The Bull Rider Wears Pink (17 page)

But Cassidy was done. Enough was
enough. “If you're not going to do anything about stopping this, I will,” she
announced. No woman was going to get hurt tonight, not on Cassidy's watch.

John was next to her in two
strides.
“How about?” he suggested.
“You go out there
and ask if everyone is okay. Just your presence should settle them down.” John
winked at her. “You were always good at that.”

A wink, what was wrong with the
man? Then again, he was right about domestic violence potentially being stopped
by a
neighbor
checking in on the situation. Guys
hated to be called out when they were behaving badly and it usually got them to
check their anger. “I'll need back up if the situation escalates,” Cassidy
warned. “I'm not carrying a badge or weapon anymore.”

John nodded reluctantly, which
wasn't reassuring. Cassidy really hoped the man planned on coming through for
Mary. With one last glance at her sleeping son Cassidy slipped out the door.
She was almost clear of the room when John gave her a little spank on the butt.
“Good luck,” he whispered.

Jesus, he had nerve, especially
since he wasn't even supposed to be touching her. As she hiked across the
parking lot she noticed her hands were shaking and heart pounding. This was the
adrenaline rush she lived for. Except it wasn't giving her the same high she'd
gotten in the past. She really hoped to return from this situation in one piece
so that she could take care of her sick son.

“Hey,” Cassidy said as she came
around the side of the building. “I was sleeping over there and I heard some
noise.” She stepped out of the shadows while she pointed at her room. “Everything
okay?” she asked her voice going higher.

Mary the Inn Keeper and Mike
Shannon stood next to a pickup truck staring at each other. Fingers fisted at
their sides and broken glass at their feet. It looked like a beer bottle. But
Cassidy didn't concentrate on the crime scene for long. First she had to make
sure Mike and Mary wouldn't turn on her.

Both seemed surprised to see her
which was a good sign. Maybe they'd be embarrassed enough by their
behavior
to end this and go to bed. By morning, the fight
they had would seem like a distant memory. Then again, Cassidy's expectation of
peace between Mike and Mary was probably much too optimistic.

“Did our voices wake you?” Mary
asked while Mike did a double take. Then it dawned on him who Cassidy was. The
man wasn't dumb even though he did stupid things.

“What the hell are you doing here,
Miss Split Pants?” he taunted. He looked both annoyed and suspicious at the
same time. “Is that poor excuse of a preacher with you?” he sneered as he
folded his arms over his chest.

“No,” Cassidy replied way too
quickly. “My son Kevin is in my room.” If one is lying it's best to stick as
close as possible to the true story. “He's sick with the chicken pox.”

“But you had a man with you when
you checked in.” Mary told Cassidy. “A mighty handsome man,” she added with a
nod of approval.

“He left,” Cassidy said. Damn it,
she should have thought this through before she lied. Mike eyed her
suspiciously. “Called a cab and headed out.” She was waving her hands around
like an idiot.

“Go back to bed,” Mary suggested, “there's
no problem here.”

Cassidy didn't move.

“We’ll keep it down,” Mary
negotiated. She flapped her wrists in a shooing motion.

Cassidy wasn't going to be sent off
so quickly. The woman needed to understand that while working with the
Highwaymen Cassidy had become an expert on domestic violence. “Why don't you go
to bed too?” she suggested to Mary. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

After a glance at the clown Mary
followed Cassidy. When they were rounding the corner Cassidy looked over her
shoulder at Mike. The man stood next to his truck with his hands on his hips
staring at the inn keeper. “This isn't over,” he told Mary. “I need your help
and you owe me.”

* * * *

“He's going to hit her, if not
tonight sometime soon, he wants her to do something she's unwilling to do,”
Cassidy said when she walked into their room. “A man like that will use any
means possible to get what he wants.” She closed the door softly and glanced at
Kevin. The boy was still asleep. Hopefully the kid would sleep for twelve hours
and maybe forget all the conspiracy theories he developed concerning John
earlier in the day.

“You don't know that,” John told
Cassidy sounding like an asshole. He didn't want to be like that but he
couldn't figure any way around it. He ran his hands through his hair and paced
the room for a moment. “If we wait a little longer we may be able to determine
who his supplier is or who is coming to this meeting he’s got planned.”

Cassidy leaned against the door. “I
do know he threatened her as we walked away.” She crossed the room. “The man is
frustrated and close to out of control.” She sat on John's cot. The damn thing
squeaked even under her feather weight. But Kevin didn't wake up.

“Can we wait and see a little
longer?” John asked politely. “You understand—” he started.

“Yes,” Cassidy interrupted wearily.
Jesus, he didn't want to make her feel that way. He wanted that sweet smile on
her face. “You could end the prescription drug dealing at the rodeo if you
catch this guy,” she finished his sentence. She looked away from him. “But
isn't there another way to do this?” She studied Kevin's chest. “Why do women
always have to get hurt?”

“Mary the Inn Keeper is not hurt
yet.”
Which was a lame response.
On the other hand
John didn't have much else. He sat next to Cassidy. For some strange reason the
cot didn't squeak and he was about sixty pounds heavier.

But she wasn't listening. Instead
she studied her sleeping son. “Is his chest going up and down?” she asked.
Cassidy pulled herself off the cot and moved closer to the bed.

“Yes,” John replied gently. She was
a mother with a sick kid. John really needed to be more patient with her
because she had a lot on her plate. “I can see the collar on his shirt moving,”
he added. He hoped she would recognize that he was handling this situation
differently than he would have in L.A. Even though he was
digging his heels in he was being much more reasonable about it.

Satisfied Kevin was
okay,
Cassidy returned to the cot and sat down again. It
creaked again. “If this goes bad with Mary, can you arrest Mike Shannon and
then get him to give up his supplier?” She glanced at her son again. “You must
have some sort of leverage against the man.”

John shook his head. “I don't have
any evidence.” Jesus, he was feeling pretty incompetent. There was a time he
was good at this stuff. “He's squeaky clean,” he added.

“Didn't he sell to you the other
night?” she asked, “because that man is not clean.”

John was again reminded of how much
he loved Cassidy's
Spidey
sense. He'd always been his
best as a cop with her by his side. Maybe this undercover job wasn't coming
together the way he wanted because he didn't have Cassidy. Was he that
dependent upon her? Definitely a scary thought. What happened to the carefully
crafted aloof, reserved, and indifferent personality he'd nurtured all these
years?

“No,” he replied both to his
thoughts and to Cassidy's question. He wasn't emotionally dependent on Cassidy
Cooper, and Mike Shannon hadn't sold to him. John put a hand on his forehead
and shook his head. Holy crap, he was confused.

“You've been here for more than a
year,” she told him.

Even though she was sounding
judgmental, she had a right to say it. After all, her son was sick and she was
stuck in a seedy motel room with John's mess firmly planted in her lap. Jesus,
he should have caught Mike Shannon's supplier long ago and he should be back in
L.A.
starting another job.

Yes, he lingered at the rodeo
because he was waiting for Cassidy. But that wasn't the only
reason,
he liked studying redemption, salvation and all that other good stuff. Not that
he was very good at preaching or practicing it but he was trying.

“You're slipping,” Cassidy
remarked. She wasn't being critical, just stating the obvious. “You could
always get a drug dealer to sell to you,” she commented.

John wasn't insulted by her words. “I
think it's being Pastor John.” He got up and paced across the room. “I'm a foul
mouthed bastard and I can't fake good.” He stopped in front of her.

“You're not a total bastard,” she
countered.
“Just an occasional prick.”
She took his
hand and lifted it to her lips. She kissed his battered and scared knuckles.

That felt good. “I'm lousy at this
job,” he added. He hoped, since he was still beating himself up, she would pick
up his other hand and kiss it too.

“Maybe it’s time to go back into
uniform and be a plain old cop,” she suggested kissing his other hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “because I
certainly can’t be a minister.”

“It may not seem like it,” she told
him while holding his fingers between her palms. “Your words inspired a few
people at the service last week.” She looked up at him, her eyes twinkled.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes,” Cassidy replied. “Mrs.
Goodwin told me that she was going to be more forgiving toward people. Not as
judgmental.” Cassidy chuckled softly. “But she wanted to make it clear that she
wouldn’t give up her white lies.”

“She said that?” he replied
sounding a lot happier than he should have. Along with losing his edge, he was
turning into a guy that needed lots of reassuring. Jesus, he could be pathetic
when he wanted. But this was good news about Mrs. Goodwin. The woman didn't
have it easy with her husband sick and unable to pay his bills. John was
delighted his words gave her comfort. Maybe when he got back to the rodeo he’d
start a collection for her.

Cassidy nodded.

“You're not just playing with me?”
This need for affirmation was getting a little out of hand on his part. But he
couldn’t drop it.

“Don’t you even think about it,”
Mary yelled before Cassidy had a chance to answer. “I will not let you store
anything in my home.”

“God damn it,” John moaned. “I
can't believe that idiot is going after her again. Can't he just rent a stupid storage
unit that we can find, raid, and then arrest him?”

“
Shhh
,”
Cassidy scolded. Her eyes shifted toward Kevin. The damn kid was still asleep.
John wondered if he was faking but Cassidy probably wouldn’t let John get close
enough to find out. A good tickle to the ribs would answer that question.

“Don’t you touch me,” Mary said
pulling John's attention away from the kid.

“We have to stop him,” Cassidy
whispered. She already had her flip flops on and was looking around the room
for some sort of weapon. She pulled on the leg of the chair but couldn't break
it away. Then she picked up the lamp.

“I know, I know,” John replied.
Jesus H. Christ it was his moment of decision. Either he follows the path he'd
chosen before and forces Cassidy out of his life again, possibly forever, or he
does things differently. This time he was pretty sure Cassidy wouldn't blow his
cover but she would call the police and get Mike Shannon arrested. Completely
ending any chance John would have of finding the kingpin. Honestly, he didn't
have any other leads at the rodeo.

“What are you going to do?” Cassidy
asked.

“I'll arrest him,” John replied
dryly. He couldn't help himself, he had to add,
“
You
win.” But she ignored the snarky comment, another quality of Cassidy's that
made her a good woman.

John stood up and reached into his
suitcase for his
Glock
. He took the safety off and
shoved it into the back of his pants. Then he crossed the room with Cassidy on
his heels. When he stopped at the door she bumped into his back.

“You're really going to arrest him?”
she asked after he turned around. She didn't believe him and she had every
right.

John decided to be honest with her.
“First I'm going to try talking to them as a civilian for a few minutes while I
assess the situation.” Cassidy's mouth turned down as she listened, which made
him damn sad. “If Mary's not ready to press charges I'm not going to arrest the
guy,” he explained logically. He wrapped his fingers around Cassidy's chin. “If
I throw the guy in cuffs, it's over. My cover is blown and I'll never figure
out who's behind these drugs at the rodeo.”

“This is just like L.A.,”
Cassidy countered. “And, Mike Shannon is going to know you're up to something
because I already told him you weren't here.” She put her hands on her hips. “And,
now you're here.”

“No, he isn't because I'll tell him
I came back,” John countered. He put a hand on her shoulder and gently nudged
her to the side. “I'm going out there. I'm going to face the guy and I promise
you if Mary allows me to arrest him I will put Mike Shannon in cuffs.” John glanced
at Kevin on the bed. The kid was still sleeping, a steady up and down of his
chest.