Explosive Attraction (10 page)

“Mine,” Jake said.

“Someone want to tell me why I don’t see a gun in the suspect’s hand?”

Rafe stepped forward, cutting off whatever Jake was about to say. “The suspect had a metallic object in his hand and turned on me in a threatening manner. Detective Young had no way to clearly see whether the object was a gun or not. He made a split-second decision to save another officer’s life. I would have done the same thing, sir.”

“Oh, you would have, would you? And I suppose that’s
why you drew your gun on a fellow officer?”

Rafe gritted his teeth together. “A misunderstanding, sir.”

Jake snorted and crossed his arms.

Buresh swore a blue streak. “We’ll get to the bottom of this back in my office. But regardless of what happened here, or why, I need your gun, Jake. And your badge, pending an internal investigation into the shooting. And since you took a life,
you have to see the shrink. You don’t come back until you have a piece of paper from the doctor saying you can come back. You got that?”

Jake’s jaw clenched. He unclipped his badge and slapped it into Buresh’s palm. He unloaded his gun, and handed that over, too. “I don’t need to see a head doctor.”

“SOP. No amount of complaining is going to change that. Now go. Both of you. I’ll meet
you back at the station. I want every single detail about what happened here.”

Jake stalked off into the trees.

Chapter Ten

Darby tapped her nails on the desk in the squad room, waiting for Rafe to finish his interview with his boss. After giving her statement, she’d wanted to go straight to the hospital to check on Mindy. But Buresh wanted her to wait in case he thought of more questions for her after talking to Rafe and Jake. Since the poor man had been stabbed by the same person who’d
been trying to kill her, she didn’t feel she could refuse his request.

“Thanks for not scratching the Charger.”

Darby glanced up in surprise to see Rafe’s brother Nick standing over her.

“When I heard about the shooting,” he continued, “I expected to find a few bullet holes or at least some scratches. But the car is sitting out front, pretty as you please, not a scratch on it. Thanks.”

“Um, you’re welcome?”

He grinned and plopped down in an unoccupied chair at another desk. He rolled over next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing his arms behind his head. Unlike the officers milling around the room or sitting at their desks, casting surreptitious glances toward Buresh’s glass-walled office every few minutes, Nick made no attempt to pretend
he wasn’t watching every second of the tongue-lashing Jake and Rafe were receiving. “How long have they been in there?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Has Buresh been yelling the entire time?”

“Pretty much. He hasn’t given them much of a chance to say anything. I guess it’s a pretty big deal to shoot an unarmed man, regardless of what that man did. Rafe mentioned something about the
sheriff’s office conducting an investigation.”

Nick waved his hand in a careless gesture. “That’s normal in this kind of situation. St. Augustine P.D. doesn’t have their own IA unit. Internal Affairs,” he clarified, after apparently seeing the confusion on her face. “They have to bring in someone from the outside to conduct the investigation. From what I heard on the way here, Jake will be
exonerated. That’s not why Buresh is yelling.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope. He’s trying to patch things up between Rafe and Jake. They used to be really close, which made them his best investigative team. He’s wasting his breath. You can’t be friends with a guy you blame for your sister’s death.”

“Why does Jake blame him?”

He slid her a sideways glance, and Darby had the impression he
was deciding what to tell her. And whether to tell her the truth.

He looked back at Buresh’s office. “Shelby and Jake were adopted. Their adoptive parents died in a car crash right after high school. They didn’t have any other family.”

“I take it they were close?”

“Very.”

“They never found Shelby’s killer?”

“Right.”

Darby nodded, believing she understood Jake’s anger.
“Without the killer to blame, Jake is focusing his frustrations on the one who survived. He’s rearranged the facts in his head to give himself an excuse for how he feels. He’s probably genuinely convinced Rafe did something, or
didn’t
do something, that caused his sister to die.”

“You think so?” Nick slid her that sideways glance again.

“It’s the best hypothesis I can come up with. I
don’t suppose you could tell me more about what happened? All I know is that someone broke into Rafe’s house, apparently a botched robbery, and shot Rafe and his wife.”

“I guess since Bobby Ellington splashed it all over the newspapers for weeks, it’s really not a secret.”

“Is that why Rafe doesn’t like Ellington?”

Nick laughed. “Baby, it’s not that Rafe doesn’t
like
Ellington.
He despises the man.” His smile faded. “With good reason.”

“Let me guess. You’re not going to tell me the reason.”

“Nope.”

She sighed and tapped her nails on the desk again. “What about the shooting? You said you could tell me about that.”

“You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?” he teased.

“Comes with the job.”

He raised a brow in question.

“I’m a therapist,
a psychologist.”

Nick burst into laughter.

Darby tried not to be offended. “I wasn’t making a joke.”

He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss against her fingers before letting go. “My apologies, darlin’. You being a therapist just struck me funny.”

Darby had the impression he was remembering an inside joke, but she had no clue what it could be.

He leaned farther back in
his chair, and propped his feet—which Darby just realized were encased in a pair of cowboy boots—on the desk.

“What you said is pretty much what happened,” he continued. “Rafe got shot in the chest. Cracked a rib, lost a lot of blood, but the bullet passed through without hitting any vital organs. Shelby got hit in the jugular. She couldn’t have been saved even if she’d been shot in a hospital.
It was a tragedy, all the way around. And I don’t care what kind of self-delusion Jake is under. He has no right blaming my brother and making Rafe feel any worse than he already does. Jake is a moron.”

Darby blinked in surprise at the anger and conviction in Nick’s voice. She wouldn’t have expected the half-naked, outrageous flirt she’d met earlier to have such a serious side.

Just
as quickly as he’d turned serious, his expression cleared and his mouth curved into that cocky half grin of his. “How about I take you to dinner? Now that all this is over and you don’t have to suffer with my far-too-serious brother anymore. You like seafood? We can go to Harry’s, get a seat by the window, eat lobster while we watch the boats sail by Castillo de San Marcos. Or we could go to The Columbia
off St. George Street. Their roast pork à la Cubana is out-of-this-world good. You like Spanish food?”

A gorgeous man—gorgeous with a capital
G
—had just asked her out.

And Darby wasn’t even tempted.

She should have been all fluttery inside and excited. Instead, she was more interested in what was going on in Buresh’s office. Rafe was sitting in a chair now, looking down at the floor.
Jake’s eyes were closed and he looked as though he’d fallen asleep against the wall. Buresh was sitting behind his desk, shaking his head.

“Looks like I’m too late. You’re already taken.”

She blinked, trying to remember what they were talking about before she’d gotten distracted. “I’m sorry, what?”

Nick grinned. “Never mind. I was just testing a theory, don’t really have the time
anyway. When you see Rafe again, tell him I have to leave earlier than I’d expected, an undercover op. He can leave the car at my house. Another DEA guy will grab it and check it back in. I’ve already got something flashier and a whole lot faster for this assignment.”

“You mean the car we borrowed isn’t yours?” she asked as he rose from his chair.

“Heck no. I was driving it as part of
my job. I’m a four-wheel-drive truck kind of guy, like Rafe. Only I’m too smart to ever let him drive
my
truck.” He pressed a kiss against her cheek, lingering longer than seemed appropriate. “Take care, darlin’. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” He winked and headed toward the exit.

Smiling at his outrageous behavior, Darby rubbed her cheek. When she looked back toward Buresh’s office,
Rafe was staring at her. His jaw was clenched tight. For a moment, Darby wondered if he was angry at her for some reason. But then he turned back toward Buresh.

* * *

R
AFE
CROSSED
HIS
ARMS
and leaned back in his chair. He shouldn’t be surprised that Darby had fallen for Nick’s charms. Most women did, nothing new there. What
was
new was that it bothered him, even more than having to sit
through Buresh’s scolding.

“What’s it going to take, guys?” Buresh asked. “What’s it going to take to repair this rift between the two of you?” Now that his anger was spent, his face was no longer flushed. It was pale and drawn. He definitely shouldn’t have left the hospital so quickly after what he’d been through.

Jake’s face mirrored the same guilt Rafe was feeling. Rafe stood and
crossed to the desk. “Captain, don’t you worry about Jake and me. We don’t have to be friends to work together.”

“Maybe not.” He scrubbed his hands across the stubble on his jaw and let out a long breath. “I give up, for now. I’m going home.” He pointed a finger at Jake. “You need to go home, too. Think really hard about what happened today. The sheriff’s office will have someone over here
first thing in the morning to interview you and start their investigation into the shooting. I want this to go smoothly and fast so you can get back to work. And don’t forget to check in with the shrink. Understood?”

Jake gave him a tight nod. “Understood.”

“And, you,” Buresh said, swiveling in his chair to point at Rafe. “I want a full report sitting on my desk when I get here in the
morning, including an ID on the dead guy, with a complete background. I want to know why he chose those particular victims, and how he chose them. I want this bomber case wrapped tight and done with so we can get this place back to normal.” He glanced past Rafe, looking through the glass into the squad room. “And escort Dr. Steele home, or to the hospital to see her friend, wherever she wants to
go. I’m too tired to ask her more questions right now.”

Buresh stood and grabbed the suit jacket off the back of his chair. His hands shook as he shrugged it on.

“If you want to take a few more days, I can cover things here,” Rafe said.

Jake glanced at him, a look of resentment on his face. He was normally the captain’s go-to guy when the captain was out of the office. But it wasn’t
as if Jake could fill in when he was on administrative leave.

“We’ll see how I feel in the morning,” Buresh said. “I might have you drop that report off at my house if I don’t make it in. I’ll let you know.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve got to work with Officer Daniels’s widow to plan the funeral.”

Daniels, the officer who’d been killed at the hospital. This would be the first funeral Rafe
had attended since... He shied away from that thought.

Jake followed close on Buresh’s heels out of the office, not giving Rafe a chance to talk to him.

Rafe let out a frustrated breath and strode toward the desk where Darby was sitting. Her green eyes shined out of her pale face, reminding him again of a porcelain doll. And yet, she’d fought like a pit bull to save her friend today.
Rafe might not care for the kind of work she did, but he had to grudgingly admit she’d surprised and impressed him. She could have sat in the car and been perfectly safe while he helped with the evacuation. Instead, she’d risked her life, all to help a friend. And then she’d ordered the cops to go help him, to provide backup as he searched for the bomber.

She stood as he neared the desk,
her purse on her shoulder as if she was ready to go. “Detective Morgan—”

“After what we’ve been through, I think you can keep calling me Rafe. Don’t you?”

Her face flushed an adorable shade of pink. She blushed more than any woman he’d ever met.

“Um, yes, of course. Rafe. I thought, because we were in the station, that I should still call you Det—”

“What were you going to say?”

She tightened her hand around her purse strap. “Is there anything else you need from me? Now that the bomber is...well, now that I’m not in danger? I’d really like to go see Mindy.”

He hated the idea of her being alone when she found out how her friend was doing. He hadn’t heard any updates, but he couldn’t imagine the prognosis was good. “As long as you don’t mind coming back in for
an interview if we have more questions, you’re free to go. I can drop you off at the hospital and have an officer bring your car up there so you’ll have a way home.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of her. “That would be great. Thank you.”

He led her through the squad room to the parking lot. “I saw my brother talking to you earlier.” He held open the Charger’s passenger door.

“Oh, I forgot. He wanted me to tell you he had to leave earlier than expected, some kind of undercover assignment.”

He nodded, disappointed Nick hadn’t stuck around to talk to him. But he understood Nick’s job, and that he had his own schedule to keep.

When Rafe slid behind the wheel, Darby turned toward him. “I really appreciate everything you did for me. You saved my life, several
times. I don’t know how to thank someone for that. All I can say is, if you ever...well, I know you don’t seem to like psychologists much. But I’m a good one. More than good. I’m one of the best in North Florida. That’s why I testify in so many cases.” She smoothed her nails across her slacks. “Anyway, if you ever want to talk, about Jake, or your wife, or whatever...I’m available. No charge.”

He tightened his hands on the wheel. “You seem to think I need
fixing
. I don’t. My life is fine, just the way it is. And while I’ll admit you’ve surprised me these past few days, and that you might not be the devil I once thought you were, nothing has really changed. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be out on the streets, arresting bad guys. And you’ll be right back in the courtroom, doing everything
you can to let them go. Don’t think that because of everything we went through that we’re suddenly friends. We’re not, and we never will be.”

She blinked at him, her mouth falling slightly open during his little speech. Rafe ruthlessly squelched the feelings of guilt that shot through him. Darby had been trying to help. He knew that, but even if he believed in her mumbo-jumbo therapy—which
he didn’t—he would never sit in a room with her and let her try to make him feel better.

Because he didn’t deserve it.

Regardless of how broken his marriage had already been before the night of the home invasion, he should have been able to protect her. He knew more than anyone how dangerous the world could be. He shouldn’t have let his guard down just because he was at home. If there
was a way to rid himself of all this guilt, he wouldn’t take it.

Not when his wife was lying in a cold, lonely grave at the edge of town.

* * *

R
AFE
’
S
DENIAL
THAT
he needed help had filled Darby with sadness, but her sadness had turned to cold rage when she stepped into Mindy’s room in the intensive care unit. Mindy was lying unconscious on the bed, with wires and tubes attached
all over her body. A ventilator hissed as it breathed for her, and the doctors weren’t sure if she’d ever wake up. The rage that flooded through Darby had no outlet, nowhere to go. Because the man who’d done this to her friend was dead. There was no one to spend her anger on.