Mistletoe and Murder

Chapter Ten

Jacob disliked hospitals at the best of times and even more so when he was being threatened with admission. The E.R. doctor wanted to observe him for at least twenty-four hours. Jacob just wanted to get the hell out of there. When the doctor left, he picked up his jacket, reclipped his badge and went in search of Romana.

A man dressed as Frosty the Snowman slumped past with his costume head tucked under one arm and a bandage over his right eye. “Who gives exploding peanut jars as Secret Santa gifts?”

Someone with a grudge or a sick sense of humor, Jacob supposed. But better exploding peanuts than a Chevy Blazer with a slashed brake line.

“I don’t have whiplash, Dr. McGee, and you’re holding up three fingers.” He heard Romana’s patient voice inside one of the treatment rooms. “I’m not phobic, I don’t feel dizzy, and you’re still holding up three fingers.”

A smile tugged at Jacob’s lips. Apparently, neither of them intended to spend the night here.

“Jacob, are you…” O’Keefe rushed toward him in a baggy coat, a striped pajama top and jeans. He grabbed his former partner’s arms and inspected him from head to toe. “All in one piece.” Relief spread across his face. Then fled. “Where’s Romana?”

Jacob nodded at the treatment room. “Giving McGee a hard time. She’s fine. He’ll badger her for another forty minutes, but she’ll convince him.”

“Give me the rundown.”

“Someone-Critch-cut my brake line, probably while we were at Fitz’s place. We were heading along March toward the river. I wanted to check out Barret’s furniture warehouse before checking in at the station. Brakes failed.”

O’Keefe shook his head. “I think you’re wrong about Barret. If anyone has Fitz, it’s Critch.” He tucked the pajama top into his jeans, squinted past Jacob’s shoulder. “Is there any coffee?”

Jacob motioned to his left. “Critch might have her, Mick, but the watch says something, and I want to know what it is.”

O’Keefe waved his badge at a harried-looking nurse and stuck his head around the corner. “Smells like coffee and diapers. Makes you want to move right in.” He picked up a tall pot, sniffed the contents and blew into two mugs. “Barret’s coming to the Christmas party Saturday night as the mayor’s special guest. His wife RSVP’d, so I’m thinking he’ll show. You can feel him out then.”

A young nurse walked past, paused and backtracked with a twirl. “Guess I deserve a pick-me-up, too.”

While she poured and chatted, Jacob relived the scene in his Blazer.

Every cop knew how to stop a runaway vehicle. Jacob had done it twice in his first rookie week, and countless times as a homicide detective. Unfortunately, he hadn’t done it on a street with a grade as steep as the one on March, a layer of ice under the tires and a brick wall looming in front of him.

Thankfully, Romana hadn’t panicked. She’d simply buckled up, shut up and braced.

Lounging against the wall, O’Keefe cleared his throat. Jacob returned to earth and swallowed a mouthful of the tepid coffee. “What?”

“She’s gone. You can zone back in.”

“I didn’t…”

“Yes, you did. Your mind goes into space, Jacob, whenever you’re not interested in a thing. My question to you is, how can you not be interested in a woman who looks like Madonna in her prime, isn’t married and is so obviously coming on to you? Did you see the cleavage she displayed for you?”

“Yeah, I saw it.”

O’Keefe dropped his gaze to the front of Jacob’s jeans. “So what, are you made of stone or just so damn besotted with Romana that your brain doesn’t register other females?”

“I’m not besotted.”

“In lust with, then. We had every available officer out searching for her tonight. Not because I requested it but because you told the captain to just do it and you’d explain why later.”

“What’s your point?”

A muscle twitched in O’Keefe’s jaw. “You’re in love with her, probably have been since before Belinda Critch died.”

Jacob’s smile had a fatalistic edge. “I didn’t even know her back then.”

“You knew her well enough. You observed from a safe distance, thought you were immune, then got the shock of your life when you realized you were gooney over her.” Grieved acceptance marked O’Keefe’s features. “The irony of it is, I think she feels the same way about you. Cool cop Jacob Knight, homicide detective with a stack of commendations as thick as my wrist. You got it all, Knight. The looks, the brains, the guts, the glory and now the girl. You must have been born under one frigging lucky star.”

“Are you done?” Jacob asked when his friend lapsed into silence.

O’Keefe expelled a weary breath. “Is there more left to say? Yes, I’m done, and while I stand by all of it, I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that. I know you’ve had a lot of valleys with those peaks. Deep ones. The suspicion surrounding Belinda Critch’s death, the memory thing, the threats.” A frown appeared. “The brake line… Damn. You were filling me in on the details before I went off half-cocked.”

Jacob knew he could walk away now, and O’Keefe would understand why. But they’d been partners for years, friends longer. And if he was honest, not much of what O’Keefe had said was untrue.

By way of a peace offering, Jacob topped their mugs. “Come into the waiting room, and I’ll tell you about a patch of ice the size of Lake Michigan, a rusted-out fence and just how much damage a brick wall can inflict on the back end of a truck.”

TIME TICKED ON. DARKNESS gave way to light. Romana felt as if she had a metronome embedded in her brain. No Fitz, no Critch, no way to contact James Barret.

Her parents arrived in Cincinnati unannounced early Friday morning. Her father insisted that his grandchildren should miss school and go tobogganing. Later, he’d treat them to dinner and the Festival of Lights at the Cincinnati Zoo.

He roped in Romana and her brother Noah to help. He would have added Fitz to the list if Romana hadn’t told him that the path lab was overrun, and Fitz couldn’t possibly get away from work.

Feeling every one of the bruises she’d incurred the evening before, she bumped down snowy hills, ate pizza and chicken wings and wandered through the spectacular Christmas light display with her family. By 8:00 p.m., rosy-cheeked and tired, the kids were back at their homes, and Romana’s parents were en route to Grandma Grey’s Kentucky ranch house.

“And that’s a thumbnail sketch of my entire day,” Romana said to Jacob, who’d knocked on her door fifteen short minutes after she’d collapsed on the sofa. “How did your daylight hours pan out, Detective?”

“I’ve had worse.” He looked around at her high ceiling, tall windows and wide-open floor plan. “You have urban written all over you.”

“My home’s urban, but I’m going to inherit a Kentucky horse ranch, and believe me when I tell you, I’ve mucked out more than a few stables in my life.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t mind watching that scene unfold.”

She wagged a finger. “No, no, you don’t watch at my grandmother’s ranch, you participate. Means you get dirty. She has six dogs, a million cats and the most beautiful thoroughbreds you can imagine. And if you think the Christmas light show at the zoo is a wow, you should see her ranch on Christmas Eve. Think North Pole with a twist. She dresses up as Mrs. Claus and invites the entire town of Evanwood to walk around and gape. All donations of food and money gratefully accepted and passed on to local charities. I’m playing the part of Snow Miser this year, and while I’m sure you have no idea who he is, visualize icicles and snow control, and you’re pretty much there.”

Standing at the living room window, Jacob scanned the city. “There’s still no word on Fitz.”

“I know.” She ran a hand along her arm, joined him at the glass. “I hate that I don’t know who has her. Critch makes sense, but I keep thinking about Belinda’s watch and seeing James Barret’s face.” Guilt crept in as she glanced at Jacob’s profile. “When I’m not seeing yours.”

He gave a brief laugh. “Not the best time for that, is it?”

“No, but then I’m not big on timing. Fitz says it’s one of my more promising flaws.” Unable to shut down her feelings, she went with the moment and walked her fingers up his arm. “I’m liking the shoulder holster, Detective Knight. It screams power and sex appeal.”

“You think guns are sexy?”

“When the right person wears them, yes.”

“I’m not a saint.”

She flicked at the ends of his long hair. “Good, because sainthood’s totally overrated. Even Santa Claus shunned Rudolph for having a red nose.”

“Then offered him the job of top reindeer.”

“Because he needed Rudolph’s nose to guide him through a winter storm.”

A gleam appeared in Jacob’s eyes. He slid a knuckle along her jawline. “Is this story going somewhere?”

“It made you smile.” She took a rumba step closer, hooked two fingers into his waistband. “Any story that can do that is worth the telling.”

“You have a warped mind, lady.”

“When you grow up with six brothers, you warp or go nuts.”

The gleam intensified as he ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “I see your eyes when I’m asleep. Sometimes they’re all I see. Other times,” he wrapped his long fingers around her nape, “I see a lot more of you.”

Tugging on the bottom of his T-shirt, she slid her hands over his skin. “That’s pressure on me. It’s not easy living up to people’s expectations. I should probably warn you, I’m not a good emotional risk.”

“Why not?”

Head tipped to the side, she regarded him at a deliberately seductive angle. “Too changeable. I have trouble sticking. On the flipside,” she eased in to bite his lower lip, “I don’t seem to have any trouble at all…”

The rest died in her throat as his mouth crushed onto hers and began to devour. Nothing else registered. It was as if a giant wave of lust crashed over her, drenching her with wet heat.

And color. Pure white fire with splashes of jeweled light. Or was that the city skyline? Whatever it was, wherever it came from, sensation after sensation tore through her.

God, did Jacob Knight know how to kiss. The taste of him drove Romana’s excitement level up until she was clutching his hair to keep him as close as possible. She pressed her body against his and simply let herself revel.

Should she be doing this here and now, though, with her cousin missing and her brain so crammed with thoughts that it might take her until next Christmas to sort them out?

When he raised his head, the room tilted slightly. Big yes, she decided, and swore she could see Fitz sending her a delighted thumbs-up. She marveled that her mouth felt numb and gave her upper lip an experimental touch with her tongue. “So that’s what a nuclear explosion feels like, huh?”

“Or a tidal wave.” He framed her face with his hands, looked into her eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Romana.”

“Probably not.” Her movement against his lower body drew a hiss of reaction. “But I sense a conflict in you, Jacob.” Her smile teased while her fingers roamed. “A big one.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Very clever, Professor Grey. I meant there are things I haven’t told you.”

The smile gave way to understanding as she brushed at his dark hair. “You don’t remember the night she died, do you?” “Only a part of it.” “Jacob, you didn’t kill her. Aside from the fact that you’re a cop and sworn to uphold the law, why would you have wanted her dead? It doesn’t make sense, and it doesn’t mesh with your character.”

“Not the character you know.” Romana sighed. “Did you love her?” His eyes slid past her to the window. “I don’t think I had any feelings for her. She wanted help with a problem. I’m a cop. She came to me.”

“So you see? We agree. You didn’t do it-as I’ve said from the start.” She nipped his lower lip, smiled just a little and set her hands on his shoulders.

Taut muscles, lean body, awake and aware. Troubled he might be, but he wanted her, and God knew she wanted him.

Still, timing mattered, and this wasn’t their moment. Tonight they needed something different, something active and purposeful.

“I have an idea.” “Should I be worried?” “I’m worried enough for the both of us, Jacob.” Her eyes narrowed. “Captain Harris has people looking for Fitz, right?” “As many as he can spare.” “Good, because we need a break.” “Okay, now I’m worried.” “That’s the idea.” Jumping up, she wrapped her legs around him. One final, long kiss, deep and dangerous, then she nuzzled his ear and whispered, “Grandma Grey swears a change is as good as rest for sharpening the mind.”

“And that means?”

“It means, Detective Knight, that you and I are going to climb into your new vehicle, point it north-and go shopping for Christmas trees.”

SURVEILLANCE WAS A DULL SPORT, but what had to be done had to be done. He’d been following Romana all day with little opportunity to strike. He had no particular desire to involve children in his revenge. Besides, Knight was with her now, and twofers were always more exhilarating.

Take the incident last night. Watching them careen down that hill, skid, spin and finally crash through a rusty fence into the meat factory wall had gotten him hard. Wonder what a shrink would say about that?

A sprig of mistletoe on the dash taunted him. Knight had used it as a prop in Belinda’s death. It seemed only fitting that Warren Critch should make his counterstatement in much the same way. One clear, life-ending statement. Then, hasta la vista, he’d be gone.

Inside his truck, he pulled the hat he wore down low on his forehead, tucked his hands under his arms and slumped deeper into his seat. He had an arsenal of weapons locked in the utility box behind him. When they left tonight, alone or together, he’d be right behind them, their very own ghost of Christmas past.

Feliz Navidad, Jacob and Romana.