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He pushed her away roughly and suddenly, and she glimpsed the fire in his eyes seconds before he spun with a muttered “sorry” before he stalked down the hall, slamming the door behind him.
Breathing hard, Calla stood rigid where he’d left her. Most of her questions were still frustratingly unanswered. She knew he wanted her, but he refused to give into that need. She intended to find out why.
Because friendship was far from the only thing she wanted.
“OKAY, GIRLS,” CALLA said to her best buds via her laptop’s video link. “I’ve got a serious problem here.”
“Let me guess,” Victoria began, then sipped from a coffee mug while the window at her back exhibited a collection of Manhattan high-rises. “Antonio’s in a bad mood.”
Shelby, the Swiss Alps at her back, frowned, her normally golden-hazel eyes dark with concern. “Is he okay, Calla? Why didn’t he come to the wedding?”
“It’s a big, damn mess.”
Calla told her friends the abbreviated version of assault, frame-up and suspension. “We’ve got to help him.”
“Certainly we will,” Shelby said immediately.
“Does he want us to help him?” Victoria asked. “Antonio doesn’t seem like the needy type.”
“He needs us,” Calla insisted, though she knew Victoria was right. “He’s concussed and suspended.”
“And angry, I’ll bet,” Victoria added.
Calla bit her lip. “Actually, he raced out of here, slamming the door behind him, about five minutes ago.” She paused, taking care not to look her friends’ directly in the eye. “Course that might have been because I kissed him.”
“Well, that would—” Shelby leaned forward. “You kissed him?”
“It’s about damn time” was Victoria’s dry comment.
“How did it happen?” Shelby asked.
“He was feeling guilty because he couldn’t remember if we’d slept together or not, and he was holding my hand, which, in retrospect, I don’t think he realized he was doing, and all these feelings welled up inside me—”
Victoria held up her hand. “Hold it. He couldn’t remember if you’d had sex?”
“He was pretty out of it last night,” Calla said.
“Apparently,” Victoria remarked.
“So, anyway,” Calla went on, “I laid one on him, and he seemed really into it, then he suddenly darted out the door.”
Victoria shook her head. “I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again—that guy has issues.”
“You’re not being helpful, V,” Shelby said before she directed her gaze to Calla. “He’s not thinking straight. That’s why he pushed you away. If you want to help him, you’ll have to be persistent. Think of him as an exclusive interview you absolutely have to get.”
Victoria gestured with her mug. “Gotta agree with you there.”
Calla made an effort not to pout, but it was tough. “He’s been doing a pretty good job of avoiding me the last six months.”
“But he does want you,” Shelby said, clearly frustrated. “Anybody can see it. Your timing was just wrong. The first move has got to be perfect.”
“He made plenty of moves last night,” Calla said. “But since he was toasted, I don’t think those count.”
“Sure they do,” Shelby insisted. “His inhibitions were down, so he went with his unvarnished instincts. Be persistent. And when I get home, we’ll triple-team him.” She paused. “No way will this trumped-up assault charge last.”
Calla knew she’d made the right move by calling her friends, even if she had interrupted Shelby’s honeymoon. “I could use the backup. In the meantime, he’s going to need a good attorney. V, can you call your dad for a recommendation?”
Victoria nodded. “I’ll ask, and I’m sure he knows somebody, but he’ll be expensive.”
Calla winced. “I don’t think Devin will have the budget for a highflier.”
“What about that guy you took to V’s Christmas party last year?” Shelby asked.
Victoria scowled. “The one who kept drooling on her rhinestone shoes?”
“That’s him,” Shelby said, undeterred. “Didn’t he leave the public defender’s office to open his own practice?”
“Howard?” Calla asked. “I don’t know. He asked me to marry him on our second date. It took a long time to let him down gently.”
“Speaking of proposals …” Shelby grinned. “How are things with you and Jared, Victoria?”
“Fine,” Victoria said. “No proposals. We agreed.”
Over Labor Day weekend, Victoria had fallen in love with a Montana adventurer. Though wild about her new man, she was also wildly independent and seemed to be struggling with the concept of coupledom.
Victoria shrugged, though her eyes were bright with lust. “In between him dragging me off to Turks and Caicos, we’re—”
“He drags you off to Turks and Caicos?” Shelby interrupted in disbelief.
“Not exactly.” Victoria’s face actually turned pink. “But we go. In between we’re trying to merge our apartments in the city. No easy task, as it turns out. He wants to buy the place next door, so we can knock out a wall, and he can build a man-cave where he can watch football and drink beer. But I remind him that I should have a chick-den where I can do hair and invite over gay guys to give me grooming tips.”
“Who wins?” Calla asked.
“Nobody,” Victoria said. “We argue, have sex then forget what we were arguing about.”
“Sounds like a good thing,” Calla muttered. “Shelby, does Trevor have a man-cave?”
“He has an office. With a minifridge stocked full of sparking water and champagne. I don’t think cavemen ever envisioned the English aristocracy. His decorator’s excellent, though. Course she makes in a month what I do in a year, but our place is beautiful, and she had a commercial-grade Sub-Zero fridge installed in the kitchen, so she’s good in my book.”
“Is her brother, sister, mother, father, cousin or next-door neighbor a lawyer?” Calla asked, wondering how they’d wandered into this tangent.
“Sorry.” Shelby cleared her throat. “Back to Detective Antonio … does this suspension have anything to do with his trouble years ago?”
“I don’t know,” Calla admitted.
“You’re going to have to ask him about it,” Victoria reminded her.
Calla waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. I will.” And wouldn’t that be fun? But if she was going to help, she had to have all the facts, no matter how painful.
“It seems to me we need to find out how strong the case is against him,” Shelby said, echoing Calla’s concern.
“And who’s this witness accusing him of assault?” Victoria asked. “Antonio might be moody, but he wouldn’t beat up some random stranger. Why would he need to? He probably intimidates most criminals with a single cold stare.”
“The department isn’t saying diddly,” Calla said, knowing they had to find a way around that. Legal advice was imperative. Course he hadn’t actually been charged with anything … yet. If she hadn’t seen the lost and furious expression on Devin’s face, she’d wonder if she was overreacting. “Devin seems to think his boss believes in him, but he has to follow procedure. IAB’s going to get involved.” She paused to gather her emotions before she added, “They took his badge. I mean physically forced him to hand it over. Talk about humiliating.”
Shelby’s eyes darkened. “Oh, Calla.”
Calla swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not just what he does, it’s who he is.”
“He’s still a cop,” Victoria pointed out, pragmatic as always. “He has friends, right? You know, really stoic and tolerant ones. We obviously need somebody on the inside.”
The contrast of Victoria’s sarcasm brought back Calla’s optimism. They had much more on their side than entrapment and lies. “He has friends.” Though that was also wrapped up in hope, since she’d never met any of them. “I’ll get him working on that angle right away. As soon as I find him,” she muttered.
Victoria sighed in disgust. “Don’t find him. He’ll come to you.”
Calla ground her teeth. “Sure he will.”
“Bet,” Victoria said, her eyes gleaming. “I got twenty on the Calla-dazzled detective.”
“Calla-dazzled?” Shelby asked. “Is that a word?”
“It is now,” Victoria asserted.
“Darling, we have dinner reservations,” Calla heard Trevor, Shelby’s new husband, say in his elegant English accent.
“I’m coming,” Shelby called. “Say hi to Calla and Victoria.”
Trevor’s handsome face appeared in the video frame. “Good evening, ladies.”
Calla had to suppress a sigh at his wavy black hair and vivid dark blue eyes. She really was desperate if she was lusting after her best friend’s husband.
When he moved out of view, Calla got a glimpse of him walking away, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit. With this whole assault and suspension mess, she’d also missed out on seeing Devin in a suit at the wedding.
Infuriated again, Calla vowed to personally see that lying, purse-snatching jerk paid for that crime alone.
“How’s the snow?” Calla whispered to Shelby as Trevor left the room.
“How’s the sex?” Victoria asked at the same time.
“Great and great,” Shelby returned. “And I need to get back to both. Trevor’s patient as a saint, of course, but an emergency video chat with my girlfriends is enough to drive any groom to frustration.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Calla said. “Both of you.”
“Tell Devin I’ll make him some of my special cookies when I get back,” Shelby said. “My next catering gig isn’t for a while.”
“And if he decides to blow off the NYPD and these bogus charges,” Victoria added, “I’m sure Jared would be glad to take him off to Borneo or somewhere equally unextraditable.”
Calla’s throat tightened. “You guys are the best. Coffee’s on me next week.”
Victoria’s lips winged up. “Wedding pictures and a plan to clear a friend on an assault charge. Only the three of us could have a coffee date like that.”
After they signed off, Calla slumped on the sofa. Her and her buddies’ latest adventures had included sending a fraudulent investor to prison and solving the theft of a cursed multimillion-dollar diamond-and-sapphire necklace.
How hard could it be to convince the NYPD of the innocence of their determined, clever, though admittedly irascible, friend? Possibly without said friend’s help?
She closed her laptop and leaned her head back. Who was she kidding? For months she’d lived in a fantasy world concerning Devin. The text, the craziness of last night and the impulsive kiss were all she had as any kind of evidence that he might want her, too.
And all of those events could be attributed to some sort of altered state.
He always comes to the rescue when you call him.
Super. If only she were the one suspended and accused of assault.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she should back out and let him deal with his problems on his own.
He’d never desert you.
Frustrated with the whole mess, and especially her interfering conscience, she rose. She needed a strong cup of tea and a big piece of leftover wedding cake.
On the way to the kitchen, she glanced at the plastic pharmacy bottle sitting on the counter. His pain meds.
Victoria was right. He’d be back.
Unless he found a liquor store open on Sundays.
4
DEVIN SHIFTED HIS WEIGHT and stared at the carpeted floor outside Calla’s apartment.
He was never indecisive. What was wrong with him?
A head injury was too convenient to blame. Embarrassment over his suspension was whiney. Overwhelmed by a beautiful woman’s kiss was damned humiliating.
That left regret.
But his DNA didn’t include contrition. His personal motto was trudge on and forward and forget the crappy past that couldn’t be changed.
Her touch and scent lingered on his skin. Weak and dizzy, he longed to give into the comfort she’d offered. To bury himself in her body, hold her against him beneath cool sheets, feel her breath heave, her pulse gather speed.
But she was too pure and perfect for him. He’d taint her somehow. He came from bad stock and had no doubt of a golden upbringing for her that included luxuries like regular meals and consistent lighting and heat. He imagined her dad as some big guy with a Stetson, a firm hand, but broad smile for his beauty queen daughter.
His old man had done a dime for armed robbery, and Devin hadn’t seen him since he’d mooched four hundred bucks and taken off for parts unknown eight years ago.
He leaned his head against her door, bracing himself. He’d mistakenly given into his urges once before. The results hadn’t been pretty.
Added to those crappy memories was the incessant pounding in his head. He wasn’t thinking straight, and only Calla held the relief he needed—in more ways than one. He was weak and, for once, he needed somebody to share the burden.
Acknowledging he’d been stalling, he knocked on the door.
