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Falling For Him
Morgan Hayes
Every cop needs a good partner…In this line of work, you have to trust the person who's watching your back.When Claudia Parrish's partner–and lover–dies, she figures "happily ever after" just isn't going to happen. A year later, she's assigned another partner and before long, begins to wonder if she might have a chance, after all.Gavin Monaghan is the new guy in the Homicide Unit. He's a good detective with plenty of experience. Except he's not really who he says he is. He's an undercover Internal Affairs agent assigned to find the cop responsible for the evidence tampering that's allowing criminals to walk.Gavin knows he has to do whatever it takes to find the one bad cop. But that might just mean gaining Claudia's trust only to betray her.
Gavin watched as Claudia searched Silver’s desk
The morning sunshine highlighted her hair, and he thought of angels. The imagery struck him as ironic, especially considering the fact that Claudia Parrish was as likely a suspect as anyone in the ongoing corruption within the Homicide Unit. After all, the evidence tampering hadn’t ended when her partner’s life had. And the most recent involved one of Claudia’s own cases.
Gavin hadn’t been surprised to learn of Judge Warner’s dismissal of the Brown case. Reports of the missing gun were in the file his lieutenant had handed him weeks ago—a thick file that made Claudia Internal Affair’s prime suspect.
After five years on IAD, he prided himself on his ability to read people. Claudia Parrish, however, wasn’t easy to read. Either her defensiveness was an honest response, or there was more behind the sharp tone she’d adopted with him earlier.
He definitely had to be careful. He couldn’t afford to alienate Claudia. Not when he needed to get close to her—close enough to find out the truth.
Dear Reader,
My ongoing research with Baltimore’s Homicide Unit rarely offers a dull moment. Not only does it provide a constant source of ideas for stories, but these determined and dedicated detectives are inspiring models for the kinds of strong and intriguing characters that inhabit the pages of the books I love to write.
In creating Falling for Him, I wanted to represent these admirable men and women of the Baltimore Police Department as the everyday heroes they are, working exhausting shifts and dealing with aspects of life we can only imagine. I’ve seen the toll that such a job can sometimes take on an individual and the way detectives’ work often wears at their spirit and their personal lives. With that in mind, I created Detectives Claudia Parrish and Gavin Monaghan—both with their own strengths and weaknesses, both with the same drive and perseverance in their quest for what they believe in, in their jobs and in their hearts. I hope that the courage and integrity of each and every one of the Unit’s members has been captured in Claudia and Gavin’s story, as well as that enduring sense of hope and love we all need to embrace.
Sincerely,
Morgan Hayes
Books by Morgan Hayes
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
632—PREMONITIONS
722—SEE NO EVIL
773—DECEPTION
Falling for Him
Morgan Hayes
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Lynette.
Also…
To The Hutch—I’d be lost without you gals!
To Jackie Navin and the rest of my stunning critique group.
And with very heartfelt thanks to Sgt. Steve Lehmann of BPD Homicide—a real hero.
And to the rest of the guys on the Unit: Mike, Cliff, Bill, Homer, Wayne, Joe and too many others to mention. You know I love you guys!
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE (#u6fd83334-5954-5469-b747-077b5544a9b3)
CHAPTER ONE (#ufbda30d0-1e6c-59f8-a7a4-3f0174069d11)
CHAPTER TWO (#u48f61e62-8128-5b08-a9fe-f7b2fca6a111)
CHAPTER THREE (#ued8f68d6-94b5-5b37-b5ab-9fa0d7c9705e)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub1fabadd-70fe-52eb-8cb7-ba6148c377de)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE
CLAUDIA KNEW HE WAS DEAD even before she’d brought her car to a skidding stop along that cold, dark street. She knew the second she heard the Federal Hill address crackle over the police radio. Her mind refused to grasp the idea, but in her heart, through her entire body, she felt it, as surely as if a part of herself had died.
The ambulance, the half-dozen squad cars with their revolving lights, and then the crime-scene van parked outside the two-story row house confirmed her fears.
Frank was dead.
Claudia leaped from the car, hardly registering the sharp pellets of icy rain slapping her face as she made her way through an already gathering crowd and ducked under the yellow crime-scene tape.
“Detective Claudia Parrish,” she said, giving the officer barely a second to acknowledge the silver shield she flashed, before mounting the front steps two at a time.
The stairwell seemed tighter than usual, hot, with a cloying mustiness that she didn’t recall in all the times she’d been up here. She was out of breath before she reached the top-floor apartment, but it wasn’t the two flights that had winded her. It was shock. It closed around her chest like a fist, clenching steadily until she thought each gasp might be her last.
Frank.
Even the entrance of the apartment didn’t seem right—it felt cramped and narrow. The splintered door, half-off its hinges, displayed the force that had been used to gain entrance.
The world tilted briefly, and she lifted her hand, about to catch herself against the ruined doorjamb. But she stopped. This was a crime scene. Instead, she buried her hands deep in the pockets of her trench coat. Not that it mattered—they would find her prints all over the apartment anyway.
“Detective Parrish,” she heard one officer say. Surprise lifted his tone as she stepped past him and several other uniformed officers.
“Come on, guys. Clear out.” She recognized Sergeant Gunning’s growling voice from farther back in the apartment. “It’s getting crowded in here. Everyone out except the techs, all right? Now.”
She moved through the apartment, each stride shakier than the last, until she drew near the open bedroom door. Frank’s bedroom.
He was dead. But she still expected to hear his voice above the others, analyzing the scene—after all, he was the squad’s best.
There was the bright flare of a camera’s bulb, the high-pitched whine of its recharge, and then another flash. Sergeant Gunning’s hulking figure filled the doorway, his head bowed and shaking in disbelief.
I shouldn’t have left you last night, Frank. The thought tumbled through her mind, over and over. I should have been listening instead of arguing. Instead of accusing. I should have believed you. Should have trusted you.
She stopped in the doorway, her gaze involuntarily drawn past the crime-scene technicians to the corner beside the bed. She caught a glimpse of his white leather sneakers, and the first wave of nausea churned in her stomach.
She must have gasped, because Sergeant Gunning turned to face her.
“Oh, damn. Claudia. What are you doing here?”
“I heard…on the radio…” Her sergeant’s exclamation alerted the others of her presence. They parted. And then Claudia saw him.
She took one unsteady step forward. Sergeant Gunning’s hand settled on her shoulder for a brief moment, as if intending to hold her back. But he didn’t.
“Frank.” His name didn’t echo only in her thoughts. Claudia heard her own voice, thin and wavering, fill the sudden silence. Her breath shortened, and her heart raced as she took in the scene.
Nothing, not ten years in uniform and another two in Homicide, could have prepared Claudia for seeing her own partner sprawled across the carpeted floor.
Even as she stood over his body, she expected him to move. It couldn’t be Frank’s lifeless body lying there, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt…the Baltimore Ravens T-shirt she’d bought him just last month. But it was. Claudia choked back a sob and struggled against another rush of queasiness. She tried to focus, process this like any other crime scene.
Detach. Put your emotions aside. Think like a detective, Frank would have advised her.
Claudia scanned the room. There was no indication of a struggle. The bed was made with Frank’s suit laid on it for work. His pager and cell phone were on the dresser, and his shoulder holster hung over the back of the chair next to it. Empty. The 9mm police-issue Glock was in Frank’s hand instead.
“No signs of forced entry,” Claudia heard Gunning say behind her. “The boys had to use the ram to get in when no one answered. Neighbors reported the gunfire. Claudia? You gonna be all right?”
Her knees threatened to buckle as a numbness crept over her. She lowered herself to kneel next to Frank.
“No one was seen entering or leaving the apartment,” Sergeant Gunning went on. “Couple people heard the shot less than an hour ago and called it in. We’re going to conduct a thorough canvass, but…it doesn’t look like…”
Sarge’s voice faded from her awareness. As did the rest of the room and the people around her. She couldn’t detach. It wasn’t possible. This wasn’t just another victim.
This was Frank. Her partner of two years, her best friend…
The edges of her vision blurred until there was only Frank. Her hands shook when she reached for him. Part of her knew she shouldn’t touch him, but no one in that room would dare to stop her.
The sob Claudia had fought so hard to contain escaped at last. His hand was still warm as though there was life. She caressed it, turning it over and sweeping her fingers across his broad palm, feeling its softness. Strong hands, yet lovingly gentle, she thought, remembering how they had felt on her body, how they’d touched her and held her in a way no other man ever had.
She lifted his hand to her face and pressed it against her cheek. There was the faint trace of aftershave—the same smell she’d woken to this morning, lingering on her sheets from the day before…before their argument.
I’m sorry, Frank. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. Sorry I didn’t believe you. I should have been here.
She squeezed his hand, half-expecting a response. His hair was mussed, and she had to force herself not to brush her fingers through it. It was getting long again, she thought. He needed a cut.
She was about to touch his face when someone grasped her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Claudia. You can’t.”
She started to resist the person pulling her away, until she looked up. She recognized Lori Tobin from the crime lab.
“We’re not finished,” she told Claudia with an apologetic expression. “I’m really sorry.” Her whisper was sincere, and Claudia only vaguely noticed the woman’s sympathetic touch as she guided her to one side. For Claudia, there was only Frank.
She wanted to cry. No, she wanted to scream. She wanted to touch him, to hold him, to feel him with her once again—alive.
The fist around her chest clenched tighter, and Claudia swallowed hard against the bitterness that crept up her throat. She straightened her shoulders. She had to pull herself together. Frank would want that, she thought. He’d want her to be strong. To be professional, and to keep up appearances.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” she managed to say, fighting the tremble in her voice.
“There’s nothing to make us think otherwise,” Gunning argued. “The door was locked from the inside. There’s no sign of a struggle.”
“This is not what it looks like,” she repeated, trying to convince herself against what was so painfully obvious.
“We’ve got a single shot, with a contact wound to his right temple.” Gunning placed one broad hand on her shoulder, but it did nothing to calm her whirling emotions as suspicion prickled along her neck. “I’m sorry, Claudia. I know you don’t want to believe Frank could have done this. No one does.”
“He didn’t kill himself, Sarge.”
“Claudia—”
“I know Frank.”
“His own gun’s in his hand, Claudia. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” She stepped away from him. “Frank did not kill himself. There’s something not right here. Something…I don’t know what, but this just doesn’t feel right.”
She shook her head and then madly scanned the room once more. This wasn’t right. When her gaze found Frank’s body again, there was the hot sting of tears. She clenched her jaw to dam them.
“He wouldn’t do this. It’s not his way. I know him, Sarge. I know Frank.” Better than any of them did. Better than any of them even realized. He was more than just her partner. More than her best friend. Frank was her lover, the one person she cherished more than life. And now…
What am I supposed to do, Frank? Tell me what I’m supposed to do? This time, when Claudia tried to lower herself to Frank, needing to feel his warmth once more before it was gone from his body forever, Sergeant Gunning held her back. And this time, nothing could stop the tears.
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS HER LAST SHIFT of a week on midnights. Claudia glanced up from the file on her desk and out the windows of the sixth-floor Homicide offices. At five o’clock the city hall dome was taking on the first rosy reflections of the morning sun. Her optimism grew. The squad might just make it through the night without a call. One more hour and the next shift would be in to relieve them. Then she could go home to a long-awaited and well-deserved bath, and finally to bed.
