Protecting Her Son. Joan Kilby

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СКАЧАТЬ Riley said. “I hear she’s trouble.”

      Rumors had been flying about this woman for weeks that she was bent. Until her fall from grace seven years ago she’d been a hotshot detective at the Melbourne Police Department. Her infraction, related to her final investigation, a covert drug bust, was apparently so serious it was never made public. No one knew exactly what she’d done but they all agreed it had to be bad.

      “I’ll take her.” Delinsky combed his hair in front of the mirror. “She’s a babe. You should see her ass.”

      The door opened and Senior Sergeant John Forster entered. “Delinsky, I hope you weren’t referring to our new recruit in such crass manner. These walls aren’t soundproof.”

      John Forster was tall, with a swimmer’s shoulders and sun-streaked blond air. He might look like a surfer dude but he commanded the men’s respect.

      Delinsky wiped the leer off his face. “No, boss.”

      “Listen up, men.” John looked to each in turn.

      Jackson hastily tucked in his shirt. Crucek rose from the bench and put his clipboard with the footy pool in his locker. Even Riley, who’d been best mates with John since high school, came to attention.

      “I want to go over the new roster,” John said. “Jackson, from today you’re partnered with Crucek. Delinsky, Stan Grant is switching from night shift to partner you. You boys okay with that?”

      The men exchanged glances then nodded. But Riley knew no one liked a shake-up, least of all him. He was a little pissed, to tell the truth. Over the past six months he’d gotten to know Jackson, liked and respected him. He’d expected they’d be partners for a good long time. Now the stability and continuity he craved since getting out of the army had been ripped away.

      John turned to Riley. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to your new partner, Paula Drummond.”

      A chorus of whoops and jeers from all but Riley met this news. John cleared his throat pointedly and the noise died down. “Dismissed.”

      The men went about the business of getting ready to go on duty. Riley followed John out to the bull pen, an open area of desks, computers, photocopiers and filing cabinets. Over in Dispatch, red-haired Patty answered the telephone with her distinctive Irish lilt. A couple of admin staff were talking by the copier.

      “Why me?” Riley asked as he and John wove through the desks to John’s office on the far side of the bull pen. “I’m the new guy on the block.”

      “Our new recruit has had a rough road over the past seven years,” John said. “She’s had trouble fitting in. I picked you because you get along well with people. I want you to turn on the charm. Make her feel welcome.”

      Riley was tempted to play the friendship card and ask to stay with Jackson. But he’d been trained to follow orders, to put on his soldier face and say yes, boss. Still, he couldn’t resist a dig. “So this is my reward for being Mr. Nice Guy? Thanks, mate.”

      John glanced around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. No one was paying attention. “I also want you to keep an eye on her. This is strictly off the record. I know I can trust you to be discreet.”

      Riley considered that. John trusted him with extra responsibility—good. But having to watch another cop for wrong-doing? Bad. Who wanted a partner who wasn’t straight up? “Are you afraid that whatever she did, she’ll do again?”

      “I’m not going to prejudge her. But I have the integrity of this station to consider. My attitude is welcoming but cautious.”

      “What’s the deal with her anyway? What kind of wrong turn did she take?” Riley didn’t have a lot of time for people who screwed up professionally. In the army, if you screwed up, people could die.

      “I wasn’t given the details. She doesn’t talk about her past. She’s a single mum with a young son who wants to start fresh. We’re going to give her a fair go. You probably won’t be with her for long. She applied for detective and sat the exams at her last station. Most likely she’ll get the promotion and be out of your hair in a few weeks. Okay?”

      “Who’s in charge, her or me?” Going from leading a platoon to being a beat cop meant Riley had taken a step down, career-wise. For the moment he was okay with that but he liked to know where he stood.

      “She’s got years more experience. But you’ve been with the department longer.” John mulled it over. “Let’s just say you’re equal partners.”

      “Suits me.”

      Riley passed young rookie Simon Peterson seated at a computer laboriously typing out a report, and gave him a commiserating grin. The endless paperwork of police work was annoying. But the Summerside force was a good place—too small for corruption to flourish the way it did in some of the big city stations. Riley felt at home here. And he liked working with a small team of dedicated people who believed in what they were doing.

      Which begged the question, how was he going to believe in what he was doing partnered with a cop who might not be trustworthy? He and this woman were supposed to be equal and yet he was being asked to keep an eye on her. How did he do that and still develop the bond of trust he needed to do his job?

      The more he thought about it, the more distasteful he found his situation. He didn’t blame John, who was only trying to do what was best for the station. No, it was Paula Drummond who had gotten herself in trouble. There was no smoke without a fire, as the saying went. And now he had to compromise his integrity for her.

      Inside John’s office, a woman in uniform stood with her back to them, gazing through the partially open blinds at the main street of the village. She was tall and athletic-looking with her blonde hair pinned tightly back. Her stance appeared casual but for the rigid set of her shoulders and her white-knuckled grip on the window ledge.

      Outside, the morning rush hour was in full swing. Riley guessed there must be, oh, four or five cars backed up at the town’s only set of traffic lights. It was a typical morning in late summer—shoppers going about their business, newly-liberated mums having coffee in the sidewalk cafés, seniors gossiping on the wrought-iron benches beneath shady trees. Nothing Riley could see that would cause the new recruit to be so tense.

      Hearing their footsteps she turned. She had blue eyes with enough crinkle at the corners to suggest she’d seen everything yet still found humor in life, an assertive nose and full lips lightly glossed. Riley schooled himself not to react. Delinsky was right. She was hot. Put a dress on her, let her hair down, and she’d be right…kissable. Not that he’d ever get busy with a coworker. He happened to agree with the unspoken rule that cops didn’t screw their partners—in any sense of the word.

      John made the introductions. A phone call interrupted and he excused himself to take it. His murmured conversation faded into the background.

      Riley nodded to Paula, extending his hand. “G’day.”

      Her gaze took in the rank on his uniform. “A rookie. Excellent.” Not, her blue eyes added silently. Her firm grasp brought a jolt of awareness, a primal zing of flesh on flesh he wasn’t expecting.

      “An ex-detective,” he replied with subtle emphasis. He squeezed hard, feeling the softness of the skin on the backs of her fingers. “I’m sure you can teach me a lot.”

      Riley СКАЧАТЬ