“Yes, I’ll be here until eight tonight.”
“I’ll see you in twenty minutes, Detective.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
The conversation ripped open the wound that had never really healed. She clutched her aching chest, pressed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall, and took deep breaths. Stay calm. I can’t help if I’m a wreck. The last thing I want is the police questioning my accountability. She’d prayed for this day for a long time before giving up hope of ever seeing it come true. It’d hardened her, turned her bitter until her friends snapped her out of it. Dahlia, Devlin, and Judy were more than friends; they were her sisters. If it hadn’t been for them she never would’ve made it out of the black hole that had consumed her life after that horrible night. Maybe after this she could get some real closure.
****
“I’m looking for Detective Quinn.”
The soft voice in the exterior room caught his ears. He recognized her from the phone call.
“He’s right through that door, Ma’am.”
He rose from his desk to greet her.
The woman who appeared in the doorframe a few moments later was nothing like what he’d expected. He remembered her vaguely from his time on the case. She was a mousy, petite thing, with a slim build, tailored pants, plain pull over sweater, and skin the color of roasted toffee. Her large, brown eyes had been haunted by the horrors she’d witnessed. How that lost waif had turned into this vision of womanly perfection he wasn’t sure. Clad in a form fitting, shiny black dress that cinched in at the waist and flared out around her she could’ve stepped off a movie set from the 1950’s. Her cheeks had a rosy glow, and her full lips were painted red.
“Detective Quinn?”
His gaze darted to her left hand. Not married. “Yes, Ms. Reading?”
She nodded. He moved around his desk and held out his hand. She offered up her own. Her small, French-manicured hand was engulfed. Soft, warm, and delicate it served as a visual reminder of who he was pulling late nights for and fighting to keep safe.
“Thank you for coming down here so swiftly. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I handled this case with my partner, Detective Morgan, eight years ago.”
“I remember you, Detective Quinn. You were one of the few to keep fighting with me when everyone else had long given up. Thank you for that. I wasn’t able to fully express myself then. I was much too consumed by grief.” She brought her other hand up to cover the back of his. His pulse jumped.
“There’s no need to apologize, or thank me. This is my job.” Her compliments, and the compassion in her eyes, made him uneasy. Her face kept him awake many nights. He’d been one of the first on the scene. I’ll never be able to forget the way she’d looked bathed in blood and tears. When they arrived she had a complete melt down. He broke his personal rule that night, held her close and promised her everything would be all right, swore he’d catch the men who did this, allowing the case to become more than a number.
Even when he’d been ordered not to dig anymore he’d continued. But it was like Markus Vasquez and his accomplice had disappeared from the country. Given how close they were to Mexico, it was likely they had.
“Maybe, but you actually care. That’s more than I can say about a lot of others.”
“Thank you, Ms. Reading.” He removed his hand, grateful to escape the heat that had begun to seep into his skin and penetrate the thick wall he kept his feelings behind. Emotional and police officer were two words that spelled disaster when placed too close together.
“Call me Claire.”
“Claire. Please sit.”
He walked around the desk to sit in his chair facing her.
”We brought a man in on a misdemeanor charge and when we ran his prints this came up. Because we lifted his prints from the scene you won’t have to do a line-up, just agree to testify in court.”
“Consider it done.”
“Good. A lot of time people get scared, don’t want to face down the perp, and we have to let them walk.”
“You won’t have to worry about that with me. Detective Quinn, I’m a roller derby girl. I don’t intimidate easily.”
Fuck. The confident statement was accompanied by a smirk that sent the blood in his body straight to his dick. There was nothing sexier than a strong, capable woman. The fact that she was stunning didn’t hurt either. It’d been a long time since a woman moved him. He was so used to long hours, and self-gratification, so the insta-attraction had him off his game. I’m supposed to be fixing things for her, not trying to get into her pants. I’m ten years her senior, for Christ’s sake. What had once made him feel like a silent protector to a young woman who’d seen too much was in danger of fast becoming a different connection all together.
He cleared his throat. “That’s good then. Shall we fill out some paperwork and get the ball rolling?”
“Yes, please.”
I can think of some very different situations when I’d like to hear her say those two words. Jordan was right. I need to get a life