Authors: Virna Depaul
Tags: #General, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance
“Apologize,” he gritted.
“Really,” Mattie said. “It’s okay.”
Just get him out of here
, she thought.
What are you waiting for?
Both men ignored her.
“
Now
, Dusty. Or I can guarantee your trip back to jail isn’t going to be as pleasant as the one that got you here.” By the sound of Dominic’s voice, he meant every word he said. The inmate wasn’t willing to take his chances.
“I’m sorry,” Dusty muttered.
“Ma’am. Call her ma’am.”
The inmate swallowed audibly. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Mattie!”
Mattie glanced behind her. Brenda paused in the doorway as if she was too scared to come closer. The brightness of her neon-purple top and frosted pink lipstick seemed almost absurd given the situation.
Dominic propelled Dusty into the holding room, then reached for the door. “I need to secure these prisoners, but I’m calling backup. Brenda, please stay with Mattie.” He looked back at her. “I’ll be back in a second to speak with you and take care of those scratches.”
“But I don’t need—”
“It’s standard procedure.” He moved to close the door, then hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She stared at him, knowing something about him had changed but not sure what. “I’m okay.”
Slowly, she got to her feet and backed up several steps toward Brenda.
With one last lingering look, Dominic shut the door. But not before she registered what was different. Before, he’d always looked calm. Controlled. The annoyance he’d shown before Dusty’s appearance had been unusual enough. But just now… Lord, just now he’d looked primitive. Charged. Turned on. Not sexually, but by adrenaline.
It was a look she’d seen before. Ten years ago, whenever he’d talked about joining the police academy and working the streets, fighting crime like some comic-book superhero.
It was a look that made Mattie’s stomach clench with both desire and dread.
Chapter 5
P
icturing Mattie’s stunned, pale face and the abrasions on her arm left his heart beating like a jackhammer. Dom shoved Dusty Monroe into a metal chair bolted to the floor of the holding room and shackled him to it. He then whirled on Pete, who was breathing heavily and sweating. Another deputy, who’d obviously responded to Pete’s call for backup, nodded at Dom as he dragged the other inmate out of the room and slammed the door to the transport bay.
“What the—” Closing his eyes, Dom sucked in a deep breath and reminded himself they weren’t alone. With a quick glance at Dusty, who averted his gaze, Dom motioned for Pete to join him in the corner of the room.
“What happened?”
The wash of emotions over Pete’s face was unmistakable. First, he looked stunned. Then confused. Then belligerent. The other man, shorter than Dom by six inches but heavier by at least fifty pounds, mentally pulled up his pants while sticking out his chest. “Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot, Jeffries. I’ve been securing this courthouse for over five years now. I don’t need some burned-out blue boy coming in here and copping an attitude with me.”
Narrowing his eyes, Dom didn’t bother sticking his chest out. Lowering his head, he got in Pete’s face. “You lost control of a prisoner who broke into my courtroom and accosted a woman. I’m not going to ask you again. What happened?”
Pete swallowed, then seemed to deflate before Dom’s eyes. “The other one said he had to use the bathroom,” he grumbled.
Dom felt his brows pop into his hairline. “They were shackled together, Pete. Why didn’t you wait for me before you unhooked their waist belts? That’s procedure.”
Pete’s response was an almost juvenile shrug. “They were low-level security. We were already running late and Johnson’s case was first on the calendar. He hadn’t gotten to talk to his attorney yet. I figured it would speed things up if I unhooked them myself.”
Or maybe it would get him brownie points with the wealthy man and his powerful attorney? When Dom remained silent, his disgust obvious, Pete spat, “I know, I know. It was stupid. But Johnson’s attorney’s a big shot and I figured he’d file a complaint or something. How was I supposed to know that one would run?” He shot a glare at Dusty.
“Did Johnson suggest you unhook him?”
The way Pete pressed his lips together told Dom all he needed to know.
“It was probably a setup from the beginning,” Dom gritted. “They might have even delayed things at the jail themselves. Did you sweep the holding room before you brought them in? Do you know—”
“Look,” Pete interrupted. “I don’t answer to you,
Detective
. I need to get this prisoner back to the jail and get some paperwork filled out.”
Staring at the man who’d been more than civil to him in the past, Dom took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to interview Dusty, but I need to check on the woman he attacked first. Watch him. When I get back, I’ll call the jail when he’s ready to be transported.”
Shaking his head, Pete sputtered. “He’s not going forward with the calendar, so he’s going back.”
Knowing he’d perfected it, Dom let a slow, menacing smile spread across his face. “Don’t test me, Pete. He’s staying so I can talk to him. You got a problem with that, you can take it up with your supervisor. Seems to me, though, that you have other things to worry about.”
They stared at each other, neither one of them blinking. As Dom watched, Pete’s face flushed a deep red, and the vein in his temple started to throb. “Fine.”
Dom held his gaze for a few seconds longer, then turned to Dusty. “Try something again and you’ll regret it, we clear?” Although the inmate didn’t speak, Dom saw his agreement in his eyes. With a muttered curse, he called for backup, not caring how that would look to Pete. When another deputy arrived, Dom snapped, “Keep this inmate cuffed and contained until I get back.”
Then Dom went in search of Mattie.
It didn’t take him long to find her. She was in the staff break room, facing the sink with the water running, her back to him. He took a few seconds to regain his composure, but when he noticed her trembling, he immediately wanted to go back and pound Dusty into the ground. Instead, he stepped forward with a soft, “Let me take a look at your arm.”
Gasping, she whirled around, her forearm dripping. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. When she spoke, her teeth were chattering, “I’m fine. I—I told you, I don’t need—”
Moving slow so he wouldn’t scare her even more, he reached around her to turn off the water. He gently lifted her arm to inspect it and asked, “Why are you in here alone?” to distract her.
“I told them I was fine and to stop hovering. Court should be starting soon.”
“Hmm.” Gently, he smoothed his fingers over the red welts on her arm, noting that one mark had drawn blood and several bruises were also starting to form. She was right. She seemed fine, but Dusty was a druggie and a transient. Who knew what he was carrying.
Barring that, she’d been lucky. Inmates manufactured shanks all the time. If Dusty had managed to slip one in with him—
“Where’s the inmate?” she asked even as she pulled away.
Dom clenched his jaw and barely resisted the urge to grab for her. He forced himself to take several steps back. “He’s in the holding cell. Don’t worry, I have another guard watching him, one who isn’t a damn fool this time.”
She nodded. Looked over his shoulder. “Good. That’s…good.”
When he didn’t speak or move away, she gestured to the door. “Well, I need to get the—”
Unable to help himself, he raised his hand and hooked a strand of her hair that had fallen in her eyes. Despite her quick inhalation of breath, he tucked it behind her ear and let his hand hover there. Their gazes locked and he felt his heart slam against his chest, over and over, beating into his brain,
It’s her, It’s her, It’s her
.
Her lips parted and she moistened them with her tongue. Helpless, his gaze followed the movement and lingered. This close to her, his body shifted into autopilot, as if ten years had never passed. He grew aroused. His breath deepened. His fingers itched to reacquaint themselves with her hair and breasts and hips.
“Dom…?” she whispered. It had the effect of a gunshot.
Dropping his hand, he swiftly moved back, putting several feet between them. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d meant only to check up on her, yet the minute he got anywhere close to her, he lost his mind. She was certainly staring at him as if she believed that to be true.
“I’m going to need you to fill out a statement. Since I was a witness, I can’t take it myself, so I’ll send another deputy over. Please wait here.”
“But I—”
Turning away, he pretended he didn’t hear her.
He knew exactly what that made him.
An even bigger coward than when he’d broken up with her.
Mattie’s knees were trembling so much she barely made it to a chair before she collapsed. Although she’d been shaken by the incident with the inmate, most of her current distress had to do with the man who’d just left—the same man who’d looked as if wanted to suck on her from head to toe. What was even worse, his intense scrutiny had made her own libido, put on ice for far too long now, go into overdrive. She felt flushed. Achy.
Empty.
But also confused.
Dom had looked at her with such tenderness. It seemed she was right. He
did
remember her. So why was he continuing to pretend he didn’t?
A thought occurred to her and her chest constricted with shame.
Maybe he was worried she’d try to pick up where they’d left off. Maybe he figured, now that she was a single mother and getting on in years, never mind packing on a few extra pounds, she’d hit on him? But then why show so much concern for her arm? And what about the desire that had darkened his blue eyes?
Shaking her head, she closed her own eyes and took a deep breath. The man was as confusing as ever. And, she reminded herself, opening her eyes, she had better things to do than let him play with her emotions again. She’d fallen for that white knight, your-soul-calls-to-mine act before only to be dumped. Hard.
She needed to stay on course—protect herself and stay away from him.
Biting her lip, she retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and dialed Ty Martinez’s number. “Hey, Ty. This is Mattie. I just wanted to say hello and tell you how much I’m looking forward to our date tonight.”
“Idiot,” Dom muttered as he made his way back to the in-custody holding cell. What had he been thinking? He should have known that with Mattie, even the slightest touch would send him over the edge. Now he couldn’t get the dazed, heated look in her eyes out of his head. Despite their past, despite her believing he’d forgotten her, she’d responded just as violently to his closeness as he had. When she’d whispered his name, it had taken all his self-discipline to leave her rather than fall to his knees and confess everything—how much he’d missed her and still wanted her.
Only one thing had stopped him. As much as he wanted her, he wanted her safe most of all. To insure that, he needed to stay objective. He also needed to find out if Dusty had any connection to Guapo.
Reaching his destination, he paused, took a deep breath, and went inside. Pete was gone. He thanked the remaining deputy, then shut the door. The room was quiet except for Dusty’s rough breathing. Deliberately, Dom remained silent for several more minutes before he turned and strode to the opposite side of the room. Grabbing an empty chair, he twirled it around and lowered himself into it. Straddling the chair and resting his chin on his folded arms, Dom stared at Dusty, noting how the usually easygoing inmate couldn’t quite look him in the eye.
Minutes ticked by, but still Dom waited. When Dusty wasn’t looking at the floor, he cast apprehensive glances at the door that led to the jail transport bay. The more time that passed, the more jittery Dusty became. He bounced his knee. Swiped his nose against his shoulder. Tossed his head like he had a permanent crick in his neck that he couldn’t get rid of.
Despite the fact that the guy had been incarcerated for several weeks, his glassy, dilated eyes told Dom he was on something, most likely meth. That posed three immediate questions. Where’d he get it? Did he get it in exchange for making an attempt on Judge Butler? And was his ensuing assault upon Mattie coincidence?
Of course, it appeared coincidental. After all, if Dusty had arrived at the courthouse twenty minutes earlier, he would have been locked down well before Mattie ever stepped into the courtroom. But Dom didn’t take anything at face value. Everything—the tardiness of the jail bus, Pete Littlefield’s uncharacteristic carelessness, even Mattie herself—was immediately suspect.
It was another five minutes before Dusty snapped.
“Come on, man. You taking me into court or back to jail?”
Dom let him sweat another thirty seconds before answering. “Maybe neither.”
The quiet words brought Dusty’s gaze zooming directly to his. “Whad’ya mean?”
Straightening, he casually moved the chair he’d been sitting on against one wall and stepped closer. He loomed over Dusty, forcing him to crane his neck up at him. “I mean, you made a mistake trying to hurt a woman on my watch, Dusty. Before, you were just a two-bit thief with a drug habit and a big mouth. Now, you’re an attempted murderer.”
Eyeballs practically popping out of their sockets, Dusty once more swiped his nose on the shoulder of his jumpsuit. “Murder? Yeah, right. I barely touched her.”
“And exactly what were you planning on doing if you caught her? I bet you would have touched her a whole lot more.”
Dusty grinned, showing several gaps between crooked, stained teeth. “It ain’t like that, man. I just panicked. I’ve been in that little cell for days. I was starting to get claustrophobic.”
Grasping the back of the other man’s chair, Dom leaned down until he could see his reflection in Dusty’s dark pupils. “Cut the bull. You’re a small-time druggie, Dusty. You would have pled and been on your way to rehab in the next day or two. You’ve been in the system long enough to know that. So why’d you do it?”
“I told you, I panicked—”
Straightening, Dom forced himself to take a step back. Then another. That conflicting mix of ice and heat, the one he’d felt when Cam had told him about Joel, was back. He suddenly didn’t trust himself not to step over the line, and his tenuous hold on his control shocked him. “The guy who gave you a fix. When did he first contact you?”
Dusty’s gaze skittered away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re going to take a drug test whether you want to or not, and then you’re going to be charged with yet another count of under the influence. That, with a charge of assault and attempted escape? Well, let’s just say you better get over that claustrophobia really fast. There won’t be any more drug rehab on the horizon. You’re going to prison, man. I can’t see a skinny guy like you lasting very long there.”
Dusty narrowed his eyes and spat on the floor. “I can handle it.”
After staring at the blob of saliva on the floor, Dom looked back at Dusty. Fear flashed in the other man’s eyes, making Dom smile evilly. He activated his radio. “Prisoner ready for transport back to the jail.” Dom casually strolled toward the inner door that would take him back to the courtroom.
“Wait!”
He paused with his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned around. “Something you needed, Dusty?”
“So—um. So what happens if I tell you who gave me the stuff? You gonna drop the charges? You know, the assault. The escape charge?”
“I’m a cop, not a lawyer. I can’t do anything like that. But if you cooperate, I’ll talk to the D.A. myself. If you don’t, well…”
Dusty swallowed hard and cast another glance at the outer door. “The other inmate. Martin Johnson. He slipped me a hit in the holding cell just before we loaded. Told me he had more and all I had to do was cause a little ruckus here.”
Dom pressed the button on his radio. “Hold off on transport.” He retraced his steps into the room. “Did he specify what kind of ruckus?”