Chapter 2
He had arrived before her and already placed the order. He knew her enough to anticipate her needs. She would need red meat, bloody and disgusting by his estimation and icy cold beer.
He also knew that she would appreciate the booth at the back and closest to the window. Margo Sullivan was a cop through and through and preferred facing the room.
Even though it was a ‘cop shop’, with other cops milling around, shooting the breeze after clocking out or eating whatever the menu had to offer and drinking beer, she would not be comfortable sitting in the middle or up front.
She was also more comfortable with less crowd. His smile came as he watched her stride into the darkened space, her cop eyes flickering around the room, giving brief nods to those who called out to her.
And she was a woman who captured eyes. He often thought that it was because of the fact that she did not give a rat’s ass about fashion and that was mainly the appeal.
But it was much more than that. Margo had the long lean and hungry look of a feline. He privately labeled her as a panther or a tiger. Her jeans were faded as was her shirt. She had on an old jacket that was used to cover her shoulder holster, and her hair had several tendrils escaping the tight bun.
Unlike other females, she had not seen the need to tidy up and slap on makeup. Not that she needed it. He was once again bowled over by the fact that she was in her fifties. She had the looks and grace of someone twenty years younger.
“I ordered for you!” He just managed to anchor himself down as he started to rise to pull out her chair. She would not appreciate being treated like a damsel in distress and such niceties were lost on her.
Her tapered brows lifted as she turned the chair around and straddled it, hooking her feet on the rungs. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous.”
“Cold beer and a sizzling burger.” He sent her a charming grin as he nudged the beer towards her.
“You think you know me.” She accepted the beer and twisted the cork off.
“I would like to think so. You are not so complicated.”
“If you say so.” Her eyes roamed the room restlessly as if searching for someone. “I see Jenkins is back from his stint at the Federal office.”
“Yeah.” Michael took a sip of his own beer. “And much more of an asshole than before.”
That made her smile. “So, nothing has changed.”
“Not much. You look good.”
She eyed him as she sipped her beer. “If that’s your feeble way of trying to get laid, you’re not doing a bang-up job.”
He shrugged an impatient shoulder. “Christ woman! Can’t you take a frigging compliment?”
“You know how I feel about those.”
He was saved from responding when their meals were brought to the table.
“Hey superstar. Welcome back.” The owner of the bar, a middle-aged black man with an ample girt, beamed at her.
“Thanks, Bert. How’s the wife and kids?”
“Perfect. The new baby is like a charm. Sleeps through the night.”
“How many kids in total?”
His smile widened. “Four.”
“Ouch. My sympathies to Maureen.”
“She loves it. Meal’s on the house. No, arguments.” Without waiting for any, he ambled away to serve someone else.
“Good man.”
“His place was robbed three weeks ago.”
She frowned at him and picked up her burger. “Did they catch the assholes?”
“With the cash and liquor in their possession. A silent alarm went off and every cop within a five-mile radius responded.”
“They were either morons or new to the area. This place is always crawling with cops.”
“Precisely. It is good to have you back.” He looked over at her and shook his head. “There’s nothing sexual about the damn comment, so take it at face value.”
She grinned at his exasperated expression. “Am I that much of a pain in the ass?”
His brows lifted. “We are thinking of making a sign and hanging it outside your office.” Brad grinned at the dirty look she aimed at him. But he was happy to see that she looked relaxed and rested. “What are you going to do with your time off?”
“Nothing. Try and do a bit of cleaning and visit a gallery or two.”
He gave her a contemplative look. “It always amazes me that you like that kind of stuff.”
“Why?” She demanded. “Because I was brought up in a group home?”
He gave her a pained look as he took a sip of his brew.
“No, it’s because of how bloody tough you are. Jesus! Lighten up. Being brought up in a group home obviously made you who you are. And I happen to admire the package.”
“Package?” Her sultry voice had gone ominously quiet.
“Package, yes.” He grinned. “And we have too many cops present for you to even consider kicking my ass.”
“Don’t be too sure of yourself. What did you want to talk to me about?”
“You heard of the new street drug?”
She nodded, her expression going sober. “Even under, I heard whispers. It is hitting the clubs and causing a hell of a lot of damage. Combination of meth and speed. Mostly college kids and a few high schoolers getting hooked. It’s like a damn epidemic.”
“Enough to have everyone getting concerned. Including the mayor.”
“And we all know he is gunning for the White House. It is more of a political thing for him.” The bitterness seeped through her voice.
“That’s beside the point. Have you also heard the rumors?”
“About it being linked to Medtech? Yeah. The investigation is stalled because – that company is a pharmaceutical giant with top lawyers on retainer. Without solid proof that it comes from their house, we are dead in the water.”
“We are!” He polished off his burger and meticulously wiped his fingers on the napkin. “The commander is pulling you in for the undercover work.”
She nodded. “The reason why he wants me to take some time off.”
“Are you serious about it being your last undercover stint?”
She nodded. “I’m getting too old for the streets.” She grinned as he scoffed. “It is true. The last one was wicked. The two brothers had me tuckered out and I was not on my guard. I was almost killed.” Her smile faded.
“I spent months under, some of that time, sleeping on the streets to get a feel of things and it was pretty rough.” She put down the rest of her burger and picked up her beer.
“I met some people and talked to them and realized they are not insane. They just don’t have anywhere to live. Some are down on their luck and just plain down. I managed to recommend some of them to homes where they can take the chance to recover and make a fresh start. It was damn depressing.
Hell, we take so much for granted – a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food to eat, that we forget there are people suffering.” She shrugged. “I have decided to set up a regular soup kitchen for the homeless.”
“Isn’t that already in place?”
“No. For the area I was involved with, it’s only once a week. People need to be fed every damn day of the week. There are restaurants dumping leftovers, every single day. I’ve reached out to a couple of them for assistance.”
“You don’t fool me, Sullivan. You have a heart of gold,” he grinned at the look on her face.
“It’s common decency to care.” She flicked a glance over his immaculate suit. “You should sell some of your expensive stuff and give the proceeds to the cause. Remind me again how a guy who earns a living as a cop can afford to dress like you do?”
“Smart investing and savings. Also having a wealthy aunt who thinks the world of you.”
“The woman is a damn fool.”
“She adores me.” His smile faded. “You need something other than the job.”
Her frown came again. They had had the same discussion over the years with the same results.
“I am not sleeping with you again.” That is over and done with.”
He gave an impatient movement with his hands. “This is not about me trying to get into your pants.
You are a very good cop, no scratch that – you are an excellent cop and part of it is your focus and determination to stand for the victims. That’s admirable. But you don’t have a personal life. You are all about the job. I am surprised you are not facing burn out.”
Leaning back, she eyed him appraisingly. He was a solid cop himself and aside from the fancy threads and the well-groomed ash blonde hair, he was good at what he did and was steady. She had no hesitation of walking into a building with him because he always had her back. He was also a friend, whether she wanted him to be or not.
“How did the personal life work for you?” She pointed her bottle at him. In the last half hour while they had been seated, several cops had departed and more had strolled in.
The noise level was considerable, competing with the game on the big screen television in the center of the room. It was a cozy setup and a familiar one and she had missed it. “You have been divorced twice – the second marriage lasting only two years.”
He grimaced. “That’s because I’m still hung up you,” he said, half teasingly.
“We are cops and we make lousy bed partners and even lousier spouses. Our hours are insane. We see our partners at work, more than we see our partners at home. That has got to put a tremendous strain on any relationship, no matter how solid.”
“Is that why you never considered matrimony?”
“That among other things.”
“Life’s about taking risks.” He pointed out and had her laughing.
“Where the hell did you pick that up?”
“It’s true,” he insisted, “I don’t know how you do it. Being alone all these years, never having a solid relationship.”
“I happen to like my own company. And being alone is not the same as being lonely.”
“Now, who’s being philosophical?” He scoffed.
“I’m just being real. Oh, crap.” She groaned. “We’re about to be invaded.”
“is this a private gathering or can anyone join in? Hey Bert, another round for this table.” Detectives Holland and Willis pulled out chairs without waiting for an invitation.
*****
Her place felt strange and incredibly quiet. She had taken on a mortgage twenty years ago and never regretted setting down roots. The first apartment she had called home was in a downtrodden area and had had more than a few complaints.
But as she was hardly ever home, it had not bothered her very much. It had been just a place to hang her clothing and crash whenever she was off and that was rare. She was a workaholic and after leaving the academy, she had been determined to make her mark.
Shaking her head at the idealistic person she had brought into the ‘cop shop’, she closed her door and engaged the alarm. Since then, she had bought the house in a very nice neighborhood, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
She was a cop and even though she did not announce it to her neighbors, because of how sensitive her position was, she was still cautious.
Taking off her boots, she tucked them away inside the hallway closet and unhooked her weapon harness. She had spent the greater part of the evening shooting the breeze with fellow cops and had forced herself to stay for the conversation and a few more beers.
Brad had cast her amused looks as he realized that she was dying to leave.
But she stuck it out and enjoyed herself. She had a week to recuperate, adjust to being back where she belonged before she took on another assignment. And this one was going to be a biggie.
Making her way through the hallway and past the entrance table, she went into the kitchen that she rarely used.
She was not domestically minded and in fact hated anything to do with housework. She was set up in a way that she could afford employing someone to come in and do chores. But she hated anyone in her space. And the fewer people she had around her, the better for her.
She bought paper plates and cups and ignored what Brad always said about adding to the pollution. She hardly ate at home, but when she did, she preferred to have fewer things to wash up.
Heading straight to the machine, she programmed coffee and sat at the dining table while she waited.
She had come a hell of a long way. Being brought up in a group home had been lousy. Not knowing why her mother had left her there, had been worse. She had learned to defend herself since she was six years old and had grown tough over the years. Had to. It was eat or be eaten.
It wasn’t until later that she discovered the truth about her parentage. Her mother had been a junkie, and her father was unknown. Her grand aunt had spent years looking for her and when she finally found her, the woman had told her the truth.
It had taken a hell of a long time for her to accept the woman’s open devotion, but she finally accepted that Aunt Sybil loved her. The woman genuinely cared.
Rising, she went to pour a large cup of the brew and took it with her upstairs. A long bubble bath and maybe some cleaning up before crashing for the night was in order.
She had told Brad that she was going to be taking in some art and make a stop at the museums and that is exactly what she planned to do. In between, she was going to visit her aunt and maybe spend a night.
After she had failed to convince her niece to live with her, she had extracted the promise that Margo come and see her as often as she can.
“Like it or not, I am your only remaining relative and I happen to love you. Please don’t make me beg.”
So, she had succumbed, and the visits were not so awful. Aunt Sybil was in her nineties, but the woman was as spritely as someone much younger and did everything for herself.
She only had someone come in twice a week to take care of the household chores. She did her own shopping and cooked her own meals. She also loved to garden. Margo had a feeling she had inherited that aspect from her aunt.
Gardening relaxed her and whenever she was at home, she would dig in the dirt. Her flowers were blooming, and her vegetables were lush and thriving. She had herbs planted in pots on her windowsill.
Whenever she had a yield, she would take it to the precinct and hand it out to her fellow cops who would always tease that she planted all these vegetables and did not cook.
Taking the cup with her, she pushed the door open to her suite and just stood there in the small sitting room.
It was always a marvel that she had a home of her own after her inauspicious beginning. She worked hard, harder than most of the men in her squad. She was a woman and had come in with nothing and realized that she had to prove herself.
She worked out religiously, both at the precinct and at home. She had transformed one of the bedrooms into a fully equipped gym and sparred mostly with Brad. She ran almost ten miles every day and kept her body well-toned and fit.
She was not crazy about working out, but she was aware that as an older woman, she had to be on the ball.
Sweeping her eyes around the lovely green and blue room with its tan leather sofas and big screen television hooked to the wall, she stepped out and into a bedroom, she had designed herself. She wasn’t at home too often, but when she was, she wanted to be comfortable.
The blue and green theme continued in the bedroom. The windows were large, giving the room an illusion of extra space and there was a window seat with plump pillows that overlooked her garden.
She liked the view a lot and had the idea that it soothed her nerves whenever she was on an exceedingly difficult case. Her queen-sized bed was in the center of the shiny parquet floor and the quilt covering it had mixes of green, blues and yellows.
Her closet doors were thrown wide open, revealing that she did not do much shopping. The few items of clothing were woefully inadequate, reminding her that she need to order some more clothes online.
She was certainly not going to torture herself by deliberately going to a damn mall and searching for bargains. After all, she was not insane.
Walking over to the window seat, she took pleasure in sitting down and looking out at the beautiful view.
*****
Unwrapping the gauze after tugging off his workout gloves, he stared at the bruising and reluctantly realized that he had overdone the hit on the punching bag. But his mind had been in a disarray. The meeting with his brother and family had not gone as well as expected.
Jason had been resentful and disrespectful, two things he did not tolerate. And his brother had compounded the problem by apologizing effusively. Janey had been annoyingly predictable, with her simpering.
It always sickened him that his brother’s wife did not show the slightest hesitancy about coming onto him. She had tried to lure him into her bed several times and he had skillfully avoided it without having to resort to anything drastic.
But the woman got on his nerves. He had no idea what on earth Maurice saw in her. But to each his own and he had no intention of getting between a married couple, even though Maurice was his brother.
Michael on the other hand was a welcome change. His other nephew was steady and a hard worker and was involved in a monogamous relationship with a lovely young woman. Merrick was proud of him.
Stripping off his sodden clothing, he stood in front of the mirror and ruthlessly studied his lean body. His shoulders, chest and forearms rippled with muscles when he moved, and his stomach was taut and flat. Sprinklings of dark hairs dusted his tanned chest.
He might be approaching his sixties, and that always took him aback – but he did not look it and was in exceptionally good health. His sex life was active and whenever he had the time, he indulged.
Moving away from the double mirrors in his green and gold bathroom, he bypassed the massive tub in the center of the room and headed for the large shower install. Having it out with his brother’s family had put a pall over his evening. He had had plans to take in a musical but instead had to run interference.
Touching the button that dispensed soap liquid, he filled his palm and used the forest green liquid to rub over his body. And could not stop the memories from crashing back. It has been twenty years ago. The coming fall would officially make it the twentieth anniversary of the most painful day of his life.
His fiancé and unborn child had perished in a plane crash and had changed his life forever.
Pushing some more buttons, he ducked his head beneath the spray and closed his eyes as the water sluiced over his body and washed away the suds. Laura had been six months pregnant.
And they were having a son. He should have married her before, but they both wanted to wait. And he was supposed to have accompanied her on the trip to Paris to do some shopping, but something had come up at the last minute.
A freak storm. The bitterness surged into his throat and lodged there. A storm that had come up out of nowhere had ended the life of the woman he loved and his unborn son. It had been crippling, so much so that it had taken a hell of a long time for him to function. Work had been his savior.
He had plunged himself into building the business to block out the nightmares and guilt. He had gone through therapy for months before it finally registered that he was not to blame. That he could think of it without breaking down. But sometimes, like now, it would hit him, reminding him that he was not fully healed.