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Authors: Lynn Crandall

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense

Dancing with Detective Danger (9 page)

BOOK: Dancing with Detective Danger
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“Right!” she said. “You must have forgotten, I’ve heard that before, many times. I saw what my mother went through year after year, worrying if my father would come home for dinner. He told her not to worry. It didn’t mean anything.” Hot tears stung her eyes, but she willed them to stop.

“Sterling, tell me you don’t love me.”

Silence churned between them. How could she tell him that? But could she survive loving him? “You’re trying to change the subject. Love can come and it can go. And it can drive you nuts on a lonely night. Just ask Lacey.”

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded, slamming his fist against the table, his calmness evaporating. “If you loved me, we could deal with the job.”

“I know I thought I could deal with it. Heck, when we met, I was a cop too, just like my dad.”

“Sterling — ”

“It really happens, Ben. Cops get killed. It happened to my mother and it happened to Lacey.” She heard her voice wobble, but she couldn’t stop the angry words. “You know that’s why I had to quit the police force. That’s why I had to break up with you. I don’t want to end up a cop’s widow. I don’t want to be the wreckage left behind.”

Ben shook his head and shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. “Sterling, I’ve changed. I don’t work undercover anymore. You know that. Things are different.”

“You can put on a suit and tie, Ben, but that doesn’t change the man you are. How long will you be content working investigations?”

“It’s been six months.” His brow furrowed.

“I used to warn you to drop your flamboyant ways or you’d end up in the morgue. You and that equally crazy partner of yours, what was his name? Jay Thomas. You always challenged the odds. That’s who you are. Like a fearless warrior — fearless and foolish. It scares me.” Sterling narrowed her eyes and stared at Ben, not quite understanding the sullen look coloring his face.

He turned his back to her, his strong shoulders drooping. “You don’t know, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jay is crippled.”

“What?” A rock the size of a baseball dropped into the pit of her stomach.

“You were right.” Ben turned tormented eyes to her. “We challenged the odds, and you used to say that someday we’d pay. Well, my partner did pay.”

“I didn’t know,” Sterling said, taking Ben’s hand in hers and holding it to her cheek. The weather in the room had suddenly shifted. She couldn’t help but move to console him. “When?”

“Six months ago,” he said, flatly. “We were following a lead for a big drug bust and happened on a domestic dispute. The guy was strung out and the thing went bad. Jay got shot. The bullet hit his knee. His life is never going to be the same. He works a desk job at the department now.”

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” she said, instantly certain of his self-recrimination. Another thing that never changed. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

“You know nothing of the kind.” He spit out the words as though ridding his mouth of a foul taste.

The pain inside him pulsed so strong, Sterling sensed it took all Ben’s energy just to keep breathing in and out. Jay and Ben had been like brothers. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have been there for you.”

“Why would I? You made it clear you didn’t want to be part of my life.” His eyes hardened. “So that’s when I moved to investigations. I knew I didn’t have nine lives and I’d already used up several. I didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s life, although it seems to be my thing in life, doesn’t it?”

She knew he wasn’t talking just about Jay. Sorrow and death had accompanied Ben from youth, just like it had her.

Running the back of his hand across her lips, Sterling closed her eyes and imagined she could will his pain away. “I’ve hurt you so much.” She hadn’t realized until just now that she’d inflicted such a deep, ragged wound.

“You don’t need to blame yourself. You had no idea. Besides, it’s my problem.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Could she ever make up for hurting him so? Last night had been intoxicating — a dream. Today reality set in, warning her to get out quick. To put Ben and all the fearsome possibilities he brought with him in her review mirror. Now, faced with Ben’s bleeding heart, what could she, should she do? “Ben, I — ”

He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it. I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But I want you to be happy too, Sterling. Pity won’t cut it. If you can’t tell me you love me, well, it won’t work, will it?”

Sterling’s heart squeezed painfully, torn between the soft spot in her soul for Ben and the stubborn demand for self-survival driving her. Lowering her gaze to the floor, she stepped out of his arms.

A resigned scowl darkened his face. “So that’s the way it is.” Ben turned to the counter and grabbed a dishtowel. His mental and emotional shift was visible as he squared his shoulders. “Well, I better get these dishes cleaned up or I’ll be late for work.”

Silently, Sterling treaded back to the bedroom and searched for her clothes.

God help me to do the thing I need to do
, she prayed.
I keep hurting him, but I can’t believe being with him is right. It wouldn’t be anything more than a quick fix that would end up badly.

Buttoning up the last button of her blouse, Sterling stared into the bureau mirror.
Put your head on straight. You have a case to solve.

The case. The work. That’s where things would fall into place and she could easily navigate her life without fear of the inevitable and insufferable pain. Working the case was in her blood just as surely as plasma and corpuscles. It was second nature. Something she could fall into wholeheartedly without having to think.

Or feel.

Quietly, Sterling patted Joe’s head and ruffled his ears before she let herself out of Ben’s apartment.

• • •

“How are we coming with that Witt murder?”

Ben’s sergeant’s question pierced his thoughts as he sat behind his desk at the police station. “I’m moving slowly. You know, the guy we like for doing it is pretty well known in certain circles of Laurelwood.”

“What’s his name? Jerry Rutherford? Yeah, of course he’s pretty known.” The sergeant’s gravelly voice spoke of too many years of too many cigarettes. “He’s a top dog at the Laurelwood County State Bank.”

“He and his wife seem to have kept pretty much to themselves, but he’s done his share of public relations, so the community knows him.”

“Why are we focusing on him?” The sergeant patted his pockets but came up empty. “You smoke? I could sure use a cigarette. Course, I’m trying to quit.”

Ben chuckled. How many times had he heard that? “We identified his fingerprints at the scene. According to a private investigator hired by the guy’s wife, he and the victim had been having an affair.”

“What’s the motive?”

“I’m still working on it.” Ben downed a swallow of his lukewarm coffee and frowned. He would be the first to admit that his concentration wasn’t on full. Well, at least not when it came to the investigation. Sterling was an entirely different matter.

“Keep at it.” Distracted, the sergeant moved to the next room to answer a call.

Sighing, Ben looked around the busy room. Officers moving in and out. Phones ringing. Everything seemed strictly business. No one could know that before Sgt. Rogard caught him, his thoughts had verged on the edge of indecent. Sterling had taken him over.

Last night had been the fulfillment of two years’ waking and sleeping dreams. Touching her, lying beside her, had felt like taking in much needed water for his thirsty soul.

Being near Sterling had reminded him how hard he’d worked at shoving his feelings deep enough to ignore. When she’d stepped into his life again, he quickly knew he’d been fooling himself. All the feelings had re-ignited with the lilt of her step and the flip of her luxurious locks.

Ben’s gut ached, remembering the sweetness of waking early in the morning and simply watching Sterling sleep. Listening to her soft breathing had nearly driven him nuts and he’d wrestled with the longing to pull her into his arms again.

When he’d held her at breakfast, he’d taken in and savored every bit of her — her silky skin, her sweet scent, her pure and vibrant essence. He’d wanted to believe things had changed and Sterling would stay in his life.

But they’d always thought alike.
Damn it.
He’d known her doubt. She’d looked up into his face wearing the same look she’d worn the day they parted. The powerful sadness glinting in Sterling’s beautiful blue-green eyes still knotted his stomach. The love he felt for her nearly ate him up. But it wasn’t enough. She had to love him the same way, holding no doubts.

“Kirby, do you hear me? There’s someone to see you.”

Startled, Ben brought his attention to the officer tapping his shoulder. It was Jay. “Sorry. Who is it?” he asked, rising.

“Mrs. Sara Rutherford.” Jay motioned to the woman standing across the room. “You okay, Ben?”

Jay’s question sounded interested, something Ben hadn’t heard from him in a while. “Sure. Just tired.”

“Have some more coffee, buddy. You look terrible,” Jay joked as he let the door to the room close behind him.

Things had been so different since the accident. In another time, Ben might have shared the truth with Jay. That the chasm between his dearest wishes of last night and reality of today was splitting him open. But he knew better than to reach out to his former partner now.

“Hello, Mrs. Rutherford.” Ben tossed off his turmoil and stepped in the woman’s direction. “Let’s go into the conference room. We can talk better there.”

The woman’s eyes were wide and tinged with fright. Ben led her into a private room and closed the door. “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to a chair at the table. “I want to thank you for coming down to the station to talk. I know this is probably all a little overwhelming.”

“That’s okay. When I got your call, I came right down. I don’t know what help I can be, though. I haven’t seen or spoken with my husband for three days.” Sara swallowed hard. “Jerry’s secretary said he called and told her he had to go on an unexpected business trip. He didn’t call me.”

“Is that normal? I mean, for your husband not to contact you?”

“Not really.”

“What about the business trip? Where did he go?” Ben had already spoken with Jerry’s secretary, but had gotten no real answers.

“His secretary said she thought he had a meeting in Chicago. But she seemed nearly as in the dark as me.”

Ben twirled his pen and eyed the woman. The picture of innocence and frailty. Yet his instincts told him something didn’t fit. “Why the unexpected trip? Did that sort of thing happen much?”

“Never. Jerry always had at least a day’s notice, usually more.” Sara sat rigid in the chair, chewing her lower lip. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more.”

Ben stood and walked to the other side of the room. The scent of old coffee and industrial cleaner hung in the station air like smog. But it was familiar, and somehow helped him focus on the case when all he wanted to do was go to Sterling. “What were you doing at nine
A.M.
the day of the murder?”

Nearly imperceptibly, Sara flinched. She drew in a deep breath. “I can’t say exactly. I rose at seven o’clock, showered, and ate breakfast. Jerry had already left for work, or at least that’s what I thought.”

“Okay. Then what?” Ben shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out some change, directing his eyes to the nickels, dimes, and quarters.

“I worked in my garden,” she said simply.

He put the coins back into his pocket. He didn’t know what he hoped to discover by talking to the woman. She seemed so flat, so devoid of hopes and dreams. But did that make her an accomplice to murder? “It’s getting to be that time of year, isn’t it? What time did you work in your garden?”

“Maybe about ten-thirty. I don’t know for sure.”

“You didn’t talk with anyone or see anyone?”

“No. Not until Lacey and Sterling called me later in the day.”

“And why was that? What did they want?”

Sara cleared her throat and stared at the floor. “They asked me to come to their office. After I got there, they confirmed that Jerry had been having an affair with Pamela and they told me they’d found her dead.” Directing a clearly pained expression at him, she continued. “I believe this is all the same information I told another officer that same day.”

“I understand. I’m sorry to ask you to go over the sequence of events again. I’m trying to figure out where your husband could be, Mrs. Rutherford. Can you help me with that?”

“If you’re asking me if I would tell you if I knew, the answer would be I don’t know, Detective. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but, after all, he is my husband. And I would like to talk to him myself.”

This was the most spunk he’d seen in Sara since meeting her. “So you’re saying your husband hasn’t contacted you, right?”

Sara sighed and again bit her lower lip. “No, he has not.”

“No phone calls, no visits.” Maybe if he kept at her, she’d give up something useful.

“I guess there is one thing that seems odd,” Sara said, looking up quizzically into his face. “Jerry didn’t take any clothes with him to Chicago.”

“You know that for sure?” There it was. The little bit of new information that makes persistence pay off.

Again, she sighed. “Yes. Our marriage may seem pretty lacking to you, but I do know when my husband has packed clothes for out of town. I guess I should have thought to mention it before.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve had some pretty unsettling news to deal with. Thanks again for cooperating, Mrs. Rutherford. I appreciate your patience.” Ben opened the door and waited for Sara to lead out.

She paused halfway through the doorway. “Detective, are you certain my husband killed that woman?”

“We’re still investigating,” he answered, his hand on the doorknob.

“But you found his fingerprints in her home, right?” she pressed.

“That’s right. But given the nature of their relationship, that would not be considered conclusive evidence.”

Sara looked down. “I understand.”

BOOK: Dancing with Detective Danger
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