Justice For Emily Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Patrick gazed at the faces of the mourners at Emily’s graveside service. It was apparent how many people loved her.
Emily grew up here in Brownwood, Texas, and always extended a helping hand to those around her. Although she was only thirty-three years old at the time of her death, over the years she had sculpted herself into the matriarch of the inhabitants of this small town. She genuinely loved the town and the people in it. Outside of her children, it seemed her only interests were helping those around her.
Joe Clapton and his wife, Cheryl, were here with their children. Several years ago, Joe lost his job, and they were finding it difficult to keep food on the table. When Emily heard of their circumstances, she started a food sharing program by visiting the local restaurants and convincing them to donate all cooked food that was earmarked to be thrown away so it could be distributed to those families who needed it instead.
Walt Sheridan was standing off to the side looking bereft. He had been a friend of Emily’s since grade school. When he was arrested for burglary, Emily went to visit him in jail to find out why he had chosen this path. She found out that he was unable to find work and felt he had no other options. Against her husband’s objections, Emily helped Walt start a successful lawn service.
Katie Spencer was also here with her boy, Joshua. Katie had been a sixteen-year-old girl who found herself pregnant. Once again, thought Patrick, enter Emily. Emily had provided Katie with emotional support as well as advice on her options. Emily’s influence resulted in her keeping her baby and finishing high school.
There were hundreds of people here for this woman who had made a difference in their lives in small ways and in large ways.
Patrick’s attention turned to Boyd Campbell, Emily’s husband and his boss. A rage so deep that Patrick felt it ripple through his entire being gripped at his soul, making him edgy. It was apparent Boyd felt Emily did not deserve a funeral. He probably wouldn’t have had the graveside service except there were so many people in town who loved Emily that he felt he had to do something to keep up appearances. Noticeable to all, Boyd failed to bring the three most important people in Emily’s life to say goodbye: her children.
Patrick remembered the night of Emily’s death. Lucas Graham and his wife were at Brownwood Regional Medical Center having their first child so Patrick was covering his shift. The call came in from Boyd himself. He stated, clearly agitated, that Emily had killed herself, and he wanted her body removed as soon as possible so the children would not see her.
That was two days ago. Boyd had systematically skirted all protocol in regard to Emily’s death. He wanted no investigation, no autopsy and no funeral. Patrick’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he recalled what Boyd had said to him the night Emily died: “Get the bitch out of here immediately. I’ll sign off on this. I’m Chief of Police here, and nobody will question it.”
Boyd had her body cremated the following day, and here they were two days after her death grieving for her at her grave. There was no way in hell Patrick could let this stand as it was. He knew deep down that Boyd had killed her. He was just going to have to figure out how to prove it in a manner that Boyd wouldn’t realize an investigation was underway.
As soon as the pastor was done, Boyd turned and left without a backward glance.
Patrick watched as the townsfolk moved forward, said their goodbyes and left. When everyone was gone, he moved forward. He looked at the deep, cold hole in the ground with what was left of Emily. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I promise you, Emily, that I will not let him get away with this. Thank you for everything you did for me and the people around you.”
He tossed a rose into the hole and walked away.
CHAPTER 2
Patrick wanted to rehash the events of yesterday, and he couldn’t do it at the station. He had to get out for a while so he could think clearly, away from his boss. He knew deep down in his heart that Emily was murdered. How did you prove it, though, when her husband was your boss, the Chief of Police? How could you prove a cover-up with no evidence and no crime scene? Patrick had the skills to investigate this, but under the circumstances, those skills were going to be challenged.
As often happened in difficult situations, Patrick thought about his mother. Being Irish and having had some heavenly gifts of her own, she was always his rock. He spoke aloud, “Mom, I need your help. I’ve seen you do amazing things with your gifts, and I’ve never doubted them. I’m asking you to please bestow on me whatever I need to help uncover the circumstances behind Emily’s death. I’ve promised her my help. I know that you’ll understand when I tell you that this is the most important thing I will ever do in my life. Please guide me in the right direction. I love you, Mom.”
Emily had been his friend. Her children had been the most important part of her life, and now they were going to grow up without her. For their sake, he had to succeed.
While patrolling, Patrick saw a stopped car in the distance with a woman leaning over the closed hood. She was looking at something spread out on her hood, probably a map. He wondered as he got closer why she kept standing up and flailing her arms in the air. Oh great, he thought, he had another lost, crazy person on his hands.
He slowed, pulling in front of her vehicle, but she was so agitated she didn’t notice him. As he got out of the cruiser, she was yelling, and then he noticed a cell phone on top of her car alongside an atlas.
Getting out of his car very carefully, he moved to the front and leaned against his car’s hood to watch her. As any observant police officer would do, he took in all the details. She was bent over her car, looking at the atlas, and she had an incredible ass. She was wearing tight jeans and a form-fitting shirt that showed off her well-muscled arms and shoulders. She had an extremely small waist. This woman definitely had an hourglass figure. He couldn’t see what her hair looked like because it was under a ball cap. With her cell on speaker, she was wildly flipping through the pages in the atlas.
He heard the voice on the phone saying, “Rachael, I know you need the time, but our witness in the Mendoza case has disappeared. We—”
She stood straight up to her full height of five-feet, six inches tall and put her hands on incredibly sexy hips. “What do you mean our witness disappeared? Her life isn’t worth spit on the street. You had better find her, Justin, or she’ll be dead by the end of the week.”
She instantly had Patrick’s full attention.
“She has family in Northern Arizona. I know the Chief of Police in Elk Bend. His name is Michael Rogers. Call him and tell him I gave you his name. Tell him you need to get the name of the best detective in Flagstaff to help you find a missing witness in an ongoing homicide investigation who has family in the area. Make sure they understand that the other witnesses in this case have permanently disappeared.”
Being Irish, Patrick had always believed in fate, but could the heavens have possibly been so good to him as to plop a homicide cop right in his lap at this moment in time? Smiling, he whispered, “Thanks, Mom.”
He didn’t care why she was here. He didn’t care about any problems she might have. He didn’t care if she had someone waiting for her. He was going to do whatever was necessary to keep her here to investigate Emily’s death. With his mind and body on high alert, he continued listening to the conversation.
She bent back over the atlas, flipped through a few more pages, picked it up and threw it as far as she could. “Ah, good riddance!” she yelled.
“What did you say?” Justin asked. “Good riddance? What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
“Let me guess, Rachael,” Justin said with humor in his voice. “You’re lost, and you’ve just destroyed your map.”
“I’m not lost. I’m on vacation and traveling the country. You can’t get lost if there’s no destination in mind.”
“Really?” he challenged her. “What state are you in?”
When she turned to look at the atlas she had thrown, she noticed Patrick leaning on the hood of his patrol car. She walked up to him, looked at his police identification patch and turned back to the phone. “I’m in Texas.”
Patrick chuckled, wondering how it was possible that she had made it all the way to central Texas and not known what state she was in. It sure sounded like fate was working overtime to him.
Looking directly at Patrick, she put her index finger up to her very sexy mouth.
Justin was laughing. “What direction are you traveling in, Rachael?”
“Are you my mother, Justin, or are you my partner? I’m hanging up now. Remember, you better find our witness before the bad guys do or she’s dead, and we have no case. Concentrate your efforts in that area instead of where I may or may not be located at any one moment in time.” She hung up.
Turning back to Patrick, she extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Rachael Merchant, and I’m directionally challenged.” They both laughed.
“I’m Patrick Sheehan. I see by your cap that you’re Phoenix PD.”
Absentmindedly, she reached up and touched her cap. “Two days ago I was Phoenix PD. Now I’m an avid vacationer seeing the country.” Moving for the passenger side of her car, she reached in, pulled out two cold bottles of water and handed one to Patrick.
“Thanks for not giving me up about not knowing exactly where I am.”
He smiled. “Not a problem but tell me something: how do you get to central Texas and not know you’re in Texas? I never would have thought that possible. By the way, do you know what direction you’re traveling in?”
Throwing him a grin that could have stopped traffic, she said, “Sure, that way.” She pointed confidently down the road. “If you feel you must be rude enough to bring my directional dysfunction up, then I’ll tell you that I’ve just been driving. I haven’t really paid any attention to where I was going, and I’ll leave it at that.
“My mind seems to work on other things when I’m behind the wheel, and I get lost because of it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “They won’t let me drive at home when I’m on the job because you never know where I’ll end up.”
Snorting in disgust, she went on. “I ask you, what the hell good are those atlas maps? Do you know the states are in alphabetical order in that book? That would be fine if you drove the states in alphabetical order, but I’ve found that’s not the case.”
Patrick laughed and said, “Have you thought of getting a GPS? You sound like the perfect candidate.”
Her laughter rang out with gusto until she bent over in surrender. “I’m even more mechanically challenged than I am directionally challenged. Besides that, those things yell at you. I’m on vacation and don’t need the stress.”
Patrick liked the sound of her laugh. It wasn’t one of those little laughs a lot of women have. It was robust—one where you could almost feel the vibration drawing you in until you were helplessly laughing along with her.
“I tell you what, from one law enforcement officer to another, why don’t you follow me into town? I’ve got a good map in my car. We can have lunch and discuss where your trip may take you.”
Pausing, he asked, “By the way, do you believe in fate?”
With a serious look on her face, she answered, “Yes to the lunch question, and no way to the fate question. Being a homicide detective in a large town has taught me many things. The most important of which is that there are people out there who enjoy taking what they believe to be other people’s fate and shitting all over it, thereby waiving any fate the victim may have had. So no, I’m not big on the whole fate thing.”
She was funny, cynical, and sexy as hell, he decided. Her voice was low and smoky sounding, almost as if she purred when she talked. To Patrick her face was exotic, and he wished he could see what she looked like without the Phoenix PD cap on her head.
Too bad for you, Rachael, Patrick thought as he smiled at her. Fate has stepped in, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.
He wondered why she was vacationing alone. He was sure this woman normally had men chasing her wherever she went. He couldn’t wait to find out why she was by herself.
Watching him size her up, she waited for him to finish. “Do I pass?”
He snapped back to the present and gave her the grin that knocked most women to their knees. “Oh, yeah!” he replied with enthusiasm.
She smiled back at him. “I’m hungry. You lead, and I’ll follow. Just one thing: don’t get too far ahead of me, and if you see me veer off, you might want to come find me.”
They both laughed, got in their vehicles and headed into town. When they got to the diner, Patrick parked in back and waved Rachel to the front parking lot. They met at the front door and walked into the diner together. Looking over the menu, Patrick ordered the half-pound double-stack burger, fries and a Coke when the waitress arrived.
Rachael looked up at the waitress. “I’ll have the same, only a chocolate milkshake to drink.”
After the waitress left, he asked, “Do you really think you’re going to be able to eat all of that?”
“I may be a girl, but I like food. Nothing green for me. Just give me a large portion of beef, some fries sopping in grease, and I’m happy. No one has ever accused me of being a cheap date,” she said as she chug-a-lugged her water.
Patrick was trying to decide the best way to approach her about taking a sneak peek at what there was of Emily’s file when he noticed that although Rachel was looking at him, she had a strange, faraway look in her eyes. She was definitely someplace else. Her hands were clenched into fists on the tabletop, and her breathing was erratic. Her eyes had glazed over, and her mouth was slightly parted. She seemed to be in some kind of trance.
Concerned, he reached out to touch her and got shocked. It was like touching a high-voltage wire. What the hell was going on here?
Suddenly, she came around. She quickly looked behind their table to see how many people were in the diner and then turned to look out the window toward the front parking lot.
“Call for backup,” she said. “Call now. A lime green, old beat up car is going to pull up out front. The driver is going to stay in the car, and the passenger is going to come in and rob the restaurant. Call for backup now!”
He stared at her. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Dammit! There they are. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this. Don’t let the perp see you. He’ll run if he sees your uniform, and I won’t be able to help him.”
He looked out the window, and sure enough, the car she described had just pulled up, and the young, pimple-faced passenger was getting out with a small caliber gun in his hand.
Stunned, he watched while she pulled a Sig Sauer out of her boot, pushed the woman behind the cash register to the ground and waited for the gunman to come in.
As soon as he approached her, he held his gun up and yelled, “Give me all of your money or I’ll blow your fucking head off!”
Smiling, she raised her gun and countered, “Throw your gun down, sweet pea, and you’ll live to see your mama for supper tonight. You’re under arrest.”
Startled, he tossed his gun and squealed like a little girl but was unable to act fast enough to avoid Patrick, who came up behind him and cuffed him.
He shrieked, “It wasn’t loaded. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just need the money.”
Rachael looked at the perpetrator. “Does Kyle have any weapons in the vehicle with him?”
The boy looked at her and asked warily, “How do you know my brother’s name?”
Agitated, she demanded, “Answer me. Are there any more weapons in the car?”
“No, he’s afraid. Please don’t hurt him. He’s my little brother,” he wailed.
Staring at Rachel, Patrick shouted over the still squealing boy, “What the hell is going on here?”
Ignoring his question, she said, “I’m going to get Kyle. Do you have more cuffs?”
“Bullshit. You are not going out there. You could get hurt. What the hell is going on here?”
“I’ll explain later, Patrick, but right now I have to get Kyle out of that car. You can’t go because you’re in uniform, and he’ll run and possibly injure innocent people.”
She flung her Phoenix PD cap down on the counter and used her hands to hurriedly brush back the most magnificent strawberry blond hair Patrick had ever seen. How had this situation gotten out of control so fast?
As she turned to leave, she said, “I’m going to get in the passenger side of the vehicle. When you see me throw the keys out the window, come and get him.”
She put her gun in her pants at her back, walked out of the restaurant and straight for the open passenger door of the lime green car. She skillfully drew the gun as she got in beside Kyle and announced, “This is a holdup. Give me your keys.”
Panicked, Kyle said, “No! No! No! You don’t understand. My brother is inside holding the restaurant up. We need the car to get away in. Please, if you take the car, my brother is going to be really pissed.”
Without changing expression, she said, “Wow, it really sucks to be robbed, doesn’t it?”
Hopeful , he asked, “Can I keep the car?”
She furrowed her brows as if in deep thought. “Okay. You can keep the car, but you’re under arrest for participating in an armed robbery. Give me the keys.”
Poor Kyle put his head down on the steering wheel and started to cry. “My mama is going to be really mad at me. How am I going to explain this?”
She grabbed the keys and threw them out the window. Patrick came running.
“I’m going to offer you a little advice, Kyle. This is not a good line of work for you or your brother. You both suck at it.”
Patrick pulled him out of the car and handcuffed him.
Rachael got out and said over the hood, “Tell your mama, Kyle, that you love her and swear you will never do anything this stupid again. Tell her you’ve learned your lesson. Trust me on this. She’s a mom. She may be mad for a while, but she loves you, and she’ll forgive you as long as you’re sincere. And remember, Kyle, that actions speak louder than words. If your mom is anything like my mom, I’d be real careful about disappointing her again.”
The backup finally arrived. Gritting his teeth, Patrick said, “You’ll need to come with us to the station to write up the reports. I want to have a serious discussion with you after the reports are done so don’t think you’re going anywhere until we’ve talked.” Waving his hand in the air in frustration, he asked, “What the hell was that? Is that how you do police work in Phoenix?”
She gave him her most provocative smile and in a sexy, deep voice, innocently inquired, “You mean catching the bad guys? Yeah, we’re really good at that in Phoenix.” Then she turned and walked back inside the diner, leaving him standing on the sidewalk feeling ridiculous.
TO PURCHASE CLICK HERE
Back to Home
Patrick gazed at the faces of the mourners at Emily’s graveside service. It was apparent how many people loved her.
Emily grew up here in Brownwood, Texas, and always extended a helping hand to those around her. Although she was only thirty-three years old at the time of her death, over the years she had sculpted herself into the matriarch of the inhabitants of this small town. She genuinely loved the town and the people in it. Outside of her children, it seemed her only interests were helping those around her.
Joe Clapton and his wife, Cheryl, were here with their children. Several years ago, Joe lost his job, and they were finding it difficult to keep food on the table. When Emily heard of their circumstances, she started a food sharing program by visiting the local restaurants and convincing them to donate all cooked food that was earmarked to be thrown away so it could be distributed to those families who needed it instead.
Walt Sheridan was standing off to the side looking bereft. He had been a friend of Emily’s since grade school. When he was arrested for burglary, Emily went to visit him in jail to find out why he had chosen this path. She found out that he was unable to find work and felt he had no other options. Against her husband’s objections, Emily helped Walt start a successful lawn service.
Katie Spencer was also here with her boy, Joshua. Katie had been a sixteen-year-old girl who found herself pregnant. Once again, thought Patrick, enter Emily. Emily had provided Katie with emotional support as well as advice on her options. Emily’s influence resulted in her keeping her baby and finishing high school.
There were hundreds of people here for this woman who had made a difference in their lives in small ways and in large ways.
Patrick’s attention turned to Boyd Campbell, Emily’s husband and his boss. A rage so deep that Patrick felt it ripple through his entire being gripped at his soul, making him edgy. It was apparent Boyd felt Emily did not deserve a funeral. He probably wouldn’t have had the graveside service except there were so many people in town who loved Emily that he felt he had to do something to keep up appearances. Noticeable to all, Boyd failed to bring the three most important people in Emily’s life to say goodbye: her children.
Patrick remembered the night of Emily’s death. Lucas Graham and his wife were at Brownwood Regional Medical Center having their first child so Patrick was covering his shift. The call came in from Boyd himself. He stated, clearly agitated, that Emily had killed herself, and he wanted her body removed as soon as possible so the children would not see her.
That was two days ago. Boyd had systematically skirted all protocol in regard to Emily’s death. He wanted no investigation, no autopsy and no funeral. Patrick’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he recalled what Boyd had said to him the night Emily died: “Get the bitch out of here immediately. I’ll sign off on this. I’m Chief of Police here, and nobody will question it.”
Boyd had her body cremated the following day, and here they were two days after her death grieving for her at her grave. There was no way in hell Patrick could let this stand as it was. He knew deep down that Boyd had killed her. He was just going to have to figure out how to prove it in a manner that Boyd wouldn’t realize an investigation was underway.
As soon as the pastor was done, Boyd turned and left without a backward glance.
Patrick watched as the townsfolk moved forward, said their goodbyes and left. When everyone was gone, he moved forward. He looked at the deep, cold hole in the ground with what was left of Emily. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I promise you, Emily, that I will not let him get away with this. Thank you for everything you did for me and the people around you.”
He tossed a rose into the hole and walked away.
CHAPTER 2
Patrick wanted to rehash the events of yesterday, and he couldn’t do it at the station. He had to get out for a while so he could think clearly, away from his boss. He knew deep down in his heart that Emily was murdered. How did you prove it, though, when her husband was your boss, the Chief of Police? How could you prove a cover-up with no evidence and no crime scene? Patrick had the skills to investigate this, but under the circumstances, those skills were going to be challenged.
As often happened in difficult situations, Patrick thought about his mother. Being Irish and having had some heavenly gifts of her own, she was always his rock. He spoke aloud, “Mom, I need your help. I’ve seen you do amazing things with your gifts, and I’ve never doubted them. I’m asking you to please bestow on me whatever I need to help uncover the circumstances behind Emily’s death. I’ve promised her my help. I know that you’ll understand when I tell you that this is the most important thing I will ever do in my life. Please guide me in the right direction. I love you, Mom.”
Emily had been his friend. Her children had been the most important part of her life, and now they were going to grow up without her. For their sake, he had to succeed.
While patrolling, Patrick saw a stopped car in the distance with a woman leaning over the closed hood. She was looking at something spread out on her hood, probably a map. He wondered as he got closer why she kept standing up and flailing her arms in the air. Oh great, he thought, he had another lost, crazy person on his hands.
He slowed, pulling in front of her vehicle, but she was so agitated she didn’t notice him. As he got out of the cruiser, she was yelling, and then he noticed a cell phone on top of her car alongside an atlas.
Getting out of his car very carefully, he moved to the front and leaned against his car’s hood to watch her. As any observant police officer would do, he took in all the details. She was bent over her car, looking at the atlas, and she had an incredible ass. She was wearing tight jeans and a form-fitting shirt that showed off her well-muscled arms and shoulders. She had an extremely small waist. This woman definitely had an hourglass figure. He couldn’t see what her hair looked like because it was under a ball cap. With her cell on speaker, she was wildly flipping through the pages in the atlas.
He heard the voice on the phone saying, “Rachael, I know you need the time, but our witness in the Mendoza case has disappeared. We—”
She stood straight up to her full height of five-feet, six inches tall and put her hands on incredibly sexy hips. “What do you mean our witness disappeared? Her life isn’t worth spit on the street. You had better find her, Justin, or she’ll be dead by the end of the week.”
She instantly had Patrick’s full attention.
“She has family in Northern Arizona. I know the Chief of Police in Elk Bend. His name is Michael Rogers. Call him and tell him I gave you his name. Tell him you need to get the name of the best detective in Flagstaff to help you find a missing witness in an ongoing homicide investigation who has family in the area. Make sure they understand that the other witnesses in this case have permanently disappeared.”
Being Irish, Patrick had always believed in fate, but could the heavens have possibly been so good to him as to plop a homicide cop right in his lap at this moment in time? Smiling, he whispered, “Thanks, Mom.”
He didn’t care why she was here. He didn’t care about any problems she might have. He didn’t care if she had someone waiting for her. He was going to do whatever was necessary to keep her here to investigate Emily’s death. With his mind and body on high alert, he continued listening to the conversation.
She bent back over the atlas, flipped through a few more pages, picked it up and threw it as far as she could. “Ah, good riddance!” she yelled.
“What did you say?” Justin asked. “Good riddance? What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
“Let me guess, Rachael,” Justin said with humor in his voice. “You’re lost, and you’ve just destroyed your map.”
“I’m not lost. I’m on vacation and traveling the country. You can’t get lost if there’s no destination in mind.”
“Really?” he challenged her. “What state are you in?”
When she turned to look at the atlas she had thrown, she noticed Patrick leaning on the hood of his patrol car. She walked up to him, looked at his police identification patch and turned back to the phone. “I’m in Texas.”
Patrick chuckled, wondering how it was possible that she had made it all the way to central Texas and not known what state she was in. It sure sounded like fate was working overtime to him.
Looking directly at Patrick, she put her index finger up to her very sexy mouth.
Justin was laughing. “What direction are you traveling in, Rachael?”
“Are you my mother, Justin, or are you my partner? I’m hanging up now. Remember, you better find our witness before the bad guys do or she’s dead, and we have no case. Concentrate your efforts in that area instead of where I may or may not be located at any one moment in time.” She hung up.
Turning back to Patrick, she extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Rachael Merchant, and I’m directionally challenged.” They both laughed.
“I’m Patrick Sheehan. I see by your cap that you’re Phoenix PD.”
Absentmindedly, she reached up and touched her cap. “Two days ago I was Phoenix PD. Now I’m an avid vacationer seeing the country.” Moving for the passenger side of her car, she reached in, pulled out two cold bottles of water and handed one to Patrick.
“Thanks for not giving me up about not knowing exactly where I am.”
He smiled. “Not a problem but tell me something: how do you get to central Texas and not know you’re in Texas? I never would have thought that possible. By the way, do you know what direction you’re traveling in?”
Throwing him a grin that could have stopped traffic, she said, “Sure, that way.” She pointed confidently down the road. “If you feel you must be rude enough to bring my directional dysfunction up, then I’ll tell you that I’ve just been driving. I haven’t really paid any attention to where I was going, and I’ll leave it at that.
“My mind seems to work on other things when I’m behind the wheel, and I get lost because of it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “They won’t let me drive at home when I’m on the job because you never know where I’ll end up.”
Snorting in disgust, she went on. “I ask you, what the hell good are those atlas maps? Do you know the states are in alphabetical order in that book? That would be fine if you drove the states in alphabetical order, but I’ve found that’s not the case.”
Patrick laughed and said, “Have you thought of getting a GPS? You sound like the perfect candidate.”
Her laughter rang out with gusto until she bent over in surrender. “I’m even more mechanically challenged than I am directionally challenged. Besides that, those things yell at you. I’m on vacation and don’t need the stress.”
Patrick liked the sound of her laugh. It wasn’t one of those little laughs a lot of women have. It was robust—one where you could almost feel the vibration drawing you in until you were helplessly laughing along with her.
“I tell you what, from one law enforcement officer to another, why don’t you follow me into town? I’ve got a good map in my car. We can have lunch and discuss where your trip may take you.”
Pausing, he asked, “By the way, do you believe in fate?”
With a serious look on her face, she answered, “Yes to the lunch question, and no way to the fate question. Being a homicide detective in a large town has taught me many things. The most important of which is that there are people out there who enjoy taking what they believe to be other people’s fate and shitting all over it, thereby waiving any fate the victim may have had. So no, I’m not big on the whole fate thing.”
She was funny, cynical, and sexy as hell, he decided. Her voice was low and smoky sounding, almost as if she purred when she talked. To Patrick her face was exotic, and he wished he could see what she looked like without the Phoenix PD cap on her head.
Too bad for you, Rachael, Patrick thought as he smiled at her. Fate has stepped in, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.
He wondered why she was vacationing alone. He was sure this woman normally had men chasing her wherever she went. He couldn’t wait to find out why she was by herself.
Watching him size her up, she waited for him to finish. “Do I pass?”
He snapped back to the present and gave her the grin that knocked most women to their knees. “Oh, yeah!” he replied with enthusiasm.
She smiled back at him. “I’m hungry. You lead, and I’ll follow. Just one thing: don’t get too far ahead of me, and if you see me veer off, you might want to come find me.”
They both laughed, got in their vehicles and headed into town. When they got to the diner, Patrick parked in back and waved Rachel to the front parking lot. They met at the front door and walked into the diner together. Looking over the menu, Patrick ordered the half-pound double-stack burger, fries and a Coke when the waitress arrived.
Rachael looked up at the waitress. “I’ll have the same, only a chocolate milkshake to drink.”
After the waitress left, he asked, “Do you really think you’re going to be able to eat all of that?”
“I may be a girl, but I like food. Nothing green for me. Just give me a large portion of beef, some fries sopping in grease, and I’m happy. No one has ever accused me of being a cheap date,” she said as she chug-a-lugged her water.
Patrick was trying to decide the best way to approach her about taking a sneak peek at what there was of Emily’s file when he noticed that although Rachel was looking at him, she had a strange, faraway look in her eyes. She was definitely someplace else. Her hands were clenched into fists on the tabletop, and her breathing was erratic. Her eyes had glazed over, and her mouth was slightly parted. She seemed to be in some kind of trance.
Concerned, he reached out to touch her and got shocked. It was like touching a high-voltage wire. What the hell was going on here?
Suddenly, she came around. She quickly looked behind their table to see how many people were in the diner and then turned to look out the window toward the front parking lot.
“Call for backup,” she said. “Call now. A lime green, old beat up car is going to pull up out front. The driver is going to stay in the car, and the passenger is going to come in and rob the restaurant. Call for backup now!”
He stared at her. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Dammit! There they are. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this. Don’t let the perp see you. He’ll run if he sees your uniform, and I won’t be able to help him.”
He looked out the window, and sure enough, the car she described had just pulled up, and the young, pimple-faced passenger was getting out with a small caliber gun in his hand.
Stunned, he watched while she pulled a Sig Sauer out of her boot, pushed the woman behind the cash register to the ground and waited for the gunman to come in.
As soon as he approached her, he held his gun up and yelled, “Give me all of your money or I’ll blow your fucking head off!”
Smiling, she raised her gun and countered, “Throw your gun down, sweet pea, and you’ll live to see your mama for supper tonight. You’re under arrest.”
Startled, he tossed his gun and squealed like a little girl but was unable to act fast enough to avoid Patrick, who came up behind him and cuffed him.
He shrieked, “It wasn’t loaded. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just need the money.”
Rachael looked at the perpetrator. “Does Kyle have any weapons in the vehicle with him?”
The boy looked at her and asked warily, “How do you know my brother’s name?”
Agitated, she demanded, “Answer me. Are there any more weapons in the car?”
“No, he’s afraid. Please don’t hurt him. He’s my little brother,” he wailed.
Staring at Rachel, Patrick shouted over the still squealing boy, “What the hell is going on here?”
Ignoring his question, she said, “I’m going to get Kyle. Do you have more cuffs?”
“Bullshit. You are not going out there. You could get hurt. What the hell is going on here?”
“I’ll explain later, Patrick, but right now I have to get Kyle out of that car. You can’t go because you’re in uniform, and he’ll run and possibly injure innocent people.”
She flung her Phoenix PD cap down on the counter and used her hands to hurriedly brush back the most magnificent strawberry blond hair Patrick had ever seen. How had this situation gotten out of control so fast?
As she turned to leave, she said, “I’m going to get in the passenger side of the vehicle. When you see me throw the keys out the window, come and get him.”
She put her gun in her pants at her back, walked out of the restaurant and straight for the open passenger door of the lime green car. She skillfully drew the gun as she got in beside Kyle and announced, “This is a holdup. Give me your keys.”
Panicked, Kyle said, “No! No! No! You don’t understand. My brother is inside holding the restaurant up. We need the car to get away in. Please, if you take the car, my brother is going to be really pissed.”
Without changing expression, she said, “Wow, it really sucks to be robbed, doesn’t it?”
Hopeful , he asked, “Can I keep the car?”
She furrowed her brows as if in deep thought. “Okay. You can keep the car, but you’re under arrest for participating in an armed robbery. Give me the keys.”
Poor Kyle put his head down on the steering wheel and started to cry. “My mama is going to be really mad at me. How am I going to explain this?”
She grabbed the keys and threw them out the window. Patrick came running.
“I’m going to offer you a little advice, Kyle. This is not a good line of work for you or your brother. You both suck at it.”
Patrick pulled him out of the car and handcuffed him.
Rachael got out and said over the hood, “Tell your mama, Kyle, that you love her and swear you will never do anything this stupid again. Tell her you’ve learned your lesson. Trust me on this. She’s a mom. She may be mad for a while, but she loves you, and she’ll forgive you as long as you’re sincere. And remember, Kyle, that actions speak louder than words. If your mom is anything like my mom, I’d be real careful about disappointing her again.”
The backup finally arrived. Gritting his teeth, Patrick said, “You’ll need to come with us to the station to write up the reports. I want to have a serious discussion with you after the reports are done so don’t think you’re going anywhere until we’ve talked.” Waving his hand in the air in frustration, he asked, “What the hell was that? Is that how you do police work in Phoenix?”
She gave him her most provocative smile and in a sexy, deep voice, innocently inquired, “You mean catching the bad guys? Yeah, we’re really good at that in Phoenix.” Then she turned and walked back inside the diner, leaving him standing on the sidewalk feeling ridiculous.
TO PURCHASE CLICK HERE
Back to Home