Dancing with Detective Danger (14 page)

“You have to let go and let me do my job.”

Ben shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe so. But I don’t have to like it. Truce?” he offered, even though he wanted so much more.

Sterling closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as he waited. Was he really asking so much?

Finally, she breathed out and opened those piercingly lovely eyes. “Truce.”

“Now, how about that burger?”

“You buy?”

She gave him a smile and Ben felt the air begin to move again. “I’m buying.”

• • •

Sitting comfortably across the table from him in the subdued lighting of Happy’s Diner, Ben gazed at her, a twinkle shining in his eyes.

“These fries are great,” he said.

Sterling nodded, her mouth full of hamburger, pickle, and lettuce. Her stomach took to the food as fast as she could put it into her mouth. Ben had been right — she’d skipped lunch and dinner. A breakfast of toast and raspberry jam had left her famished long ago.

It felt good to see the shine in Ben’s eyes. Since the day she ran into him at the Witt murder scene, he’d kept his eyes veiled, keeping her out. Others might not ever notice, but she recognized it. Even when they’d been intimate, the veil had remained. It was there for a reason, she knew. She’d put it there.

“So, catch me up. What’s been happening in your life during the last two years? Have you been happy?”

Sterling nearly choked.
Can’t we just stick to talking about the fries?
“Such a serious question.” She eyed him over a sip from her decaf coffee. He was waiting. “You know everything. After I left the department, Lacey and I opened the agency. Work has been steady, we’ve been doing okay.”

“Do you enjoy your work?”

Why couldn’t Ben just stop aiming those eyes at her? Sterling couldn’t hide from them. “I find it satisfying, yes. And it’s been good for Lacey since Nicholas’s death.”

“Are you happy?” he persisted.

Dropping her glance to the pile of ketchup on her plate, Sterling measured her words. “Happiness isn’t something I really think about.”

“I see.”

“Can I refill your coffee?” the waitress asked, and Sterling nodded. Ben shifted his gaze to the young woman and held out his cup.

Taking another bite from her hamburger, Sterling’s mouth went dry and she could hardly taste the food that had hit the spot just moments before.

The waitress gone, Sterling swallowed hard. “What does ‘I see’ mean?”

Ben leaned close. “You sold out.”

“Can’t we just have a nice dinner without you analyzing what’s wrong with me? Let’s talk about something like the weather,” she said, shifting in her seat. Her napkin fell and when she bent to pick it up, someone at the checkout caught her attention. “That’s odd.”

“What?” Ben turned to see the checkout.

“Don’t turn around,” Sterling ordered. “Something’s not right.”

“What do you mean?”

“The woman at the cash register is putting money from the cash drawer into what looks like a manila envelope, and the guy standing there seems, um, twitchy.”

“Twitchy, as in maybe he’s sticking up the place?” Alertness flashed in Ben’s eyes, belying his calm appearance.

Ben exchanged a look with her, and Sterling knew what he had in mind.

Slowly, he eased out of the booth and sauntered the few feet to the checkout, while she sat poised, her stomach tight.

“Excuse me,” she heard Ben say. “Is that a gun you’re holding inside your pocket?”

Startled, the man took a step back. “Get back, I don’t want to use this,” he threatened, pulling out a revolver. “Now hurry up with the money!”

Sterling’s attention was locked on the scene unfolding in front of her. Ben continued to walk toward the gunman, and she didn’t dare aggravate the situation by stepping in too soon.
But God, the man has a gun!

“I know you don’t want any trouble.” Ben’s voice was smooth and commanding. “But the minute you came in here, you invited trouble. Now put down the gun.”

“I told you to get back!” The man shifted his feet and shook the gun toward Ben. “Who do you think you are, Superman?”

“No, not Superman, Detective Kirby, smucko!”

With the mighty power and deftness of a mountain lion, Ben grabbed the nose of the revolver at the same time he kicked the man’s feet out from under him. The man slammed to the floor with a loud groan, and the force of the fall sent the gun flying across the polished linoleum floor.

As startled screams filled the restaurant, Sterling jumped for the revolver, drew it up, and aimed the barrel down at the man sprawled on the floor. “Freeze, scumbag.”

Ben cuffed him and hauled him to his feet, while directing the cashier to call the police department.

“You sure picked the wrong day to rob this place, fool,” Ben said, shoving the man into a chair. “Now sit still. I don’t like having my meal interrupted. I might not hit you if you don’t move a muscle.”

“Detective, please, allow me to give you dinner on the house for you and your lady friend,” offered the restaurant manager. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“That sounds like thanks enough, sir.” Ben winked cheerily at Sterling.

Her heart melted. As clichéd as it was, Ben’s strength and easy assuredness did something for her. It made her feel safe. Sure, she could take care of herself, but Ben made it so she didn’t always have to. It was a luxury she’d seldom been unable to relax into since her father’s death.

“What do you say, Sterling, feel like finishing our coffee?”

With the would-be robber safely stuffed inside a patrol car and on his way to be booked at the station, Sterling again gazed at Ben across the table, her senses exhilarated to match his.

“Nice job, Sterling. I knew you and I were on the same wave length.”

He sent shivers running down her back with the sultry look steaming in his eyes. “All that really made your pulse rev, didn’t it?”

A little half-smirk lifted the corners of his lips. “Yeah. It always gives me a buzz to help out innocent people. Maybe that guy will be kept off the streets for a while, so who knows how many people we helped. And you liked it, too,” he said, reaching for her hand.

Ben’s touch sent her heart skipping, but Sterling steadied herself. “Yes, I liked putting him away without anyone getting hurt.”

“There’s more, admit it.” Ben turned her hand over and peered at it, tracing the lines in her palm. “You like the risk.”

“I admit I take to the challenge, but the risk, no. I do not need that adrenaline push like you do. I’m perfectly happy with my work. As dull as you think it must be, I help people, too.” Her breath dragging through the pounding of her heart, Sterling pulled her hand away and tucked it under the table. “We’ve been all through this, Ben.”

His eyes met hers, heat spilling out of them. “I just want you to be happy, and I think you sold out on yourself. Living used to be a thrill for us. We challenged it. Now you’ve tried to wall up in some kind of a cocoon where you feel a degree of control over your life. You don’t have to deal with complicated things like feelings.” Ben lifted his coffee cup to his lips, never taking his eyes off her.

“Look, life is full of trade-offs.” Sterling squirmed in her seat. “You can’t tell me you haven’t made any. You’ve made some changes. You traded undercover work for investigations.”

Ben leaned back in his chair, contemplating. “Some trade-offs are prudent, but some are just nuts.”

“You make it sound so simple. Sometimes the choice is merely the lesser of two evils.” She knew exactly what he was talking about, and it bothered her. A lot.

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize you considered me evil.”

“You? Never.” Sterling picked at the remains of her dinner, avoiding his eyes. Now it was clear to her why they came at each other with fists — it made a safe boundary. Allowing emotional intimacy was acutely painful. “You are a self-indulgent, wild-hearted pest.”

Ben let loose an indiscernible scoff. “Please, don’t mince words. Tell me how you really feel.”

Without raising her gaze, she continued, her hands fisted on the table. “And you’re the most interesting, exciting, and gentle man I’ve ever known.” Finally, she met his look.

Ben lifted an eyebrow in surprise, but she went on.

“But I can’t be with you. It would be more than I could stand to get accustomed to spending all of my days and nights with you and then have to face that day.”

Leaning in, he put his hand on hers. “What day, Sterling?”

His voice sounded so gentle and warm — how could she make him understand? “The day I get the call informing me of your death,” she finished, nearly leaping from her chair. She couldn’t stand the feelings threatening to tear her apart. “I have to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“I’ll take you, wait,” he called.

“I’ll take the bus.”

• • •

She’d lied. Not about riding the bus. But when it pulled to her stop, Sterling stepped off and headed in the other direction. The last place she wanted to be was where Ben might find her.

At one
A.M.
, the downtown Laurelwood nightspots were alive with lights and sounds. Chatter from the crowd enjoying the outdoor terrace at Johnny’s filled the air. Bramole and Good Time’s brimmed with friendly exchanges.

Not that it mattered.
People can party or not, it makes no difference to me.
Sterling drew the cocoon tightly about herself.

The lights and sounds of downtown faded behind her as she paced off the blocks.

Suddenly aware she’d wandered mindlessly quite far from the downtown, Sterling glanced around the dimly lit street. A figure cloaked in the shadows behind her stopped and looked into a parked car, then turned off down an alley bordered by an abandoned building.

Feeling vulnerable with the crowds blocks away, a shudder slithered down her spine and the same creepy feeling she’d felt at the condo set off warnings in her gut.

Nonchalantly, she stepped around a building into another alley and hugged the wall. Pressed against the cool concrete blocks, Sterling’s heartbeat pounded loudly inside her head as she waited. Her ears tuned to approaching footsteps, she still waited. Was someone following her?

Nothing but the sound of dripping water from a nearby storm sewer answered her question. Drawing a deep breath, she let it out and cautiously stepped back to the main street. Except for a passing car, the street stood empty.
That’s what I get for listening to Ben and all his talk about how ruthless the perp may be. Now I’m paranoid. I’ll never accomplish anything if I don’t get a grip.

Turning back toward home, Sterling picked up her pace. The eeriness still clung to her, prickling her skin. The downtown offered small comfort to the fear twisting her insides. It wasn’t logical, but it still felt very real. Whatever this thing, this feeling, was, it seemed to be alerting her senses to danger.

Sterling stopped in front of a store window display, but the contents were a blur as she focused on the glass. Her heart skipped a beat. The window’s reflection told her what she didn’t want to know. A figure had slipped into a darkened doorway across the street and stood watching her from the shadows.

Her thoughts raced as she stood frozen to the concrete. She couldn’t tell if the watcher was a man or woman.
Why would someone be following me?
Sterling’s police training told her to stay in public. Her private investigator instincts prompted her to challenge the watcher, bring him or her out into the open to expose an identity.

In a flash, the decision was stolen from her as the figure stepped from the shadow and swiftly pulled a handgun from his coat, aiming it at her.

Sterling flung herself to the pavement, instinctively covering her head. From above, splintered glass rained around her.

Sterling shook off pieces of glass and rose to her feet, taking only a split second to glance around for witnesses. The evening sounds of the downtown drifted from a distance as she stood alone in the muted glow of a nearby streetlight.

Already the figure from the shadows had a sizable lead, Sterling thought as she took off in a sprint in the direction she’d last seen the gunman. Paramount in her mind was finding the person who’d fired the gun at her.

Her senses tuned to any sign of the perp, Sterling heard the splash of a footstep landing in a puddle and turned down an alley in time to see the dark figure scrambling into a car.

“Stop!” she demanded. “Who are you? Why were you shooting at me?”

The bright beams of the car headlights aimed at her, but Sterling stood her ground and shielded her eyes. She had to see the shooter’s face. “Stop!” she cried.

Forced to jump out of the path of the careening car, Sterling chased after it for one block and then another, all the while wondering what the hell was going on. He could have taken another shot. He could have tried to run her down. Instead, he’d run away.

Desperately trying to get a license plate number, Sterling felt her legs giving out
. For the second time today, I’ve missed a key figure in solving the case. The perp was right there, steps away from me, and I missed him. How could I have been so blind?

But Sterling knew the answer to her question. With the sound of her feet slamming against the city streets, she knew her slip was the payoff for letting Ben take her to places inside where pain engulfed her. In those throbbing places, she had no instincts, no defenses. There was no room for anything but mind-numbing loss and abandonment.

Breathless, Sterling stopped under a streetlight and leaned, tired and drained, against the pole. She was forced to accept that she had no witnesses and no clues. She’d lost the best lead yet to the Witt murder. In the darkness, the figure had slipped away as quickly as he had appeared.

• • •

Lacey pulled the car into the drop-off zone at Laurelwood Elementary School, her stomach queasy. All the children running up to the main door seemed a little too rambunctious for her liking, considering Tyler’s condition. Only a day out of the hospital, her son still seemed so fragile and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and take him back to the safety of her home. Instead, she planted a kiss on his forehead as he struggled to gather up his book bag.