Provoked (3 page)

             
Detective Riley Briggs—a cocky detective who believed he had nine lives.
His lieutenant always said that. He had more suspensions under his belt, for not following protocol, than one could count on both hands. His partner, Steve, had been no different. Unfortunately, the last defiance took his life. That memory haunted Riley, but he never admitted it to anyone, especially to Dr. Richards. Maybe she was right. Maybe he needed to open up. At least he’d get back on the street.

              Riley sat as his assigned desk, with no desire to work through the pile of folders in front of him. Memories of the night before continued to keep him distracted. He wondered if it was because he discovered Basia was a cop or if she’d had some effect on him. Either way, she’d completely affected his focus. He knew he shouldn’t see her again.

              The night before, he thought a drink would settle the anxiety he had about his return to work, without Steve. When she walked into the bar, her long legs grabbed his attention immediately. Her beautiful eyes intoxicated him when she sat on the barstool next to him. The intense blue shimmered off every fraction of light that hit them.  Her short, tight dress enhanced every sensuous curve of her toned body, but in a classy and sophisticated way. Her attitude announced complete confidence and heightened the instant attraction he felt in his groin.

              “Hi,” she simply stated, and ordered a scotch before he could even offer her a drink.

              He politely returned the greeting with, “Hi.” Riley watched her take the first sip seductively. He squirmed in his seat as she wet her lips before the glass reached them, and then again after her sip. He hadn’t been with a woman since he’d been shot. Her presence next to him quickly brought about the idea of a one-night stand. It would definitely be better medicine for his anxiety than the scotch he held in his hand.

              “It’s been said—drinking alone is never good.” She smiled.

His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t even given her his best line and things were looking good.

              “Never.” He cheered his glass to hers.
Come on, Riley. You haven’t said more than two words since the woman sat down. You really expect to get laid without at least one of your best lines?
He almost choked on his own thought as she continued.

              “Man of a few words?” Her thick Polish accent only enhanced his attraction to her.

He laughed, “Just a rough night, I guess. Usually you’d have to shut me up.”

              “I see. You are a man with a lot of pick-up lines?”

A slight chuckle told him she didn’t want to hear any of them.

              “I try. Some of them are actually pretty good. I’ve had great success, not that I’m bragging.”

              He felt at ease with her. Still, he found it hard to read her. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to tease him, fuck him, or blow him off.

              “I’m sure you have. I’ll be honest. I don’t want to hear any of them. But I would like to buy you a drink.” She raised an eyebrow and added, “Oh—and I only allow first names. No personal information required. Deal?”

Okay. She’s not ready to blow me off. Definitely a tease and if I follow her rules—guess I’m getting laid.
Riley motioned to the bartender with two fingers for refills.

              “I can handle your rules. I’m Riley.” He cheered her glass.

              “I love a cooperative man. Nice to meet you, Riley, I’m Basia.”

              “Detective Briggs?”

              Riley snapped out of his daydream. “Yes?” He looked up to find a short, well-groomed, young man standing before him. He looked as though he’d just come from the academy until he introduced himself.

              “Detective Kennedy—welcome to the thirty-seventh.” The man extended his hand to shake Riley’s. “If there’s anything you need, let me know.”              

              Riley nodded. From the corner of his eye, he saw the door open and he turned. Lieutenant Lis stepped out of the office and caught Riley’s stare. A simple nod with no smile told him they were not going to talk about last night. She remained professional. Riley reminded himself he should remain that way as well.

              “She’s a cold bitch. Then again,
she’s a lieutenant
. We’ve bet on whether she likes men. Get my drift?”

              Riley heard the office politics in one sentence. He wondered if Kennedy was sexist when he stressed s
he’s a lieutenant.
Riley chuckled within.
Oh, she definitely likes men. And I think hot is more appropriate for her than cold.
Riley turned to him, smiled, and nodded. One thing he knew for sure: his place here was temporary. He may as well get along and be agreeable.

              “Thanks for the heads-up.”

              Lieutenant Lis poured her coffee and looked over once more, but this time her glance directed at Kennedy. Without a word, he retreated to his desk. That told Riley she had their respect, no matter what they thought of her. He felt more than respect for her. That thought scared him. One hot, steamy night with her wouldn’t leave his mind. A confirmed bachelor married to his career, he’d had many one-night stands, but Basia was different than other women. She was sexy, confident, and mysterious. He wanted more. He wanted to know more about her. For some reason, she was difficult to erase from his mind. Perhaps her rule of first names only had intrigued him. He loved her accent. Her thick Polish accent told him she hadn’t grown up in New York.
Riley knew there’d be no chance in hell he’d get a second night with her.
The only things he knew about her were her name and occupation; though he’d never wanted to know any more about a woman. It didn’t matter now; he knew he’d have to keep it professional.

Riley poured his third cup of coffee. An hour had passed since he’d been introduced to Basia and assigned to his desk. He looked at the pile of folders on there. A date stood out on one of them. It brought back the memory of the night he’d been shot and his partner killed. He set his coffee down and reached for the file. He read it. What shocked him—her address. A block away from where the shooting happened.
Tragedies on the same night, one block apart.
He wondered if there’d be any connection. He searched in the report for a contact. Something intrigued his investigative mind to start with this one. He found Adam Crawford’s name and number. He picked up the phone. If anything, he’d get the heck out of the office. Riley felt like a caged rat. A desk job wasn’t his thing. He needed something to get his mind off
her
too.

“Crawford Property”  

“Detective Riley Briggs here, you reported a missing person, Mr. Crawford?” Riley flipped back through the file for the name. “Beth Wilson,” he added. 

“Yes. Have you found her?” Riley heard compassion in the man’s voice.  

“No, I'm sorry. I have a few questions. May I come by this morning?”

“I already told the police everything I know.”

The compassion in the man’s tone had disappeared. Riley wondered why he’d initially sounded concerned.

“Did you know Beth?” Riley questioned. 

“No. I was her landlord.”

The man mentioned he’d be at the brownstone all day and to call when he arrived. Riley thanked him. He thought about Adam’s choice of past tense
was her landlord
.

“Lieutenant?” Riley knocked on the opened door. Both lieutenants were deep in conversation. Basia looked up. Her dark lashes lifted and the bluest eyes hit him hard.

“Yes?” Lieutenant Fields asked.

Riley reminded himself to remain professional and ignore the sudden urge to take Basia right there on the desk. He cleared his throat and shook that thought.

“I’m heading out to question the man who reported a missing person.”

              “It’s good to see you take the initiative, Detective. I know you don’t want to be here, and it may not be as exciting as homicide or an undercover drug op, but I’m grateful to have your help here. Take Kennedy with you.”

              Fields politely thanked him. He wondered what the hell he meant by grateful. Missing Persons didn’t need a detective from the undercover drug operations task force.

The one thing Riley knew for sure was that he’d had the most unbelievable night of passion. The repetitive thoughts about the night before scared him, thinking he had feelings for her. Riley wanted more. More time with Basia. He wanted to know more about her but sensed her heart to be cold and locked. Besides the fact that they worked together, her body language disclosed professionalism. Riley knew a relationship would be impossible, but he still read undeniable attraction in her expressive eyes. It gave him a glitch of hope. Hope that when he’s back on the street, another night with her might be possible.

                                                                                    ****

              Basia’s focus went back to the paperwork on her desk before Riley closed the door. Once she heard it shut, she looked up again. Through the blinds she watched his ass walk toward Kennedy.
He does look good in jeans
. Last night fogged her concentration. She found it difficult to get Riley off her mind. She’d had one-night-stands before. In fact, that’s all she ever allowed herself since she left Poland. She swore she’d never have another serious relationship. She’d convinced herself that part of her died when she ended her husband’s life. Her career was her life.
Once is enough, Basia. Don’t screw things up. Two nights with the same man only leads to complications.

              She never allowed herself to trust a man completely, so she kept to one-night stands with her rule of
first-names-only
. Not that she had many. She’d continuously punished herself for her husband’s death. She knew she’d committed murder. She should be behind bars instead of putting others there. What she’d done haunted her night and day, but she continued to assure herself that she had no other choice. She wanted to live. She had her career and that would be enough, or so she thought until she met Riley.

              After Darek’s memorial, she spent a month in her parents’ home, sorting through memories, mostly of her parents. Anything of Darek’s she donated to charity. Basia didn’t want one ounce of his memory left in her home. He’d killed her parents; rigged the brakes on their car, which led them off the mountain road that tragic night. She confided to no one. Though she’d heard him confess that day on the phone, she had no proof. Not one so-called friend of Darek’s had shown for the memorial. He had no family and she assumed his drinking buddies had been just that. At first, she wanted to sell the family home. She had no desire to return to Zakopane, but something kept her from listing the home for sale. A month after Darek’s death, she received a call from her former boss in New York.

              “Basia, how are you holding up?”

              “Lieutenant, how nice to hear from you; I’m okay. It’s been rough. I hadn’t expected to return to Poland to bury my parents, and then my husband.”

              Lieutenant Ron Matthews first met Basia in the last year of her forensics degree. Her internship with his team had impressed him. She enjoyed using forensics to help the police force put away criminals and decided on a career with NYPD. Ron personally recommended her to the academy and then offered her a job on his team. After more than a decade on his team, they’d become close. Ron had called her as soon as he’d heard about her parents’ deaths. By then, Basia announced the news of her engagement. She called him a couple of weeks after Darek’s death and mentioned she might return to New York. He’d been her mentor. She loved working on his team.

              “You mentioned, the last time we spoke, you’d thought about returning to New York. Is it still your plan?”

              Basia smiled with hope that a position on the team had become available. There was nothing left in Poland for her. Not that she’d made a lot of friends in New York, except for the waitresses she spoke to daily at the diner. Her team had been her family there. With her parents gone, she wanted to return to her American family.

              “Yes, of course; did a spot come up on the team?”

              “The reason for my call; I just announced my retirement for next month. With your approval, I’d like to refer you for the position. I’ve already spoken to the department head, and it’s yours if you want it.”

              Her prayers had been answered. It was the best news she’d received with all the tragedy that had taken place upon her return to Zakopane.

              “But, I resigned almost a year ago. Can I easily come back? And, with a promotion?”

              “You didn’t actually resign. I put in a year’s leave of absence and told them you were going to Poland for family reasons. I wanted to make sure Poland was where you wanted to be. I’d hoped you would decide to come back.”

              Basia took a deep breath. She could return to New York and leave Zakopane and the tragedies that haunted her. “I don’t know what to say.”