Without Compromise (6 page)

“I will not,” Josie backed toward the door. “Can you imagine the trouble I’d be in if I brought a cop with me?”

“Take a cop where?” he quickly repositioned himself so he was between her and the door.

“You know I don’t have to go out that way, don’t you?” she smirked at him.

“I know that I locked that window when I was in here last week,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “And it was sticky. Not saying you couldn’t get it open, but I’d get to you before you’d get out.”

“And then what?” she was considering making an attempt at escape just to see if he could catch her.

Tag had Josie locked to himself so fast, she didn’t know what hit her.

“I’m not used to people who can move like you do, Josie,” his right arm was pressed firmly against her back, forcing their chests together. His other hand gripped both her wrists, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t adapt.”

She laughed despite being pinned, “Sorry for underestimating you.”

“I doubt you did,” he didn’t loosen his hold.

Josie shook her head, “I know when I’m beat.”

“Liar,” he let go anyway.

She raised her eyebrows.

He elaborated, “You and I both know you were about to get out of that.”

She had a few tricks up her sleeve, it was true, but the way he was holding her felt more intimate than the grips she had escaped in self-defense classes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be released.

“How did you think I was going to get out of it?”

“I don’t know,” he stepped away from the door, “that’s why I let go.”             

Both women laughed at his uneasy expression.

Josie opened the door and walked out, “You can come if you want, but you’d better not tell people you’re a cop.”

Tag followed her down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk.

“So, who are we going to meet?”

“A parkour group. It was recently made illegal in Battery Park, so the members are a little anti-cop right now.”

“They won’t expect me to do those jumps or flips, will they?”

Josie glanced up at him to see if he was serious, “You afraid of hurting yourself?”

“Absolutely,” he fell easily into step next to her. “I’m pretty cautious.”

She blew a noise between her lips, “So you became a cop?”

“It isn’t even on the list anymore.”

She had no idea what he was talking about, “What list?”

“Of the top ten dangerous jobs. There’s a list, and being a cop isn’t on it.”

“What’s the most dangerous job?”

“Being a fisherman.”

She angled her head toward him, “No way. Really?”

“Yep,” he nodded, “steel workers, loggers, pilots – all more dangerous than being a cop.”

“Huh.”

“Even taxi drivers have a greater chance of being killed or injured than cops now.”

She had to ask, “So, I suppose you’re considering changing professions now?”

Tag threw back his head and laughed at that, “Only on the bad days.”

She saw the group ahead of them, “There they are.”

Tag nodded.

“And if anyone asks, tell them you’re a fisherman.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tag enjoyed watching the group practice their art. They seemed respectful of the bystanders, so he had no problem with keeping his mouth shut about it.

Josie convinced him to try some of the more simple moves. He fell a few times, but by the end, he had mastered one of the jumps.

They waved goodbye to the group and began walking away from the park.

He wished he dared take her hand, but he was pretty sure she’d either deck him or throw him neatly to the ground.

He settled for starting a conversation, “That was fun.”

“I thought so too. You were a good sport about those guys teaching you.”

“You know, it would probably be a useful thing for the department to learn some of those moves.”

Josie looked up at him, and he got the feeling she wasn’t really thinking about parkour.

“What?” he hoped he wasn’t going to hate what she said.

“Are you really a player?”

That was a surprise, “A player?”

“A flirt, philanderer, a womanizer.”

He sighed.

“It’s true, huh?”

He didn’t know what to say. He liked the company of women, but he had never dated anyone seriously.

“It’s okay, you know,” she walked toward her building. “I don’t think it means you have an underlying hatred for women.”

He followed her, “That’s good to know.”

“It sounds lonely,” she surprised him again.

“Lonely?”

“Don’t you crave connection? You can’t get that with someone you just met.”

“You aren’t dating anyone either,” he pointed out the obvious.

“But I have a better connection than any earthly one.”

“I guess I didn’t realize you shared the same religious beliefs as your sister.”

“Religion has nothing to do with it. It’s a relationship.”

He shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets, “Are you saying that you would give up your religion if you had a romantic attachment?”

“No,” she seemed comfortable with the conversation. “I’m not even saying that an earthly connection can come close to the communion that a Christian can have with Jesus, but I would think that someone who doesn’t have a relationship with Christ would be looking for a substitute.”

He shook his head, “I have plenty of meaningful relationships. They just aren’t romantic.”

“Which is probably for the best,” she grinned at him as they reached the point where their paths would diverge, “considering what that woman would have to put up with.”

“You interested in going to get some supper?”

She shook her head, “No thanks. I have plans.”

He was curious about what those plans were, but he didn’t ask. He had already taken up a good deal of her day. Besides, he wanted to get back home so he could call Lowell again about that file.

Lowell didn’t seem annoyed by the request for Tag’s files– just curious.

“I don’t know why you want another shrink lookin’ at your file. One is bad enough.”

Tag knew it sounded crazy, “I think Hanson has her own issues, and I should have the right to a second opinion.”

“I’ll get them for you tomorrow.”

Lowell did get the transcripts from Tag’s visit. Dr. Hanson refused to give up her notes, however.

Three days later, Tag got a call from Molly.

“You busy?”

“Not really,” he finished wiping down his gun and put the oil and rag in the cupboard.

“Do you mind if I come over there? My dad is here, and he’d like to talk to you.”

“To tell me I really am misogynistic, I suppose.”

“I doubt it.”

“Door’s open,” he said before hanging up.

“Hi, Tag. This is my dad, Sol Drake.”

Tag rose as they entered, “Dr. Drake, it’s nice to meet you.”

The other man extended his hand to grip Tag’s, “Nice to meet you too, Officer Madden.”

“Please,” Tag pointed to the couch in an indication that the other man should have a seat, “it’s just Tag.”

Drake smiled, “Strange. You wanted Dr. Hanson to call you Officer Madden.”

“And what do you get from that?”

“That you were annoyed and a bit defensive.”

“Anything else?”

“I don’t think you’re a woman-hater if that’s what you are getting at.”

“I don’t think I am either, but it doesn’t matter what I think. If she thinks I am, I’ve got problems.”

Drake glanced at his daughter. She smiled and stood up.

“I’m going to go check on my spinach puffs.”

Tag wondered what the psychologist was about to say.

“How old a woman is Dr. Hanson?”

Tag shrugged, “I’m not sure. Late thirties, early forties maybe.”

“Married?”

“No. At least I don’t think so. I’ve never talked to her except when the department made me.”

“I think she finds you attractive and is annoyed by your behavior and, also, looking for a way to spend more time with you.”

“I doubt it,” Tag hoped the man was wrong.

“I wasn’t sure until I listened to the tape.”

“Listened to the tape?”

“I got a copy of the session recordings. Sometimes you can tell more by tone of voice than by the transcripts.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I asked your sergeant for it when I mentioned my suspicion.”

Tag groaned, “You didn’t really.”

“I did.”

Tag buried his face in his hands, “I will never hear the end of this.”

“Sorry,” Drake laughed. “I didn’t realize I was causing more trouble for you.”

What was done was done. Tag needed to know what was happening now.

“What did Lowell say about the situation?”

“He’s going to read what I gave him and request you go speak to the psychologist at another precinct.”

“That would be nice,” Tag hoped some good would come out of this. “Although, I gotta say, I don’t think she has the hots for me. I think she’s got it in for me. She doesn’t believe in using force to accomplish our purpose.”

Drake laughed at that, “She may be practicing in the wrong place.”

Tag shrugged.

The following day Lowell called him to tell him to go over to see the shrink in precinct three. Dr. Jolson cleared him after one visit.

Tag called the first person he thought of.

“Thanks for giving my file to your dad, Josie. I get to start back to work on Wednesday.”

“I’m so glad, Tag. I know that means a lot to you.”

“It does. I can’t thank you enough.”

“It wasn’t just me, you know.”

“I’ll send your father some tickets to the Mets.”

“You planning to thank God too?” she ignored the mention of tickets. “Because we’ve been praying for your situation.”

“You mentioned that.”

He wondered why he wasn’t uncomfortable discussing this with Josie. Talking about religion with anyone else gave him the willies.

“Someday, Tag, you’re going to realize there is Someone bigger, stronger, more powerful than you.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” he promised.

“I’d better be.”

He hung up and leaned his head back against the couch. It felt so good to belong to the team again.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Josie looked around the bar – still no sign of Carenza. She sighed and took a sip of her drink. It wasn’t really a surprise. The woman was notorious for being late.

              She sat down at the bar with her ginger ale, planning only to stay long enough to finish it. She and Carenza could catch up later.

              “Could I buy your next drink?” an attractive man who looked about her age took the seat next to hers.

              She had no desire to be ‘picked up,’ but the guy had spoken graciously and was not hovering over her.

              “Thanks,” she made eye contact, “but I’m waiting for a friend of mine.”

              He still looked hopeful, “Couldn’t you wait over there as well as over here?”

              He pointed to a booth where a couple men were seated. Josie was about to decline again when she saw someone else join the group. She looked back to the man beside her.

              He rocked back on his heels, “We won’t even trap you there – you can sit on the outside.”

              She held her hand out, “Josie.”

              “Malachi,” he grinned, “Malachi Prince. What are you drinking?”

              “I’m good,” she held up the soda as proof.

              She followed him to the table and took the seat opposite Tag.

              That man’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

              “Guys, this is Josie. Josie, this is Tag Madden, Lowell Lutz, and Harry Jacobson. We’re in the same unit. ”

              “Cops?” she asked just to be polite.

              “Yeah,” Malachi took a sip of his beer.

              “You here alone, Miss. . .?” Lowell hinted at a last name.

              “It’s Josie,” she deflected neatly. “And, yes, I am. I was supposed to meet someone, but I think I’ve been stood up.”

              “A date?” Tag spoke up.

              She wondered if that was a hint of jealousy she heard, “I wouldn’t say so.”

              “What is it you do, Josie?” Harry was leaned back in the corner of the booth, comfortable.

              “I work in the film industry.”

              “Really?” Malachi latched onto that, “Doing what?”

              “I work with the development of action sequences.”

              Tag made a noise in the back of his throat.

              “Is there a problem, Officer Madden?” she plastered a syrupy smile on her face.

              “Nope.”

              Harry laughed, “I wouldn’t concern yourself over Tag. He got shot down by that blonde over in the corner about two minutes before you came over.”

              Josie forced herself to laugh, “Maybe you should run your lines by me, Tag. I could analyze them for you to see what went wrong.”

              He rolled his eyes.

              “You can see how advantageous it would be, certainly,” she toyed with her straw. “I am, after all, a woman.”

              Malachi chuckled at that. Tag just raised an eyebrow.

              Josie wished she knew what he thought about her change in attire. The navy halter dress she was now wearing was decidedly more feminine than her dobok or the yoga pants she had worn to help to Molly cook. Tag looked like he couldn’t care less.

              “I know you aren’t trying to pick me up,” she pointed out, “so I can be objective.”

              “I don’t use pickup lines,” he assured her.

              “No?” she pretended to assess him, “I suppose you don’t have to. You kind of have that boy-next-door look.”

              He did not smile at her private joke.

              “You just assume women will trust you and agree to anything.”

              “For crying out loud,” he muttered. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

              “But you had to have said something, Tag,” she insisted, “or you couldn’t have been shot down.”

              All eyes were on her.

              “So?” she prodded.

              Malachi latched onto that idea, “Just tell her what you said, Tag. It couldn’t hurt.”

              “Yeah, really,” Harry chimed in. “Especially now.”

              “Jacobson,” the name was spoken in a tone of warning.

              Harry ignored it.

              “Tag’s usually a ladies’ man, but he’s been striking out the last couple weeks.”

              Tag’s face took on a slight pink.

              Josie was torn between amusement and compassion. She decided on the latter.

              “Have you guys worked together for very long?”

              Malachi was pleased to have something to talk about, so he explained the structure of the unit and how long each guy had been in it. Harry and Tag each interjected details during the account, but Lowell was silent.

              He spoke up after Malachi was finished, “What exactly do you do for the films?”

              There was no particular reason to keep it from him, but she didn’t have a reason to tell him either.

              She looked him in the eye, “I work in the stunt department.”

              His face remained impassive.

              Malachi seemed eager to explore the topic, “Do you get to work with the stars?”

              “Yes. More so if they do their own stunts.”

              Lowell spoke up again, “I wonder if you should call your friend – maybe something happened to him.”

              Josie chuckled, “I’m guessing something came up. It’s no big deal.”

              Her phone rang right then. She checked her caller i.d.

              “Excuse me, guys, I’m about to get an explanation as to why I’ve been stood up.”

              “Hi, Carenza.”

              “So sorry, Josie,” Carenza began speaking quickly. “I got lost, and then I couldn’t remember the name of the bar. Now, I finally found a parking spot, and I’m on my way in.”

              “No problem, Carenza. I’m still here.”

              “Great!” she hung up on that.

              Tag was watching her closely, “Carenza?”

              “Like Carenza Anthis?” even Harry was leaning forward in his seat.

              Josie stood up, “Well, guys, it was nice to meet you.”

              Tag followed her out of the booth, “Now, don’t run away so quickly, Josie. I think turnabout is fair play.”

              “Whatever could you mean?”

              “Malachi introduced you to his friends; you should probably do the same.”

              “After all, we’re your friends now too,” Harry reasoned.

              “Oh, really?” she stood with her hands on her hips, “If I needed help sometime, you’d be right there for me.”

              “Absolutely,” Harry agreed.

              “So,” she looked back to Tag, “if, say, someone was chasing me, I should give you guys a call.”

              “Josie,” he muttered under his breath.

              “Or, what if someone was climbing in my window?”

              Lowell frowned, “You have that problem often?”

              She laughed, “Not me, but my sister does on occasion.”

              Tag took her shoulders and turned her away from the men, “Go find your friend, Josephine.”

              She started to walk away, but she made a quick u-turn, “It was nice to meet you, Malachi.”

              She looked at the other two, “Sergeant Lutz, Harry,” she smirked. “Thaddeus.”

              Tag watched her walk away and then sat heavily in his seat.

              Josie turned back to see Harry laughing. Lowell was shaking his head in a manner that told Josie the man knew there was something going on, and he didn’t approve.

              Malachi just looked confused, “How’d she know your name?”