CHAPTER ELEVEN
SANDIE JEWELL WAS FIFTYISH, tall, slender and dark-eyed, with wavy light brown hair cut short and a beaming smile. Tippy liked her at once. She was nobody’s idea of the matronly female.
She checked Tippy’s medication to make sure she kept it on schedule, although it was only antibiotics and a tablet that helped keep her lungs clear. She hurried Tippy off to her bedroom after supper, because she needed to rest after the long trip.
When Tippy was comfortably settled, Sandie closed the door and went into the kitchen to talk to Cash.
“Is she resting?” Cash asked, offering her coffee, which she accepted.
“She’s tired,” Sandie replied, “and there’s a little more congestion in that lung. I’m going to get her up and walking in the morning, and fill her full of fluids to thin the secretions. Lord, she looks like a walking car accident victim!” she added, shaking her head. “I’ll never understand what makes a man do that to a woman.”
“We’ve both seen enough cases of domestic abuse,” Cash agreed. “She has to be watched all the time. If Stanton does send a hired gun out here after her, we can’t risk being surprised. I tucked your .45 in its case into the bathroom closet, up high, behind some towels. It’s loaded.”
“Thanks. If I have to use it,” she told him, “I won’t miss.”
He smiled. “I know that. I appreciate you staying with her, Sandie. There’s nobody I trust more.”
“You going in tonight?”
“Thought I might…”
Just as he spoke, the phone rang. He picked it up quickly, before it disturbed Tippy. “Grier,” he said at once.
“Chief, you’d better come over here,” one of his officers said hesitantly. “There’s some trouble.”
“What sort?” he asked.
“Two of our patrol officers just made an arrest for drunk driving. They brought the perp in, handcuffed, and did a breath test. He failed. They’re filing a citation. He’s hopping mad and threatening to have their jobs.”
“Who is he?”
There was a pause. “State Senator Merrill.”
Cash took a long breath. This was any police officer’s worst nightmare. Most politicians would fire any officer who dared to arrest them. Certainly, they’d do their best to make the arresting officer quit. Cash had seen it happen in a dozen cities over the years.
“The acting mayor phoned and told me to fire the arresting officers on the spot,” the watch commander added.
“You’re firing nobody, on my orders,” Cash said at once. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. You tell Brady he’ll have to talk to me before any jobs are sacrificed, and that goes double for Senator Merrill.”
“The senator’s daughter is on her way here, too. She’s thick with Jordan Powell.”
Powell was a rich rancher. Very rich, and very high-tempered. Cash wondered if facing down a hit man wasn’t an easier proposition than stepping into this lava pit.
“I’m on my way. Keep your cool,” Cash told the man.
Sandie shook her head when he hung up the phone. “No need to tell me what’s going on. One of our deputies got fired for pulling over a state legislator once. Never had a chance.”
“These officers aren’t walking,” he said curtly.
Cash put on his uniform, took his service revolver and holster out of his desk drawer and put them on.
The bustle of activity made Tippy curious. She came out of her bedroom and down the hall, stopping short when she saw Cash in uniform. It was a shock, even though she’d seen him that way when she was filming in Jacobsville. It had been a long time.
“You look very nice. Are you going to work at this hour?” she asked.
He glanced at her. “Go back to bed. You need to be resting. I’ve got a small problem downtown. I’ll be back when I can.”
Tippy had to bite her tongue to stop from saying “be careful.” She had a sudden, shocking glimpse of what it would be like if they were married and she had to watch him go to work every day, knowing he might not come home.
The knowledge was in her whole expression. Cash saw it and was disturbed by it. He checked his weapon and holstered it before walking to Tippy and taking her gently by the shoulders.
“This is what I do,” he said softly. “I don’t know a way of life that doesn’t involve risk of some sort. In fact, I don’t think I could live without it.”
She couldn’t help feeling that he was making a statement about their future. She managed a smile. “I know you’re good at what you do. Judd told me.”
His big hands lifted to frame her face. “I’m always careful, and the only real risks I take are calculated ones. I’m not suicidal, even remotely. It’s carelessness that gets you killed in this business.”
She drew in a long breath and lifted her hands to straighten his tie. She smiled, because it was such an intimate, domestic thing to do. “Don’t get killed,” she said simply.
His heart jumped. He bent and drew his lips very softly over her full lips. She wasn’t wearing makeup to camouflage her bruises, but she was still beautiful. She smelled vaguely of roses.
She lifted her face closer to his, her eyes closed, her mouth smiling. Her hands were on his chest now, because it was painful to lift them as far as his tie. She loved letting him kiss her. This was a slow, tender kiss tasting unlike the kisses that had gone before. This one wasn’t urgent or passionate or ardent. It was gentle. It made promises.
“Go back to bed,” he said when he lifted his head. His dark eyes were turbulent. “This may take a while.”
“Okay.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that sound docile,” he chided, studying her guileless smile. “And the minute I walk out the door, you’ll be cleaning the kitchen or trying to rear range the cabinets.”
“Not yet. It still hurts too much.” She smiled demurely.
“I’ll wait until next week, at least.”
He chuckled softly. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he murmured. “I’m a happy bachelor.”
“There’s no such thing,” she replied smugly.
He gave her a daunting look, but she kept smiling.
“Did somebody rob a bank?” she probed.
“They’re trying to fire two of my officers for stopping a politician who was driving drunk,” he replied.
Her eyes opened wide. “Why?”
“Because he’s a rich politician.”
“Big deal,” she said flatly. “The law is the law.”
“Darling!” he exclaimed and kissed her firmly. He drew back at once, and chuckled at her expression. “Don’t get your hopes up. That was an accident.”
She cocked her head, curious.
He shrugged. “I like it when you take my side.”
She grinned. “I know where we could get a ring,” she said to irritate him.
He pursed his lips. “So do I, but we’re not getting one.”
Tippy spotted Mrs. Jewell at the kitchen door. “Mrs. Jewell, he’s toying with my affections and he won’t marry me.”
Mrs. Jewell gaped at her.
“No, he won’t,” Cash agreed pleasantly. “And I am not toying with your affections. I only kissed you because you think I’m right.”
“No, you didn’t. You kissed me because you couldn’t help yourself.” She struck a pose, despite the twinge of pain in her rib cage. “I’m simply irresistible.”
“You need a guitar and a band and you can sing that,” he pointed out.
She remembered the song he was alluding to, whose wonderful composer had died. “It was a great song.”
“I thought so, too,” he said. He gave her a wicked look. “Go to bed.”
She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
“And you stop that,” he added firmly. “Mrs. Jewell is going to protect me from you, so watch your step.”
“You’re really going to do that?” Tippy asked the older woman. “Don’t you like me?”
Mrs. Jewell burst out laughing. Cash took the opportunity to shoot out the door while he was still one step ahead.
“I’ve known him almost a year,” she told Tippy, as they listened to his car drive away. “Never saw him laugh as much as he has in the past few minutes. I think he’s sweet on you.”
“I’m hurt and he feels sorry for me,” Tippy replied carelessly. “But he doesn’t growl so much when I’m teasing him.”
Mrs. Jewell’s dark eyes didn’t miss much. “Love him a lot, don’t you?” she probed.
Tippy hesitated, then she smiled and sighed. “For all the good it will do either one of us. He’s not a marrying man, and he sees me as a risk.”
“What you are on the screen isn’t what you are at home,” the other woman pointed out.
“How perceptive of you,” Tippy said, surprised. “Most people can’t see that.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice sizing up people,” Mrs. Jewel said. “Now you get back in bed, Miss Tippy. You need rest, so that you can get better.”
Tippy touched her face. The cuts were still sore and red. “I must look terrible,” she said.
“You look like someone who’s been hurt, dear,” came the soft reply. “Those cuts and bruises will heal. So will your ribs. But you must rest and drink lots of fluids so that you don’t let your lungs get any more congested. Flying in a pressurized cabin can’t have helped them.”
“It didn’t, very much,” Tippy confessed. “But driving that distance would have been so much worse. I’ve got medicine, and I promise I’ll take it. I really want to finish this film, so I get paid.” She noticed how the older woman was looking at her and felt anger about the tabloids’ reporting of her earlier accident.
“An assistant director swore that jump was harmless and refused to hire a stunt double,” she explained. “I didn’t have a good feeling about it, but I didn’t want to lose my job because I was being paranoid about risking the pregnancy. I didn’t have much money coming in, and there was my little brother’s school fees and my rent to pay. I’d done similar stunts without an accident so I foolishly trusted the assistant director and took a chance I should have refused to take. As a result, I lost my footing and fell. And I lost my baby,” she added, almost choking on the words.
Mrs. Jewell winced. “I lost two,” she said softly. “I know how it feels.”
The two women exchanged looks. Words weren’t even necessary.
“Go back to bed,” Mrs. Jewell prompted. “I’ll bring you something nice to drink and then maybe you can sleep.”
“I won’t until Cash comes home,” Tippy said worriedly.
The other woman chuckled, herding Tippy toward the bedroom. “That’s one man you never have to worry about. He can take care of himself. Wait and see!”
THE POLICE STATION, usually quiet with a skeleton crew on the night shift, was literally a hothouse of activity. Three patrol officers were standing around the desk at which the night secretary/bookkeeper worked. A senior citizen was weaving slightly and making threats of immediate action against two patrol officers—a male and a female—who were tight-lipped and worried. A beautiful young woman in expensive clothes was telling everyone what was going to happen if they didn’t drop the charges against her father immediately.
Cash walked in, his very stride threatening. “Okay, what’s up?” he asked curtly.
Everybody started talking at once.
Cash held up his hand. “Who made the collar?” he asked.
Lieutenant Carlos Garcia, a veteran officer who was in charge of the patrol unit, and Officer Dana Hall, a new female recruit, stepped forward. Cash knew them well. Garcia’s wife was the county public health nurse, be loved by the local citizens. Dana’s late father had been one of the most respected superior court judges in the circuit.
“Hall was riding with me,” Garcia said quietly. “We observed a car weaving in and out of its lane and bumping the shoulder repeatedly. We followed him for a mile to make sure the complaint was valid. He almost hit another car head-on. That was when I threw on my lights and siren and pulled him over.”
“Go on.” Cash urged him to continue.
“Hall and I approached the car in a textbook manner, one on either side of the car, in case the suspect was armed. I asked to see his license and registration, but the perpetrator immediately stepped out and began making threats. I smelled alcohol on his breath, so I tested his reflexes by making him touch his nose with his eyes closed and walk a straight line. He couldn’t do either.”
“What happened next?” Cash probed.
“I then advised him that I was bringing him into the station for a breath test. He began cursing me and began resisting arrest. I subdued him while Hall handcuffed him. We brought him in, and administered the test. His blood alcohol is .15—which puts him well over the legal limit for alcohol consumption—so I issued a citation, locked him up and had our bookkeeper Miss Phibbs phone his daughter, at his request, to sign a property bond and secure his release until his hearing.”
“You can’t arrest my father for drunk driving the month before the primary election!” the senator’s pretty blond daughter protested. “I want these officers fired. My father is not drunk!”
“Indeed, I am…am not!” the senator mumbled. “You’re all fired!” he added, weaving.
“Since you’ve posted bond, you can go home in your daughter’s custody,” Cash told the older man pleasantly. “You’ll appear in city court before the city judge to defend the charge. At that time, the judge will make a decision about the possible revocation of your driver’s license.”
“Our attorney will take care of all that, the minute I can get in touch with him. You can bet on it!” the senator’s daughter said haughtily.
“You can’t take away my license, I’m a senator!” the old man said belligerently.
“That will be for the court to decide.”
“I’ll have your job for this!” the senator raged furiously.
Before the situation could escalate, the acting mayor, Ben Brady, came into the station in a T-shirt and slacks that looked hastily thrown on. “What’s going on?” he asked, and the arresting officers had to explain the situation once more.
“Bosh,” Brady said huffily. “My uncle never drinks and drives. You can drop the charges and tear up that bond. This is all a mistake.”
“It is not a mistake,” Cash said firmly, moving closer to the mayor, whom he towered over. He looked threatening. “My officers made a legitimate arrest. They have the results of a breath-analysis test to back it up. The senator is over the legal limit for driving. He is being issued with citations for the offense. That’s the law.”
Brady turned red in the face. “We’ll just see what our city attorney thinks about that!”
“He’d better think that these officers are hired to en force the law,” Cash returned. “And before you question that,” he added when Brady started to speak again, “you’d better remember that Simon Hart is the state attorney general.”
“Which won’t help you…!” Brady raged.
“The Harts are my second cousins,” Cash replied quietly, and there was a sudden stillness in the room. He hadn’t made that bit of information public before.
Brady turned to the senator. “Uncle, I’m certain this is all just a mistake. Go along with what they want you to do for now. I’ll set up a disciplinary hearing for the arresting officers next month and we’ll get to the bottom of this. You won’t object to that, I hope?” he asked the chief of police.
Cash only smiled. “Why should I? My officers did nothing wrong.” The smile faded. “But they will not be suspended, with or without pay, until they are formally charged with misconduct and given the opportunity to defend themselves.”
Brady looked as if he wanted badly to make that charge, but he was intimidated by Cash. “Very well,” he said huffily. “Your people will be notified when to appear in city court.”
“You’d better look for another job,” Julie Merrill said hatefully.
“Oh, I have a job, Miss Merrill,” Cash replied pleasantly. “I have no plans to resign.”
“We’ll see about that!” she scoffed.
Cash smiled at her. She actually took a backward step and rejoined her father and the acting mayor with out saying another word.
MINUTES LATER, the office was cleared of civilians. Only the bookkeeper—smiling smugly—Cash and his two patrol officers were still in the building. He glanced at his two distraught officers. “What?” he asked, when he saw their expressions.
Garcia shifted uncomfortably. “We thought you’d want us to resign.”
“That’s right,” Hall agreed.
“Like I can just go out and pick up two good patrol officers any time I feel like it in a town of less than two thousand souls!” Cash exclaimed.
“It’s going to be messy,” Garcia said. “I’ve seen this happen before. Old Sergeant Manley arrested a city councilman for drunk driving years ago, and they fired him. He was a year away from retirement. Chief Blake never said a word.”
Cash met the other man’s eyes evenly. “I’m not Chet Blake.”
Sergeant Garcia managed a smile. “Yes, sir. We, uh, noticed.”
Cash stood up, with Hall beside him.
“Thanks for standing up for us, Chief,” Officer Hall said. “But we’re willing to resign, if we have to.”
“I’m not resigning,” Cash said easily. “Neither is anybody else, for doing his job. Or her job,” he added with a grin at Hall.
“They won’t make it easy,” Garcia persisted. “And we don’t have legal counsel. We’re such a small department that there’s no attorney on staff.”
“We might get Mr. Kemp,” Hall ventured.
“I’ll get legal counsel,” Cash told them in a pleasant tone. “You’re going to find that a lot of people around here are tired of politicians bypassing the law. We’re going to put a stop to it. And nobody’s quitting. Got that?”
They smiled, not really believing him, but more hopeful than they’d been when they walked into the room.
CASH WENT HOME, tired but satisfied. He should have been surprised that Tippy was still up, waiting for him in the living room.
“I told Sandie to make sure you went to bed!” he grumbled.
“Don’t blame her,” Tippy replied, wrapped up comfortably in a gown with a quilted robe covering up all of her, except her hands and feet and head. “She can’t stay up late. Once she was asleep, I got up again. I felt like sitting up for a while, that’s all,” she lied. Actually, she’d been afraid that something had happened to Cash, and there was no way she could have slept until he was home.
He had one of the strangest feelings he’d ever known in his life. He couldn’t remember a single time when his wife had waited up to see if he’d come home or not, even when he thought she loved him the most. He was completely alone. Now, here sat this gorgeous woman with red-gold hair and haunting green eyes, a woman who was idolized by men everywhere. And she was sitting up on his sofa waiting, because she’d been afraid for him.
He didn’t say anything. He removed his pistol and its holster and put them away, frowning curiously.
“You’re angry,” she surmised.
He didn’t look at her. “I don’t know how I feel.”
“You could lie down on the sofa and tell me about your childhood,” she suggested with a wicked little smile.
He cocked one eyebrow and gave her a long look. “If I lie down on a sofa, you’re going to be lying down on it first.”
Her cheeks showed just a hint of embarrassment. “Bruised ribs,” she reminded him.
“Oh, they’ll heal,” he replied. “Then look out.”
“It’s no use, you’ve already said you won’t marry me,” she said with a big grin. “I almost never play around on sofas with confirmed bachelors.”
“Spoilsport.”
He sat down in the easy chair next to the sofa with a heavy sigh and removed his neat tie, unbuttoning the top buttons of his blue shirt to reveal a spotless white T-shirt underneath it.
“Want to talk?” she asked, without pushing too hard.
He frowned. “I’ve never had anyone to talk about things with,” he said conversationally. “The one time I was married, my wife hated my job.”
She searched his eyes. “Something’s upset you.”
“Will you stop reading my mind?” he demanded, slinging his tie onto the coffee table.
“It isn’t deliberate,” she tried to explain. “And, if you want to know, it’s more of a curse than a blessing. I can only read negative things, like danger and emotional unrest.”
He leaned back and crossed his long legs. “You can tell when something’s wrong with Rory, can’t you?”
She nodded. “Since he was very small. I had it with my grandmother, too. I knew when she was going to die, and how.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her slender body. “I saw it in a dream.”
“It must unsettle people when you tell them about it,” he remarked.
She met his eyes evenly. “I’ve never told anyone. Not even Rory.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to freak him out. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the gift. My mother certainly doesn’t,” she added. “What will happen to her?”
“If she’s involved, she’ll serve time,” he said. “Kid napping is a federal offense.”
She was quiet for a long time. “If they sent her to prison, maybe she’d dry out.”
He smiled quizzically. “You don’t think prisoners have access to alcohol and drugs?”
“They can’t,” she replied. “Not in prison.”
He leaned back again and closed his eyes. He was tired. “Honey, you can get anything you want in prison. It’s another whole social structure, with its own hierarchy. Anyone can be bribed, for the right amount and the right reason.”
“You’re very cynical,” she noted, still tingling from the endearment he probably hadn’t even realized he’d used for her. They were all alone in the world, and talking like husband and wife. It made her feel warm all over.
“I know all about the world,” he said wearily. “Most of the time, it’s a dangerous, joyless place with few compensations for the pain of going through life.”
“Family is a powerful compensation,” she remarked.
He opened his eyes and looked at her coldly. “Family is more dangerous than the outside world.”
She knew that. It showed in her quiet, haunted eyes.
He grimaced. He hadn’t meant to attack her. It had disturbed him that she knew he was upset. He never talked about the job, except to other people in law enforcement. Tippy knew too much about him, and he didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust anyone.
She could see the future in his face. He would fight with every breath to keep her at arm’s length, both physically and mentally. He didn’t trust her not to hurt him.
“You even know what I’m thinking right now, don’t you?” he growled.
She blinked and looked away. “I think something happened at work that made you angry, and you’re holding it inside because there’s nobody you can talk to about it. Nothing that happened to you personally,” she added. “But to someone you like.”
It was like a small explosion when his hard-soled shoes hit the hardwood floor as he got to his feet and stalked out of the room.
Tippy sighed. She didn’t want to upset him any more, but it was dangerous for him to keep things bottled up. Stress was dangerous, even to a man of Cash’s good health and fitness. If only he could talk about his problems. She smiled to herself, remembering what he’d said about his mother and father and the turmoil of divorce. First his stepmother, then his wife, had betrayed him in the worst way. He could trust another man far easier than he was ever going to be able to trust a woman.
She got to her feet slowly. So much for her hopes. He was going to spend her whole convalescence pushing her away. It wasn’t surprising, but it was painful. Without trust, no deeper emotion was ever going to develop.
With a slow gait, she went back down the hall to her room and pushed the door shut gently. She peeled off her robe and climbed into bed, producing her copy of the Plinys to read, because she still wasn’t sleepy.
Five minutes later, there was a brief knock on the door and Cash came into the room with a tray. On it were a cup of hot chocolate and some ginger cookies.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he muttered as he closed the door and put the tray down on the bedside table. “I’m not conceding defeat, and I’m not talking to you about work.”
“Okay,” she said easily. “Thanks for the bedtime snack.”
He stood up, looking at her with clinical interest. Her creamy shoulders were bare except for pink satin straps that held up her lacy pink gown. Her breasts were high and firm under it, and he remembered without conscious thought how it felt to put his mouth on them and make her moan with pleasure.
Tippy noticed his interest and pretended not to. She sipped the chocolate. “This is good,” she commented.
“It’s a packaged mix. I can’t make it from scratch.” He was wearing just the undershirt now, with his slacks. He looked worn.
She tried one of the ginger cookies. They were delicious.
“Mrs. Garcia sent them, along with the biscuits and preserves we had when we got here.”
“They’re very nice.”
He took a long, sharp breath. “Two of my patrol officers arrested a politician for driving drunk. He’s trying to have them fired, and the acting mayor, his nephew, is putting pres sure on me to do it. He wants me fired as well.”
She swallowed the rest of the ginger cookie. She was tingling all over. He actually was willing to talk to her about his job! It was a milestone. She had to fight tears. “He’ll have his work cut out,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
He was pleasantly surprised at her confidence in him. “Yes, he will,” he conceded. “I’ve gotten used to Jacobsville. Even if I’m still something of an outsider, I seem to fit in here.”
“You like it,” she said.
He smiled faintly. “I like it a lot.” He watched her eat another cookie. “You look pretty in pink. I thought redheads didn’t wear it.”
She smiled. “I don’t, usually, but Rory gave it to me for Christmas, along with the robe.”
“I thought so.”
“I miss him.”
“I’m sure you do,” he replied. “But he’s far safer in military school than he would be in New York. The minute school’s out, we’ll bring him here.”
“Thanks,” she said huskily. “He really likes you.”
“He’s a fine young man.”
“Bristling with hero worship,” she added demurely.
He chuckled. “He’ll learn that idols generally have feet of clay.”
“Not his,” she said without looking up. “His is the genuine article.”
He didn’t speak for a minute. He knew she was telling the truth. But he didn’t want her feel that way about him. She was overwhelmed with her first pleasurable experience of intimacy. She liked what he could make her feel. That was a result he was used to. His former wife had liked him in bed, too. But when she knew all about him, knew everything, she wasn’t able to bear having him touch her. It was going to be that way with Tippy, too. She was attracted to an illusion, not a flesh and blood man.
“I’m going to bed. Need anything else?” he asked.
She looked up. He was solemn. It would do no good to ask questions. She only smiled. “No. Thanks for the hot chocolate and cookies.”
“No problem. See you in the morning.” He hesitated. “If you need anything in the night…”
“I know, Mrs. Jewell is right down the hall, and there’s an intercom.” She pointed to it on the bedside table. “She told me before she went to bed.”
He nodded. He hesitated for a minute, as if there was something else he wanted to say but couldn’t think what it was. Then he started for the door.
But he hesitated when he had the knob under his hand. He didn’t look at her. “Thanks for waiting up,” he bit off. Before she could recover from the shock and answer him, the door had closed behind him.
WITHIN THE NEXT DAY, it was all over city hall, and the collective police and fire departments, that the chief was going to stand by his officers, no matter what. Over night, Cash went from an outsider trying to fit in, to family.
He was surprised by all the attention, because he was just doing what he considered to be his job. Nobody else was that cavalier about it. When people met on the street, the primary topic of conversation was Cash’s fierce defense of his colleagues.
Sandie told Tippy that whether Cash realized it or not, he’d just become a hero in the eyes of the town. Tippy smiled, feeling already part of a big family.