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Authors: Terry Odell

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"Right," Kovak said. "Trent
found out about the diamonds and saw some of the unfinished mugs. He put two
and two together, went up to buy the mugs, but he didn't know they were only in
specific ones. He didn't want to call attention to himself by buying all of
them, so he bought four. But, apparently those didn't have any diamonds in
them, so he went back to get everything else he could."

"He still didn't need to break my
stuff," Sarah muttered under her breath.

"Cops had a warrant and found two
cartons of your Garrigue pottery at his apartment," Kovak said. "He
and his girlfriend planned to pack up and leave with their ill-gotten gains
after the semester was over. I'm afraid their plans have been thwarted."

Sarah grinned at Randy. "Does he
always talk in jaded clichés? Or did he eat a thesaurus for breakfast?"

"You wound me," Kovak said. "Here
I thought I was being eloquent. Waxing poetic."

"Not to change the subject,"
Sarah said, "but how's everything with your jobs?"

"Status quo," Kovak said. "Highly
underpaid civil servants, but we live to serve."

"Overtime back in effect?"
Randy asked.

"Plus a small raise to atone for
their sins. Looks like Janie won't have to rush back to work. And there are a
few new faces on the town council."

Things were good, Randy thought. He
looked at Sarah. She shifted her gaze to Kovak.

"One more thing," she said. "Who
shot at us last night? I was with Rachel—Officer Michaelis. We were almost to
campus and people started shooting."

Randy tensed. "What?" He glared
at Kovak. "What the hell happened?" He cut his eyes back and forth
between the two of them. "Why didn't you tell me?

"It's all right," Sarah said. "We
didn't get shot. Only shot
at
. The cops caught them. I wanted to know
who it was."

Randy's head ached anew. "Kovak.
Talk."

"Actually, it wasn't Sarah who got
shot at. It was a poorly executed attempt to free Trent Wallace. His girlfriend
thought she could create enough of a ruckus and Trent would escape in the
mêlée
." Randy glared. Kovak raised his hands. "Sorry.
Fracas? Skirmish?"

"How about confusion?" Randy
said.

"Yeah, but it didn't get confusing
enough. One of the cops let go of his dog and that was that. It's not like we
run away when someone shoots a gun."

Sarah dropped Randy's hand. She traced
the pattern on the bedspread. He was afraid to meet her eyes. He knew what she'd
be thinking. That in his job, he ran
toward
gunfire. After yesterday's
events, she must be having second thoughts about living with a cop.

Kovak stood and put his hand on Randy's
shoulder. "You look like hell, big guy. Get some rest. I've got another
session with the locals before heading home." He winked. "Don't wear
him out. He's not as young as he used to be."

 

* * * * *

 

Sarah saw Kovak to the door and turned the
safety latch. She tried to digest everything they'd talked about but knew it
would take days, maybe months, to get it all straightened out in her head.
There were still missing pieces, questions that might never be answered.
Unwitting or not, she'd been an accomplice in diamond smuggling. She smiled to
herself. Her weekly conversation with her mother would be interesting this
Sunday, no doubt about it.

Something else flashed through her mind.

"What?" Randy said.

"I didn't say anything." Maybe
if she joined a community theater group she'd learn how to conceal her every
thought from the man.

"You didn't have to," he said. "What
are you thinking?"

"I was wondering if there are any
innocent customers who don't know they have a fortune in smuggled diamonds. And
what they'd do if they found them."

Randy looked thoughtful. "Interesting.
I suppose the media would love the story. I can see hundreds of people breaking
pottery hoping to find diamonds."

"They're illegal, though. Isn't it
against the law?"

"The lawyers would love to get their
hands on that one. Nobody's going to admit to being the owner of the stones,
because they're smuggled into the country and contraband to begin with."

"Like when you confiscate drugs?"

He gave a quiet laugh, then coughed and
picked up his water. He sipped. "I wonder if they'd sit in an evidence
room. Maybe the police departments could sell them for better equipment."

She met his gaze. "If I'd had more
time, I would have had better records and you could have traced all of the
sales and maybe you'd have caught these creeps and you wouldn't be here now. I'm
sorry."

"Sarah, this is
not
your
fault. Is that what's bothering you?"

She shook her head. She'd thought it
through last night and she'd made her decision. There was no point in putting
it off. Randy was a cop. He could get killed on the job. She
wasn't
a
cop and she'd almost been killed, too. Life happened no matter who you were,
and she knew no matter how short their lives might turn out to be, she wanted
to spend every remaining minute with him. That love couldn't be set aside because
there were risks. And if Randy died, she couldn't bear that he would take
everything that was Randy with him.

"I want to get married," she
said. "Right away. And I want to stop taking the pill and I want to have
your baby. Babies." Well, that certainly didn't sound the way it had in
her head at three in the morning.

His mouth dropped open. Then he grinned. "Aren't
you supposed to get down on one knee? And where's my ring?"

She knelt beside the bed—on both knees.
She took his left hand in hers and kissed the spot where a ring would go. "I
love you. And I love
us
. Say yes."

"Yes," he said, right before he
pulled her to him and kissed her down to her soul.

 

Acknowledgments

 

Without help and encouragement from the
following, this book would never have been written. Thanks go to:

Mark Hussey, Darrell McCaskill, Michael
Kispert and Thomas Stroup of the Orange County Sheriff's Office.  Your advice
and company gave me those bits of realism I needed. Apologies for things I
adjusted for the sake of the story.

Major Thomas Fuller, US Army for the XY
help.

Wally and the gang at Crimescenewriters
for answering questions about anything and everything. 

To Sandra McDonald, for her support from
day one.

The Novel Alchemy group for their keen
eyes.

CJ Lyons, MD, for her medical assistance.

My ever-patient crit partners, Dara
Edmondson and Julie Salvo, and all the support from the ladies of CFRW.

To Jessica for the pottery expertise.

And, of course, to Dan who helps with
absolutely everything.

About the Author

 

Terry Odell began writing by mistake,
when her son mentioned a television show and she thought she’d be a good mom
and watch it so they’d have common ground for discussions.
Little did she know she would enter the world of writing, first via fanfiction,
then through Internet groups, and finally with groups with real, live partners.
Her first publications were short stories, but she found more freedom in longer
works and began what she thought was a mystery. Her daughters told her it was a
romance so she began learning more about the genre and craft. She belongs to
both the Romance Writers of America and Mystery Writers of America.

Now a multi-published, award winning
author, Terry resides with her husband in the mountains of Colorado.

 

Her website –
http://terryodell.com
Her blog –
http//terryodell.com/terrysplace
Facebook -
http://www.facebook.com/terry.odell
Twitter -
http://twitter.com/authorterryo

 

 

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