Читать онлайн книгу «Her Kind Of Hero» автора Carol Steward

Her Kind Of Hero
Carol Steward
A SINGLE DAD, A SON…A FAMILY?Calli Giovanni wanted nothing to do with romance–or the law. But persistent policeman Luke Northrup wouldn't give up.His warm smile and tender embrace chased the shadows from her heart and brought peace to her troubled soul. In Luke's happy home, she found herself part of a loving family as the dedicated single dad showed Calli how bright her future could be.For years, Calli had struggled, seeking justice for her brother's senseless murder. A daring, secret quest that had put her at odds with the law. But did she have the courage to put away the past? And to surrender her secrets to Luke…and to love?



Table of Contents
Cover Page (#ued6bb3bf-8c10-57b0-a5a8-480ff2479e02)
Excerpt (#uc01c75b9-8669-5276-9d6d-bfdec1dbb252)
About the Author (#ua5431611-4ada-5c94-b0a5-2b54400ff0cb)
Title Page (#u1129aa7b-a9c2-55e0-9f02-4ac54f7d376a)
Dedication (#ub2df9c4e-f25d-532a-b23c-caaf985e1e96)
Acknowledgments (#u4ffb77b9-85c4-5e32-bc65-4892fd1c613f)
Chapter One (#ueeebbd81-54c1-53da-9377-f312c8ab88fc)
Chapter Two (#u46c2e5b9-5d16-5118-b9d8-22ef7b32319d)
Chapter Three (#uade0fb5a-ccce-5070-a30e-45da779e24bd)
Chapter Four (#ue966c145-36fb-5aef-b146-30f5a71d8794)
Chapter Five (#u058f8de6-dd6b-5a14-91b7-afc3121396b1)
Chapter Six (#u3632cd07-0ddc-5b98-9316-13cda91dc945)
Chapter Seven (#ua2771f35-9e6b-5123-b883-7dcac46d17b8)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

For the moment, there were no shadows across Calli’s heart.
Only a warm, sunny glow. One that had faded long, long ago.

She relaxed, snug in police officer Luke Northrup’s safe embrace.

This was what she needed, Calli realized. Luke. Witty and compassionate, stubborn yet funny, he knew who and what he was. He had his priorities straight—fatherhood first, law enforcement second—and he didn’t require anyone to affirm his convictions.

Yes, Sergeant Luke Northrup was a man of integrity.

Calli sadly backed away from him.

For the last thing he needed was a woman with none.
CAROL STEWARD
Carol Steward has always been creative. She says, “When I was sixteen, I bought my first key chain. It said Bloom Where You’re Planted, and I’ve tried to follow that advice ever since.” She eventually followed God’s leading to write inspirational stories about men and women overcoming insurmountable obstacles to find that special person who, along with Christ, can make their life complete.

Colorado has been home to Carol for more than thirty-two years. She and her husband have also lived in Wyoming and North Dakota. Their three teenagers keep their lives from becoming mundane. Together, their family enjoys sports, camping and discovering Colorado’s beauty.

Having volunteered for several organizations, Carol encourages others to strive to learn something from each opportunity. “Raising my family is a very rewarding priority in my life. Their love and encouragement continually inspires my own personal growth.”

Carol is a full-time child-care provider, opening her heart and home to six additional preschool children. She finds it very rewarding nurturing God’s little miracles. She also enjoys exercising her creativity through tole-painting, sewing, needlework and cake decorating. Refinishing furniture and collecting Noah’s Ark pieces are just a few of the extras that keep Carol busy in her “spare” time.

Her Kind of Hero
Carol Steward


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For when we were with you, we told you beforehand that we were to suffer affliction; just as it has come to pass, and as you know. For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I sent that I might know your faith, for fear that somehow the tempter had tempted you and that our labor would be in vain.
—1 Thessalonians 3:4-5

Acknowledgments (#ulink_689fbe5e-f6e8-583d-85e3-01b8344bae5c)
To my father, Tom Bohannan, for a lifetime of insight on law enforcement and showing me that there’s a hero in each of us. Ken, Todd, Tim, Ed and the Greeley Police Department for their insights and for letting me experience firsthand the excitement and danger of police work.

My husband and kids for their never-ending encouragement. Anne for having faith in my ability to write this story. Helen, Sally, Ellen, LeAnn, Lynn, Margaret, Linda and Bette for motivating me to write through this challenging year. And to the Creator for inspiring me to share these stories.

Chapter One (#ulink_74c5e91b-2f7c-5f9a-8fb4-aaf6a71621f9)
Calli Giovanni walked through the stained-glass doors praying that she would someday experience the peace of forgiveness.
Why can’t I let it go?
“You can’t get discouraged,” her cousin Hanna said, following her through the doors. “Don’t expect healing to happen all at once. It isn’t easy. Like tonight’s speaker said, it’s one miserable step at a time. For tonight, go home. Stop patrolling.”
“I can’t, Hanna. I would think you’d understand. He was my kid brother. I want justice served. I can’t let it go.”
“I do understand, Calandre. More than you think.” Hanna took Calli by the shoulders. “Who can’t you forgive, Calli? The killer? Or yourself, for not seeing Mike slip out of the house?”
Calli turned and stared into her cousin’s moist eyes. “Neither.” Her own tears dried up years ago. All that was left was this numbness. She was an emotional zombie.
“Don’t you see what this is doing to you?” Hanna asked.
“It’s not worth it. You don’t laugh. You don’t cry. You barely exist.” Hanna paused, then unlocked her car door. “Go home. It’s time for you to stop.”
Calli never finished her college degree. Her brother had been killed at the beginning of her last semester. She’d set new priorities. Priorities that cost her dearly. Her family, her fiancé, her happiness. All in hopes of finding answers. “That’s easier said than done.”
Hanna hugged Calli. “You can do it. Just don’t give in. Sorry I have to rush off, but I’m expecting a call at ninethirty. Take care.” Her petite cousin slid into her sports car and waved.
“That’s my problem, Han. I don’t ever give up. I don’t know how.” Calli took off her down-filled coat and tossed it into the passenger’s seat, her voice a whisper into the darkness. She watched Hanna drive away without a care in the world. “It’s cost me everyone I loved, and I still can’t let it go.”
Her mother, father, older brother and even her sister were like distant relatives. They had put the past behind them and moved on. Recovered. Only she was stuck trying to erase the shadows lurking in her mind. Fighting the unknown in a city of dark corners and unlit alleys. Doing the only thing she could to avenge her brother’s death.
Thinking of Mike, she closed the door and reached under her seat. Calli pulled out a zippered bag and stared at it, considering giving up on this thankless mission. She zipped the pouch open and emptied the contents into her lap. “Just one patrol before I head home. Maybe tonight’s my lucky night.” She tugged the long blond wig over her own hair and covered her lips with tropical punch-colored lipstick. Horn-rimmed glasses completed the disguise. Good grief, I even look like Aunt Calandre.
It was a quiet night in Palmer, Colorado. Calli spent over an hour cruising without anything to report. Feeling a sudden chill, she reached for the heat control, only to find it was already set on high and pumping hot air into the small compartment. Calm down, Cal. There’s not even any action.
As she continued down the alleys and streets lined with dilapidated buildings, Calli prayed. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me.”
She perused the business district, then paused to consider what she was doing before turning toward the city’s core. It was a neighborhood within a neighborhood. A place where nothing was sacred. Not property, not values and especially not human life.
The only thing flourishing here was the Eastsiders, a gang that preyed on the weak and helpless.
Maybe they would provide her with some clues. After all, that was the gang her brother had allegedly been joining when the “initiation” went too far.
Adrenaline pulsed through her veins as she turned into the parking lot of a dimly lit apartment complex. Her breathing became shallow and ragged. Why do I keep doing this? Is it even worth it anymore?
A shiver raced up her spine and Calli quickly glanced left, then right. The rays of the streetlight reflected off of the glistening ground. She dialed “911 send” on her cellular phone just as three figures bolted from the icy parking lot toward the apartments, dodging cars and jumping wobbly handrails. “Gotcha.”
One threw a small crowbar at her, hitting the front fender.
“911 Emergency.”
“Columbia Boulevard and 15th Street.” Calli swallowed, trying to smooth her raspy voice as it scratched through the wires. “The Willows Apartments. There’s broken glass everywhere.”
One teenager slipped and fell to the ground. Calli skidded to a stop inches from him. He got up and looked at her, his dark eyes filled with fear. He glanced behind him, then stumbled ahead to where his cohorts had disappeared.
“Ma’am, are you there?” the 911 operator repeated.
Calli’s heart pounded faster and she dragged in another breath. Shadows wrapped their arms around her. Streetlights flickered. Vines covered apartment windows like victorian lace curtains. Calli shivered. Where’d they go?
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m fine. Three kids…” Calli pressed on the accelerator. She searched beyond the tinted glass for any movement as she drove slowly toward the exit to conclude the loop. She wanted desperately to leave before the officers arrived, armed with endless questions and expectations.
“They’re wearing dark clothing, bulky coats.” She paused, hoping to recall more. “One wore a starter jacket…and a bandanna. A blue bandanna.” She turned the last corner before the exit. “They weren’t very tall. Around sixteen, maybe younger.”
The woman stopped her and repeated the information, then asked for more details.
Calli knew the more she could remember, the better the chance that justice would be served. “One had bleached blond hair, the other two had dark hair. I think one’s hurt.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, then abruptly stopped. They’d be here any minute. Time to go. Calli thought of the gang’s leader with a wretched sense of pleasure. Another bust. She may not be able to find the proof she needed to put the gang’s leader away, but she could make Tiger’s “work” more difficult.
She stepped on the gas pedal but it was too late. A white police car fishtailed as it rounded the curve. It slid on the ice and headed toward her.
Calli pumped the brakes. Time stopped, and the terror seemed to continue in slow motion. It was no use. Her tires couldn’t grip.
She pressed the brakes again. Harder. Still nothing. Finally she slammed her foot to the floorboard and gripped the steering wheel, directing her skid away from the police cruiser.
Her four-wheel drive slammed into the curb and jerked to a stop. Seconds later, the officer pulled closer and rolled down his window. The set of his strong, square jaw personified authority. She couldn’t look away from the deep-set eyes and rugged features that expressed sincere concern.
Trembling, Calli opened her window. The dark-haired officer leaned out of his car. “Are you okay?”
She nodded stiffly, and they drove on, into the parking lot. Pull yourself together, Cal. Get going. She shifted into first and stepped on the gas.
The truck didn’t budge.
Depressing the clutch, Calli turned the key. “Come on, start.” Without allowing the engine to settle into an even idle, she pulled away.
“That was too close for comfort. I’ve got to get out of here. Where’s the phone?” She found it in the far corner of the floorboard and shut it off, then turned south on Columbia Boulevard. A few minutes later, flashing lights beckoned in her rearview mirror as backup turned into the apartment complex. “They’re all yours, guys. I’ve done as much as I can.”
Calli’s heart raced in an unsteady rhythm as the motor purred down the street. Four miles later, she pulled into the parking lot of Teodoro’s, the Quonset hut-turned restaurant she frequented. She clicked off the ignition and leaned her head against the seat. Darn it, Calli. You’re pushing too hard. You’ve got to stop.
Tugging the bristly hair from her head, she stuffed the blond wig into the bag and let out a deep breath. She gazed into the rearview mirror, removed the glasses and studied herself disapprovingly. After wiping the gauche color from her lips, she applied ointment to help remove the remaining tint. The near-accident replayed in her mind as she yanked a brush through the matted mess of black curls. She had hung around too long, almost long enough to meet the cops in person. That was one complication she didn’t need.
Stuffing the sundries and the makeup bag into her purse, she slammed the truck door, then walked to the restaurant entrance. Calli took a deep breath and tugged the glass-and-iron door open, anxious to meet friendly faces.
“May I help you?” the young woman asked.
Calli didn’t even consult the menu. “Barbaccoa with black beans instead of pintos, and a large diet cola.” She watched as rice and beans were piled onto the tortilla, then salsa and shredded beef. Last was the cheese and sour cream.
Teodoro’s owner, “Teddy” Chavez, greeted her with a smile. “Your usual, eh, Calli? What are you doing out this late?”
She let his friendly wink soothe her nerves. A member of her neighborhood watch group, he knew very well what kept her out this late. Yet he always shared her silent celebration at making it through another night safely. She glanced at the staff, and went along with the conversation. “Couldn’t wait for one of your burritos. Just thinking of them keeps me awake at night.”
“That’s no good. Ah, well, eat and enjoy.” He turned to his employees and rattled off directions to them while Calli crossed the room and seated herself in the plywood chair. She rested her head in her hands and begged her heart to slow down.
Eating alone beneath the dangling halogen light bulb was much too comfortable. She sliced the giant burrito into two halves and set one aside for tomorrow’s lunch. Her kid brother had always teased her about eating when she was upset If he could only see her now. Listening to alternative music in a dingy restaurant, trying to forget the goodlooking cop who’d nearly run her over.
Calli pulled the journal from her purse and turned to today’s date.

January 22, 11:05 p.m.
She documented her evening’s patrolling events, descriptions and response time of the local law enforcement on the blank pages.
Calli had started journaling in her early teens, as a way to deal with the loneliness of frequent moves, foreign languages and the other drawbacks of being an army brat. But in recent years the pages were filled with fewer emotions, and more details.
She thought through the events of the day, then wrote.
Has no one ever realized the guilt I feel? Surely they have. Over and again, Mom and Dad tell me it wasn’t my fault—that Mike had snuck out before, that nothing anyone had tried had helped him. Why can’t I move on?
It was not my fault. But maybe if someone had called the cops, maybe he’d be alive today.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “As in David’s day, I see violence and strife in our streets, on city walls. Be my shelter and my strength, Father.”
How can I stop now? Community involvement is making a difference. The neighborhood’s crime rate has dropped. I have to keep trying.
The media tries to convince us that gangs are losing their appeal. They say gang members are frightened off by friends getting hurt and others sent to prisons. Yet, every week, I still see them out there, luring innocent kids into believing that they’ve found a place to belong. Tempting them with the promise of easy money. Trapping them into a life without hope.
Calli recalled the look in the youth’s eyes as he stared at her. Fear, raw and exposed, spoke to her.
What was that kid looking back for? A way out, or someone they left behind?
Police sirens jolted her back to the present. The cruiser sped past the front of the restaurant. The officer she’d nearly collided with reappeared in her mind. His concerned gaze lingered there, like an unwelcome guest. Reflections of light glimmered over his handsome face. She shook her head. He’s just another cop. They all have that look.
Thankful that she took the time to don her disguise, Calli wondered if they would place her as the caller. Did they get her license number? Hopefully she’d gotten away before they had the chance.
How can I give up now? There has to be a way to help kids like that.
The pen stopped.
Kids like Mike. She never believed that he wanted in to the gang. Never allowed herself to see him as needing something more in his life. Maybe she’d been wrong. About Mike, and the gangs, and thinking she could make a difference—to anybody.
She noticed the employees wiping Formica-topped tables, wrapping stainless-steel food bins and polishing the glass block room divider.
“Calli, we’re closing.” Teddy set a foil sheet next to her plastic basket. “For your leftovers.”
She finished chewing and gulped her soda to wash the bite down her dry throat. After closing her journal, Calli wrapped the extra half. “Thanks, Teddy. Have a good night.”
“You be careful out there.”
“Always.” She left the eatery, climbed into her truck and turned west, toward her apartment. It was after midnight, and morning would come early.
Fog rolled in from the river and a fine mist coated the streets with black ice. Even four-wheel drive wouldn’t help in conditions like this. The light ahead turned green and Calli took her foot off the gas pedal. From the side street, a truck spun out of control.
She tried to determine a way to avoid it, but there was no escape. The truck rammed the passenger door, pushing her vehicle into another car parked along the street. Her head slammed into the driver’s side window and shattered the glass.
Calli screamed, then covered her eyes with her hands, feeling a cold draft. She tried again to open her eyes, but they hurt too much. She pulled on the door handle, but the door didn’t move.
“Help! Help! Someone help me.” A few minutes later, sirens wailed. Voices commanded that she not try to move. Louder and louder the noise grew, then stopped. The fireman knocked away the remaining glass from the door. After the paramedic took Calli’s vitals, he reassured Calli that they would have her out soon.
Calli awoke to pitch black. She tried to blink and found her eyes were covered. Reaching out, she felt a hard rail to her side. Her head hurt and her left arm ached. She vaguely remembered an accident and an ambulance.
Where am I?
The room was silent except for beeping noises in the distance. She licked her parched lips and grimaced. She heard breathing, then footsteps, followed by a warm deep voice.
“Calandre Giovanni? I’m Sergeant Northrup, Palmer Police Department.”
The police? What are they doing here? Am I just imagining an accident? Or is this about the break-ins at the apartment complex? For all she knew, he may not even be a cop. “Where am I?”
“University Hospital. You were in an accident.”
Calli gasped, then let out a moan as she tried to move. She must have been seated, as her mind was fuzzy. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Let me call the nurse for you.” He stepped out of the room, and was gone for a few minutes.
His voice sounded familiar. What were the chances that he was the patrolman who’d nearly wiped her off the road? Next to zero, she assured herself. If the officers who’d responded to that call had caught the kids, they were probably still at the juvenile facility booking them at this very moment.
When the cop returned, Calli decided she’d rather ask questions than answer them. She needed time to clear her mind. “Where’s the nurse?”
“It’ll be a few minutes before anyone can come down. Emergency room’s a busy place tonight. You okay?”
“Do I look okay?”
He stammered a minute, then apologized. “I meant, you’re not going to be sick or anything, are you?”
“I’ll live. Were you the officer at my accident?”
“No. That would be Jake Williams. He asked me to take your statement while I’m here. I came in with an unrelated ambulance call.”
Hysteria threatened to return to her voice. She swallowed, trying to soothe the scratchiness. Absently she ran her dry tongue over her lips.
“Need a drink?” Without delay she felt the officer lean against the bed. “Here.” She lifted her hand, ready for him to place a paper cup in her hand. Instead she felt a strong hand wrapped around a huge insulated-type mug. Pursing her lips to drink, she jumped when she felt the brush of his fingertip against her lower lip as he placed a straw in her mouth.
He chuckled. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you what to expect.”
Embarrassed that all of her assumptions were wrong, making her feel even more helpless, Calli resented the warmth of the personal contact between them. She jerked her hand away. “Thanks. That’s enough.” The sooner she got rid of him, the better. The last thing she needed was a cop to keep her company. “So what do you need from me?”
“Just need to ask a few routine questions. No hurry. I’m here waiting to talk to another patient. My partner’s still on the streets. Sheesh, they’re a mess tonight. You’d think these drivers had never seen ice before.”
Calli tried to sit up, and failed. She heard him bump into something, then felt a strong hand on her arm.
“Can I help?”
“I want the nurse. Where’s the call button?”
His warm hand fumbled with hers and gently guided her fingers toward the side of her bed. His baritone voice was edged with control. “Here’s the call button.”
A calm confidence echoed his voice, and the scent of his aftershave sent a shiver of awareness through her.
Memories from her past tainted the image of this knight in shining armor. Calli realized that not only did she not have a clue as to what Officer Northrup looked like, but she had no idea if this man was really a cop. I’ve been watching too much television. He couldn’t be the one I saw earlier.
“I’m sure it’s frightening not to be able to see anything. You may not even believe I’m a police officer. Who could blame you, after the night you’ve had?”
The fact that he’d read her mind made her more suspicious. “Sorry, I’m not used to…” trusting people.
“You’re cautious, just as you should be under the circumstances.”
“Cautious.” Now that is an understatement.
Calli struggled to pull herself out of the fuzziness and remember more about the accident.
Shuffling noises followed by a nearby clank dragged her back to the present image of a cop sitting next to her bed, as if he planned to stay a while.
I’ve managed to avoid the officials for three years, and now, over a simple car accident, I’m trapped. “So, what did you want to ask me?”
“Can you tell me what you remember?”

Chapter Two (#ulink_c6fa6af9-1ef8-5643-a028-153546236323)
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?

Chapter Three (#ulink_3c45dedd-f447-5143-bb0d-5be50483ab10)
Calli zipped the ski parka, adjusted her earmuffs and pulled on the bulky gloves. She checked her gear then felt her pocket to be sure she had remembered lip ointment, tissues and sunglasses.
Everything accounted for, she skied toward the footprints marking the loading zone for the tramway that would carry her away from the pressures of the city. Since the accident two weeks ago, she’d done little besides work the checkout lanes at the grocery store, then go home and struggle with the temptation to patrol again. With any luck at all, she’d be too tired tonight to care if the whole town crumbled at her doorstep.
She wanted this ski trip to revitalize her senses. Wanted it to make her forget the urge to protect the weak and helpless.
Experts said forgiveness was the key to moving on in life after a tragedy. Yet try as she may, Calli found it impossible to forgive—a hit-and-run driver, an unfaithful fiancé or an elusive murderer.
Calli took a deep breath of the crisp clean air and closed her eyes. Okay, Father, I’ll quit patrolling. But there has to be some way I can help. Show me how. Take my life, my heart, and change it. Starting today, Lord, remind me how to relax and have fun.
She watched tufts of clouds floating in from the west. “For I know of the plans that I have for you…plans to give you a hope and a future.” Today she would be carefree. Happy. Relaxed. Today I’m starting over.
She noticed the broad shoulders ahead of her, and again found herself daydreaming about the cop with the resonating voice and tender touch. Though she’d never actually seen Luke Northrup, her mind had created its own image. His business card was still in her purse, with his home number scrawled on the back. She’d read it over and again, too stubborn to succumb to the temptation to actually call him. As kind as he had been, he was still a cop.
“Excuse me, sir.”
He didn’t respond.
As she waited, another chair passed. She looked at it, then to the man who was now struggling with the binding on his ski.
Calli watched as the next seat approached, then tapped the man’s shoulder. “Excuse me. Are you going up?”
“Just a minute.” he snapped. He stepped aside and Calli eased forward, her gaze climbing the ski slope.
Calli heard a clamor as the chair rounded the curve of the pulley. She hurried past the man to the loading zone for the lift. When the chair bumped the back of her legs, she instinctively sat down and knew immediately that something was wrong. She wasn’t on the chair. She was on somebody. “What’s going on?”
“Hang on!” a deep voice commanded. Calli grabbed hold of the vertical bar connecting the chair to the cable, then looked down and realized three things. The chair was already twenty feet above the frozen ground. To her right, skis dangled from jean-clad legs, confirming her suspicion that she was sitting on someone. And she didn’t dare let go.
“How—how did you get here?” she stammered. As Calli yanked the safety bar down in front of them, she felt his hand grab the back of her parka. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to keep you from falling, ma’am.” He shoved her to one side, then kicked his long legs in a final effort to sit upright.
The chair jolted from side to side. “Watch out! The pole.” She heard the snap as his skis hit the huge metal post. The chair jerked to a stop, bumping Calli off the seat again. She screamed.
“Don’t worry. I have you.” He hoisted her back into the chair, then pulled her into the circle of his arms.
Calli whispered a prayer, unable to stop clinging to the man who’d brought her to safety. He held her securely. Tenderly. Sympathetically.
“It’s okay now. You’ll be fine, miss.” The deep timbre of his voice was somewhat disconcerting and the spicy scent of his cologne sent a shiver up her spine.
Slightly perturbed that he did nothing to dissuade her from clinging to him, Calli concentrated on slowing her breathing before she totally collapsed into his arms, further making a fool of herself.
“It’s okay. Take a deep breath—let it out.” She could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he imitated his instructions.
Her breathing was ragged, and with each gasp the cold air burned her throat. How long they clung to one another, she wasn’t sure. Calli could feel his heart pounding against her own, and, with determined control, she pushed herself away from the security of the man’s embrace. Looking into his eyes, she felt as if a warm blanket had just been wrapped around her. His rough cheek brushed hers, and she fought the temptation to lean close again. Calli straightened her jacket and took another cleansing breath, the thin air only intensifying the dizziness.
“I…I didn’t think you were going up….” she said, her words trailing off as she lost herself in his jade-green eyes. Her gaze strayed to the black stubble framing his smile, and it was suddenly a struggle to think.
A voice bellowed from the ground below. “Everyone okay up there?”
Her companion glanced down, then back to her. His voice held none of the irritation she’d first heard, but was strangely warm and comforting. “Are you okay?”
She swallowed with difficulty and finally a raspy sound emerged. “Fine. But you. Your ski. And…” She raised her body off the seat again, and reached under her. “Oh, no, I bent your ski pole.”
He yelled to the ski patrol and confirmed they were both fine. The lift started with a jerk, and both grabbed for each other.
She watched the play of emotions on his rugged face. His eyes searched hers and they broke into laughter. His laugh was warm, deep and fully masculine.
“You couldn’t have bent that pole if you’d jumped on it. There’s hardly enough of you to—” He abruptly stopped midsentence.
It couldn’t be. The laughter ended and she felt her cheeks heating up, despite the cold wind on her face.
Did he feel the same unexplainable bond as she did? It was crazy; they’d just met. Or had they? This wasn’t like her at all. Every time he spoke, it sent a ripple of awareness through her.
“I’m very sorry, miss….” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I lost my balance and couldn’t stop with these skis on.” A smile immediately softened his rugged features and further melted her indignation. He lifted the faded baseball cap covering his unruly short black hair, swiped his brow, then replaced the cap. “I am sorry.”
She nodded and looked the other way.
Calli couldn’t help but wonder if her attraction to this stubborn, arrogant and attractive man was God’s will. Heavens, she thought, He could have broken me into this new plan of His a little easier.
Her mind must be playing tricks on her, she decided. Not only did this man sound familiar, if she really used her imagination, he almost looked like the police officer who nearly ran into her that last night she patrolled. Couldn’t be.
She wished she could think of something clever to say. Anything. She hesitantly admired his strong square jaw and thick brows which arched over the deep-set green eyes. I am not ready for this, God. She shivered, then felt a warm sensation relax her body.
Already she’d seen a gentle side of this man replace the severity of his earlier arrogance. He measured her with an unnerving silence.
He extended his hand, firmly grasping hers. “I’m Luke Northrup.”
Her heart stopped beating. She’d just convinced herself that her mind was playing tricks on her. Convinced herself that the nurse exaggerated. She was stunned—Luke was as handsome as the hero conjured up by her crazy imagination. Searching her pockets, she found what she needed and slipped behind the screen of mirrored sunglasses. “Calli,” she said simply. No need for more.
It didn’t matter that she’d thought of him on a daily basis. Or that she’d promised God she’d give up patrolling, Teddy’s burritos…anything, if she could just resist falling in love with another police officer. What did matter was she couldn’t see him again. This isn’t fair, God. And I showed such restraint not calling him.
Luke obviously didn’t recognize her without her bandages and she quickly decided it would be safest to play dumb. “You must see stupid things like this all the time up here.”
“Up here?” Luke’s brows furrowed, with a glint of wonder in his eyes.
“On the slopes,” she added, relieved that he’d not made the connection between her given name and her nickname.
He chuckled. “You think I’m a ski bum? I’m flattered.”
Just like a cop—arrogant. Calli straightened her back and handed his bent pole to him. “I’ll be glad to pay for the damage.”
“Don’t think a thing of it. If this binding had been working properly, none of this would have happened. They could be more careful about training employees, too. I’m not sure that guy even knew how to stop the lift.”
“Are you security?” The rasp in her voice was getting worse. She had to calm down. The crisis was over. Everything was fine. He wasn’t making the connection.
“No, but I’m sure the folks who run this place will trust my credentials.”
An uncomfortable silence was avoided as she cleared her throat and nodded. If Luke Northrup didn’t want to admit to being a law officer, she wouldn’t push.
They bounced along in silence. Minutes later, Calli looked up at the signs telling them to prepare to unload. Reminded of his accident, she assessed the situation. “So how are you going to get down off this mountain with a broken ski?”
“We’ll just ride the lift back down. That ought to get their attention.”
Calli yanked her sunglasses from her face and turned to him. “We?”
“I’ll need you to file a statement…to verify what happened.”
“I thought you said they would trust your credentials. It took me…Well, you can’t imagine what I’ve gone through to arrange this ski trip!”
“Better safe than sorry. And we’d better have your arm checked. You gave it a pretty good yank. I don’t think either of us will be safe on this slope today.” He smiled, then added, “And, I think I at least owe you a cup of coffee for ruining your morning.”
Her arm was sore, but she knew it wasn’t broken. As she considered Luke’s logic, the dismount ramp approached. He wasn’t thinking of himself, but of her safety, as well as the other skiers. She, of all people, should understand his protective nature.
He waited for her answer. “Consider it a peace offering.”
She looked at the glint in Luke’s eyes and felt that crazy magnetism between them. Just one cup of coffee couldn’t hurt. He doesn’t even remember me. “If you insist. But I’ll warn you, I’m not the forgiving type.” A cup of coffee. What could happen over a cup of coffee?

Chapter Four (#ulink_2625214c-3cd8-5694-8255-0feb1e253c17)
Luke unlocked the apartment door and hobbled inside, greeted by his son and an overwhelming garlic aroma. Jon must be toasting hoagie buns for his favorite after-school snack.
“Sorry I’m late. How was school?”
“Okay. We’re out of garlic salt, but I added it to the grocery list.” He walked around the corner, carrying a plate overflowing with bread. One glance at Luke and the thirteen-year-old stopped short. He brushed the dark bangs from his eyes. “Wow! What happened to you?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary. A little investigating. Some crisis intervention. Rescuing damsels in distress. Filling out paperwork.” Luke collapsed in the brown recliner nearest the door and took off his boots. During the fifty-minute drive down the mountain, his sprained ankle had swelled and stiffened.
“I thought you were going to use the ski pass I gave you for Christmas today.”
Luke released the footrest and pushed the chair back. “I did.” After asking his son to bring him an ice bag and something for the pain, Luke told him about the excitement, minus the part where he’d struck out with the damsel. He could have sworn that beneath Calli’s cautious exterior, she was interested.

When he awoke two hours later the television was blaring. Jon, seemingly oblivious to the racket, surfed the channels until he found a college basketball game. His son tossed a fringed pillow from the sofa at him. “How’re ya doing?”
Luke stretched, yawning aloud as he folded the chair under him. “Ask me after I shower.” He stood and limped across the room without the pain he’d had earlier. “Your grandma left a casserole in the fridge yesterday. Would you put it in the oven? I’ll be out in a few minutes to finish making dinner.”
Jon was slow to respond. “It’s not that potpie thing, is it?”
“Yeah. Why?” Luke placed his hands on his hips and stopped. “You didn’t throw it out, did you?”
“Not exactly.” His son remained slouched on the sofa, peering at the TV from under the curtain of hair.
Luke waited for a further explanation. “Well?”
Jon raked his hand through his long bangs. “I ate it.”
“You ate the whole thing?” Luke couldn’t believe he bothered to ask such a stupid question. Of course he did. Jon was thirteen. He was supposed to eat them out of house and home.
“Well, I didn’t know it was supper.”
“Do me a favor. Don’t tell me how great it was.” Turning back to the kitchen, Luke rummaged through the freezer, hoping to find a replacement. There was none.
Kneeling in the middle of the kitchen, a pain shot up his leg and into his hip. From the cupboard, he pulled two empty peanut-butter jars and a few nearly empty boxes of crackers. His son was obviously going through a growing spurt. Jon only needed another six inches to reach Luke’s height of six foot three, but the way the boy was eating, that would take less than a couple of months.
Luke settled for an overripe banana on the way to the shower. Between bites, he told Jon to clean up so they could grab dinner on the way to the grocery store.
After showering, Luke and Jon ate, then went to buy groceries. Luke bought double what he figured they needed, hoping there’d be a few crumbs left for his own meals after Jon finished eating.
Halfway through the store Luke found himself thinking of Calli. She’d mentioned that she’d almost completed her teaching degree, but was working at one of the downtown grocery store chains. He paid special attention to the employees as he browsed, certain that she also said she usually worked evenings. When he didn’t see her, he made a note to start shopping in the evenings so he could run into her. A few phone calls should turn up a “Calli” at one of them. It’s not that common a name.
As they were driving home, Jon was unusually quiet. They discussed another Nuggets loss and their tickets to the upcoming Avalanche game against the Red Wings. All the while, Jon barely uttered two words that wasn’t an answer to a direct question. It was twice as tough to keep the conversation going, when all Luke could think about was the gorgeous woman he’d spent two hours trying to charm, only to be ignored when he asked if he could call her sometime. Before he had a chance to ask any more questions, Calli had slipped back into her cautious camouflage and politely excused herself. He drove home, replaying their conversation, trying to figure exactly what they’d been talking about when he’d blown it.
“Dad…did you hear me?”
“I was thinking of something else. Sorry. What did you say?”
“Nate wants me to stay with him Friday night. He’s kind of bummed since his dad left. Can I go?”
“Friday, as in tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I know we were going to the hockey game, but… Well, it’s important.”
Nate lived upstairs, and the two had been friends since preschool. Only a few months earlier, Nate’s dad had left his mother for another woman. The family was devastated. Especially Nate.
Luke thought of Friday’s Avalanche game and how long they’d waited for these tickets. “Sure. Go ahead. Nate’s more important right now.”
“Really? Thanks, Dad. You’re all right.”
Hang on to that thought. It won’t last long. Luke stuffed the disappointment away. He wasn’t ready for his son to choose friends over him. Yet here it was. They unloaded the groceries, Jon finished his homework, then went to bed as Luke got ready for a night at the station. With his leg hurting like this, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle full duty.
Mrs. Maloney knocked quietly and came in.
“Hi, Marge. Jon has finished his homework and is already in bed. I should be home early tonight.” He limped to the table and loaded his notes in his briefcase. Motioning to his foot, Luke offered an explanation. “Officially I’m off until I see a doctor, but I need to catch up on some paperwork. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”
“That’s fine, Luke. I’ll just watch the late shows.”
“Feel free to go to bed. I can wake you when I get home.”
He went to tell Jon good-night, but the room was dark and silent. Luke closed the door, remembering when Jon was a baby and his mother had just walked out on them. Jon had gone to child care when Luke worked the day shift, and had gone to Luke’s parents at night. It became more difficult as Jon got older. Luke and Jon had argued about the neighbor coming to “baby-sit,” but in the end, his son didn’t give either of them any problems. It was a teenager’s obligation to argue, but inside, Luke suspected his son was as relieved as he was that their favorite neighbor was here.

The command sergeant watched Luke try to walk without a limp. “Face it, Northrup, you’re going to be at the front window for a month with that bum leg.”
“Not a chance. A week, maybe two at the most. I’ll do anything, Sarge, but not the front.”
The front window was known as the department “Miracle Cure,” known to heal any ailment twice as quickly when an officer was assigned there. Unlike dispatch’s duties, working the front meant answering the phone, dealing with stupid questions, handling complaints due to “cold calls” that were filed at the bottom of the priority list.
The sergeant tossed a file on his desk. “For now, see if Angel and Dunn need help with their case.”
Luke reviewed the file, looking for anything to tie a white 4 Runner to the case. They too needed their witness to come forward. Angel had asked Luke to listen to the tapes to confirm that it was the anonymous caller.
Luke pressed Play and again listened to the female caller on previous 911 tapes, including the calls from the night of the auto prowls two weeks ago.
He compared the voices one more time.
Tom shrugged. “You must know this by heart, Luke. Let it go. She’ll call again soon.”
Her voice was soft. “Is she whispering, or scared to death?” Luke asked Tom. Sirens wailed and Luke held up a hand, quieting his partner. There was a gasp, a rattle, then a clunk, like the receiver had fallen. The voice was quiet, but urgent. “Turn it up. She said something.”
Tom rewound the recording and pushed Play and raised the volume. The transcription was full of static. “Come on. Start.” He heard more static. Then, “Too close. Get out of here.” Static and her voice saying, “Phone?” The line went dead.
After a quick drive back to the scene to reenact the call, Luke shook his head. “The lady in the 4 Runner was the anonymous caller. We could have had her.” His frustration became more evident as they returned to the station. Tom left the room, seemingly aware that Luke needed time alone. The man knew him too well.
Luke rubbed his rough jaw. This anonymous caller case was getting to him. Of that, there was no doubt. After several minutes, he decided there wasn’t much he could do besides turn it over to a higher power, one with more insight than his.
Tom passed by the desk for the fourth time in ten minutes.
“Would you stop pacing. My ankle hurts just watching you. What is it?”
“You okay?”
The bite of anger subsided. “I’ll be fine. Just checking in with the Boss.” Luke pointed up.
Tom nodded. “We’re going to need it. Captain was just telling me Tiger came to the jail to visit Marlow yesterday. The guard says it looked like there was plenty of tension between them. Money must be getting tight.”
Luke understood Tom’s silent implication. It was time for the Eastsiders “to put in some work.” They were bound to be getting edgy. Luke twirled his pencil, “walking” it from one finger to the next, then back again. “You said it yourself—there’s nothing we can do besides wait for her to call.”
Tom sat down and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “She’s digging herself in deep, Luke. If we’re looking for her, you can bet they’re even closer to finding her.”
Friday night Jon and Nate finished supper and went to Nate’s bedroom. Nate’s little brother ran into the room, screeching about not getting to watch his favorite show. The eight-year-old wouldn’t be quiet.
“Mom! Tell James to leave us alone.”
“I sent him to his room. He won’t leave your sister alone, and I can’t take any more of their fighting.”
“And what’re we supposed to do?” Nate argued with his mother as if she had the power to mend all of their problems. Jon felt sorry for her, but he couldn’t tell Nate that. As far as his friend was concerned, he was the only one hurting. Nate felt like no one understood. Jon was trying.
“We’re going to Jon’s.”
Jon didn’t argue, though he knew he should have. His dad had gone ahead to the hockey game with Tom and they wouldn’t be home for hours. He knew his dad didn’t like him having friends over when he wasn’t home. It wasn’t that his dad didn’t trust him, but he knew other kids sometimes didn’t think before doing stupid things. For a dad, his was okay.
“C’mon, Jon. Let’s get outta here.”
Nate led the way down the stairs and out the front door of the building.
“Where are you going?”
“Out. I’m sick of this place.”
“Let’s just go to my apartment like you told your mom, Nate. What if she comes looking for you?”
“She never checks up on me—she’s too tired to think of it. You coming or not?” Nate’s language turned foul more often these days, and nothing anyone did was worthy of his attention. Jon didn’t know what to do to help. But he had to try.
They headed down the street, meeting a couple of kids Jon recognized from school. From the way Nate greeted them, Jon realized this wasn’t the first time his friend had escaped to the streets.
He looked around uncomfortably.
“Daddy on duty tonight, Northrup?”
He shook his head. That didn’t matter. Everyone in the precinct knew him.
“Come on, Nate, let’s split.”
“In a minute.”
Nate continued to talk with the group, which had doubled in size since they arrived. The gang headed down an alley. Jon lagged behind, unsure what was going on, but he knew he didn’t want to be here.
They walked to a park, meeting up with a couple of older guys. After a few minutes, Jon got up the courage to tell Nate he was going home.
“You can’t Your dad’ll ask questions, and if you go to my house, my mom’ll get all uptight”
He pulled Nate away from the gang. “This is stupid, Nate. Let’s go to my apartment. We can play video games, order a pizza, whatever.”
“Time for business.” The guy they called “Tiger” looked at them. “You in or out?”
Jon watched as everyone looked at him, expecting him to chicken out Daring him. He’d heard what happened when they suspected a snitch. If he ditched out now, he’d be in deep trouble. And if his dad found out, it would be even worse.

Chapter Five (#ulink_b314293c-541e-5083-a0c0-3982ae547ece)
Calli picked up her paycheck and rushed past the checkout lanes. She tucked the paper and two videos into her backpack, waving to her boss on the way out.
Ten minutes behind schedule already, she parked the rental car and ran into the recreation center. Hanna met her in the lobby and they rushed to the women’s locker room where Calli changed into her sweats and a T-shirt.
“It’s a class of women.” Calli said, watching Hanna brush her hair then freshen her makeup. “We’re practicing self-defense, Hanna,” she said with a laugh. “There’s no need to primp.”
Her fair-haired cousin was an easy target for muggers. Precise schedule, expensive car, drop-dead attractive. Over the years, Calli had tried telling Hanna to vary her routine, as well as other safety precautions. It wasn’t until a woman had been attacked a block from Hanna’s office that she’d been persuaded to pay attention to Calli’s advice.
“I don’t know, Bart’s kinda cute.”
“And kinda married.” Calli laughed. “Not your type.”
Hanna tossed the brush down. “I didn’t see a wedding ring.” Then as if there’d been no interest at all, she changed the subject. “Do we have to do anything ‘real’ tonight? Like flips or anything?”
“Probably a few moves. You’ll do fine. Let’s go.”
Hanna pulled her hair into a ponytail at the top of her head and they rushed out the door. “Easy for you to say. You’ve been tossing men over your shoulder since you were a kid.”
“I was merely defending myself. If you had brothers you’d know how to take care of yourself, too.” Calli had carefully locked those memories away, and yet with that innocent reminder, they returned. Calli would never forget the first time she successfully flipped her older brother. Her dad took her for an ice-cream cone right before dinner, ignoring her mother’s protests. To this day, Calli never figured out why her mom had been protesting; had it been the nature of the celebration, or the fact that the ice cream would ruin her dinner?
“Did you know that your dad tried to convince my mother to let him teach me self-defense once?” Hanna acted as if this was entertainment.
Calli stared ahead, afraid to open the door to the past any further than a tiny crack. Few people could overlook her father’s tough militaristic exterior, and even fewer saw the loving emotional side that he reserved for his family. She slipped back through that door and slammed it closed. “Dad was a good instructor, but so is Bart. He knows what he’s doing.”
Hanna told her about her latest date, and the two started laughing. Calli didn’t enjoy the dating game like her cousin did. For Hanna, meeting new people was fun, but Calli rarely went out, and only with men she knew well. Calli and Hanna joined the rest of the class on the mats and they began stretching.
Suddenly, hushed voices buzzed around her. She turned just as Luke Northrup introduced himself as their new instructor. Calli’s smile disappeared.
“Bart broke his leg and asked me to take his place. I’m a certified instructor, and have taught personal safety with him before.”
The other women seemed to have the same reaction to the handsome man as she had. Tonight he wore a black tank top and sweats, and as before, his hair looked as if he’d just used his fingers as a comb. His five o’clock shadow wasn’t as pronounced as it had been at the ski resort, but he still had that air of authority which commanded instant attention.
Okay, God, what are you up to? I thought we agreed, no cops. Then she recalled Luke’s gentler side. The care and concern he had shown at the hospital. The way he comforted her when she clung to him after the skiing accident. His tenderness was as startling as an ice cube on a hot summer day.
As they visited over coffee, she had relaxed and temporarily put the past behind her. Luke had never recognized her from their meeting at the hospital. But once again, he teased and tormented the emotions she’d long locked away. Then suddenly she caught herself entertaining the notion of seeing him once more. Before he could ask her for her phone number, she politely thanked him for the coffee and ran.
There wasn’t room for a man in her life. Especially not this one. Not one who made her forget her past, her mission, her mistakes. Not even for a minute.
Luke’s steady gaze bored into hers in silent expectation. Their eyes met—dueling, dancing, laughing. There was that maddening hint of arrogance again.
She found herself studying him as he turned his attention back to the class. Was she imagining it, or had his back straightened, his shoulders become broader and his determination grown stronger?
“We’re going to start with a defensive move. I’m going to need a volunteer to help me demonstrate.” Hands flew into the air, yet he looked right at Calli, as if waiting for her objection. “Miss…?” he teased.
Begrudgingly she stepped forward. “Calli.”
Luke explained the move, then demonstrated the steps in slow motion. He wore the same spicy aftershave as that night in the hospital. She silently searched for a plausible explanation to the shiver that went up her arm as he held her wrist. His hold was firm, challenging her to break loose. Her move was quick and instinctive.
She expected him to call on another volunteer for the next demonstration, but he stepped behind her as she turned to leave and wrapped his arm around her neck, as a mugger would.
Calli braced herself on her left leg. She tugged at his arm, leaned forward, and “swept” at Luke’s legs with her foot. The move was enough to knock him to the floor so she could escape.
The class watched wide-eyed as Luke lay sprawled across the mat, laughing. He rose to one elbow. “A perfect example of the benefits of the element of surprise. Great job…Calli.”
Her heart raced. “Glad to help.” She returned his smile, careful to hide her pleasure at seeing him again. Class resumed, and Calli fought the constant temptation to join in his gentle sparring. He’d explain a move, then the class would pair up to practice. As he made his way to her group, Hanna seemed to enjoy seeing Calli’s discomfort escalate with each step Luke took.
“How’s it going here?” His voice seemed deeper than before.
Hanna spoke first. “I don’t quite understand.” Calli watched Luke go through the steps again, this time, wrapping his arm around Hanna’s neck. She couldn’t explain the crazy longing she had to trade places with her cousin at that moment.
“You kind of elbow the attacker in the stomach as you reach up….” Calli’s eyes met his, and she stopped. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“We’re here to learn, from one another or from me, it really doesn’t matter. Care to try it again? I’m ready this time.”
“I’ll give you a break.”
Luke smiled, then turned to the class. “I’ll be the first to say that one can never underestimate the opponent. That in itself could be a woman’s best defense.” Luke looked at his watch. “That’s it for tonight. Have a good week.”
Several women thanked Luke, then Calli for her “help.” A wave of giggles followed, and he shook his head.
“Calli, I’d be willing to forgive you, if you’d agree to help with the class. We seem to make a good team.”
Despite her laugh, Calli felt an unwelcome reaction to his innuendo. “Think the third time’s a charm, huh?”
“Third time? Unless I’m mistaken, we’ve only met twice.” He crossed his arms and put his back to the wall.
Great, Calli. How’re you going to get out of this one?
When she didn’t answer, he added, “Unless you consider tonight memorable enough to count as twice, which I happen to agree. Can’t remember being knocked off my feet by a more beautiful woman.”
Calli stepped aside, struggling to find an answer to his question before his flirting turned her brains to jelly. “No way,” she said, realizing she was way behind in the conversation. Forget it, Luke Northrup. No way am I going through this blessed torment every week! Enough is enough.
“Hanna, does your friend always back down from a challenge?”
“Cousin,” Hanna corrected.
His eyebrows arched and his mouth fell open. “Cousin?”
Calli watched as he eyed the two of them. Hanna and her long blond hair, blue eyes and robust figure, then Calli’s classic Italian coloring and willowy body.
“Plead the Fifth, Hanna, or you’ll be walking home.” She turned to leave, feeling Luke’s challenging stare.
Hanna leaned close and whispered. “What’s going on here, Calli?”
She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t admit the truth—that she was falling for another police officer.
“Just think about it. It’s one thing to have an instructor who can tell them what to do, but it’s something else altogether to see one of their own succeed. These women could learn a lot from you. I’ll call you this time.”
“Don’t bother. The answer’s no…Officer Northrup.”
Hanna looked at her, then to Luke and began laughing. “You’re kidding. Not again.”

Jon tried phoning Nate after dinner, but according to his five-year-old sister, Nate was supposedly at Jon’s. Jon had become his best friend’s alibi more than ever before. He wouldn’t have minded at one time, but fact was, he rarely saw Nate at all anymore, and Jon didn’t like his friend’s new pals.
He finished his algebra and threw his reading book aside. “I’m going to take the trash outside, Mrs. Maloney.”
She looked up from her knitting and seemed to know he had something on his mind. “Don’t take long. You haven’t finished the dishes, and I assume you still have reading to do.”
“It’s a stupid book,” he muttered.
“That may be your opinion, but I don’t think that will answer the questions on your test. Take a break, then get back to your homework, young man.”
Jon grumbled, then walked out of the apartment. He checked the stairway, then headed outside.
Nate’s recent hangout seemed to be the park. Without hesitation, Jon rounded the corner and sauntered to the end of the block. He saw Nate and his new friends near the picnic table, laughing. Jon paused, then backed behind a budding lilac bush and watched. The huddle tightened, then Nate backed away from the group and looked around.
A few more minutes passed, and the group broke up. Jon stepped into the alley and ran home. He rode the elevator to the third floor, waiting for his breathing to slow before going into the apartment. It was about ten minutes later that he heard the sirens, and wondered if they’d caught Nate this time.
The next morning, Jon went to school alone. Nate finally showed up third hour, unprepared for the reading test. After another of Nate’s outbursts of profanity, the teacher ordered him to finish the class period in the office. Wearing a smirk, Nate turned to Jon as he left the classroom. It was all Jon could do to meet his friend’s gaze.
In the lunchroom, Nate approached Jon. “So what’s up, Jonny boy?”
“What’s with you, Nate?” Jon kept eating.
His friend ignored the question. “Saw you at the park last night.”
Their eyes met. “You’re asking for trouble with them, Nate.”
“They’re my friends.”
“Whatever.”
Nate pushed his tray closer to Jon’s. “You the one who called the cops on us last night?”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, I’m not stupid enough to cross the Eastsiders.”
“They’re not so bad,” Nate insisted. “Give ‘em a break.”
Jon looked at his empty tray. “Nate, don’t tell your mom that you’re at my house next time you ditch out.” He stood and backed away from the table. “I’ll see you around.”

Chapter Six (#ulink_1a479df6-86a7-5f99-b966-3571f5101e97)
“How soon’s that cellular tracking system supposed to be active? That may be our best chance to find the anonymous caller.”
“A few weeks.” Tom took a swig of pop. “Typical glitches in the system. Tested it the other night. The call was made right outside the station. Showed in the system near Golden Acres.”
“A lot of good that does us.” Luke turned on the alley lights, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
“Let’s hope she can stay out of trouble until it’s ready.” Tom cleared his throat. “Say, you never finished telling me about Bart’s class last night.”
Luke proceeded to tell his friend about Calli. Tom laughed, making a few good-natured comments. “You haven’t had that look in a long time, bro.”
“Don’t get any ideas.” Luke shone the spotlight behind a trash can, then up a dilapidated fire escape.
“Doesn’t look like I need to. Vanessa’s been nagging me to plan that night out. Thought I got away from dating when I said ‘I do.’ Did you ask Calli?”
“Who said anything about a date?” Though Luke would like nothing more than to ask Calli to dinner, he wasn’t fond of beating his head against brick walls.
“Last week I told you to find a date for dinner and a movie. You did ask her, didn’t you?”
Thinking of Calli’s reaction, he shook his head. “I need to spend some time with Jon. Sorry. Maybe next time.”
“You didn’t get her number, did you?” Tom tossed his head back and began laughing. “You are out of touch with women, Luke. No wonder you’re still single.”
“I have her number. For your information, she’s going to help me teach Bart’s class. Then I’m going to convince her to help with the classes at the high schools.”
“She agreed to work with you, but she won’t go out with you? Did you even get her name?”
His partner knew all of his downfalls. “What do you think I am, a rookie?”
“I don’t have to think, I know. You’re so out of touch with women, you’d have fallen for any lame alibi.”
He thought of the way she’d avoided telling him her name, and hated to admit his friend could be right. Though he didn’t blame Calli—or whatever her name was. He continued the thought aloud. “A single woman can’t be too careful nowadays. There’s a whole lot of kooks in the world. I’m not going to push her.”
“A man of integrity. One of these days, I’ll teach you everything you need to know to find the right woman.”
Throughout their patrol, Luke thought about Calli. He was ready to call the registrar for the self-defense classes, when he remembered where else he had seen her. Why didn’t I see it before? Sassy, short dark hair. Tall and thin. Calli—Calandre. Calli Giovanni. That’s it.
Luke radioed dispatch to end their patrol as Tom shifted the cruiser into park. He was still razzing Luke about letting Calli slip away. Hoping to get Tom off his back, Luke mentioned the blonde in the 4 Runner. Contrary to what he wanted Tom to believe, Luke had just made his own plans, with Calandre, a.k.a. Calli Giovanni. “You have plans for tomorrow?”
Taking the bait, Tom nixed his idea of researching the anonymous caller. “Get a life, Luke. You can’t be married to the job. It’ll kill you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, partner.”

A shrill ring woke Luke before he’d even had a chance to fall into a deep sleep. He moved the phone from one ear to the other and flopped onto his back, listening to his exwife’s whining. At one time he’d have sympathized with her, but not any longer. She’d changed her mind too many times. This time she thought she wanted to take Jon for the summer.
“If you want to see Jon, I don’t have any problem with you coming to visit”
Along with a few remarks meant to upset him, she threatened to contact a lawyer. Now, in addition to the summer, she wanted to petition the courts to let Jon decide whom to live with.
“Nancy, have you forgotten that you signed away your maternal rights twelve years ago? I never had to let you see him at all. It’s been at least six months since you’ve even called. You missed his birthday, Christmas…”
She hung up. Without even asking how her son was doing. Nothing had changed. Luke set the receiver in the cradle and let out a deep breath. Kids do stupid things, Jon. I was a kid once, I know.
An hour later the apartment door clicked closed. Luke heard his son open the fridge, take a glass from the cupboard and close the refrigerator. Luke could imagine Jon chugging down his usual quart of orange juice. Footsteps approached the bedroom and his door creaked open.
“I’m home, Dad. I’m going to shower and go back to bed for a while.”
“You’re home awfully early. Things go okay with Nate?”
Jon grumbled a response and disappeared.
The phone conversation left him wide-awake. Luke got out of bed and pulled his sweats on. Before his son went to sleep, he ran the vacuum, then straightened the rest of the apartment. His mind returned to Nancy’s phone call. At least a million times in the last fourteen years Luke had regretted his carelessness that night. They’d been dating for several months, and with stars in their eyes, one thing had led to another. And before they’d stopped to think about repercussions, they’d become parents.
He walked to the door of Jon’s room and leaned against the doorjamb, watching his son’s peaceful slumber. Luke would always regret his irresponsibility that night, but he had never once regretted having a son or being a father. Not even when his seventeen-year-old wife had walked out of their short-lived marriage, dropping their baby off at Luke’s parents’ house while he was at school. He gave up dreams of the military in order to give Nancy time to grow, adjust and change her mind about leaving the two of them. Two days after Jon’s first birthday, she returned, just long enough to hand Luke the papers giving up her son.
That had been a dark, difficult time in his life, but Luke had found that, as his faith had grown stronger, so had his ability to cope as a single parent.
He wouldn’t back down now, either. He had to think of what Jon had been through. Consider his son’s feelings. His mother’s rejection hurt, though Jon would never admit it.
Luke remembered the day about a month before Jon’s fifth birthday when he first realized his family was different. Sure, they knew other single-parent families, but those kids went back and forth between Mom’s house and Dad’s house. Jon didn’t.
“I want a brother for my birthday.”
Luke had never believed in lying, especially to a child. In fourteen years he’d faced some doozies, but he’d never lied.
Luke stared at the anger and confusion in the five-year-old’s eyes. His own emotions were mirrored on his child’s face. “I can’t give you a brother. I can buy you a present at the store. Would you like a bicycle?”
“No. I told you what I want,” Jon growled. “I want a brother.”
“Come on, Jon, you’ve never seen a brother for sale at the store, have you?” Luke chuckled, groping for some levity. “Do you want a doll? Is that what you mean?”
“No! I want a baby, just like Nate’s mom had a baby.”
“I see.” He paused to swallow the lump in his throat. “Babies need a mom and a dad.” He wasn’t ready to go into this discussion, but he felt the questions coming. “I’m not married, and it’s best to be married to have a baby. Babies look like a lot of fun, but they’re lots of work, too.”
After Luke told Jon a simplified version of how babies are made, the two embraced. As if he finally understood, Jon’s smile faded. “But I don’t have a mom.”
It hurt to tell his own son that he had a mother who didn’t want to be one. “So we can’t have another baby without someone to be a mom. Someone who wants to be a mom as much as I want to be a dad and you want to be a big brother.”
Even now, Luke still noticed Jon’s interest in babies. Tom and Vanessa and their new twins were great fun for Jon. Every few days, Jon stopped by after school to visit the Davises. It was painfully obvious. His son still wanted the one thing Luke couldn’t give him: a family.

* * *
Calli watched the leader of the gang walk past as she checked Mrs. Polanski’s basket of groceries. Every Saturday afternoon, her neighbor came to check out in her lane.
“How are your eyes doing, Calli?”
“They still tire easily, but other than that, just fine, Mrs. Polanski. The doctor says there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage.”
“Is there any loss of vision?”
Calli smiled and shook her head in lieu of an answer. She ran the boxes past the scanner, thinking about Luke Northrup’s request for her to help him teach the self-defense classes. She did little but think about it since their class. On one hand, she firmly believed in the cause. But on the other, she had to be crazy to consider spending even one evening a week with the very man she should be avoiding.
She glanced nervously at the kids wearing gang colors, and totaled her neighbor’s order. “Twenty-five dollars, fifty-three cents, Mrs. Polanski.” While the elderly woman dug through her tapestry bag for money to pay her bill, Calli turned to the bagger and whispered, “Jake, help Mrs. Polanski into her car, and be sure it’s locked before she leaves.” He nodded. Feeling a bit easier, Calli watched Jake and her neighbor walk out the door.
The manager tapped Calli on the shoulder. “It’s time for your break.”
“Thanks.” She turned her light out, signed off her money drawer and strode to the back of the store for some fresh air. It had been a long day already. She stepped outside and headed for the abandoned loading docks. Taking a deep breath, Calli leaned to one side, the other, then forward, stretching her tired back.
She took a sip of soda, admiring the clear sky. The brisk wind tousled her hair and refreshed her senses. Finding a clean spot on the cold cement, Calli sat down. The breeze and drastic drop from the dock reminded her of the day she’d met Luke at the ski slope.
Don’t get any ideas, Calli. That man is off-limits. Her watch beeped, alerting her that it was time to get back to work. She went down the steps and around the corner, surprised to find three kids spray painting graffiti on the wall of the store in broad daylight.
“Hey, guys. You need to clear out of here.”
They laughed. “You going to make us?” the kid with the blue bandanna around his head taunted.
Calli took a deep breath and quickly dispelled the notion of doing just that. The odds were stacked on their side. Tiger glared at her. “Just a bit of advice. Take it or leave it. It’s your choice.” She hurried past them and turned the corner to the front of the store, relieved to see the flurry of activity.
Knowing they had followed her inside, she went straight back to her lane and entered her number into the register. For the next half hour, they lurked nearby, she supposed to make sure she didn’t call the police. One picked up a candy bar and started eating it. She pretended not to notice, until he opened the second one. Calli was ready to confront him, when he stepped up to the register and handed her two onedollar bills.
“Remember this, lady, you talk, you pay.”
She snatched the bills from his hand and waited for him to take the change from the automatic dispenser at the end of the counter. “Your bill is paid, now leave.”
Another customer stepped into her lane, and she decided to ignore the boys. Why me, God? Why did I have to find them out there? I’m trying to convince myself that these kids aren’t all bad, and this happens. I’m not convinced If you don’t want me to get involved, why do you keep bringing trouble to my door?
“Good afternoon. Would you like plastic or paper?” Calli addressed the customer absently, pulling the cart forward until it rested against the stainless-steel counter.
“What a coincidence meeting you here, Miss Giovanni,” a smooth voice answered.
Calli looked up, stunned to see Luke. He looked over her shoulder, also surveying the boys she’d been watching. She looked nervously at him, then at the teens. “How did you find me?”
“What, you don’t believe in coincidences?” Then he lowered his voice, still smiling. “Just keep checking, Calli. I’m watching them. Why are they bothering you?”
He reached under his leather jacket.
When she saw him release the snap of his holster, her shoulders tightened. Then her neck. She could feel her throat constrict. “Call me a skeptic, but no, I don’t believe in coincidences,” she said, squeezing each word out. In no time at all, she’d sound like a child with croup.
Calli turned toward the gang. Tiger was gone, and the remaining kids acted as if they’d never seen her. “Nothing. They’re just loitering,” Calli added.
Luke’s rigid profile exemplified power and control. “Loitering?” Smiling, he leaned over the counter and whispered, as if he was flirting. “You’re lying through your teeth, Calli Giovanni. They have you terrified. Now what’s up?”
She looked at him wide-eyed, stunned at the sparkle in his eyes, despite the seriousness of his words. “That is quite a performance, Sergeant. You should get an Oscar.”
“All in a day’s work. Now are you going to tell me why they are harassing you and none of the other clerks?”
She thought of the kid’s threats and backed away. “I can handle it myself, but thank you anyway.”
Luke paid for his groceries in silence and took them just outside the door. He asked an employee to watch his basket and stepped back inside and behind the pop display. Easing his way closer, he listened as the two remaining gang members grilled Calli about their conversation. After hearing implications that threats had already been made, Luke addressed the suspects, obviously surprising Calli as well as the kids by his return. “Afternoon, boys. I don’t know what this is about, but it’s obvious that you’re not shopping. Why don’t you get on your way?”
“What you talkin’ about, Sarge?”
“Well, Pete, maybe you’d like to tell me what the lady here won’t.”
The two looked at Calli, then back to Luke. She recognized the steely look in Luke’s eyes. A cop’s eyes.
“Nothing. We didn’t do nothing.”
“Then I suggest you leave before I haul you all downtown to get answers.”
The two left the store without any more “encouragement.”
Unable to deny her relief that he’d returned, Calli struggled to maintain her composure. They had shaken her. There was no doubt about that.
Luke touched her shoulder. “You okay?”
She nodded, knowing her scratchy voice would again give her away.
“How long until you’re off?”
She’d walked to work this morning, not concerned with walking home alone midafternoon. Now she couldn’t deny the fear. Calli wanted company, even if it was Luke. “About an hour.”
“I want to make sure you get home okay. Will you wait so I can get these groceries home and let my son know I’ll be out for a while longer? He was still asleep when I called.”
Calli assessed him openly, her doubts softened by the silver cross dangling from the chain around his neck, and the surprising news that Sergeant Luke Northrup was a father. “I’ll wait. I don’t want to walk home alone after this.”
The hard-edged cop again faded, replaced with a caring, gentle man. “I’ll hurry back.”
Surprisingly enough, she wanted him to do just that.

Chapter Seven (#ulink_c7d69a0c-c760-5541-a357-7f4be7004c41)
Before she had time to consider leaving without Luke, he appeared in the employees’ locker room. When he gazed at her, she fought to conquer the involuntary nervousness that overcame her.
“The manager told me where I could find you.”
She smiled weakly. “Hi. I really don’t need a police escort.”
“Good, because this isn’t official.” He tilted his head to one side. “To be honest, it wasn’t a coincidence that I came here.”
She’d been unable to take her mind off Luke Northrup since he stepped into her checkout lane. This guilty feeling was due to the joy of his return. “Oh, really? Isn’t it a little unethical to use police records for personal interests?”

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