Heat (Tortured Heroes Book 2) Read online

  But the door opened behind me. Judge Pierce stepped to the side and stumbled around me. I spread my hands wide, making a show of not touching him.

  “Mitch!”

  Judge Pierce’s eyes darted from me to the man in the doorway and back again. I squeezed my eyes shut, clenched my jaw, and turned to face him.

  “Get him away from me,” Pierce gasped. “He’s out of control. I need to call my bailiff. I want him arrested for assault.”

  “Now, calm down, your Honor. That’s not necessary.”

  “Well, Marshal Huckman, you lost?” I said, but even I was a little shocked at how far I’d almost taken that with Pierce.

  Ray Huckman took two steps forward, put an arm around my shoulders, and slapped his palm against my chest. He was big. My size with broad shoulders that barely fit into his suit. And if it had been anybody but him, I would probably have driven a fist right into his nose.

  “Good to see you, Judge,” Huck said, shooting Judge Pierce a quick wink as he strong-armed me away from the sink and toward the bathroom door.

  “Get him out of here,” Judge Pierce said. The red dots on his cheeks spread to a full-blown flush down his neck and disappeared under his collar. “And you haven’t heard the end of this. Do you hear me? I’ll have your badge for this.”

  But Pierce seemed more concerned about putting distance between us. He dodged around Huck and went out the other door.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Ray?” I muttered as we walked past Nancy and out into the hall.

  “Keeping you from losing your badge, dipshit,” Ray said. He kept a smile plastered on his face as I jerked out of his arm and smashed my hands against the metal bar on the double doors. The gray-green sky had turned to brilliant blue. I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the sun.

  “How’d you know where to find me? Aren’t you a little out of your jurisdiction?” I asked as we bounded down the steps together. Ray Huckman and I went through the Police Academy together a dozen years ago. We’d served our rookie years together working the streets until I made detective and he got recruited by the U.S. Marshal service. Under any other circumstance, it would be good to see him. Right then though, I still wanted to stab some shit.

  “Ran into Dorfman down the block,” he said. “I just got done with a prisoner exchange. A couple of your homicide guys want to talk to somebody we had locked up at Milan. They’re interrogating him now so I thought I’d take a walk and see if you wanted lunch. Good thing I did.”

  “Don’t start with me. You have no fucking idea what went on in there.”

  “Oh yeah? Pierce is a cocksucker. That’s not news, Mitch. You willing to throw your career away over it? Jesus, I guess the rumors I’ve been hearing might not be too far off base?”

  “What rumors?” We crossed at the light on Jefferson and walked toward the front of the Northpointe Public Safety Building. A tall, square structure that took up the entire block with rows of darkened windows and maroon brick.

  “That you need a damn vacation, Mitch. That your fucking temper is getting out of control.”

  I froze in front of the doors to the main entrance and pounded the glass. “I’m fine. Feel free to tell whatever asshole you’ve been talking to to mind their own business.”

  Ray shook his head. He set his jaw to the side and looked toward the sky. He’d been giving me that “you’re full of shit” look since we were twenty-year-old rookies working traffic stops and parade duty. I couldn’t help that I missed it. Ray was one of the good ones.

  “Yeah,” he finally said. “I’ve missed you too, asshole. Now get me a cup of what passes for coffee around here and let’s catch up. I’ve got about an hour before I need to get my scumbag of the day back to Milan.”

  “Your life is Driving Miss Daisy. Must be nice.”

  “Fuck you,” Ray said, throwing me a middle finger.

  I led him through the lobby, giving a wave to the desk sergeant and heading up to my third-floor lab. I keyed us into the elevator. Ray was quiet riding up. I was glad for it. I needed those few minutes to get my blood pressure down to normal.

  When the elevator doors opened, Doreen, our civilian secretary, stood in front of them. Her eyes went up and a smile split her face when she saw Ray. Yeah. He gets that reaction a lot. He’s kind of a cross between The Rock and a California surfer. White blond hair and clear blue eyes girls always love. It earned him the nickname Officer Hunk from the female officers when we were cadets. He hated it. The rest of us ragged on him about it every chance we could.

  “Oh, Gates,” Doreen said. “I’m on my way to lunch but was hoping I’d catch you. I sent you a text.”

  “What?” I reached in my suit pocket. “I’ve been in court, Doreen. I’ve had it on silent.”

  “Right. There’s a woman waiting for you in your office.”

  “What?” Not what I fucking wanted to hear. I didn’t do intake. Doreen knew that. Civilian complainants needed to go to the desk sergeant downstairs. “Dor, I’m not in the mood. Please don’t tell me Wyatt or Palmieri dumped her on me.”

  “Oh no,” Doreen said as she pressed the down button on the elevator. “This one says she’s a friend.”

  “Mitch doesn’t have any women friends,” Ray said, unhelpfully.

  Doreen cleared her throat and made some lame excuse about needing to hurry. Great. I didn’t mind Ray, but I really just wanted a little while to cool off before I had to deal with work shit again.

  Ray and I walked down the hall. My office wasn’t much more than a cubicle next to my computer lab. As we walked around the corner, I saw legs for days in strappy black heels. My heart quickened. She sat with her back to me, her strawberry blonde locks shielding the side of her face.

  “Is that?” Ray had a hold of my arm. “Holy shit!” He moved around me. “Stella?”

  She stood up and turned. Stella. Beautiful. The same pale skin. Luminous gray eyes atop high cheekbones and a long, straight nose that always flared a little. A tiny dot of a mole above her full, pink lips.

  Blood shot straight to my dick and my heart stopped. Stella. I hadn’t seen her in almost ten years.

  Ray got to her first and pulled her into a hug that seemed to shock her. Why wouldn’t it? Seeing him here had to suck the air out of her lungs same as me. My heart thundered inside my chest and I straightened my back, trying not to show the pain it caused me to see her. Gut-twisting pain that made me want to push her away and pull her close. Pain that could only end in trouble for one of us. Both of us.

  “Hi, Mitch,” Stella said in a small, husky voice. “I’m sorry to just show up like this. It’s just. Can we talk? I need your help.”

  Once again, the smart thing to do would have been to walk away. But the minute Stella said my name, I knew it was far too late for that.

  Chapter Two

  Stella

  I almost got up and left. No, not left. Not just that. Fled. I almost fled. I hadn’t expected the sound of Mitch’s voice booming from down the hall to cut through me the way it did. Like someone had connected a defibrillator to my chest. The second his voice reached my ears, something shocked to life inside of me. Something dangerous. Something that had the power to tear away the shelter I’d spent years building around my heart. It was bad enough just being in this building.

  This was a mistake. I’d known it the moment I stepped off the elevators and had his secretary lead me to his little office. Just a tiny little space. Three cubicle walls and a desk. Even if she hadn’t told me where to wait, I would have known this was Mitch’s space. Organized clutter. Little notes everywhere with his neat block writing, the way they taught him at the Police Academy. A coffee mug tucked against the wall with “World’s Greatest Cop” scrawled across the side of it. Someone had drawn a picture of penis below that with a Sharpie and I smiled so wide it hurt.

  He had no framed pictures on the desk. I didn’t know if that made me happy or sad. I knew he was single. Though I’d left Northpointe years ago, I k
eep in touch with enough people who make it a point to tell me these things while I pretend disinterest. He had coloring-book pages tacked to a corkboard on the wall. Crude drawings made by the small, chubby hands of children. Messages scrawled in crayon: one said, “Thank you Detektive Gates for making me feel safe and keching bad guys.”

  Flashes of memory tore at my heart. I thought I could contain this. So many years had passed I hoped it wouldn’t hurt so much to be back here. No one recognized me. Thank God for that. My name didn’t mean anything to Doreen, his twenty-something secretary. The men and women from Mitch’s police class would be scattered by now. Some still on the streets. Some in command. Many in the Detective Bureau. Or washed out. Or … worse. My chest squeezed with pain and I shut my eyes tight. No. I couldn’t finish the thought. But yeah, coming back here was a mistake. Except I didn’t see that I had any other choice.

  When I turned, my breath left me. Seeing Mitch was enough of a shock, but when Ray Huckman came into view, I couldn’t breathe. Too much. Too fast. Another memory slammed into my mind’s eye. The two of them standing shoulder to shoulder with bright eyes and wide smiles, their black police hats pulled low on their foreheads. Their new, shiny badges pinned on their crisp blue uniform shirts. And Brian stood between them, slightly shorter than Mitch, looking up at him with that shit-eating grin he always got right after Mitch ragged on him about something. Young, eager. Northpointe’s newest, finest, ready to hit the streets after graduation day.

  I’m the one who took that picture. Getting the three of them to stand still long enough had been the trick. Brian’s mom had stood at my shoulder, clasping her hands together beneath her chin. Tears of pride rolled down her cheeks and after the shutter snapped, she’d gone up to Brian and given him a fat kiss right on his cheek before he could stop her. The next picture I took was of him alone trying to wipe off Mrs. Macavoy’s bright red lipstick while Ray doubled over with laughter just out of the frame.

  “Stella!” Ray came to me first. He was bigger than I remembered. Stronger too. He wrapped me into a warm hug and squeezed me tight, lifting me a few inches off the ground.

  “Huck!” My voice sounded small, far away. As Ray set me down I lifted my hands and cupped his face. “Good God, you got handsome. What happened?”

  He laughed and then cleared his throat. Mitch was still standing in the hallway. I forced myself to say the words I’d rehearsed in the car on the way over. Simple. To the point.

  “Hi, Mitch. I’m sorry to just show up like this. I promise I won’t keep you. It’s just. Can we talk? I need your help.” My words came out in a rush. Too abrupt. Too shaky. I wished I could scoop them back in and start over.

  “Hey,” Ray said; his eyes darted from me to Mitch then back again. “Yeah. Let me get out of your hair. I’m due downstairs in a few minutes anyway.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “I didn’t mean to chase you away.”

  Ray shook his head and put his palm up in surrender. “No. Really. I’m still on the clock. Gotta have a prisoner back in Milan in a little over an hour. Damn. Sorry I can’t stay longer. You just make sure this asshole takes care of whatever you need. If he gives you any trouble, call me.”

  Ray reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a business card. It bore the embossed seal of the US Marshal service and his name beneath it.

  “Impressive,” I said, fingering the letters. “I’d heard a rumor you moved over there. Good for you.”

  “Got me out of Northpointe, anyway,” Ray said. He gave Mitch a tight-lipped nod and kissed the top of my head. “Seriously, Stella. Good to see you, honey. We’ll catch up soon, okay? Promise?”

  I nodded and crossed my heart. Ray walked around me and slapped Mitch on the back. He stood against the wall and still hadn’t said anything to me. He just stared at Ray and kept his posture straight. I couldn’t read him. I never could. In the early days of knowing him, Brian had leaned in close and told me not to let Mitch’s hard glare rattle me. It’s just the way he was. Ray whistled as he made his way down the hall and left Mitch and me standing there alone.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” I finally said. “I’m sorry. Truly. I can go.”

  “Stella.” Mitch’s voice skittered over me, heating my blood. It brought back memories I’d tried to bury for the last ten years. God. Why in the world had I thought this was a good idea? It wasn’t. But the truth was, I had no other choice.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said, finally pushing himself off the wall. He came to me and put a hand on my upper arm. I wore a thin silk blouse and his flesh warmed mine through the fabric. He leaned down and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Sit down. Sorry about the mess. I really only write reports here. The magic happens in the forensics lab on the other side of the wall. Would you like a tour?”

  “What? Oh. Sure. Um … no. Mitch? Maybe some other time. Why don’t I just get straight to the point of my visit? I don’t want to keep you. I know you’re busy. Again, I’m really sorry for kind of barging in on you like this.”

  “Why did you?” He moved around me and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. Then he took his seat and cleared some papers from the top of the desk. “I mean, it’s fine. But why didn’t you call?”

  I sat down slowly and crossed my legs at the ankle. “Honestly? I was afraid you wouldn’t see me.”

  Mitch’s face fell. I studied it. Really studied it. Since the moment he walked down that hall, I’d tried to avoid looking at him too closely. When I knew him best, he’d still had a bit of the gawkiness of youth. They all did, he and Ray and Brian. Now, Mitch had aged into a strong man with hard lines creasing his blazing green eyes. He’d let his thick, wavy brown hair grow a little longer. I liked it. The crew cut they made him wear in the academy didn’t suit him. I resisted the urge to reach across the desk and smooth down the cowlick that turned at his temple. He reared back a little, almost as if he could sense my line of thought. I folded my hands in my lap.

  “Stella,” he said; in fact, he almost whispered it. “Of course I’ll always see you. You know that. All you’ve ever had to do was ask.”

  “The anniversary is coming,” I said. God. I hadn’t meant to get into this. It wasn’t the reason I came. “Did you know that?”

  Mitch swallowed hard. A muscle jumped in his strong, square jaw. He bit his cheek and looked toward the wall. I regretted saying it. But one of us had to. It’s not why I was here but neither of us could pretend that big elephant wasn’t right there in the room between us.

  “Ten years,” I said, the words coming hard. “It just kind of crept up on me. Are you going to be at the memorial?”

  Mitch kept staring at that point on the wall. “Are you?”

  I picked at a piece of lint on my skirt. I shouldn’t have worn this one. I should have worn the tan one. This one showed everything and the cottonwood trees outside the Public Safety Building were in full molt.

  “Brian’s father asked me to,” I said. “I don’t think I can say no.”

  Mitch raised a brow and nodded. Finally, he tore his gaze away from the wall and leveled it at me. His eyes flashed cold fire. “So that’s what you’re here about? Brian Sr. asked you to come talk to me?”

  “Mitch, I—well, actually, no.” Shit. I should have seen this coming as well. Brian Sr. had told me once how Mitch had stopped coming around after the funeral. It hurt him deeply. I knew the reason why and in those early months, I would have given anything to just fade away too. “He asked about you. Or rather he asked me if I still kept in contact with you. He told me you don’t come around anymore and that he misses you.” There. Whatever loyalty I still had to the Macavoys, surely I’d just served it. They couldn’t expect more of me.

  “Stella, I can’t help you. If you’ve come all this way to lay some guilt trip on me on Brian’s dad’s behalf, you can save it. I’ll be at the memorial. We all will. Our entire police class. The whole department. As far as the rest of it, that’s my own business. The Macavoys don’t need to
take me on as their special project.”

  My heart sank. This was going all wrong. “Shit.” I tried again. “No. Mitch. I swear. I’m only bringing Brian up because one of us had to, right? I know it’s not easy for you. It’s damn hard for me too, okay? I still have to live with the fact that the Macavoys and everyone else in this town are always going to look at me as Brian’s grieving widow. Except, we were never married. Everyone seems to forget that part.”

  “You still wear his ring on your finger,” Mitch said, his words spilling out like rapid fire. Almost an accusation. He’d noticed. Of course he had. Detective Gates was trained to notice things like that.

  My heart lurched. I turned the gold band on my right index finger with my thumb. I didn’t wear it on the left hand anymore, but yes, I still wore it. Just a simple gold band with a one-carat stone. A cubic zirconia. Our little secret. I’d refused to let Brian spend thousands of dollars he didn’t have on a piece of jewelry. We’d have time to save up for that later. Except, we never did. He’d died of a gunshot wound in the middle of the street after a domestic violence call went bad. He’d worn a vest, but they don’t cover everything. And I still wore his ring. Even after everything that happened, Brian would always be a part of me and this was my way of honoring that. And I bloody well didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

  “I’m sorry,” Mitch said. He leaned back in his chair and his face dropped. For the first time since he’d walked back into my life, that guarded mask left his expression. His eyes narrowed, filling with pain. “Jesus. I’m sorry, Stella. I know that’s none of my goddamn business. It’s been a colossally shitty day and I’m an ass for taking it out on you even slightly. I’ll call Brian Sr. Tomorrow. I swear. You don’t have to worry.”