Читать книгу Her Kind Of Hero - Carol Steward - Страница 9

Luke finished Miss Giovanni’s statement just as his partner radioed from the car that he was ready to call it a night. With all the reports they had to fill out, Luke didn’t argue, but silently confessed he wouldn’t have minded spending a little more time with Calandre Giovanni.

Back at the station, Luke opened the locker room door; a strange mixture of aftershave and gun metal slapped him in the face. After the night he’d had, a room full of his fellow officers should have been a relief. It wasn’t.

He shrugged the blue shirt off and straightened his uniform on the hanger, trading it for his street clothes. The young officer next to him was doing just the opposite. “What a night,” Luke said.

“What’s wrong, lucky Luke? Tired of leaping tall buildings in a single bound?” Vic Taylor drawled with distinct mockery.

Luke felt the muscles in his jaw tighten when he saw the smirk on the rookie’s face. In no mood to confront the kid, Luke attempted to be civil. “Nah, piece of cake, Taylor. One kid in a coma, a woman who narrowly escaped losing her eyesight, and a city full of drivers who act like they’ve never seen icy roads before. Not to mention the two punks in the slammer for breaking into a dozen cars and nearly beating the life out of a friend. All in a night’s work.”

“You are so lucky. You always get the excitement.” Taylor spat a four-letter word as he poked a finger in Luke’s face. “All week I’ve been called off before I saw any action. You’d think my wife worked in dispatch or something.”

Luke laughed before he lost what little self-control he had left. “Don’t be so eager, kid. The action’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

The rookie adjusted his belt and puffed his chest out, as if ignoring Luke’s advice.

“And by the way, it has nothing to do with luck.” Luke tugged the gray T-shirt over his shoulders and rubbed the ache buried deep in his muscle. He noticed his partner, Tom, coming into the locker room.

When Luke turned around, the rookie was strutting into the briefing room.

Luke flung the leather jacket over his shoulder then slammed the metal locker door closed. “What’s Taylor’s problem? If he thinks two hours of paperwork and tagging thirty items into the evidence room is fun, he’s got a lot to learn.”

His partner chuckled and slapped Luke’s shoulder sympathetically. “Let it go, Luke.” Tom continued. “I’ve learned the best way to deal with people like Taylor is to let their ignorant comments roll off your back.”

The reality of his best friend’s comment sobered him. Luke glanced at Tom and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Tom. After all these years, it just isn’t right that a person’s race still brings such discrimination.”

“Nothing for you to apologize for.”

An icy draft followed the command sergeant through the door from the parking lot, his shotgun slung from one shoulder and bag in the other hand. “Good work tonight,” he said, nodding toward Luke and Tom. “One by one, we’re putting those gangs out of business. Did the kid come out of the coma?”

Luke shook his head. “I’m going to check in on him throughout the day. If he doesn’t, we really need that witness. The two suspects won’t talk.” Luke chugged the last of his cold coffee, watching as Tom moved his duty weapon from his belt to a waist-pack “holster.”

After securing his handgun, Tom looked at Luke. “I still think we had a break tonight I’ll lay you odds that our anonymous caller is that blonde you nearly wiped out in the parking lot.”

“Just what we need. A woman determined to eliminate Palmer’s worst gang single-handedly. Why doesn’t A.C. volunteer at one of the after-school programs or something safe?”

“Maybe she already has gang connections.”

Luke didn’t like that possibility at all.

“We should check out gang members’ ex-girlfriends. Could be one trying to settle a personal vendetta.”

“Against the whole gang?” Luke shook his head. “No way. But whatever the lady’s reasoning, she’s playing with fire.” An image of the flustered blonde in the white truck flashed into his head. Couldn’t be her. After three years, A.C. would be too used to the streets to get that upset over a little skid.

He rinsed his coffee mug and set it in the cupboard to dry, then tossed his taped report to Tom. “Can’t believe neither of us got a look at that license plate.”

His partner placed both microcassettes in the manila envelope and filed them for transcription. “Nothing more we could’ve done. It was a bad angle. No light Backup hadn’t arrived. You know as well as I do, she was low priority.”

“I should have told her to stay put so we could talk to her,” Luke mumbled, continuing down the hall to the parking lot.

“Go home and chill. We’re going to find A.C. It’s just a matter of time.” Tom disappeared from view, leaving only his footsteps echoing on the marble stairs.

“Don’t hold your breath. She’s as elusive as the Eastsiders’ leader himself.” Luke knew there were few on the force who believed that the same woman was responsible for the majority of their tips. Thank goodness, his partner happened to share his theory.

Tilting his head from one side to the other, Luke hoped to shrug off the tension in his shoulders and the headache lurking behind his eyes. Tom was right, he needed to loosen up. Twelve years on the force was going to be the end of him if he didn’t find some way to enjoy life again.

He recalled the woman’s dark eyes and fair skin—recalled the quick recovery she’d made, slipping back into control in those brief seconds of their encounter. Tom’s suspicion that she was their informant crossed his mind again. No way. I’m just not that fortunate.

“Hey, Northrup. Hear your lady tipped you off again! One of these days, you’re going to have to introduce us. Bet she’s hot.” Laughter followed as the officers from the next shift made their way to the squad cars and loaded their gear.

Luke feigned a good-natured rebuttal, too tired to care if they were being funny or serious. “Better watch it, boys. A.C. is good, and she just may be after your job.”

The laughter stopped abruptly. Luke pulled his legs into the sports car and closed the door to the hoots and jeers that would follow his idle banter. Revving the engine, he backed out, then shifted into drive.

“Lord, help me find this lady, before it’s too late.”

* * *

Mrs. Maloney had already prepared Jon’s breakfast and done the dishes when Luke arrived.

“Morning, Dad.”

“Hey, sport. I’ll take you this morning. Don’t forget to return your spelling test today.”

“I have it.”

“Then let’s get going. Traffic is a mess.”

After he dropped his son off at school, Luke decided to stop for breakfast, then go by the hospital to check on the kid. And Calandre Giovanni.

Luke wasn’t sure what it was about the woman that intrigued him. Maybe it’s that interesting name—Calandre. He smiled. The name itself sounded strong. Determined. Spunky. And the woman? Well, the name fit. Perfectly.

He tried to justify seeing her again. Am I crossing the line between personal and professional? He didn’t like the answer, so he looked at the situation from another angle. Deciding the least he could do was make sure she found someone to help her until the doctor allowed her to remove her bandages, Luke proceeded. Even one day without his eyesight would send him up the walls. Nothing wrong with offering to help.

Luke stopped at Teodoro’s and greeted Teddy warmly.

“Good morning, Luke.”

“Make me two breakfasts to go. Say, do you happen to know a blonde who drives a white 4 Runner in your neighborhood watch group?” Luke dug his wallet from his pocket.

“Blonde, 4 Runner,” Teddy repeated, frowning. “No. Doesn’t sound familiar. Something wrong?”

“We’re looking for a witness. Thought she may have been the one. Thanks anyway, Teddy.” Luke waited for his food, then paid and left.

Walking into Calli’s hospital room, he felt helpless. Before him was a woman who was totally vulnerable. She lay on her side, her left arm propped on a pillow. Her short black hair was a mess, her thin lips pale and dry and her delicate features were mottled with bruises. What in tarnation am I doing here? Just as he considered turning and walking away, she moved.

“Mmm…Teddy’s breakfast burritos.” Her voice was soft.

“That’s quite a nose.” He wanted to elaborate, but figured he was pushing the boundaries by coming back at all. After all, he had met her in the line of duty. He’d consoled his conscience with the knowledge that he wasn’t the primary officer on her case, and, since completing the statement, was now officially “off” the case.

“Sergeant Northrup…”

“Just Luke. I’m off duty.” He opened the paper sack and unloaded two foil-wrapped packages.

“Oh,” she said, her voice unable to conceal her puzzlement. She fumbled with the pillow, then the bed controls, obviously uncomfortable with his return. “Did you need me to answer more questions?”

He cleared her untouched breakfast tray from the bed table, glad she couldn’t see the guilt-laden grin across his face. “No, I uh, wanted to check on the kid, and thought I’d stop in to see how you’re feeling…. As long as I’m here. I have an extra burrito if you’d like one. I see you don’t think much of the food here.”

There was a long pause, then the corner of her mouth lifted. “I plead the Fifth. But I never turn down Teddy’s burritos. Thanks. You’re off duty, and you’re here? Aren’t you tired?”

“Takes me a few hours to wind down after a crazy shift like last night’s.” Luke unwrapped the burrito and placed it in her long fingers. She was enchanting—even in this state. Visiting her was not the best way to unwind, he reflected.

“How is your other patient?”

Here she lay uncertain of her own future, and she seemed more concerned about a total stranger’s condition. Luke wished he could brush her worries away. “Still in a coma.”

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t ask for the details, for which he was eternally grateful. He didn’t know how he could’ve politely told her he couldn’t discuss an open case. Especially when one witness lay in a coma and the other had left without a trace.

It seemed like forever since there’d been anyone he’d been remotely interested in. Which made it even more difficult that Calandre Giovanni’s case had to involve him. “I understand you get to go home today.” Ingenious, Northrup. You’d think this is the first woman you’d talked to.

“I guess so. The doctor says there’s no need to hang around here. The bandages make it look worse than it is. I think they’re trying to slow me down.” She ran her fingers over her head. Or what little hair was exposed anyway. She tentatively explored the gauze and slipped a finger under the edge and scratched her temple. “My things…from my truck. Are they here?”

“Just your clothes and purse. Whatever else you had, you can pick up at the salvage yard where your car was towed.”

“Salvage yard?” She nibbled her lower lip.

“That’s where vehicles are taken until the damage has been determined.” He wondered if she had someone who could take her to get her belongings. “If you’d like, I could take you to clean it out.”

Again, the silence was ominous. Her tone changed from the friendly exchange they’d established to one of total skepticism. “Thank you for offering, but I’ll manage. My cousin is on her way with clean clothes.”

“Okay. If you need anything, feel free to call me. Here’s a card with your case number, the responding officer’s name and my number if you have any questions.” After visiting for a while longer, he placed his business card in her hand and left.

At home two days later, Calli found the switch to turn on the radio, and rocked in the antique chair. Music was the only thing she could enjoy without her sight. Running her fingers over the card in her hand, Calli wondered why Sergeant Luke Northrup had really returned. She inhaled, flustered as much by the fading aroma as she had been the man.

At first she thought he’d discovered a connection to the apartments when filling out the remainder of the report, but later she began to wonder if the personal interest was mutual. Yet she still couldn’t allow herself to call, even to thank him for his kindness. He was a cop.

It didn’t matter that he had a soothing voice that made her forget her past. Or manners that her grandmother would applaud. Or enough compassion to rewrite her personal definition of law enforcement officer. He was still a cop.

Until she met with the doctor to get the bandages removed, Calli could do little besides rest and wonder if Luke Northrup was really as wonderful as first impressions left her believing. Even if the nurse was exaggerating about Luke’s appearance, it wouldn’t matter. Looks weren’t at the top of her list. But then again, cops weren’t, either. In fact, they were no longer anywhere on her list. For more than one reason she reminded herself.

From the little she’d talked with Luke, her instincts said he wasn’t a typical police officer. When he left her hospital room, Calli felt a longing to be someone she wasn’t. An innocent bystander instead of a silent witness. Suddenly she wished she’d been born to a washer repairman instead of to an army officer. She longed to know Luke better, if only circumstances were different. If only she was different.

She’d tried to change. Even her grandmother had tried to help. Tried to teach her to crochet baby blankets and bake angel food cakes. Had tried to instill in her the more “delicate” aspects of women’s traditional roles. Calli had almost succeeded in dousing the embers of her fiery temperament. Until that night three years ago.

The shrill ring of the telephone startled her from the unsettling walk down memory lane. She fumbled for the receiver and answered.

“I see from the newspaper that you’re still patrolling.”

The gruff tone caught her off guard, but it didn’t take more than a second to recognize his voice. It had been months since she heard from him, yet she immediately felt herself cowering to his authority. With a blind search for her glass, she took a drink of water to smooth her vocal cords. “Yes.”

“I worry about you, Calli.” His voice softened.

Her hand moved to the bandages on her head. She couldn’t even argue that point with him today. So how could she ever make them understand? Patrolling wasn’t something she wanted to do. She had to. Someone had to care enough to stand up against the criminals who were tainting the city. Yet she said nothing.

“It’s too late to help Mike. It’s not too late to help yourself,” he added.

Calli took a deep breath, then swallowed. “You taught me to be careful. I know how to protect myself.”

“Your best protection is to stop. It’s not your job,” he insisted. “Let the police clean up the streets.”

You taught me to care, to stand up for what’s right. This may not be two countries fighting, but it’s still war. How can you not understand? she wanted to scream at him, but the words caught in her throat.

“We’ve already lost a son.”

“I have to go, Daddy. Give Mother my love.” Calli hung up. She rested her bandaged head in the cradle of her hands. Oh, Daddy, don’t you see? Just because I’m a girl it doesn’t mean I can’t fight my own battles. I have to do something to protect the helpless.

She knew the day would come when she would have no choice but to blow her cover, mission accomplished or not. Once she testified on any case, everything would change. She wouldn’t be able to keep a job working with the public. She’d have to watch over her shoulder. And, she realized, it could even mean losing her own identity. Each night she asked herself the same question: Is it really worth it?