Kansas City Cover-Up Page 19

  She held up her badge and waved him back, angling her head toward the families and staff, hoping he understood her silent request to start moving people away from the doors and the potential confrontation.

  And then she saw the bulge in the back of the green scrubs. March’s accomplice was no orderly. He was carrying a gun.

  “Gabe?” She glanced up, sharing her concern with the man who never seemed to miss a detail.

  He saw it, too. He squeezed her arm and started moving toward a seating area where two children were putting together a puzzle. “I’ll get as many people out of here as I can.”

  There was a matter of yards between her and the two escapees when a woman screamed. She’d seen Olivia’s gun.

  Stephen and the orderly both glanced over their shoulders. And then they were running.

  “Ah, hell.” Olivia planted her feet and raised her weapon and Gabe whisked the hysterical woman out of harm’s way. “KCPD! Stephen March! You with the wheelchair! I order you to stop.”

  Stephen shoved the blankets off his chair and tried to rise, but the covers tangled with the spokes of the wheel and the chair tipped over, throwing him to the floor. The man with the gun leaped over him, muttering something like, “You’re on your own.”

  But the guard had locked the doors and when the orderly slammed into them, he knew he was trapped.

  Olivia advanced. “Stop where you are. Drop your weapon.”

  The woman shrieked again when the man pulled his gun and spun around. “Get back!” he yelled, waving the gun back and forth before settling on her as the biggest threat in the room. “You get back!”

  “Not gonna happen.” Olivia froze, leveled her gun at the middle of his chest. “Everybody get down!”

  “Olivia!” Gabe’s warning shout was the last thing she heard as she fingered the trigger.

  The next few seconds passed by in a slow-motion blur.

  Stephen March crawled out of the wreckage and lurched to his feet. Olivia saw the gunman’s finger squeeze the trigger. An elderly woman rose from her chair, blocking Olivia’s line of sight.

  “Get down!” she warned, averting her weapon and praying the gunman was a lousy shot.

  There were two loud bangs from off to her left. The glass behind the perp shattered and the gunman went down.

  Olivia glanced over and saw Jim Parker lowering his steaming weapon. “Told you I had your back, partner.” He jogged past her and knelt beside the assailant, picking up his gun and checking the man’s neck for a pulse. He shook his head as she joined him. “This one’s done.” He was already waving her off as she backed toward the path Stephen March had taken. “Yours is getting away. Go.”

  “Thanks. Partner.”

  The world reverted to real time as she took off after March. Even in his unsteady condition, that tweaker could fly. He knocked a man in a suit and the nurse beside him out of his way and zigzagged toward the gift shop. Alert to the danger now, the other patrons and staff dodged out of Olivia’s path. He’d reached the long hallway now, stretching the distance between them. Her lungs were burning and she pressed harder. Her shoulder ached and...

  A metal-rimmed chair flew across the carpet, knocking the young man off his feet.

  Olivia caught a glimpse of coal-black hair as she ran past and grinned.

  The man who’d escaped from lockup at the hospital—the man who’d gotten away with murder for six years, who’d tarnished her father’s career, who’d tried to kill her more than once—moaned as he tried to push himself to his feet.

  But Stephen March didn’t take one more step. Olivia holstered her gun, put her elbow to the back of his neck and took him right back down to the ground. He groaned and complained and muttered a nervous stream of words that didn’t always make sense. Olivia’s voice was breathless with exertion, but perfectly clear as she pulled the handcuffs off her belt. “Stephen March, you are under arrest for the murder of Danielle Reese.”

  “What? I swear I didn’t mean... Ah, hell. What about Rosemary? My sister needs me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He writhed on the floor beneath her knee, fidgeting with his fingers almost as soon as she pulled his hands together behind his back. He repeated the same words over and over, almost crying in his manic state. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  She felt the tall shadow coming up beside her, and recognized the familiar starchy scent as Gabe knelt beside her. “You just couldn’t stay out of the way, could you?” she chided. “You didn’t think I was going to run him down this time?”

  “I had no doubt you were going to catch him, but this idiot doesn’t get to hurt the woman I love.”

  A few of those words tried to reach her heart, but Olivia had to finish the job first. “Is everybody in the lobby safe?”

  “Yes. Scared, but fine.” He reached out beside her, pinning March’s flailing legs. “You got him yet?”

  “I don’t know who that guy was.” March’s rambling never ceased. “He said he had to help me. I had to kill that girl. I had to save my sister. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want—”

  Olivia could seriously use five minutes of peace and quiet right now. She slapped the first cuff on his wrist. “You have the right to remain silent.”

  Gabe added, “I recommend using that right.”

  “Anything you say...” Olivia paused, seeing her father’s uneven gait as he walked up on the scene, flanked by Max Krolikowski, Trent Dixon and Jim Parker. She looked up and smiled at her friends, her partner and her father. All men she could depend on, men who’d shown her time and again that they believed in her skills, that they trusted her, that she could trust them. A feeling of warmth rose up inside her, a feeling a belonging, a certainty that the damage Marcus Brower had done to her was finally in the past and that she would never have to second-guess these relationships again.

  She smiled her thanks to each of them, but paused when she met Thomas Watson’s moss-green eyes. She held up the loose end of the handcuffs. “Dad. This is your collar. Go ahead and close your last case.”

  “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” He squatted down on the other side of Stephen March and closed the cuff around the other wrist. Then the two of them helped March to his feet and finished Mirandizing him. “Your mother would be, too.”

  “We’ll take him.” Trent nodded to Olivia and her father and pulled Stephen March between him and Max. They turned with Jim and walked down the hallway to return their prisoner to lockup.

  A worrisome pang tainted the satisfied feeling of success that had made everything right in her world for a few moments. She tipped her face up to Gabe. This case had brought them together. But the hunt for the truth was over. He had his answers. She’d solved the case and captured his fiancée’s killer. He could finally lay his guilt to rest. What happened now? “Thank you.”

  His deep, hushed voice resonated in her ears. “This never would have happened without you.”

  The next moment was filled with awkward silence.

  Until her father’s gruff voice interrupted. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, you two—get in an empty room and say what you need to say.”

  Gabe didn’t argue. He grabbed Olivia by the hand and pulled her into a vacant office, shutting the door behind them.

  “Gabe, I—”

  His mouth stopped up her words with a kiss. His hands came up to frame her face as he drove her back against the wall and staked a claim she was willing to answer. “Are you hurt?” He kissed her again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing you in the line of fire like that.” She caught his lips and assured him she was in one piece. “I know you’re good at what you do. But a little part of me just wants to—”

  Olivia kissed him soundly, tangling her fingers in his thick hair, holding him close for a moment before pushing him away to latch on to the l
apels of his jacket and rest her hands against his chest. “Did you mean what you said back there? That you love me? We’ve only known each other a few days. It hasn’t exactly been an ideal courtship.”

  A smile spread across his mouth, softening the chiseled angles of his face and lighting a spark in his handsome blue eyes. “If it’s the right person, it doesn’t take forever to fall in love.”

  She answered with a smile that reached deep into her heart. “You are a writer, aren’t you? That’s a good line.”

  “I’m a reporter. I tell the truth.” He brushed her bangs off her forehead and gently touched his thumb to the skin beside her scraped cheek. “I don’t want every week to be like this one—I don’t know how many times my heart can handle seeing you get hurt. But being together suits us, don’t you think? A couple of workaholics with plenty of emotional baggage. I think we have to dive in to happiness when it finds us.”

  Olivia nodded. “We both know how rare and fleeting it can be.” She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against the solid strength of his. “What about my family? I know they want me to be happy, but getting involved with the man who slammed the department in his newspaper? You’re going to take some getting used to.”

  Gabe’s arms settled around her waist. “I don’t know. I think your dad and I can agree on one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That you are the most special woman in the world—and all we want is for you to be happy and safe.”

  “You make me happy. And I keep myself safe.”

  “We’ll work on that.”

  She stretched up on tiptoe and welcomed his kiss. But there was one last ghost between them. “What about you, Gabe? Have you really let Dani go? Is there a place for me in your heart?”

  “She’ll always be a part of me. But I’ve said goodbye. Thanks to you, I’ve finally done right by her—her story will be told and her killer will be in jail.” Those piercing blue eyes looked down into hers and she knew his words were the truth. “She took on the world with such gusto that I’d be doing her a disservice if I didn’t look to the future and live my life to the fullest. I want you in it. If you need time, if you need me to make peace with your dad, if you need me to not be so stubborn—”

  “That’s not going to happen.” When she laughed, he joined her.

  But when he stopped, he pulled her arms from his neck and captured her hands against the steady beat of his heart. “Please give us a chance.”

  “Promise you’ll always be honest with me?”

  “Always. Promise not to whack me over the head when I go all caveman on you?”

  “Um...” She had to be honest. There was that whole independent spirit and temper of hers to consider. “I can promise to love you. With everything in me.”

  “I’ll take that promise.” He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss that made her believe his word, a kiss that made her wish there was a lock on this door and an endless amount of time to explore all the wonderful ways this man’s hands and mouth could make her go weak in the knees.

  But that sentimental romancey stuff wasn’t who they were. Knowing they would revisit this precious connection when the timing was right, maybe at his condo later that night, Olivia pulled away with a sigh of regret. “I have reports to fill out.”

  “I have a story to write.”

  “We’d better go.”

  With her hand held firmly in his, Gabe led her out the door. When they reached the end of the hallway, her father rose from the chair where he’d been sitting and blocked their path.

  For one moment, a nervous breath locked up Olivia’s chest.

  Thomas Watson’s stern paternal eyes looked straight at Gabe, who stood tall beside her. “If you’re going to be spending time with my daughter, I’d like to get to know you better, Mr. Knight. We have a family dinner every Sunday afternoon. My dad grills burgers and brats. We watch baseball and root for the Royals when they’re playing. It’s football and the Chiefs in the fall.”

  Gabe didn’t bat an eye. “I like a good ball game and a burger.”

  “Good. You can bring the beer.” Olivia released the breath she’d been holding and hugged her father when he leaned in to kiss her cheek and whisper, “Don’t let this one break your heart.”

  “He won’t, Dad. I trust him.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Orange was a lousy color on any man. But with Stephen March’s thinning hair and pale brown eyes, he looked especially pitiful. Of course, that helplessly doomed look might be more about the handcuffs and leg irons Stephen wore as he sat in the long Fourth Precinct hallway, awaiting transport to the county jail along with other prisoners due for arraignment tomorrow.

  Stephen fidgeted in the plastic chair, clawing at his own hands as the host, ignoring the curious glances and outright stares of the others there, sat beside him.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Stephen.”

  “Shut up.” Really? This weak-willed addict who’d been saved from certain death on the street, who’d been so desperate to change his fate, thought copping an attitude with the one person who’d helped him the most was the smart way to go? Stephen rocked back and forth in his chair, refusing the guidance and friendship that had been offered so willingly for so long. “You should have let me kill her. Instead, she arrested me.”

  “Let you?” The host laughed at the absurdity, but spoke in a hushed whisper. “You barely accomplished the task when I sent you to kill Danielle Reese.”

  “You should have let me kill that detective, and stopped her from poking around in my business. Then all this would have gone away.” Stephen needed a fix so badly that his scratching fingers were drawing blood. “Now I’m going to prison and there’s nobody to look after my sister.”

  Fear had always been an easy motivator—fear of not having any money, not having a home, not being able to afford a dime bag to keep his teeth from rattling out of his head—fear that the one person he’d always been able to count on would be taken from him. But that fear had given way to panic and desperation, two volatile emotions that were much harder to reason with and control.

  “That’s right, Stephen. You made a mistake, and now you’re going to have to pay for it. Perhaps if you had listened to me, if you’d trusted my wisdom and experience, you’d still be a free man. I told you it was a perfect plan. But you strayed from it. I sent my friend to help you escape from the hospital, but once again, you wouldn’t do as you were told. You hesitated when he told you to come with him. Now my friend is dead and look where you are.” A glance up and down the hallway at the thieves, gangbangers and molesters set to make the same trip were warning enough. “I can make your stay in prison easier for you if you let me.”

  The chains rattled as Stephen shook his head and scooted to the far side of his chair. “It’s not my fault your friend died. I’m not your puppet, anymore. You’re not going to talk me into anything else.”

  True, they would no longer have easy access to each other. And their future meetings would be infrequent if they happened at all. But even through prison bars, there were ways to reach out to Stephen—to use him again if needed, or just to keep an eye on him to ensure his continued cooperation.

  “I’m glad we could have this one last talk, then. Good luck. And remember, one word about our agreement, one mention of my name...just think how easy it will be to get to your sister with you stuck on the inside.”

  “Leave Rosemary alone.” Stephen’s wide, fearful eyes induced a rush of satisfaction. The rebellion had been brief.

  And if, for some reason, Stephen March should grow a backbone and reveal anything more than his role in murdering Danielle Reese, there would be numerous ways, with enough money and the right persuasion, to reach out and silence him.

  Permanently.

  * * *
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  GABE LOOKED UP from his computer as Olivia walked into his office with two cups of coffee. He smiled. Her eyes were a pale gray-green, meaning she was content. No temper brewing. No overwhelming stress that required a private time-out. Or a shared time-out in a hot, steamy shower that started with a relaxing massage and ended up in the bed with damp sheets and her dozing on his chest.

  Now he was really smiling. “So how’s my favorite cop?”

  She set the coffee on his desk and circled behind his chair. “You promised me lunch. And I believe you have proved yourself to be a man of your word.”

  Olivia hugged her arms around his shoulders and Gabe turned his head to kiss her.

  “So what are you working on?” she asked.

  “Making amends.” He reached up to squeeze her hand. “I finished my front-page article for the morning paper. What do you think of the headline, Detective?”

  PRAISE FOR KCPD

  6 YO MURDER SOLVED/KILLER BEHIND BARS

  * * * * *

  The mystery continues in the next

  exciting installment of

  THE PRECINCT: COLD CASE miniseries

  by USA TODAY bestselling author Julie Miller.

  Coming in August 2015.

  Look for it wherever Harlequin Intrigue books

  and ebooks are sold!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from SWAT SECRET ADMIRER by Elizabeth Heiter.

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