Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 2 of 2 (6 page)

“It looks like I'll be fostering Mr. Pup for a while. Until the Humane Society can find out if there's an owner or put him up for adoption. Maybe Tyler can come visit him.”

Katie shook her head, whipping the ponytail back and forth. “Don't tell him that. He'd be at your house every day after school.”

“You know I don't mind having Tyler around.”

“I know. But... Mr. Pup? Tyler calls him Padre.”

Trent nodded. The name fit. “Like a priest's collar. That's what I'll call him, then. Now, about last night...” He could do the sharp right turns, too. But her frustrated huff warned him he'd have to coax the answers out of her, just like he'd coaxed Padre into trusting him. “You have to give me something, Katie. You know I won't quit.”

“I know.” Her blue eyes tilted up to meet his briefly. Her gaze quickly dropped to the middle button of his shirt, where she plucked away what was most likely a couple of dog hairs. The nerves beneath his skin jumped as her fingers danced against his chest. But he couldn't allow himself to respond to the unintended caress. This was distraction. Nervous energy. Something on her mind that kept her from focusing. There was definitely something bothering Team Rinaldi this morning. “I have to get ready for the meeting.”

“Every morning, you've been bragging about Tyler and the play you guys are doing. This morning, all you're doing is apologizing and fussing around like it's your first day on the job.” Outweighing her by a good hundred pounds wasn't the only reason he wasn't budging. He covered her hand with his, stilling her fidgeting fingers. “Talk to me. Use words that make sense.”

“Calling you was an impulse,” she conceded. “Once I got my act together, I realized I shouldn't have bothered you.”

Nope. He still wasn't budging.

Trent felt the whisper of her surrendering sigh against his hand. “They didn't need me backstage last night, so I was doing some work on my laptop out in the theater auditorium. I found a connection between an old double missing-person case and some new stuff we're working on. I got caught up following the trail through the reports and I lost track of the time.”

This was remorse talking, maybe even a little fear, he thought, as she slowly tilted her gaze to his again. “I couldn't find Tyler when I was done. I mean, eventually I did. He was by himself in the parking lot, waiting for me. Everyone else had left and he was locked out of the building. And then I thought I heard... I swear someone was...”

“Someone was what?” He gently combed his fingers through her scattered bangs, smoothing them back into place.

“I thought someone was watching me. The lights went out, so it was pretty dark, and while I was looking for Tyler in the dressing rooms, some guy pushed me down and ran outside.”

Trent's fingers stilled. His grip on her hand against his chest tightened. “A man attacked you? Are you hurt?”

She brought her other hand up to pat his, urging him to calm the blood boiling in his veins. “This is why I don't tell you things. It wasn't an attack. The dark always freaks me out a little bit, and my imagination made things seem worse than they were. Once I found Tyler with Padre, everything was fine.”

“You don't know what that guy was after.”

“He wasn't after me. Maybe I interrupted a break-in. Or some homeless guy snuck in to get out of the cold and he got scared by the blackout, too. He just wanted me out of his way so he could escape. Doug Price is going to give me grief tonight for not picking up the mess I left in the dressing room, but I wasn't hurt. I was more worried about Tyler.”

He didn't care about whoever Doug Price was, but if he gave Katie grief about anything, he'd flatten him. “Did you report it?” She hadn't. “Katie—” His frustration ebbed on a single breath as understanding dawned. “You called
me
.” Hell. He should have investigated inside the building instead of letting the dog distract him from his purpose. He should have gone straight to Katie's apartment when he didn't find her and Tyler at the theater, even if it was the middle of the night and he woke them out of a sound sleep. “I'm sorry. If I'd known what kind of danger you were in—”

“It wouldn't have done any good. By the time I found Tyler and went back to take a couple of pictures, anything suspicious I'd seen was gone.” Katie quickly extricated her hands from his and nudged him out of her way. “I wasn't in any real danger. I was being a lousy mom last night. Guilt and reading that file about the missing teen and her baby made me imagine it was something more.” She picked up a stack of briefing folders and distributed them in front of each chair around the table. “Except for that message.”

Oh, he had a bad feeling about this. “What message?”

She tried to shrug off whatever had drained the color from her face. “Some prankster wrote something creepy in the snow behind the theater.”

“And then he swept it away.”

Katie spun to face him. “Yes. But how did you...? Right. You were there. And you don't quit.”

He propped his hands at his waist. “What did the message say? Something about breaking in to the theater?”

She hugged the last folder to her chest. “I don't know if it was even intended for me.”

“What did it say?” he repeated, as patiently as he'd talked to Padre.

“‘Stop or someone will get hurt.'”

He dug his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, the only outward sign of the protective anger surging through him. “Stop what? Who'll get hurt?”

Her shoulders lifted with silent confusion. She didn't have those answers. “Maybe he thought I was chasing him. I wasn't. The darkness freaked me out and kept me from thinking straight, and all I wanted to do was find Tyler to make sure he was safe. If I hadn't panicked, I'd have handled things better, and I wouldn't have ruined your evening.”

Trent plucked the folder from her grasp and set it on the table. “You lost track of your son. That's supposed to frighten a parent. Don't beat yourself up about it. You said he's okay, right?”

She nodded. “We're both fine. Thanks for worrying.”

“Thank you for sharing. Now maybe I won't worry so much.”

She moved back to her computer and manipulated the pictures again. “I'll believe that when I see it.”

They
did
know each other well. “Honey, you know I'm always going to worry—”

“You shouldn't call me
honey
.” Katie glanced toward the window to the main room. “The rest of the team is here. I need to finish setting up.”

CHAPTER FOUR

If that woman worked any harder at pushing him away, she might as well slam Trent up against the wall. “At least promise me you'll keep a closer eye on the people around you. If somebody was lying in wait for you—”

“I promise. Okay? Just let it go.” Katie stepped around him as Max, Olivia and Jim came in, their animated conversation masking the awkward silence in the room.

“You're killing me here, Liv,” Trent's partner, Max, groused. “A Valentine's Day wedding? You're already making me shave and rent a tux.”

Olivia breezed past the burly blond detective, the oldest member of their team, taking her seat at the table. “Just because you and Rosie eloped to Vegas doesn't mean the rest of us don't want to share that special day with friends and family.”

Max jabbed his finger on the tabletop, defending his choice in wedding arrangements. “Hey. I wanted to make an honest woman out of Rosie. And you know how her last engagement turned out. She wasn't interested in dragging out the process any more than I was.”

Max's new wife had barely survived the nightmare of her first engagement to an abusive boyfriend and had become a recluse as a result. Meanwhile, Max had been fighting his own demons when the two had first met and clashed during the investigation into her ex-fiancé's unsolved murder. Mixing like oil and water, it was a wonder the prim and proper spinster and the rugged former soldier had ever gotten together at all. But Trent had never met two misfits who were a better match for each other. Max brought Rosie out of her shell, and she'd uncovered a few civilized human qualities that Trent's rough-around-the-edges partner had lost in the years he'd been dealing with post-traumatic stress. Max had been shot twice and Rosie nearly drowned solving that case. But the close calls had made them willing to risk everything and seize the love they'd found.

Trent might be a little envious of his older friend settling into the sort of relationship he'd once wanted with Katie Rinaldi, but he was happy for his partner. And he had been honored to fly out to Las Vegas to stand up for the couple.

“As soon as the doctor cleared me to travel, I made the reservations. There wasn't time to send out invitations.” Max reached over to thump Trent's shoulder as he pulled out a chair to sit beside him. “At least I took the big guy with us.”

Trent grinned, thinking he'd better join the teasing banter before anyone questioned the tension between him and Katie. “And then you put me on a plane back to KC twenty minutes after the ceremony so you two could get started on the honeymoon.”

Max grinned. “Hey, I'm ugly. Not stupid.”

Olivia was smiling suspiciously, working her cool logic on Max. “Maybe, since you cheated Rosie out of the whole white-wedding thing, she'd like to put on a fancy gown and see you all dressed up for once in your life. I've yet to see a man that a tuxedo couldn't make look good.”

“I'd love to see her in a beautiful dress like that.” Was the old man on the team blushing? Who'd have thought? Still, Max grumbled, “You're determined to make me miserable, aren't you?”

Jim Parker grinned and pulled out the chair beside his partner. “Maybe he's worried you're going to make him dance with you at the reception, Liv—after Gabe, your dad and your brothers, of course.”

“And Grandpa Seamus,” Olivia added. She pointed to Max. “But you are definitely on my dance card after that.” She wiggled her finger toward Trent. “You, too, big guy. You all agreed to be our ushers, so it's tuxes and boutonnieres for everyone.”

Max put up his hands in surrender. “There's only so much froufrou a man can take, Liv.”

Jim propped his elbow on the arm of his chair, leaning over to back up Olivia. “I don't know, Max. There are few things I like better than slow dancing with my wife. Natalie's pregnant enough now that when we're close, I can feel the baby kicking between us.”

Max scrubbed his palm over the top of his military-short hair and muttered a teasing curse. “Okay, Parker. Now you've gone too far, buying into all of Liv's romantic mush.” Knowing full well he was going to eventually buy into it, too, Max turned back to the lady detective. “I thought you were a tomboy.”

Olivia smiled wistfully. “My wedding day will be the exception. I'm the only female in my family. You don't think those boys all want to throw a big party for me? Dad insists on me wearing the veil of Irish lace that Mom wore at their wedding, and I want to. It's a way of honoring her memory and making me feel like she's there with us.” The mood around the entire table quieted out of respect for Olivia's mother, who had died when she was just a child. But the detective with the short dark hair didn't let the room get gloomy. “Besides, Gabe looks gorgeous in a tux, and I refuse to have him looking prettier than me.”

“Impossible,” Max teased. “But if you're going all formal, then I guess I can put on a tie.”

“Thank you for your sacrifice.” Olivia smiled before turning her attention to Trent. “What about you? Will we see you dancing the night away at the reception?” She snapped her fingers as an idea struck. “You should bring Katie.”

The brown ponytail bobbed as Katie's head popped up from her laptop screen. “Me? Like a date?”

Trent groaned inwardly at the pale cast to her cheeks. Did she have to look as if the possibility of attending a friend's wedding together was such an out-of-left-field idea?

“If you want.” Olivia chided the low-pitched whistle and sotto voce teasing from Jim and Max before smiling at Katie. “Stop it, children. Believe me, I understand better than most about the department's no-fraternization policy. But even though we're part of the same team, technically, you work in two different branches—information technology and law enforcement. Besides, I was thinking practicality. Trent's an usher and you're still going to be one of my bridesmaids, right?”

“Of course. I was honored you asked me to be a part of the ceremony, but...” Katie's apologetic gaze bounced off Trent and back to the bride-to-be. “I was going to bring Tyler as my date.”

Olivia seemed pleased by that answer. “Even better. I'd love to see the little man again. All three of you should come together.”

Even though they hadn't gone out on a date together in nine years, it seemed as though everyone thought of Trent and Katie as a couple. Maybe the others even took it for granted that they were destined to be a family unit one day. The only people who knew it was never going to happen were Trent and Katie themselves.

Sinking into his chair, Trent took another long swallow of his coffee. He watched the strained expression on Katie's face relax as the two women talked about Tyler. Her round face and blue eyes animated with excitement as they wagered whether her nine-year-old son would make as much of a fuss about dressing up for the special occasion as Max had. Katie was a different woman when she talked about her son. Her eyes sparkled and the tension around her mouth eased into a genuine smile.

No wonder she'd been so upset about losing track of Tyler last night. Tyler was her joy, her reason for being—her number-one excuse for shunning Trent and any other relationship that threatened to get in the way of taking care of her son. It wasn't that she didn't care about Trent as a friend, but she'd given her heart to another male nine years ago.

Max's fist knocked on Trent's chair below the edge of the table. Trent took another drink before meeting his partner's questioning look. “You okay, junior? You're pretty quiet this morning.”

“You're loud enough for the both of us.”

Max grinned at the joke as he was meant to, but his astute blue eyes indicated he wasn't buying the smiles and smart remarks. “There's that whole tall, dark and silent thing you do, and then there's stewing over in the corner. You two were duking it out in here before we came in, weren't you?” His gaze darted over to Katie and back to him. “Seriously, what's the problem? Is it you? Katie? Is the kid okay?”

Trent swore under his breath. There was no subtlety to Max Krolikowski, no filter on his mouth. When he saw a problem, he fixed it. When he cared about something or someone, he went all in. Hell of a guy to have backing him up in a fight, but best friend or not, Trent wasn't sure the man he'd been partnered with on the cold case squad was the guy he wanted to confide his frustration and concerns about Katie to. “She basically told me to mind my own business.”

Max dropped his voice to a low-pitched grumble. “You think something's up?”

Even if Trent wanted to share his suspicions about blackouts and prowlers and threats in the snow, he wouldn't get the chance to. All conversations around the table stopped as Lieutenant Ginny Rafferty-Taylor rushed into her office. “Are we all here?” The petite blonde officer set her laptop and a stack of papers at the head of the table before going back to shut the door. “Sorry I'm late.”

Trent set down his coffee and turned everyone's focus to the police work at hand. “Ma'am. Katie said you had an emergency meeting with Chief Taylor?”

The older woman nodded. “Seth Cartwright from Vice and A.J. Rodriguez from the drug unit were there, too. I'll get right to it since it affects investigations in each of our divisions.”

“What affects us?” Jim asked.

“Leland Asher.”

Trent's mouth took on a bitter tang at the mention of the alleged mob boss whose name kept popping up in several of their unsolved investigations.

Olivia leaned forward at the familiar name. “What about him? Gabe's first fiancée was writing a newspaper exposé about Asher when she was killed.” Olivia and Gabe had solved that murder, but they hadn't been able to prove Asher had hired the man who'd shot the reporter.

Even Katie, who had never dealt with Asher directly, knew who he was. “His name shows up as a person of interest in several investigations in the KCPD database. Has he been arrested for one of those cases?”

“Not likely,” Max said. “He has a great alibi for any recent crimes. He's currently serving a whopping two years for collusion and illegally influencing Adrian McCoy's Senate campaign.”

“Not even that, I'm afraid.” Lieutenant Rafferty-Taylor shrugged out of her navy blue jacket, hanging it over the back of her chair before sitting. Her back remained ramrod straight. “Asher's case went to appellate court on a hardship appeal. The chief just got word that Asher is being released from prison early, on parole. That's what good behavior and a pricey lawyer will do for you.”

A collective groan and a few choice curses filled the room.

“Any chance the judge made a mistake?” Trent asked.

Their team leader shook her head. “It's the holidays, Trent. I think Judge Livingston was feeling generous. Chief Taylor wanted to alert us that Mr. Asher will be back on the streets, albeit wearing an ankle bracelet and submitting to regular check-ins with his parole officer, sometime tomorrow or Thursday.”

“Well, merry Christmas to us,” Max groused, folding his arms across his chest. “Just what we need, a mob boss heading home to KC for the holidays. I bet the crime rate doubles by New Year's.”

For a moment, the petite blonde lieutenant sympathized with her senior detective, but then she opened her laptop, signaling she was ready to begin their morning meeting. “I know we believe Leland Asher is the common link to several of the department's unsolved or ongoing cases. The chief wanted us to be fully informed so we can keep an eye on him. Without our efforts turning into harassment, of course,” the lieutenant cautioned.

“I'm willing to harass him,” Olivia volunteered with a sarcastic tone. Max pointed across the table and nodded, agreeing with the frustration-fueled plan. “What's the point of solving these old cases if a judge is going to let the perpetrators go with little more than a slap on the wrist?”

Trent could feel the tension in the room getting thicker. Cold case work wasn't an easy assignment. Sometimes evidence degraded or got lost. Witnesses passed away. Suspects did, too. Memories grew foggy with age. And perps who'd gotten away with murder or other crimes that hadn't yet reached their statute of limitations grew confident or complacent enough over the years that they weren't likely to confess. So when the team built a solid enough case to convict someone, it sure would be nice if they'd stay behind bars for a while.

“Are we moving any cases we think Asher might be a part of to our active files?” Trent asked.

The lieutenant nodded. “We should at least give them a cursory glance to see which ones to follow up on. I believe we can use this to our advantage. Katie, will you flag those files and send each of us copies for review?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Katie's head was down and she was already typing. By the time she looked up to see Trent grinning at her geeky efficiency, she was hitting the send button. She smiled back before turning to the lieutenant. “I just ran a search for Mr. Asher's name, and all those files should show up on your computers by the time you get back to your desks.”

Trent gave her a thumbs-up before turning back to the others. “It'd be a hell of a lot easier to prove Asher's connections to those crimes by seeing who he interacts with on the outside.”

Lieutenant Rafferty-Taylor nodded to him, probably appreciating how his suggestion cooled the jets of the others in the room, especially his perennial Scrooge of a partner, Max. Then she gestured to Katie at the opposite end of the table. “Speaking of connections, Katie, you said you've come up with something we need to look at in your research? Shall we get to work?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Katie shoved her bangs off her forehead and glanced around the table as everyone waited expectantly. Trent winked some encouragement when their gazes met. She smiled her thanks for his support before looking down at her laptop. She highlighted the first picture on the television screen and turned to point to the gathering of mug shots she'd posted there. “Detailed information is in the folder in front of you, but you can follow the gist of what I think might be a significant discovery up on the screen.” As Trent settled in to listen to the presentation, the rest of them did, too.