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Authors: V. K. Powell

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BOOK: Suspect Passions
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She realized, with more than a moderate amount of surprise, that the words carried a double meaning. One was a professional concern for their ability to communicate easily and effectively about this case. The second was an uncomfortable desire to be physically closer to Syd. Something about this enigmatic woman yelled
sex
while simultaneously eliciting compassion and asking for help.

“Probably as necessary as the rest of this.”

Regan understood that Syd didn’t want to be in this situation. Reliving every detail of the shooting, exposing her unorthodox coping mechanisms, and waiting for a barrage of professional and personal judgments wouldn’t appeal to anyone. Steeling herself against further invasion into her life by giving as few details as possible was likely her method of self-defense.

“I’m really sorry about all this,” Regan said. “I can’t imagine how it makes you feel.”

“No, you can’t. Could we just get this over with, please? I’m meeting someone for drinks later and I don’t want to be late.”

Syd’s tone had changed from resignation to defensiveness, and the sharp contrast stimulated Regan’s Irish temper, reminding her just who she was dealing with. “Fine, let’s get started. Wouldn’t want you to be late for a date, now would we?” She could care less about Syd’s personal life. Her job was to defend the City of High Point, in spite of Sydney Cabot.

“Don’t you think we need to talk about something else first?”

“What did you have in mind, Officer Cabot?”

“The first time we saw each other.”

After a lengthy pause, Regan felt her face flush with heat. “If you’re referring to that scene at the Cop Out, I don’t believe it needs to be discussed. It was—unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate? That’s what you call a look that could send most women in search of a confessional?”

Regan’s skin prickled as the visual of that night returned. Syd’s screams of pleasure reverberated in her head. “I was merely surprised by two grown women behaving so irresponsibly. I hadn’t seen that type of behavior since college.”

“That look was way beyond surprise. But the point is, how do you feel about it now?”

Regan folded her arms across her chest, hoping Syd wouldn’t see the traitorous nipples dimpling beneath her sweater. “I don’t feel anything,” she lied. “It was an unfortunate first impression. Neither of us knew we’d be working together. And now that we are, it’s history and we move on.”

“There’s that word again.
Unfortunate.
I’ll tell you what’s unfortunate—you not staying longer that night so we could get acquainted. I think you wanted to, but you were too afraid.”

“Then you don’t know me very well. And as to who’s afraid of what, why don’t we get back to the business at hand, namely your civil suit. Are you ready to talk about that or do you want to continue this evasive banter in the hopes of intimidating me or getting your case reassigned?”

“I just thought we should clear the air. If we have to work together, I have a right to know that you’ll do everything you can to represent me without prejudice.”

“You have my word that I will represent you to the best of my ability, regardless of the circumstances of our first un…comfortable encounter. Now, can we please get to work?”

“Sure, so, why am I here?”

“I’ve asked the police chief to release your files to me for review and—”

“You’ve
what?

“If you’ll let me finish, I’ll be glad to explain.”

The anger Regan had seen in Syd’s eyes at their first meeting returned and burned even brighter. What was in these files that Syd didn’t want her to see? Was she one of those officers who got her kicks pushing the use-of-force policy? Regan didn’t think that was the problem. Besides, she’d already had a firsthand look at how Syd got her kicks.

The stately African-American woman’s back, rippling with sexual tension and power, flashed through Regan’s mind. She stifled a gasp at the memory of Syd’s thighs wrapped around that body. The vision of her humping and begging for more shot through her like a dose of pure adrenaline. She squeezed her legs together and wondered what evil deed in her past justified the physical torment visited upon her each time this woman was near.

She looked up into Syd’s waiting gaze and quickly glanced away. Even an unobservant woman would be able to see the desire that raged inside her, and Syd was trained to search for nuance. Regan wanted desperately to understand why her body had chosen this time and this woman to betray her meticulous control. Maybe years of a sexless relationship had finally taken its toll. Maybe the upheaval of living in a new place with a new job and no social outlets had rendered her vulnerable to even the most subtle hints of sexual interest.

“Counselor?”

Syd’s stare was a combination of innocence and temptation. At times her openness was intoxicating and at others she tested the bonds that tethered Regan to her tenuous patience. She wondered how many other women had wrestled similarly before Syd bedded them, wanting her and not wanting her, craving her and fighting to reject her. Whatever the reason for this push-pull of emotions, she had to stop the unproductive turn her mind and body had taken and get back to work.

“Yes, as I was saying, I’ve asked the chief for your files. I’ll be looking at your past uses of force, complaints, evaluations, supervisory remarks, and overall job performance. The purpose is to make a preemptive strike if necessary. The more I know about you and your history, the better I can defend you against anything the plaintiff’s attorney may dredge up. If there’s anything you think could be viewed as unfavorable, please let me know now.”

“I can’t think of anything.”

Regan regarded her with skepticism. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t tell me if there was. I can’t impress upon you enough how important it is for you not to keep anything from me.”

“I am unaware of anything in my file that would be cause for concern. But, then, I’m not an ambulance-chasing attorney hell-bent on destroying a hardworking cop’s life.”

The pain in Syd’s voice was covered by a thin coat of anger, but Regan had mastered the art of discerning the two emotions as a child. “That’s not the intended result but sometimes it certainly can be.” She took a sip from her Diet Coke and rolled the can between her palms. “I know this is difficult, but I need you to tell me about the night of the shooting, if you can.”

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Why didn’t you tell me before I came in?”

“I honestly didn’t think you’d show up if you knew.”

“You’re absolutely right. It’s a waste of time.” Syd rose from her seat and paced back and forth in front of the windows. “It’s all in the report. I’ve given my statement so many times I’ve lost count.”

“Yes, it’s all here, but I’d like to hear it from you.” Regan felt Syd bristle from across the room and braced herself for the response.

“What’s with you people, anyway?” Syd whirled on her as if prepared to strike. “Do you get some perverse pleasure out of putting me through this over and over? Why can’t you just read the damn file?”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I need to verify the repeated consistency of your version of the incident, and, more importantly, I need to get a sense of you as a witness.”

Anger and pain alternated in equal parts across Syd’s tortured face. “You mean I have to tell it again?”

“We hope that won’t be necessary, but it’s a possibility.”

Syd shook her head. “Is there no end to this?”

Regan knew the last question was rhetorical. She waited for Syd to calm enough to tell her story once again. This was a critical part of her case and could not be rushed.

“It was August twentieth and hot as hell.”

Syd’s voice was almost inaudible. Regan leaned closer but didn’t speak.

“Some of the shops at Oak Hollow Mall were having a sale. It was closing time. I got the call of a robbery in progress at Bradford Jewelers. They gave a description of the suspect. I rolled to the scene blacked out.”

Regan looked up from taking notes. “I’m sorry, blacked out?”

“I didn’t run lights or siren. It’s the recommended response if you’re close to an incident and don’t want to alert the suspect of your arrival. So, I parked out of sight of the entrance and approached on foot.”

Syd stopped and drew several deep breaths. “That night, it was hot and humid. I could hear the traffic on the surrounding streets and the calm of the mall parking lot. The area stunk of rotting garbage from the overfilled Dumpsters and stale beer from a nearby bar. Everything was sharply focused but in freeze-frame snapshots.

“I was flattened against the wall making my way to the entrance when the door burst open and the suspect ran out. He had a gun in one hand. I announced myself and told him to stop. He turned toward me, brought the gun up, and aimed it at me. There was no cover anywhere around me.”

Regan watched Syd swivel, looking for cover, as if reliving the event in real time. She had no frame of reference for the feelings that must have overtaken her.

“I hit the ground, yelling for him to drop the weapon. He kept aiming at me. I rolled out of his sight line and fired twice. Everything else was just aftermath.”

Syd stopped as if further explanation was unnecessary. Silence seeped into the stacks of books around them and swelled like a liquid invasion. Regan stared at her, amazed at the range of emotions that had played out on her face during the recitation. Now her shoulders sagged and she looked almost lost, her expression downcast and her brilliantly green eyes shadowed. Something in that look twisted Regan’s insides into a knot of confusion and hunger. Suddenly she was back in that alley denying accusations of jealousy, with Syd’s gaze burning her skin, seeing through her façade to the truth she didn’t want to admit.

“Syd,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry about the other night. I had no right to seek you out at the club. That was terribly unprofessional. Invading your privacy is not part of my job description and neither is trying to control your personal activities, sexual or otherwise.”

“You did that so easily, apologizing, I mean. It sounded as effortless as saying good morning when entering a room.” She seemed to be considering her next statement. “It’s not so easy for me, but I’m sorry for lashing out at you. It’s not your fault my life is in the crapper.”

“Still, I overreacted, made an assumption that was unwarranted.” Regan reached over and took Syd’s hands in hers. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this whole thing again.”

Regan felt heat rising between them and stood, intending to move away and return to work. She hesitated before asking her next question, knowing it had less to do with the case and more to do with her curiosity about Sydney Cabot. “Do you remember what you were feeling during the incident?”

“Feeling?” Regan’s hands were still on hers. She released their grasp, took a deep breath, and cupped Regan’s face in her palms. “
This
is how I feel now, and now is what matters.” She brushed her fingers over Regan’s bottom lip and tugged the moist, soft skin between her thumb and forefinger. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Regan felt as though her lips were on fire. The rush that accompanied Syd’s touch blazed deep inside. She was lost in green eyes that sparked heat but produced moisture in her most private places. Her hands moved upward to taut biceps that quivered with suppressed desire. Her body ignored all mental attempts at control, and she allowed herself to be pulled closer to Syd’s luscious mouth.

“Kiss me,” Syd whispered.

“Yes.” Regan thought the voice sounded like hers but the body response was definitely foreign. She felt the warmth of Syd’s breath on her face and inhaled her earthy fragrance. She waited to be consumed by the passion that was Syd, the passion she’d seen so freely shared and had so unabashedly craved since that night at the club.

The memory registered like a cold shower. She didn’t know this woman.
This
was what Sydney Cabot did. She seduced women to escape from her pain.
I won’t be one of them.
It took every ounce of energy Regan could summon to pull back. Her body screamed for connection, to be joined with the only thing she had lusted desperately for in her entire life. The thought itself was sobering.

“I can’t do this, Syd.” She walked toward the door, talking as she went. “Please check in tomorrow.”

In disbelief, Syd watched Regan move away from her. Their lips had been so close that she could almost taste the mixture of peppermint and cola on her breath. In the next instant she was gone. What had happened?

As she replayed the last few minutes in her mind, it became clear.
She
had happened, her typical response to anything that came close to feelings—divert and run. They’d shared a few honest moments, let their respective guards down, and then
bam—
she regressed into a hormone-driven, emotion-dodging, pitiful excuse for a human being. Uncomfortable feelings had started to surface and she burrowed further into her protective shell, letting her body and libido take charge. It was probably just as well; she was in no condition to offer anything beyond the pleasures of the flesh. And it seemed Regan had troubles of her own, aside from defending her in this case. Tragedy averted.

She left the conference room and walked toward the Cop Out. Regan Desanto was the first woman to resist her advances in a very long time. But it wasn’t her ego that was shaken. It was a nagging feeling that something inside her had shifted and could never be righted. One thing was for sure, she needed to find out more about this woman who had charged into her life, disrupted a perfect orgasm, and taken on the defense of her professional life. She could not summarily relinquish such monumental responsibilities to the unknown, or the unworthy. Syd wanted to know the woman she was counting on.

BOOK: Suspect Passions
2.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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