The Drowning Man (18 page)

She shook her head. “I haven't been here since I was a kid.”

He waited. He liked taking walks together with her. She seemed to open up to him when they walked side by side instead of sitting somewhere facing each other, unlike almost every other woman he'd met. His patience paid off a few minutes later.

“It's one of the few good memories I have from my childhood. Coming here at Christmastime with my mom and dad.”

Funny how a few sentences from her meant more to him than hours of talk with most other women he knew. He took her hand in his and looked around. He had to admit that with the light snow falling, the white lights in the trees lining the streets, the people with flushed faces and arms loaded with packages, there was a certain appeal to the area.

“God, I do love this city in the winter,” Lora said. She paused, staring across the street. Whatever it was she saw, it wasn't good. Trent watched the subtle changes as she transformed from woman to cop. He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold winter air.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing. Let’s go in here for a minute,” she said, jaw tight, eyes scanning up and down the street.

Here was a trendy clothing store where even the people working there looked like they were still in high school. Not a place Lora would normally shop at. Trent followed her inside, casting a quick glance behind them. He saw nothing out of place, no one who looked suspicious.

Lora pretended to browse through the racks, her eyes rarely leaving the front windows of the store. Trent stood off to the side, waiting, watching.

Five minutes later, Lora relaxed and turned to him. “Ready to move on?” she asked.

“Sure. Coffee?”

“God, yes.”

They didn’t speak again until they were in a back booth of the nearest coffee shop, steaming mugs in front of them on the table. “Okay. What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she answered, staring down into the black liquid in her mug.

“Bullshit. You saw something. Or someone,” he added.

“I didn’t see anything, okay. Just a feeling.”

Trent took a swallow of his coffee, his sense of dread growing. “Simon,” he said softly.

“Probably just being paranoid,” she said, taking a drink.

Trent put his hand on her knee under the table. “Lora, I trust your instincts. If you think it’s him …”

“I don’t want to spoil our day. See, that’s the unfortunate thing about dating a cop. We’re kind of a paranoid bunch.”

He looked into her eyes and gave a half-smile. “The building has a new sprinkler system. There’s a fire extinguisher to the left of the kitchen door. There’s an emergency exit door at the end of the hallway, just past the bathrooms.” He shrugged. “It’s amazing what our jobs will do to us.”

“You know, my parents never accepted the fact that I loved being a cop. I don’t think they actually thought I’d make it through the academy, much less make detective. Of course, they weren’t around to see that. I’d like to think they would have been proud, but I know that wouldn’t have happened. They would have been disappointed.”

“I’m sorry,” Trent said, because he couldn’t think of anything more profound.

She waved him off. “Can’t change the fact I wasn’t born a son or had no interest in any of the family’s many business ventures.”

“How did they die?”

She didn't answer.

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to,” he said.

“No, it's okay. It was a car accident in Monaco. They were on vacation in a rental car and massive quantities of alcohol were involved, I'm sure.”

“Sometimes parents don’t exactly earn their children’s pride and respect either,” Trent said, quietly.

She nodded, her face somber. “You were pretty young when you lost your father.”

“No big loss there. I had my brother and even back then, he was ten times the man my father was.” What he didn’t want to tell her was that his father had used Eddie’s death as another reason to hate Trent. The man had already resented the hell out of both of his sons since they were a constant reminder of their mother leaving. He tried to shake off the dark thoughts. “Ready for a new subject?”

Lora smiled “Absolutely.” She laughed. “Well, we’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

He grinned. “Why don’t you come back to my place and I’ll prove it to you.”

A few hours later, Trent opened his eyes and looked at the bedside table where Lora's holster and gun lay. I'm dating a cop, he thought, fighting back laughter. His eyes settled on the curves underneath the thin material of the sheet next to him. An incredibly sexy cop. He reached out his hand to touch her, smiling as she turned towards him and snuggled closer, eyes still closed. All her edges and firm muscles softened when she slept, making her look almost vulnerable. Almost. He closed his eyes, absorbing the feel and smell of her, more content than he could ever remember being.

Lora wasn't beside him when he woke up. Trent rolled over and looked at the clock. Four a.m. He swung his bare feet over the side of the bed, pulled on his boxers, and walked down the hall towards the flickering light from the T.V. She was curled up on the couch wearing his T-shirt, a glass of water in one hand and the remote in the other. The sound was on mute.

He sat down next to her and took the glass and remote out of her hands, placing them on the coffee table in front of them. She slowly turned to face him. He recognized what he saw on her face, in her eyes. God knows he'd dealt with the same thing more times than he could count. He pulled her head down onto his bare chest and her arms wrapped around his stomach. The room was warm, but her body shook with shivers. Sometimes the aftermath of a nightmare was almost as bad as the actual images.

Eventually she stirred and raised her lips to meet his. She pulled up the T-shirt with one hand and pulled down the waistband of his boxers with the other. It started out gentle then Trent let her take the lead, let her use his body to take away the last remnants of the painful memories. She came violently, digging her nails into his back. She grabbed onto his hips, urging him on. He drove hard into her, filling her, giving her everything he had to give. Breathing hard, he rolled onto his side where they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

When Trent woke up a few hours later, he smelled coffee brewing. He sat up and rubbed a hand across the stubble on his face.

“I hope you don't mind,” Lora said from the kitchen. “I thought we could both use some caffeine this morning.”

Trent stood up and stretched, thinking how nice it was to have someone else brew the coffee for a change. “Sounds great,” he said, moving towards the kitchen.

It was also damned nice having her in his kitchen, leaning against the counter, in nothing but his shirt that exposed almost all of her toned legs.

She smiled and shook her head as his gaze traveled up and down her body. “Coffee and breakfast first.”

As soon as there was enough of the steaming liquid for a cup, Trent grabbed the pot.

“What are you doing?” Lora asked, taking it out of his hands and putting it back on the burner.

“What? That's the point of having pause and serve.”

Lora shook her head. “It screws up the entire pot.”

He shook his head. “You and my brother. You take coffee
way
too seriously.”

“I knew I liked your brother for a reason.”

Trent rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he now refers to coffee as sweet nectar of life.”

“Well, your brother’s just full of words of wisdom.”

“He’s full of something, all right.”

Simon paced the small kitchen in the apartment he'd managed to negotiate for six months rent in cash, no questions asked. He looked at the dirty peeling linoleum that covered the floor, the rickety table, the cracked sink. A far cry from the way he'd been living in Caroline's house. Or back in Las Vegas where he'd been paid very well for his unique skills. He shook his head. No need for any of that fancy shit now.

He could see his targets so clearly. They were probably still asleep after a long night of fucking.
Enjoy it while you can,
he thought.

It was too bad Trent had to fall for the cop, it really was. Simon would have been perfectly content to just take care of her, but now Trent had gone and gotten all caught up in her web. And anyone who associated with her was fair game. Trent had had his chance. He'd been lucky once. He wouldn't be again.

Simon had watched them for hours at the Plaza the day before, sickened by how enamored Trent had become of the cop. How Barlow could be with someone like that made no sense.

Though she
was
better than he’d originally given her credit for, she'd never be good enough. She’d felt his presence, but hadn’t seen him. He was much too good for that. His track record spoke for itself. Twenty-three kills and none of them ever saw him coming.

The stupid bitch cop. She probably thought he’d gone back to Vegas. Fuck that. His life was his own now. Well, whatever was left of it was. If he went back now, his former employers would just use him until there was nothing left. He’d been too valuable for them to leave him alone.

It was time for the next step. He smiled at how beautifully it was all coming together. This step was the most difficult one yet and he had to time it just right. One part of it was aimed directly at where Lora would feel it the most. The other part was a nice little surprise for Trent.

As anxious as he was, he had to be patient a little bit longer. He wanted them relaxed into a false sense of security before he struck.

It was a typical Sunday night and Nathan would never take moments like this for granted again. The kids were in bed. He could hear the faint sounds of Amy finishing up the dishes in the kitchen. Trent sat next to him on the couch. They each had a cold beer in hand and football was on TV. The Chiefs had the ball and a comfortable lead. A damn near perfect moment.

Nathan was also happy to see how good his brother looked. He looked like the old Trent. Better, in fact, and he thought he knew the answer. A woman. “How's work?” he asked.

“Good,” Trent answered with a nod, his eyes still focused on the TV.

“Seeing anyone?”

Trent shot his brother a sideways look. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Nathan shrugged, feigning innocence. “I'm just asking.”

They both watched in silence as the Chiefs' offense methodically marched down the field towards the end zone.

“I went out with Lora Tatum,” Trent said quietly when the station cut to a commercial break.

Nathan almost spit out his beer. “
Detective
Lora Tatum?”

Trent nodded.

Nathan raised his eyebrow.

“We've only gone out a few times.”

“And you're just now telling me this?”

Trent turned to face his brother. “It's no big deal.”

“Sure.” I'll be damned, Nathan thought. Good for Trent. Hell, good for both of them. He'd never be able to thank Detective Tatum for what she'd done to save his brother, and if somehow they found happiness together, then more power to them. He shot a sideways glance at Trent, wondered if they were sleeping together yet.

They lapsed back into silence, watching the game. The Chiefs' second year defensive end busted through a double team and knocked the opposing quarterback on his ass.

“Hell, yeah,” Trent said, clicking his bottle against Nathan's.

“You should bring her to dinner next Sunday,” Nathan said.

Trent didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the first time Nate had told him to bring a date to dinner, but it was the first time Trent had actually considered doing it. The women he dated were always temporary, and so introducing them to his brother's family was a waste of time
.
But God help him, he didn’t want what he felt for Lora to be temporary.

“I'll think about it,” he said quietly.

Lora almost cancelled. There was just something so …
meaningful
about meeting the family of the person you were dating. Even before Erick's death, she'd avoided it and she hadn't dated at all since then. She’d gotten very good at ignoring men who showed any interest in her. Until Trent. She'd almost forgotten how nerve-wracking these meetings were. Then there was the fact that she had no family to introduce Trent to except for Pops. She closed her eyes at the brief stab of pain.

To distract herself, she reviewed what she knew about Trent’s brother and his family. She knew from Trent’s file that Nathan Barlow was five years older than Trent, had taught high school math for ten years, and was now an assistant principal at East River High. Trent's sister-in-law, Amy Barlow, was a homemaker and ran a small cake decorating business out of their home. They had two daughters. Samantha was twelve and Nicole nine.

She jumped at the sound of her doorbell. Hell, she thought as she walked down the hallway, it's just dinner. It didn't mean anything. Or did it? Did she
want
it to mean anything? Shit. Shit, shit, shit. She never should have agreed to this. She'd tell Trent she wasn't feeling well and stay home.

But when she opened the door, the words stuck in her heart.

Trent looked her up and down and grinned as she shifted from one foot to the other. “You're not
nervous
are you?” he asked.

“I, uh, …”
Damn
him. Why the hell did he have to look so good her mouth watered at the sight of him standing there in her doorway in jeans and a faded sweatshirt?

“You ready?” he asked.

Lora nodded. They were in his truck, pulling out of her parking lot before she could speak. “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.”

“It'll be fun, you'll see,” Trent said, but Lora saw a shadow of doubt cross his face. She bit the inside of her lower lip and stared out the window until the car stopped.

Her worries were put to rest the instant the Barlow’s front door opened. Amy, a short compact woman with a dancer's body, immediately pulled her into her arms for a quick hug. She stepped back and smiled, still holding Lora’s hands in hers. She didn’t have to say the words. Lora could see the gratitude and warmth in the other woman’s eyes. Before she had a chance to stumble over a response, two small blond girls came running down the stairs. They each gave Lora a wave then wrapped themselves around Trent’s legs.