Without Compromise (5 page)

“You’re kidding.”

Tag knew that one would irritate Lowell. The sergeant was as disappointed as anyone when he had to use lethal force on a subject. As the boss, he had to weigh the options and the risks carefully. Implying that Roberts was somehow a victim was like saying he had acted impulsively and with more force than was necessary.

“Not a bit,” Tag assured him.

Lowell grunted, “I’ll see what I can do.”

CHAPTER SIX

Josie was glad for a day off mid-week. She usually didn’t have to work on the weekends, but she rarely had a full day to herself during the week. Molly had resolved that by asking her to come over to get ready for a banquet she was catering.

              Josie didn’t mind helping Molly, but she asked to be allowed to wait until the afternoon. Molly laughed at her sister’s love of sleeping in and told her to be there by 12:01.

Josie let herself into Molly’s building and directed her gaze toward the stairs going up to the second floor.

“Hey,” she greeted the man seated halfway up.

She considered stepping around him with no more than that slight greeting, but she leaned against the bannister instead.

“Shouldn’t you be off saving the world? Or, at least, chasing people who climb out windows.”

Tag shook his head, “Afraid not. I’m on leave.”

She recognized the note of depression in his tone, “Sorry to hear that. You hit on the captain’s wife?”

“No,” he scowled at her. “I did my job.”

Josie sensed a good story, so she plopped down next to him, “And?”

“It was a woman – the perp. Now the shrink is sure I shot her because I’m a misogynist.”

Josie laughed, but sobered quickly when she realized he didn’t share her amusement.

“Sorry,” she hadn’t been sure he was serious until she saw his grim face.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked when he didn’t offer any more information.

“She wants to see me every day this week,” he groaned, head in hands.

Josie really knew nothing about procedure after a shooting, but that seemed excessive.

“Is that usual?”

“Not really.”

“She has the hots for you.”

“Gross,” he nudged her with his shoulder.

“It happens,” she assured him. “Our dad’s partner fell in love with a patient. He didn’t ever act on it, but he had to ask my dad to take over her case.”

“Your dad’s a shrink?”

“Yep. You know how the cobbler’s kids go without shoes? Well, Molly and I are both nuts.”

He laughed then, “Copy that.”

She stood up, “Since you clearly have nothing better to do than sit around and feel sorry for yourself, you should come help us.”

“With what?”

“We’re making appetizers,” she knocked on Molly’s door.

He stood as well, “I can’t cook.”

Molly opened the door, “I was wondering when you would get here.”

Josie walked past her sister, “I was drumming up extra help.”

Molly cocked her head in question.

Josie turned and looked at Tag, “C’mon.”

Molly laughed, “You don’t mean him, do you?”

“See,” Tag folded his arms over his chest, “she doesn’t want me.”

For a moment, Josie thought she saw a small crack of insecurity in the armor of cockiness seen the past two encounters.

“Well, I do,” she grabbed his sleeve. “Molly’s no fun while we’re doing this. She’s so serious.”

“So I’m comedic relief?”

Josie washed her hands, “No. You’re grunt labor just like me.”

He bumped her with a hip so he could wash his hands.

Molly set them to making asparagus wraps.

“These look good,” Tag said as he wrapped the stuffing into a tortilla, “Do we get to sample them?”

“No,” Molly glared at him.

He raised his eyebrows at Josie, “I see what you mean.”

“Yeah,” she leaned toward him, “so if you taste anything, make sure her back is turned.”

Molly pointed a spatula at her sister, “Do
not
contaminate my food.”

Tag kept rolling the food, “Wouldn’t think of it, ma’am.”

She turned back to the sauce she was making on the stove.

Josie picked up a piece of asparagus and held it up to Tag’s mouth. He smiled as he bit into it.

She neatly popped the rest of it into her own mouth.

Molly spun around at the same time that they looked down at the task at hand.

“Are you eating the food?”

“Hmm?” Josie questioned her sister in the most innocent tone possible.

“Josephine Hope,” Molly put her hands on her hips.

“Josephine?” Tag nearly choked on the bite he was trying to swallow.

“Don’t even consider mocking the name,” she warned. “I might start to call you – ”

“Fine!” he interrupted her. “No Josephine.”

“I don’t mind being called Josephine,” that woman assured him. “It was my grandmother’s name. I don’t think Tha. . .” she glanced at her sister’s back, “Why don’t you like your name?”

He stopped working and faced her, “Can you imagine the teasing? My older brother nicknamed me Tag when we were about five and three.”

“Why?”

He lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug, “I think it was his favorite game, and he could never make the T-H sound anyway.”

“Now I’m curious,” Molly turned around. “What is your name?”

He sighed and shook his head, “Can we change the subject?”

“Yes,” Molly’s eyes met Josie’s in a question. Josie was afraid of what that might be. “Let’s talk about something else. Like why you aren’t at work today, Jo.”

“The harness for my fall snapped yesterday, so they had to get a new one.”

“How did it break?” Molly interjected.

Josie didn’t bother responding to that, knowing her sister would not care for the answer.

“They couldn’t get a replacement until this afternoon, so they decided to wait for that scene tomorrow. We’re almost done with the action scenes anyway.”

“Then what will you do?” Tag put the last roll on the tray and reached for a second tray.

“I have a commercial lined up, and then there is a possibility of a television show.”

“T.V?”

“It isn’t set in stone yet.”

“What show?”

She shook her head, “I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

He snorted.

Molly turned back to glare at him, “Are you blowing your germs all over my asparagus rolls?”

Josie smirked at him.

After the asparagus was gone, Molly showed them how to assemble the chicken appetizers. It was a slightly more complex process as it contained more ingredients. Josie thought it may be considered some kind of torture to ask them to work with delicious-smelling food without feeding them first.

“This chicken is really good,” Tag leaned toward Josie and whispered in her ear as soon as Molly stepped into the bathroom.

She ignored the goosebumps caused by his breath on her neck and whispered back, “Don’t tell her that.”

He frowned, “Why?”

She glanced at the closed door, “Cause then she’d know you were eating it.”

He smiled and popped another piece in his mouth. Josie rolled her eyes at his blatant disregard for Molly’s warning.

“So,” he stopped working to look at her, “what did happen to the harness?”

She hesitated a moment before answering, “It got caught in some gears.”

He jerked back a little, “Gears?”

“See I was up on top of the roof and the gears were down here,” she held her hands up to demonstrate, “and then I jumped through the skylight.”

“Wait,” he waved his hand, “you actually went through the skylight? It wasn’t just a set?”

She shook her head, “There wasn’t a good way to make it look realistic otherwise. Anyway, I got half way down, and I was going really slowly, of course, and my foot hit a piece of the machinery.”

Tag glanced to the door to see if Molly was coming out yet.

She wasn’t, but Josie lowered her voice anyway.

“The sound was really loud, and it echoed up above. The guys thought that was the cue for letting go of someone else’s line, but I wasn’t out of the way. Andy came down on top of me.”

“You were both still in harnesses?” he clarified, popping another piece of chicken in his mouth.

She nodded, “And there wasn’t really any place for me to go, but if you see a guy come barreling down on you, you try to move. I wiggled around and reached for a beam to get out of the way. I got myself out of the way fine, but my lines were right under him, and he got tangled up in them.”

Tag cringed.

She nodded, “I went flying after him, and my lines got tangled with his as well as in the gears.”

He groaned in empathy.

“I was about five feet from the ground when I hit the gear itself and tore my harness.”

“How’d you land?”

She grinned, “On Andy.”

Tag laughed at that, “Lucky guy.”

Josie blushed.

He pretended not to notice as he went back to working.

She decided to change the subject, “You know, Tag, my dad could probably look at your file.”

“What for?” he continued to slice pickles.

“To determine if there is anything that indicates you are a woman-hater.”

“Tag’s a woman-hater?” Molly came from the bathroom.

Josie glanced over her shoulder, “Not that I know of.”

Tag set down his knife and looked at Molly, brows gathered, “You’ve known me for a year, Molly. Have I ever given you a reason to believe I was a woman-hater?”

Josie did not know Tag well enough to determine if he was offended, but he did look serious all of a sudden. She guessed he might be a little insulted.

“Actually,” Molly answered him as she wrapped the chicken with the pickles and dill, “promiscuity and frequent but non-committed relationships are often signs of distrust of women.  It would stand to reason that the distrust would be linked to a hatred for women.”

Tag’s eyes widened, “Who said I was promiscuous?”

Molly lifted the pan from the stove and set it in the sink to soak, “Not that I am going to admit to paying attention, Tag, but you have occasionally had a different girl up here every day of the week.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m promiscuous. It means I date a lot.”

“I apologize,” she looked him in the eye. “I should not assume I know what you are doing with those ladies. However, my point still stands. You are either shying away from commitment or you are dating more than one woman at a time.”

“I’ve never even implied to a woman that she was the only one.”

“So you don’t distrust women?”

“I don’t think so.”

Molly pulled a pan of sausage puffs from the oven, “Sometimes our behavior speaks for itself.”

Josie boosted herself up on the stool and started picking up the leftover pieces of chicken and popping them in her mouth, “I don’t suppose Molly ever told you that she has a degree in psychology from NYU.”

Tag assisted her in the cleanup, “No. Was that how you got into catering?”

Both women laughed at the joke.

“I wanted to go to a culinary school, but my parents thought I should have something to fall back on when my dream didn’t pan out. I graduated about a year before I met you, but by then the catering business had taken off.”

He looked at Josie, “And you have a degree in nursing, I suppose?”

“No. I took two years at NYU but gave it up when my work schedule began to conflict with my class schedule.”

“What did you want to do?”

“Anything but school,” Josie responded with a shake of her head. “I got through my classes on a wink and a prayer.”

“Your grades weren’t that bad, Josie,” Molly wiped down the counters. “You would be fine if you went back.”

Josie looked at Tag, “My sister is convinced that I am going to regret not finishing school.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t have anything to do once this job runs out.”

“That’s not it,” Molly argued. “I just think you might get tired of dangling fifty feet off the ground, hoping the strap will hold, worrying about whether the guy at the bottom will remember to put the landing pad in the right place, or praying that the wind won’t change.”

Josie didn’t respond. She had heard it all before.

Tag spoke up, “If you ever decide you need a change of pace, you can come work for us. We could use someone like you to chase down the slippery ones.”

Josie pointed a spatula at him, “How will you know they are slippery before you go chase them?”

He shrugged, “You can join my team.”

Molly scowled at the man, “Don’t give her any ideas.”

“Too late for that,” Josie hopped to her feet.

“You headed out?” Molly asked.

“I am,” Josie opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. “I don’t want to be late.”

Tag turned to look at her, “To what?”

Molly laughed, “You should take him with you.”