Читать книгу The Marriage Beat - Doreen Roberts - Страница 9
ОглавлениеChapter One
Trouble, Tyler Jackson reflected, usually came in threes. It didn’t help matters to be lying flat on his back on the cold hard floor of Central Precinct when that profound thought occurred to him.
The sudden blow to his midriff, which had put him in that embarrassing position, was trouble number one. The young woman scrambling off his stomach was definitely trouble number two. He hated to imagine what might be trouble number three.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said breathlessly. “I didn’t see you until it was too late. Are you all right?”
Of course he wasn’t all right. She’d barreled around the corner at sixty miles an hour and plowed straight into his stomach. The collision had knocked them both off balance and the polished floor had done the rest. He was still trying to get his wind back.
“I was in a hurry. I need help.”
Tyler looked up at his assailant. She wore a sea-green silky shirt with a black skirt that rose several inches above her knees. Her shirt matched her eyes. Gorgeous eyes. He forced his attention off that fact and concentrated instead on the distress he saw in them.
Using his hands, he lithely propelled himself back on his feet. The young woman looked impressed and he was momentarily distracted. Pulling himself together he asked abruptly, “What’s the trouble then? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m all right. It’s my purse. A man snatched it right off my shoulder.” She grabbed his arm and tugged at it. “Come on, he’ll get away with it if you don’t hurry.”
“Now just a minute...take it easy.” Tyler pulled his arm free. “I need to know exactly what happened.”
“I’ve just told you what happened.” She waved an impatient hand at the door. “A man stole my purse. I need someone to go after him and get it back. Right now.”
He pulled his notebook from his pocket. “Now just calm down and tell me where this happened.”
“It was on the South Park Blocks. But he’s not there now. He went down an alleyway on Park. If you’d just go after him he might still be there.”
Tyler’s first instinct was to find someone else to take the case. Anyone else. This woman was trouble. It wasn’t just her silky blond hair, or her full, warm lips and mouth-watering figure, though that was a deadly enough combination. It was her tone of voice.
If there was one thing Tyler had learned to avoid, it was a pushy female, and this one had all the earmarks of a bulldozer temperament.
Deliberately he poised his pencil over the pad. “What did he look like?”
“About five-eight or nine, skinny, dressed in jeans and a dark jacket.” She paused, frowning in concentration, then went on, “He has long, dark, straggly hair and needs a shave and a good wash by the looks of him. I’ll know him when I see him, I can promise you. Please, hurry.” A note of desperation crept into her voice. “I can’t lose my purse.... I just can’t. My whole life is in there.”
Her sudden look of vulnerability struck home. Instincts or not, this woman was in trouble and it was his duty to help. He happened to be on his way out anyway, he argued with his conscience as he snatched a pair of keys from the board on the wall and headed for the door.
Outside in the hot summer afternoon, he was halfway down the steps before she caught up with him. “Wait a minute. I’m coming with you,” she announced, with a note in her voice that dared him to refuse.
He was tempted to do just that. One look at her stricken face, however, and he relented. “All right. You can show me where he went.” He led her around the back of the building, did a fast check of the squad car, then opened the door on the passenger side. “Get in.”
For a moment she looked a little apprehensive, but then she slid into the seat and sat back, her shoulders hunched.
He climbed in beside her with a sense of impending disaster, though he wasn’t sure what prompted the feeling. He reached for his radio and called in his report, then started the engine. “I’m Officer Jackson,” he said, as he backed the car out of its space. “I didn’t get your name.”
“It’s Megan Summers.”
“All right, Megan, where did you say this incident happened?”
“On the South Park Blocks, just off Clay.” Her jaw was tense, he noticed, and her hands were thrust between her knees below the hem of her short black skirt. “I chased after him all the way down to Park, but then he went down an alley and I lost sight of him.”
Tyler frowned. “You went after him? That was a mistake. You should never attempt to apprehend a criminal. You must always assume that the suspect is armed and ready to use deadly force.”
“I wasn’t going to apprehend him. I just wanted to see where he went.”
“That’s just as dangerous. If he realizes you’re following him, he could easily take a shot at you to slow you down. That’s a sure way of getting yourself killed.”
She gave him a mutinous scowl. “I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.”
He smiled. “Lady, no woman is capable of taking care of herself on the streets. Or few men for that matter.”
Her expression told him she was unconvinced. “This is Portland, Oregon. You make it sound like one of those big-city slums.”
“When you’re facing a hunted man with a gun, it could be an amusement park for all the difference it makes.” He braked at the light and sent her a stern look. “A bullet can kill you just as dead.”
She lifted her chin. “Well, I think you’re overreacting. I didn’t see any gun. I knew what I was doing.”
That he doubted very much. All his earlier instincts had been on the button. This woman could be trouble. There was nothing more dangerous than a vulnerable woman who believed she was invincible. Especially one who refused to be convinced otherwise.
Obviously Ms. Summers resented being told what was good for her. He’d met women like her before. In fact he’d married one. The fact that the marriage had ended in disaster just went to prove he knew what he was talking about.
Giving up the argument for the time being, he pulled out into the middle lane. “We’ll cruise the streets for a while, but I doubt if we’ll spot him now.”
“We must find him. I absolutely refuse to let him have my purse.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”
“Nothing other than what I’ve already told you.”
“Then tell me again.” He listened to her description, his gaze raking the street on both sides as he drove up Main.
“I lost him when he turned down there,” she said, waving her hand at the corner, where a large truck was just backing out of the loading zone.
Tyler waited for the truck to pull out, then followed it around the corner. The main rush of the lunch hour was over, but there were still enough people hurrying down the sidewalks to make it difficult to pick out an alleged purse snatcher.
“I doubt if we’ll spot him now,” he said, after they’d driven several blocks. “He’s had too much time to go underground.”
She looked annoyed. “There must be something you can do. Can’t you call in some help or something?”
He hadn’t really expected to spot the suspect. Too much time had elapsed and there had been too many places to hide. He’d done his best with what little he’d had to go on, and he resented the implication that he was shirking his duty.
“I’ve done all I can for the time being,” he said evenly. “I’ve investigated the scene. Now we’ll go back to the station and fill out a report. I’ll give you some mug shots to look at and see if you can pick him out.”
There was no mistaking the antagonism in her voice when she answered him. “Meanwhile he’s out there spending my money. Besides, I’m supposed to be back at work. I’m real late as it is.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand when you explain the situation.” The light ahead of him turned green and he stepped on the accelerator. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hands curl into small fists. She wore no ring on her third finger, he noticed.
“Reports are not going to get my purse back. I’d rather be out on the streets looking for the man.”
“Risking your life. Not to mention the lives of other people who might be in the line of fire. I suggest you leave the police work to the people who are qualified to do it.”
She started to say something, bit back the words, then said carefully, “I’m afraid I don’t have time to fill out your reports. You can drop me off right here, thank you.”
He could just imagine the effort it had taken her to control her temper. He almost felt sorry for her. “Well, Ms. Summers, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist. A crime has been committed and it’s my duty to do everything I can to apprehend the suspect. If you have any hopes at all of recovering your property, I suggest you cooperate with me. I promise you I’ll be just as quick as I can.”
She slumped back against the seat so hard she jarred his shoulders. She kept quiet, however, and he pursed his lips in satisfaction. First round to him.
Megan was still fuming by the time they reached the station. Officer Jackson, she decided, had to be the most arrogant, patronizing, overbearing cop on the force. Trust her luck to be stuck with someone like him. She followed him into a noisy room filled with desks and people, resenting every step. It was really too bad that a man with his looks should be so downright domineering.
He wasn’t all that tall, about five-ten she figured, but he had the kind of athletic build that took lots of strenuous work to maintain. She couldn’t help noticing that the pants of his uniform fitted snugly across his hips, and his waistline was firm above his belt.
She let her gaze travel up his back to his straight dark hair. He’d worn sunglasses in the car, but she knew his eyes were a kind of silvery-blue. She could still remember the way he’d stared up at her when he was sprawled on the floor.
She felt bad about that now. She’d been in such a hurry to find a cop to help her she’d raced around the corner without stopping to think that someone might be coming the other way. She’d just about slammed all the breath out of her lungs when she’d smacked into his hard chest.
His feet had slipped on the polished floor and helped by her weight, they had both gone crashing down. She’d landed on top of him, and heard his grunt as her elbow dug into his stomach. The memory of his solid body underneath her was still vivid in her mind. In fact, thinking about it now sent a tingle down her back.
Officer Jackson led her to a desk in the corner of the room. “Take a seat, Ms. Summers.” He pointed to one of the office chairs facing the desk.
“Thank you.” She sat on the edge of the chair, her gaze drawn to the framed certificates on the wall behind the desk. There were photos, as well...and she spotted a picture of Officer Jackson shaking hands with another police officer.
“Now, let’s see.” He sat down at the desk and opened a drawer. “We’ll start with your name, address and phone number.” He pulled his notebook from his pocket and dropped it on the desk.
She gave him her address, realizing as she did so that all her identification had vanished along with her purse. Driver’s license, social security card, credit cards... “I have to put a stop on my credit cards,” she said, interrupting his next question.
“All in good time. Where do you work?”
“I’m a travel agent at the Starways Travel Agency. Or I was as of this morning.”
He ignored her wry comment and scribbled something down on his notepad. “What time did this incident occur?”
“About an hour ago.” She glanced up at the large clock on the wall above his head. “He’s had plenty of time to max out all my cards by now.”
“You won’t be held responsible for the charges,” Tyler Jackson murmured.
“I’m responsible for the first fifty on each one. That’s going to add up.”
Relenting, he waited impatiently while she made the necessary calls.
As she finished the last one, a disturbing thought occurred to her and she looked at him in dismay. “How am I going to get in my apartment without my keys?”
“I’m sure the manager will have a spare. Can you repeat the description you gave me one more time?”
She did so, rapidly and with rising resentment. He was taking this all very calmly, she thought, considering she’d been attacked in broad daylight on a downtown street. It was all right for Officer Jackson, he hadn’t just had his most valuable personal possessions stolen, with apparently little hope of getting them back.
The questions seemed endless, and for the most part pointless. With one eye on the clock, Megan answered them, feeling more and more frustrated with each passing minute. She’d be real lucky to have a job to go back to, she thought sourly, if this idiot didn’t quit with his ridiculous questions.
It was hard to concentrate in the noisy room, where several people seemed to be talking at once. Phones rang constantly, and the big burly cop standing by the door kept throwing glances her way, as if he were trying to listen in on the conversation.
“How much cash were you carrying?” Tyler Jackson asked, his pen poised above the notepad.
Her patience finally expended, Megan threw up her hands. “What difference does it make? It’s all gone by now, isn’t it? Is all this going to get my purse back? Or what’s left of it?”
“Probably not.”
“Then why are we wasting time? We could have found the man by now if we’d stayed out there looking for him, instead of filling out all this useless information.”
The silver-blue eyes regarded her with faint hostility. “This may seem useless to you, Ms. Summers, but every tiny detail is important. Even if we had found the man, there’s no guarantee I could have arrested him. We have to follow procedure in these cases.”
The enormity of her loss was just beginning to make itself known. Her bank accounts were probably empty by now, which meant bounced checks, embarrassing explanations, more endless forms and phone calls. She glared at Tyler Jackson as if it were all his fault. “I just don’t think you fully understand what it means to lose all your identification, not to mention a sizeable chunk of your finances.”
“I understand that you’re upset, but unfortunately once in a while stuff happens. Don’t you have any family who can help you out for the time being?”
“My mother lives on the other side of town and has her own problems. I’m not going to burden her with mine.”
“Well, you’re lucky. Lots of people don’t have that much.”
Including him, she guessed, sensing the bitterness behind that comment. He looked down at his notepad and gave his head a slight shake, as if disturbed by his own words. “I’ll get the mug shots,” he said, and pushed his chair back.
Megan sent another harried glance at the clock. “What are my chances of finding him in there?”
He shrugged. “Maybe one in fifty.”
“That’s what I figured.” She stood up, feeling empty-handed without her purse to hang onto. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
His mouth tightened. “I’m sorry, too. I’d be a little more careful in future, if I were you. If you hadn’t been walking around the city streets with your purse hanging conveniently over your shoulder, the snatcher might not have had such an easy time of grabbing it.”
Annoyed with his condescending tone she said hotly, “Maybe if there were more cops on the streets these things wouldn’t happen.”
Officer Jackson leaned forward, with a menacing expression that made Megan glad she wasn’t on the wrong side of the law. “This might be a safe city by most standards, but it’s got its share of deadbeats waiting for a handout. They’re just looking for someone like you to come along and make it easy for them.”
“Well, I think there’s something wrong with a city when you can’t walk around without fear of being attacked by some vicious thug.”
“There’s a lot wrong with the world today, Ms. Summers. Which is hardly the fault of law officers. We do our best. I would suggest, however, since you seem intent on putting your life on the line, that you get your locks changed. Just in case. You might also want to take self-defense lessons. The police force offers a course every eight weeks. They could give you the edge you just might need some day.”
She opened her mouth to give him a sharp answer, but then closed it again. That might not be such a bad idea. She thought about it for a moment or two. “All right, where do I sign up?”
He seemed taken aback by her question. He looked at her blankly for a moment, then glanced up at a calendar hanging on the wall next to him. “I guess you’ll have to wait until the fall. The class is full right now.”
“Jackson? A word with you, please?”
The command had come from the beefy cop by the door. Tyler looked over at him, and gave him a brief nod. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Megan. “There are a couple of things I need you to sign before you leave.”
Exasperated by yet another delay, Megan watched the two men disappear out of the door. She was beginning to feel that she would never get out of that room. The picture on the wall caught her eye again and she edged around the desk to get a closer look at it.
It was a photo of Tyler Jackson receiving a citation for bravery in the line of duty. It had been taken several years ago, judging from the image of a much younger officer smiling at his superior. She had actually begun to doubt that the man could smile. He looked quite different in the picture...more carefree, and undeniably attractive without that permanent scowl on his face.
According to the certificates on the wall, Tyler had put his life on the line more than once. In spite of her irritation with him, Megan couldn’t help admiring the tight-lipped cop. She’d always had a weakness for strong, dependable men, though she hadn’t met too many of them as yet.
There was no doubt that Tyler Jackson was a forceful, courageous man, and she just wished she knew what had changed him from that agreeable young man in the picture to the morose, cynical cop he was today.
In fact, she thought, as she took her seat at the desk once more, if he hadn’t had that annoying habit of ordering her around as if she were a teenager instead of a mature woman approaching thirty, she might be tempted to find out.
Captain Richard Stewart had always taken a personal interest in his men. It was the captain’s firm opinion that a good cop needed a happy, stable home life in order to do his job. It was also his considered opinion that Tyler Jackson’s home life fell far short of the ideal.
As far as Richard Stewart was aware, Tyler lived alone in a tiny studio apartment, ate mostly junk food and looked as if he could use more sleep. He rarely smiled, and the captain had never heard him joke with the rest of the guys. In other words, Tyler Jackson’s life was the pits, and Captain Stewart was very much afraid that one day that pitiful state of affairs might just cause a loss of concentration and cost Tyler his life.
What Officer Jackson needed, Captain Stewart decided, was a good woman. Someone who would be strong enough to stand up to the man and make him take better care of himself. The captain had no idea if Megan Summers was that woman, but she certainly seemed to be a nice lady and undoubtedly strong-willed. After watching the two of them together, there was absolutely no doubt in the captain’s mind about the spark that seemed to sizzle between the two of them.
Therefore, being the responsible captain that he was, Richard Stewart decided to take a hand in fate, so to speak, and give these two nice people a gentle nudge in the right direction. Which was why he’d called Tyler Jackson into his office.
Tyler, who was still trying to get his cool back after dealing with the argumentative Megan Summers, eyed his superior officer warily as he sat down in front of the desk. It wasn’t often that he was called into the captain’s office. He was trying to think of how he might have messed up.
“Jackson,” Richard Stewart said, folding his hands across his protruding stomach, “I understand that young lady out there wishes to take lessons in self-defense.”
Tyler nodded, wondering where this surprising statement was leading. “I told her the classes were full.”
“So I heard.” The captain leaned back in his chair and surveyed the ceiling. “She seems like a very independent young woman.”
Tyler twisted his mouth in a wry grimace before answering, “Yes, sir. Very.”
“In which case, I think she might well benefit from the lessons. Independent women have a habit of running into trouble.”
“Don’t I know it,” Tyler muttered. “I suggested she take the classes in the fall.”
“Ah.” Captain Stewart appeared to think that over. “In this case, Jackson, I think it might be wise to make special arrangements for that young lady.”
Tyler frowned, watching his captain with growing suspicion. “What kind of special arrangements?”
The captain lowered his chin and leaned forward. Fixing his piercing gaze on Tyler’s face, he said clearly, “I think she should have the lessons now.”
Tyler stared at him in bewilderment. “But the classes are full. Plus they’ve already started. It would throw the instructor off if Ms. Summers came in at this late date.”
“Exactly, which is why I think she should have private lessons.”
“Private lessons? But—”
“And you should give them to her.”
Tyler’s feet hit the floor as he bounced off his chair. “What? Why me? Are you nuts?”
The captain’s eyes narrowed and Tyler hastily added, “Sir?”
“I’m not nuts, as you so succinctly put it,” Stewart said mildly. “I happen to think that young lady would be a great deal safer if she knew how to protect herself in an emergency.”
“No doubt, but surely it can wait until the fall?”
“I don’t think so.”
Tyler had the distinct impression that something was brewing behind the captain’s stern expression, but he couldn’t for the life of him think what it might be. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Captain. I’d like to oblige, but my quota is full. I don’t have time to give self-defense lessons to anyone right now. Maybe later on....”
Captain Stewart could look almost murderous at times. This was one of those times.
“I said now, Jackson. I suggest you find time.”
Tyler made one last, desperate attempt. “But—”
“And that’s an order.”
Tyler clamped his lips tight shut before the curse slipped out. He waited a second or two, then muttered a quiet, “Yes, sir,” before turning on his heel to head for the door.
“Jackson.”
Tyler waited, his hand on the doorknob.
“This week, Jackson. No later.”
This time Tyler’s muttered, “Yes, sir,” was delivered through gritted teeth. On his way out he shut the door with a decisive thud. The old man was losing his marbles. Private lessons in self-defense? Where in the hell was he going to find the time? Who the hell wanted to spend what little spare time he had wrestling with a smart-mouthed woman who looked as if she’d break in two if he so much as touched her?
The thought of having to throw Megan Summers down on the floor was bad enough. The idea of teaching Megan Summers to throw him down on the floor was intolerable.
What was really intolerable, Tyler reluctantly admitted as he strode grimly back to the office, was that for a brief instant, when Megan Summers was scrambling to climb off him earlier, he had felt a distinct response in a place that hadn’t had a whole lot of action lately.
Now he knew where trouble number three was coming from. That, as far as Tyler was concerned, was the worst trouble of alL If he had to spend the next six to eight weeks wrestling with a woman who could turn him on that easily, he was heading for total disaster.
Inside the office, Megan looked up expectantly as the door swung open. Officer Jackson walked in, looking as if he would like to mow down everyone in his path. Obviously the news had not been good. She wisely decided to keep a still tongue as he sat down heavily at the desk.
He stared down at the notepad for so long she wondered uneasily if the bad news was connected to her encounter with the purse snatcher. She was about to ask him when he tore a sheet from the notepad, and looked up with a formidable expression that made her forget what she was going to ask.
“Read this over and sign here,” he said curtly, flipping the page across the desk.
She scanned the lines without comprehending what she was reading. She knew he was watching her, with a strange brooding expression that stirred up all kinds of unrest inside her. Her hand shook slightly as she picked up the pen he’d pushed across to her. Quickly she scrawled her signature and thrust the paper back at him. “Now am I free to go?”
“In just a moment.” He stared down at the page in his hand as if he’d never seen it before.
He was making her nervous. Something was obviously bothering him and somehow she just knew it had something to do with her. She couldn’t just sit there and wait all afternoon for him to tell her what it was.
“Officer Jackson—”
“Ms. Summers—”
They’d both spoken at once, and Megan waited, holding her breath.
“Ms. Summers,” Tyler Jackson said, a little more quietly, “I have been authorized to offer you private lessons in self-defense. Starting immediately.”
Of all the things she’d been expecting him to say, it certainly wasn’t that. She stared at him, forgetting to close her mouth.
Tyler gave her a look filled with desperation. “Of course, you are quite at liberty to refuse—”
She said the first thing that came into her head. “Who will be giving the lessons?”
She knew by his hunted expression what the answer would be long before he blurted out, “I’ve been appointed your instructor.”
Obviously under protest. She sat back, thinking furiously. She had no idea who had instigated this turn of events or why, but her first instinct was to refuse. Much as she would like to have the security of knowing how to protect herself, the mere thought of wrestling on a mat with the imposing, antagonistic cop was enough to turn her insides to jelly.
The fact that she felt a distinct thrill at the prospect only intensified the problem. She didn’t need any more complications in her life right now.
On the other hand, living alone did have distinct disadvantages. One of them was the feeling of vulnerability, brought home even more potently by Tyler Jackson’s observations on the criminal element in Portland. It was a feeling that did not sit well with Megan.
“I accept,” she said, before she could change her mind and chicken out.
Officer Jackson looked as if he were about to throw up. “Do you know Captain Stewart personally, by any chance?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“No. Not that I’m aware of, anyway. Why?”
He shook his head. “Forget it.” He stared at the calendar, looked back at her, then back at the calendar again. “How does Thursday night sit with you?”
“Thursday night’s just fine. Where?”
“The gym.” He scribbled down an address on a small yellow notepad. “Can you make it by six? We’ll have an hour before the volleyball team takes over.”
“I’ll be there.” She took the note and glanced at it. “Thank you, Officer Jackson.”
He passed a hand across his brow, sweeping back his hair. “Look...Megan, it will make things a lot easier if you just call me Tyler.”
He’d called her Megan earlier, she remembered. Then he’d changed it to Ms. Summers. Now he was back to calling her Megan again. She liked that a whole lot better. “Thank you, Tyler. You’ll let me know if you find my purse?”
He started, as if he’d forgotten why she was there in the first place. “Of course. Though I wouldn’t hold out too much hope if I were you. We rarely recover snatched purses, and even if we do, they are generally empty.”
He was just a little ray of sunshine, Megan thought, as she walked out of the office and down the hallway to the main doors. Whatever happened to positive thinking? But then, being a cop in today’s violent world probably didn’t allow much room for positive thoughts. More than likely, Tyler Jackson was just too busy trying to stay alive.
She walked slowly back along the six blocks to her office, aware that particular thought bothered her a great deal more than it should have. Already she was beginning to have a protective attitude toward him. This was not good.
She thought about calling him and canceling the lessons. Then she reminded herself that she was a grown woman and well able to take care of herself. If she couldn’t stay indifferent to a surly cop with an attitude, then she wasn’t her mother’s daughter.
With that thought squarely in mind, she marched back to her office and did her best to forget the steely eyes of Officer Tyler Jackson.
