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“I’ll cover your back,” he said, still gazing at her across their desks. “You don’t have to worry about that. But my personal life is off-limits. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, I believe we do,” Eve said, hoping her voice didn’t reveal the regret she felt.
“COME ON IN, Eve, and close the door.”
Eve did as she was told, then took a seat across from the lieutenant’s desk. Clare Foxx was a very attractive woman, dark, sultry looking, with the kind of body even a much younger woman would envy. She was cool and professional, qualities Eve had always admired, but there was something about Clare that was almost formidable. Perhaps it was because she had been instrumental in Eve’s new assignment and was one of the few people who knew the real reason she had been sent here.
Clare sat back in her chair and studied Eve for a long, silent moment. Not since Eve had been summoned before the nuns at St. Anne’s had she felt such a need to squirm.
You’re a grown woman, she admonished herself. Thirty years old and a police officer. So act like one.
She squared her shoulders with an effort, meeting Clare’s gaze. “You wanted to see me?”
Clare nodded. “How did it go out there?”
“You mean with Tony…Detective Gallagher?” Eve shrugged. “Too early to tell. He’s…a bit hostile, isn’t he?”
Clare gave a short laugh. “You might say that.” She sat forward suddenly, folding her arms on her desk as she leaned toward Eve. “You’ve seen his disciplinary record. He’s had his share of rips, both civilian and departmental, not the least of which was that assault charge four years ago. And now this latest incident…”
“He was exonerated each time,” Eve said, maybe a shade too quickly.
Clare frowned. “Still, the media doesn’t print the exoneration, only the charges. Cops like Tony make the whole department look bad.”
“An active cop gets complaints,” Eve argued, even though she knew Clare had a point.
Clare gave her an annoyed glance. “You sound as if you’re defending his behavior. That’s not why you were brought in.”
“I was brought in to observe and evaluate. I can’t do that unless I keep an open mind. I’ll tell you exactly what I told my own commanding officer. I’m not going to railroad Tony Gallagher. If that’s what you want, then I may as well walk out that door right now.”
Anger flashed in Clare’s eyes, but her voice was surprisingly obliging. “Point taken,” she said tightly, then added, “You don’t have qualms about this assignment, do you? It could get a little sticky, if you aren’t careful.”
“I plan to be careful,” Eve said. “And, no, I don’t have any qualms. I know what has to be done.”
Clare nodded in approval. “A word of caution, however.” She got up and came around to lean against the desk, gripping the edge with her fingers. “Don’t let your hormones get in the way of doing your job.”
Eve was taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m talking about the effect Tony Gallagher has on women. He can be obnoxious, opinionated, frustrating as hell to deal with. But he can also get under your skin in a big way. When that happens, it’s damn near impossible to get him out.” Her gaze was very direct, knowing, and Eve stared at her in shock.
So she and Clare Foxx had something in common, after all. It wasn’t a notion that gave Eve any comfort.
“I appreciate the advice,” she murmured. “Is that all, Lieutenant?”
“For now.” Clare waited until Eve had gotten to the door, then she added, “Tony Gallagher is a disaster waiting to happen. That’s why you’re here, Barrett. To make sure it doesn’t happen.”
“I’ll do my best.” But when Eve opened the door and stepped into the hall, she saw almost at once that their cubicle was empty.
Sometime after she’d been summoned into Clare Foxx’s office, Tony Gallagher had decided to bail on her, after all.
Chapter Two
The second watch had already come on duty by the time Eve packed up her briefcase and purse and got ready to leave. Tony hadn’t come back to the station all afternoon, nor had he called in. Eve had no idea where he’d gone off to, but she wasn’t so dense that she couldn’t take a hint. He was avoiding her.
She drew a long breath, wondering again if she’d made the right decision in accepting this assignment. Not that she’d had much choice. When the request came down from the superintendent himself, you didn’t exactly refuse.
Still, if the brass had known about her past with Tony, would their enthusiasm for giving her this assignment have waned? Eve had considered telling them, but then figured it wouldn’t have made a difference, anyway. They knew she came from the same neighborhood, knew she and Tony had attended the same school. Their paths were bound to have crossed at some point, but as Eve’s commanding officer had pointed out, that made her an ideal candidate for the job. She could, in ways that counted, speak Tony Gallagher’s language. An acquaintance from the old neighborhood had a better shot at gaining his trust than a total stranger.
Of course, that theory had been blown all to hell, since Tony didn’t even remember her. Now Eve was glad she hadn’t told anyone about her crush on the neighborhood hunk, the few passionate kisses the two of them had sneaked behind her father’s back. How humiliating to have tried to make something out of what had turned out to be a big nothing.
“Hey, Barrett,” a masculine voice said from the doorway of her office. “Ready to hang it up?”
Eve glanced up, grimacing inwardly at the man who stood watching her. Vic D’Angelo was the stereotypical homicide detective—tall, good-looking and more than a little arrogant. He was tanned, toned and expensively coiffed, but his taste in clothing appeared heavily influenced by the years he’d spent watching reruns of Miami Vice.
In the two weeks Eve had been there, she’d learned to avoid D’Angelo whenever possible, just as she’d learned, in the two or three conversations they’d had, how much he despised Tony. “Cowboy,” he called him disparagingly.
“I was just about to take off,” Eve told him. She hooked the strap of her purse over her shoulder and came around the desk. D’Angelo made no move to let her by.
“A few of us are heading over to Durty Nellie’s for a couple of beers. Care to join us?”
He’d been trying for days to get Eve to have dinner or drinks with him. Of course, what he really wanted was a roll in the hay. Eve knew his type all too well, and what was worse, she suspected he was of the kiss-and-tell variety. He wouldn’t be able to resist boasting about his latest conquest, but it made no difference to Eve. She had no intention of going out with him, let alone sleeping with him.
As if reading her mind, he shrugged, his hand sweeping down his silk tie. “Suit yourself. It’s no skin off my teeth one way or another. But your new partner’s apt to be there. Might give you two a chance to connect, although, I have to tell you, Cowboy’s not exactly the friendly type. If you want to really connect…” His oily smile reminded Eve of a street pimp she’d arrested once while working vice.
She spared him a withering glance. “However charming your offer, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
“Ah, come on, Barrett. Just a couple of beers at Nellie’s. Give you a chance to get to know some of the other guys around here, too. Who knows? You might even get to like us.”
Eve hated to admit it, but he had a point. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be at this station, and the more she was accepted, the better she’d blend in. Being Tony Gallagher’s partner was already making things difficult for her. He was something of a pariah, though she suspected the image was one he cultivated more than he tried to live down.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll meet you there.”
D’Angelo’s grin was so insolent, Eve almost backed out. “Since you don’t know where the place is, how about we ride together?” he suggested.
“Then I’d have to come back here and get my car.”
“Not necessarily. You could pick it up in the morning.” He let his gaze travel leisurely over her body, lingering on her legs as he released a long, appreciative breath.
When he finally glanced up, Eve gave him a cold glare. “You through?”
“You’re not as tough as you try to let on, Barrett.”
He stepped back to let her through the door. When Eve walked by him, his hand very deliberately grazed her derriere. She grabbed his fingers, bending the middle one back almost to his wrist, then releasing it so quickly he wouldn’t have known what had happened except for the excruciating pain. His eyebrows shot skyward.
“Goddammit!” he roared, his eyes blazing with fury. “Why, you little—”
“Careful,” she warned. “Next time it might be another appendage I feel like bending.”
He muttered another oath, but kept his distance as the two of them walked through the noisy confusion of the squad room.
DURTY NELLIE’S WAS a typical Irish pub that had become a regular hangout several years ago for cops who worked the South Side. Although it was located near the neighborhood where Eve had grown up, she’d never been inside.
She found a parking space near the garbage bins in the back, then hurried around to the front door before D’Angelo arrived in his flashy gold ’Vette. He was the type of guy who would circle the block several times until he found just the right space, so Eve figured she had a few minutes.
The decor inside was primarily green with wood trim, and cut glass that sparkled in the subdued lighting. There was a pool table in the back, along with a dartboard that was seeing some serious action.
The patrons—mostly cops and mostly guys—sat drinking at the long, polished bar or hunched over rickety tables shoved together to make the most of the cramped space. Neon signs over the bar advertised Guinness, Bushnell’s and Bailey’s Irish Cream, while overhead speakers blasted an old U2 song, one of Eve’s favorites.
Heads turned when she walked in, and eyes—appreciative and curious—took her measure. Most of the customers went right back to their drinking. Eve was still wearing her shield, although she’d locked her gun in her trunk. Even the ones who had never seen her before knew she was one of them and therefore commanded, even as a woman, a modicum of respect.
She spotted Tony standing at the end of the bar, leaning over a beer and a shot glass as another man stood talking to him. When the man turned toward the bar, lifting his mug, Eve caught a glimpse of his profile. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he might be Tony’s brother. Nick was a couple of years older than Tony. Eve hadn’t known him very well, but she remembered that of all the Gallaghers, his hair had been the blackest, his eyes the darkest blue. And his temper, even back then, had been legendary.
Taking a deep breath, Eve walked over to them. “Hi,” she said over the music. “Mind if I join you?”
Both men turned at her voice. Tony barely slanted her a glance before tossing back his drink. Nick leaned his elbow against the bar, giving her a slow examination. She wondered why his scrutiny didn’t offend her the way Vic D’Angelo’s had.
Extending her hand, she said, “I’m Tony’s new partner. Eve—”
Nick Gallagher cut her off. “Barrett, right? From the neighborhood.”
Eve’s mouth dropped. “You remember me?”
“Sure I remember you. You were, what? Fifteen, sixteen last time I saw you?”
Actually, Eve had been twenty, almost twenty-one, when she’d seen both Nick and Tony at Ashley’s funeral. But neither one of them had noticed her that day. She’d stayed at the back of the chapel during the service and hadn’t approached the family at the cemetery. Tony’s grief had been too much for her to bear. She’d slipped away quietly to grieve in her own way for what might have been.
Nick smiled down at her, a slow, sexy curving of his lips that might have sent Eve’s pulse racing into the stratosphere if Tony hadn’t been standing nearby. The Gallagher brothers were both sexy as hell, but Tony was…
Tony.
Both sets of blue eyes were on her now, and Eve felt her color heighten. Their perusal was very unnerving, especially the way Tony was almost glaring at her. He cocked his head, regarding her in a manner Eve couldn’t decipher.
Finally he said, “Evie? Hell, it is you.”
His voice held a note of incredulity, and Eve managed to shrug. “I wondered when you’d get around to recognizing me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” he demanded.
“Wait a minute,” Nick said. “You mean to tell me Eve is your new partner, and you didn’t even recognize her? For God’s sake, Tony, are you blind?”
“Well, she has changed,” Tony retorted, letting his gaze slip almost sheepishly over her features. “And it has been awhile.”
Eve smiled. “I don’t wear glasses anymore, and the braces are gone. Plus I’ve put on a few pounds.” She gave a fatalistic shrug.
“Yes, you have,” Nick agreed. “And in all the right places, from what I can see. You used to be almost scrawny, as I recall. And where did all your freckles go?”
“Oh, they’re still there, unfortunately. You just have to look closely.”
“Where? I don’t see even one.” Nick straightened from the bar and moved toward Eve, staring down into her face as if searching for her freckles took all of his investigative know-how.
Behind him, Tony muttered, “Oh, please—”
Nick gave him a sharp glance. “Am I cramping your style, Tony? Just say so, if I am.”
“You always do,” Tony muttered, motioning for the bartender. “But when has that ever stopped you before?”
Nick gave Eve a conspiratorial wink, then bent and brushed his lips against hers. “Nice seeing you again, Eve. And my condolences, by the way, for having to work with this punk.”
Caught off guard by the kiss, Eve stared after Nick for a moment before turning to meet Tony’s blue gaze. He didn’t look the least bit jealous, she noticed with a flicker of disappointment. Just faintly amused. “Watch out for him,” he advised.
“You’re warning me away from your own brother?”
“Damn right.” The bartender appeared, and Tony said, “Another boilermaker, Curly.”
The man didn’t have a single hair on his head. He glanced at Eve curiously. “Haven’t seen you in here before.”
“My first time,” she admitted.
“We’ll try to be gentle. What’ll you have?”
“How about a Guinness?”
“Good choice.”
Curly disappeared to get their drinks, and Eve perched on a bar stool. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you,” she said, knowing it was too late if he did.
Tony shrugged. “I guess you’d better. This crowd’s starting to look pretty hungry.”
She knew he was referring to the glances she’d gotten earlier, but she laughed it off. “I take it you don’t get many women in here.”
“Oh, we get enough. We just don’t get many who look like you.”
Eve’s stomach fluttered at his words. She wondered if he was flirting with her or if he was actually paying her a compliment. She was confident enough to appreciate her own attractiveness, but she was also a realist. She was attractive, but not beautiful. She had neither the face nor the figure to stop traffic—not like Ashley.
The bartender set their drinks before them, and after he left, Tony leaned toward her. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were in Clare’s office?”
“I thought it would come to you. When it didn’t…” Eve shrugged again. “It was a little embarrassing. No one likes to be forgotten.”
Tony’s gaze drifted over her face, stopping for one infinitesimal moment on her lips. Was he remembering that he’d given her her first kiss?
She’d been such an innocent. So naive and so impressionable. Tony had been the exact opposite. Wild, reckless, the neighborhood bad boy. But he could pour on the charm when he wanted to. Eve, fresh out of braces and glasses, didn’t stand a chance.
“You were always so quiet,” he said. “Always real shy, the best I remember. What made you decide to become a cop?”
She hesitated, not sure how to answer without giving too much of herself away. “In a way, I guess you’re the reason. You and your family,” she added quickly. “I don’t know if you remember or not, but my mother died when I was thirteen. Her death hit my father really hard. He’s never been particularly outgoing, so he didn’t have many friends and no family to lean on except me.”
She paused, taking a sip of her Guinness. “Your dad started dropping by sometimes on his way home from work. They’d sit out on the front stoop, and Detective Gallagher would talk to my father about his investigations, what was going on at the station. Just small talk, but it meant the world to my father. To both of us. Detective Gallagher made a very big impression on me. He was a really nice man.”
A shadow flickered in Tony’s eyes before he turned back to his drink. “Yeah, he was.”
