Shades of Temptation (12 page)

“What about me? You wanted to open yourself up to me, not the
other way around. Besides, I have nothing to share.”

But even as she said it, she knew she was lying. And she could
tell that he knew it, too. Before he could call her on it, however, her phone
rang.

“Special Agent Ward,” she answered.

“Detective Ward? This is Officer Ian Bellows at SFPD. There’s
been some trouble at your house.”

Her eyes widened and she glanced at Jase, who was frowning.
“Trouble?”

“Vandalism, ma’am. Or more specifically, arson.” As she
listened to Bellows recount the details, Carrie felt the color slowly drain from
her face. She reached out a hand as if to steady herself, which was odd given
she was already sitting down.

“Carrie—” Jase began.

“I—I’ll be right there,” she told Bellows. Shakily, she hung up
the phone. She tried to get in enough air, but she suddenly felt as if she was
suffocating.

Immediately, Jase was at her side. “What is it?”

“My house,” she said, still stunned. “Someone threw a Molotov
cocktail through the window. It was firebombed. The fire department’s there but,
according to the officer who just called, it’s bad.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

A
S
J
ASE
STOOD
NEARBY
, Carrie spoke with Officer Ian Bellows and
the lead firefighter outside her house. From the street, the place looked fine,
but the inside was a different matter. The fire department had gotten there in
time to stop the fire from spreading, but Carrie’s living room was charred and
smoking. Ironically, the files spread out on her dining-room table had been
spared, while the photo albums and other personal items in her bookshelves had
been lost.

“It was definitely arson,” the firefighter said. “We have
witnesses who saw a group of boys enter the building just before the fire began
and your front door’s been kicked in. From the descriptions we have of the boys,
it looks like gangbangers are involved.”

“Did they mention any particular gang?” Carrie asked.

Jase instantly understood. “Porter was in a gang.” It
infuriated him that even in death, Porter continued to put Carrie in danger. If
she’d been home when—

“Yes,” she said. She was pale, but her voice was calm. Still,
he’d seen the devastation on her face when she’d stared into her damaged home.
It had reminded him of her expression when Martha Porter had railed at her. And
though he knew she was tough enough to take it and recover just fine, he
resented the fact that she had to. If he could, if she’d let him, he’d do almost
anything to protect her from feeling pain again.

“Afraid not. And I’m sorry, but you’re not going to be able to
stay here for a while,” the firefighter said. “Not with this amount of damage.
I’ll give you the number of a good cleanup crew, but until they’re done—”

“She’ll stay with me,” Jase interrupted.

Carrie started. “What? No, I can’t.”

“Why not? It’s late. You don’t have anyplace to go. And we’ll
be seeing each other early tomorrow morning to get started on the case again. It
makes sense.”

She said nothing until the firefighter walked away, an amused
glint in his eye. “Sense is the last thing it makes, Jase, and you know it.”

“Why? Because of what happened this morning after I worked
out?”

“That and other things.”

“Afraid you can’t keep your hands off me?”

“Honestly? Yes. A foot massage is one thing. I’m not stupid
enough to think I can stay with you at your house and not have anything happen
between us.”

Her bluntness startled him, then filled him with pleasure. He
wanted to crow at her admission that she wanted him so badly, but he knew that
wouldn’t be wise. Instead, he said, “Let’s at least have dinner, then. We’ll
drive separately. You can go wherever you want after we’re done. How’s that
sound?”

He expected her to resist again, but she was obviously more
stunned by the evening’s events than she wanted to let on. With a sigh, she
said, “Fine. I guess I could eat. But first I need to finish up here.”

He waited while she got the number of that cleanup crew and
finished filling out some paperwork. It took about an hour, but then she was
ready to go.

“I’ll work on getting the place cleaned up beginning tomorrow.
They said it shouldn’t take more than a few days. Where do you want to eat?”

He suggested Ernesto’s, a Mexican restaurant with the best
salsa and guacamole in town, as well as a full bar. Since it was still early,
the normally packed restaurant was quieter than usual, but still busy enough to
provide background noise and soothe Jase’s raw nerves.

They ate their meals in relative silence. Part of it, he knew,
was because she was still in shock from having her home burn down. The other
part, however, was because she was distancing herself from him. Seeking solace
from the day’s incredibly disturbing events. He wanted to give her that comfort,
but at the same time he wanted to break through her protective walls.

More than once, Jase started to ask her about the panic attack
she’d had after the Porter woman had gone off on her. Somehow, he knew it hadn’t
been her first one. She’d been too controlled, both during and after it, as if
she’d had a lot of practice dealing with them. That thought didn’t sit well with
him.

He didn’t like to think of her in pain, emotional or otherwise.
But with what they did for a living, how could she not let it affect her? With
all the pain and tragedy she saw on the job, it was bound to seep into her on
some level. And whether she liked it or not, it had to affect her differently
because she was a woman. Didn’t it? Hell, he truly didn’t think of himself as a
chauvinist, but while he indisputably viewed her as a strong cop, he never
forgot she was a strong
female
cop. If that didn’t
make him a chauvinist, what would? Still, he wondered if she had anyone to talk
to. If she had a friend to confide in. To cry with or laugh with. Somehow he
didn’t think so.

For the first time, he truly saw how isolated Carrie’s life
must be. He felt a stabbing pain in his heart and realized what it was. Sadness
for her. And for him. Because he knew she deserved more. And he wasn’t sure if
he was capable of giving it to her.

He didn’t want to think of Carrie as sad or lonely.
Understandably, however, she still looked troubled. Hell, she’d just had the
mother of all bad days—something he’d unintentionally contributed to—and she’d
just been evicted from her home. Sure, she was handling it, but he could tell by
her distant expression that his plan to distract her from her troubles with
dinner hadn’t quite worked.

He wasn’t giving up, though. He wasn’t about to ask her about
her panic attacks or anything else that would make her retreat from him even
further. So he’d stick to the safest topics possible. For now.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled teasingly at her. “So
what’s your favorite color, flower and TV show?”

Startled, her gaze met his. “Are we going to play twenty
questions now?”

He shrugged. “What I know about you personally I only know from
sneaking a look at your photo albums. I need to do some catching up.”

She smiled just slightly, but it was enough. “Red, peony and I
don’t watch TV.”

“Not even cop shows?”

She shook her head and took another sip of her wine. “Are you
kidding? Sometimes they’re good for a laugh but that’s about it.”

“Tell me about it. It’s so much more complicated than TV
portrays. But you can give me the inside scoop on something. What was it really
like being on SWAT? Did you learn any cool SWAT secrets?”

“SWAT secrets? Like…?”

His plan was working, he thought. For the first time since
learning about the fire, her gaze seemed clear. Focused only on him. “I don’t
know. Anything us lowly special agents might not already know.”

She snorted. “‘Lowly’ is the last thing I’d describe you as,
Jase.”

“Good to know. But let’s be honest here. I’m a badass, sure,
but SWAT? That’s a whole other game altogether. So spill.”

Leaning forward, she crossed her arms on the table. “Well, they
gave us advanced training on hostage situations. Not only how to escape a
potential kidnapper, but how to work as a team. That’s one of the things I liked
about SWAT. That team feel that even being a part of SIG doesn’t satisfy.”

“So how would a team work to escape a kidnapper?”

“Let’s say a suspect takes me hostage and you’re there. He
orders you to drop your gun. We both know you can’t give it up, right?”

“Right. If the hostage is a civilian, it might be a different
story. But when another cop is involved, if it’s a choice between letting a
dangerous suspect get away to hurt others or saving a fellow cop, well, there’s
no choice, really.”

“But every department should have a signal for such a
situation. Something they can use against the bad guy.”

“And SWAT had such a signal. What was it?”

“Saying the captured officer’s middle name. We all knew that if
another cop said our middle name in a crisis, that was our signal to duck and
cover.”

“And what’s your middle name?”

“What’s yours?” she asked.

“Tit for tat?”

“Something like that.”

“David.”

“Jase David Tyler. That’s so…I don’t know…
normal.
That’s not fair,” she pouted. “Certainly not worth telling
you mine.”

With that exaggerated pout on her lips, he could almost
convince himself she was flirting with him. He decided to play along. “Why? You
have a strange middle name?”

“Maybe.”

Of course she wouldn’t give it up that easily. What would be
the fun in that? “You should tell me. Otherwise, how will I be able to give you
the signal if I need to?”

“I can always just give you a made-up name for that.”

True. But she also could have done that already. The fact that
she hadn’t pleased him. It was almost like she
wanted
him to pry the information from her.

But he didn’t have to. He already had it. And it was darn good
information. “But you won’t. Will you? Katherine Katrina Ward.”

Her eyes widened. “How do you know my full name?”

“It was on a page in your scrapbook. Kitty Cat. I like it.”

She crinkled her nose at him in an adorable gesture that almost
knocked him off his seat. “Yeah, well, that’s exactly why I never tell anyone my
real name. Carrie’s much more respectable.”

He cleared his throat and tried to remember why they were here.
So you can distract her from her troubles, Tyler, not
so you can get your hands all over her.
Yet that’s exactly what he
wanted. He wanted to get down and dirty with Katherine Katrina Ward, but she was
talking about being respectable. Or, at least, choosing a respectable name.
“Carrie’s not just respectable, is it? It’s androgynous. Which is what you would
have wanted when you joined the military. And the police academy. Right?”

She shook her head and finished her wine in one long swallow.
“Carrie was a nickname given to me by my brothers. Appearances to the contrary,
denying my femininity had nothing to do with it.” She stared at her empty
wineglass, the light mood they’d achieved evaporating.

Smooth move, Jase.
But before he
could answer, the waitress refilled Carrie’s glass. She took another sip of wine
and then leaned her chin on the palm of her hand. “You row, right? Why? Is it
just for the physical challenge?”

Instead of answering her, he took a sip of his own drink and
asked a question of his own. “Why did you decide to become an MP in the
army?”

She shrugged. “That’s easy. I wanted to help people. Serve my
country. Make a difference.”

He swirled the wine left in his own glass. “Yes, but you could
have done that a number of different ways. Become a teacher. Or a doctor. Why a
military cop? I mean, I know your dad was a cop and so were your brothers, but
shouldn’t that have made you less likely to become one, given you knew what a
tough job it was? And joining the military took things up a notch, didn’t
it?”

Seconds passed before she answered. When she did, her words
were slow and measured. “I knew I had a special gift with my shooting. It’s what
people seemed to validate the most. The fact that I was good at something that
most women weren’t. I guess I got used to that kind of adulation. Wanted it to
continue. And I’d always been more comfortable around guys. Things seemed less
complicated with them. I always knew where I stood. It seemed natural to pick a
male-dominated career. To prove that I could do that as well as any man.”

“Did the guys in the military respect you?”

She nodded. “For the most part. But it wasn’t until I made SWAT
that I thought I found my place in things.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I felt like an invaluable component. We were truly a
team, combining our strengths and watching each other’s backs.”

Her eyes lit up as she talked. It made him a little jealous of
what she’d shared with her SWAT team. SIG was a team, too, but a slightly
fractured one. They didn’t typically enter dangerous situations where the only
thing standing between them and possible death was their ability to rely on
their partners.

Despite the misgivings he still had about Carrie working The
Embalmer case, he had no qualms about her having his back. Ever. She’d give
everything she had to protect someone on her team, just as she’d give everything
she had to working a case.

He leaned forward. “What was the most challenging aspect for
you? When you tried out for the SFPD SWAT, I mean.”

“Physically?”

“Yes.”

She blew her hair out of her eyes. “I suppose it was the solid
six foot wall we had to climb over to pass the physical exam. I couldn’t do it
at first. Wasn’t sure if I ever could.”

“But you did.” Of course she had. He could picture her
training, determination stamped on every inch of her face as she worked on
overcoming anything that could be perceived as weakness on her part.

She nodded.

“And how did that make you feel?”

She didn’t hesitate to answer. “Powerful.”

Her answer didn’t surprise him. He’d felt that same power on
many occasions, too. It was part and parcel of being a cop. He could only
imagine how intense that power would feel when you were talking about the kind
of situations SWAT put you in. “So why’d you leave? You weren’t feeling powerful
anymore?”

She hesitated a few seconds before saying, “No. That wasn’t
it.”

“Then why?” As he waited for her to answer, he couldn’t help
but feel a bit of dread. Deep down, he knew why she’d probably left.

She shrugged. “Let’s just say that in the end, SWAT, especially
SFPD SWAT, wasn’t any more ready for female members than the military was.”

Her answer confirmed what he’d thought. It made complete sense
that her gender would have provoked others to challenge her. Still, the fact
that she’d actually allowed that to influence her… “I never would’ve pegged you
for a quitter. Not because someone was trying to run you off.”