Stuck On You (6 page)

Mack crept in, not daring to breathe. He knew that Deputy Gilmartin would be taking a smoke break about now. He could set his watch by Gilmartin's nicotine habit, and Mack only had about ten minutes. Tops.

Sitting down on the metal folding chair, he immediately went to the main menu. That was about all he could find. Computers were not his thing.

Skimming the lengthy list, he wondered what keys he needed to punch to dig up a list of the inventory of drugs seized during drug busts.

They weren't stored here, he knew. Drugs were kept under lock and key at the Sheriff Department's Heliport located in the country on the outskirts of town. Only a few cops and administrators knew the location of the locker, and he was one of them. The drugs were scheduled for incineration twice a year. The destruction was usually witnessed by Captain Crowley and selected others, and Mack wanted to know the destruction dates and what quantities had been destroyed. More important, he needed to know what remained.

He had a handle on the drug trade in Rose Lake, and there was just too much out there. As soon as he got the town fairly cleaned up, the stuff was out there again in full force.

Lately, some of the drugs looked awfully familiar—something about the way they were packaged. During one bust, he’d confiscated several light green glassine bags tied with a silver string. Those resurfaced in another part of town during another bust, and he knew that the seller was in jail.

It tweaked his mind that the drugs he and Tom Murray had confiscated throughout the past several months might be missing from the storage locker at the Heliport.

Whoever was re-selling the stuff, should have been bright enough to repackage it differently.

He might be spitting in the wind, but it was the only idea he had.

Finally, Mack found what he was looking for. He thought he hit the right combination of keys, but nothing happened. He tried it again and again, then got jammed up and nothing would move. Precious seconds ticked by while he shut the damned thing off and booted it up again. Checking his watch, he knew that he had to get the hell out of there, but he decided to try it one last time.

The basement door squeaked open, then hit the wall with a bang. Mack heard uncontrollable coughingd. Gilmartin.

Mack turned the computer off. Taking the side stairs two at a time, he raced out of the building, locked the door, and jogged to his car.

Disappointed that he'd been dead-ended on the computer, he hurried home. If he didn't get there fast, Kate and her equipment would blow sky high. Mack found himself looking forward to seeing her again.

He made it to his house just seconds before Kate arrived and pounded on the kitchen door.

He opened the door for her. "Something wrong, Kate? You just left not too long ago."

As she stormed inside, he hoped he sounded sincere and not stupid. "I didn't get any voice verification phone calls yet." At least he hoped not.

"You left the premises."

"Me? Why Kate, I–"

"Don't lie to me, Mack. I set you up on my computer in my office, and it showed that you weren't here."

He loved the fire in her green eyes. "As you can see, I am right here watching TV." Motioning toward the living room, he invited her to check for herself. It wasn't a lie. He had watched it for all of three seconds before she arrived. "Maybe something's wrong with your equipment."

"My equipment is fine." She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. "But the battery must have leaped right out of my laptop. You didn't happen to notice anything like that when you brought in those two cases for me, did you?"

Mack shook his head. "Nope. I didn't see any leaping batteries." He looked at the black gizmo in her hand. "Did the drive-by just now show that I was here?" It was subject-changing time again. 
"Yes, but you are here. Now."

"Well, then maybe something's wrong with your computer."

"I doubt it." She shook her head. "I think you booked out of here the second I drove away."

He lifted up his pant leg. "Look. It's there."

"There was a lag time before I programmed you in at my office."

"Kate, come on. Here I am." He sat back down in the lawn chair and shut the TV off with the remote. He felt a little tug of guilt that he was deceiving her, but he had no choice. "By any chance, did you pick up that Chinese food?" That would get her going.

"No. I didn't, and I won't be picking it up. Not now. Not ever. Call and order something yourself."

"Gee, Kate. I just thought that–"

"I'll be leaving now." She sighed deeply, and Mack was sorry that he’d had to deceive her.

He followed Kate out the kitchen door to the garage. She sniffed the air. He smelled it, too. Exhaust fumes. Motor oil. And he could hear the pinging noise of a car cooling.

She walked over to the rust bucket and put her palm on the hood.

"It's warm," she said. "You drove it."

"I started it up and let it run for a while. It's been idle for about a week, and I wanted to make sure it would run."

She eyed him suspiciously.

"It's true." He didn't add that he drove the thing while it was running.

"I don't believe you, Mack. And I don't trust you." Indignant, she started to walk toward her car. "Just thought you should know that."

Even though he was the last person in the world she should trust, her words still bothered him. "I heard you, loud and clear."

She looked like she was going to say something else, but then changed her mind. He watched as she took something from the front seat of her Blazer. A newspaper. Walking back to the garage, she handed it to him.

"Oh, by the way, we made the front page," she said.

Skimming the article, his eyes zeroed in on the quote from his father.
Dammit.
Wouldn't the old man ever believe in him? Couldn't he stick up for him just once?

"You just take that scholarship, Johnny,” his father had ordered. “You should be a corporate lawyer like Mike. Your brother is doing well for himself. You could be someone.”

"But I am going to be someone. I’m going to be a cop.” Mack insisted.

“A cop? That’s no kind of job."

He'd been eclipsed by Mike his entire life, so he'd wanted to do his own thing. He had always wanted to be a cop ever since Captain Crawley, who was Officer Crawley back then, came and spoke during Career Day in his freshman year of high school.

Being a cop wasn't a glamorous job like his brother's and it didn't pay well, but he needed to be a cop more than he needed to breathe. It was his whole identity. It made him feel good when he caught a criminal. It was his way of protecting the community, making the streets safer, making Rose Lake a better place to raise his kids–if kids were in the cards for him.

After all these years, even though it was senseless, Mack continued to try to prove himself to the old man.

He’d tried to become the best cop he could.

But now everyone thought he was a criminal.

"Do you mind if I keep the paper?" he asked Kate. He wanted to read the article again when she wasn't around. When he could savor every word of his father's unfailing support–not.

"Go right ahead." She turned to leave, then looked back at him and forced a smile. "I can't prove it, but I know you've been out driving. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one. It's been a long day, and I'm tired."

"Thanks." Well, he might have gotten away with one, but it didn't make him proud of himself.

She nodded, then went over to the rust bucket. Damned if she didn't stick her head in the window and check the mileage.

"Six thousand and twelve miles?"

"This is the third time it's been around."

"I see."

"It gets me where I want to go," he said, defending the beast.

"Not anymore it won't. Can I have the keys, please?" She held out her hand.

If this didn't beat all. "No way. It's my car, I'm still licensed to drive it, and I don't appreciate being treated like a criminal or a little kid." His blood pressure was rising in increments of ten.

"Then don't act like one." Her gaze didn't waiver in spite of his best glare. "Your choice, Mack. The keys—or back to jail."

Swearing under his breath, he fished out the keys to the rust bucket from his pocket and tossed them to her.

She caught them in mid-air.

"Interesting that you had them right on you."

"I told you, I’d started it up."

Kate put the keys in her pocket book. "Yes, that's what you told me."

It wasn't going to be easy to fool Kate. She was too intelligent to fall for his lies, and he had always liked the fact that she could stand up to him.

But it was still frustrating not being able to come and go when he needed to. He rolled up the paper, and slapped it against his palm in frustration. "By the way, I need to talk with my father."

"We went over this before. Call him."

"I need to talk to him in person."

"Why can't you invite him here?"

"He won't come to me. I have to go to him. That's the way it's always been."

She looked down at the oil-stained garage floor. "I can't let you go, Mack. Please understand. I just can't." She met his gaze. "You're on house arrest."

He flung the paper to the far side of the garage. "Dammit. I know. You remind me every waking moment."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. He didn't mean to yell at Kate or take his frustration out on her. The quote from his father was like a gut punch. He didn't know how much more he could take.

Mack took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, then noticed that Kate's eyes avoided his. He mentally kicked himself for his quick temper. It was hard to explain why he over-reacted–the words wouldn't come. "I'm really sorry. I guess it's all getting to me," was the best he could muster.

"I understand," she said, but her gaze never met his. He had overreacted, and he felt like scum.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" she said, compassion in her voice.

"Yeah. Maybe I should." It had been a long day, a horrible week.

"Good night then."

"Good night," he said. He still felt like a slug for lying to her, but he knew he'd go berserk if he had to stay confined in a cell. He was already going crazy just thinking about the fact that he wasn’t supposed to go any further than twenty feet from his house.

A shudder went through him. He couldn't handle being sent to prison. No way. The cell was a coffin. Privacy was non-existent. And he had the dregs of Rose County for company, most of whom he had put in there.

He had no choice. He had to do Kate's program.

And he had to find out who had framed him. And fast.

"Mack, are you all right?" Kate's green eyes were full of worry. She took a few steps toward him and put her palm on his forehead like a concerned mother. "You're a little warm, but I don't think you have a temperature."

He held his breath, figuring that if he were to exhale the moment would end. He didn't want it to. But when it did, he took her hand and held it in his for several seconds. It surprised him that she didn't recoil from his touch.

He wanted to tell her that it had been an eternity since someone had cared about him, even that little bit, but he didn't want her to think he couldn't go it alone. Because he could. He had gotten this far without anyone.

Kate looked up at him, waiting. Her eyes searched his, but she didn't speak.

For some reason, he needed to touch her, to feel her warmth. It seemed only natural to move closer to her and slip his arm around her waist. He pulled her slowly toward him, giving her time to resist, but she didn't. He felt her tense, heard her sudden intake of air. Her lips were just a mere inch from his and he could smell the flowery fragrance of her perfume, the faint herbal scent of her hair.

He wanted to kiss her more than anything else in the world, but he didn't dare. He couldn’t offer her anything right now. She was always the brightest, the smartest, the one with the most ambition. She deserved someone who wasn’t living under a cloud of suspicion.

Above all, he suspected that someone was trying to kill him, but got his partner instead. If Kate was near him, she might get hurt, just like Tom had.

It was the hardest thing he had even done in his life, but he let her go.

Kate looked confused and shaken, and it seemed that she couldn't wait to get away from him, and that saddened him. He didn't mean to upset her yet again.

He ground a fist into his hand.
Damn! What was I thinking?

Neither of them said a word as Kate hurried to her Blazer and Mack watched her drive away for the second time that day.

He knew full well that he was going to have to leave the first thing in the morning and hurt Kate even more.

CHAPTER 4

Driving back to her office, Kate hit the buttons that rolled down all the windows and let the sixty-five mile an hour wind cool her. Her heart thumped like a flat tire and her blood pumped hot through her veins.

He was going to kiss me.

I wanted him to.

It was a high school dream come true being held in his arms for even that little bit of time. He was strong and powerful and hard. His blue eyes had studied her face, then darkened.

Then he'd scowled and let her go.

Kate turned on the radio for a distraction so she wouldn't have to think more about it. She had a job to do and didn't need romantic thoughts of John Mackowitz clouding her brain. He was her client, and it would be unprofessional to get involved with him.

Who was she kidding? Sure, she could convince herself that it would be unprofessional to get involved with him, but in her heart of hearts, she was downright scared. It was easier to dream of what might be than face reality.

And reality was that Mack changed his mind about kissing her.

He had major problems right now. He believed that someone was trying to kill him, trying to frame him, and now she was there to insure he stayed put in his house. Kate understood that he needed to be a cop, and find out what was going on, and she was blocking his movement.