Witches of Three: Charlene (5 page)

He pulled out of her, and she felt emptiness where he’d been. She moaned in protest, and he leaned back to kiss her. She lay half dozing while he gathered up his clothes, dressed and with a final kiss, left the room. He was gone, and her life seemed colorless without him. What had she gotten herself into? She’d never be a fully realized woman without Nick at her side. Life had been so simple before, now it seemed enormously complicated. She could go back in time, she reminded herself and knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t give up knowing Nick, of having him make love to her, of finding what the future held with him, or without him, but she refused to think about that now.

Chapter Four

She was late getting to the station, something she’d never done before. She’d always striven to be perfect—now she frowned at her lapse. She hoped Nick didn’t think she was taking advantage of what had happened between them. That brought her to the image of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms and all the sensations that had awakened between. Her cheeks grew hot, and she looked around guiltily to see if anyone had noticed. Of course, Ralph Latimer was watching her. She forced herself to meet his gaze and hold it until he looked away first.

“I think the lady got laid last night,” he said loudly. “She’s looking kind of peaked this morning.”

The men around him laughed. She knew it was part of the banter between them all, and the fact that they were no longer walking around her as if on egg shells signified an acceptance unqualified by sexism that was gratifying if a little disturbing.

“So who’s your new love interest, Spencer?” Ray Somnes, Ralph’s partner, called. His dark gaze raked over her figure, then veered away. She knew, like Ralph, Ray had an interest in fucking her, but unlike his partner, he didn’t press it.

“You wouldn’t know him,” she answered in the same kidding tone Ray had used. “He’s a gentleman.”

“Ohhh, Ray, she thinks you’re not a gentleman,” one of the other guys called.

“Charlie’s right,” another officer commented. “I wouldn’t let my sister date either you or Ralph. You’re too lowdown for her.”

“We know how to please a lady just fine,” Ralph answered, but somehow his words didn’t carry the same good-natured tease of the other guys. To emphasize his meaning, he grabbed his crotch and pumped it a couple of times with his hand. The laughter died away as the guys glanced at Charlie to see how she was taking the rough by-play.

“So you say,” she said so all could hear her. “What do the ladies say about that?”

“Just come on, baby. I’ll show you,” Ralph snarled, grabbing his crotch again and advancing.

Nick entered the squad room and looked around. Ralph backed off, and the noisy teasing died away.

“Morning, everyone,” Nick said, nodding at them all.

His gaze skipped right over Charlie without a pause. She might have been miffed, but she remembered all the things he’d done to her during the night. She knew his cries of passions and the feel of his body as he climaxed. She knew so many intimate things about Nick Hilliard that she hadn’t known before. She didn’t know she was smiling until Ralph leaned over and sneered at her.

“Yeah, she got laid last night,” he said in a low voice so only she heard him. “And from the smirk on your face, I’d guess the captain did it.”

Shock rippled through her, and she turned and stared at her tormentor. She could feel color washing over her cheeks. How best to deny his words without giving herself away?

Don’t deny!

“You have a brain the size of a pea,” she muttered back to him.

His expression darkened, and his face grew red. His eyes glared at her balefully. She smiled at him sweetly. By that time, Nick had headed for his office, and she was glad not to have to confront him. She wasn’t sure she could pull this off. She was bound to give herself away every time she looked at Nick.

Geronimo headed her way, a clutch of papers in his hand.

“What have we got?” Charlie asked.

“New drugs on the street,” he answered. “One of the narcs bought a hit from a dealer over on Lambert Street. We need to go check it out.”

“Be right with you,” Charlie said, grabbing her hat and adjusting her holster.

Lambert wasn’t the safest street in Grand Rapids, but it wasn’t the worst. Still, she was glad to have her Glock. She followed her partner out to the cruiser, and they settled into their customary positions with Charlie driving and Geronimo riding shotgun.

They ran their route backwards starting on the east end, taking Wealthy to Madison and turning onto Lambert. In the early morning, the street appeared quiet and deserted. They cruised past boarded up crack houses and rundown dwellings that no human being should be forced to live in. Charlie knew the city prided itself on its cleanup efforts, but some areas were still untouched and untouchable. They rolled onto Leonard and continued the rest of their way, taking their time, looking for anything or anyone out of the way, looking for some clue to new activity, or a new dealer starting his trade. For some, early morning was the best time to procure drugs.

At noon, they stopped on Division at a pizza buffet place then headed out again. Mid-afternoon, they made another pass down Lambert, which was bustling compared to its earlier morning hush. Prostitutes decorated the corners garbed in skimpy, sequined attire that left little to the imagination. Their pimps, dressed to the nines, lounged by showy, late-model cars, drug dealers set up shop on cement steps making it clear they were open for business. Kids, no older than ten, hung around, watching the action, offering their services to run errands and so forth. A few old men with canes and women carrying shopping bags passed through the streets, their heads lowered, their gazes directed at the sidewalk.

“There,” Geronimo said, pointing at a group of young men gathered on a curb, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes. “Let’s make a stop and see what they’re smoking.”

“What does it matter anymore? Our government is on the verge of legalizing it soon, anyway.”

“But it ain’t legal yet, and that tall dude there is one of the top dealers. Maybe he’s supplying the heroine that’s out on the streets again.”

“Yeah, that’s bad stuff,” Charlie agreed then pulled over and shut off the motor.

“You stay here,” Geronimo said, opening the car door.

“You may need backup,” Charlie protested.

“Naw, I’m just going to talk to them. No problem.” He slammed the door behind him.

Charlie kept a sharp eye out as he walked up to the group and started talking to them. Some of the men sidled away when they saw Geronimo in his cop’s uniform, some held their ground, their narrowed eyes hostile below their do-rags. Geronimo spoke, and the men listened, then suddenly, one of them pulled a gun out of his jacket and shot the policeman in the stomach. Geronimo hadn’t seen it coming, nor had Charlie. Stunned, she hesitated, thinking it had been an apparition as Geronimo remained standing, his hands clutched to his abdomen, then he fell to the ground.

She got on the phone and called for police assistance, officer down, then drew her gun and leaped out of the car. By this time, the man who had shot Geronimo had sprinted down the street, along with several others. Even the dealer loped down a side street. At the first shot, people had cleared the street so Charlie fired off a couple of shots after the shooter who fired back. She didn’t pursue. The first rule was to tend to her partner. She knelt beside Geronimo and placed her hand on his wound.

“Hang in there, Geronimo,” she said. “Help’s coming.”

Her partner met her gaze and grimaced in pain.

“Why’d he shoot?” he grunted. “I never suspected he’d do that.” He laughed, a gurgling sound in his throat. “I wasn’t hassling him that hard. Why’d he shoot?”

“What did you get?” Charlie asked, as long as he was talking.

“Nothing I can see.” He shrugged his shoulder and took a deep breath against the pain the movement caused. “Hurts like hell.”

Charlie glanced around the street. No one was close by. She blinked, and the bleeding let up again. She blinked again, and Geronimo relaxed.

“That’s better,” he said and closed his eyes.

“Hang on, partner.”

She mouthed the words like a litany and was grateful when she heard the sound of a siren approaching. Almost immediately, a police cruiser slid to a halt nearby and two officers jumped out, their hands on their holstered guns, ready to draw them if necessary. Ralph Latimer and Ray Somnes surveyed the area and, finding no imminent danger, gazed at the fallen man.

“Hey, Geronimo,” Ray said, squatting down beside them. “You hit bad?”

“Bad enough,” Charlie said, “but he’s going to make it.”

“Did you see who did it?” he asked.

“He was a short, burly Hispanic with a red do-rag around his head wearing white sneakers, jeans, a blue and white striped T-shirt and a thin, black jacket. He had the gun in the jacket pocket. After he fired, he ran north on Lambert. He wasn’t alone.”

“You call it in, Ralph,” Ray said. “I’m going after him.”

By that time, an ambulance had arrived, and the paramedics set about stabilizing Geronimo’s condition before transporting him to the hospital. Once the ambulance had pulled away, Charlie headed toward her cruiser, intent on joining the search for the shooter.

“Well, Spencer, you proved once again that you’re no damn good at anything,” Officer Latimer bellowed at her. “You just got your partner shot. I hope you’re happy.”

“Go to Hell,” she shouted at him, opening her car door and leaping in.

She felt sick at heart enough without Ralph’s sniping at her. For long hours, she cruised the streets, trying to find the man who’d shot her partner. Every little while she’d call into the station to get a report on Geronimo’s status. Finally, they told her he was going to pull through. The bullet hadn’t hit anything too vital, and there was little damage, which was amazing given where the bullet had entered. Charlie sighed with relief and, at directions from the dispatcher, turned her cruiser toward the station.

“The doctors said it was a miracle,” Nick told them when they all gathered in the squad room to hear the latest reports.

He scanned the room, meeting every man’s eye and stopping when he got to Charlie. She felt his gaze, hard and direct and knew he’d worried about her. She parted her lips to say something, but Ralph Latimer got there first.

“What I want to know is why he was out there facing those guys by himself. Where was his partner?” He shot a venomous gaze at Charlie. Everyone waited.

“He told me to stay in the car. He said he was just going to talk to them. He wanted to find out about the new batch of heroin on the street.”

“Did he learn anything?” Ray asked quietly, his gray eyes troubled.

“That was what surprised him,” Charlie said. “He said he just asked them some questions and didn’t get anything worthwhile. He couldn’t understand why they shot him.”

“When we catch the bastard, we’ll find out why,” one of the men said.

“That’s all for now,” Nick said. “Spencer, I want to see you in my office, and then I want you to write up a report.”

“Now you have to answer for your sloppy police work,” Ralph sneered. “You can’t sit in your squad car and let your partner get shot.”

“Spencer,” Nick called impatiently.

She turned her back on Latimer and marched into Nick’s office. He closed the door behind them.

“I’m sorry for what ha—” she began, before a hand on her shoulder spun her around and his lips closed over hers in a long, forceful kiss. He was breathing hard when he released her mouth and held her tight against her.

“I thought it was you,” he whispered harshly. “My God, I thought I’d lost you, just when I’d found you.” He held her close, and she leaned into his warmth and strength. Now that the danger had passed and Geronimo was going to be okay, she could give in to the guilt that assailed her.

“It’s my fault,” she said, weeping against his shoulder. “I should have followed him out of the car, no matter what he said.”

Nick rocked her, pressing kisses against her hot, moist cheek and temple.

“You couldn’t have known,” he murmured, tightening his hold on her.

“But if I’d been out of the car, with my weapon visible, the punk might not have fired. He would have known he had a good chance of being shot himself.”

“You followed your senior partner’s instructions—” Nick began but was interrupted by the door being flung open. Ralph Latimer stood in the doorway glaring at them. Charlie pulled in a sharp breath and stepped back.

“I’m sorry to cry on your shoulder, Captain,” she said as if Ralph weren’t even there. “That wasn’t very professional of me.”

“That’s okay, Spencer,” he replied, his tone betraying nothing of the feelings between them. “Go home and get some rest.” He turned to Ralph. “Did you want something, Latimer?”

Ralph looked from one of them to the other, his gaze saying he didn’t know what to believe about what he’d just seen. Charlie made a show of drying her eyes, even managed a hiccup or two as she walked to the door. She thought about giving Ralph a frontal lobotomy to erase his memory, but wasn’t sure that was the right part of the brain. She’d have to look that up. In the meantime, she turned back to Nick.

“Thank you, Captain,” she said, making her voice as impersonal and straight out of the academy professional as she could. Nick nodded without looking away from Ralph.

“What was she doing in here?” Ralph asked belligerently.

“That’s none of your business,” Nick said evenly. “The question is what are you doing in here?”

Ralph’s gaze darted around, landing on Charlie who still lingered in the doorway, tears drying on her cheek.

“I’ll come back when you’re not preoccupied,” Ralph said sullenly and stalked off.

“Latimer.” Nick’s stern voice brought him around. “Next time, try knocking on my office door when it’s closed. Got it?”

Ralph nodded and headed to his desk. Nick exchanged a final glance with Charlie before going back to his desk. With a last glimpse at Ralph, she walked to the locker room and got her purse before heading out, but she carried the image of Ralph’s suspicious gaze. She tried to shove it away and concentrate on Geronimo’s condition. She went by the hospital and sat at his bedside, but he was too heavily sedated for her to talk to him. He would live, and she liked to think she’d had something to do with that. She’d done more than stop the bleeding and ease his pain while they’d waited for the ambulance, and for that, she was grateful to be a witch with special powers. That brought her back to Nick. She had to tell him the truth about herself. Troubled, she drove home and crawled into the shower.