Once a Lawman Read online

  “But Junior holds the citation record,” Kent reminded them. “He never lets anyone off with a warning.”

  Luanne hadn’t listened to all his warnings; now she was dead. He’d failed her. He didn’t want to fail anyone else. That was why he’d included the footage of not just Tessa’s traffic stop but of Officer Jackson’s accident, too. That sound of metal crunching metal rang yet in his ears, reminding him again of Luanne’s accident. He tried to block it out as his stomach lurched.

  Had Tessa understood that speeding could have killed a police officer? That if she didn’t slow down and focus on her driving instead of on her cell phone, she could have another accident, one in which more than a mailbox got hurt?

  He cleared his throat and asked Paddy, “Did Ms. Howard turn in her sign-up sheet?”

  Paddy shook his head. “I don’t think she’s interested in a ride-along.”

  “She needs to do it,” Chad insisted. “The whole purpose of her being in the program is so she’ll stop speeding.” Or else he wouldn’t have suggested the CPA as an alternative for her ticket.

  Paddy nodded. “Sure, I’ll tell her the ride-along is mandatory.”

  “Thanks.”

  “He’s just saying that because he wants to be the one to drive her around,” Kent teased.

  “Hell, no!” he protested, not liking the thought of a twelve-hour shift with Tessa sitting beside him—too close, too damn beautiful and sexy.

  His fellow officers laughed at his vehemence.

  “C’mon,” Kent persisted as they waited for the elevator. “We saw your face on that tape when you were walking back to your car. You might have given her the ticket, but she got to you.”

  And that was why he couldn’t be assigned to her. She would distract him from his job, which was all he wanted in his life now and all he’d ever allow himself to care about again.

  “Yeah,” he agreed with his friends, “she got to me. She annoyed me.”

  “She could annoy me anytime,” Kent remarked with an appreciative whistle.

  Chad sucked in a quick breath at a stab in his ribs. It was as if his friend had shoved a knife in his back. He couldn’t be jealous. He wasn’t interested in Tessa Howard, but somehow he found himself reminding Kent of his reporter. “You have your own annoyance.”

  The other man uttered a curse then a heavy sigh. “You guys going to the ’house?” he asked, referring to the Lighthouse Bar and Grille, which boasted the best burgers in Lakewood.

  Chad shook his head. “I’m finishing up Reynolds’s shift in a couple of hours. He could only work a half tonight. He’s gotta get some sleep before he goes to his kid’s show-and-tell tomorrow.” Chad was used to filling in for the guys who had families, and he didn’t mind working the extra hours because they usually helped him forget that he didn’t have one.

  “I’ll buy you a burger before you go on duty,” Paddy offered. “I appreciate your help with the program.”

  “I’m almost done,” Chad reminded his friend and himself. He was almost done seeing Tessa Howard. “I only need to explain the pursuit policy and demonstrate the traffic stop procedure, and my obligation to the program is fulfilled.”

  Paddy shook his head. “I need you to do a ride-along, too, Junior. I need you to do her ride-along.”

  Chapter Four

  “You’re sure everything’s all right?” Tessa asked Audrey, the cell phone pressed to one ear while she plugged a finger into her other ear to block out the noise of the crowded bar.

  “Everyone’s sleeping,” Audrey murmured, then groggily griped, “At least we were until you called.”

  “The younger kids could sleep through an earthquake,” Tessa reminded her teenage sister. But maybe she shouldn’t have; she wouldn’t put it pass Kevin and Audrey to throw a party on one of the nights she was at the class.

  Thirteen more weeks. Only thirteen more weeks, she silently chanted. “Okay then, go back to sleep. I’ll be home in a little bit.”

  “I’ll be sleeping—unless you wake me up again,” Audrey grumbled as she hung up the phone.

  “I love you, too,” Tessa muttered to the dial tone before she clicked shut her phone and dropped it into her briefcase.

  “Thanks for coming tonight,” Erin Powell said as she joined Tessa in the game area of the bar/restaurant. “It’s good to have at least one friendly face here. Since I’m not exactly welcome.”

  “Really?” Tessa pointed toward the dartboard with a blown-up picture of Erin’s face tacked to it. Several holes pierced the brunette’s pretty smile and the bridge of her delicate nose. “I never would have guessed.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be seen with me,” the reporter remarked.

  Tessa shrugged. “I already have the Lakewood Police Department’s account.” She linked arms with the other woman. “So tell me who the Chronicle uses for their telecommunications provider…”

  Erin laughed. “You have the perfect personality for sales.” Her smile grew wistful. “Everyone likes you.”

  As Tessa noticed a familiar set of broad shoulders wedged in among those gathered around the bar, she shook her head. “Not everyone.”

  “You actually don’t seem to like him much, either,” Erin said, following her gaze to Chad’s back.

  “True.”

  “Because he showed the video of your traffic stop?”

  “I didn’t like him even before that,” Tessa admitted.

  “You’re still mad he gave you the ticket?” Erin asked. “Were you really not speeding?”

  A grin tugged at Tessa’s mouth. “No, I was really speeding.”

  “Then why are you mad?”

  “It’s just his attitude, you know?” Her frustration with Lieutenant Michalski bubbled over. “That whole superior, he’s-never-done-anything-wrong attitude of his drives me crazy.”

  “That must be part of their job training,” Erin remarked as she glanced at the blond-haired guy who sat at the long table with several members of the citizens’ police academy. As the group hung onto Terlecki’s every word, laughing, Erin’s brow furrowed, but she betrayed no other emotion. Apparently she released her frustration only at her computer.

  “Why don’t you find us a couple of seats at the table, and I’ll grab us a couple of drinks?” Tessa offered.

  “You don’t have to do that…”

  “I just got a big contract today,” Tessa reminded her. “Plus, I need to butter you up so you’ll put in a good word for me at the Chronicle.”

  Erin chuckled. “Okay, but just a club soda for me. My mom’s watching Jason, and…well…you know how moms are…”

  Not really. Tessa only knew her mother, and in comparison to her friends’ mothers, she’d realized long ago that hers wasn’t exactly the norm—at least not for the conservative area of Lakewood where she’d grown up.

  “Two club sodas,” Tessa agreed, then headed toward the bar.

  She probably could have joined Erin at the table and waited for the waitress to come by again for their drink order. Instead, she pressed in close to one particular man seated at the bar. Over his shoulder she noted the drink in front of him. Beads of condensation rolled down the glass filled with ice and amber liquid and pooled in a circle on the polished surface of the bar. Chad closed his big hand around the glass, lifted it to his lips and took a deep gulp. His throat moved as he swallowed.

  After the footage he’d shown—not of her futile flirting—but of the other traffic stops—he probably needed a drink. Yet disappointment tugged at her. While she had suspected Chad had some sorrows, she hadn’t expected him to be the type to drown them.

  She leaned in closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear as she accused, “Hypocrite.”

  Chad’s skin tingled from the warmth of her breath. “Hypocrite? I’d expected you to call me a name or two because I showed the tape of your stop, but I didn’t see that one coming. I’m not sure what I did to earn it.”

  She tapped his glass, tracing her fingertip around its r
im. “You’re drinking.”

  He could have corrected her misconception, but instead he asked, “Isn’t that why you’re here? To celebrate your new contract?”

  He gestured toward the young bartender, Brigitte Kowalczek, who was also a member of the CPA, then turned back to Tessa. “Champagne?”

  Tessa leaned over the bar, the side of her full breast rubbing against his arm. “Two club sodas, please, Brigitte,” she requested as she pulled her wallet from her ever-present briefcase.

  He closed his hand over hers. “I’ve got it.” He gestured for the bartender to include the drinks on his bill. “So you’re not much for celebrating?”

  “I’m not much for drinking,” she shared, and a hint of pain darkened her blue eyes, making him realize Tessa Howard went much deeper than her beautiful surface. She tapped his glass. “Not like you.”

  He glanced at his watch. “I’m taking over someone’s shift in an hour.”

  “And you’re drinking? Who’s really the reckless one of the two of us?” Her full lips twisted with derision. “Hypocrite.”

  “While you’re waiting for your drink, take a sip of mine,” he offered, lifting the rim to her lips.

  Tessa wrinkled her nose as if the bubbles tickled it. A ridiculous urge came over him to tickle her, to run his fingers up her ribs and see if she would squirm as she’d made him squirm in the elevator the other day. Fortunately the rookies feared him enough that they had not spread around the reason why Chad had been late for roll call that night.

  She had also cost him a few nights’ sleep. He lay awake thinking of her, worrying about her and worrying about how she made him feel—that she had made him feel again. He much preferred the numbness.

  No, he wouldn’t touch her because he would be the one who’d wind up squirming again, not her.

  She licked her lips and commented, “It’s ginger ale.”

  He nodded. “Just ginger ale.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you drink,” she said. “You’re still the reckless one.”

  “How’s that?” he asked, unable to follow her logic, such as it was.

  “I watched all those tapes,” she reminded him. “I know how dangerous your job is.”

  “But that doesn’t make me reckless,” he pointed out. “In fact, that makes me more cautious and careful. A man doesn’t live long in my profession if he’s reckless.”

  “So why did you decide to be a police officer?” she asked as if she was really interested in his answer.

  Since she’d already called him a hypocrite, Chad decided to tell her the truth. “So I could speed without breaking the law.”

  “Funny,” she said. “You’re mocking me.”

  “Actually, I’m not. I was pretty crazy in high school and college,” he admitted. “Then I grew up.”

  “Then you got stuffy,” she said, reminding him of their encounter in the elevator.

  Heat flashed through his body, but he ignored it. He shook his head. “It didn’t take me long on the job to understand how dangerously I’d been living.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of it?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

  He tried to focus on her words, not her face—not her lips. “Tired of my job?”

  She shook her head, and a strand of blond hair brushed his jaw. “No, of being so damned perfect. Don’t you get tired of it?”

  He snorted in surprise. The last thing he’d expected from her was a compliment, however undeserved. “I’m not perfect.”

  She blew out a breath. “Really? You don’t think so?”

  He knew he wasn’t. If he were perfect, his wife would still be alive. He would have been able to make her act more cautiously and carefully. But like Tessa, Luanne had refused to slow down.

  “Then if you don’t think you’re perfect,” she challenged, “why the hell are you so sanctimonious all the time?”

  He laughed, more comfortable with her insults than her praise. “First I’m a hypocrite. Now I’m sanctimonious. I don’t think you’re just mad about the class. I don’t think you’re even all that mad about my including the tape tonight because it certainly didn’t embarrass you.”

  “Is that why you did it?” she asked. “You wanted to embarrass me?”

  If he had, his plan had backfired. He’d embarrassed himself more than he had her because now Paddy and Bullet had some crazy idea that Chad was interested in her. Or maybe the rookies had talked…

  “I was just proving a point,” he said, “like you were in the elevator.”

  A smile curved her lips. “Ohh, you were trying to prove that my flirting didn’t get to you. We’re back to that?”

  He shook his head, never more certain that including the video of her traffic stop had been a bad idea. Like bringing up the CPA to the traffic court judge.

  She leaned close again, her lips brushing against his ear. “I was plastered against you in that elevator. I know exactly how much I got to you.”

  Her words and her breath were warm on his skin, bringing back the memory of her body warm and soft against his. He fought a groan, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

  She glanced down at his lap, then back to his face, her blue eyes brimming with amusement.

  Chad ignored his physical reaction to her because he couldn’t control it. He could, however, control his emotional one. “You can flirt all you want, Ms. Howard, I’m not going to fall for you.”

  “I don’t want you to fall for me,” she said, drawing back as if he’d slapped her. “I don’t even like you.”

  “And it’s not because of the ticket, or the class, or the tape,” he said, returning to the thread of their conversation. “Why don’t you like me?” he wondered.

  “Because you’re too perfect.”

  “HE’S NOT, you know,” Brigitte commented as she collapsed onto the chair next to Tessa at the long table. The rush at the bar had subsided for the moment. And several of the CPA members had left, too: the teachers, who needed to get up early for class, the youth minister and Erin.

  “What?” Tessa asked.

  “Lieutenant Michalski, he’s not too perfect.”

  At least a half hour had passed—Chad had even left the bar—since Tessa had made the comment, but still she regretted saying what she had. Usually she would argue that she was not reckless, but with him she was, acting and talking without thinking through the consequences.

  “It doesn’t matter if he has a few flaws,” she said although she doubted her words. “He’s still too perfect. And I don’t trust perfect.” Perfect built up your hopes that this guy was different, that he would stick around. Then when he took off like everyone else, it hurt that much more, crushing your hope.

  “Nobody’s perfect,” Brigitte said. “He doesn’t always drink ginger ale.”

  “So he does drink?” She’d been right. The guy did have some sorrows—sadness had glinted in his eyes like specks of gold. Instead of vindication at being right, sadness pulled at her, too.

  The auburn-haired bartender nodded. “Not for a while, but he used to. When he did, he’d have Lieutenant O’Donnell drive him home, though.”

  “He’d get pretty messed up then?”

  Brigitte nodded. “The guy has some demons, you know.”

  “Don’t we all?” But what demons chased Lieutenant Michalski? “Did he ever tell you what was bothering him?”

  Brigitte shrugged. “You know that whole bartender-as-confessor thing is a myth.”

  Tessa smiled. “My mom’s a bartender—it’s no myth with her. She has listened to a lot of confessions and sob stories over the years.”

  And usually Sandy had felt so sorry for the guy that she had wound up falling for him. Poor, sweet, delusional Mom…

  Why couldn’t she learn what Tessa had come to accept long ago—that no one could be trusted? That men didn’t stick around. You could only rely on yourself. Sandy should have realized that because every guy had left her to raise her kids alone. Watching her
mom fail again and again at love was what had wised up Tessa.

  “I don’t believe what guys tell me when they’re sober,” Brigitte shared. “I’m sure as hell not going to believe them when they’re drinking.”

  Tessa smiled, recognizing a kindred spirit. “You and I are going to be good friends.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a friend. Since she’d always had younger siblings to help care for, she hadn’t had much time for friends in school or community college. Because she couldn’t hang out at the mall or go to the movies or party, her classmates had stopped asking her to do things with them. Now, at work, she had competitors, not friends.

  Brigitte sighed. “I’m usually here, helping out Gramps.” During the first class she had shared that her grandfather owned the Lighthouse. “You’ll have to come by more often. I could use a friend.”

  “Me, too.” Tessa squeezed the other woman’s hand, then implored, “So friend to friend, tell me what the lieutenant’s demons are.”

  Brigitte laughed. “Seriously, I don’t know. But you might want to ask the other lieutenant.”

  “O’Donnell?” She glanced to where the watch commander sat at the bar, munching on a plate of cottage fries.

  “He usually knew when Michalski would need a ride, like it was an anniversary or something.”

  An anniversary of a divorce? He didn’t wear a ring, but there was something about him that suggested he’d been the marrying kind, once upon a time. Tessa mentally shook her head, doubting that he’d ever been crazy enough, despite his claims, to fall in love. He was too careful, too cautious to have probably ever risked his heart.

  She glanced at her watch. “I’d rather stay and visit longer, but I need to get home.” To see if she had a home left since the kids had had no real supervision tonight. “I’m just going to tell Lieutenant O’Donnell good night.”

  “Yeah, right, you’re going to pump him for information,” Brigitte said. She winked. “You and I are going to be good friends.”

  First Erin, now Brigitte—heck, even Amy—Tessa had never made so many friends.

  “Hello, Ms. Howard,” O’Donnell greeted her without even looking up from his plate. “Are you bringing me your sign-up sheet for the ride-along?”