Conviction of the Heart (17 page)

Nick found his schedule over the next few weeks constituted a barrier to time with Suzanne. His days were easier due to his problem children spending time with the vice squad, but end of year also meant budget crunch and late nights choosing what hours, personnel, and programs he could do without.

He had made a few efforts to contact her, but they’d all been rebuffed by an ever-present voicemail system. His personal schedule didn’t allow him the kind of time he’d like to have to pursue her more aggressively. How could he get this relationship back on track?

His answer came in an opportunity from the police department itself. After a thirty-year career, Division chief Raymond Sandoval would celebrate his well-deserved retirement with a banquet. Most of the brass around the county would attend, along with political officials, family and friends. It was the kind of event that most business people chose to get their faces out in the social circle. There would also be so many people that Suzanne wouldn’t have to feel she was on the spot with him. A perfect occasion to see Suzanne, and to be seen with her.

All the same, he didn’t bother to call first before he drove to her office over a lunch hour to ask her to accompany him. She shouldn’t have a chance to say no before he could use his best bad-boy grin to persuade her. When he arrived, the secretary grinned and waved him in. He stuck his head inside Suzanne’s office door. “Do you have a moment?”

Her eyes widened and she got slowly to her feet, her face unwelcoming. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a favor to ask.” He stepped in and closed the door.

She came out from behind the desk, a vision in a soft knit sweater in shades of brown and rust and a slim pair of brown slacks. “I’m not sure I can help you with the city budget, or your personnel issues.”

He held up a hand to cut her off. “I’ve got plenty of aspirin and antacids for that.”

“I don’t envy you at all. So you’re not here to borrow a calculator. What can I do for you?” She sat down on one of her love seats and gestured for Nick to do the same.

He cleared his throat as he shrugged off his leather jacket and sat down. Small sofas didn’t make sense to him. A good sofa was at least six feet long and let a man put his feet up. This was…abominably short. He sat forward, on the edge of the seat. Humor seemed the best approach. “I wondered if you’re a fan of rubber chicken.”

Her eyebrow went up.

“Ray Sandoval’s retiring, and I need to make an appearance at the shindig. Banquet. Whatever.”

She continued to study him, intent, like a scientist seeing some new sort of cell through a microscope.

“It’s probably not really rubber chicken. They booked the Renaissance. Menu there’s pretty good.”

“A whole evening with a room full of cops and liquor. Now there’s a recipe for fun.” Her green eyes warmed slightly from cut emerald. He had a chance then. He felt his shoulders relax, and even smiled.

“Isn’t it? Look, I hate these things, but I’ve got to show up. I thought maybe since we hadn’t had much time together, at least we’d get free dinner and a couple of drinks and then we could slip out and find something more interesting to do.”

“More interesting?” Speculation in her eyes. And a flash of heat, quickly concealed.
Oh, yes. That would be interesting indeed.
“Who did you say might attend?”

“There’s an open invitation to anyone in the police ranks, but usually it’s the higher-ups, couple of county officials, someone to make a proclamation, you know, Ray Sandoval Day, or whatever.”

“And when is it?” She went to her desk, pulling a thick datebook from her left-side drawer.

“About a week from now. November 20th. The Saturday before Thanksgiving.” When he said “Thanksgiving,” she bit her lip and closed the book with a snap. “Something wrong?”

“Wrong? No.” She returned to her seat near him. “Looks like the Saturday is clear. I’m sure it would fulfill some civic duty or other for me to attend.”

He ignored the lack of warmth in her tone. If fate saw a way, perhaps that heat he’d glimpsed could be encouraged into a small fire. “Then it’s a date. Good. One worry off the plate.”

“I’m sure we both have plenty of those.”

“Still fighting with Councilman Morgan?” He debated mentioning Greg Morgan’s visits to the precinct, but decided she had enough to worry about on that score. He’d protect her from further harassment. If he could.

“That’s between me and my client, don’t you think?”

Whatever he’d done, she clearly hadn’t forgiven him yet.
“Of course. I was just…” He straightened his shoulders. “Maybe when the budget’s done, I can take you and the girls to a Steelers game.”

“Maybe.” Her tone was less than enthusiastic.

He studied her for clues. Was she unhappy about attending a sports event, or worried about protecting her girls?
How much safer could they be than with a thoroughly-trained police detective who carries a gun?
“If you don’t think I’m a threat,” he prodded.

Her eyes widened but she didn’t offer a response.

“Any more emails? Pictures?” It still burned him that she hadn’t let him follow up on the packet she’d received. It’s not like he could make her do it. He had to let this one go until she was ready. With any luck, Morgan would back off. Not much percentage for him in escalating this fight, as a public figure, was there? The councilman seemed to have plenty in his private life he didn’t need brought into the light.

“Nothing.”

Her voice was firm, but she didn’t look him in the eye. Damn it, the woman was stubborn! He hadn’t done anything wrong. Why wouldn’t she let him in?

He took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “All right. If you need help with that, you know who to call.”

She nodded.

A moment of silence stretched out between them, then they both came to their feet, not looking at each other. “Guess we should get back to work,” Suzanne said.

She stood close enough that he could smell her perfume, something spicy and layered. Memories of the night they spent together flooding in. He reached for her without thinking, pulling her close to him, her head against his chest. He half expected her to shove him away, but she didn’t. She didn’t put her arms around him, either. It was enough for him. His lips curved into a smile, and he closed his eyes, wanting the moment to last an eternity, but a few beats later, Suzanne’s secretary knocked discreetly on the door frame.

“Sorry, boss, but your one o’clock is here.”

“Thank you, Donna,” Suzanne stepped away from the tall detective, her eyes a little softer, and a smile twitching at her lips. “I’ll see you next week.”

“You bet.” Feeling a little like he was on top of the world, Nick grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He didn’t look back, but he did give Donna a little salute.

The encounter kept his attitude sunny the entire afternoon, even through the hot glares of Clara Malron, the only one of the three sergeants not on temp duty with Vice. The chain of command being what it was, though, there wasn’t much besides glaring that she could do. Nick could set his mind in more positive directions.

****

Suzanne usually didn’t like those kinds of events, the grip-and-grin retirement gift presentations, the false line-up of speakers who dragged out something nice to say about the man or woman who was stepping down. It often seemed to her like the slimier the retiree was, the more flowery the accolades.

She’d met Sandoval a couple of times over the years she’d practiced in Pittsburgh, and didn’t have much respect for him. At the scene of a domestic disturbance, if he found a bruise on the woman’s cheek, while the man ranted that the woman had attacked him first, Sandoval would tell the woman if she wanted to press charges, he’d have to take them both in, and the kids would go to foster care. Not a solution in Suzanne’s book.
Way to support victims of domestic violence, guys.

He wasn’t the only one who used this method to avoid dealing with conflict, of course, which was one reason Suzanne didn’t have much use for the police generally. She didn’t have any more to do with them than she had to.

Which made her attraction to Nick that much more confusing.

So why bother going with him?

She’d thought about Nick’s words, his perceived criticism regarding her girls and the emails, and finally realized he hadn’t been intruding on her prerogative at all. His attitude had less to do with his opinion of her parenting and more to do with that narrow-eyed paranoid cop outlook that every one of them seemed to have. He had spoken out because he really cared. That should be a good thing.

It
was
a good thing.

His invitation was certainly an effort to make up for what he’d done, and she made a conscious decision to accept it in that spirit. Secretly she was glad he’d come to see her. She missed him. Not just the physical, though she found herself remembering the touch of his strong hands when she was achingly alone in her big bed at night. More than that, she missed the challenge of his conversation, the rapport they seemed to have. He was educated without being overbearing like some of her colleagues, with a strong sense of right and wrong, and a generous helping of care and concern. He wasn’t a “typical” cop, and he wasn’t a “typical” man in her view. He deserved another chance.

Her hope was that he could read her as well as she believed he could, and that he’d realize the children were off-limits. For now.

In the meantime, Suzanne and Nick could continue to explore the feelings they held for each other.

Besides, despite most people’s idea of the so-called glamorous life of a big-city attorney, in reality, it had been a year, at least, since she’d attended a fancy party like this. She wasn’t fussy about frills in her everyday appearance, but she liked getting all dressed up as much as any other girl. She’d had the slinky black dress for several years—that standard cocktail-party standby, but a few pieces of thick gold jewelry from a shop on the South Side, and a sweet updo of her hair made it seem new again. It might not be Maddie Morgan’s expensive suit, but it felt a little like armor.

Preparing to face a room full of police and government officials, she felt that she needed that boost, a bit of distance. Even though she worked in the system, she disagreed with plenty that went on there. The police and the sometimes heartless people who worked for the county, all of whom were ‘”just doing their jobs,” often cost her clients, in time and money.

Nick showed up at her office in full dress uniform, sharp and official, gold trim emphasizing the cuffs and hat. She felt compelled to salute, which provoked a grin.

“No need to be formal, Miz Taylor. No one here but us chickens.” He entered the office, crossed to her side and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You look spectacular.”

Now that was pure validation. “This old thing?” she said, fully sinking into the ironic tone of her voice. “But seriously…thanks.”

She meant it for the compliment, and for even more, for being persistent, for understanding her quirks. His warm smile seemed to encompass acceptance of all those underpinnings. She picked up the small black sequined purse she used for evenings out, very different from the big bag she usually carried half her life in. Just enough for a small card case, her phone, a lipstick, her keys and a few other items.

“Shall we?”

“Into the lion’s den?” he asked, showing her he understood very well her feelings about his brotherhood.

A sheepish smile came to her lips. “Something like that.”

“I’ll protect you, miss. To serve and protect. That’s the motto, right?”

“So they say.” She took his proffered arm, and they walked down the stairs, into the cool night air.

During the brief ride from Carson Street to the Marriott, Suzanne studied an uncharacteristically silent Nick, wondering what had him so preoccupied. Perhaps she’d shaken his confidence, and he didn’t know what subjects might be safe. Maybe it was something at work beyond the vagaries of the annual budget. Just as well she’d kept him out of her problems with Greg Morgan. The stalking, at least, had stopped, after he’d come into the open with his threats. Maybe now that he’d crowed his little bantam announcement, he’d feel self-justified and knock off his juvenile games.

Once he’d parked the truck in the Marriott’s designated lot, Nick became more attentive. Whatever he wrestled with, he apparently intended to set it aside for the next few hours so they could share the time together. “Have you ever met Ray Sandoval?” he asked. “He’s an interesting guy. Served in the Marines during Vietnam, then came home to Pittsburgh and changed uniforms…” Nick launched into a lengthy accounting of the man, more than Suzanne had ever wanted to know about the retiring Captain, his teacher wife, and his son at Annapolis. Inside, she recognized the county manager, a few other county officials of middle-range authority, a number of State Police uniforms, and an assortment of officers from around Allegheny County, even a few from up in Indiana Township. Nick didn’t stop to make introductions but swept her in, straight to the bar, where he ordered a scotch for himself and a glass of white wine per Suzanne’s request.

The room was large and festively decorated with looping bands of silver ribbon stuck on nearly every flat surface. Each of the forty-plus tables had a fat centerpiece with silver flowers, plastic fruit and ribbon, multiple place settings and sparkling glassware. A raised dais and table in the front was clearly reserved for the guest of honor and the other brass. Sipping her wine, she hoped Nick was permitted to sit out of the way somewhere, where they’d be “just part of the crowd,” and could spend the evening relatively undisturbed.

Nick waved down an older man in uniform, and Suzanne was pleasantly surprised to find a familiar face. Suzanne hadn’t seen detective Ferguson for years. His family had lived next to hers when she was an adolescent. He and Suzanne’s father had been great fishing buddies, and he’d always had a teasing word for Paul’s red-haired daughter. He’d aged so since then—but of course she had, too. As Nick formally presented her to his former partner, Hank Ferguson, the balding man’s eyes narrowed, then he broke out in a smile.