Make Me Melt (9 page)

Eddie’s gaze flicked from Jason to the photo; then he picked it up to study it more closely. “This is that judge that got shot, right?” He flicked the photo back onto the counter. “Wish I could say I’m sorry, but I got two men on death row because of that fucker. Is the judge dead?”

Jason ignored the question. “What do you know about the shooting?”

Eddie’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Why would I know anything about it? Are you suggesting I had something to do with it?” He snorted. “If you knew anything about me, you’d know that ain’t how I operate.”

Jason leaned over the counter and put his hand over the judge’s photo, sliding it back. “I know exactly how you operate, Eddie. I was your first recruit.”

“Do I know you?” He stared at Jason for a moment, his eyes narrowing, before he gave a bark of astonished laughter. “Jesus Christ! Is that you, Cooper?”

In an instant, his entire demeanor changed. He came around the counter, his hands stretched out. “Jesus, man, you just vanished from the face of the fucking earth, and now here you are, all dressed up like a fucking cop. How you been, man?”

Jason didn’t shake the other man’s hand, but he didn’t object when Eddie gave him a swift, hard embrace. He reeked of some expensive cologne that stayed in Jason’s nostrils even after they stepped apart.

“I’ve been okay,” he replied stiffly. “But Judge Banks is a friend of mine. Somebody shot him on his own front steps, and I intend to find out who.”

Eddie frowned, staring at Jason with an affronted expression. “And you’re pointing the finger at me? Man, I am highly offended by that. It really grieves me to have you believe I would do something so cold-blooded.”

“Not you, Eddie. Your boys. Like you said, Judge Banks sent two of your men to death row. That’s gotta hurt.”

Eddie sniffed and looked away. “Yeah. One of them is my baby brother. But whatever you think of me, you know I got a code of honor. I don’t kill cops, women or kids.” He gave Jason a sly smile. “So you see, you’re safe—I protect the weak.”

Jason ignored the insult. “What do you hear on the street? If it wasn’t your boys, you must know who was responsible.”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t hear anything, at least not about the judge. But I saw on the news that he has a real pretty daughter.” His expression grew sly. “I saw you on the news, too, all protective and shit, carrying her out of the house. I’ll bet that uniform gets you all kinds of nice perks, huh? You banging the judge’s daughter?”

Jason had to put a choke hold on his gut reaction to Eddie’s crude suggestion. He wanted to smash the other’s man mouth, but instead he ignored the gibe and kept his expression carefully neutral.

He had tried to shield Caroline from the television crew that had lined the street in front of her father’s Sea Cliff house, but there’d been no way to avoid the cameras after she’d fainted in his arms. He’d had to carry her back to the waiting SUV, and the reporters had eaten it up, capturing the footage on film. The last thing Jason wanted was Eddie Green expressing any kind of interest in Caroline. He regretted that Eddie knew she even existed. But he realized the damage had been done, and all he could do now was downplay it and hopefully divert Green’s interest elsewhere.

“What about Sanchez’s men?” he asked. “I hear they’ve moved into your neighborhood. That can’t be good for business.”

He watched as Eddie’s hand curled into a fist, and then he abruptly turned around and busied himself cooking breakfast. “Yeah,” he threw over his shoulder. “What about Sanchez’s men? Why don’t you ask them about it? Them sons of bitches been bringing down the real estate value around here. Someone needs to put a stop to their illegal activities. I hope you intend to pay them a visit while you’re in the area.”

“Maybe.”

“You want me to find out if they was involved?” he asked.

Jason knew what that would entail, and he didn’t want anyone getting hurt. Eddie’s form of interrogation could be deadly. “No, thanks. I’ve got it covered.”

“Sure. Whatever.” He turned around and leaned back against the counter. “So look at you. The last time I saw you, you were just a kid. You got picked up for breaking and entering, right?”

“Car theft, actually.”

“And now you’re a damned cop. Unbelievable. You never came back after they hauled you in. What happened to you? My boys said you went to juvie.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Jason didn’t want to talk about himself, especially not to Eddie. After the car-jacking incident, he’d ended up in Judge Banks’s courtroom. The sentencing had involved sending him to a residential school for at-risk youth. At first he’d been resistant, but it hadn’t been long before he’d understood that he’d been given a second chance. Judge Banks had made that possible.

“You still see your old man? I hear he’s living over on Griffith, at one of them treatment centers. He must be so proud of you.”

Jason hadn’t seen his father in over twelve years. The last he knew, his father had been unemployed, subsisting on welfare and had been in and out of rehab.

“I don’t see my father anymore,” he said shortly. “Thanks for your time.”

“Yeah, you take care.” Eddie’s mouth twisted in a semblance of a smile. “It was good seeing you, man. I mean that sincerely. And I’m glad you’ve done good. I mean, who knows where you’d be if you’d hung with me, right?” He gestured toward his surroundings. “Maybe if things had gone differently—if you hadn’t been pinched jacking that car—you’d be the one living here.”

Jason withdrew a card from his wallet and handed it to the gang leader. “Here’s my number.” He paused. “I know you have no reason to want to help me, but—”

“It’s cool,” Eddie said, taking the card. “I’ll keep my ears open.”

He slid Jason’s badge back toward him, and then scooped up his two guns. “My boys will walk you out. Sure hate for anything to happen to a U.S. marshal right outside my front door.”

Jason arched an eyebrow and fastened his badge to his belt, then followed Eddie’s men back to his SUV. It took a moment before he turned on the ignition, however. His heart was pounding, and his old associate’s words reverberated in his head.

If things had gone differently...

Jason squeezed the bridge of his nose, unwilling to picture himself like Eddie. He pushed aside the unwelcome memories that his visit had stirred up, reminding himself that he’d chosen a different path. He and the gang leader were like opposite sides of the same coin; they’d been punched from the same piece of metal but had been stamped with different dies.

After a moment, Jason switched on the ignition. Glancing up at the top floor of the warehouse, he could see Eddie watching him through the windows. Thrusting the SUV into gear, he slowly drove away.

As he drove away from the seedy neighborhood, he couldn’t prevent himself from taking a detour down Griffith Street. He didn’t want to see his father; he didn’t want to see the squalor and poverty in which he was surely living. He told himself again that his old man had made his own choices and was ultimately responsible for where he was in life. But another part of him wanted to make sure that he was okay.

He drove slowly down Griffith Street, until he came to the treatment center that Eddie had mentioned. It was a modest two-story structure with an enormous, wraparound porch. Several people sat outside, watching the traffic go by. There were two old, frail-looking men sitting in chairs, smoking cigarettes. As Jason drove past, he thought one of them might be his father. But without stopping for a closer look, he couldn’t be certain.

He continued down the road, telling himself he couldn’t stop. Nothing good would come of seeing him face-to-face. It had taken him years to set aside the anger and resentment he’d held toward his old man. Even now, knowing that addiction was a disease and that his father was as much a victim as he was, he didn’t trust himself to speak to Daryl Cooper. He didn’t need that kind of disappointment in his life.

Instead, he scribbled down the name of the center, knowing that he’d make a phone call later on to determine if his father was staying there. Then he’d probably provide them with a substantial donation in which to better feed and clothe their clients. He knew the gesture would only go so far in assuaging his own guilt, but he had no desire to establish any closer reunion with his father. He had nothing to say to him, and the man had lost the right to be his father a long, long time ago. Jason would ensure he was taken care of, out of respect for his grandmother’s memory, but that was it.

He didn’t know if Eddie had told him the truth when he’d said he had nothing to do with the shooting. But he wouldn’t take him at his word. Guys like Green had learned to survive through deception. If he hadn’t been involved, Jason knew he’d piqued Eddie’s interest in the case. He also knew that the gang leader liked to perceive himself as having connections, especially if those connections were with law enforcement. He might even be thinking that if he did Jason a solid, he could one day call in the favor.

Glancing at his watch, he saw he’d been gone for almost two hours. He wished now that he’d kept the room at the Fairmont. After visiting Hunters Point, he felt like he needed a shower. The smell of Eddie’s cologne still clung to him. In a moment of panic, he angled the rearview mirror so that he could see his own reflection. Outwardly, he looked exactly the same, but Jason didn’t feel reassured. Anyone who looked closely enough would see him for what he really was.

9

C
AROLINE
LOOKED
UP
as Jason entered the hospital room. She had to resist the urge to fly into his arms, she was so happy to see him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Caroline nodded. “Yes. Did Deputy Black tell you the good news?” She looked back at her father. “He came out of the coma this afternoon and responded to the doctors.”

Jason came to stand beside her, gently squeezing her shoulder as they both looked down at the judge. “That’s great.”

Reaching up, Caroline covered his hand with her own. “He’s not out of the woods yet, and he still has a long way to go, but the doctors are optimistic that he didn’t suffer any serious brain damage.”

She heard Jason exhale a long sigh of relief. More than anything, she wanted him to wrap her in his arms and tell her that everything would be okay, but she knew that he wouldn’t display any overt affection toward her in public, at least not while he was officially assigned to protect her. So she contented herself with this small contact and leaned back against him.

“He’s the strongest man I know,” Jason murmured in her ear. “If anyone can pull through, he can.”

“I agree,” she said softly. “They sedated him, but the doctors think they can move him out of intensive care in a day or so.”

“They didn’t remove his ventilator,” Jason observed.

“No.” Caroline knew he was hoping that the judge would be able to identify the shooter, enabling the FBI to make an arrest. “He only opened his eyes briefly, and he was able to squeeze the doctor’s hand on command. But he won’t be able to speak until the ventilator is removed. Then they gave him something for the pain, which pretty much knocked him out again.”

“Okay. Maybe in a day or two, he’ll be able to give us an indication of who did this to him.”

“I hope so,” she said. “But the doctors cautioned us that he may not have any memories of that night.”

They’d told Caroline and Agent Black that it wasn’t uncommon for victims to have no recollection of a traumatic event.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait,” Jason said.

“You went out to Hunters Point,” she ventured. “Did you see Eddie Green?”

Caroline thought he might deny that he’d gone out to his old neighborhood to confront the criminal, but he didn’t. Instead, he drew her away from the bedside.

“I saw Eddie,” he confirmed. “He said he had nothing to do with the shooting, but there’s no way to really know. The ballistics came back on the bullets, but we don’t have a weapon. The FBI said they only have a partial footprint from the flower bed, and there’s not enough detail to know if it belongs to the gardener or somebody else.”

“So, essentially, we still don’t know anything,” Caroline said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“Hey,” Jason said and pulled her into his arms for a brief, hard hug. “Your dad is improving. Let’s focus on that for now, okay?”

She nodded, absorbing his warmth and strength. He was right; she needed to focus on the positive. When he finally drew away, she missed the contact.

“If you’re satisfied that your father is okay for a couple of hours, there’s something I want to do with you this afternoon,” he said carefully.

Her imagination immediately filled with erotic images of the two of them. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the previous night and acknowledged that she desperately wanted to be alone with Jason again. To make love to him again.

“What is it?” Her voice came out a little breathless.

“I want to take you to a shooting range.”

Whatever Caroline had expected, it wasn’t that. She gave a bark of disbelieving laughter. “Why? If you think I’m going to even touch a gun, never mind shoot it, you’re wrong.”

“I’d feel better if you knew how to handle a weapon,” he said seriously.

Caroline stared at him. “You’re not kidding.”

“There’s a range not far from here. We’ll spend three hours or so there today, and again tomorrow.”

Something in his expression caused a frisson of uneasiness to feather its way along her spine. “Do you really think I’m in danger?”

“As I said before, the likelihood that anyone is going to target you is slim, but I’m not taking any chances. I want you familiar with how to handle a gun.”

Caroline drew in a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay, fine. But I didn’t really dress for a shooting range. Am I okay in what I’m wearing?”

What she was wearing was a sleeveless top in a clingy material that left her arms and shoulders bare. She’d paired it with skinny jeans and a pair of flat shoes. The outfit wasn’t anything that anyone could call sexy, but when she looked at Jason, his eyes reflected masculine appreciation.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “What you’re wearing is great.”

Feeling pleased and a little flushed by his obvious admiration, Caroline scooped up her handbag, then returned briefly to her father’s bedside. “Since he’s heavily sedated, the doctors said he won’t regain consciousness again for a while. So I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

The indoor shooting range was less than a thirty-minute drive from the hospital, and, although Caroline felt completely out of her element, Jason clearly knew what he was doing. Inside, he registered them both and procured three different handguns and enough ammunition to take down a small army. Her eyes widened when she saw the small arsenal that he carried.

“Three guns?” she asked in disbelief. “I can only shoot one at a time.”

“Each one is a little different,” he explained. “I want to see which one you’re most comfortable handling, and that’s the one I’ll get for you to keep.”

Then he led Caroline to a small room, where they watched an instruction video about guns and the safe handling of them.

“Those are the basics,” Jason said when the video ended. “Now we’ll go to the range, and you can test your skills.”

The range consisted of a series of cubicles that overlooked long, enclosed alleys. At the end of each alley was a target. From where she stood, the target looked ridiculously far away. She’d never be able to hit it.

She stood quietly while Jason fitted her with a pair of ear protectors and safety glasses.

“Safety first,” he said, after he donned his own protective gear. He laid the guns and the ammunition out in front of her. “Let’s start with the smallest gun.”

He demonstrated how the gun worked, letting her handle it and having her load and unload the rounds from the chamber until he was satisfied she could do it without fumbling.

“When you pick up your gun,” he cautioned, “always keep your finger on the outside of the trigger guard, here. Always keep your gun angled downward, and never point it at anyone unless you mean business.”

Caroline did as he instructed, unprepared when he came to stand directly behind her. He was so close that her back was pressed against his brawny chest. “Okay,” he said, his face close to hers. “Hold your weapon in the firing-ready position, like this.”

His arms came around her, and his hands closed over hers, showing her how to curl her fingers securely around the grip.

“Good,” he approved. “Now, hold the gun tightly. When your hand begins to shake, relax your grip just a bit.”

Caroline bit her lip, focusing on his instructions. “Like this?”

“Perfect. Take your other hand and hold it like this.” He adjusted her left hand around the other side of the gun, aligning her thumbs to point downrange. “Your left hand is used to keep the gun steady. Don’t grip the gun with it.”

Caroline hitched in a breath. She was finding it difficult to concentrate when she could feel his hard body pressed up against her. He’d disapprove of her wayward thoughts, so she kept quiet, but she couldn’t keep her imagination from conjuring up images of just what he could be doing while he was standing behind her.

“Now, make sure both your thumbs are clear of the hammer,” he said, indicating the lever above her fingers. “When this thing pops back, it could hurt you if your hands aren’t properly positioned.”

Caroline nodded to let him know she understood.

“It’s important to stand in the proper firing stance,” he said. He stepped briefly away from her to demonstrate the stance. “Like this.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” she replied.

Jason stood behind her again, and when she planted her feet, he used his own foot to widen her stance a bit more. “That’s good,” he said, and then he put one hand on her stomach and the other on her back and eased her forward. “You should be leaning forward just a bit,” he explained. “Like this, knees slightly bent, right arm locked.”

This new position put her butt into direct contact with his hips, although he seemed not to notice. He was so intent on ensuring she had the correct stance. There was definitely something wrong with her, she decided, since all she could seem to think about was sex. She could smell him. His arms were around her, and his breath was warm on her neck.

“You’re doing great,” he said. “Now you’re going to sight the target. The two sights should be level and centered. Focus on the center of the target. Good job. Now insert your finger into the trigger guard. Try to time your firing with your breathing. Take a breath, exhale halfway and then slowly squeeze the trigger.”

Caroline did as he instructed, startled by the first shot and unprepared for the recoil. She staggered a little, but Jason was right there, steadying her.

Yanking off her ear protectors, she whirled around, jubilant. Jason’s eyes widened, and he reached for the weapon, redirecting it away from his midsection and back toward downrange.

“Whoa! Always know where your gun is aimed,” he said, but he grinned at her. “Good job. Let’s clear the rounds and do it again.”

Her hand flew to her mouth as she realized she had swung the gun around and had pointed it directly at him. “Oh, my God,” she breathed in horror. “I’m sorry!”

“Beginner’s mistake.” He shrugged. “My fault. Ready to go again?”

Caroline saw that her hands were shaking, but she nodded and turned determinedly back toward the range, repositioning her earmuffs and goggles before she picked up the gun. But her mind was reeling with the knowledge that she could easily have shot Jason. She adjusted her stance and tried to align her sights, but all she could see was Jason, lying on the ground...bleeding.

Suddenly, his arms were around her, his fingers prying the weapon from hands that visibly shook. He laid the gun down and turned her around to face him. His expression was filled with concern, and he quickly pulled her ear protectors and goggles off.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She shook her head and swallowed convulsively, unable to dispel the image she’d had of him. “I almost killed you.”

He looked confused, and then understanding dawned. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t. You made a small error, but nothing happened. Look at me...I’m fine.”

Seeing her distress, he laughed softly and pulled her into his arms. “Okay, come here. It’s okay, we don’t have to do this. I’m probably being overprotective anyway. Nothing is going to happen to you, because I’m going to be right here.”

Caroline dragged in a deep breath and pulled free of his embrace. “No, I want to finish. You might not always be here, and I want to be able to take care of myself.”

Slowly, Jason smiled, and she saw the grudging admiration in his eyes. “Okay, good. Let’s continue.”

She put her goggles and ear protectors back on and turned determinedly back to the weapons. This time, she wouldn’t let his proximity distract her. She knew how serious this was, and as she fixed her sights on the distant target, she made herself remember the blood on her father’s front porch. She thought again of how frail and vulnerable he’d looked in the hospital and imagined the target was the shooter, coming back to finish the job. She fired off six shots in quick succession. When she had emptied the chamber, she set the gun down and removed the headpiece.

“Great job,” Jason said. When she turned to look at him, he was grinning broadly. “Let’s take a closer look.”

He pressed a small button on the wall, and they watched as the target slid toward them. Even before it reached the window where they stood, she could see she had hit the center. Jason pulled the paper free from the clips, and they examined it together.

“You got four hits,” he said. “All of them center mass.”

Caroline studied the tiny holes. They were all within the targeted circles. “So I did good?”

“You did better than good—you did great.”

“I want to go again,” she said, a little astonished at the thrill of power she felt. “I don’t want to stop until I hit the mark.”

“Not everyone is able to hit the dead center,” he cautioned. “But we can come back as many times as you want until you can.”

“I’m going to do it today.”

He didn’t argue, simply nodded and replaced the target with a fresh sheet. They spent another hour at the range, during which Caroline practiced using each of the weapons that Jason had selected. By the end of the session, her shoulders and arms ached with the effort of handling the guns and she had a knot of tension between her eyes.

She watched as Jason gathered up the guns, handling them with an ease and familiarity that bespoke years of experience. She waited while he turned the weapons and equipment back in, and then they walked outside and climbed into the SUV.

She watched as he put the vehicle into gear, admiring the shape and strength of his hands. As if sensing her scrutiny, he glanced over at her and smiled and then reached over to cover her hand with his.

“You did great,” he said. “Don’t worry that you couldn’t hit dead center. Like I said, sometimes it takes years to achieve that kind of marksmanship. What you did today was incredible, and I certainly wouldn’t want you pointing a weapon at me.”

His words brought back that horrific moment when she had inadvertently swung the gun in his direction. “Don’t remind me.” She cringed. “God, when I think that I could have shot you.”

“But you didn’t,” he said. “We’ll come back again, until handling a weapon becomes second nature, okay? We’ll get you a weapon of your own before the end of the week, along with a license to carry.”