Justice Served (7 page)

Catherine regarded the mountain of paperwork covering every available surface of Hazel’s desk and grimaced sympathetically. “It looks awful.”

“It’s worse.”

“I’m sorry. I’d volunteer to help but the thought terrifies me.”

Hazel snorted. “It would probably be good practice for you. You’re going to be doing it yourself one day soon.”

“I’m not at all certain I want the job,” Catherine said immediately, “and what’s more, you’re going to be here for a long time to come.”

“There are days I wonder about that,” Hazel said with uncharacteristic solemnity. “There seem to be more and more of them when it just isn’t fun anymore.”

“Those are the times we have to remember to separate the work from the bullshit.”

Hazel blinked, then laughed with genuine pleasure. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. You came to talk about something, and I ended up telling you my troubles.”

“It seems only fair, since I’m always burdening you with mine.”

“Nonsense. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do.”

Since Hazel was regarding her expectantly, Catherine got right to the point. “I need advice, of course. It’s about a former patient whom I expect to be treating again. Since the last time I saw her in therapy, I’ve gotten somewhat personally involved with her. What’s more, Rebecca is involved with her too.”

“How do you know she’ll be returning?” Hazel asked astutely.

“She’s a police officer, and she’s sustained an on-duty injury. She’ll need to be cleared psychologically before she returns to duty. Since she’s seen me before, I expect she’ll return.”

“And you’ve gotten to know her outside of therapy, I take it.”

Catherine nodded. “It’s complicated.” She laughed at her own understatement. “Of course it’s complicated, or I wouldn’t be here. She’s an officer assigned to Rebecca’s team, and I’ve worked with the team as a consultant fairly closely for the last month or so. The officer and I have worked together in that capacity.”

“So it was still a professional relationship, essentially.”

“Yes, and this particular individual is extraordinarily respectful of boundaries. She’s very much like Rebecca.” Catherine smiled, thinking of Dellon’s quick temper and Rebecca’s cool, tight control. “Although they’re as different as night and day.”

“You’re fond of her, aren’t you?”

Slightly taken aback, Catherine hesitated, considering the early-morning call she’d received from Rebecca just a few days before telling her that Dellon had been seriously injured and was on her way to the hospital. She remembered her swift relief that it hadn’t been her lover who had been hurt, followed immediately by her concern for a young woman she had come to know and like. “I
do
like her. But I like many of my patients.”

“I agree. If you didn’t, I’d worry about that.” Hazel lifted a mug and sipped, then made a face. “Cold tea. Almost as bad as cold coffee.” She leaned forward, punched in several numbers on her phone, and asked Stef if she would mind bringing two cups of tea. “So you’ll be seeing her in a somewhat limited capacity—short-term, focused on her recent injury. Correct?”

“Yes. Usually these things are resolved in three to five sessions.” Catherine waited while Hazel got up to take the tea from her assistant. “Thank you,” Catherine said, taking a mug from Hazel. “But sometimes other things come out, and I end up seeing the individual for long-term therapy.”

“And that’s where you think problems might arise?”

“Potentially.” Catherine blew on the surface of the hot liquid and sipped. “Not necessarily. It’s just there are more confounding factors in this particular relationship than I’m used to dealing with, and I wanted to talk it out with you. I don’t want to transfer her in the midst of emerging issues.”

“I take it you haven’t been personally—socially—involved in any way.”

“No, Rebecca wouldn’t have that kind of a relationship with anyone she worked with, particularly a subordinate. Nor would I.”

“I think the very fact that you’re talking about it means you’ll be particularly sensitive to boundary issues. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Hazel rested her mug on the corner of her desk. “So, how are things with you and the detective sergeant?”

“The detective sergeant is now a detective lieutenant. She just told me earlier today.”

“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It is. I think.” Catherine shook her head. “It’s not what I thought it would be. I just assumed her promotion would mean she’d be doing mostly administrative work. Instead, they’ve given her command of some special unit to investigate high-profile crimes. That doesn’t sound an awful lot safer than what she’s been doing.”

“Her job still worries you,” Hazel observed matter-of-factly.

Just as honestly, Catherine answered. “Yes. It does. She goes to work every morning to a job where someone might try to kill her. I freely admit, I’m not well-adjusted to it.”

Hazel smiled. “You sound a little angry. That’s better than depressed, which was how you sounded the last time we talked about it.”

Catherine huffed out a breath. “I suppose I’m moving toward acceptance, but I don’t think it’s ever going to be easy.”

“I can’t imagine that it ever could be. Are you happy with her?”

“Oh God, yes,” Catherine replied instantly. “I…” She blushed. “I’m madly in love with her.”

“Wonderful.”

“We’ve talked about living together.”

“That’s news.”

“I’m ready,” Catherine said. “But I’m not sure that Rebecca is. Rather, I’m not sure that Rebecca
thinks
she is.”

“She’s afraid to disappoint you.”

Catherine jerked, startled. “How did you know?”

“A better question is, how did you
not
know?”

“Oh,” Catherine muttered with obvious frustration. “I hate it when we get to this point in these conversations.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. “I did know. I
do
know. I just want her to realize that I’m different from the other women she’s been with.”

“I imagine she knows that,” Hazel said gently. “What she doesn’t realize is that
she’s
different with
you
than she’s been with anyone else. When she can see that, she’ll trust herself with you.”

“I’m having some sort of territorial reaction, aren’t I?” Catherine gave a rueful laugh. “I can’t believe I’m jealous of women I’ve never even met.”

“Perfectly natural.”

“Relationships certainly do bring our hidden fears rushing to the surface, don’t they?”

“Being in love definitely does.” Hazel stood and moved around her desk toward Catherine. When Catherine rose, Hazel put a friendly arm around her shoulders and together they walked toward the door. “You sound like you have a very firm hold on everything that’s happening, both with your young police officer and your new lover. Trust your judgment. I always have.”

“Thank you. I’m going to trust
your
judgment on this, because sometimes where Rebecca is concerned I have no perspective at all.” Catherine returned Hazel’s hug and, feeling lighter of heart, left to face the rest of her day, looking forward to her evening with her lover.

*

“Come on, honey, get into bed with me.”

Sandy folded her arms across her chest and regarded Dell suspiciously from the doorway. “What did you take?”

“Whatever Jason gave me.” Mitchell pointed to several prescription vials on the bedside table. “He said I was supposed to take them.”

“Whatever it was, it made you high.”

“Nuh-uh.
You
do that.”  Mitchell patted the bed beside her and grinned. “If you cuddle up with me, I’ll take a nap like I’m supposed to.”

“You’re going to want to fool around.”

“Nah. I won’t.”

“You’re lying, Dell.”

“Maybe.” Mitchell held out her hand. “Come on, honey. Please?”

“Just for a few minutes.” Sandy slipped out of her sandals as she walked to the bed and, with practiced efficiency, shed her top and skirt as well and arrived at the bedside nude. “What?”

“You’re so hot.” Mitchell’s voice was hoarse, her eyes huge as her gaze drifted down Sandy’s figure. “Stand right there.”

“What are you doing? You know we can’t, not with your leg the way it is.”

“Shh. I’m just looking.”

“Then how come it feels like you’re touching?”

“Must be ’cause I want to so much.”

Sandy’s hips gave a small involuntary jerk. “Shut up, Dell. There’s no way we can do anything.”

“Every time I see you, it’s like…wow.”

“Well, you’re done lookin’, rookie.” Sandy lifted the sheets and slid into bed, pulling the covers to her shoulders. She turned on her side and propped her head in one hand, resting the other on Mitchell’s abdomen. “Close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“How come you covered up?”

“You know why. You turn me on bad when you look at me the way you just did.”

“Yeah?” Mitchell leaned over, nudged the sheet aside with her chin, and kissed Sandy’s breast just above her nipple. “So are you now?”

“Uh-huh.” Sandy arched her back and drew her tense nipple across Mitchell’s lips. “Kiss me there.”

With a quiet moan, Mitchell closed her mouth on Sandy’s small breast and sucked. When Sandy’s fingers trembled in her hair, holding her head closer, she used her teeth. When Sandy’s breathing caught, stuttered to a stop, and then picked up again, rapid and shallow, Mitchell teased her fingers up and down the center of Sandy’s abdomen, making the muscles jump and twitch.

“You like that?” Mitchell beat her tongue back and forth across the tip of Sandy’s nipple. “Baby?”

“Yesss.” Sandy fisted her hand in Mitchell’s hair and pulled. “Stop. Dell, stop.”

Trembling, Mitchell laid her cheek in the hollow between Sandy’s breasts, fighting to contain the wild urge to taste her everywhere. The tips of her fingers rested just at the edge of the silken strands between Sandy’s thighs, and she struggled not to slide her fingers lower into the thick wet heat that she knew awaited her. Sandy’s heart raced beneath her ear like a frantic rabbit running from a fox. Fearful that she gone too far too fast and forced Sandy into a place that wasn’t pleasure, but pain, Mitchell asked gently, “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

Sandy made a strangled sound, half sob, half laugh. “Sometimes…when you’re touching me…it feels so good that I get confused.”

“Confused?” Mitchell didn’t move, didn’t change the inflection or tone of her voice. She listened with all her heart, wanting nothing more than to understand what this one woman needed from her.

“When your mouth is on me like that…I can’t tell where you are, but I can feel you everywhere inside of me…touching me in places I know you can’t be touching me. I feel like I’m going to break, Dell. And I don’t know what will happen if I do.”

“I won’t let you,” Mitchell promised fervently. “I’ll be right here. I’ll hold you.”

Sandy inched down on the bed until her face was even with Mitchell’s. She looked into Mitchell’s eyes. “I believe you. I do. But…no one’s ever made me feel what you do.” She laughed harshly. “God, I never wanted anyone to make me feel
anything
when they touched me.”

“I love you.”

“Even knowing…what I am?”

“What
are
you, Sandy?” Mitchell’s lips were almost touching Sandy’s. She stroked Sandy’s hips very gently with just the tips of her fingers.

“You know, Dell. I trade sex for money.”

“When was the last time?”

“You don’t want to know these things.”

“Yes,” Mitchell said quietly, but firmly. “I do.”

“A week or so ago. A couple of car jobs down on Arch.”

Mitchell never stopped her gentle caresses. “Before you signed on with Frye as her CI?”

Sandy nodded. “She told me it was part of the deal…that I don’t hook.”

“And that’s the reason you stopped?”

This time, Sandy shook her head in the negative. “It wasn’t for Frye.”

“Why then?”

“I don’t know,” Sandy whispered. “After that psycho murdered Anne Marie, I quit everything except the quick stuff. Too much can happen when you’re alone in a room with a guy.”

Mitchell blinked. “That was months ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you’re done with it?”

“Are you asking?”

“Not yet.” Mitchell moved her hand from Sandy’s hips to her belly and continued her soft caresses. “But I can’t think about anyone else touching you.”

“Don’t think about it. Please.” Sandy traced her fingers over the arch of Mitchell’s cheekbone and down along the angle of her jaw. She very gently rested her fingers against Mitchell’s mouth. “No one touches me except you.”

“Someday,” Mitchell whispered, “I’m going to have to ask.”

“Dell,” Sandy said softly. “I won’t lie to you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then don’t ask about what you don’t want to know, okay?”

“For now.” Mitchell kissed Sandy gently. “Can I look at you some more now?”