Yuletide Defender (4 page)

A nearby streetlight lit his face. There was no mistaking the look of concern he directed at her. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I guess I'd better call a tow truck to take my car to a garage.”

“Would you like me to take care of that for you?”

Relief flowed through her. “Would you, Matt? I have to admit I don't have a clue who to call.”

He laughed. “Then get back in the car and I'll call the guy we use at the station.”

She scrambled back inside the police car and watched as Matt placed a call. After speaking for a few minutes, he nodded and ended the call. Opening the driver's side door, he climbed in and smiled. “No problem. He'll come get your car right away and take it to his shop on Cedar Street. You can talk to him in the morning.”

“Thanks, Matt. I really appreciate that.” She hesitated a moment. “And thank you for being concerned about my safety. You're a good friend.”

He turned the ignition and cleared his throat. “Would you like for me to pick you up for work in the morning?”

She shook her head. “No, I'll call my insurance company and get a rental until my car is fixed. Although I wish I could junk the car.”

He glanced at her and then back at the road. “What's wrong with it?”

“It's old and about ready to die. The only problem is I can't afford a new one yet. Maybe these stories will change that.”

“How so?”

Rachel settled back in the seat and stared out the window. “My job at the
Beacon
is just a stopover on my way up the ladder of success. If I do a good job with these stories, maybe I'll get noticed by a TV station that needs an investigative reporter or a big-city newspaper. I'd settle for anything that pays more money than I'm making now.”

When Matt didn't say anything, she glanced at him. His mouth had drawn into a grim line and he appeared to be concentrating on his driving. For the remainder of the trip he didn't speak except to ask directions. When they stopped at the entrance of her apartment building, she unbuckled her seat belt and turned to him.

“Thanks for everything tonight, Matt.”

His fingers gripped the steering wheel. “Glad I could be of help.” He hesitated a moment before he swallowed and licked at his lips. “There is one more thing, though.”

“Another question about the shooting?”

“No, something else.”

Matt turned to face her and his gaze flitted across her face. A ripple of pleasure coursed through her. She noticed for the first time the dark eyes that seemed to bore into her soul. Her cheeks warmed, but she couldn't break the contact with his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to ask if you'd go with me to the Fox Theater Saturday night.”

Rachel opened her mouth to say no, but she couldn't find the words. She'd passed the elegant old theater many times, but she'd never been able to afford a ticket for a performance. “The Fox Theater?”

Matt rubbed his hand around the steering wheel rim. “Well, you see, I have these two tickets to the Christmas production of
The Nutcracker
that the Lake City Ballet is doing
and I don't want to go alone. It'd be nice if you could join me. We could grab a bite of dinner before and then go to the theater.”

“Dinner and the ballet?”

What was the matter with her? She shouldn't even think about going. She'd promised herself nothing would interfere with her plans. Something warned her Matt could become a distraction. But what harm could one night cause?

“I'd love to go.”

A big breath escaped his mouth. “Good. I'll call you later with a time.”

“That will be fine.”

He smiled and reached across her to open the door. “If you change your mind about a ride to work in the morning, let me know.”

She smiled and stepped from the car. “I will.”

Rachel watched until the taillights of Matt's car disappeared in the distance before she walked into the apartment building lobby. She breathed a sigh of relief to be back on familiar ground. When she'd left earlier, she had no idea what awaited her on that dark neighborhood street.

She'd gone expecting to see a policeman take a bribe or maybe a drug deal going down. Never in her wildest dreams would she have expected to see two men murdered. On top of that, she couldn't have guessed that Matt Franklin would chase her down an alley.

The most unbelievable of all, however, might have been her agreeing to a date with Matt. One date didn't mean anything. It wasn't like she intended to begin a romantic relationship with him. She had more sense than that. Romance was the last thing on her mind. She'd certainly told herself that enough times.

Loneliness washed over her and she bit down on her lip. Where did this feeling she didn't understand come from? No
matter how hard she tried to ignore it, at times she couldn't. She might have trouble understanding her emotions, but tonight had made her positive about one thing—there was a vigilante in Lake City.

R
achel set her cup of coffee on her office desk, dropped into the chair at her computer and unfolded the newspaper's morning edition she'd picked up when she entered the
Lake City Daily Beacon
lobby. Just as she thought, her story had claimed the headline spot this morning. It wasn't often that a decorated police officer was killed while taking an alleged—as she'd carefully worded it—payoff from a gang member.

She skimmed the story that she'd filed soon after returning home the night before and smiled. Her presence at the crime scene lent credibility to her hinted allegations. It was the question of whether or not a vigilante was stalking the streets of Lake City that she read with interest. Such a declaration couldn't help but get her noticed, and according to the messages in her in-box this morning, this was exactly what had happened with her readers. It shouldn't take long for others in the media to follow.

Lost in thought about her story, she jumped when a knock sounded at the open door to her office. She glanced up to see Matt and Philip Nolan standing in the hall.

Even with the tired lines around Matt's eyes, she had to admit he was just about the best-looking guy she'd met in a long time. There was something different about the image he projected and the other policemen she'd seen at the gang-related murder scenes. Although she knew little about his
background, one thing she did know—he was comfortable with who he was. She liked that about him.

She smiled and stood. “Good morning. Come on in.” They walked into her office and stopped in front of her desk. The serious expressions on their faces told her this wasn't a social visit. “What are you doing here so early?”

Matt's dark eyes flickered across her face before he pointed to the newspaper lying on her desk. “We read your story.”

The barbed tone of his words told her he was less than pleased. She raised her chin and stared at him. “What did you think?”

Before Matt could answer, Philip spoke up, “Needless to say, we were a little concerned. Where did you get the idea a police officer was one of the victims at last night's shooting?”

She motioned to the chairs across from her desk and sat down. When the two detectives were settled, she leaned forward and crossed her arms on her desk. “I heard two police officers talking. Although they mentioned Detective Carr's name, I didn't reveal his identity. I had no idea if his family had been notified of his death. Once we've established that they know, I'll print it. The citizens of Lake City have a right to know if one of our trusted police officers is really a crook who takes bribes.” She looked from Matt to Philip. “It may cause your department some problems, but that's not my concern.”

Anger flashed on Matt's face and he started to speak. Philip laid a restraining hand on his arm. “We understand your position, Miss Long, and we're not asking you for preferential treatment. However, we're just now getting to the bottom of this. When we have proof of any wrongdoing, the Chief will hold a press conference.”

Rachel smiled. “I'll be in the front row.”

Matt leaned forward, his elbows on the chair arms and his
hands clasped in front of him. “We just want to make sure that you don't do anything that will hamper our investigation.”

She stared into his somber eyes. “I have no intention of interfering with the police.”

He didn't break eye contact with her. “Then you'll cooperate with us?”

“I've always done that.”

Matt's eyebrow arched. “From the calls the station is getting this morning, I don't think our captain would agree with that.”

“What do you mean?”

Philip leaned forward. His eyebrows pulled down over his hawklike nose. His dark eyes bored into her. “Your story about a vigilante in Lake City has upset a lot of citizens. The phone has rung all morning from people wanting to know what the police are going to do about it.”

There was no mistaking the annoyance in Matt's and Philip's eyes. Rachel bit back the retort hovering on her lips and considered their point of view. They were the ones who risked their lives every day to keep the citizens of Lake City safe.

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “There's no one in this town who respects the police more than I do. But you need to understand that the press has a responsibility to keep the people informed. I hope you catch this guy soon so I can write the ending to this story.”

Matt smiled. “So does that mean you'll help us?”

“Of course.”

“By telling us what you learn from your source?”

Rachel glanced from Matt to Philip, a frown on her face. “You know I can't reveal a confidential source.”

Philip shook his head. “We have a duty to protect the citizens of this city. If your informant knows something that can help our investigation, we need to know what it is.”

Matt's forehead wrinkled and he stared at her. “Don't make
the mistake of thinking you're capable of dealing with these people. They're dangerous, Rachel.”

There was no avoiding the concern she saw in Matt's eyes. The memory of a bullet striking the bricks above her head the night before sent a tremor through her. Perhaps in her haste to get a story she hadn't been careful enough.

She nodded. “I know the gangs pose a threat to everybody around them. If my source calls again and he agrees that I can tell you what he tells me, I'll let you know.”

Philip's mouth crooked into a smile. “Well, until that time, how about not staking out any lonely street corners by yourself?”

Rachel chuckled. “Okay.”

Matt stood. “We don't want anything to happen to you, Rachel.”

Rachel glanced from Matt to Philip. “I appreciate that.”

Philip let out a big breath, pushed to his feet and extended his hand. “It was nice to see you again, Miss Long.”

“Please call me Rachel.” She smiled and grasped his hand but pulled away when his ring pressed into her finger. “Ouch.”

Philip's eyes grew wide and he released her hand. “I'm sorry. Did my ring hurt your finger?”

She rubbed her hand and gaped at the gold ring Philip wore. “I've never seen such a beautiful ring. It must be a family heirloom.”

Philip smiled and held it out for Rachel to get a better look at the unusual design. The gold ring featured two hands that encircled the finger and met in the front to hold a crown perched atop a heart. “It's been passed down in my family for generations. Originally it was given to my great-great-grandmother when she married. It was a symbol of the love and faithfulness that she was promised. It's made its way through the family and was given to my father. When he died, it passed to my brother.”

Rachel frowned. “Then how did you get it?”

Philip gazed down at the ring for a moment before he replied. “My brother died. Since he wasn't married, he wanted me to have the ring.”

The sadness that flickered in his eyes pricked Rachel's heart. “I'm sorry. That must have been hard for you. I have a sister and I don't know what I would do if she was taken from me.”

He smiled and straightened his shoulders. “Then don't take the time you have with her for granted. You never know what tomorrow will bring.”

Rachel glanced at Matt. His eyebrows drew down across his nose, and she wondered what he was thinking. Philip's smile wavered as he glanced at Matt. He backed away from Rachel and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

“If you'll excuse me, I have a few calls to make. I'll meet you at the car, Matt.”

With a nod in Rachel's direction he turned and headed out the door. When he'd disappeared from view, Rachel tilted her head and crossed her arms. “You look tired this morning, Matt. What time did you get home last night?”

He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was at the station until three o'clock.”

Rachel stepped closer. “Is there something else wrong? The look you gave me when I was talking with Philip struck me as odd.”

He hesitated a moment before he spoke. “I've known you for several months now and you never told me you have a sister. You only met Philip last night and you felt comfortable talking about your family.”

Rachel opened her mouth in surprise and then laughed. “I can't believe you said that. For your information, Mr. All-Business Policeman, I don't think we've had a personal conversation until last night. I know nothing about you or where you grew up.” She let her gaze drift over him. “I can tell from
the expensive clothes you wear that there's something different about you from any detective I've ever known.” She inched forward and lowered her voice. “So, tell me, do you have deep, dark secrets you're keeping? For all I know, yours could be worse than a sister.”

Matt's face turned crimson and he stuck his hands in his pockets. “I guess we don't know much about each other. Maybe we can take care of that when we go out Saturday night.”

She smiled. “I'd like that.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Well, I guess I'd better find Philip. I have a feeling he didn't have any calls to make and just wanted to give me some time to talk with you. I told him I was taking you out this weekend.”

“And I need to get back to work. See you later.”

Rachel watched Matt walk out of her office before she returned to her desk. She picked up the pen lying on the desktop and tapped it on the surface. Even though she'd joked with Matt about him being different, there was an element of truth to it. It wasn't just his expensive clothes, but rather the ease with which he wore them.

He'd said their date Saturday night would give them the opportunity to know each other better. She wanted to know more about Matt, but that meant opening up about her background, too. What would he say when he found out about her family? Probably what every other man she'd ever dated said. If so, she'd better enjoy Saturday night because there wouldn't be a second date.

In high school, the boys she'd grown up with were content to be friends at school, but not one of them had ever asked her on a date. Not even to prom. She'd made all kinds of excuses to her mother to cover her disappointment—there wasn't anybody she wanted to go with, spending money on a prom dress was ridiculous, she needed to study for finals.
But her excuses thudded like a hammer against her hollow heart.

College offered a fresh start with people who didn't know her. She'd fallen in love for the first time, and it had been perfect. Until she took her boyfriend, Justin, home to meet her family. She had thought he was different, that he would be able to accept her sister Cara and her disabilities, but she'd been wrong.

Cara's attempts to be friendly with Justin had been met with cold indifference. He wasted no time in telling Rachel that he'd never been comfortable around special-needs individuals and that he wouldn't have come if he'd realized how bad Cara's condition was. It came as no surprise when he ended their relationship a week later.

The worst blow had come, however, when she realized he'd warned all the guys he knew to keep their distance. She often wondered what stories he had told about his visit to her home, but she thought it better that she not know. She didn't need to add more anger to what she already felt over the hurt her mother and sister had suffered. They didn't deserve it. That experience did, however, confirm one thing for her. Love and marriage didn't have a place in her future.

The ringing of her telephone interrupted her thoughts and she reached for the receiver. “Rachel Long.”

“I seen the morning paper.”

Rachel's eyes widened at the sound of the familiar voice. She sat up straight. “You did?”

The man didn't speak for a moment. “So the vigilante got Terrence. He been with the Rangers a long time. Never met that cop but I heard the brothers talkin' 'bout him.”

Rachel closed her eyes as the memory of what she'd seen the night before swept over her. “I've never seen anyone killed before.”

“So, now you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then maybe we can help each other.”

Rachel reached for a pen and paper. “Do you have anything else you can tell me?”

“Yeah. Can you meet me again?”

Rachel's heart raced. “Where?”

“Tonight. Same place, same time. How's that for you?”

Her fingers tightened around the pen. “I'll be there.”

“I'll see you then.”

“Wait,” Rachel cried out. “Let me give you my cell phone number. You might need it sometime.”

She recited the number and waited for a response. “Got it. See you tonight.”

Silence on the other end told her the caller had disconnected. She hung up the phone and sank down in her chair. Her conversation with Matt and Philip replayed in her mind. They wanted her to let them know if her source called again. She reached for the phone, but then she drew her hand back.

Common sense told her she didn't need to go to this meeting alone, especially after what had happened last night. But the rendezvous time was over twelve hours away. She could decide later what she needed to do. With a sigh she swiveled her chair so she faced the computer. There were a lot of emails, and she wanted to see what the citizens of Lake City thought about a vigilante in their midst.

 

Three hours later, Rachel pulled on her coat and walked out of her office toward the elevator at the other end of the hall. She'd just pushed the down button when the elevator doors opened and her editor, Cal Belmont, stepped out.

His smile broadened when he saw her. “Good job on your story, Rachel. I've had a lot of emails this morning about a vigilante in Lake City.”

“Thanks, Cal.”

A man stepped around Rachel and moved into the elevator. She watched the door close and groaned inwardly. A
conversation with her long-winded editor could turn into a lengthy chat, and her stomach was already rumbling the message that it was time for lunch.