Deadly Force (14 page)

Cruz nodded. “She seems pretty mature for her age.”

The waitress came and set down the food. Cruz spread a liberal amount of butter on his roll.

“Her parents think
it’s sick.”

Cruz took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “You’ll win them over.”

He wanted to tell his partner the truth, but he’d made Claire promise that everybody would hear the same story. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do,” Sam said, just as his cell phone buzzed. He pulled it off his belt. “It’s my brother,” he said. “Hey, Jake,” he answered.

“Can you meet me?”

It was the same question he’d asked Cruz earlier. “Where are you?”

“At your house.”

Sam could feel his chest tighten. “Is it Mom? Dad?”

“No, you idiot. It’s you. Get your ass home. Now.”

Sam heard the phone disconnect. Cruz looked at him, his eyes filled with laughter. “Sorry,” he said. “Couldn’t help but overhear some of that. I always knew I liked your brother.”

Sam pulled
some money out of his pocket and shoved it toward Cruz. “Here. I’ll see you later.”

It took him ten minutes to get home. Jake sat on the front steps, drinking a cup of coffee and eating a doughnut. “You give cops a bad name,” Sam said, hugging his brother.

“Sit down, Sam,” Jake said, scooting over on the cement.

“Where’s Joanna and Maggie?”

“Home. Probably cuddled up on the
couch.”

Sam fought a smile. His brother had actually said the word
cuddled.
“So what brings you to Chicago, Jake?”

His brother lifted his face to the sky. “I don’t know. Nice fall day. Warm sunshine. Lots of pretty leaves on the trees.” He shifted and looked at Sam. “Oh, yeah. I hear you’re getting married.”

His parents must have called Jake immediately after hanging up with Sam.
Jake must have been on the road in minutes. Sam couldn’t tell anything by his brother’s expression. Couldn’t tell if he thought it was a great idea or if it was the most absurd thing he’d heard lately. Sam hated that because what Jake thought mattered.

“She’s a beautiful woman,” Sam said.

Jake nodded. “That’s always a plus.”

“She works out. She likes baseball. She even likes Nightmare.”
Sam held up fingers, ticking off Claire’s attributes.

“Very helpful,” Jake said.

“Good work ethic. Easy to talk to.”

More nods from Jake.

“You don’t look convinced,” Sam said.

Jake pulled back. “I didn’t know I had to be convinced. But if that’s the case, I guess I’m not hearing anything that makes me think she’s special.”

Sam stood up. “She’s special. She’s got more
special in her little finger than most people do in their whole body.” He waved his hand, dismissing Jake. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” How could his brother be so damn dense?

Jake smiled and patted the step. “Sit down, Sam.”

Sam stared at him. Then he sat down hard, the concrete jarring his tailbone. He put his head in his hands. “I’m so far gone I couldn’t even tell
you were yanking my chain.”

“Don’t worry,” Jake said kindly. “The ability to think and reason comes back in time. If it’s any consolation, it affects women the same way. Or so Joanna told me. Well, after the fact,” he added drily.

Did Claire feel the same way? Like she couldn’t catch her breath, like she couldn’t remember what it was like before they were together. Did she feel dizzy
and hot and kind of sick to her stomach?

Was she scared?

Jake stood up and wadded up the plastic paper that had been around his doughnut. He stuffed the garbage into his now-empty coffee cup. “I’ve got to go. I don’t like being this far away from Joanna and Maggie.”

“You drove two hundred miles to sit on my steps for five minutes?”

“I drove two hundred miles to make sure.”

“Make sure of what?”

“Just to make sure. Take care, Sam. Give Maggie’s almost Aunt Claire a hug for us.”

Chapter Fourteen

When Claire arrived at her old apartment Saturday night, Nadine was already there, unpacking groceries. The place smelled like new paint and there was an empty spot where the couch had sat. The warm October wind blew through the open windows, causing the pale green curtains to flutter.

Claire dropped her purse on the table. Then she hugged her friend. “I missed
you,” she said.

“Same here, roomie,” Nadine said. She was eating an apple. “I stopped to get us some fresh food. Thanks for cleaning out the fridge.”

Claire spied a bag of chips on the counter and a jar of salsa. There was an open bottle of red wine and Nadine had already poured a glass. Claire opened the cupboard and got another glass. She poured her own wine and took a sip.

It
felt good to get away from the office. Getting that note had changed everything. Every time she interacted with someone, she walked away thinking,
Is it you? Do you not like me?

And on top of that, the incessant chatter about the awards dinner was getting on her nerves. She wondered if it was affecting Pete Mission the same way. He’d been short-tempered and didn’t look as if he’d been sleeping
well. She’d worked up the nerve to ask him what was wrong and he’d practically bitten her head off.
Nothing was wrong. He was just busy.

Well, okay. She’d gotten the message and gotten the heck out of his space. She thought it was truly possible that he might win the design contest—he was very talented. She hoped so because maybe that would be enough to change his mood.

“Rough day?”
Nadine asked.

“Does it show?”

“Maybe a little.”

Claire wasn’t surprised. Nadine had been her best friend forever. They’d seen each other happy and sad and every emotion in between. That’s what made it so difficult to lie to her. But she was going to. Sam had been insistent. Nobody gets the truth.

“There’s something you need to know,” Claire said. She drummed her nails on the
counter. “Sam asked me to marry him.”

Nadine dropped her apple. It rolled across the floor until it hit the wall. “And you said yes?”

“I did.”

Nadine opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “You don’t think it’s just a little creepy that he was engaged to your sister, too?”

“That was eleven years ago, Nadine.”

“Yeah, but are you ever really going to know when
he’s with you if he wouldn’t rather be with her?”

“She’s dead, Nadine.” She could hear the flatness in her own voice. “He can’t be with her.”

Nadine chewed on her thumbnail. “I’m sorry, Claire. You just surprised me. Congratulations. When’s the big day?”

“Sometime in January. We haven’t picked a date yet.”

“Do your parents know?”

“We told them this morning. They took it
about as well as could be expected.”

“So...” Nadine looked around the apartment. “I guess that means I need to find a new roommate?”

“Not right away,” Claire assured her. If she wasn’t careful she wasn’t going to have any place to live. A month from now she could wind up with nothing. No Sam, no apartment, nothing but a big cardboard box to keep her warm at night. “I’m going back to
Sam’s tonight. I have to do some shopping tomorrow for this event I have Monday night, but I’ll move back in Tuesday. I promise. The wedding isn’t for months. You and I’ll have lots more time together.”

“What event?” Nadine asked, ignoring the rest of Claire’s comments.

“The Chicago Advertising Association’s Design-of-the-Year contest. I’m a finalist. I guess I forgot to tell you.”

Nadine shook her head. “Wow. You’ve really got the magic touch, don’t you? Everything always works out for you.”

Claire shrugged, unsure of what to say. Nadine’s tone was odd but then again, she’d probably surprised the heck out of her with the marriage announcement, so no wonder things seemed a little off. “It’s a nice honor,” she said.

“Is there a prize?”

“The winner gets
fifteen thousand dollars.”

Nadine raised her wineglass. “Here’s hoping you win.”

* * *

S
HE
TOOK
A
CAB
from the apartment to Sam’s house. She would normally have walked it, but Sam had called her this afternoon and said he’d pick her up. She’d argued that was unnecessary. He’d relented and asked if she would at least take a cab. She’d agreed.

If he asked her to stand on her
head in the corner, she’d probably give it the old college try.

“Hi,” she said. She smiled at Sam, who was standing in the hallway. His hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it. She bent down and patted Nightmare. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“I get a regular hi and he gets a
hi, sweetheart
. This is so unfair.”

She kissed him. Soundly. When she pulled back, she tilted her
head. “Still think you’re behind?”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with how the game is going.” He paused. “So you told Nadine about us?”

“I did. She was a little surprised. She’ll probably be less surprised in a month when I tell her we’ve called it off.”

He took a step back, almost stumbling over the dog.

“Sam, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said.

She didn’t believe that.
He looked upset. “Did something happen at work today? Do you know something that you aren’t telling me?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “You and I like a lot of the same things. Sports. Spaghetti. Dogs.”

He was acting so odd. “What are you saying, Sam?”

He yanked at his tie, loosening it. “What I’m saying is that maybe we really should get married. After all,
we’re pretty compatible.”

Compatible?

People who were compatible carpooled. They didn’t get married. Her parents were compatible. Yuck. “Sam,” she said, her heart feeling heavy, “that’s not enough.”

He took a step forward, she took one back until his big body crowded her up against the door. “We’re good in bed,” he said, his tone challenging.

She couldn’t argue that. And when
he put his hands under her sweater, she didn’t want to. And when he bent his head and kissed her, she thought he might be determined to convince her just how good compatible could be.

She’d be an easy mark. Like the car buyer who convinced herself that she couldn’t live without a particular make or model all before the salesman ever stuck his head out the showroom door. “I’m hungry,” she
said.

He frowned at her. “Really?” he asked.

She nodded.

He grabbed his keys and billfold off the hall table. “Come on, then. I know just where to take you.”

He took her to a place called Patrick Murphy’s and introduced her to Mr. Murphy. The man ruffled Sam’s hair, kissed her on the cheek and said something that sounded like
the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Sam cheeks got pink but he didn’t say anything. Mr. Murphy brought them a bottle of wine and suggested the special, chicken parmesan with a side of spaghetti. He smiled broadly when they both promptly closed their menus.

“Anything interesting happen at work today?” Sam asked. He buttered a piece of bread and handed it to her.

“No. Everyone is pretty excited about the awards banquet.”

“Monday, right?”

“Yes.” She chewed, savoring the mix of sourdough and sweet butter.

He rubbed the cloth napkin between his index finger and thumb. “I don’t want to worry you, but I do want you to be really aware of what’s going on at the event. Cruz and I haven’t been able to put all the pieces together, but there is the possibility that you’ve been the target all along. If that’s
true, an event where you’re going to be publicly recognized has the potential for danger.”

She put down her bread. There would be over two hundred people in attendance. She could not, would not put others in harm’s way. “I won’t go.”

He held up a hand. “No, that’s not a good idea. It probably wouldn’t make a difference at this point anyway. If the bad guy is tracking you, then he expects
you to be there. If you’re not, then he might just be pissed enough that he’ll do something anyway.”

The waiter delivered their plates. It looked delicious, but now she wasn’t sure she could eat. “So, there’s no good solution?”

“Go. Enjoy. Cruz and I’ll both be there as well as other undercover officers. No one is going to be harmed. And maybe we can end this thing.” He picked up his
fork. “Now, eat. Patrick will be over in a few minutes and you’re going to hurt his feelings if you’re not a hundred percent vested in enjoying his culinary talents.”

She picked up her fork. “I don’t want anybody getting hurt because of me. I especially don’t want you getting hurt, Sam. I couldn’t bear it.”

He reached over and snagged her free hand. “Nobody is going to get hurt. I promise.”

* * *

O
N
S
UNDAY
, C
LAIRE
and Sam slept late. Then they cooked breakfast together. They were just finishing the dishes when Sam’s cell phone rang. He listened, said he’d be there in ten minutes and hung up.

“Armed robbery,” he said apologetically. “I have to go in. I’m sorry, I wanted to spend the day with you.”

“Don’t worry. I have to buy a dress for tomorrow night. The only
other dress I have is the one I wore when Cruz and I went out.”

“You look amazing in that dress, but there’s no way, nohow, that you’re wearing that dress.”

She smiled at him. “Then I have to go shopping.”

“I’m not comfortable with you going alone,” Sam said.

“I’ll see if Hannah is busy.” She picked up her cell phone and in minutes had arranged to meet Hannah at the corner
of Michigan and Ontario.

“Take a cab,” Sam said. “Please.”

She nodded and kissed him goodbye.

She found a dress in the third store. It was a dark plum satin. The color flattered her skin tone and there was some simple beading on the full skirt that caught the light, making the dress sparkle when she turned.

“You have to get it,” Hannah said.

It was sleeveless, so she bought
a smoky-gray wrap for her shoulders. She went to the shoe store next and found strappy sandals that had a heel high enough that she’d be looking most people in the eye.

She was feeling pretty good about herself as she and Hannah hurried down the sidewalk. Five blocks away from Sam’s house, Hannah broke off and headed to her apartment. Claire kept walking. It was a gorgeous fall day. She got
another block and was waiting for the light to change when she was shoved from behind, right into the path of an oncoming car.

* * *

S
AM
WAS
ELBOW
-
DEEP
in paperwork when his desk phone rang. He wanted to ignore it. In addition to the newest case, he and Cruz already had over two dozen open investigations. They didn’t need anything else.

He picked it up. “Vernelli,” he said.

“Sam, it’s Tom Ames. Something’s happened.”

He was talking fast and Sam’s heart started to race. “What’s wrong? Is Claire okay?”

“I don’t know. I was riding my bike home. I saw a bunch of emergency lights up ahead and when I got there, I realized it was Claire. She was hit by a car.”

His head started to whirl, to conjure up every bad accident scene he’d ever pulled up to. “How badly
is she hurt?”

“I don’t know. I only got to talk to her for a minute. She said she was okay, but she was already in the ambulance and they seemed to be in a big hurry to get her to United Methodist.”

“I’m on my way,” Sam said, his heart in his throat.