The Lone Star Collection Page 16

  “You haven’t looked at the file,” Amanda said.

  “I’ve…I’m just…transporting you back…for other detectives.” She suddenly regretted putting acceptance by her peers ahead of her usual attention to details. One of the reasons she’d gotten the job was because of her excellent investigative skills. First assignment out of the gate and she’d failed to follow through.

  “Well, let me assure you, detective, that I’d never take advantage of any elderly person, much less drain her entire bank account. My grandmother taught me better than that. So this whole case is BS.”

  Amanda’s steely gaze didn’t waver, and Cass believed her, not just thought she might be telling the truth, but totally believed her. Cass was a competent, veteran police officer who’d worked her way up to the prestigious homicide squad and wasn’t easily duped, but after just minutes with this woman, she’d started questioning a fellow detective’s case. This was not a good beginning to her career in the detective division. She’d be booted out before she was assigned her first solo case.

  She struggled for a response that didn’t sound like another platitude. “Look, I don’t really know you, and like I said, this isn’t my case, so—”

  “So, I’m just out of luck?”

  “No, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Tomorrow my partner and I will transport you back to Greensboro, and you can talk with the lead detective. He’ll go over all the details with you.” She rose from the stool and started to place the phone back on the wall holder. The small space and this woman were getting to her.

  “Wait. At least tell me you believe me.” Amanda’s tone sounded desperate mingled with a touch of hope. “Please.”

  Cass waved the folder in the air. “The facts will speak for themselves,” she said, returning the phone to the cradle. She pounded on the exit door, unable to look at Amanda Greenwood’s gorgeous, pleading face.

  †

  The next day Cass tried to stay ahead of Amanda Greenwood as they sprinted through the Dallas-Fort Worth airport toward their departure gate. When they’d checked her out of the holding facility earlier, she’d been transformed from an attractive woman wearing a non-flattering, discolored white jumpsuit to a gorgeous woman in skinny jeans, a tank top, no bra, and boots with just enough heel to slightly lift her tight ass and attract maximum attention. Her black leather jacket that would’ve help conceal some of her firm upper body and tempting skin was draped over her hands to conceal the most telling bit of the package—handcuffs.

  Cass glanced back, and Amanda stretched her long legs to keep up, leaving Ed to bring up the rear as they dodged people tugging suitcases and computer bags. The discharge paperwork had taken longer than usual at the jail due to a heavy court docket, and they’d gotten to the airport later than Ed wanted. The gate agent was closing the boarding doors as they hurried toward it.

  “We’re here…” Ed puffed, “with our prisoner.”

  “I was about to give up on you folks,” the agent said while scanning their boarding passes and waving them through. “Last row, left side, your guest in the window seat please.”

  “Ed, you want the middle?” she asked as they walked down the jet bridge.

  “No chance. I’m sleeping unless you need me. Long night.”

  “Damn,” Cass mumbled under her breath. Amanda should probably sit closer to Ed as senior detective, and Cass was about to tell him so, but when she saw the state of him this morning, it was obvious he’d spent more of the night in a bar than a bed. He looked as green and queasy as she expected to be once they left the ground. “Perfect.”

  While Amanda slid across to the window seat, Ed whispered to Cass, “At least she’s decent looking. Maybe she’ll hold your head while you puke.”

  “Who’s going to hold yours? Rough night, stud?”

  He grinned and took the aisle seat beside her. “Rough, but good and so worth it.”

  She sat down, buckled her seatbelt, pulled the airline magazine from the seat pocket, and thumbed to the Sudoku puzzles, anything to avoid eye contact or conversation with Amanda Greenwood and keep her mind off the inevitability of flight.

  Amanda leaned across her seat and said, “You look very nice today, detective, with the color back in your cheeks. The pink compliments your blond hair.” She glanced sideways at Cass and feigned shyness. “Am I allowed to compliment a police officer?”

  The sudden powering up of the jet engines created a lump in Cass’s throat, and she couldn’t speak. She clutched the armrests on both sides and looked straight ahead.

  “Are you okay?” Amanda moved her joined hands toward Cass’s, but stopped when Cass shook her head. “Dislike flying?”

  “Understatement.” She shut her eyes tightly at the sporadic throttling up and down of the engines as the plane taxied toward the departure runway.

  “I’ve got you. Don’t worry, Cass. You’ll be fine. I’ve flown hundreds of times, and it’s really safer than driving on an interstate.”

  The repetitive thumping of plane tires on the runway suddenly stopped, the engine screamed, and the jet surged forward and left the ground. “Jeez.” Cass sucked in a deep breath and held it, pressing one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach.

  “Did you eat breakfast this morning?”

  “What?”

  “Having a heavy breakfast with lots of grease and salt is absolutely the worst possible thing you can do if you get queasy flying.” Amanda stared at her, waiting for an answer.

  Cass nodded, released her breath, and said, “Ed insisted on eggs, bacon, and toast.”

  “Salt dehydrates you, which is only exasperated by flying. And the grease. You figure it out.” Amanda looked past Cass to where Ed sat, head back against the headrest, mouth-gaping, snoring. “Flying obviously doesn’t bother him. Sorry, Cass.”

  For a second, Cass considered saying it was inappropriate for Amanda to call her by her first name and confusing for her to show concern for her captor, but couldn’t divert any energy from her fear of crashing in a ball of flames. “Yeah.”

  “The back of the plane is also the bumpiest place too, but I realize that’s where all the undesirables go, crying babies, prisoners, and potential drunks.”

  “If you’re trying to help, it’s not working.” Cass wiped her damp forehead on her sleeve and realized she was freezing. “How do you know all this stuff about flying?”

  “I’ve been all over the world with my gran. She was a journalist and let me travel with her once I was old enough.”

  Cass didn’t want to hear about Amanda’s life before the arrest, because a small part of her already knew she’d like her. A well-traveled, smart, attractive woman who accompanied her grandmother on journalism jobs didn’t strike Cass as a person who’d scam old folks out of their life savings. The less Cass knew, the better off she’d be when she handed Amanda over. The plane’s sudden dip brought her back to her more pressing problem—survival.

  “Are you all right? You’ve suddenly gone pale.”

  Cass looked away from Amanda and pulled for breath.

  “Open the overhead vents and direct the air toward you. It’ll help with the sweats and at least give the impression of being in a breeze outside.” When Cass didn’t react, Amanda slid her jacket back enough to reveal the handcuffs. “I’d help, but…”

  Cass released her grip on the right armrest, still firmly clinging to the left, and did as Amanda instructed. The sudden frigid blast was both shocking and welcome, and she sucked in the cooling stream like a drowning woman gasping for air.

  “You’re going to be fine as soon as we level off. Just look straight ahead and focus on my voice.”

  Cass closed her eyes tightly and felt like she started to spin.

  “Look straight ahead,” Amanda repeated more forcefully. When Cass complied, she continued, “The last trip I took with my grandmother was to Kenya. She finally agreed to take a vacation and invited me along. We spent eight glorious days on photo safari shuffling betwe
en resorts and campsites in the Maasai Mara, the Kenyan portion of the Serengeti. It was so beautiful. The open spaces, four of the big five, meals under the stars, and animal sounds that made me want to seek out every creature and identify its particular call.”

  “Big five?”

  “Elephant, black rhino, cape buffalo, lion, and leopard.”

  “And you saw all of them?”

  “Except the leopard. We searched for days with no luck.”

  Cass listened to the soft, slow cadence of Amanda’s voice as she described the sights and sounds of Africa, losing track of time, imagining the scenes and the two of them anywhere but on a plane headed to jail. Something about having Amanda next to her was comforting and exciting in a way she hadn’t experienced with another woman. Amanda pressed her shoulder casually against Cass’s, and she leaned into the connection until she sensed a shift in the plane’s direction.

  The pressure in her ears built and Amanda’s voice faded. “Oh, crap.” Cass pressed a hand against her stomach and another to her head. She wasn’t sure which was more unsettled.

  “We’re climbing again. Do you have a headache?”

  “Little one.”

  “And queasy stomach?”

  Cass nodded.

  “Press the call button.”

  Cass gave her a skeptical look but finally hit the attendant button. “Why?”

  “You’ll see. When the flight attendant arrives, ask for ginger ale. I doubt she’ll take an order from a handcuffed prisoner.”

  The attendant placed a cup of ice and a can of ginger ale on the tray, and Cass poured half into the cup and started to take a big gulp.

  “Take sips at first to see how it settles in your stomach. If it doesn’t work, you’ll have less to throw up, and less is definitely better in that department. Am I right?” Amanda smiled and her face glowed under the overhead light, her gray eyes focused entirely on Cass’s face as if she was the most important thing in her life.

  Cass took a couple of sips and breathed a little easier when she didn’t feel like hurling. “Thanks. That’s not bad.”

  “When we start down, I have another trick that might help. In the meantime, tell me about yourself, Detective Jeeters, starting with how often you’re ribbed about your name.” A shock of Amanda’s gray-streaked hair fell across her right eye, and she blew at it.

  “I’d outlived most of the flack…until yesterday. I’m sure Detective Dudley won’t ever let me or anyone else forget my first flight.”

  Amanda lightly touched her hand but pulled back when Cass flinched. “Sorry. People are cruel sometimes in the name of fun.” She tried to brush her hair back but the handcuffs held her hands at an awkward angle facing each other. “Would you mind? It drives me crazy.”

  Cass stared at her for several seconds, her professional voice arguing for her to keep her distance and her personal one urging her to reach out. She wanted to touch Amanda more than she cared to admit, feeling drawn to her kindness. When the stillness between them became awkward, Cass reached over and combed the strands of hair away from Amanda’s forehead, registering the thick texture as they sifted through her fingers. As she withdrew, her hand inadvertently touched Amanda’s face and for a second, that seemed to stretch into several, Amanda leaned in and rested against her palm. Her skin was smooth and her cheeks colored lightly when their eyes met. Warmth shot through Cass, and everything else around her vanished. Her stomach roiled again but for a totally different reason.

  “Thank you,” Amanda whispered.

  Her words brought Cass back to their current situation, and she lowered her hand slowly. She’d crossed a line, a small one, but still a line. Part of her was appalled but a larger part still thrilled at the lingering effects of their touch. Before she could analyze exactly what had happened, the plane began a quick descent and her queasiness returned full force. She clutched the armrests again and planted her feet firmly on the seat rails in front of her.

  “Let me help you, Cass,” Amanda said, reaching for her hand.

  “No. I’m fine.” She jerked away too quickly, certain Amanda could see the real reason for her discomfort.

  “Don’t be silly. Let me help.” She lightly captured Cass’s right hand and pressed a finger about two inches below the crease of her wrist.

  Cass’s nausea slowly lessened. “What did you do?”

  “Pressure point. Just relax. We’ll be on the ground in a few minutes.”

  “What the fuck are you doing, Jeeters?” Ed’s dark brown eyes bored into her. “Never, and I do mean never, let a prisoner touch you like that. Got it?”

  “She was just—”

  “I don’t give a fat rat’s ass. She’s playing you, but you’re too green to see it.”

  The plane’s wheels landed hard against the tarmac, and Cass felt her career in the homicide squad skidding to an equally rough stop.

  Cass didn’t attempt to pull away when Amanda covered their joined hands under her leather jacket until the plane parked at the gate and they rose to leave. An unspoken connection had formed between them, one that could never be explored, but one neither seemed anxious to have end.

  The drive to the county jail and the check-in procedure were completed in silence except for Ed’s clipped instructions to the deputy who eventually took charge of Amanda. Cass watched her disappear through the series of doorways, glancing back each time to make eye contact.

  As Ed drove back to the office, Cass said, “Amanda told me her story. What do you think the chances are that she’s innocent?”

  “Not likely. Every criminal has a sob story. Don’t get dragged into it, no matter how gorgeous she is. Got it, rookie?”

  She nodded, wondering if it was already too late.

  Two days later, Cass dropped off a suspect she’d arrested for felony assault at the county jail and was walking toward her car, heading home for a four-day weekend when she heard running footsteps behind her.

  “Hey, wait up, detective.”

  She recognized Amanda Greenwood’s voice and took several deep breaths before turning to face her. She’d fallen asleep several nights thinking about Amanda’s smooth skin, the gray tint of her eyes, the thick texture of her hair, and that husky voice, never imagining she’d see her again. “Break out of jail, Greenwood?” She tried for levity even though her heart was pounding.

  “Time off for good behavior.” Amanda teased, coming alongside and matching her pace.

  “Seriously, what happened?”

  Amanda grabbed her chest. “I’m crushed you haven’t been checking on me every day.”

  Cass stopped beside her car. “I’m…” How could she explain that she’d wanted to but it would’ve been considered a conflict and might’ve jeopardized her job if her interest interfered with the case. Amanda placed her hand lightly on Cass’s arm, reminding her of the flight home and how calming that touch had been.

  “I understand, Cass. I was kidding, mostly.”

  “What did happen with your case?”

  Amanda gave her a megawatt smile. “Dismissed. The elderly lady who filed the charges had me confused with her housekeeper. We look somewhat alike, if you’re elderly, don’t see well, and the photo used in the lineup is an old Polaroid.”

  “But how did she even know you?”

  “I volunteer with the American Cancer Society and drive patients to the hospital for radiation and chemo treatments. When the police brought her in for the physical lineup, she practically hugged me to death and told the detectives they were a bunch of buffoons for getting the wrong person. I got sprung about an hour ago.”

  Cass liked Amanda even more after the Cancer Society thing, and the nagging feeling that her gut had been wrong about Amanda suddenly righted. “So, what now?”

  “Going back to Texas to finalize my grandmother’s estate. That’s why I was there in the first place. Then I’ll come home…here…to Greensboro.” She stepped closer to Cass and met her gaze. “Any chance you’d want to fly back with m
e?”

  “Not likely.”

  “Unless I misread your signals, we have a lot to talk about. Road trip?”

  For a second, Cass couldn’t believe she was actually thinking about spending more time with Amanda, but she was well beyond considering it. She grabbed the waistband of Amanda’s jeans and pulled them together. “Best way to get to know someone.” When Amanda’s lips met hers, she knew she’d made the right decision.

  About the Author

  VK Powell

  VK Powell grew up in a small tobacco-farming town near the east coast with three brothers. Ironically, she didn’t smoke, never learned to swim, and played cops and robbers way too much—perhaps contributing to her future career in law enforcement. At twenty, VK left home to pursue the job that would always be challenging and never boring. Her mother referred to it as the day she “ran away from home.”

  A thirty-year veteran of a mid-sized police department, VK’s police career spanned numerous positions including beat officer, homicide detective, field sergeant, vice/narcotics lieutenant, district captain, and assistant chief of police. Now retired, she devotes her time to her first and second loves—writing and traveling.

  Under the West Texas Stars

  Yvette Murray

  Day One

  “Hi yo, Xena!” Sandy Randle whooped, shifting her hunky F-350 into four-wheel drive. After so many months of dreaming about this trip to Big Bend, I’m finally here—four days of camping and rock hunting on Needle Peak. Yahoo!

  Xena’s engine roared as Sandy deftly maneuvered the big truck along the primitive ranch road toward the summit of the 4,000 foot mountain. Prominent outcroppings of dark, burgundy basalt along the roadside hinted at the mountain’s volcanic birth. The fiery forces that shaped Needle Peak also created beautiful pompom agate. Sandy was looking forward to collecting some colorful specimens.

  The rough trail ended at a broad, bowl-shaped area near the top of the extinct volcano. Sandy hesitated, surveying the campgrounds. Several sites were already occupied including one with an old canvas Army tent. Beside the faded green tent, a horse trailer loaded with firewood, ice chests, and other supplies was hitched to a battered Chevy pickup. The sign on the side of the trailer advertised Needle Peak Tours. That must be the rancher owners’ campsite. I’d better check-in with them.