task of investigating him. She used the time to try to practice what she would say when that day finally came, to memorize the words that would be the least hurtful, the ones that would make him understand. She was coming to the realization that those words didn’t exist.
Her morose thoughts were interrupted by his whisper. “Look up there. A car is coming this way.”
Madeline looked past him and saw a pair of headlights approaching them. She made a grab for the night vision binoculars on the seat between them, but he beat her to them. Raising them, he watched silently for long seconds before saying, “Well, lookee, lookee. Tonight just might be our lucky night.” She heard the click as he switched off the interior light so it wouldn’t shine when he opened the door.
Madeline craned her neck to see what had him so fascinated. The car that had driven past them turned the corner and pulled to a stop in front of the warehouse. Her attention was diverted, however, when he started opening his door.
“Where are you going?” she whispered.
“I’m going closer to see if I recognize anybody.”
Madeline slid across the seat toward him. “Not without me, you aren’t.”
She closed the door quietly behind her and followed his crouched figure across the street. They stopped behind a utility shed, directly across from the warehouse.
The car was a large luxury automobile. Madeline couldn’t imagine Valdez driving such a car, and disappointedly wondered if this, too, would be a dead end. That thought was driven from her mind when, in the next instant, a shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness and approached the automobile. Reaching the passenger side, the man opened the door and got in. She gasped when the interior light went on and revealed the identities of the two inside. The man sliding into the car was none other than Jose Valdez.
The driver was Stephen Andersen.
Neither Cruz nor Madeline spoke a word, peering intently into the darkness. They were unable to see anything until about ten minutes later, when the passenger side of the car opened again. As close to the water as they were, the voices floated to them with crystal precision.
“I’ll meet you about midnight. And for pity’s sake be careful until then. With all the cops asking questions about you, I’m beginning to think you’re a real liability.”
“Wouldn’t be no cops hanging around if you hadn’t wanted me to ice Stover. Told ya he wasn’t no threat. He would have been too scared to talk, anyway.”
“So you said.” Even if she hadn’t seen his face, Madeline would have recognized Andersen’s cultured tones. “Well, he’s not talking now, either. And somehow I feel a lot safer this way.”
Valdez snorted. “Don’t know what you’re worried about, anyway. The cops aren’t sniffing around you.”
“And I don’t want them to, either. If you do your job the way you should, I won’t have to worry, and you’ll continue to get paid well.”
“I’ll be here.”
Valdez slammed the door and started across the street. The car took off. Cruz whispered, “Stay put. I’m going to follow Valdez.” He disappeared into the shadows before Madeline could protest. And protest she would have. She had no intention of meekly waiting for him to return.
She drew her gun and headed for a closer inspection of the warehouse. A high mesh fence, topped by barbed wire, surrounded the building. She found the gate locked. She examined the perimeter but found no other entrance. She also found no sign of a night watchman. In the entire time they had been across the street, and during her explorations, she’d estimate they’d spent thirty minutes. But she’d yet to see a security guard making rounds, and her mind was furiously speculating on what that meant.
She made her way back to the front of the building. The stars didn’t provide much light, and once she stumbled over a crack in the concrete. She’d just gotten to the front gate again when a figure stepped out of the shadows in front of her and ordered, “Don’t move.”
It was amazing that in the darkness where little was visible she had no difficulty at all discerning that she was looking down the barrel of a gun. Her eyes tore away from that sight and looked beyond it.
“Maddy?”
A burst of air escaped her then, the first time she’d realized she’d been holding her breath. “Martinez, you idiot, of course it’s me.”
He holstered his gun. “There’s no ‘of course’ about it. I told you to stay put.”
“You don’t give me orders, Detective,” she said scathingly. “I didn’t hear a discussion about the wisdom of your taking off after Valdez.”
They started back toward the car, still arguing. “Listen, do you want to know what happened to Valdez, or not?”
She was silent for an instant. “Well, since you don’t have him in tow, I assume you lost him.”
“Not exactly.” They reached the car then and got in. “From what we overheard, it sounded like Andersen is in this up to his gelled hair.”
“I can’t think of any other reason he’d be meeting with Valdez,” Madeline agreed. “When I recognized him, everything seemed to jump into place.”
“And hearing them talk about offing Stover didn’t hurt any.”
“Andersen has to be the one bringing in the guns. I don’t know why we didn’t think about this before. They moved their manufacturing overseas, so maybe that’s where the pipeline starts.”
“A shipment comes in from overseas, gets unloaded and stored in the warehouse. We already know that the guns are being sold from the docks.”
Madeline interjected, “The guns must be unassembled, pieces interspersed with the real cargo in each crate.”
“This is it. It has to be,” said Cruz. He looked across the seat at her. “But can we make it stick? The only concrete things we have to go on right now are that we saw the two of them together, and that we overheard about Stover.”
“Something big is going to be breaking soon, that was apparent from their conversation,” she said.
“I’m sure of it.” After a moment of silence he added, “That’s why I let Valdez go.”
“What do you mean, you let him go?” she demanded, startled.
“I didn’t lose him. I followed him down the street to a big truck he had parked there. I took down the license plate, but didn’t confront him. He got in and drove away.” His teeth flashed brightly in the darkness. “I say we go for the big cigar. We wait this thing out and catch them with the guns in their oily little hands. What do you say?”
She never hesitated. “Let’s go for it.”
He laughed softly. “Somehow I knew you’d say that. We’ll play the odds. It may be a risk to wait, but sometimes taking a risk can have a big payoff. You know what I mean?”
The words hit her with another meaning. Did she know anything about taking a risk? She’d had intimate experience with it in the past several days. “Yes, believe it or not, Cruz, I know exactly what you mean.”
He glanced at her. “May as well head out. One thing we’re sure of is that nothing more will be going on here tonight.”
“We can be fairly certain that nothing will happen until the next shipment comes in.”
“Which will be any day now. We’ll be back tomorrow to watch. Want to go home for a while?”
Home. The word hit her and a sense of yearning she’d never before felt mushroomed in her stomach. Yes, she’d very much like to go home with him. She wanted to take the time to store up a few more memories, against the time when memories might be the only thing left to her.
“What do you say, Maddy?” His voice interrupted her thoughts.
“It’s a very attractive offer,” she said, trying to respond normally.
“Is that all that’s attractive to you?” His voice was wheedling.
Madeline couldn’t prevent a smile. “Well, you didn’t shoot me back there. I’ve always found that an attractive quality in a man.”
“Stick with me, kid,” he joked. “I’m full of great qualities.”
Just a few more days, she promised herself as they drove down the dark streets of the city. Surely the case would be over then. And then she would be able to tell him the whole story. And somehow she’d make him understand.
In the meantime, she had one more night to cherish.
The next morning Cruz dropped her off at her apartment so she could get her car, and then they headed to district headquarters for a while. They needed to check out the license number of the truck Valdez was driving. They also needed to take the precaution of picking up some bulletproof vests.
When Madeline entered the building she made her way to Cruz’s desk. He was nowhere in sight, but Connor McLain was leaning against the edge of the desk, sipping from a mug of coffee.
She slowed at the sight of him. She knew how close Cruz and Connor were, but she’d never felt totally comfortable in the other man’s presence. Those light green eyes were too piercing, and when they were trained on her, as they were now, she felt stripped to the soul.
“Lieutenant McLain.” She acknowledged him carefully. “I don’t see Cruz. Is he around?”
He indicated the closed door of his office. “He had a visitor. I let them use my office for a few minutes.”
“Oh.” She looked pensively at the closed door he was indicating, then shrugged and turned back to him. “Did Cruz tell you what we found out last night?”
“A little.” He paused to drink some more coffee. “Sounds like it’ll all be going down in the next couple of days.”
“We think so.”
“I took a phone call for him yesterday from Lieutenant Niles,” he informed her. “He left a message that they didn’t match Cantoney’s prints to any found in Stover’s apartment.”
“Well, if things pan out the way we think they will,” she answered optimistically, “we should have the supplier anyway. And hopefully soon.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Connor’s office door being opened. When her father stepped out, Madeline couldn’t have been more shocked.
“Madeline, dear, I don’t have time to talk right now, but I have taken care of the matter we discussed the other day. I’ll be calling you very soon.” Her father gave a slight wave and headed toward the exit.
It took long moments for the seemingly incongruous sight of her father at the headquarters to congeal into some sort of sense. And then, when comprehension dawned, it was accompanied by a feeling of impending doom. Without another word she walked away from Connor and toward his office. She had to literally force herself to step over the threshold.
The expression on Cruz’s face told her exactly what the two men had been talking about.
“Is it true?” His words, tight and direct, seemed to slice the air between them.
“Cruz…” she began helplessly.
“No.” His hand came up to stem whatever words she had been about to say. “Just answer me. Is… it… true?”
The waves of guilt threatened to completely engulf her. This was what she’d feared all along. That she would someday see this look on his face, see this coldness in his eyes, hear the distrust in his voice. Would it have been different if she’d told him herself when she’d been able? She would most certainly have explained it better than her father had. He’d undoubtedly come here for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc.
She’d never know the answer to her question now. And the knowledge that she’d most likely brought about this scene with her unwise outburst to her father didn’t make it any easier. For Geoffrey Casey had come here today only because she’d convinced him that the threat of Cruz in her life was a reality.
Madeline made herself face his implacable visage, steeling herself not to flinch at the look of betrayal in his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered hopelessly.
That one soft word seemed to rock him for an instant. That was the sum total of his reaction. He tossed her one of the vests he was holding, turned and started walking out the door.
She caught his arm as he went by her. “Cruz, wait.”
That dark gaze-the one that she could remember hot with passion, sharp with intent, soft with tenderness-now looked as though it could cut through ice. He looked at her, then pointedly at his arm. Reading his message as clearly as if it had been etched in stone, she dropped her hand. “Please, wait,” she said again, aware of the pleading note in her voice. “I can imagine what my father told you, but knowing him, I’m sure he got a twisted pleasure in breaking this news in the most hurtful way possible.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.” She flinched at the caustic note in his tone. “There’s something about truth that, no matter how painful, is easier to take than a lie.”
“I never lied to you,” she said in a low tone.
His eyebrows arched. “No? Maybe you didn’t, in your mind. Somehow it seems a bit devious to me to sleep with a man you’re working to convict, but then, that’s semantics for you. It’s not actually a lie, no, it’s more… hmm. What would you call it? A complete lack of morals, perhaps?”
“I didn’t choose this assignment. And you weren’t the only detective being investigated.”
His smile held a hint of cruelty, and absolutely no amusement. “Then you’ve been busier than I thought.”
Desperation tinged her tone. “Internal Affairs had reason to believe that one of the detectives assigned to the gun investigations was involved in the supply side. Each of them was assigned a partner from I.A.”
“How many of us?” he snapped.
“Five. All from different districts.”
“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense.” He laughed shortly. “Which one of us was it?”
She hesitated. “We don’t know,” she finally answered. “There hasn’t been any luck so far linking any of the detectives to the gun supply.”
“Great,” he said, giving her a hard stare. “That means I haven’t been cleared, either, have I?” When she didn’t answer, he repeated sharply, “Have I?”
Her eyes were clear when she looked into his. “It’s not you.”
He held her gaze. “How do you know?”
“I just do. I didn’t have anything that cleared you to my captain, but when he asked me, I told him what I thought. You’re not the one.” Encouraged by his silence, she continued tentatively, “It all got twisted up, Cruz. Trying to do my job, trying to keep my feelings for you separate from the investigation…”
“And we know just how deep those feelings ran,” he interjected sarcastically. “You’re a remarkable woman, you really are. Sleep with a man and dig up all the dirt you can on him at the same time. I’ll say one thing for you, lady, you blindsided me. I never suspected your little plan for a moment.”
“There was no plan. I fell in love with you!” she blurted out desperately. The words hung in the air, shocking both of them. She’d never admitted their truth, not even to herself. But she couldn’t deny the feeling. Nor could she have chosen a worse time to voice it.
His jaw clenched. “Cheap shot, Maddy. Do the words `too little, too late’ mean anything to you?”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered. “Let me explain. You don’t know how it was.”
“I think I can guess.” His twisted smile held no amusement. “Don’t forget, I’ve been screwed by Internal Affairs before. Although your methods were a bit more literal, the end result is the same.”