Missez (Wild Irish Silence Book 4) by Sherryl Hancock (1)

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One   ♫

The day Jerith and Nicolette were to leave to go to Hawaii, a vacation Jerith had arranged for them, Nicolette had a retirement luncheon to attend. She told Jerith it was important for her to go, since the man retiring had been one of her training sergeants when she first started with the department. Jerith asked if it would be out of line for him to go with her.

“I don’t see why it would be,” Nicolette said.

So Jerith went. He was surprised by Nicolette’s friends at the department. They seemed very wary of him—about which he wasn’t surprised—but they seemed to accept him when Nicolette told them they were going to Hawaii that evening. It was as if her being serious enough about him to go on a vacation with him meant he must be okay.

Jerith observed the easy interaction between the officers. There was a lot of joking and ribbing going on, and Nicolette took some of it. She also received a lot of congratulations on the incident she’d been involved with.

One of the officers said, “Good guys one, bad guys one less,” while patting her on the back. There were no jeering comments, which Nicolette told him in a whisper was rare. The man retiring, Sergeant Rick Dumas, came over and gave Nicolette a hug. Nicolette introduced him to Jerith, and they shook hands.

“That was a good shoot the other day, Collie. Don’t let those assholes at IA try and tell you different. Textbook, is what it was—textbook,” he said, his hands on her shoulders, his expression serious. “Hell, he even shot first, didn’t he?”

“Yes, Sarge, he shot first,” Nicolette said, grinning. “I got the bruises to prove it.”

“Take video!” Dumas said. “That’s all anyone’s convinced by anymore!” With that he moved on to his other guests, and Nicolette turned back to Jerith. He was giving her a strange look.

“What?” she asked, smiling at him, as they walked over to their seats at the table.

He grinned. “Collie?”

“Oh. Yeah, Dumas has always called me that. I always thought it was kind of cute.”

“It is,” Jerith said. “Is it because of the red hair? Or just a play on your name?”

“Kinda both, and he said I was true and loyal like Lassie.”

“Huh?” Jerith was confused now.

Nicolette shook her head. “It’s a long story.”

“I got nowhere to go—tell me,” Jerith said, interested in everything about this woman.

“Okay… Well, Dumas was my training sergeant when I first got out of the academy. I told you that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We rode together for my first six months, and we had an incident about five months into the ride. He was accused of assaulting this woman. Well, the truth was, she was one of those women who thought her looks and a flash of cleavage would get her out of a ticket. When Dumas asked her to step out of the car, because he was sure she’d been drinking, she got rude. She got out and started cussing at him. I’d just finished checking out the passenger side of the car and found a bottle right on the front seat. Anyway, she got panicky when she saw me hold up the bottle and tried to run. One of her high heels got caught in a crack in the pavement, and she started to fall. Dumas made a grab to keep her becoming intimately acquainted with the blacktop, but in the process got a handful of hair to make the save. But she started to struggle to get away from him. He tried to put her back on her feet, and she tried to wrench way, and since he’s so tall, one of the points on his badge got her on the cheek. She screamed bloody murder, but we hauled her in for a Breathalyzer. She was way over the limit and we booked her and got her cheek looked at.

“Well, two weeks later Dumas gets a notice to appear—the woman was suing him for assault under the color of authority. Dumas has always been a ladies’ man, and a lot of people outside the department, mostly the media, believed her. There was a lot of pressure from the top to settle the case, and they kept threatening Dumas that if it went to trial he wouldn’t have a job anymore. The department didn’t want to be in the public eye on this one. Anyway, I stood by him, and so did a lot of other cops. But I testified on his behalf. I saw it as my job; he saw it as a true act of loyalty.” Nicolette shrugged. “I’ve never been able to convince him of anything different. But that’s when he started calling me Collie.” She said the last with a grin.

“Hmmm,” Jerith said, looking contemplative. “It is an interesting variation on your name…”

“Try it and you’re dead,” Nicolette said, grinning widely.

Jerith held up his hands defensively. “Threats, Ms. Harris?”

“That’s Mrs. Harris,” someone said from behind him. Nicolette looked up to see John’s father, her father-in-law.

“Dennis,” Nicolette said, as if at a loss for words. She looked from the older man to Jerith and then back at John’s father. “Hi… I… uh, Dennis, this is Jerith Michaels. Jerith, this is Dennis Harris, Ryan’s grandfather.”

Jerith looked stunned, but he managed to turn and shake the older man’s hand.

“How are you, Nicolette?” Dennis asked, moving to sit beside Jerith after a not-too-friendly handshake. Jerith turned to look at Nicolette, wondering what he should do or say to this man. It was obvious Dennis Harris was not fond of the idea that Nicolette apparently had someone other than his son now.

“Fine, Dennis, fine,” Nicolette said, her eyes flicking to Jerith as if trying to tell him something. Jerith wasn’t sure what, but he assumed she didn’t want him to say much. Jerith nodded slowly, suddenly finding something interesting about the tablecloth as he stared at it intently. There was a very tense silence.

“So,” Dennis said, his deep baritone breaking the quiet. “Mr. Michaels, what is it you do?” His tone was derogatory, as if he assumed it couldn’t be much. Jerith suspected correctly it had a lot to do with his long hair.

“I’m a musician,” he said simply, glancing back at the older man and then over to Nicolette. She looked embarrassed about Dennis’s question, and Jerith could detect a hint of anger in her green eyes as well.

“A musician…” Dennis said, his tone still critical. “I see. And you’re seeing my daughter-in-law?”

“Apparently,” Jerith replied evenly.

“Uh-huh.” Dennis didn’t sound taken aback at all. “And how long has that been for?” he asked, but he was looking at Nicolette now.

“Dennis,” she said, sighing. “Don’t start, okay? What I do now is no longer your concern, so let’s just drop the third degree.”

“The types of influences my grandson comes into contact with are still my concern, young lady,” Dennis snapped.

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that fifteen years ago,” Jerith said, half under his breath.

“What?” Dennis said, his voice low and threatening.

Jerith turned to give the older man a brazen stare. “I think you heard me.”

“What the hell do you know!” Dennis said, his face growing red.

“I know that instead of making your son do the right thing by Nicky, you hauled him off, giving him the break you must have thought he deserved.”

“You listen to me,” Dennis said, standing. Jerith followed suit. “You don’t know shit about me or my son, and if you think I’m going to stand by and let some drugged-out lowlife hang around my son’s wife and son, you got another think comin’!”

Jerith didn’t say anything. He just shook his head, his face a mask of calm. He was waiting for the man to throw a punch. He could feel it coming, and he hated like hell to have to fight back, but he would if he had to. Fortunately, other officers had come over, many of them in Nicolette’s unit. They cajoled and dragged Dennis away from Jerith, but Jerith’s eyes stayed fixed on the man as the officers moved him away, and Dennis watched him as well.

When Harris was out of sight, Jerith sat down heavily in the chair next to Nicolette. She was watching him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch his hand.

“No,” Jerith said. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I lost my cool. I just didn’t like the way the guy was acting, like his son was so innocent in all this, you know?” His tone was beseeching, and Nicolette appreciated his faithfulness.

“Yes. I’m just sorry it got to that—I didn’t warn you that John’s father is a cop too, and that he might be here.”

“Well, no, you didn’t, but I’m a big boy and I can handle myself in just about any schoolyard, even one as tough as yours.”

“That’s right, you’re from Jersey. I almost forgot,” Nicolette said, smiling.

Jerith leaned back in his chair and nodded. “There you go.”

The rest of the luncheon was thankfully incident free. Nicolette’s shooting was mentioned a number of times, especially by Rick Dumas in his speech.

“You see,” Dumas said at one point, “that’s why being a training sergeant was important to me. That little girl”—he pointed down the table at Nicolette—“could have died less than a week ago, but I’d like to think that some of the training I gave her saved her life.” Nicolette nodded seriously. “Not only did she keep herself from being killed, but she saved a fellow officer, and got the bad guy too. As we like to say, tried, convicted, and sentence carried out in a fraction of a second. The shoot was clean; Collie walked away for the most part unharmed.” His smile was benevolent as he gave her a cavalier wink. “But she did good, and that’s the important thing. And it’s gonna take IA a hell of a lot of twisting to get her on this one. No matter what the fucking press is saying. Anyway, I know retiring as a sergeant isn’t real glamorous, but I’ve been a part of a lot of you guys’ and gals’ training, and I was happy to do it. Thanks for thirty great years.”

There were tears in the sergeant’s eyes when he sat down, and in a lot of other officers’ eyes as well, including Nicolette’s. Jerith saw it and reached out to take her hand, squeezing supportively. She nodded, smiling.

 

On the plane to Hawaii, Nicolette was taken aback by the first-class cabin. She’d never been in first class before, and she really hadn’t relished the idea of the five-hour flight in a tiny little space. As she glanced around, she looked a bit shell-shocked.

“You okay?” Jerith said, smiling slyly.

“This is just… wow, Jerith. This is so nice. Thank you.”

His blue eyes sparkled. “We could do this all the time, you know.”

“Aww, I think I need to stay a bit grounded in reality,” she said, smiling to take the sting from her words.

Jerith nodded as the flight attendant came by, telling them to fasten their seatbelts and smiling widely at Jerith, her hand lingering on his arm a bit longer than necessary.

He glanced over at Nicolette as he took his seat on the aisle. He could see she was amused by the attendant’s extra attention.

“What?” he asked, his smile bright.

She laughed. “You know what.”

Jerith was relieved that she didn’t seem to be the jealous type at all. He’d been with women who’d thrown fits when another woman paid too much attention to him. Nicolette was definitely not that type of woman.

They’d just taken off when Jerith looked over at her. “Nicky?”

“Yes?” she replied, looking out the window, her mind on other things.

“This shooting review thing…”

She turned to look at him. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s more serious than you’re letting on, isn’t it?”

Nicolette didn’t answer at first. Finally she nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“How serious?”

“Serious enough it could end my career real quick,” Nicolette said, her tone forcibly light.

“Jesus…” Jerith breathed. “But everybody said you were justified. Dumas said it was textbook…”

“That doesn’t always matter. Not everything is tried in court, or in these hearings—a lot of time they’re tried in the media.” She shrugged. Jerith knew what the press had been saying. “If there’s enough pressure, they could just decide I’m not worth keeping.”

Ever since the night of the raid, the press had been flooding Sacramento’s residents with reports about how the “victim” had been a father of three, a businessman. They claimed he was trying to protect his kids and that he hadn’t understood the police officer busting into his home. The press hadn’t mentioned, except in a minor note, the $80,000 they’d found in a safe in the home. They made a big deal about the fact that no drugs were found, though. Nicolette had told him she hadn’t expected to find drugs, that the man had been the money guy for the drug organization, and that the product never entered his home, just the cash from the sales.

“But that’s ridiculous, Nick,” Jerith said in a harsh whisper. “The guy shot you!”

“I know,” she said tiredly. “Like I said, that doesn’t always end up mattering in the end. If the man was trying to defend his family, he’d have been justified in trying to shoot an ‘intruder.’”

“But you wear stuff that identifies you as the police, don’t you?” he asked, having seen enough of Cops to know that much.

Nicolette nodded. “Big yellow letters. He knew who we were, Jerith. There’s no question in my mind—it’s the board I have to convince.”

“This has been a big stress on you this week, hasn’t it?” Jerith said, eyeing her closely.

“It’s been a factor, yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me anything.” Jerith sat back in his seat, looking aggrieved.             

“I’m sorry, Jerith,” Nicolette said, sounding like she was. “I just didn’t think you’d understand. I guess I’m a little narrow-minded when it comes to cop stuff, you know?”

“Yeah. Next time at least try me, okay?”

“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time,” Nicolette said, grinning.

“I mean on other stuff too.”

“Yes, dear,” Nicolette said, grinning still.

“You’re hopeless,” Jerith said, the beginnings of a smile on his face. He reached over then, touching her under the chin and lifting her face to his. He kissed her, and she felt her whole body light up. They hadn’t made love all week—he’d refused to take a chance on hurting her—so his deep kiss affected her a little bit more than it would have normally. She felt like a kid again, like they were making out in the backseat of his car. She didn’t know everyone in first class was watching them.

They made a striking couple, with her deep auburn hair and petite frame, and his blond good looks and obvious presence. Many people had watched them from the moment they’d stepped onto the plane. Now, as they kissed, wives elbowed their husbands, telling them they wished someone would kiss them like that. One of the saltier men replied, “If you looked like her, I’d want to ravish you too.”

Jerith and Nicolette heard that comment, since the couple was sitting right behind them. Nicolette started to laugh first, then Jerith did too. They spent the next four and a half hours getting to know the people in first class. Some passengers recognized Jerith and asked for autographs, and he obliged happily.

Nicolette watched him associate with the passengers and saw how easily he was able to charm them. He moved among them like he was just anyone else. It was very obvious that his stardom meant very little to him. She watched him charm a little girl, and then an old lady. She saw him shake hands with an older man and give a simple, “cool” nod to a younger one. Jerith knew how to deal with people; he didn’t offend anyone. He was polite and sweet to the ladies, charming but polite to the girls. He was courteous to the older men and joked with the younger ones. By the time they landed, Nicolette had seen yet another side of Jerith Michaels, and in her opinion it was a very endearing one. He even let a little girl who was traveling alone sit with them on the landing, because she was afraid. He held her hand the entire time, while her big blue eyes stared up at him adoringly. Jerith glanced over at Nicolette, now sitting on the other side of him—the little girl got the window. Nicolette smiled at him, and he returned it with a brilliant smile of his own.

When they got off the plane they were met by a limousine. Nicolette gave Jerith a narrowed look, knowing he had gone all out because she’d let him. He’d questioned her the week before as to where she wanted to go, and she had told him that anywhere was fine with her. He had made all of the arrangements, and she had given him free rein. The limousine took them to the Hyatt Waikoloa, one of the most beautiful hotels on the island. They had landed on the “big island” of Hawaii—Jerith had told her that it was the best one to relax on. Nicolette believed him, having never been anywhere other than San Diego, California, and Tijuana, Mexico.

They were quickly shown to their room, a large, luxurious suite with a fair-sized private balcony overlooking the ocean. Nicolette stood there looking out while Jerith tipped the bellhop. He walked out and stood behind her, putting his arms around her waist.

“You like it?” he said, sounding boyish in his enthusiasm.

Nicolette turned, putting her arms around his neck. “I love it. It’s absolutely incredible.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Downstairs, there’s actually a place where you can swim with dolphins, and they have an incredible brunch. There’s parasailing, scuba diving, snorkeling, deep-sea fishing—you name it, they have it.” He finished with a flourish of his hand.

“Spoiling me, aren’t you?” Nicolette said, grinning.

“Definitely.”

They ordered dinner in that night, since they were both exhausted. Later they lay on the bed together, Nicolette curled up in Jerith’s arms with her back to him. He held her tightly, stroking her arms absently, his face buried in her hair. Nicolette had changed into a simple camisole-style nightgown, and Jerith wore white cotton sweat-style pants and no shirt. The sliding glass door to the suite was open onto the balcony, and the smell of the ocean was carried in on cool breezes. There was a very comfortable feeling between them, and they were reveling in it.

“This is nice,” Jerith said, voicing what they had both been thinking.

“Yeah,” Nicolette replied softly.

“I’m glad you let me bring you here,” Jerith whispered, his lips right next to her ear.

“Me too.”

They spent the rest of their first evening in Hawaii companionably, talking softly every now and then, but never about anything consequential. Both of them were loath to spoil the contentment they both felt by getting too serious.

 

The next morning, Jerith woke first as usual. He lay watching Nicolette sleep. He could hear the raindrops hitting the awning of the balcony. Nicolette woke a short while later. She looked up at him and glanced over her shoulder toward the balcony.

“Is it me, or is it raining?” she said.

“It’s raining.” Jerith sounded a little bit disappointed.

“Cool,” Nicolette said, surprising him.

“You like rain?”

“Oh, yeah. My mom and I call ourselves ‘rain babies’—we love it. When I was younger we used to go outside during rainstorms and sit in the backyard getting soaked to the bone.”

Jerith was grinning at her. “Why doesn’t that surprise me about you?”

Nicolette shrugged, moving to get up. She walked over to the balcony and opened the screen door. She stepped outside, and he saw her walk to the railing.

“Nicky! You’ll get soaked!” he said, walking over. He was right—she was getting wet, but she was smiling as she turned to look at him.

“I told you,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m a rain baby. I love it! Come out here—try it!”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh, come on!” Nicolette said, grinning. “What, you think you’re gonna melt?”

“Maybe…” Jerith looked like he was wavering.

Nicolette walked over to the door and grabbed his hand. She surprised him with her strength as she managed to drag him half-protesting out onto the balcony and over to where the awning couldn’t protect them from the rain. Nicolette stood holding both of his hands, looking up at him as the raindrops fell on them. “See?” she said, her expression animated.

Jerith grinned down at her, enjoying this childlike side of her. “I still think you’re a little crazy, but yeah, I see,” he said seriously. He leaned down and kissed her softly. She smiled up at him when their lips parted.

They stood on the balcony for a little while longer, until Jerith managed to convince her to go back inside. She made him leave the sliding glass door open though, so she could hear the rain. Once inside, Jerith got a good look at her as she walked toward the bathroom to get towels. Her camisole was soaked clear through, and since it was white, and clinging to her body, his body responded instantly to the sight. He walked toward the bathroom, meeting her in the doorway as she came back out.

“You know, we’re going to have to—” she was saying. She didn’t see him standing there and was silenced by his lips on hers. The kiss was passionate as he pulled her toward him. Nicolette dropped the towels as her arms went around his neck, returning his kiss with just as much vehemence.

A few minutes later, Jerith picked her up and carried her over to the bed. There he continued to kiss her as he peeled the soaking wet nightgown off her body. He shed his wet pants moments later. His lips and hands moved over her, making her writhe in anticipation.

“Jerith…” she whispered, her voice husky with need. “Please… please…” Her hands were on his shoulders, trying to pull him up from his exploration of her body. “God,” she gasped as his lips touched the sensitive spot on her inner thigh. She arched against him. “Jerith, please. I need you.”

Jerith kissed her deeply as his body entered hers. It had been a difficult wait for him—a week had seemed like a year, and his body reclaimed hers with a vengeance.

Later they lay together, Jerith still partially covering Nicolette as she stroked his back with her nails. His lips grazed her shoulder and neck every so often as they both floated on the aftermath of their powerful lovemaking. Eventually, Jerith moved to lie next to her. He was on his side, and she on her back, but turned partially toward him. He was stroking her arm.

“What happened here?” he asked, his fingers grazing over a one-inch-long scar. He had never noticed it before.

“That?” Nicolette said, glancing at her shoulder. “I did that when I was about ten.”

“How?”

She grinned. “I was being a bad kid. Me and some others were playing in this canyon behind a house we lived in a long time ago. There was this fenced-off section in the canyon, and being kids, we assumed it had to have something really cool in it or they wouldn’t have fenced it off, right?”

“Right,” Jerith said, grinning. He remembered how simple things seemed when you were so young.

“All the other kids dared me to climb the fence and investigate. And me, being a total tomboy in the old days, I took the dare.”

“Wait a minute,” Jerith said, looking at her disbelievingly. “You were a tomboy?”

“Oh, yeah, but that’s a whole other story,” she said dismissively. “Anyway, I climbed the fence, and oh, there was something really cool on the other side…”

“What?” Jerith asked, already grimacing.

“A very big Doberman,” Nicolette said, starting to laugh. “I swear I jumped that fence so fast, I don’t even remember it. I do remember the one section that was bent from my excursion over it the first time, and it was that section that caught me on the way back over.”

“Ouch.” Jerith stroked the scar as if he could help take away the pain all those years ago.

“Oh, but it gets better. I was so dumb, I didn’t want to tell my mom, ’cause we weren’t supposed to be down in the canyon. I wrapped what had to be an entire roll of toilet paper around my arm.” She shrugged. “I figured it was like a bandage.”

“What happened?” Jerith asked, looking very curious now.

“Oh, my mom found out when the blood seeped through the toilet paper and started coming through the arm of my shirt.”

“Was she mad?” Jerith was trying to picture Patricia Hafner’s reaction.

“Actually, she laughed. She laughed all the way to the hospital, and the whole time the doctor was putting five stitches in. When I asked her why it was so funny, she told me it was the best lesson she could think of to keep me out of that canyon. And boy, was she right.”

“Hate when that happens, huh?” Jerith sounded like he’d been there before.

“You were a bad kid too, weren’t you?” Nicolette said, her eyes narrowed.

“Oh, yeah… but I was worse than that.”

“What was the worst thing you ever did as a kid?” Nicolette pulled one leg out from under the sheet that covered them and planted her foot on the bed. She moved it back and forth absently as she listened to his story.

“I’d say the worst was stealing a car.”

“Grand theft auto, Mr. Michaels?” Nicolette sounded surprised.

“Yeah, there was this car—it was a classic Corvette Stingray, a silver convertible. I walked by it every day on my way home from school. And every day, I ran my hand lovingly down the body. I’d stand and stare into the driver’s window, imagining what it would be like to have a car like that. Man, I loved that car,” he said, his eyes shining. “Anyway, one day when I was about fifteen, I came home and saw that the top was down on the car. I ran my hands over the interior—it was leather—and then I looked around. No one was around so I took a chance and got into it. I swear, it was like heaven on earth. I imagined myself actually driving it. By some chance in touching the knobs and gauges, and just about everything else, I pulled the visor down, and out fell the keys, into my lap. To me it was like a sign from God. I put the keys in the ignition, and before I had a chance to chicken out, I started the car. I’d never heard or felt something so incredible in my whole life. Without stopping to think, I threw it into gear and drove off.”

“What happened?” Nicolette asked, her eyes wide.

“I got chased by the police.”

“Oh my God! Did you run?”

“Yeah, for about three minutes, then I decided I’d probably get myself killed, so I finally pulled over.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you get arrested?”

“Well, they took me down to the station, put me in a holding cell, and called my parents. I was scared to death. Funny thing was, the guy didn’t want to press charges.”

“Really?” Nicolette said, surprised. “Why not? I mean, if he reported it stolen, why wouldn’t he want to press charges?”

“Well, that’s the funny thing. First of all, he wasn’t the one that reported it stolen—his neighbor, a nosy old lady did. I really think he left the keys in it that day. He’d seen me looking at the car millions of times, and I think he wanted me to have a chance to drive it. After I got home from the police station, my dad made me go over and apologize to the man—his name was Hodgkins—and thank him for not pressing charges. Well, Hodgkins told me that he understood my interest in his car, and he was sure I had learned my lesson.”

“Did you ever see him after that?” Nicolette asked, moving to sit up.

“Oh, yeah. In fact, he let me drive it when I got my license. I ended up doing odd jobs for him, like cutting his grass and stuff, and he paid me with time in the Corvette.”

Nicolette smiled. “That was really nice.”

“Yeah. He really was a nice man. And you know, he died about five years ago… and guess who he left the car to?”

“You?” Nicolette asked, her eyes wide again.

“Yep,” Jerith said, his eyes shining a little from sudden tears. “He didn’t have any kids, and he said in the will that I was the only person that he felt would really appreciate the car. I ended up helping his wife with the funeral arrangements. He really hadn’t made any real plans for that part, he was so young.”

“How old was he?”

“Only about fifty-five. He had a heart attack.”

“Wow,” Nicolette said, shaking her head sadly.

“Yeah, tell me about it. My own dad’s sixty,” Jerith said seriously.

“So you helped his wife with the funeral? The arrangements or the cost?”

“Both, really. She was so devastated she couldn’t handle most of it. They had been high school sweethearts, and he had just retired. It really makes you think, you know?”

“Yeah…”

“I mean, most people spend their whole lives looking for the perfect person. Sometimes you have to wonder if they had that person but let them go, thinking something better would come along later.” He watched her as he spoke, wondering if she’d realize what he meant.

Nicolette only nodded, looking deep in thought. After a few moments, she seemed to come back to the present. “So where’s the car now?” she asked, as if he hadn’t made that statement at all.

“In storage at home,” he said, sitting up next to her. “I’ll show it to you sometime.”

Nicolette grinned. “Yeah, next time I’m in Trenton, New Jersey, I’ll drop by.”

“Maybe I’ll take you there next.” He grinned back at her. Before she could say anything, he continued, changing the subject. “How about we order breakfast in here?”

“Okay,” she said, still thinking about his first comment—but she said nothing about it.

 

By the time their breakfast arrived, the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds. They opted to eat out on the balcony. They sat looking out over the ocean and the parts of the island they could see. After finishing their food, they lingered over coffee.

“So,” Nicolette said, looking over at him over the rim of her cup. “You’re obviously a pretty nice guy.”

“Why do you say it that way?”

“What way?”

He grinned. “Like you’re just discovering it.”

Nicolette set down her cup and leaned back in her chair. “It’s just not what people picture rock stars doing, ya know?”

“You obviously underestimated me again.”

“You just surprised me again, that’s all.”

“You mean versus the sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll image you had before?” Jerith said, only half joking.

“I guess. Not many rock stars do a lot to change that reputation though,” she said chidingly.

“You mean like Billy?”

“She does do drugs, Jerith,” Nicolette said softly.

“Yeah, I know.” He sounded chagrined that he had gotten a little bit angry.

“Have you ever?”

“Tried drugs?” She nodded. “A few times, yeah.” He shrugged. “Not my thing.”

“What have you tried?”

“I tried cocaine—hated it, couldn’t stand putting anything up my nose. Smoked a joint a couple of times—didn’t do much for me at all. I even dropped acid once. That was horrendous.”

“Why?”

“I got into a nasty fight with Billy, and it ended up getting physical.” He sounded ashamed.

“You hit her?” Nicolette asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” he said despondently. “The whole story was that she took the opportunity of me being out of it to try and make a deal for us. She told me about the conversation she’d had with our manager and I yelled at her. She ended up raking her nails down my arm, and I ended up backhanding her to the floor. It was not a pleasant trip.”

“I would say not,” Nicolette said, but there was no reproach in her tone. “So that’s it?”

“Yep.”

“You have any plans for future experimentation?”

He gave her a pointed look. “If I did, could I still be with you?”

“Nope,” she answered simply.

“Same answer then.”

“And what is that?”

“Nope,” he replied, staring right into her eyes.

“Well, I guess we can continue dating then,” she said, smiling.

“Is that what we’re doing?”

“I guess.”

“So, if I give you my class ring, can we go steady?” he asked, his voice holding humor.

“Do you even have a class ring?”

“Yes.” He held out his right hand. There was a ring on his middle finger.

Nicolette sat up to look at it. “Now why didn’t I notice that before?”

Jerith took it off and handed it to her for closer examination, which she conducted, ever the investigator.

“Trenton High School, class of 1992. So you really graduated, huh?” she asked, her tone indicating mocking awe.

“Having a class ring doesn’t prove anything,” he said, his grin just as wide.

“From what you’ve told me about your parents, I think you’d be dead if you hadn’t graduated. Besides, how else would you have been able to get into MI?”

“Okay,” he said, holding up his hands in defeat. “You got me, I graduated high school.”

“You know, you never really told me—did your parents support you going to MI?”

“Not really.” He looked a little disappointed. “I guess they thought I could do more with my life. Thing was, I didn’t want to. I wanted to be a guitarist.”

“They had no idea you’d become famous doing it.”

It started to rain then, so they went back inside. Again they ended up on the bed, with Nicolette sitting with her back against the headboard and Jerith stretched across the width of the bed, his head resting in her lap. He looked up at her as she brushed long blond strands of hair back from his face. “What about you, Nick? Your life probably didn’t turn out quite the way your mom planned.”

“Not even close,” Nicolette said, rolling her eyes. “Most mothers’ dreams for their daughter don’t involve their sixteen-year-old coming home one day and telling her that she’s pregnant.”

“Is that how you did it?”

“What? Tell her?” Jerith nodded. “Hardly…” she said, trailing off as she thought back. “When I suspected I was pregnant, I was terrified. It was the end of my life—I was sure of it. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Not even the father?” Jerith asked, surprised.

“John knew something was wrong, because as soon as I was three days late, I stopped having sex with him. I guess somehow I thought that continuing to have sex would make things worse,” she said wryly. “But I didn’t tell him, and it took him the next two months to pry it out of me. But I’m sure he suspected long before that.”

“What happened when you told him finally?”

“Oh, he did the romantic ‘I’ll marry you, I love you’ stuff. Then he went home and told his parents. They promptly called my mother, screaming bloody murder about her daughter trying to trap their baby boy.”

“Oh, nice,” Jerith said, incensed.

“Tell me about it. Anyway, my mom was very disappointed in me—not that I had gotten pregnant, but that I hadn’t been honest enough with her to tell her.”

“What did she tell John’s parents?”

“She told them to get stuffed, but in much more graphic language,” Nicolette said, smiling at that.

“Sounds like her.” Jerith nodded approvingly. “So what did she tell you? How did she react?”

“Well, she told me that what I had done was an adult act, and that now I had to act like an adult and handle it, that she’d support my decision either way. But basically her philosophy was that it was my body, and therefore my decision.”

“Yeah,” Jerith said, nodding. “That’s something my dad pounded into me, that no matter what happened between me and a woman, the woman always got stuck making a difficult decision if she got pregnant. Men really don’t have to worry about that.”

Nicolette looked surprised. “I like your parents. They sure know a lot.”

Jerith nodded. “Yep, he told me that I needed to take responsibility in the beginning so my girlfriend wouldn’t have to later. So what happened after that?” he asked, wanting to hear the whole story.

“Well, two weeks later, John’s parents moved. John tried to get me to elope with him, but I told him I wasn’t even sure if I was keeping the baby, and that the last thing I wanted to do was make two big mistakes. He didn’t like that much. For the next two months I agonized over what to do. But in the end, I couldn’t get an abortion. I always felt like a woman should have a right to choose, because it’s our body, and we have to have some control over what happens to it. But I just couldn’t do it. I knew what could happen when I had sex and I took the chance. Someone up there”—she pointed heavenward—“wanted me to get pregnant, since I took the pill regularly, and it wasn’t my place to counter that.”

“I didn’t know you were religious,” Jerith said seriously.

“I’m not really. I just believe that there is a god and that he does things for a reason. Anyway, my mom was there for me the whole time. After I had Ryan, she helped with feedings, and told me how to handle different things, like colic, diaper rash, all the good stuff. A month and a half after I had him, I went back to school and caught up in time to graduate with my class, although things weren’t quite the same anymore. Then I went to college, and you know the rest.”

“Wow.” He looked awed. “You’ve done so much with your life, compared to what a lot of people would have.”

“You do what you have to do,” she said, shrugging,

“And eventually you ended up marrying Ryan’s father…” Jerith wanted her to continue the story. He knew the highlights, but there were some things he wanted to know more about. John Harris was one of them.

“Yes, I did.”

“Do you think you would have married him if you didn’t have Ryan?” Jerith’s tone was light, but he was watching her closely.

Nicolette thought about the question for a long moment. “I don’t really know. I mean, not from high school. I know that for sure, because when he asked me to marry him then, I didn’t even consider it for a minute. But later… I don’t know. I know a lot of my feelings for him had to do with Ryan and the idea of Ryan having a father.”

“A father, or his father?” Jerith said pointedly.

Again Nicolette paused before answering. “His father, I guess.”

“But now you’re divorced… How long has it been?”

“That we’ve been divorced?” Nicolette asked, her tone strange all of a sudden.

“Yeah,” Jerith replied cautiously.

“We’re not.”

“What?” Jerith said, thoroughly shocked. He sat up, staring at her openmouthed.

“We’re not divorced yet,” she said calmly. “Does that bother you? Seeing a married woman?” she asked jokingly.

“No… but I don’t think I understand. You said John left three years ago, right?”

“Yes, but he was originally leaving to ‘sort things out.’ I waited and waited for him to come back. Every time I talked to him he begged me not to file for divorce, to give him more time. I finally gave up and filed a little under a year ago. He fought it for a while, but he’s given in now. The divorce should be final in about three or four months.”

“Okay… whew.” Jerith looked tired. “I’m glad I haven’t had to deal with any of that stuff.”

“What? Being married?” Nicolette asked as she moved to lie down, her head resting on her arms as she looked up at him.

“Yeah, it sounds like a lot of work.”

“Have you ever been close? To getting married, I mean?”

“Nope.”

“Serious relationships?”

“A few. The last one ended about six months ago.”

“And how long did that one last?”

“About six months,” he said, looking unapologetic.

“Was she a groupie?” Nicolette asked lightly, but Jerith caught the jibing edge, and he laughed.

“No. Actually, she was a professor of anthropology at UCLA.”

“Whoa, really? And how did you meet her?” Nicolette was curious in spite of herself.

“We were doing a concert there, and I was looking for the amphitheater and I accidently walked in on a class she was conducting. She gave me a hard time, but invited me to stay for the class. I did, and… well…” he said, not wanting to get into the details. He didn’t think she needed to know about moving in with her, and trying constantly to get her to loosen up, even going so far as to make love to her in her own classroom.

“So, what happened?” Nicolette knew she was getting the abridged version and was grateful for that. “Not true love?”

“Hardly,” Jerith said, laughing. “She was way too serious for me.”

“Serious how?”

“Serious, boring, overeducated, stuffy serious.”

“Oh, I thought you meant wedding bells, churches, ‘marry me’ serious.”

Jerith grinned, liking that she could come back that quickly. “No. I’m a confirmed bachelor, but I’m not paranoid about it.”

“Oh.” Nicolette nodded. “So the professor was too serious. So what do you see in me? I mean, besides my winning personality, of course,” she said caustically.

“What’s wrong with your personality? I happen to be quite fond of it, as a matter of fact. You’re fun.”

“Oh, yeah, a lot of fun. Getting shot, taking you to luncheons where you get harassed by my soon-to-be-ex-husband’s father. A lot of fun…”

“You make me laugh, plus you didn’t fall for me the minute I met you. You were a challenge.”

“A challenge, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jerith said, his tone mockingly angry. “Just about drove me crazy too.”

“I did?” Nicolette was surprised.

“Hell yes, you did.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you, but you were cool and distant. Not something I’m real used to… Oh shit, that sounded really vain, didn’t it?” He looked embarrassed.

Nicolette laughed. “Not really, I know what you meant. You’re used to groupies coming on to you and all that, right?”

“Yeah,” Jerith said, still looking self-conscious.

“Well, what can I say. I don’t date much.”

“But you have before… I mean, after John, you dated—you told me that. What about before you got married?”

“Yeah, some,” Nicolette said, shrugging. “Certainly nothing earth-shattering, not before or after.”

“Ever date a long-hair before?” he asked pointedly.

“Nope.”

“Well, that’s been your problem then.”

“My problem? I see…”

“You haven’t had enough long-hairs in your life.”

“Uh-huh, but now you’re here to make me all better, right?” Nicolette said cynically.

Jerith grinned. “God, I’d sure like to try.”

“And just what is wrong with me?” Nicolette asked haughtily, but she was smiling all the while.

Jerith leaned back against the headboard, looking at her and shrugging. “Nothing, except the fact that you’re an incredibly beautiful woman with no life.”

“I have a life.”

“You have Ryan and work.”

“That’s a life.”

“No, that’s two really big jobs. You need some fun, some action.”

“Getting shot wasn’t enough action for you?”

“That’s not action, that’s crazy,” Jerith said, giving her a narrow look. “I want to show you so much more, that life can be fun, not all work and stress.”

“Okay… but why me?” Nicolette asked, putting into words the question that had been going around in her mind for the last week. Jerith Michaels could have just about any woman in the world. Why would he want a thirty-one-year-old cop with a fifteen-year-old kid?

“Because, Nick, you’re incredible. You’ve been through so much in your life, and you’re still in there swinging. A lot of people would have given up a long time ago.” He reached over and took her hand, looking down at it as he stroked her skin. “You know, I’ve always thought there were basically two kinds of women. The type that stayed at home, cooked, cleaned, and raised the kids, like my mom. And then there were the ones who had careers. And up until now that’s been pretty much what I’ve seen. Then I meet you, and you manage to be both. You’re a great mom, very feminine without being clingy, and the kicker is that not only do you have a career, but it’s a career that most men can’t even measure up to. And from the little I saw of that, you manage to handle that with ease too.” He blew his breath out, looking her in the eyes. “Basically, you’re amazing.”

Nicolette stared back at him, too stunned to say anything at first. “I had no idea you were so enthralled, Mr. Michaels,” she finally said, her voice quiet.

“Well, now you know,” he said softly. He moved to kiss her, touching her under the chin gently. He sat back and looked at her. “Think I’m obsessed?”

“It is possible,” Nicolette said, grinning. She leaned over and kissed him, more ardently this time.

Jerith slid his hands inside her bathrobe, touching her waist and moving them around to her back. “And did I mention,” he said against her lips, “that you have the most incredible skin I have ever had the honor of touching?”

“You did say something about that, yes.” Nicolette nodded as she moved to kiss his neck, and then his chest.

Jerith drew in a quick breath. “We don’t have to leave the room today, you know,” he said, his words hurried.

“No?” Nicolette asked, her lips continuing their path down his chest.

“Hell,” Jerith said, his voice husky as her lips traveled down to his abdomen. “We don’t have to leave it the whole trip, or ever, for that matter…”

They spent the next two hours making love slowly, taking the opportunity to learn each other’s bodies much more intimately.

 

****

 

Back in Sacramento, Skyler spent the week after Billy entered the rehabilitation center working, and—to his surprise—spending some time with his son. Michael showed up the evening after Skyler took Billy to the center. Skyler was, as usual, tinkering under the hood of his car when Michael’s newer-model red Mustang pulled up. Skyler peered from around his hood. Michael Sebastian Kristiani looked a lot like his father, but he had his mother’s brown eyes as well as her long eyelashes, which, with his dark coloring, were striking. He stood about two inches shorter than his father, but his build was similar. Michael had any number of girlfriends at one time, and managed to keep them all happy without any problem.

“Hey, Dad, what’s goin’ on?” he said, walking up and leaning down to look under the hood of his father’s car. He’d always coveted Skyler’s Mustang, but had been equally happy when his father had given him the 2000 Mustang for graduation the year before. Skyler had gotten a deal on it; one of the agents at the Sacramento office had been selling it to buy something else. Skyler had repainted it personally and taken care of any and all body damage. The interior was in prime condition, and he’d checked out the engine and the other major systems as well, tuning and replacing anything that he felt needed it. Michael was very happy with his car, but he still lusted after his dad’s. “What did you do to my car?” he asked, his voice filled with mock concern.

“Nothin’,” Skyler said, grinning. “I’m just checking some stuff out, changing the oil, that kind of stuff.” He glanced up at his son. “What’re you doin’ here? What did you do to your car?”

“I didn’t do anything, Dad, really,” Michael said, sounding guilty already.

“But?”

“Well, there is this knocking sound…” Michael said as he rolled his eyes heavenward.

“Oil?”

“Changed it a thousand miles ago.”

“Clutch fluid?”

“Checked it, it’s fine.”

“Brake fluid?”

“That too.”

“You check the hoses?” Skyler asked, standing up and walking over to his son’s car. He gestured for Michael to pop the hood. He complied, then came around to look under the hood with his father. “Did you?” Skyler said.

“What? Oh, check the hoses—no.”

Skyler nodded. He checked each hose, then moved on to other possible issues.

“Here’s your problem,” he said, and took the cover off the air filter. He reached in and pulled a screw and wing nut out of the filter compartment. “Look familiar?”

“Shit, that’s where that went!” Michael said, slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“That is not a comforting statement, Michael.”

“I was checking my filter a couple weeks ago, and two girls who absolutely abhor each other showed up at my apartment. Anyway, I had to chill them out, and by the time I got back to put the cover back on my filter, the screw and wing nut had disappeared. I figured they fell on the ground somewhere, but I couldn’t find them, so I just grabbed another set.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed.

“Two girls, huh?” Skyler said, grinning and shaking his head. “Poor baby.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Michael said meaningfully. “I heard who you’ve been spending your time with.”

“You have, huh?” Skyler replaced the air filter cover and straightened up.

“Billy Montague?” Michael said disbelievingly. “She has got to be the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and my dad’s doin’ the nasty with her.”

Skyler gave him a strange look. “The nasty?” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “The terms you kids come up with.”

“Well, would you prefer ‘knockin’ boots’?” Michael asked, smiling.

Skyler laughed. “No, I don’t think so.”

“So you are though, huh?” Michael’s eyes were glittering with interest.

“Sleeping with her? Yes, not that it’s really any of your business.”

“Come on, Dad! I’m your son, you can tell me—is she as good as she looks?” He was practically pleading for details.

Skyler gave his son a long look as a slow grin started on his lips. “Better,” he said simply, and then turned and walked inside the house. Michael stood staring after his father, his mouth agape. A few long minutes later he followed him inside. He found Skyler sitting on the couch with his feet up.

“Okay, so I get that you don’t want to talk about you and Billy Montague—so let me ask you what I came here to ask you about.”

“And what would that be?” Skyler said suspiciously. It was usually geared toward his wallet.

“I want to come to work with you,” Michael blurted out, so quickly that it took Skyler a minute to catch up.

“You what?”

“I want to come to work with you,” Michael repeated, moving to sit on the ottoman his father’s feet was on. “You know, like a ride-along kind of thing. I want to see what you do.”

“Okay… Why?”

Michael shrugged. “I thought it might be interesting, and I have to do some sort of internship for school. I thought maybe I could come work for your office, and I figured doing some sort of ride-along with you would give me an idea about what it would be like working there. Ya know?” he said finally, looking hopefully at his father.

Skyler stared back at his son, his expression evaluative. “You have an internship to do, and you thought working with me would get you off easy,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, his tone disparaging.

Michael gave him a look of indignation. “Thanks a lot, Dad. I appreciate your faith in me.” His tone reflected the injury to his ego. “I take it you won’t help me, then?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t let you do it—I just want you to call a spade a spade. You were looking for an easy way out, and I fit the bill. Right?” Skyler said, leaning forward.

Michael didn’t say anything for a long moment, then blew his breath out in a sigh. “You got me. I thought it might be fun, yeah. But I am willing to work—really, Dad.”

“Okay then, we’ll give it a shot. When do you want to start coming with me?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Michael asked, grinning.

“No time like the present, huh?” Skyler’s eyes were narrowed again, but he was grinning too. “When were you supposed to arrange this?”

“Well,” Michael said, looking abashed, “I got the assignment a month ago, and I’ve been meaning to call you…”

“But all your girlfriends don’t have phones, is that it?”

Michael laughed. “Something like that.”

“So, if you want to start tomorrow, are you planning to stay here, or what?”

“Could I stay here tonight?”

“Why not,” Skyler said, shaking his head. “I get your sister back to school and out of my hair, now I get you. I thought children were supposed to grow up and move away from home, not back in.”

“It just gets worse, Dad. It just gets worse,” Michael said, smiling.

They spent a companionable evening together. They ordered pizza and Skyler allowed Michael to have a couple of beers, since he knew he wouldn’t be driving that night. They watched TV and just hung out together. It was interesting for Skyler. He and Michael had been close when Michael was younger. When he became a teenager, they had butted heads a number of times. Skyler was strict, and he had definite opinions on laziness and shunning responsibility, and as a teen his son seemed to epitomize both qualities. Skyler wondered if Michael had grown out of his old habits, or if this was just one of the many scams he liked to pull, but he figured he would see soon enough.

 

The next morning, Skyler was up early and went for his run. When he got back, he woke Michael and then went to shower. He was half surprised when he walked out to the kitchen a half hour later to find his son actually awake and dressed and sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.

“Wow,” Skyler said, grinning as he walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. “You actually got up.”

“Isn’t that why you knocked on the door and yelled ‘Get up!’?” Michael replied mildly.

Skyler laughed, nodding. “That was my intent, yes.”

Twenty minutes later they were on their way out the door when the phone rang. Skyler picked it up, looking at his watch. It was 7:30 a.m., and they were running late.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Kristiani?”

“Yes, this is he,” Skyler said, thinking it was some salesperson and impatient to be out the door.

“This is Alan Rothe. I’m the manager for Billy and the Kid,” replied a very officious voice, “and I understand that you have sole access to Billy Montague at this time.” He didn’t sound pleased in the least about that part.

Skyler was taken aback. He had assumed Billy and the Kid was run by Jerith, knowing little or nothing about the music business and having not heard of this Alan Rothe before. “And?”

“And,” Rothe sniped back, “I want to speak to my client.”

“Uh-huh,” Skyler said, purposely obtuse.

“Dad!” Michael said, hoping to help get his father out of talking to someone he obviously didn’t want to talk to. “Come on, we’re running late, remember?”

Skyler nodded, grinning at his son.

“The center said that if I went through you I could talk to her,” Rothe said impatiently.

“Well, they were half right.”

“About which part?” Rothe asked, irritated with Skyler’s attitude.

“You do have to go through me, but you aren’t going to talk to her,” Skyler said calmly.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You think because you’re fucking her you have a right to tell me I can’t talk to her? Don’t get too comfortable in those shoes, pal. She fucks a lot of guys, and it doesn’t mean shit to her.”

“Guys like you, I suppose,” Skyler said coolly.

“Are you going to tell those assholes at the center to let me talk to Billy, or do I have to get the cops involved?” Rothe snapped, ignoring Skyler’s comment.

“The cops are involved. I’m one of ’em.”

“You’re a…” Rothe started to say, then trailed off as he realized he’d insulted a cop.

“Yeah,” Skyler said, enjoying his moment of triumph. “I’m a—” He hung up the phone and walked out of the house.

Michael had stood watching his father with a grin on his face. He could see that he’d gotten his sarcastic, “cool” side from his dad. He had seen Skyler’s grin when he’d obviously pissed the person on the other end of the line off.

“Who was that?” he asked as they got into Skyler’s car.

Skyler shrugged. “Billy’s manager.”

Michael glowered at his father’s cavalier attitude. “So what did he want?”

“He wanted to talk to his client,” Skyler said, grinning as he pulled out onto the quiet road leading from his house.

“And you aren’t going to let him?” Michael asked, interested now.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t need to listen to shit from him right now.”

“Think he’ll give up that easy?” Michael said skeptically.

“No.”

Michael nodded, and they rode in silence for a while. It was broken by a ringtone, and Michael reached into his backpack to pull out his cell phone. Skyler just shook his head. It was the one thing that Michael took responsibility for and paid for—Skyler had refused to fund a phone for him. Skyler listened as Michael obviously tried to talk one girl out of beating another up for his affections. It was an amusing conversation, and Skyler could hear himself in his son’s voice as he told the girl she was very important to him, and that the other girl was just a friend. Michael did know how to keep them happy.

When he hung up, Michael saw that his father was grinning at him. “What?”

“Just keep ’em danglin’, don’t you?” Skyler said chidingly.

Michael laughed. “Oh, like you’ve got room to talk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Skyler asked, tilting his head, but he knew exactly what his son was getting at.

“I mean you and Mom, and Billy and you. Chelsea tells me everything,” Michael said proudly.

“Chelsea has a big mouth,” Skyler said, staring straight ahead. “There’s a pretty big difference here though.”

“And what would that be?” Michael was sure he had his dad in a corner.

“Do all your girlfriends know that you sleep with the other ones?”

“I like my family jewels intact and where they are, thanks. What do you think I am—crazy?”

“Therein lies the difference.”

“You’re tellin’ me that Mom and Billy know about the other one? And that you slept with both of them in the span of twenty-four hours, even?” Michael asked disbelievingly.

Skyler nodded. “Yep.”

“Bullshit, Dad! No way!” Michael said, shaking his head. “I know Mom—she’d have your head on a platter before that’d happen.”

Skyler reached up and touched his head. “Nope, still intact.” He looked over at his son. “She knows, and so does Billy.”

“Shit…” was all Michael could manage for a while. “I guess I could learn a thing or two from you, huh?” he said, giving his father an appraising look.

“Yeah,” Skyler said, snickering. “You note that I spent the night with you last night, and not one of them.”

Michael laughed then, nodding.

They arrived at the Bureau headquarters office a while later. Skyler pulled into a parking space in front, and then looked over at his son. “Okay, this is HQ, so try and behave yourself.”

“You got it, Pop,” Michael said, giving his father a salute.

Inside the office, Michael noted the approving stares his father received from some of the women. He also noted that his father spoke rather familiarly with the chiefs of the Bureau and the chiefs responded, laughing and joking with him. Michael realized he’d never been to work with his father. Skyler had said a few times that he could go, but they’d never gotten around to it. Then in his teenage years, Michael had wanted nothing to do with his dad—having a father that was a cop wasn’t really too cool. He watched his father talk smoothly to the secretaries. He was respectful but nice, and it was an interesting side for Michael to see.

Skyler introduced him to some of the ladies and a couple of the female students. Michael knew exactly what his father meant by behaving himself then. One of the students, a psych major at UC Davis, was a beautiful girl with a lot of charm and personality. Her name was Rosalynn, and she looked up at Michael with the most incredible gold-colored eyes framed with long lashes and set in a perfect heart-shaped face. She had the most perfect skin he’d ever seen. His heart just about stopped, and he found himself tongue-tied for the first time in a very long time.

“It’s nice to meet you, Michael,” Rosalynn said.

“I… it’s nice to meet you too,” he stammered.

Skyler leaned his elbow on the partition that separated his son and Rosalynn. He’d had a feeling Michael might react to the girl that way. She was a very beautiful young woman, with a great deal of intelligence behind that breathtaking face. Skyler had been charmed by her from the very beginning. As such, he’d come to feel very protective of her, although he saw her much less often now. She had been the aviation unit’s “secretary” of sorts for a long while, and he had had many conversations with her then. She’d told him about her studies at school and some of the guys she’d dated; she’d also shared with him some of her fears about school, and never reaching her goals. Skyler had done his best to encourage her to go after what she wanted and not let anyone stand in her way. She had a very supportive family and they’d helped her through a lot, and Skyler was glad that she seemed to be doing well again. He looked on her as a young person with a lot going for her. Sometimes he envied her parents at having raised such a level-headed, goal-oriented child, and wondered what they’d done differently from him. He knew the main thing was that they’d stayed together and raised their children; Rosalynn was one of five. Skyler wondered sometimes if he had really messed his kids up by not being there all the time for them. It bothered him.

“Ros,” Skyler said, giving her a cautionary look. “Don’t trust this guy for a minute.”

Rosalynn looked over at Skyler and laughed. “He’s your son, Skyler. How can you say that?”

Skyler shrugged. “’Cause he’s my son.”

“Dad!” Michael said, smiling.

“You look just like your father when you smile,” Rosalynn said.

Michael grimaced then, looking at the girl. “Is that good or bad?” he asked, looking from Rosalynn to his father and then back.

Skyler grinned as Rosalynn said, “Your father’s a very handsome man, Michael. That would be a compliment.” Her smile was sure as she looked from father to son.

Skyler reached over and patted Rosalynn on the head affectionately. “Thank you, honey, and I’ll give you that fifty bucks later.”

She laughed. “I thought it was a hundred?”

Skyler laughed then too.

They left headquarters a while later and headed for the aviation unit’s hangar out at an old Air Force base called Mather Field. Michael looked over at his father as he drove. “You’re a lot different at work than I’ve ever seen you.”

“Am I?” Skyler asked, surprised.

“Yeah. But it’s cool, you know. You walk taller, and it’s like people respect you—that’s pretty cool.”

Skyler gave his son a sidelong glance. “It is, huh?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah.” Skyler nodded too, and drove on in silence.

That day, Michael got a chance to see his father in action a few more times. Skyler ended up with a mission the minute he walked in the door to the aviation unit’s offices. He introduced Michael around and checked in with Dilinger, who was very glad Skyler seemed to be back on track. He’d been surprised by Skyler’s absences, but he didn’t begrudge his pilot the time.

Skyler Kristiani was always reliable and could be counted on in an emergency. Skyler and Dilinger had served in the Middle East together, in the same Medevac unit. When Dilinger had heard that Skyler worked for BNE, he had been adamant about not only bringing him into the aviation unit, but making him a special agent supervisor, so he could be his second-in-command. Dilinger considered Skyler the best pilot he’d ever met, and trusted his instincts above anyone else’s. Skyler James Kristiani wasn’t cocky; he didn’t try to run the unit, but he wasn’t afraid to tell Dilinger when he thought he was wrong either.

“Your old man is one of the best,” Dilinger said, clapping Skyler on the shoulder. “He’s a damned good pilot, and not the asshole that some of these guys can be,” he said, rolling his eyes. “He never flies with his ego, and best of all, he can fly anything.”

“Anything?” Michael said.

“Fixed-wing, rotor—you name it, Sky can fly it,” Dilinger said proudly.

Michael looked over at his father, his view of him once again changing. He’d always known his father was a cop and a pilot, but he’d never really realized that his dad was particularly accomplished at what he did.

 

Later, Michael was thrilled to be able to go on a ride-along with his father. He watched, fascinated, as his dad ran through his checklist, sitting in the pilot’s chair with his headset on. Skyler had given Michael his own headset so he could listen in on the radio. Michael could also talk to his father and ask him questions, which he did, frequently. Once the Cessna 182 was aloft, Michael asked questions about the radios, the navigating equipment, everything that caught his interest. Skyler held up his hand a couple of times as he was called by different control towers telling him which course to stay on. Michael was again impressed with his father’s knowledge of airplanes and the ease with which he flew. A little while later, Skyler let him take the controls for a little bit. Michael was thrilled, feeling the power of the airplane vibrating under his hands.

“I’m really flying?” Michael said, elated.

“Yep,” Skyler said, grinning over at his son. He wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner. He was very happy that Michael seemed interested in what everything was, and he was happy to be able to tell him. Looking over at him now, Skyler felt a strong pull at his heart. Here his son was flying a plane, and looking like a big kid doing it. It made him feel good.

Later, they landed at Stockton Airport and taxied over to Spanos Jet Center to wait for the observer that would join them. Skyler motioned for Michael to follow him out of the aircraft, and then walked toward the center. Michael was surprised when a petite female with blond hair walked out of the building—surprised because she was wearing an agent’s badge like his father’s and carrying a gun. He was further surprised when she greeted Skyler with a warm hug.

“How are you?” she said.

“Fine, Sam, just fine.” Skyler glanced back at his son. “Sam, this is my son, Michael. Michael, this is Special Agent Samantha Howard. Be nice—she’s a real good shot,” he said, winking at Samantha.

Michael stepped forward and extended his hand. Samantha took it and gave it a firm shake, her blue eyes looking directly into his.

“You’re Skyler’s son?” She seemed surprised. She looked back at Skyler. “Well, I guess that you’re related is obvious, but you’re old enough to have a son this old?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sam,” Skyler said, his smile bright.

“Will it now?” she said suggestively, but her smile was only humorous.

Skyler wagged a finger at her. “You just want me for my plane.”

Samantha snapped her finger, clicking her tongue. “Damn, you caught me again!”

“You ready to go up?”

“Yep, let’s go. I’ll brief you in pre-flight, okay?”

A little while later, in the plane, Samantha explained to Skyler and Michael that the person they’d be watching that day was a go-between for the street dealers and the bigger guys. The suspect ran cocaine back and forth constantly, and today they were conducting a buy-walk.

“What’s that?” Michael asked.

“That’s when an undercover officer makes a purchase of drugs and then lets the dealer walk away, and then we follow the dealer back—hopefully—to his stash,” Samantha said patiently.

“So what’s important about the plane?” Michael asked, very interested in all aspects of this work.

“The plane is used to cover the surveillance on the ground,” Skyler said. When Michael seemed to need more of an answer, he continued. “A lot of the crooks nowadays know that they’re being watched, so they do what’s called countersurveillance. Sometimes they’ll turn down dead-end streets and wait to see how many unmarked police vehicles follow them in. That way they know to call off whatever they’ve got going, and we’ve wasted man hours.”

“The plane can keep the car in sight and let the ground crew know if the bad guy tries to counter them,” Samantha took up almost excitedly. “That way we can make Mr. Drug Dealer nice and comfy so he’ll go ahead and lead us to his source, or his stash, or his friends…”

“Plus,” Skyler added, “there is the public safety issue here too. If the plane is tracking the suspect from the air, the ground units can safely hang back. They don’t worry about losing him, so they don’t have to drive at high speeds, run red lights, or drive erratically to keep up. Thereby making us safer.”

“Wow.” Michael looked awed. “I never thought about it like that before.”

Skyler shrugged. “Most people think that having aircraft is just for show, but if used properly we can be really effective.”

“We wouldn’t make half our cases without BNE aircraft,” Samantha said.

“So what do you do?” Michael asked. “Are you just riding along too?”

“No.” Samantha laughed. “Like my SAS would let me!”

“Sam’s an observer, Mike,” Skyler said. He pointed to the extra-large window that went from ceiling to floor in the rear half of the plane. “That’s an observer window, and Sam sits in that seat there.” He pointed to the side-facing seat behind the copilot’s chair. “And with some maneuvering of the seat and the use of gyro-stabilized binoculars, she watches the car we’re following and tells me which way to turn the aircraft so she can keep the bad guy in sight.”

“Gyro-what?” Michael said.

“Gyro-stabilized,” Skyler repeated patiently. “They stabilize the field of vision electronically so that Sam can follow the guy while the plane moves all over without getting sick. Most of the time…” He trailed off as he glanced back at Samantha, who started to laugh.

“Never gonna live that down, am I?” she said.

“Sam got sick her first time out,” Skyler explained to Michael. “I’ve seen much bigger, stronger, tougher guys lose their cookies on these flights, Sam. I’ve told you that.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, grinning.

Michael sat in stunned silence while they took off. He really hadn’t realized how important his father’s job was. He had figured that his dad flew around picking up stuff and dropping it off, like a cargo plane. He didn’t think he was really law enforcement any more. He saw now that he’d been wrong.

Michael was careful to be quiet while the surveillance went on. He was so engrossed with the exchanges between his father, Samantha, and the ground crew. He was astounded that his father could listen to everyone at once. At one point the ground crew lost the suspect on the freeway, and with the help of Samantha and Skyler they were able to relocate him. When they got to the stash house, Skyler was cleared to land at a nearby airport. They touched down, and Michael suddenly realized he had to go to the bathroom something fierce. His father looked over at him as he taxied over to the fueling hangar.

“Gotta go, huh?” he said, grinning.

Michael grinned back. “Yeah.”

Skyler looked at his watch. “You got ten minutes while I gas up. The bathroom is that way.” He pointed in the direction of a group of buildings and then got out of the plane. Samantha had already headed off in that direction, so Michael ran to catch up to her. She showed him where to go, and was even waiting for him, leaning against the wall, when he came out of the building.

“So,” Michael said as they walked back toward the aircraft, “how do you know my dad? Just from missions?”

“Nope,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “I met him when I was in the academy four years ago. He was teaching the observer class for aviation. I was afraid to fly. He helped me out a lot.” She looked pointedly at Michael. “Your dad’s pretty cool. I’m glad he seems to be doing better.”

“You noticed that too, huh?”

“Yeah, he’d been really quiet since, well… you know, and now he seems livelier again. What happened?” she asked, then looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, it’s probably none of my business.”

“No, it’s cool. He’d kill me if he knew I was talking to you about his heart attack, but he’s been seeing this woman and I think it’s made a difference.”

“I guess so,” Samantha said, grinning. “You know, I had the biggest crush on him when I was in the academy.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

She smiled. “He told me to talk to him when I was about ten years older.”

“How old are you?” Michael asked. Then it was his turn to look embarrassed. “Oops—my mother told me I’m not supposed to ask a lady’s age…”

“I’m not old enough to be worried about that yet. I’m twenty-seven.”

“So you were twenty-three then?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but the woman he’s seeing is thirty…”

“Ah-ha!” Samantha said, laughing. “I knew it—he just didn’t want me. Is she a blond?”

“No, she’s got black hair, and she’s a rock star. Ever heard of Billy and the Kid?” Samantha nodded. “He’s dating Billy Montague.”

“Well,” Samantha said, sighing dramatically. “I guess I can’t measure up to that, now, can I?” Then she looked at Michael seriously as they reached the plane. “Is he really?”

“Is he really what?” Skyler asked, walking around the aircraft and opening the door for them.

Samantha grinned. “You’re dating Billy Montague?”

Skyler rolled his eyes, then gave his son a sharp look. “Big mouth,” was all he said.

“So it’s true?” Samantha said as she buckled herself in.

“Yes, okay.” Skyler shook his head ruefully as he climbed into the pilot’s seat and put on his headset, hoping to delay any further conversation on the subject. But he immediately heard Samantha’s voice in his ear.

“She’s younger than thirty-three—what’s she got that I don’t? Besides a perfect body and a lot of money?” Samantha’s voice was low, and Skyler glanced over. He noticed to his relief that Michael hadn’t donned his headset yet.

“Be good,” Skyler told Samantha, grinning back at her.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said, laughing.

The rest of the mission went off without a hitch. The ground crew ended up arresting the suspect and seizing two kilos of cocaine and $40,000 in cash. On the way back to Sacramento, Skyler again let Michael do a little bit of flying, keeping his hands close to the yoke at all times.

That evening, Michael looked at his father with more respect, understanding now the job his dad did. They spent the following day much the same way, and Michael met yet another agent who thought aviation was the end all and be all of their cases. On the drive back to Skyler’s house that night, Skyler’s phone rang. He answered and was surprised to hear Theresa’s voice.

“Skyler?”

“Terry,” Skyler said, smiling.

“Have you seen or heard from Michael?” She sounded frantic.

Skyler looked sharply over at his son. Michael looked immediately contrite, realizing he’d failed to let his mother know he was staying with his father during his spring break. “He’s here, Terry,” Skyler said evenly, still looking at his son. “With me.”

“Thank God!” Theresa said, clearly relieved. “I’ve been looking all over for him.”

“I’m sorry, Ter, I figured he’d have called you,” Skyler said, sounding apologetic.

“It’s not your fault our son’s an irresponsible lout,” Theresa said, her tone joking now.

Skyler grinned. “He gets that from me.”

Terry laughed. “Tell me about it. So what are you two up to?”

“He’s kind of riding along with me, some sort of school thing.”

“On his spring break?” Terry asked cynically. She knew Michael’s ways even better than Skyler.

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought,” Skyler said, shaking his head.

“Oh boy.” Terry had caught Skyler’s tone. “You just got rid of one kid, now you have the other one—so much for your social life.”

“Didn’t have much of one anyway.”

“Well, if you get tired of him, send him back to campus.”

Skyler grinned. “You got it, Mom.”

They talked for a couple of minutes more, then hung up. When Skyler looked over at his son, Michael was watching him. “What?” he said.

“You and Mom seem to be getting along pretty good.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Skyler said mildly.

“Nothing.” Michael shrugged. “It’s just different, that’s all.”

“Different?”

“I’m used to either cold silence or fighting between you two—this is different.”

“Pretty rough, huh?” Skyler said, referring to the fighting.

“Sometimes, like on holidays and stuff. Me and Chelsea feel pulled in different directions, and it’s hard not to feel like someone’s getting the short end of the stick, ya know?” Michael said tentatively.

“Yeah,” Skyler said, looking thoughtful. “I’m sorry about that. You know, when your mom and I couldn’t work things out, the last thing I wanted to do was to make things hard on you kids. That’s why I gave her full custody. I didn’t want you to feel like you were being pulled apart.” He looked disheartened. “Guess that happened anyway, didn’t it?”

“It’s not your fault, Dad,” Michael said, looking very adult to Skyler all of a sudden. “Things happen, and you can’t control them. I mean, I know you tried, but I guess Mom just couldn’t forgive you, that’s all.”

Skyler looked over at his son. “There was a lot to forgive, Michael. I don’t know that any woman would have been able to do it. I was asking for too much.”

Michael didn’t say anything for a long time, then gave his father a sidelong glance. “Billy’s the reason you and Mom broke up, isn’t she?”

Skyler didn’t answer at first. Then he looked over at Michael, shaking his head. “No, she’s not. Billy was the last woman I had an affair with, not the only one. It wasn’t that simple, Michael. I do think that my affair with Billy was basically the straw that broke the camel’s back, but she wasn’t the cause of the divorce.”

“Were there a lot of women, Dad?” Michael asked evenly.

Skyler looked disconcerted as he nodded. “Where do you think you get it from?” he said tonelessly.

“Then why was Billy different?”

Again Skyler hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t know that she was. I think your mom had just had it by that time. Can you blame her?” It was obvious to Michael that his father was ashamed of his past behavior.

“But she’s obviously gotten over it now. I mean, if you two were together again…”

Skyler shrugged. “I don’t know that saying she’s gotten over it is quite an accurate way to put it.”

“Well, how or why else would she be with you again?” Michael asked, looking very confused.

Skyler chuckled. “I think there’s a lot going on there. First of all, she saw a chance to get back a little of her own from Billy.”

Michael looked impressed. “You mean, like take you back from Billy?”

“Kind of,” Skyler said, shaking his head. “Who understands women?”

Michael was silent for a while again, then, “Do you love Billy?”

Skyler looked surprised at the question. “I don’t know if love can be equated to someone like Billy. That would be like saying you love the tidal wave that destroyed your house but spared your car. She’s kind of overwhelming.”

“Wow…” Michael said, amazed. “Do you still love Mom?”

“I tell you what I hate,” Skyler said, giving his son a long look. “I hate playing twenty questions.”

“Okay.” Michael held up his hand. “Just answer me this. If you had a chance to get back together with Mom, would you do it, or stay with Billy?”

“First of all, I don’t think getting back together with your mom is really an option. We enjoyed each other’s company one night—that doesn’t make a reconciliation, Michael. There’s a lot of water under that bridge. And as for Billy, I don’t know that I’m ‘with’ her. She’s got a lot of problems to work out, and I’m trying to help her because I feel partially responsible for them. Okay?”

“Does she love you?” Michael asked, going straight to the heart of the matter.

“I don’t think Billy knows how she feels about anything right now,” Skyler said noncommittally. She had said she loved him the night she’d tried to kill herself, but she had been talking about the past.

Michael nodded, not understanding fully but aware that his father didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

Skyler went to bed early that night and was awoken at 10:30 p.m. when the phone next to the bed rang. He reached over groggily to pick it up.

“Hello?” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep.

“Skyler?” Billy said hesitantly.

“Billy, hi.” He smiled as he reached up to rub his eyes so he could actually open them. “How’s it going?”

“Were you asleep?” she asked, sounding different somehow.

“Yeah, but I’m up now,” Skyler said softly.

“I didn’t mean to wake you—I’ll just call back,” she said, obviously about to hang up.

“Billy! Wait!” Skyler was surprised by her mood. “Tell me how you are.” His tone was beseeching now; this was the first time he’d heard from her in the three days she’d been at the center.

“I’m okay,” she said, and Skyler could almost feel her shrug.

“Okay? Baby, talk to me.”

“I’ll call back, Skyler. I just… I’ll call back, okay?” she said, sounding very distant.

“Well… okay, I guess. Are you really okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Billy said, all business. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” And to his surprise, she hung up.

Skyler lay back, closing his eyes. He opened them a moment later and picked up the phone. He called the center and verified that she was still there. It had occurred to him that she could have taken off, and that she’d been calling from somewhere else. He was told Ms. Montague was indeed still at the center.

“I’m glad you called, Mr. Kristiani,” the nurse said. “We’ve been receiving irate calls from a Mr. Rothe. He keeps insisting that he speak to Ms. Montague, but we’ve been following procedure and not allowing him access to her. How would you like us to proceed?”

“Have you told Billy about his calls?”

“No, sir.”

“Well,” Skyler said, considering the idea, “go ahead and tell her, and let her decide if she wants to take the calls. I do want you to call me if he tries to take her out of the center, or if she tries to leave on her own.”

“Okay, Mr. Kristiani. I’ve noted it in the computer. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Ms.…”

“Hannah. Sabrina Hannah, sir.”

“Thank you, Sabrina.”

After Skyler hung up, he lay in bed thinking about the strange call from Billy. He didn’t understand her abrupt manner, unless she was mad at him now for taking her to the center. It wasn’t like Billy to keep her mouth shut though—she was the type of woman to scream. Silent rage wasn’t her style.