Yuletide Protector (Love Inspired Suspense) (4 page)

It had been a long time since Daria had seen George. Would he be so bold after the meeting he’d had with Kevin the other night?

Daria didn’t believe for one minute that George was trying to win her back. He hadn’t fought the divorce at all, but he’d made it clear he was angry—deeply angry—with her for initiating it. He’d always been all about appearances. He hadn’t cared about their marriage so much as their appearance as a perfect couple.

It was so like George to care only about things that other people thought were important, things that impressed. Throughout their marriage, he had been very generous with gifts, even when things were at their worst between them. Unfortunately, the very things Daria had wanted—no, needed—were things George hadn’t been capable of giving.

In contrast, a man like Kevin Gordon had real depth. She’d been surprised by his determination to watch over her. It was such a contrast to the way that George, by the end of their marriage, only ever thought of himself. But even aside from George, how many men would do what Kevin was doing for her? Sure, he was a police officer, but even he said the department didn’t have the means to protect her.

No, what he was doing for her—however frustrating it was to be smothered with his protection—came from
character. His motives were honest and without any interest in what he could get back in return. It was refreshing to meet someone so unselfish. And she knew she should be grateful for the protection he offered.

If George was determined to have her killed as he’d planned, she was going to need all the help she could get. Especially since he’d made it clear how easily he could get past security and breeze right into her office.

Daria glanced at Marla’s wide eyes as she gazed longingly at the flowers. A man like George could easily impress a woman like Marla. And it was clear he had. Her assistant wouldn’t be much of a roadblock if George came to the office again. But why today? Why would he send her these ridiculous flowers? Was he trying to scare her? If he was, he’d succeeded.

Regardless, his card said it all.

“What’s today’s date, Marla?”

Marla gave her a questioning look and tapped her fingers on the small day planner on the corner of her desk.

Daria stared at the planner and a chill raced up her spine, leaving her hands trembling. In that split second, she knew exactly what it meant. Divorced or not, George’s intentions were clear. To him, she was still his property.

“Today would have been our anniversary.”

“C
arlisle was in her office, Matt,” Kevin boomed. He paced Captain Jorgensen’s office in a fury, riding on a burst of adrenaline. Ever since Ski had called to tell him George Carlisle was seen leaving the grounds of the building where Daria worked, Kevin hadn’t been able to keep still.

He’d left her there. Even knowing she could still be in danger, Kevin had watched her step out of her truck and make her way toward the building.

And all the while George Carlisle, the man Kevin was supposed to be protecting her from, was inside. Or had been. Maybe he’d already come and gone by the time Daria had made her way to her office. Kevin didn’t know. But the man had been there.

And as he paced Captain Jorgensen’s office, it irritated Kevin to no end that he didn’t know a single thing about what had happened at her office building today. The only info he had was what Ski had reported to him shortly before roll call.

What was Daria thinking? He’d just told her her ex-husband was trying to have her murdered. Why hadn’t she called him when George made contact?

The captain pulled the pen cap he’d been chewing out of his mouth. “We don’t have an active restraining order to keep him away. Until we do, there’s no law against George Carlisle dropping by his ex-wife’s office. The building is open to the public. There have to be about thirty companies in that building. The man might have had legitimate business in any one of them.”

“And maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly like Tinker Bell,” Kevin drawled.

“That would be a sight to see.” There was no humor in the captain’s voice.

“You don’t really believe he was there on legitimate business, do you?”

“No. And neither do you,” Jorgensen said. “But it doesn’t matter what you or I believe. What matters is the law and as of right now George Carlisle has a free man’s right to walk the streets as he pleases. His attorney made sure of that. Until that changes, until he’s actually done something outside of his meeting with you the other night to warrant this attention you’re giving him, there isn’t a thing I can do.”

Kevin ground to a halt. There were days when the boundaries that closed around him while on the job were frustrating.

Captain Matt Jorgensen, newly appointed as captain of the precinct only seven months ago, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his desk. He was a lean man, a good six to eight years older than Kevin, though he kept himself fit, so his years didn’t show. His dark hair was slightly thinning on top in the way of a high forehead, but it didn’t seem to bother the man.

His by-the-book code of policing, leaving no wiggle room where the law was concerned, had advanced him
up the ranks of law enforcement ahead of cops with more policing experience than his own ten years. Kevin supposed his code was more from character than career advancement and was possibly the only way he’d been able to keep sane in a world that was sometimes so utterly out of order.

Very little was ever spoken about Matt Jorgensen’s past. What little Kevin did know was usually talked about in hushed voices. The man had lost his wife in a brutal murder over ten years ago and he’d been fingered. Rumor was, the police hadn’t even looked for another suspect. It had been Matt’s own digging and relentless work with his attorney that eventually got him off the rap. But the case had grown cold and the killer was never found. Matt had gone to the academy soon after.

“Is Daria Carlisle looking to get a restraining order? Did she ask for your help?” Matt asked.

“No,” Kevin reluctantly admitted. Which irritated him further. Daria had to have known George was at her office. Ski had seen Carlisle carrying flowers on his way into the building, but not on the way out. When she’d found the flowers, she should have called him.

“I told you before,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair. “George Carlisle hasn’t broken any laws. And he has a viper attorney who will strike at us if we even breathe George Carlisle’s name the wrong way. Unless you want to get bitten, you need to back off. We have done all we can in this situation.”

“I should have walked away from that meeting as soon as I heard the static in my piece. If I’d done the job right the other night, George Carlisle might be behind bars right now.”

The captain’s shoulders drooped in impatient form.
“‘Might be’ is the operative phrase. Look, we’ve been through all this.”

“And none of us came out happy in the end. Least of all Daria Carlisle.”

Matt threw his hands up by his side. “I don’t hear Ms. Carlisle complaining. You told her what happened down at the salvage yard. You offered her a solution and she flat out rejected it. She hasn’t called this office asking for help, as far as I know.”

“Because she won’t believe her ex is capable of murder,” he drawled.

With a shrug, Matt said, “We’ve see that before. Are you really surprised?”

No, Kevin wasn’t. He’d seen women run back to their husbands after a standoff with a loaded gun to their head.

Of course, he knew the reason why they did it. Some women simply refused to believe they were actually in danger. They chose to ignore the signs of trouble. He’d seen it firsthand, when his sister’s best friend had been murdered. Lucy had believed she had nothing to fear from her ex-boyfriend. And now she was dead. How many women had he seen follow Lucy’s path in the years he’d been on the force?

Too many,
he decided. He didn’t want it to be too late for Daria, as it had been for Lucy. It had been nearly twenty years since Lucy’s death, but Daria’s case brought all the fear and frustration back.

Daria wasn’t Lucy. But she did need protection. And he wasn’t going to let her down.

“We need department support to tail Carlisle. Between me, Jake and Ski, there aren’t enough hours in the day.”

“Or enough dollars in your bank account to personally pay off-duty officers.” Matt shook his head and darted a pointed finger at Kevin. “Don’t deny it—I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t even want to know what you, Santos and Stanasloski are doing on your off-hours. I have a feeling it’ll just tick me off and I’m sure it won’t make Carlisle’s attorney any happier. And as far as getting the department to authorize the overtime, no can do. I just can’t justify the expense to the commissioner.

“Look, you’ve always been focused on your job. In the seven months I’ve been here it’s been clear something is driving you more than just the paycheck. I know what that’s like,” he said. Then Matt’s attention turned to the people gathered in the hall outside his office door.

“We’ve got company,” he said as he rose from the seat behind his desk. “Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like this?”

Kevin threw open the door and stared into the cold eyes of George Carlisle’s attorney. He was Lawrence Bingham, a partner at one of those uptown law firms with a string of names no one but the partners ever remembered. Kevin had met the man the previous morning when Bingham strode into the station in high-class loafers and Sunday casual clothes that probably cost more than a month of the average cop’s salary. Kevin had never begrudged anyone with money. He’d always had enough to satisfy himself and figured most people worked for what they wanted or needed. But he’d never cared for people who flaunted their wealth as a way to set themselves above others.

“What is going on here?” Matt asked.

District Attorney Martha Landers stepped into the office beside Bingham, her expression tight.

Bingham’s cool smile had just enough edge to be annoying. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

Martha sighed. “Mr. Bingham tells me one of your officers is harassing his client.”

Matt shook his head. “We went over all this the other morning. My officers were doing their job.”

“Does that include false arrest, too?”

“That arrest was perfectly legal,” Kevin said firmly. “Textbook, even.”

Matt nodded. “I agree. I’ve read the report. Detective Gordon had probable cause. The arrest was clean and as soon as the mistake was cleared up, your client was released without any harm.”

Bingham laughed harshly. “I’m not here to debate what you perceive as probable cause these days. I’m talking about this morning when my client found one of your officers tailing him.”

Jorgensen tossed a disgusted look at Kevin that might as well have been a flogging. Kevin was almost too surprised to notice. Ski was usually stealthlike when he was tailing someone. Despite his nervous twitch, he was good at keeping himself invisible. Carlisle hadn’t seen him for the two weeks they’d been tailing him before the meeting. But obviously Carlisle was aware of them now and that meant they’d all have to be more careful.

“It’s bad enough to be falsely accused, to have your reputation tarnished with innuendo. But to be stalked and made to fear the very people who’ve sworn to protect and serve, well…”

Kevin shoved his hands into his pockets in an attempt to give them something to do other than grab Bingham by the throat. Bingham was baiting Kevin. He wanted Kevin to lose his cool, act like a crazed cop to strengthen
his case against the department and to give credence to George Carlisle’s claim that he was being harassed. But he wasn’t about to let Bingham get the best of him.

“My client had some banking business this morning and found Detective Gordon sitting outside the building when he came out.”

Kevin quickly ran the events of the morning through his head. He hadn’t seen Carlisle leaving the building after Daria went inside. He’d only waited long enough for Daria to enter the building before leaving himself. Ski had told him Carlisle was long gone before Daria had arrived. The only way Carlisle would have known Kevin had been there was if he’d come back.

“I was doing my job, which is to protect Ms. Carlisle from your client,” he told Bingham.

Martha cocked her head. “So you were at Ms. Carlisle’s office building this morning?”

“Yes.”

Bingham flipped his hand. “There. He’s admitted to stalking my client. I want charges brought against Detective Gordon and a restraining order issued. I won’t tolerate Gordon harassing my client any longer.”

“He’s done no such thing,” Martha said firmly, shifting her briefcase from one hand to the other. She shook a head of short salt-and-pepper curls in impatience. “And none of this will hold up in court. You and I both know that, Mr. Bingham. I will also not entertain any notion of false arrest on this matter. I’ve seen the report. The officers at the salvage yard believed they had probable cause for an arrest. The department released your client as soon as they discovered there was no evidence on that tape. Your client should be happy they didn’t hold him the full forty-eight hours the law allows.”

Bingham huffed. “Regardless, I want to file a restraining order against this officer.”

“For what?” Matt said. “He’s already stated his reason for being at Ms. Carlisle’s office building was for her protection. It had nothing to do with your client.”

Martha turned to Kevin. “Will Ms. Carlisle verify that you were there on her behalf?”

“We spoke this morning and I told her that I’d follow her to make sure she got into her office safely.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Bingham huffed. “This has been very distressing for Mr. Carlisle, and the notion—”

“Poor guy,” Kevin drawled. “Plotting murder always takes a lot out of a man.”

“The notion my client would be harmful to his wife is absurd.” Bingham sliced Kevin with an icy glare. “You hauled an innocent man off the streets and subjected him to brutality. As of this point, you’re on notice. If anyone in this department crosses the line and harasses my client again, I’ll make sure you all lose your badges.”

Matt rolled his eyes, clearly having reached the limit of his patience. “My officers will continue to act in the best interests of the public and if in doing that they so happen to step on your client’s toes—”

“Then it’s too bad,” Kevin interjected.

“If you so much as come near my client—”

“I have no intention of stepping one foot near your client,” Kevin warned, taking a step closer. “But you can tell him for me that I will be glued to his ex-wife from now on to make sure nothing happens to her. And if anything does, I’ll personally be hunting him down for that arrest.”

With a haughty lift of his chin, Bingham spun on his
heel and strode away without looking back. It took a moment before anyone spoke.

“That went well,” Martha said flatly with a tight smile, brushing the imaginary dust Bingham had left in his wake off the lapel of her navy suit. “Daria Carlisle did agree to having surveillance, Detective Gordon? Didn’t she?”

He sighed. “Not in so many words.”

Matt gave him a sidelong glance. “Exactly what words did she use?”

Kevin stole a quick glance at the district attorney, who quickly waved him off and said, “I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”

As Daria approached the house and pulled into the driveway she saw Kevin’s truck parked at the curb. He was waiting for her. She didn’t have to fear her ex-husband. Kevin’s scowl alone was enough to stop her dead in her tracks.

“Where have you been? You said you were going to be home around six.”

“Hello to you, too.” She leaned across the bench seat and picked up the flowers and glass vase.

Kevin’s eyes fixed on the flowers, his stare intense, before he lifted his eyes to her. The intensity of his gaze never waned.

She ignored his chilling look. She missed that fun-loving smile Kevin had had at the market. That would have been nice to come home to after the miserable day she’d had at work.

“When were you going to tell me?”

She feigned ignorance. “About what?”

His jaw squared. “You know what I’m talking about. Carlisle came to see you today.”

She couldn’t quite put a finger on what annoyed her more, greeting him when they were both in such a foul mood, or the fact that her ex-husband was all Kevin seemed to care about where she was concerned.

“I wasn’t,” she answered honestly. “He was long gone before I arrived at work. I didn’t think it was necessary to tell you.”