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Authors: Becky Riker

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BOOK: Without Compromise
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CHAPTER NINE

Josie hoped to get to her sister’s place before five. Al wouldn’t be home by then, and Josie could get in and out unnoticed with the potato salad Molly was making for their mom.

              She reached for the door handle and pulled.

              “That wasn’t a very nice thing to do, Miss Drake,” a voice startled her from behind.

              She whipped around, wide-eyed but relaxed when she realized it was just Tag.

              “Neither was that, Tag. Are you lurking out here for a reason?”

              He laughed aloud, “It isn’t lurking to walk up to my own building.”

              She turned away and opened the door, “It is if you were lying in wait, hoping to scare me.”

              “As if I have nothing better to do with my time,” he waited for her to punch in the code and then followed her up the stairs.

              “So your luck has changed?” she couldn’t resist.

              He gave a tug on her ponytail, “My luck would have changed incredibly if you hadn’t refused to introduce us to Carenza.”

              “You’re not her type,” she laughed and knocked on Molly’s door.

              “I can change,” he leaned against the wall. “Just tell me what her type is, and I can change.”

              “Door’s open,” Molly called out.

              Josie opened it.

              “That’s not safe,” Tag called in to his neighbor.

              “Don’t be silly,” Molly came out of her bedroom, “I live across the street from a paranoid cop. What could go wrong?”

              “I do have a job to go to,” he reminded her.

              Josie turned and looked at him, “Why aren’t you at it?”

              “I went in at midnight,” he opened Molly’s fridge and poked around in her plastic containers. “They let me go about an hour ago.”

              “Long day,” Josie commented. “Aren’t you exhausted?”

              He closed the fridge, “I just caught my second wind.”

              “Jo,” Molly reopened the fridge, “I hate to tell you that you wasted your trip over, but Dad stopped by fifteen minutes ago and picked up the salad himself.”

              “Why didn’t you call?”

              “I did. Your phone must be off.”

              Josie dug it out of her pocket, “Oops.”

              Molly handed Tag two containers, “Chicken and bok choy?”

              “What’s bok choy?”

              Molly pulled on a pair of shoes, “Do you care?”

              “I guess not. Thanks.”

              Josie seated herself and leaned on the counter, “Do you feed the whole neighborhood, Mol?”

              “Nope,” she dragged her sister off the stool, “just you two. Now out,” she ordered. “I’m meeting Angelé for supper.”

              Josie shuddered. Angelé and Molly always ate at haute couture places that served strange food at ridiculous prices.

              “Better you than me.”

              “I’ll tell her you said ‘hi,’” Molly hurried out the door and down the stairs.

              Tag, food in hand, exited without complaint, pulled Molly’s door shut and checked to make sure it locked.

              “You wanna come and share my bok choy? It looks like there’s plenty.”

              “Sure,” she powered her phone back on. “Most of what Molly makes is good.”

              He opened his own door, “What isn’t?”

              “Good?” she took the containers and headed into Tag’s kitchen, “She makes this nasty stuff called keema.”

              “What is it?” he followed her into the kitchen, unbuckling his belt as he walked.

              “It has tofu in it.”

              He lay his holster on the table, “That’s just wrong. Did she at least tell you what it was before you bit into it?”

              “Nope,” Josie dug through his cupboards until she found some plates. “And it smells terrific, so you are really caught off guard.”

              Tag laughed.

              She started the microwave and then looked at him, eyes widening, “What are you doing?”

              “Stripping,” he had opened his shirt and was pulling it from his waistband.

              “So it seems,” she glowered at him.

              “Relax. I’m just taking off the vest,” he unfastened the Kevlar and tossed it onto the table with his sidearm. “I promise not to embarrass you by displaying my incredible physique.”

              “I appreciate that,” she gave the gear a little shove so she could set down the glasses.

              Tag picked them up, “Give me a minute to put this away.”

              Josie had supper on the table by the time he was back.

              “Thanks,” he sat down across from her. “It looks like you’re hardly eating anything.”

              “I actually already ate on set. It just looked too good not to sample it.”

              She bowed her head and thanked God for the food. Tag was smiling at her when she lifted her head.

              “What?” she picked up her fork.

              “It’s really a part of you, isn’t it? Religion, I mean.”

              “My faith definitely makes me who I am,” she agreed.

              He took a bite, “This is good.”

              “Do you always wear that much stuff when you work?”

              “Like a sidearm and a bullet-proof vest? Yeah.”

              “It looks heavy.”

              “I think it’s about thirty pounds. You just get used to it.”

              “Do you wear more for SWAT?”

              “Um hmm,” he spoke around his food.

              She let him eat in peace for a while.

              “I’m curious,” she spoke up again as he was clearing his dishes, “what did you say to the blonde?”

              “What blonde?” he looked sharply at her.

              “The one at the bar last week.”

              Half his mouth lifted in a grin, “Nothing. I asked her if I could buy her a drink. She said ‘no, thanks,’ so I left.”

              “Not very persistent, are you?”

              He shrugged, “No reason to be.”

              “But cocky,” she laughed.

              He rolled a towel and snapped it at her.

              She dodged out of the way, “I should get going. You look like you’re ready to fall over.”

              “Now that I’ve eaten, it’s all coming back to me,” he admitted.

              He walked her to the door.

              “It would have worked on me.”

              He looked confused.

              “That line,” she admitted. “That’s exactly what Malachi said to me.”

              Tag smiled and shut the door after her.

 

 

 

             

 

             

             

CHAPTER TEN

A ringing phone woke Josie long before her alarm was set to go off. She frowned down at the caller i.d. screen, but her vision was too blurry to make out the name.

              “‘lo?”

              “Josie?”

              “Tag?” she blinked up at the clock.

              “Did I wake you. I’m sorry.”

              She sat up, “It’s quarter to five. I’m guessing you would wake most people if you called them at this time. What on earth are you doing up?”

              “I’m just, um I’m going to have to back out of the water skiing today.”

              Josie wondered if he had a better offer.

              “Okay,” she tried not to convey her hurt.

              “I’m in Brewster.”

              “Brewster?”

              “Yeah.”

              For the first time, Josie realized something sounded off about his voice.

              “Tag,” she focused, “why are you in Brewster? Has something happened with your family? Is your mom okay? Your brother?”

              He cleared his throat, “My mom’s in the hospital. She’s okay, but she had a heart attack.”

              Josie swung her legs off the side of the bed, “A heart attack?! Tag, when was this? Is she going to be okay?”

              “L-last night,” his words came out a little shaky. “She was feeling kinda off, so she called her neighbor, he came to get her.”

              “Praise the Lord,” Josie whispered as she stood.

              “My sister-in-law has been saying that all day.”

              “Do you need me to come up there? I could bring you clean clothes?”

              “No,” he assured her. “I just wanted to let you know that I would be up here today and tomorrow. Thanks, though.”

              “Let me know if something changes,” she pressed. “I can come up if you need something.”

              “I feel better just hearing your voice,” he sounded like he was teasing now, but she guessed there was some truth in what he said.

              They talked about nothing for another hour before Tag’s brother interrupted them.

              “Mitch just said Mom’s awake,” he informed her. “I’m going to go see how she’s feeling.”

              “I’ll be praying, Tag,” Josie promised.

              “Thanks, Jo,” he spoke softly. “For talking.”

              They hung up and Josie turned to God with her concerns.

              Tag called her the three days later. She was about to go back on set, but she answered the phone anyway.

              “They’re releasing Mom this afternoon.”

              “That’s good, right?” she checked her makeup. “I mean they wouldn’t let her out if she weren’t really ready for it.”

              “Mitch and Laurie are going to stay at Mom’s house for a few days to make sure she’s really okay, but the doctors say she is fine.”

              “Are you planning on staying there for a while too?”

              “I’m coming home tonight,” he informed her with a smile in his voice. “Apparently, there’s been a wave of crime since I’ve been gone, and I need to come and do something about it.”

              “You’re nuts,” she tried to keep her voice calm.

              “You doing anything tomorrow afternoon?”

              She could not stop the thrill of anticipation. Tag was coming home, and she was going to see him.

              “I’ll probably get off the set about four.”

              “Care to try that jet skiing then?”

              “I would if you think the city can spare you that long.”

              He laughed, “I should have it all back in order by then.”

              “You picking me up at my place?” she waved at the director’s assistant to acknowledge that she had seen three minute warning.

              “I’ll be there by 4:30.”

              Josie hung up the phone with just a slight twinge of guilt. She was supposed to be going to a ladies event at church the following evening.

              She brushed the self-reproach away. Tag was her friend, and he needed her right now.

             

             

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Josie looked at her reflection with some distaste. She had a meeting with the show’s producers in one hour, and she still hadn’t figured out how to cover the bruises on her neck and jaw. She could wear a turtleneck, but that was going to look strange in July.

She could give Hallie a call, but the makeup artist would want to know why she wanted them covered and wasn’t particularly good at keeping a secret. As Josie considered her options, her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Josephine.”

“Thaddeus.”

“I was calling to wish you luck, but if you’re going to be mean. . .”

Josie grinned but didn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her laugh, “Thanks anyway, Tag.”

“You nervous?”

“Not really, but I wish I could find a way to cover some of this bruising.”

“What kind of bruising?”

“My face and neck.”

“I recall you telling me once that you didn’t usually get so bruised at work.”

“If you must know, these bruises are not work-related.”

“What happened?” Tag was on guard.

“Nothing like that, Officer Krupke. I did this to myself.”

BOOK: Without Compromise
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