Doing It Right (15 page)

That left a possible pregnancy as their only concern. And God help him, he fervently hoped she
was
pregnant. He wanted lots of children with Kara. He wanted a built-in entrance to her life, forever. If she wouldn’t marry him—and she would, eventually, dammit—being the mother of his child was a good start toward lifelong intimacy.

He noticed Kara was looking at him curiously and, he noticed, didn’t even glance around the
corner before taking them down the hallway. “What are you thinking about? You’re uncharacteristically silent.”

“I was hoping I’d gotten you pregnant.”

She blushed and he almost laughed. She had the oddest—and most refreshing—reactions sometimes. “I don’t think so. I’m not—I never—I mean, I haven’t had sex in years, so I don’t use anything long-term, like the Pill. But it’s not the right time of the month for me.” A short pause, then she blurted, “Why do you want me to be pregnant?”

He reached out and took her hand. “I think all the time about the kids we’ll have,” he said simply. “And if you have my baby, that would keep you in my life forever.”

Her eyes were huge. “Wouldn’t you be afraid of … of how I’d raise him? Or her?”

He almost laughed, but saw her expression—she was deadly serious—and choked it back. “Uh, yeah, let’s think about the despicable habits you could pass on—honor, integrity, self-defense, championing the weak … Yeah, poor little tyke would be a real scumbag with those handicaps.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept staring at him. Finally she muttered, “You’re too good to be true. This has to end before I realize it.” Before he could reply—and what a reply it would have been—she added, “In case you were wondering, I’m not—I mean, I don’t have any—I’m all, uh … “

“Disease free? Me, too,” he said cheerfully. Then, hopefully, “Are you absolutely positive you
can’t be pregnant right now?” She rolled her eyes at him and he sighed. “Then I guess I’d better pick up some condoms on the way home.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said quietly.

“What won’t be necessary?” He tightened his grip on her hand. “I’m not letting you run away from me again and that’s final. I’m in your life, blondie, and that’s it. If we were in high school I’d give you my class ring. Hell, if you’d let me, I’d pick up an engagement ring on the way home. Or you could break in and steal one …”

Then he heard the sirens. And saw that Kara wasn’t surprised, was actually leading them back to the main area of the warehouse.

She didn’t answer any of his questions, just determinedly tugged him along behind her as she unerringly found her way back to the room where they’d nearly been killed. It would have taken Jared about a week to find that room again, but Kara had them there in five minutes.

And he absolutely could
not
figure out how she’d known the cops were on the way. It explained her sudden relaxation, how she shifted from urgently wanting to leave to urgently wanting to hang around. But it didn’t explain why she was bringing them entirely too close to the cops.

“Are you going to make sure they arrest Carlotti?” he whispered, then realized he could have spoken in a normal tone of voice, because she threw open the door and marched right up to the knot of cops clustered around the handcuffed bad guys. “What are you doing?”

“Good evening, officers,” she said politely. “Mr. Carlotti has put a contract on Dr. Dean’s life. This is Dr. Dean,” she added, prying Jared’s fingers away from her hand one by one. “I myself can testify to several attempted assaults, and attempted murder.”

“What are you
doing
?” Jared practically shrieked.

“Oh-ho,” one of the cops said, grinning at Kara.

“What are
you
looking at, flatfoot?” Jared growled.

“Also,” Kara continued loudly, “I need to be charged with assaulting a police officer. Your undercover cop is up on the third floor outside the accounting offices. He’s mildly concussed. You’ll know him because there’s a pail right next to him,” she added helpfully.

“Undercover …” Jared trailed off in horror. The bad guy he’d bashed was a
cop
? Kara had known? And was going to take the heat for it? “But I was the one who—oooof!” He hadn’t been fast enough to avoid her elbow to his solar plexus, which effectively robbed him of enough air to speak for the better part of a minute. He bent forward, gasping.

“That’s enough of that,” another cop said sternly. Kara obediently stepped away from Jared, her hands in the air. “You’re saying you have knowledge of a contracted murder? And felonies? And you admit to assaulting—”

“Yes, yes, can we get going, please?” she said impatiently. “Dr. Dean’s not going to be out of breath much longer. Oh! I almost forgot. My given name is Kara Jayne Jones, aka Robbing Hood, aka the
Avenging Angel. Just the other night, I hacked into the Freibur Mansion. I can tell you exactly how I did it. Maybe,” she continued politely as another police officer deftly cuffed her hands behind her back, “you want to give the D.A. a call when we get to the station house?”

“We’ll straighten all that out later, ma’am. I’m going to read you your rights now, okay?”

“It’s really not necessary. I have the right to remain silent,” she recited obediently, “and if I give up that right, anything I say may be used against me in a court of law. Which is unlikely to ever happen, because the D.A. is so overworked, he’ll go for a plea bargain. Also, I have the right to an attorney. If I don’t have the funds for one—and I don’t, by the way, I give most of my money to charities—the court will appoint one for me. He or she will also be woefully overworked and will push for a plea. Which suits me fine. It’s really for the best, Jared. Stop looking at me like that,” she added sharply. “I’ve been selfish to avoid testifying, just because I didn’t want to go to jail. You’re right, I am a coward. But if I quit trying to hide my past, I can keep you safe, put Carlotti away forever, and stop running.” She shrugged and smiled. “It’s a no-brainer, really.”

He sucked in a breath and straightened painfully. His upper abdomen was throbbing dully. What had she poked him with, a stick of dynamite? “Can’t …” he wheezed. “Can’t let you … do this … for me.”

“Be reasonable,” she advised, as a cop, who’d been
listening intently while trying not to show it, started to lead her away. “What’s a little jail time—okay, a lot of jail time—if it means you’re safe?” she continued over one shoulder. “I can do time standing on my head, Jared. It’s a lot easier than being out in the real world. Think about it. My rent will never go up!” She shouted that last as the door slammed and he could hear her laughing—laughing!—as she was led to a police car.

“No!” he screamed, lunging after her, only to be caught by the shoulder and hauled back. He turned furiously and threw a punch before he could stop himself. The police officer jerked his head to the side; Jared’s fist whistled harmlessly past the cop’s ear. The other one pulled a nightstick and smacked Jared in the shoulder with it. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get his attention.

“Bad idea, my friend,” the cop advised softly. “You don’t strike us as the average street punk, but even uptown guys know better than to try to clock a cop.”

Not this uptown guy,
Jared thought furiously.
I’ve already bashed one cop around tonight, boys, don’t push your luck.
Then he shouted, “But it’s me! It’s my fault! I’m the one who—” He struggled to go after Kara again, but both cops locked their arms around him and held him back, with some difficulty.

“We gotta take your statement anyway, sir,” the other one said. “You can come down and straighten everything out.” His voice was brisk and oddly soothing, a voice trained to calm individuals and control crowds. “And you want to do that, right?”

“I can’t let them keep her, put her in a cage …”

“Then we better get going, huh? Now, we can arrest you for assault and haul you in that way, or you gonna be a good boy and follow us in your car? You do have a car here, right? Okay. What’s it going to be?”

“Trouble,” he said shortly. “That’s what it’s going to be.” He shrugged free of their restraining arms and started for the door. “I’ll see you boys there.”

“You will, of course, obey all city traffic ordinances on the way,” the cop said, and his partner laughed.

S
he couldn’t even wave good-bye, he thought darkly, pulling into the police station parking lot, thanks to the goddamned handcuffs.

For that matter, he hadn’t even known her last name until she’d announced it to the cops.
Announced
it! God!

She must have been planning this all along,
he thought, stomping up the steps. She had known, somehow, that one of the bad guys was a cop. Let him bash the guy around. Planned to take the heat for it, turn herself in, testify against Carlotti. And his contribution to this plan was to blithely announce he needed to buy condoms. He almost groaned thinking about it.

A police dog, a husky German shepherd, snarled at him on his way to the desk. Jared snarled back and the dog blinked, surprised. A busy night at the 110th precinct, Dr. Jared Dean found himself marching past various drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes,
and burglars, all protesting to different police officers, in various tones of voice, that they had been framed.

He stopped before the desk sergeant; miraculously, there was no line. “It was all me!” he proclaimed loudly to the room. “I’m the guy who hit the cop with the pail. I request—no, I
demand
that you arrest me in Kara’s place. And let me post bail for her! Right now!”

The desk sergeant, an attractive blonde with eyes almost as pretty as Kara’s, eyed him with no change of expression, then said, “Fine, thanks. And you?”

Jared held out his hands, wrists together. “Arrest me! Book me, Danno! I am guilty, I am scum, I am—”

“Guilty scum?”

“But first, how much to bail Kara Jayne Jones out?”

“Have a seat, I’ll look into this for you.”

“No, you have to arrest me, throw the book at me, handcuff me, lock me—”

“Yes, yes, plenty of time for that. Have. A. Seat.”

Cowed—not so much by the woman’s tone of voice as her completely unruffled manner—Jared did. He passed the time by spot-diagnosing the many people in the room, as well as fantasizing about all the things he would say to Kara once he had his hands on her. Thirty-five minutes had passed when the desk sergeant crooked a finger at him. Jared was in front of her in three bounds.

“First, no charges have been filed against Ms. Jones.”

“What?” Jared could feel his mouth pop open. “But that’s imposs—I mean, great! So when are they taking me away?”

“They aren’t. Yet.” The sergeant—Ristau, the nametag read—gave him a level look and continued. “And a good thing for you, because you can’t be arrested yourself
and
post bail for somebody. Officer Carl isn’t pressing charges because he really can’t. He didn’t identify himself to you and your girlfriend as a police officer, you apparently honestly believed he was a danger to you, you were obviously
not
with Carlotti, and the officer in question doesn’t even have a concussion.”

“But I hit him so many times …” Jared heard himself and shut up.

Sergeant Ristau looked smug. “Well, you must be a real lightweight, pal, because they aren’t even keeping him overnight for observation. Says he doesn’t even have a headache.”

In a flash, Jared saw it—it would be much more an embarrassment to the police officer if they
did
file charges, than if not. How to explain how a mild-mannered—usually—physician got the better of a trained officer of the law? Better to ignore it and hope the situation went away.

“So, your ladyfriend is free to go … for now.”

“Really?” Jared was dazzled. He had no idea the police were so pleasant and flexible. None of the officers he’d run into tonight had even raised
their voices, much less tried to slap him around or taken off their pants to show off their butts. It wasn’t much like
NYPD Blue
.

Ristau lowered her voice. “Some of the detectives know her—know about her, anyway. And we all heard about the Freibur mansion and how that went down. That bust is going to result in a lot of gold shields. Your friend’s a popular girl around here.”

“She’s my fiancée,” he bragged, slinging an elbow against her desk and casually leaning closer. His relief was so great, he felt like swooning. “We’re going to have babies.”

“That’s nice. Anyway, you and Ms. Jones can go, but she’s got a meeting at nine-thirty A.M. tomorrow with the district attorney. She gave her ‘word of honor’ that she’d show and I guess the detectives believe her, because she’s free to go. They’re gonna finish processing her and you can pick her up. If she doesn’t show,” Ristau added, gently shoving Jared’s elbow off her desk, “a warrant will be issued for her arrest.”

Another warrant, you mean,
he thought, but didn’t say aloud. He had trouble believing this was happening—no assault charges and even though the cops
knew
who she was, they were letting her go? He had no idea the real world worked this way. Law enforcement was much more pleasant than medicine.

He thanked Sergeant Ristau, then found his way to Holding to wait while they let Kara go. He was allowed in to where the cells were and wasn’t sure
what to expect. Scenes from
Chained Heat
and other women-in-cages movies flashed through his mind, beautiful women dominated by handsome guards, lush female prisoners turning to each other for sensual comfort … he shook his head. The movies couldn’t be completely true.

They weren’t. Instead, he saw no more than a half dozen women in the cell with Kara. She was showing a prostitute how to radically extend her pimp’s index finger the next time he laid a hand on her. “Bend it
waaaaaaay
back,” she was saying, gently demonstrating, “and whenever he moves, or even says something you don’t like, bend it back a little further. You can actually walk him where you need him to go. But it’ll probably only work once—he’ll never let you near his fingers after that.”

Three other women were poring over last month’s issue of the
Glamour
Do’s and Dont’s and another one sat by herself in a corner and gazed at Kara with what could only be described as heroine worship. The last woman was sleeping peacefully on the top bunk. Except for the bars, it looked more like a teacher’s lounge than a hotbed of hardened female criminals.