Justice Served (14 page)

The first thing she saw was the uniform. For some reason, it still stirred her to see it, the gleaming silver bars, the crisp creases in the deep green material, the row of duty medals and ribbons. The United States Army. The dreams of her childhood. Her eyes followed upward, over the neatly buttoned jacket, to the face framed by dark hair, only an inch or two longer than her own and with a touch of curl that hers never had. The blue eyes were hers, though. As was the rest of the face.

Mitchell’s gaze jumped to Sandy, whose face was pale, her eyes dark pools of questions and hurt.
I would’ve told you, honey, but she’s part of the past. And the past is dead. Buried.

“Hello, Dellon.” The voice, modulated and oddly devoid of emotion, drew Mitchell’s attention from her lover.

“Erica.” Mitchell whispered the name as she stared at the face that was the mirror image of her own.

“Rebecca!” Catherine tossed aside the insurance form she had been in the midst of completing and hurried around her desk to greet her lover.

“Hi,” Rebecca replied hastily. “I know you don’t have much time, but—”

Catherine stopped her words with a kiss. Settling her palms against Rebecca’s shoulders, she leaned into her, savoring the taste of her after a day apart. Then she drew back with a smile and a sigh. “I have almost an hour. It’s so good to see you.”

Rebecca skimmed an arm around Catherine’s waist. “I still can’t believe how much I miss you, even when I see you every day.”

“Darling,” Catherine chided gently, “
seeing
me for five minutes in the middle of the night when we’re both too tired to even talk hardly counts.” She touched her fingers to Rebecca’s cheek, then kissed her softly again. “It’s been a long week. I’ve missed you too.”

A quicksilver flash of concern flickered in Rebecca’s eyes and then quickly died. But not before Catherine had seen it.

“I know how hard you’re working,” Catherine said. “I know how important this case is. I understand.”

“Do you?” Rebecca asked, almost to herself, thinking of how many women she had lost because of her obsession with work.
Not Catherine. God, please not Catherine.

“I
do.
” Catherine wrapped both arms around Rebecca’s waist and tightened her hold. “You look exhausted. What else is bothering you?”

“Nothing—I’m fine.”

“Rebecca.” Catherine drew out the word.
I can hear the evasion in your voice.

“It’s just…hell…I don’t know how…I need you to know that just because I’m not home…” Rebecca raked a hand through her hair. “Christ, I don’t even know how to tell you how important you are to me.”

“Oh, Rebecca,” Catherine murmured, “you’re here. That’s how you tell me.” She took her lover’s hand and led her to the sofa that sat against the wall opposite her desk. Curling into one corner, she drew Rebecca against her with an arm around her lover’s shoulders. “Just to have these few moments together makes all the difference.”

“It does.” With a sigh, Rebecca pillowed her cheek against Catherine’s shoulder. “I just have to be with you and something inside me settles.” She tilted her head enough to meet Catherine’s eyes. “Some days, I’m not sure how I would keep going without you.”

“Oh, Rebecca,” Catherine murmured, gently stroking Rebecca’s face as she pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love so many things about you. Your strength, your conviction, your need to right the wrongs in a world where those things don’t seem to matter to many people any longer.” Unconsciously, as she spoke, she caressed Rebecca’s back, urging Rebecca to relax against the curve of her body. “But more than anything, I love being important to you. I love knowing that my loving you makes a difference in your life.”

“I don’t know how I held on until you, Catherine.” Rebecca closed her eyes and let peace take her. In Catherine’s arms, she relinquished the memories of so many nights when loneliness of the spirit and desolation of the heart had scoured her, leaving her hollow. Of the years filled with alcohol-induced numbness and meaningless encounters with women whose names she could not remember. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Catherine sensed Rebecca drift away and held her fiercely.

“I was happy with my life, before you,” Catherine whispered, stroking Rebecca’s hair. “I had everything I wanted—my career, good friends, satisfying interests.” She rested her chin against the top of Rebecca’s head and reveled in the sharp, clean scent of her. “You brought me to the fire, Rebecca. You brought me to the passion. Oh, darling, you are my life.”

In the still room, Catherine watched the rest of the hour pass, listening to her lover’s quiet breathing, guarding her as she slept. Providing this one woman refuge, creating for her a place to rest, a place to heal, brought Catherine the fulfillment she hadn’t known she’d needed.

“Darling,” Catherine finally murmured.

“Hmm?” There had been a time when Rebecca would have snapped into immediate consciousness at the slightest sound, already reaching for her gun. But now, she lingered on the edge of waking, reluctant to relinquish the safety of her lover’s embrace.

“It’s time,” Catherine announced gently.

“I know.” Rebecca eased away but kept one arm around Catherine’s waist. “I had intended to ask you out to dinner at Chucksteak Charlie’s.”

“Oh, I can’t believe we missed that!”

Rebecca grinned. “Sorry.”

“This was much better.” Catherine leaned forward and kissed Rebecca softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me love you.”

Rebecca gave a short, incredulous laugh. “Letting you? Jesus, like I have a choice.”

Catherine smiled. “Good. Remember that.”

“Always.” With a sigh, Rebecca stood and stretched, rubbing one hand briskly over her face. “I’ll probably be late again tonight.”

“Be careful.” Rising, Catherine threaded an arm around Rebecca’s waist to walk her to the door. “I’ll see you when you get…home.”

Home.

The word lingered in the air between them as Catherine searched Rebecca’s face.
When will you let it really be our home? In your heart, and mine?
 She knew the question must show in her eyes, because a shadow passed through Rebecca’s. She waited and watched Rebecca struggle with that final barrier, knowing that tonight would not be the night that it fell.

“I’ll see you later,” Rebecca said at last, sweeping her fingertips over Catherine’s cheek.

“Yes.” Catherine kissed her one more time and stepped away. “Be safe, darling.”

*

Mitchell dragged her eyes away from her twin and strode directly to Sandy. In a low voice, her back to Erica, she asked, “You okay?”

“I guess.” Sandy’s gaze flickered from her lover’s face to that of the woman who watched them intently from across the room, her expression devoid of emotion. Except cold calculation. “Jesus, Dell. What the fuck?”

“I can explain.” A frantic edge of desperation underlay Mitchell’s voice. She caught Sandy’s wrist in her hand, expecting her to pull away, but the flinch at her touch cut even deeper than withdrawal. “Sandy.
Please.
Just give me a chance to find out what’s going on.”

“That would be good, don’t you think?” Sandy’s voice was flat, her eyes empty. “I’d sort of like to know that myself.” She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the other woman. “Jason must’ve thought she was you, because he keyed the elevator automatically. He was probably so busy with his head up some computer he just glanced at the monitor.”

“She’s my sister
.
”

“Well,
duh.
” Sandy grabbed Mitchell’s waistband and yanked her a few more steps back until they were almost in the kitchen alcove. In a low voice taut with nerves, she said, “She’s been here almost an hour and hasn’t said word one. Except to ask if
Officer Mitchell
resided at this address. Oh, and to introduce herself as Lieutenant Mitchell. Fuck, she’s like a zombie in a slick uniform.”

“That’s her normal attitude.”

“You could’ve warned me she was coming!”

“I didn’t
know.
”

“Then how about mentioning a carbon-copy sister running around?” Sandy glanced at Erica again. “She’s watching me like I’m going to lift your wallet.” She shivered. “God, she looks just like you.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Mitchell said, her voice brittle and tight.

“When she walked in, I thought at first…” Sandy shook her head. “I’m glad I kept my clothes on.”

Mitchell laughed quietly, the first glimmer of hope returning to her heart. Sandy seemed more freaked than pissed. “I’m telling you, I didn’t know she was coming. I don’t know why she’s here. I have to talk to her.”

“Yeah, you do.” Suddenly serious, Sandy extricated her arm from Mitchell’s grip. “I’m gonna take off.”

“No,” Mitchell said, more loudly than she intended.

“
Yes,
Dell,” Sandy said stiffly. “Whatever’s going on here, it’s…family stuff.”

“You’re the only one who matters to me.” There was something verging on panic now in Mitchell’s voice. “Please. Please don’t leave me.”

Sandy’s eyes narrowed as she stared at her lover. “Is she going to do something to you? Hurt you somehow?”

“No,” Mitchell said with a shaky laugh. “No. I just… I just don’t want to lose you.”

“Lose me. Lose me
how
, Dell?”

Mitchell couldn’t breathe. Sweat trickled from her hair down her neck. Her stomach threatened to heave. “Don’t let them chase you away.”

“
Them?
Who?”

“The people who say we’re wrong.” Mitchell’s voice was barely a whisper, and her face was ashen. Her eyes, normally so clear, were unfocused, clouded with past torment.

“
Dell.
”

Mitchell twitched and blinked. She focused on Sandy’s face, relieved to see the temper in Sandy’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“You know what I said before?” Sandy asked, placing her palm along the edge of Mitchell’s jaw. “About you being pretty smart for a cop?”

“Yeah?” Mitchell trembled, holding her breath.

“I take it back.” Sandy traced her fingers tenderly down Mitchell’s neck and rested her open hand against her chest, caressing her softly. “I’ll see you later, rookie.”

“Sandy.”

There was an interminable moment of silence, or so it seemed to Mitchell.
Please. Please I need you.

“I promise, Dell,” Sandy whispered.

*

Mitchell didn’t move until she heard the faint whisk of the elevator doors open, then close, and the distant whir of the motor taking Sandy away. She waited another twenty seconds, steeling herself, searching for anger to be her strength. Then she turned and faced her twin.

“What are you doing here?”

“Who’s the girl?”

“I asked you first.”

“The hospital needed some kind of insurance information, and they didn’t have a current telephone number. At least not one you answered. Apparently they got your emergency contact information from an old form on file at the police department. It took
me
a few calls, but I finally got someone who’d said you’d been detailed here recently.” She surveyed the loft. “I take it they didn’t mean
here,
precisely. Interesting setup.”

Mitchell ignored the unspoken request for an explanation. It wasn’t she who needed to explain. “Why did you come?”

“I’m your sister, Dellon.”

“And that’s supposed to mean something?”

Erica’s eyes, the same deep blue as Mitchell’s, sparked with ire. “I’m not the one who relinquished my commission. I’m not the one who walked away.
I’m
not the one who left everything—and
everyone
—behind.”

“Like I had some kind of choice?”

“You
had
a choice. You had a choice before you ever got into bed with—”

“That’s enough.” Mitchell didn’t raise her voice, but it whipped through the air between them like a hand striking flesh. “You should leave.”

Erica’s body was rigid, her shoulders back, her arms straight at her sides. She looked like a recruiting poster, clear-eyed and righteous with purpose. “Damn you.” Her voice was surprisingly soft, nearly plaintive. “Do you know how much it hurt me to lose you?”

“I know.” There was no sympathy in Mitchell’s voice, only bitterness. They had shared the same womb, the same birthday, the same hopes and dreams. They’d been closer than lovers. She’d bled from the loss as if from an amputated limb, until her heart had run dry.

“That girl…she can’t be more than sixteen. You can’t seriously be—”

“Leave it alone, Erica.”

“Have you lost your mind, Dellon?” Erica finally broke form and approached Mitchell, stopping a few feet away. They did not touch. “You threw away one career. Now you’re willing to risk another for someone like that?”

“Someone like that,” Mitchell said very slowly. Her entire body quivered; the hairs on her arms stood up from the tension wiring her skin. She was afraid if she moved, she’d burst into flames and never be able to contain the rage.  “Oh—you mean not shallow and fickle?”