Page 19 of Protect My Heart

CJ’s reaction tonight solidified her choice to keep her family out of the business with her father. Sure, she would have to tell her mother that her father was dead, but her mother didn’t need to know about Liz picking up his effects. And certainly not the crank call. Mami would freak out, and the last thing Liz needed was her pint-sized Boricua mother coming to her rescue. Rosa was a strong woman. With her father’s transfers and deployments, she left her office job and took up cleaning homes. The money was good and it offered flexibility for a woman with two small children. Liz was so proud of her mother. She eventually got her business degree and started her own cleaning business. She raised her daughter to be an independent woman, but her tiny mother could and would kick anyone’s ass who threatened her daughter.

A wave of loneliness washed over Liz as she pulled up the bedcovers. She missed her mother, but she would be lying to herself if she claimed that was the only reason.

The kiss. She never should have let her lips anywhere near Detective Jim Swenson. That man was addictive. When she heard CJ behind Jim, she panicked. All would have been fine if he hadn’t gone all protective big cousin on her. It really put her independent spirit into high gear. One good thing that came from her colossal miscalculation was the fact it worked as a great diversion. CJ hadn’t suspected anything when it came to her father or the crank call. If only she had thought of the repercussions. Her racing heart. Damn, that man could kiss.

Snippets of the day played in her head. The near miss by the truck, the crank call––something about the call gnawed at her. Did you get the package?

There was a package kicking around her back seat but it wasn’t from the prison. Could they be referring to that? She shook the craziness from her mind. No, the package was the new sexy nightgown she ordered from Nordstrom before she found out Tory was cheating. She’d open it but not now. Looking at the scrapes of lace and silk would be a slap in the face, reminding her how clueless she’d been in her last relationship. If anything showed up related to the call, she’d tell Jim.

Jim. Her lip twitched at the thought of him. The sweet way he bought her ice cream. Oh, she had seen the panic in his face when she turned misty eyed. Her lip hitched up.

And the way he worked the case. He was a good cop, and she couldn’t fault him for that. But the one memory that had her tossing and tangling in her satin sheets was the heat of his mouth and the taste of his tongue as he teased hers for the briefest of seconds.

When her alarm sounded the next morning, Liz was so lost in the dreams of a cranky cop that she pushed her phone on the floor in an attempt to turn off the God-awful noise.

“Crap.” She flung back the covers and with a final kick to free her legs, she grabbed the loud device and shut off the alarm. A cold draft blew in from the window. To fight the goosebumps forming on her arms, she wrapped the comforter around her shoulders and moved to close the window. “I must have been tired. I don’t remember opening this last night.”

Liz covered her yawn, stumbled into the adjoining bath, and cranked the water to hot. It was Friday, and she wanted to check on Luis before she went to her nail appointment with Joy. Her aunt was a force of nature, and all it took to set off the Joy Whittier tsunami into motion was a hangnail.

The weekend blew by in a mashup of watching hockey and family functions, but the Delie case was never far from Jim’s mind. He checked the station several times but no word on Wilson. The punk was in deep hiding. By Monday morning, the beat cops rustled up a few of Wilson’s known associates. Time for a shakedown.

Six hours later, CJ and Jim walked out of the detention room.

“He’s in the wind,” Jim said, rubbing his neck. The punk had shown up on every corner for months and now he was scarcer than a smiley face sticker at a Judas Priest concert.

“He can’t hide for long. We’ll get him.” CJ dropped a file on his desk before stopping at Jim’s. “I wanted to explain about the other night.”

Jim waited. He had heard it all before. You’re a great guy, but she’s special. Crossing his arms over his chest, giving the illusion of relaxed nonchalance.

“I’m sorry. You’re a great guy, and I shouldn’t have accused you of wrong-doing.”

Jim blinked. Where was the rest of it? The part about him not being good enough. “And?”

“And, Lizzie is right. She is a grown woman, but I’m her cousin, and I will always look out for her. Even before her mom married my uncle, I swore to protect her.” CJ ran his hand through his short dark hair. “She’s special.”

There it was. CJ didn’t have to say it, but Jim could read between the lines. He was beneath her. Just a blue-collar flatfoot. “Don’t worry about it, man. I wasn’t sniffing around her overpriced cashmere-clad bod. Anyway, we have an appointment in an hour with the vic’s family.”

Turning his back to his partner, he closed the door on that conversation. Maybe he should swing by Fire Hearth Bar and Restaurant for a drink and some company tonight.

Who was he kidding? Most likely he would end up at his brother’s watching the game.

He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t handle the thought of listening to his brother, Jordan, brag about how challenging and wonderful his new job was. Jim didn’t know where he would end up that night, but it sure as hell wouldn’t be here. Three late nights last week and a couple pop-ins this weekend to check on the case, yeah, he was ready for a night off.

That night, Jim relaxed in his recliner with a cold beer at his right, and his computer on his lap. The Wild played the Penguins on the big-screen television, but his attention was on the Google search. Doc’s resume on LinkedIn held all the usual information.

“Damn Doc, summa cum laude at Duke University.” Jim mumbled as he scrolled through the pages of her transcripts. “Of course you were at the top of your class. Wouldn’t be anywhere else, now would ya?”

“You didn’t like the cold though, did you?” Attended a southern college for undergrad and her PsyD program then moved to the sunshine state. Jim read through her very impressive resume. “So why’d you come back, Doc?”

The TV erupted with noise pulling his attention to the game. “Yay, Wild! Way to use a power play.”

A yawn came from the floor.

“Did I wake you?” Jim reached over the arm of the chair and scratched the German shorthaired pointer’s head. “Sorry, Tigger.”

Jim gave his dog a long tummy rub before returning to his laptop. Nothing popped in Doc’s online presence. He googled CJ’s uncle, Walt Whittier, and by following the steps found Rosa Garcia and her ex-husband, Patrick O’Roarke. Finally, he was getting somewhere.

He sifted through the old newspaper stories. It felt like an invasion of Doc’s privacy. If he was going to protect her, he needed to know as much about her father as he could. Yeah, he told CJ he wasn’t sniffing around but he couldn’t let her be in danger, and his gut told him this crank call went deeper than a harmless joke. The woman may think she was able to handle it herself, but no way could he sleep at night if he could have helped her and she got hurt.