Chapter Thirteen
San Diego, California
“I need to work,” Kit said as Sam tugged her out of the elevator on his parents’ floor of their building.
Her voice was thin and high, far from normal for his confident detective.
“I have to find Nicchi and Paolo. I have to find out who the second Japanese man was and what was in the envelope that he gave to Nicchi. I don’t have time to see your folks right now. Maybe later.”
Sam stopped in the hallway. “Kit,” he said softly, tipping up her chin so that she met his eyes. She looked as terrified as she sounded. “Why are you scared of my parents?”
She swallowed hard, looking lost and…young. “I’m not.”
He waited silently.
She sighed. “Okay, I am. I haven’t been this scared in months.”
“You were shot three days ago,” he said dryly.
“I said what I said.”
“What scared you months ago?”
Her eyes closed. “You. Getting close to you.”
Which was exactly what he’d expected her to say.
“Kit.” He let go of her hand and cupped her face, knowing he’d done the right thing when she leaned into his touch.
This woman was touch-starved, and he was afraid to give her too much too quickly.
It would send her running, and that was the last thing he wanted her to do.
He kissed her then, keeping it chaste even though he wanted so much more. Patience. He had to have patience.
She was worth it.
And, as he kissed her, he could feel her tension ebb. She hummed quietly when he pulled back just far enough to see her eyes when they opened.
“You always know the right thing to say,” she murmured.
He smiled. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Not with words. You’re good at both, though.” She dropped her head, her forehead resting on his chest. “What if they don’t like me?”
“They will.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then I’ll still like you.”
Her snort of laughter was unladylike and so very Kit.
“You’re the cheesiest man.” She heaved a heavy sigh.
“This is important. They are important. They love you and always have. Mom and Pop love me, I know that. But I didn’t have the same childhood you did.
It messed me up, Sam. Made me suspicious and sometimes even…
mean. But you grew up secure. You’re never mean. You’re…perfect.”
His heart hurt. That she could think herself mean when she had the biggest heart of anyone he knew. But she wasn’t ready to address that truth yet. “I am not perfect.”
She looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears that shocked him. “You are. Everyone says so. And I’m just…me.”
He touched the edges of her eyes with his fingertips, gathering her tears before they had a chance to fall.
“I like you.” I love you. “Just you.” He kissed her again, gratified when she melted into him.
“You’re going to be scared until you get this over with, just like our first date. And our second.”
She hiccupped a laugh. “And the third.”
“Which was, mercifully, homicide-free.” A week ago, they’d gone to a movie that he hadn’t paid attention to.
He’d had eyes only for her. Then he’d made her dinner, and they’d snuggled on his sofa.
There was kissing, but nothing more. She was the strongest woman he knew—and at the same time, the most fragile.
She was a gift, and he’d take his time showing her how he saw her.
She smiled, a tremulous thing. “Full disclosure, I wished for a dead body or two. All three times.”
He smiled. “I know you did. Time to rip off the Band-Aid, Kitty-Cat.”
She rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m ready now. Thank you for always knowing what I need, even when I don’t.”
She turned to the door, leaving him stunned in the best of ways. Suddenly she was calm, and he was the nervous one.
Not because he thought his parents would be anything but kind to her. They were wonderful people.
But because, like Kit said, this was important.
He wanted the people he loved to like each other.
His mother opened the door before they could knock. She had a soft look on her face that could only mean she’d been watching them through the peephole. She’d seen the kisses. And Kit’s tears.
Sam hoped Kit didn’t figure that out.
Beside him, Kit made a face and gestured to the elevator. “Sorry. I was nervous.”
So she knew she’d been seen. Fantastic.
“I understand,” his mother said, taking Kit’s hand. “Betsy warned me that you might be a little nervous.”
Kit glanced up at Sam sharply before returning her attention to his mother. “You know my mother?”
Ann Reeves smiled, as if unaware she’d waded into a lake filled with alligators. “Of course. We’ve been talking for a few months now.”
“I…” Kit shook her head. “I did not know that.”
“Well, you do now.” Ann tugged Kit into the living room. “Clearly I did not teach my son manners. I’m Ann, Sam’s mom.”
Kit smiled at her. “I figured that out. And he has very nice manners, so you shouldn’t worry. I’m Kit, but I think you figured that out, too.”
“Welcome, Kit. We’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time.”
“Oh.” Kit glanced up at Sam again, and he was relieved to see humor dancing in her eyes. “So no pressure.”
“None at all,” Sam replied.
He followed her into his parents’ condo and closed the door, breathing in the aroma of something delicious. Beef stir-fry, maybe. Whatever it was, either his father had made it or they’d ordered in.
He hadn’t been kidding when he told Kit that his mother didn’t cook. Unlike Kit, who could probably cook if she cared enough to try, his mother continually tried and failed.
His father was coming to his feet, his smile quiet but broad. “I’m Bill,” he said to Kit. “I’d hug you, but I hear you’re not comfortable with that, so I won’t. But know that I would if you’d let me.”
Kit chuckled and, squaring her shoulders, held out her arms to his father. “Consider this consent.”
His father folded her into his arms and winked at Sam over her head. “See? We can play nice, Sammy.” He let Kit go quickly and Kit exhaled. “Thank you,” he added quietly. “But you really don’t have to be anyone but yourself with us.”
“New me,” she said. “I’m trying. But since you talk to my mother regularly, you probably know that.”
Ann grinned. “Yep. Come, sit down. Let’s chat for just a minute. I know you’re working on a big case.”
Kit sat on the sofa next to his father. “My mother told you?”
“We talked about it,” Ann said, taking the chair she always sat in. It was the same brand, model, and color of the chair she had in Scottsdale. His mother knew what she liked. “I called her when I saw it on the news. Internet, you know.”
Kit looked at Sam, who’d sat beside her on the sofa. “We made the news?”
He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t know. She tended not to pay attention to the media unless they could be useful to her on a case. “You got shot, Kit. What did you think would happen?”
“What do they know?” she asked Ann.
His mother began counting on her fingers.
“That you were paying a visit to Mary Sherman with your sister Akiko and your ‘boyfriend.’ ” She used air quotes to emphasize the word, looking very pleased.
“That you got shot, and then two other detectives were shot and hospitalized, and you got shot at a second time. Oh, and that there was a shootout in the street and that both shooters have eluded the SDPD. Is that all, Bill?”
“I’d say you have it covered, dear.”
“There was no mention of Akiko’s relationship with Mary Sherman?”
Ann shook her head, a flicker of surprise her only outward acknowledgment of Kit’s question. “And your mother didn’t tell me. I didn’t ask, either. I only called to see how she was doing and ask if we could help. It seemed…painful for her.”
“Oh.” Kit looked up at Sam. “My mother’s hurting?”
“For Akiko, I think,” Sam said. “Not because it involves her bio family.”
“The victim was Akiko’s biological aunt,” Kit explained. “It’s been a difficult time, learning about her past. About family she didn’t know she had.”
Bill patted Kit’s shoulder. “And for you, too, I’d imagine. Must be hard to see your sister upset and confused.”
Kit smiled at his father. “Sam comes by his empathy honestly.” She turned that smile on his mother. “From both of you. Thank you for checking on my mother.”
“You’re very welcome.” Ann took out her phone and began to scroll. “Here’s the article, if you— Oh.” She frowned. “Here’s a new one. I, um, I don’t think you’re going to like this one. It says you were suspended.”
Kit scowled. “I was.” She held out her hand. “May I?”
Ann gave it over without a second thought. “I’m sorry that I mentioned it.”
“It’s true, so don’t be. Better to know what’s being said, I guess.” Kit’s scowl deepened when she saw the screen. She tilted it so that Sam could read it.
He put his arm around her shoulders, wanting to punch someone when he saw the byline. “Tamsin Kavanaugh.”
Or Tamsin Fucking Kavanaugh, as Kit had renamed her. But his mother didn’t like it when he swore, so he full-named the reporter only in his mind.
“Of course it’d be her,” Kit said quietly.
“Not your favorite reporter, eh?” Bill said.
That was putting it mildly. The reporter had some kind of bone to pick with Kit because she wouldn’t give her exclusives. As if.
“She’s kind of obsessed with me,” Kit said. “Sometimes she follows me when she needs a story.”
The woman was a menace. “How did she find out you were suspended?” Sam read on and growled. “She cites someone inside the SDPD as her source. Who told her?”
“My bet’s on West. He looked very happy when I came out of Navarro’s office. Oh, and look. An update to the article. You have a new partner since I’ve been ‘kicked to the curb.’ That didn’t take her long. She followed us to Leo Sherman’s office.”
Kavanaugh had posted a photo of Sam opening the door for Detective Lennox as they’d entered the surgeon’s office, sounding almost gleeful that Kit had been “kicked to the curb” and wondering if that meant their personal relationship was also “dead on arrival.”