KCPD Protector (15 page)

The whole building vibrated with a low-pitched drum roll of thunder that lasted several seconds. And maybe it was just Elise’s imagination, but the building seemed to be swaying with the wind. “Has anyone checked the weather report lately?”

James straightened. His blue eyes flickered over her, perhaps gauging her concern, perhaps judging her for refusing to take his hand. “Something bad’s coming. You feel it, too, don’t you.”

Elise shivered. The barometric pressure must have suddenly dropped. “I was hoping for something a little more scientific.”

George patted her shoulder and nodded to her desk. “Why don’t you get online—see if there are any new watches or warnings we need to be aware of. I’ll show Mr. Westbrook out.”

She nodded and got up, relieved to have something to do besides sit there and wonder what James’s hand would feel like in a leather glove against her skin. Would there be a shock of recognition to the man on the Plaza?

“Goodbye, Lise,” James called after her.

She didn’t even care that he still had the damp towel draped around his neck. Until she was certain of his innocence—of any man’s innocence or guilt—she couldn’t afford to be too trusting or forgiving, or care too much that an old friend was hurting. “Bye, James.”

Pulling up the local weather, she cringed at the swath of dark red and orange that covered a good portion of the state line—including almost all of Kansas City.

When George strolled back in, he was rolling up the sleeves of his blue shirt. “The guy tells a good story.”

Elise glanced up. “Do you think James was making that up about his fiancée? He seemed so heartbroken.”

“It’d be a good way to gain your sympathy and trust, which is exactly what the sleazeball who’s trying to get his hands on you would do.” He arched a dark eyebrow. “You weren’t completely buying it, either. You wouldn’t touch him.”

George had noticed. That meant James had probably noticed the slight, too. “I kept thinking of the man who grabbed me on the Plaza. What if his grip felt the same?”

“All the more reason to shoo him out of here.” He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar next, a sure sign the man was getting down to some serious work. “I told Shane to escort him all the way downstairs and keep an eye on him until he leaves the building. The kid’s eager to do me a favor and get a good recommendation for making detective. Westbrook can wait in the lobby until the storm lets up.”

“And if that story’s legit and James’s grief is real?”

“Then it upset you. And I don’t like that, either.”

As much as she loved having George stand up to protect her, she could already see how letting their personal feelings into their working relationship was compromising their professionalism. “You’re the face of KCPD now, while the commissioner is gone. You can’t put me above—”

The lights in the room blinked off and on, a sure sign the weather was getting worse. Her argument died on her lips and she stood. The windows rattled beneath another assault of wind.

“That’s not good.” George moved to the window, peering out into the wall of rain and darkness there. “What have we got?”

Although Elise’s computer had shut down and was busy powering up again, she’d memorized the dangers swirling around them. “Thunderstorm warnings. Strong winds. Heavy rain. Several tornado watches in the area.”

He drummed his fingers against the windowsill.

“What are you thinking?” Elise asked.

“An ounce of prevention...” He brought his hand back to his gun and badge at his waist. Decision made, he faced her. “We need to move downstairs. Find out how many people are on the top floors and let’s send out a text and call advisory.”

The boss was back. This, she knew how to handle. “Right.”

She sat down at her computer and pulled up the program to issue a building-wide text and phone alert. She was pulling up a separate screen to get a list of personnel checked in on the top three floors when she heard wet shoes squeaking on the hallway’s marble floor.

Elise glanced up. “Shane’s not at his post to screen visitors.”

George warned her to stay put at her desk. With his hand on the butt of his gun, he moved toward the open door. “Keep working. I’ll check it out. Ah, hell.”

Courtney Reiter came through the doorway with her arms wide-open, and wrapped them around George. “Thank God I got here in one piece.”

With Courtney’s wet hair and dripping yellow trench coat soaking his clothes, George took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away. “This is not a good time, Court.”

The normally stunning blonde looked almost waifish as she clung to her ex-husband’s wrists. From this distance, Elise couldn’t tell if it was the rain or tears that left the other woman’s mascara running in rivulets down each cheek. “I could have been trapped in that elevator when the power went out. Do you have any idea how frightening that is? You know how scared I am of storms.”

“What are you doing here?” With a glance over Courtney’s head and a nod toward the closet, he instructed Elise to find them more towels.

“Where were you last night, George?” the blonde accused. “And don’t say working because I called here as well as your cell number and you never answered. I left messages and you never called me back. Did you see all that rain we had?”

“I was aware of the storm.” He draped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the hallway. “We’re in the middle of dealing with round two right now, so I’m going to ask you to leave. You can wait downstairs where it’s safe until the storm passes.”

The woman might appear helpless, but she was definitely persistent. With a quick turn, she spun free of George’s grasp and walked over to the sitting area. “The ground was so dry that the rain leaked right into the basement of our house.”

“Your house, Court—”

“It’s probably ankle deep by now.” She sat, nodding her thanks when Elise handed her a towel. And she kept right on talking as Elise gave George a towel to dab at his sleeves and shirtfront. “I had a creek running from one of those egress windows right through to the laundry room drain. I had to move all my storage boxes up onto shelves and two-by-fours. I needed your help and you weren’t...” Elise’s hands must have lingered too long on the towel George pressed against his shoulder. She turned to see Courtney staring right at her. “You were with her, weren’t you?”

Elise felt the stillness come over George’s body and recognized the quiet anger in him. Putting the towel in Elise’s hands, he nudged her toward her desk. “Get that alert sent out. Now.”

“Oh, my God.” Courtney smeared mascara across her cheek as she blotted her face with the towel. “I knew there was something going on between the two of you. Isn’t an affair with your secretary against departmental regulations?”

George took Courtney by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “Let it go. You and I aren’t married anymore.”

Smarting at the barb aimed squarely at her, Elise clicked Send, relaying the deputy commissioner’s order to close down shop and head for lower floors in the HQ building. “Message sent, sir.”

An accusation like George’s ex had made was exactly the sort of thing that could cost Elise her job, and make it difficult to get hired on someplace else. And, being labeled the woman who ignored the rules and slept with her boss wouldn’t do a whole lot for the personal reputation she’d worked so hard to rebuild.

“Good. Now make sure we’ve got our key files backed up and shut things down so we can head down, too.”

This time, Courtney couldn’t extricate herself from George’s firmer grasp. “In my head, I always knew you’d move on one day. But then, for so long, you never did. I guess I took it for granted that you and I... I made such a mistake when I left you, didn’t I.”

After tipping his head back in a frustrated sigh, George turned the curvy blonde to face him. “We’re ancient history, Court. I will always care about you, but I am never going to be in love with you again.”

“Are you in love with her?”

Elise froze at her desk, hugging a stack of files to her chest and waiting far too expectantly for George’s answer. Did he love her? Even this morning, when they’d been so close and had shared so much, he’d never said the words.

Her heart plummeted to her stomach. He didn’t say them now.

“I can’t be at your beck and call whenever you need something, Court. I’m tired of feeling guilty about not being there for you when I was starting my career and working the streets. There’s only so much penance a man can pay.” He turned her toward the door. “Now go. Be a grown-up. You need to learn to face your problems. I’ve got my own to deal with.”

When George walked back to his office, Courtney followed. “This isn’t fair, you know. You’re an executive now. You work at a desk. You go home every night.” She pointed to Elise who quickly went back to gathering files and shutting down the computer. “She doesn’t have to worry about whether or not you’re coming home at all, the way I did. It isn’t fair.”

“I’m the same man, Courtney.” George stopped in the doorway to his office and turned, plucking his badge from his belt and holding it up. “I’m still a cop. We’ll never fit.” His gaze drifted across the room to find Elise. He repeated the same phrase, his quieter tone turning it into some kind of vow, some kind of promise, to her. “I’m a cop.”

Elise narrowed her gaze, questioning the message he was sending.

But before he explained, before she understood, he snapped his badge back into place and offered Courtney a rueful smile. “You didn’t want a cop then. And you don’t want one now. You wanted an executive. I’ve got the trappings now, but it’s not me. Underneath the suit and tie, I’m still just a cop.”

“No, you’re—” Whatever Courtney was about to say ended with a startled shriek.

The tornado sirens went off.

Chapter Ten

A clap of thunder exploded overhead, shaking the building so badly, it felt as if a bomb had gone off. It knocked over Spike’s picture on her desk and Elise gripped the back of her chair. Courtney screamed and covered her ears, collapsing into the door frame beside George. “It’s so loud. I can’t stand it when it’s so loud.”

“We need to get to the storm shelter!” George shouted above the wail of the sirens. “Emergency procedure alpha, now!”

Elise nodded. She pulled her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk and dropped Spike’s picture inside. Then she opened the center drawer to retrieve her emergency two-way radio and a bracelet full of keys she slipped onto her wrist.

George took Courtney by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. “Take the stairs all the way to the basement, Court. The men’s and women’s locker rooms, firing range and workout facilities are down there. Someone will show you where to go. You’ll be safe.”

Courtney latched on as soon as George let go. “You’re not coming?”

He looked over Courtney’s shoulder to Elise. “You’ve got your building access keys?”

Raising her arm, Elise jangled her wrist. She looped her bag over her shoulder and picked up the phone to dial the prearranged number to Cliff Brandt at the utilities office. “Everything on our hard drives is backed up to remote servers. Do you want me to put the flash drives in my purse and take them with me?”

“Negative.” George left his ex-wife leaning against the wall and ran into his office to retrieve his own radio and a flashlight. When he came back he was tucking his cell phone into his pocket. “One of those lightning strikes must have taken out the cell tower on the roof. I’ve got no reception.”

Courtney whimpered as a flash of lightning lit up the sky and the thunder retaliated with another boom. Elise put the phone on speaker mode as the utilities director answered.

“Cliff?” George leaned over her desk to speak. “I need to know if we’ve got any blackout areas.” They both turned to the pounding of footsteps in the marble hallway. Other staff heading for shelter? George thumbed over his shoulder, urging her to join them, and returned to his call. “If there are sections of the city without televisions or working sirens, I want to dispatch units to get people to shelter immediately.”

“Sir?” Shane Wilkins appeared in the doorway from the hall, his chest heaving with deep breaths. When he spotted George and Elise, he jogged into the room. “We’ve got to get out of here. Doppler radar spotted a rotating storm cell south of here. Heading northeast. Right for the city. Spotters on the ground already reported a funnel cloud touching down on the Kansas side of the river.”

George straightened. “What the hell are you doing up here? Did Westbrook go out in this? I want to keep eyes on that guy.”

Shane turned to Elise, as if his superior officer hadn’t understood the urgency of his announcement. “Look, I ran up here to let you guys know. The elevators are shut down already. We’re right in the storm’s path. The tornado is coming here. Downtown K.C.”

“You ran up eight flights of stairs?” Elise asked, astounded by the effort he’d made to warn them.

The uniformed officer nodded. His nostrils flared as he regained control of his breathing after his wind sprint. “Cell reception is spotty. Except for Dispatch, landlines are for outgoing or station-to-station calls only during an emergency, not personal calls within the building. You guys are my responsibility. I volunteered.”

Elise smiled her thanks for his dedication to his duty and squeezed his arm. “You’re one in a million, Shane.”

George jotted down the information he needed and ended his call. He tore off the note and handed it to Elise. “Go. Get on your radio to Dispatch and tell them to send a unit to these areas. Tell them no heroics, on my command. The officers make the announcement, then get to shelter themselves. That goes for you, too.” He grabbed Elise’s hand, giving it a subtle squeeze as he pulled her toward the door and released her. She stopped. He wasn’t coming with her? No, he was looking up at the blond-haired officer. “Wilkins?”

“Sir.” Shane snapped to attention.

George poked the center of his flak vest. “No. Heroics. I’m not planning on losing any of my men today.” He held up his own radio. “You should have used one of these instead of running up here.”

“Oh. Right.” The younger man’s shoulders sagged. “I knew that. I guess I just wanted to see for myself that you all were okay.”

“You’re too young to know you’re not invincible yet.” Shaking his head, George tucked his radio onto his belt and pocketed his flashlight. “But I do need you to do something for me.”

“Sir?” Shane’s dull green eyes brightened with the chance to redeem himself in his commanding officer’s eyes.

“I want you to do a room-to-room search up here to make sure the entire floor is evacuated. Radio the guards on each level to do the same and get everyone to the basement ASAP. Including yourselves. And remember, this is no drill. Be thorough, but be fast.”

“I’m on it.” Striding past Elise, Shane turned his mouth to the radio on his shoulder, relaying George’s order.

George nearly ran into Elise when he turned back to his office. His look included both her and Courtney. “What are you two still doing here? I gave you an order.”

Her worries about departmental regulations and forbidden relationships didn’t seem important right now. She splayed her hand on the left side of his chest, seeking out the familiar, strong beat of his heart. “Why aren’t you leaving? He said the storm was heading right for us.”

George covered her hand with his, sealing this powerful connection between them. “I’m a cop, remember? And with the commissioner off the clock, I’m the one in charge. I’m going to back up Shane. Make sure all the floors are clear. Time is of the essence.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he leaned in and captured her mouth in a kiss. It was sweet and urgent and perfect. He raised his lips to her forehead and kissed her again before releasing her. “Don’t worry. I’ll meet you in the basement.”

“You’d better.” She curled her fingers around his tie, holding on a moment longer. “Or else, I’ll come looking for you.”

“Always keeping me on task, aren’t you.” He smiled and gave her one more hard, quick kiss, before hurrying past her out the door. “Wilkins!” he called out. “Give me your twenty.” He disappeared to the left and was gone.

“You really do love him, don’t you?”

Elise turned to the blonde woman. Courtney was a pale shadow of her usual beauty, with her dark gaze leaping to the window at every gust of wind. But even though her observation was on target, Elise’s feelings were too fragile, maybe even too futile to admit to anyone.

“George is counting on us to do our job, Ms. Reiter, so he can do his.” Although she imagined that hers was not the help Courtney wanted, Elise crossed the room and linked their arms together, pulling the woman into step beside her. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”

Coaxing the frightened woman along every step of the way, Elise hurried as fast as they could to the stairwell beside the elevator. She radioed the information George requested to Dispatch and tucked her radio into her purse. With every flight of stairs, they joined more officers, visitors, administrators and support staff on their way down to the basement. With every floor they descended, the concussive noise of the wind and rain and the scream of the warning siren faded.

Elise led Courtney down the last flight of stairs into a crowded hallway where a uniformed officer directed them into the men’s locker room. Another officer there told them to find a seat against the concrete block wall near the showers.

“All these people work here?” Courtney seemed to be realizing for the first time just how many dedicated men and women worked for the police department.

“Most of them.” Elise helped the other woman off with her yellow coat. While Courtney folded it up to make a cushion for herself on the concrete floor, Elise stretched up on tiptoe to scan all the faces for any sign that George had made it safely down to the shelter with them. There were a lot of people crowding into the rooms down here. “This is just the headquarters and Fourth Precinct building. Each of the precincts employs almost as many people.”

“And George is in charge of all of them?”

“Until Commissioner Cartwright-Masterson comes back to work, yes.” Was Courtney just now beginning to understand the responsibilities her ex-husband carried on his shoulders? Could she comprehend that he needed a partner who could be a help to him, and not a drain on his time and emotional energy? “Do you see him anywhere?”

Instead of finding that distinguished dark hair spattered with silver, she spotted a familiar head of blond hair slicked back with water—and the beige towel from her office draped around the man’s neck. Elise climbed over a bench to reach him before he turned the corner. “James?”

“Lise.” He stepped out of the line he’d been following and excused his way back to her.

“I thought you’d left.” She hated the feeling crawling up her skin when a group she recognized from the tech squad jostled past her. Despite their apologies and a forgiving smile from her, she was developing a serious phobia about crowds of people.

“Here.” James helped her get back across the bench and out of the flow of human traffic. “The siren went off before I could get to my car. An officer in the lobby instructed me to come down here.”

“You mean Officer Wilkins.”

“I didn’t catch her name.” Her? Definitely not Shane. “You mean the tall guy who escorted me out? He ran off like he had a mission of some kind.”

Elise felt a tug at the hem of her dress. “Who’s your friend, Elise?”

“Oh, this is Courtney Reiter. This is—” she hoped this could still be the truth “—my friend. James Westbrook.”

When they shook hands, Courtney held on to pull herself up. “Nice to meet you.”

James nodded. “Pleasure.”

“Are you a police officer?”

He shook his head. “Financial consultant.”

“Really?” Did Elise imagine the healthy color that seeped into Courtney’s face? “No gun? No badge?”

“No.” He released Courtney’s hand and turned to Elise. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened upstairs. I guess I’m a bigger mess than I realized. I lost Marta, I left my job. I know you’re going through something now and you needed me to be there and I wasn’t—”

“Let’s not talk about that now.” She glanced around the room at all the anxious faces. The building was rattling above their heads. The sirens were still sounding their warning. “We have bigger things to worry about right now.”

“May I have your attention, please! Everyone!” A black man with streaks of gray in his hair and a badge hanging around his neck shouted above the noise in the room. Elise recognized Joe Hendricks, the fourth precinct watch commander—probably the highest ranking officer in the room. Instantly, the conversations fell silent and people stopped moving to listen. “We’ve been keeping up on the latest weather updates. At this time, I need everyone to have a seat against the wall. If your back’s not against a concrete block. Find one.”

The three of them sat on the floor while Captain Hendricks gave more orders regarding radio silence except for certain officers, and head counts for staff and guests. With Courtney wedged in the middle, Elise scooted closer, allowing as much room as possible to accommodate everyone taking shelter here.

Without a roomful of voices echoing off the concrete walls, Elise could hear the wind raging above them. She wondered what kind of devastation was raining down on the city. And she worried that George was still upstairs somewhere, facing the storm head-on. And then...silence.

Elise’s breath caught in her chest. Everyone in the room seemed to be looking upward, holding their breaths.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder, she felt Courtney shivering beside her. “Why is it so quiet?”

Elise hugged her purse to her chest, warding off the dreadful anticipation that twisted her stomach into knots. “The rain stopped.”

Courtney raised her voice above a whisper. “That’s good, right? Now they’ll turn off that horrid siren.”

Elise shushed her. “No. That silence is very bad.”

James nudged Courtney’s shoulder with his, trying to cajole her out of her fears. “The tornado is close enough to suck up all the rain. I remember a storm like this when I was a kid growing up east of here.”

“Really?” Courtney turned her attention to James. “You’ve survived one of these before?”

“Yeah.”

“Could I...?” She looped her arm through James’s and leaned against him. “Could I hold on to you? I’m afraid of storms.”

“Sure.” When James looked over Courtney’s head, Elise shrugged.

Why not? It wasn’t as if this wasn’t already the strangest week of her life. James needed a new project to focus on—and Courtney Reiter was definitely a project. It was almost a relief to see him put his arm around Courtney’s shoulder and hug her to his side.

“We’ll be fine down here,” he assured her. “All these reinforced walls? Below ground level? We’ll be safe.”

Not all of them were safe.

“Captain Hendricks said to do an office roll call, right?” She really didn’t need anyone to answer. “We’re all here. Where’s George?”

I’ll meet you in the basement.

You’d better. Or else, I’ll come looking for you.

Something wasn’t right. As surely as she had known an intruder had violated her bedroom, a man had followed her into a restroom during a blackout and that any of a dozen different weird events had been real threats and not tricks of her imagination, she knew that George was in trouble. It was her job to take care of him, just as he’d made it his job to protect her.

“Will you look after Courtney, James? Make sure she stays safe?” She slid the bracelet of keys up her arm, tucked the radio into her pocket and pushed herself up the wall to her feet.

He nodded. “Where are you going?”

She dropped her purse in her spot so she could move quickly through the room without hitting anyone. “To the other locker room. George isn’t in here. I need to make sure he’s safe.”

Perhaps a sharp-eyed wariness or determined purpose to her movements made others lean back or pull their feet out of her path as she stayed as low to the floor as she could while stepping over the bench and circling around several banks of lockers. But every “Excuse me” she uttered, every nod she traded, put her no closer to spying any sign of a damp blue shirt or that salt-and-pepper hair.