Cold Hearted (Cold Justice Book 6) (43 page)

She tensed, but after a few minutes, she found the tension easing.

“I guess we need to finish the drywall now we’re up here,” her youngest brother complained.

“I’m selling it,” she said quietly. “If you could help me get it ready for that, I’d be grateful.”

A shocked silence followed, but her brothers looked gleeful. Her mom touched her free hand. “Are you coming home, love?”

Erin looked into Darsh’s deep dark eyes. “Yes. A new home with this man. In Virginia.”

“But you guys have only just met…” her dad argued.

Darsh smiled. “Look, I know you guys are worried. I know what she went through with her dickhead ex, and that is never going to happen again. You guys can come and stay with us whenever you want.”

“You’re going to live together?” Her mother sounded horrified.

“Mom,” she complained. “I’m thirty-two!”

“What religion are you?” Her mother prodded Darsh.

“Mom!” Erin didn’t even know what religion he was, because it didn’t matter.

Darsh raised a brow. “What religion would you like me to be?”

Her mother’s lips twitched at that.

Her other brother muttered, “Good answer.”

“You know the first wedding didn’t count?” her mother continued while Erin wished she could just pretend to fall through a big hole in the floor. “They got married in the courthouse without us.”

Erin cut in. “We’re not getting married—”

“Yet,” Darsh added.

Erin grabbed his hand. “Don’t encourage her. She’s incorrigible.”

“I’m your mother.”

“God help me.”

“Don’t blaspheme, Erin Mairead Donovan,” her mother admonished.

Erin rolled her eyes and turned to the man who had saved her life in more ways than one. “So, this is a small part of my crazy family,” she said brightly. “Still game?”

“Always.” He bent down and kissed her softly on the lips despite her family watching. “And forever.”

D
arsh walked into
the church and searched the aisles for a familiar head of blonde hair. He’d had to go back to work in Quantico earlier in the week, but he’d returned to Forbes Pines for this. Erin was recuperating and had refused to do that in Virginia. Stubborn didn’t begin to cover it. Thankfully, her parents had stayed with her so he hadn’t worried too much. Her house was already up for sale, and he’d cleaned out most of his walk-in closet and half of the drawers, ready for her belongings.

He spotted her on the far right-hand side of the church. She was sitting alone, away even from the other cops. She’d accepted her reinstatement with the proviso she was transferring just as soon as she could arrange a suitable post. Beat the hell out of getting fired.

He slid in beside her, his hip touching hers. Her eyes shot to his, and he could tell she was barely holding on to her composure. Her hand clamped around his. “You came. Thank you.”

He kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand. She’d lost more weight, and he was worried about her.

The minister started the sermon. Her eyes swiveled front and center.

The casket was shiny black and had a large picture of Mandy Wochikowski placed upon it. The girl was smiling, and the sight of her as a living breathing person hit him in the chest and reminded him why he did what he did. Not for the guts, not for the glory, but for the victims.

His eyes scanned the room. Tanya Whitehouse and Alicia Drummond sat up front near Mandy’s and Cassandra Bressinger’s parents. Cassie’s funeral was scheduled for next Monday. He’d arranged to work from home tomorrow and fly back on Tuesday. He was hoping Erin would come with him.

A tiny figure sat between her parents near the front of the left-hand side of the church.

“Is that Rachel?” Darsh leaned down and whispered in Erin’s ear.

“She got out of the hospital two days ago.” She nodded. “Look who’s sitting behind her.” She nudged his arm.

At first Darsh didn’t recognize the row of broad-shouldered suits who were stacked up behind the Knight family. Then he caught a profile and realized it was Jason Brady. Staring harder he realized the entire Blackcombe Raven’s football team was sitting there in silent mourning.

Erin touched his knee. “See who’s in the middle of that huddle?”

At first he didn’t. Then he sat up straighter. “Drew Hawke?”

“They transferred him to a minimum security facility and gave him a day release for the funeral.” She glanced at him from under her lashes. “The president got involved. There’s talk of a hearing next week and possibly a pardon.”

“Hague?” His brows shot up. He wondered if ASAC Frazer had had a hand in manipulating things considering he and Jed Brennan had a special “in” with the man in the White House.

She nodded. “I need to apologize to him.”

“You did your job, Erin. Lachlan and the system screwed him over. Hopefully defense attorneys will work a little harder to earn their fees in the future.”

Erin stayed quiet, and he knew she found it hard to forgive herself for arresting the wrong guy.

The service ended, and the pall bearers lifted the coffin and walked it out of the front door to the waiting hearse. Darsh went to stand, but Erin grabbed his sleeve. “What?” he asked.

“I’m not going to the interment.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to create a scene.”

People were following the coffin out the door. Alicia, Tanya, Mandy’s and Cassie’s parents. They shot hostile glances at Erin, and she just silently watched them. The Knights came next. He assumed Rachel would walk on by, given the occasion, but her footsteps slowed and then stopped.

“Would you like a ride in our car, Erin?” she asked quietly.

The cuts around her mouth were healing, but the skin was still red and discolored.

Erin shook her head, eyes flickering to the hulking shadows gathering behind the petite girl. “I drove, but thank you.”

Rachel didn’t look bothered by her massive entourage. She looked Darsh in the eye, then back to Erin. “I’d like to talk to you when you get the chance.” No more timid mouse.

Erin nodded.

The glances the players were sending her were pissed, though. Darsh braced himself for trouble; he really didn’t want to get into it at a funeral service. Ully Mason and some of the other cops were making their way towards them, but there was a large group of mourners separating them from Erin. Darsh angled himself slightly in front of her, ready for anything.

Drew Hawke pushed between the massive suit-clad shoulders of his teammates. His hair was freshly trimmed. Jaw clean-shaven. His gaze went from Erin to Rachel and to his team.

“Can I catch a ride to the cemetery with you, Detective? I was hoping to talk,” he asked.

Erin went even paler than before, but nodded. “Sure.”

Hawke slid into their pew. Darsh watched him give Jason Brady a nod, and the wide receiver hustled the other players outside. Hawke and Erin sat while the rest of the mourners filed slowly past. Ully raised his brows in question, and Darsh pulled a face back. It was obvious Hawke wanted to talk and, although Erin could look after herself, he wasn’t about to let her get hurt by anyone else ever again.

So there they sat. Finally the church was empty except for the three of them.

“I owe you an apology,” she began.

Hawke stared at the floor but shook his head. “That’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”

She stopped, clearly uncertain what to say.

“I’ve thought about this a lot.” His lips quirked into a quick smile. “I certainly had time.”

Erin’s eyes widened.

“The thing is, you were as much a victim as the rest of us. The guy fixated on you, stalked you, and basically tried to seduce you with a crime wave.” He turned and faced her. “He was a sick bastard, and we shouldn’t have taunted him.” Those massive shoulders shrugged. “You were just doing your job.”

Her hands twisted in her lap. “I should have done it better.”

“And I shouldn’t have been an obnoxious jock.” He quirked his brows. “Learn from your mistakes, become a better cop, but don’t blame yourself. I mean I get it—I’ll always blame myself for Cassie’s death even though I wasn’t there, but…” Tears crowded his eyes. “Rachel told me—”

“You’ve been talking to Rachel?” she asked quickly.

He nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “She told me how much you helped her.” He swallowed thickly. “I know I was falsely accused and that that’s rare. Very rare. But she’s planning on visiting some campuses, talking to people about our story. Talking to victims. She’s asked me to come with her.”

Darsh blinked.

Hawke looked uncomfortable. “She thinks I’d raise the profile. She thinks that seeing the two of us on stage together, both victims, might be a way of changing the conversation about college rape. I can tell guys what they shouldn’t be doing, what’s unacceptable, and what it’s like in prison. She can tell women what to do if they are raped.” He huffed out a breath. “Frankly, the idea scares the shit out of me. But when I think about what she went through, what Cassie went through.” He rubbed his thumbs over one another in a nervous gesture. “I was trying to think what she’d want me to do.”

“Not talk to me.” Erin snorted gently.

Hawke smiled at that. “Probably not. But she was always watching out for her friends. Always lecturing them on guarding their drink. She’d be up for this plan, I think, especially after what happened to her.” The sheen of tears glazed his eyes. “Rachel wants to ask you to come with us when we do our talks.”

“Me?” Erin’s mouth dropped open. “The cop who arrested the wrong guy?”

“The cop who wasn’t afraid to go after the star quarterback, even though it made her the most hated woman in town. The cop who was the victim of a stalker.”

Erin shifted uncomfortably. Darsh knew she hated being seen as a victim, but it didn’t change the facts.

“I know our situation isn’t ordinary. I know this isn’t normal,” he offered. “I just think it’s an opportunity, and after where I’ve spent the last six months of my life, I don’t intend to let opportunities pass me by.” He climbed to his feet and stuck his hand out to Erin, who stood and shook it. “Call Rachel. Talk to her about it.” Hawke turned to Darsh and held his hand out to him, too. “Agent Singh.” The quarterback angled his head.

“Mr. Hawke,” Darsh acknowledged.

“I hear you shot Rick Lachlan. I’m sorry you have to carry the burden of his death, but I can’t say I’m sorry the fucker is dead.”

“Trust me.” Darsh hadn’t lost a wink of sleep over Lachlan. “There’s no burden.”

“Warden said I had you to thank for keeping me in solitary. I appreciate it.”

“No worries.” Darsh checked his watch. “We should head to the cemetery.”

They followed Hawke outside. The way he stood on the front steps and breathed deeply, said just how much he appreciated his newfound freedom.

“Did you know Mandy had a crush on Lachlan?” Hawke said unexpectedly.

“What?” Erin asked, shocked.

“Yeah. Cassie told me about it in one of her letters. And the bastard killed her.” Hawke’s shoulders shook. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and slipped them on. Then he started walking away.

“What about that ride?” Darsh called after him.

The guy raised his hand. “I’m gonna walk.”

Darsh stared after Drew, and Erin entwined her fingers in his.

“He’s a pretty special young man.” She looked stricken. “And if it wasn’t for Lachlan committing more crimes, he might never have been released. He’d still be in prison.”

Darsh knew it was going to take time to get over the guilt. “I think you should do it. Go do a few talks with him and Rachel.”

“Really?”

He pushed the hair off her brow and leaned down to kiss her. “Yeah. I think it’s a great opportunity.”

“More people to throw eggs at me.”

He growled. “You’re right, don’t do it.”

She hugged his arm, and they started walking to her rental car. He’d taken a cab from the airport. “I’ll think about it, if Rachel wants me to.”

“You gonna come home with me next week?” he asked.

She hugged him tighter. “Still want me to move in?”

“More than anything. You won’t lack for job opportunities, but I don’t think it would be a bad thing if you took some time to really figure out what you want to do.”

She stopped walking. “I’m not good at doing nothing.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “There’s always cleaning the house and getting dinner on the table.”

She punched him in the stomach.

“Joking.” He laughed.

“Yes.” She gripped his shirt and rose up on tiptoes to kiss his mouth. “I love you, Darsh Singh. I want to live with you and see if the sex is still great after a couple of months.”

“I guarantee it will be.” He swung her off her feet. “How about we go test it out? Make sure we didn’t miscalculate? Don’t want to rush into anything—”

She snorted. “With my mother in the house?”

Darsh pulled a face. “We could check into a hotel.”

She gave him a dirty grin. “Seriously?”

He checked his watch. “How long do we have until she gets suspicious?”