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“Of course.” She stepped aside and he brushed past her. He was tall, well over six feet, and he made her five-six height feel insignificant.
“Please sit down.” She waved toward her living room. “Would you like some coffee? I just spilled half a pot down my pants, but I think there’s some left.”
He made a wry face then lifted his right foot. His leather shoe—also expensive—was freshly spotted with something dark. “I’m wearing my caffeine today, too,” he replied. “But I’d like to have some to drink, if it’s not any trouble.”
She nodded. “No problem. Give me a minute.”
Back in her kitchen, Risa made fresh coffee, her nerves zinging. She couldn’t believe the guy had gotten here so quickly. He was obviously a fast worker…and a fast driver. Watching the first drips of coffee flow into the thermal pot, she tried to talk herself out of being anxious, but she failed.
She put everything on a tray and returned to the living room, sitting down on the couch. “How do you take your coffee, Lieutenant?”
He turned away from the photos hanging above her fireplace. “Black is fine, and frankly, I’d rather you call me Grady.”
She filled a cup and held it out to him as he walked toward the sofa, his request surprising her. “Are you sure?” she asked skeptically.
He smiled in a friendly way and took the coffee. “I always drink it black.”
She shook her head. “I’m talking about the lieutenant part.”
He sat down right beside her. His closeness made her feel uncomfortable, but if he realized it, he pretended he didn’t. Then again, she thought abruptly, maybe that was exactly why he’d sat where he did.
“I may be in Internal Affairs, Officer Taylor, but I’m not immune to what the rank and file think about my division. I find it more helpful if we try not to get too stuffy during these kinds of investigations.”
He took a swallow of coffee then looked at her over the mug, his strange gray eyes measuring her in a manner that left her even more apprehensive than his proximity. “If the laxity makes you ill at ease, feel free to use the title.”
It did just that, but she wasn’t about to let him know.
“Grady is fine,” she answered.
“You were wounded.” He smoothly changed gears and nodded toward her bandage. “How do you feel today? Are you in any pain?”
“I’m okay. I would have gone in but my boss wouldn’t let me.” She touched the patch briefly. “It’s nothing.”
“But the loss of your partner isn’t.”
Her eyes went to her hands, which were wrapped around her coffee mug. She’d scrubbed them for a long time last night, removing Luke’s blood. The red stains had washed off easily, too easily, considering what they represented.
“Luke Rowling was a good cop.” She lifted her eyes once more to Wilson’s. “And a good man. I’ll miss him.”
“Have you thought about talking to the department shrink? Leo Austen’s very professional and he knows his stuff.”
“I’d assumed I’d be seeing him at some point during all this,” Risa answered. “He’s part of the package, isn’t he?”
“‘The package’ varies with each situation, Officer. A lot of what happens next will depend on you.” He put his drink down on the table. “For example, you need to decide if you want to contact your union rep before we talk. That’s your option, you know.”
“I’m not a member of the union.”
His dark eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly.
“I don’t need anyone to hold my hand,” she said in a dismissive way. “I’m a big girl.”
He nodded slowly. “I understand, but sometimes it’s nice to have the support.” He tilted his head toward the fireplace and the photos. “How about your dad?”
“How about him?”
“Have you talked to him?”
“Yes.”
He waited for more, but she gave him nothing.
“What about your friends?”
“They were with me last night.”
“What about the chief? I understand you’re pretty tight with her.”
Her eyes jerked to his. “Catherine Tanner was one of my instructors at the Academy. We are friends, but you can leave that fact out of this equation, Lieutenant.”
“I intend to,” he said steadily.
He held her gaze for longer than was necessary, then he leaned back and put his arm across the top of the couch. His fingertips were an inch away from her shoulder and he seemed totally relaxed.
“Tell me what happened, Risa. In your own words. At your own pace. I want to hear the whole story and I’ve got plenty of time.”
IT WAS PAST FOUR by the time Risa stopped talking. She’d been tight-mouthed at first, especially since she’d explained everything over and over the night before, then his gray eyes had warmed and she’d relaxed. Relating the same story to Grady Wilson somehow felt different. For one thing, he was an excellent listener, and for another, he knew the right kind of questions to ask. She’d almost forgotten he was an IA guy—she’d felt as if she were talking to a friend instead.
Which was probably a big mistake on her part.
She looked at the man still sitting on her couch. At some point she’d risen from the cushions and walked to the other side of the room. He was in the same relaxed position.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“I think that’s it. I did everything by the book, but I know there’s a world of difference between sustained and exonerated.”
If he found the first, she could face criminal charges. Needless to say her career would be over. If he found the second, her record would stay pristine.
No one except the IA guys themselves understood the mazelike paths their investigations could take, and rumor had it, even some of them got lost on occasion. A lot of officers, especially the union guys, felt the obfuscation was deliberate, but Risa wasn’t sure. All she knew for certain was that Grady Wilson was in charge of what would happen next. He could recommend more training and counseling for Risa, but written reprimands, a suspension or even termination were options, as well.
Whatever he decided, after his investigation he’d present his recommendation to his boss who would, in turn, hand it over to the assistant chief of IA. The assistant chief and the Citizens’ Review Committee would examine everything then the chief would get her chance.
Catherine would make the final determination. She could send the case to the district attorney and a grand jury if criminal charges were to be filed or she could dismiss the whole affair. Either way, she counted on the IA investigator. Nine times out of ten, his original suggestion became the final outcome.
Everything depended on Grady Wilson.
“Whatever the results,” he said, “you can always appeal if you’re unhappy.”
“I won’t be unhappy because I followed department procedures. It happened so fast I didn’t have a chance to do anything else.”
“That’s why your training is so important. Sometimes it’s all you have. Your training…and the truth.”
They stared at each other from across the room. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something else. Finally, after several more seconds, he stood and reached inside his coat, removing a business card that he dropped to her coffee table.
“That has all my numbers on it,” he said. “Home, cell, office, whatever. If you think of anything else you’d like me to know, don’t hesitate to call, 24/7.”
“I’ve told you everything,” she answered, “but I’m sure we’ll be talking more.”
He murmured, “Oh, yes,” then followed her as she led him back to the entry.
Despite the smoothness of the interview, Risa still felt anxious as she opened the front door. Grady took a step toward the threshold then stopped. They stood close, almost eye to eye, and her gaze went to his hair. It was thick and longer than she’d thought, curling at the base of his neck. More than one strand was gray, but she found that reassuring—he wasn’t a rookie. She also found it strangely sexy.
“When you come back to the office, we’ll start the paperwork,” he said, “but it may take a few days. Be prepared for delays.”
She frowned and focused once more. “Delays?”
“You know how it is,” he answered with an easy smile. “Forms to get the forms to get the forms. It’s all routine and the whole deal won’t last long, even though it might feel differently.”
Risa stilled. “I don’t think I understand,” she said slowly. “What’s routine and won’t last long?”
His eyes met hers, and she suddenly wondered why she’d thought them warm.
“I assumed you knew,” he said quietly. “Until this situation has been cleared, you’ll be behind a desk.”
RISA TAYLOR’S EYES WIDENED until Grady felt himself enveloped by their darkness.
“That’s crazy!” she blurted out. “I know it’s the rule but I can’t sit on my butt while this investigation is ongoing! My partner’s dead! I’m not going to stay on the bench while everyone else is out there doing their best—”
“Your team will understand,” Grady said calmly. “This is SOP for an officer-involved shooting.”
“I don’t give a damn what’s standard.” Her expression was fierce, energy vibrating around her like sound waves off a tuning fork. “This is different! I have to do something.”
“You don’t have a choice in this matter, Officer Taylor.” Grady stared at her, the sympathy he felt for her well hidden. “You’re off the beat—and the case—until this investigation is resolved. Homicide will be handling it.”
“But I can help!”
“Your cooperation will be necessary, yes, but not as an officer. You were a participant and, as such, you can’t work the case, too. Surely you understand that?”
“Well, of course I do, but this situation is different.”
“It seems that way because it’s happened to you, but all I can say is I’m sorry. I do know how you feel.”
“I doubt that.” She looked at him with open animosity. “Not unless you’ve lost a partner, too.”
He started to tell her the truth, something he hadn’t done with anyone in a very long time, but he swallowed his answer. Stepping off her porch and into the sunlight, he said, “Call me when you decide to return to headquarters, Officer Taylor. I’ll be waiting.”
CHAPTER FOUR
LUIS TREVINO PHONED Risa that evening.
“Everybody’s bugging the hell outta me to find out how you’re doin’ so I thought I’d better call. You okay or what?”
Risa couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks for the concern, boss. Knowing you care so much makes me feel really loved.”
He made a sound between a snort and a chuckle, then spoke again. “Just answer the question, Taylor.”
Her fingers went to her bandage. “I’m okay. I’m coming in tomorrow.”
“No, you’re not,” he replied. “We got a new rule on the books. Injured officers gotta stay home for at least two days.”
“Forget it. I’m coming in. I want to work. It’s better for me than sitting here and thinking.”
“Yeah, thinking can be dangerous,” he conceded. “But I don’t want you back yet. You, ah, need to rest some more.”
He was bullshitting her. She waited a second before answering. “What’s going on, Luis?”
The silence continued until he broke it with a curse. “The IA prick, Wilson, came in this afternoon and told me there’s some kinda holdup with your file. Nothing important, just some bureaucracy crap.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “You shoulda just said so in the first place.”
“I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it.”
“It’s part of the deal, Luis. I understand how it’s going to work. You don’t need to baby me.”
“I’m not,” he said defensively.
“Yes, you are,” she countered. “But that’s okay, too. Maybe I could stand a little babying, whether I want it or not.”
“I’m glad you’re not mad at me ’cause tomorrow’s going to be bad enough as it is.” He hesitated as if he wasn’t sure of her reaction to what he was going to say next. “They’ve scheduled the memorial service, Risa. Two o’clock, Settlegast-Kopf on Kirby, day after tomorrow. Later on, there’s gonna be a private cremation.”
Later on… Risa swallowed as she realized what Luis meant. An autopsy had to be performed and Luke’s body could not be buried until those results were in. They talked for a few more minutes about the status of her cases, then they hung up. Closing her eyes, Risa put her head down on the kitchen table.
But she didn’t cry.
She thought instead.
She thought about Luke and his kid. She thought about her and her father. Finally she thought about Grady Wilson, or, as Luis had put it so succinctly, the IA prick.
Grady had told her to be prepared for delays, but what did it matter now? When she did get back, she was going to be stuck behind a desk instead of doing anything worthwhile.
Her mind struggled to cope with the chaos that had taken over her life. Yesterday morning—a little more than twenty-four hours ago—Risa had had everything in order: her future, her career, her very existence—and now nothing but anarchy ruled. Her partner was dead, she was under investigation and her job had just disappeared. For one crazy minute, she had the feeling that she might just follow.
She cursed Grady Wilson, then she took a deep breath.
The guy was simply doing his job, just as she’d told everyone he was. Nothing more. Nothing less.
The situation was only temporary. In a matter of days, if not weeks, the IA man with the spooky eyes would conclude his investigation and Risa would return to the street and do what she’d been trained to do. Instead of whining, she should be on her knees thanking God. Eventually, she’d have her life back.
Luke wouldn’t.
