The Chase (14 page)

A couple of hours ago she’d been trapped in a burning building, yet, she still craved heat. Considering Gabe’s attitude toward her, the temperature outside wasn’t the only thing dropping. Her own fault. Still, faced with the same set of circumstances, she wouldn’t let Sherry, or any of her investigators go on an assignment like that alone.

She understood this about herself and Gabe needed to adjust. Simple as that.

A gust of wind whipped at her hair and she tucked a few loose strands back while she studied Martinson’s home. For a smuggler, she expected something more lavish and less, well,
homey
. What she hadn’t expected was beige aluminum siding and small windows. This home needed children playing in the patch of yard or someone sitting on the stoop at night chatting with a neighbor. Considering the neighbor’s house was barely fifteen feet away, that would be easy.

A man in track pants and a gray wool jacket sidled up next to her. “What’s going on?”

This happened a lot. Since she generally stood on the street waiting for the all clear, someone inevitably asked her what the deal was. In a quiet, residential neighborhood like this, the number of rubberneckers increased, simply because people wanted to know why ESU was on their street. The P.D. had barricaded the area and onlookers were forced outside the restricted area.

She glanced at the guy. He wore sunglasses and a black skull cap. His face was lean, but sort of round and his dark hair stuck out of the hat at the neckline.

Something about him was familiar, but with all the people she’d met, he could be anyone.

“I don’t know,” she said, responding to his question. Only a partial lie because, at this very second, she had no idea what was taking so long inside that house.

She caught a flash of white from the corner of her eye and shifted. A news van had just pulled around the corner. Within minutes there would be more. If she knew the mayor like she thought she did, he’d had someone leak this bust. Thus, why she was allowed on-scene for a photo opportunity.

Politics.

“Wow. Newspeople,” the guy said.

Jo rocked forward on her toes. The house wasn’t that big, what was the holdup? Or maybe she was antsy and wanted to see Donald Martinson in handcuffs. Who knew if he was even home? “There will probably be more newspeople. They’re like ants. See one and there’s usually more to follow. Do you live on the block?”

“Yeah.” He pointed to the opposite end of the street. “Down there.”

“Do you know the people who live in this house?”

“Nah.”

Jo nodded, but her attention was on the front door where Gabe had just exited the home. Every ounce of her yearned to step forward, but she remained in her spot, exactly where he’d told her to be.

It completely sucked.

He marched over and removed his helmet. “He’s not home.”

Jo closed her eyes. Could have guessed. Anytime she wanted something this bad, she had to work hard, then a little harder for it. They’d get him. It would just take longer. She opened her eyes. “Okay. What now?”

In Gabe’s hand was a silver picture frame. “This is our guy. According to his wife, he’s lost weight since his DMV picture was taken.”

Jo looked at the photo and a spark of recognition singed her.
Son of a gun
. She spun sideways. The man who’d been chatting her up had disappeared.

Gone.

She slapped her hands on top of her head, bashing herself with the hard cast. “Ouch.”

Gabe rubbed the spot for her. “Honey, be careful.”

“That S.O.B.”

“What?”

“He was just here.”

Gabe followed her gaze. “Who?”

“Martinson. He must have recognized me and started a conversation. The weasel is taunting me.”

Gabe turned and surveyed the area, his eyes sweeping left and right. “You see him anywhere? What’s he wearing?”

She rattled off a description while scanning her surroundings. “I can’t believe it.”

A uniformed cop walked by and Gabe stopped him. “Start looking for a guy with a gray wool zip-up jacket. Black skull cap and sunglasses.”

The cop nodded and stalked off. Gabe got on his radio to alert his team and Jo propped her hands on her hips, cursing her rotten luck. He’d been right in front of her. Leave it to her to be chasing a guy on a diet.

She pulled her phone from her pocket just as Gabe finished on his radio. “Who’re you calling?”

“Sherry. I want to give her an updated description.”

“I’ve got cops canvassing. He’s probably in the wind now.” He shrugged. “Never know. Gotta give him credit for having a set of stones.”

“I give him credit for
nothing
. He’s a thief. And a weasel.”

“Yeah, well, that thief and weasel just played us.”

Chapter Eleven

Jo stood in her kitchen with the palm of her unbroken hand pressed into the countertop. If only the cold granite would soothe the boiling under her skin. At this rate, her veins would disintegrate.

So. Incredibly. Pissed.

Donald Martinson, weasel extraordinaire, was now on her list. She had to find him. Had to. This went beyond counterfeit goods.

This
was a matter of pride.

And she had plenty of it. Not only had Martinson played her, she’d missed Kiki getting arrested at the other building ESU had raided. At least they’d gotten one of them. That fact was only a small bit of salve on her singed ego.

Someone knocked lightly on her door.
Gabe
. And what was that? Suddenly he had a recognizable knock? Next he’d be moving in.

Right.

Making matters worse, she didn’t exactly take her time getting to the door. Getting attached to him was a bad idea. One she should have considered
before
it actually happened. She checked the peephole and there he was, Mr. August, in all his glory. She swung the door open. The smell of his soap, clean and pure, reached her and she assumed he’d recently showered after this miserably long day. She herself had spent a good twenty minutes scrubbing her skin, yet the smell of a burning building still lingered.

Whether it was her imagination working her over, she couldn’t be sure, but she knew she’d never forget the terror involved in being trapped in an inferno.

Donald Martinson, weasel extraordinaire.

“Hey,” Gabe said, stepping across the threshold in his spiffy clean jeans and a green sweater.

How the man never wore a jacket and didn’t freeze, she couldn’t fathom. Freak of nature. That’s what he was. Mr. August. The hottest month.

“Hi. Everything okay?”

He dropped onto the couch and stretched his massive body into it. A sight she was getting used to seeing and hardly minded.

“Aside from the extra holes the mayor drilled into me, I’m good.”

Jo winced. “Sorry.”

“The good news is, I took the bullet—make that
bullets
—for both of us, so you’re off the hook.”

She perched across from him on the coffee table. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I was there and he was pissed. Now we’re done. Our task force hauling in close to a million dollars in counterfeit goods this week is saving us. He might have a bug up his ass, but it’s a happy bug.”

Jo snorted. Shark Gabe grinned at her. She fanned herself. “Now what?”

He sat up and their knees bumped. “We hunt down Martinson. We’re
chatting
with Kiki, but he’s not talking yet. Otherwise, the task force has been successful. We continue to do what we’ve been doing. With the exception of you going on hits. After the fire today, the mayor doesn’t want to hear jack about that.”

“I figured. It’s reasonable.”

He backed away. “Pardon?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll admit it’s dangerous. That’s all you’re getting from me, Sergeant, so lay off.”

He grabbed her good hand and pulled her onto his lap. “That’s all I’m getting? Really? I saved you from a burning building
and
came all the way to Jersey.”

When he started nibbling on her shoulder, she reconsidered. “Jersey isn’t that far. And you are a civil servant.” More nibbling.
Definitely hot in here
. “Well, maybe that’s not
all
you’re getting. If you’re nice to me.”

“I’m always nice to you.”

“Liar.”

The nibbling turned into kisses trailing up her neck. Maybe she’d crack the window. Get some fresh air.

“Hot flash?” he cracked.

“Big one.” She shoved him away. “Stop. For one second. Maybe two. I can’t think.”

“So don’t think. It’s been a rough day. Let’s burn off steam by creating new and exciting sexual positions.”

Typical man, but oh, how easy that would be. Aside from the fact that she was bone tired, they needed to figure out just what they were doing with each other.

She scooted from his lap and went back to the coffee table.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “I feel like a we-have-to-talk talk is coming. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate talking?”

“Have I ever mentioned that I don’t care how much you hate talking?”

He blew air through his lips and slouched back. “Go ahead. Let’s get it over with.”

“We need to decide where we’re going. As much as we can, anyway. Both of our careers are on the line. Are you willing to risk that?”

He folded his arms. Sergeant Townsend body language for
I can kill you.
“And if I said I might be?”

Wow
. In her mind, she happy danced. He’d blow his career for her? For good sex?

“Before you say anything,” he said. “It’s not about the sex. Wait. That’s a lie. It is about the sex, but it’s also about what happens
with
the sex. I blew it in a big way today. If I weren’t emotionally involved, I never would have left the scene of the fire to talk to that vendor. Never. The fact that I’m invested, tells me we shouldn’t throw whatever this is away.”

“But the mayor—”

“To hell with him. He exacted his pound of flesh today. Outside of the tantrum, he’s a happy guy. He’s busy telling the media how exceptional his task force is. Which, of course, he’s taking full credit for.”

Nothing surprising. The mayor was a politician and a master of spin. Mr. August, however, was full of surprises. Like his emotional
investment
. An investment that made the girlie-girl inside Jo a little giddy.

The grown woman, though? She had major problems with this risk. She glanced up at him, the dark hair and eyes, the strength and protectiveness and—
sigh
—the girl was about to flip the grown woman off.

“You’re not helping,” Jo said. “I’m trying to be rational.”

He laughed. “And I’m trying to get laid.”

She threw her hands up. “This is serious and you’re screwing around.”

“Actually, I’m not screwing around, which is the whole point because I’d
like
to be screwing around. See how that works?”

Hopeless.

“Look, Jo, I’m sorry for screaming at you today. That was wrong. And I know this is freaking you out. It’s freaking me out too. For the first time, I’m on my boss’s radar for all the wrong reasons. Whether I understand it or not, I’m in this.
We’re
in this. We might as well see what happens. If we go down in flames, then we’ve got problems and one of us will have to make a career decision.”

“Or the decision will be made for us.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “When have you ever been afraid to break a rule? For now, we’re okay and for once, I don’t mind being emotionally invested. Why not have some fun?”

Fun didn’t sound all that bad. He was after all, her intellectual equal and, unlike a lot of men, wasn’t intimidated by her aggressiveness.

It might work.

If it didn’t, they’d both suffer and it would be about more than their jobs. She’d be heartbroken. Devastated even.

He’s worth it
.

Using her lone good hand and a sudden lack of common sense, she boosted herself off the coffee table, grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall toward her bedroom. “Okay, big shot, show me what you’ve got.”

—:-:—

As the chase heats up, so does Jo and Gabe’s burgeoning relationship. Don’t miss their next adventure…

Justifiable Cause: Evasion

Coming Soon

Acknowledgments

I have always said I’m the luckiest girl in the world to be surrounded by such giving (and smart!) people. As always, thank you to my husband who continually provides hero material. For my son, the junior alpha in my life, thank you for making me laugh on a daily basis. You inspire me in ways you’ll never know.

To Literary Donna, thank you for being so patient in answering my questions. Your help was invaluable. To John Leach, you’ve been with me since the beginning of this journey, and I am forever grateful that you’ve shared your knowledge and friendship with me.
 
Misty Evans, thank you for taking the time to read my early version of this story and for always being available to brainstorm ideas. I’m blessed to have you in my life. To my ultimate support group of Tracey Devlyn, Kelsey Browning and Theresa Stevens, thank you for helping me through the tough times and for celebrating each accomplishment with me. You’re an awesome team. Thank you to Dianna Love for not only the fantastic cover quote, but for supporting a new author. You’ve set a wonderful example to follow.