Dangerous (24 page)

“I'm so glad that terrible case is over.”

“Me, too, Mom.” Camille realized how freaked her mother must have been, considering she'd called her multiple times in the last couple of days since the story had hit the media.

“You're getting enough sleep, aren't you?”

“Yes, of course. With one less killer on the street, I'm sleeping a whole lot better.” Not exactly the truth—how well could she sleep with Drago haunting her dreams?—but Camille didn't need to give her mother something else to worry about. Mom did well enough on her own. “Sorry, but I need to hang up. I have to take Max out before heading for the office.” Hearing his name, the dog whined and put his head in her lap. She absently stroked his head.

“All right, honey. Your dad and I are looking forward to getting together for that brunch this weekend.”

“Me, too.” Now that Sandy was back with her mother and Angel was in the morgue, she could let go of the guilt. Maybe the guilt over Emily, too. She doubted Emily's killer would ever be found. “See you Sunday.”

Wondering how many more times her mother would call before then, Camille hung up and hugged the dog, glad to have him back home.

“Walk?” she whispered in his ear.

He pulled back and barked in response.

“Okay, let's go. Get your leash.”

She had a half hour, so she walked him down to the river, which of course made her think of the last time she'd done this. With Drago.

It had been three days since she'd seen him, enough time to convince Camille that he really was through with her. He hadn't called or texted, not even in response to her myriad messages. She'd already checked in at Justus Investigat
ions, but Drago hadn't been around, and Justus hadn't had a clue as to what was going through his brother's mind. Apparently, Drago wasn't talking. Even so, Justus had encouraged her to not give up on him. Hard to do when it seemed that Drago had given up on her. She couldn't stop thinking about him, though; about the way he'd left things so unfinished between them.

Why couldn't he at least have said good-bye in person?

Because she'd pretended to be asleep when he'd confessed his love for her?

Or had he regretted having said something merely prompted by the intense situation they'd been in?

Whatever the reason, after all they'd gone through together, surely Drago had
something
to say to her. She hadn't even had the chance to thank him for saving her life. Or to tell him that she couldn't imagine her life without him in it.

Camille suddenly realized she'd stopped walking. And Max was standing there, staring at her, his big brown eyes filled with worry. She dropped to her knees and held out her arms. Tail wagging, the dog lunged into them, and she hugged his wiggling body close. At least she had Max for warmth and love, both of which had given her some joy a week ago.

Now she felt like she was settling.

“Not that I love you any less,” she muttered. “I just realize I need more than a fur person in my life.”

Max licked her face as if in agreement, making her smile.

“Come on, mutt,” she said, getting to her feet and heading for home. “I really do have to go into work today.”

She'd been summoned that morning. She was to report to the Area North offices at two. It was a little after one now.

If she lost her job…then what?

She tried not to think about it as she got ready for what might be her last day with the force.

When she entered the Area North offices a bit before two, her gut was tied in a knot. Everyone looked up, though no one spoke to her. She felt their eyes in the center of her back all the way to the lieutenant's office where Rodriguez was already talking to Jackson.

She stopped in the doorway. “I'm here, sir.”

“Come in and have a seat, Martell.”

Noting the seriousness of his expression, she did as he ordered. A glance at Jackson didn't tell her a thing about what would happen to her now. He wasn't looking directly at her.
Uh-oh.

Rodriguez cleared his throat. “You know how I feel about my officers going vigilante.”

Was this it, then? Was he about to fire her? If so, she wouldn't regret a thing that she'd done on this case, other than leaving that damn computer up without password protection.

“Yes, sir. I know you don't approve of what I did.”

Sandy was physically unharmed, but no doubt the poor girl would have years of therapy ahead of her after the terror she'd lived through. The most important thing to Camille was that unlike her childhood friend Emily, Sandy was
alive
.

“I realize that there were extenuating circumstan
ces,” Rodriguez said, “and I've made your case as an officer who has such a sense of duty to the victims that she couldn't let this go. You found the girl, stopped a killer, and gave us a reason to lock up a gang leader.” He opened a drawer and removed her gun and star and set them on the desk near her. “The decision to let you return to active duty was unanimous.”

Camille let go of a breath she didn't even know she was holding. “Thank you, sir!” She gathered her star and gun and felt as if a missing part of her had been returned.

But the lieutenant wasn't done. “I'm to remind you that from now on, you remember we have rules that apply to everyone, including you.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good. Then we're done here. Jackson will bring you up to speed.”

“Welcome back, Martell.” Jackson held out his hand.

Relieved, Camille shook on it, then followed him to the bull pen, where other detectives welcomed her back, as well.

Which would be the perfect ending to this case, if only Drago wasn't ignoring her messages.

She and Jackson spent the rest of the afternoon going over details of the case. Jessie Calderon had been released. He might have been responsible for Angel's killing his mother, but they couldn't charge him. She looked over the statements that she, Sandy, and Drago had given.

“I assume Drago's been cleared.” If not, he could be arrested for killing Angel, aka Oscar Ybarra.

“You'll have to talk to the ASA on that one.”

“Who is…?”

“Lucas Anderson.”

“Wonderful.” Camille's stomach sank as she wondered if the ASA still held that punch against Drago, or if he'd put the incident behind him. “I'll call and see what he has to say.”

“No, I'll make the call, being that it's my case now.”

Jackson was obviously still in charge, and Camille had to admit she was glad for it. With Drago lurking at the back of her mind every moment, she'd lost focus. Justus believed his brother not only wanted her but needed her. Until she'd gotten into that ambulance and he hadn't followed her to the hospital, she'd believed that, as well. It seemed impossible to get herself back on track until she settled things with him.

Which is what she decided to do the moment they were done for the day. Leaving the office, she drove straight to Humboldt Park, talking herself into doing whatever it took to have an honest one-on-one with Drago. She had to know if he really cared about her, if there was any hope for the future. All along, she'd been the one avoiding a relationship. Now that she'd changed her mind, had he done so, as well? She simply had to know if there was a chance for them. When she hit Drago's street, she immediately spotted the Trans Am, but the motorcycle was nowhere in sight.

Great. He must be at the biker bar.

She sat there for a moment, her pulse drilling her, before deciding to find him.

Five minutes later, she identified Drago's bike in the Hog Heaven Saloon lot, so she parked and went inside. Taking a moment to steady her nerves, she swept her gaze around the room, but even though patrons were sparse this early, she didn't spot the man. Damn it! Where was he? Why was he making this so difficult for her? She was tempted to turn around and leave.

The bartender was staring at her, so she approached him instead. “I'm looking for Drago Nance.”

His expression closed. “Name's not familiar.”

Getting irritated, Camille said, “Funny, but you knew him a few days ago. Does this jar your memory?” She pulled out her star identifying her as a cop and flashed it at him.

“Uh, yeah, sure. I don't want any trouble. He's having a beer.”

She took another look at the men dotting the bar. “Don't see him.”

“At a table in back.”

Taking a deep breath, she hesitated. What if Drago really wasn't interested and she was running a fool's errand? Only one way to find out. As had happened the first time she came in here alone, Camille felt all eyes follow her as she made her way toward the back where Drago sat alone, nursing a beer. Her heart twisted just a little as she took in the face she'd grown to love, and the hands that had done such a fine job loving her. Unfamiliar emotions filled her. She guessed this is what being in love felt like.

She threw herself into the chair opposite Drago and waited for his reaction.

He met her gaze for a second, then took another sip from his bottle.

“Is this why you're not answering your messages?” she asked. “Too busy hanging out in the biker bar?” Somehow she kept her voice from shaking.

“Been busy.”

“On a new case?” If so, Justus hadn't mentioned one.

He didn't answer.

She clenched her jaw. Was he trying to get to her? To make her shake inside? If so, it was working.

Pulling herself together, she asked, “Don't you want to know what's going on with the one you were paid to handle?”

He shrugged.

“You did kill the killer. It's Lucas Anderson's case.”

Anderson had cleared him, but she didn't say so, and again, he had no response other than to tighten his jaw and take another swig of beer. To get his full attention, there was only one thing she could think to do.

Standing tall and ignoring the way her knees went soft, she said, “Drago Nance, you're under arrest.”

Now she had his attention. He was staring at her, his expression disbelieving, but she was determined they were going to have that talk, one way or another.

“Get to your feet, turn around, and put your hands behind your back.”

He stalled for a few seconds, as if waiting for her to change her mind, but in the end, he did as she ordered, and she cuffed him just as Titus came out of his office.

“Hey, what's going on, Detective?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. Just a formality.”

“Yeah, right!” Drago growled. “Nothing to worry about with Anderson on the case.”

With Drago's back to her, Camille made a face and shook her head at Titus. Apparently the biker got the message, because his eyebrows shot up into what would have been his hairline…if he'd had any hair.

“Uh, okay. You need help, Drago, you got my number.”

Already pushing Drago toward the entrance, Camille grew aware of the snickers and comments that followed them. And of Drago's growing anger. Well, too bad. He could have avoided the embarrassment if he would just talk to her without coercion.

She got him in the backseat of her car and took off.

He still wasn't talking.

Not until she turned onto his street and found a parking spot.

“What the hell, Camille? What are we doing at my place? I thought you were taking me in.”

Her turn not to talk.

She opened the door to let him out. When he refused to move and gave her the evil eye, she said, “Don't make me drag you out of there.” As if she really could budge his weight if he resisted.

With a grunt, he shifted himself toward her and climbed out of the car. She held on to his arm all the way back to the coach house, not because she feared he would run, but because she simply wanted to touch him. Everything inside her longed for him in a way she'd never felt for anyone else. It was an ache that had nothing to do with the physical. It was as if her soul needed the satisfaction of being joined with his. She didn't know how else to describe it.