Just For Now Read online

  Slamming his fist into the nearest wall, Julio let off another string of expletives. The blond bitch steals his son and has him thrown in that hole of a prison and she thinks she can get away with it? No! No one treats Julio Martinez like a dog! The bitch would pay—he’d see to that.

  “How did you know he wouldn’t blow up the school?” the frightened principal asked, squinting up at the tall blond Englishman.

  “Because he just escaped prison late last night. There was no way he had time to set a bomb,” Joe replied. The woman just nodded, and walked away wringing her hands.

  Joe’s cell phone rang.

  “’Lo.”

  “Is it clear?” Rick asked, his voice tense.

  “Yeah, it’s clear,” Joe replied, beckoning Mikeyla to him as he talked. “Keyl is fine. I’ll have her at the office in about twenty minutes. You can both relax for now.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Rick had made Midnight stay in the office, afraid that if she showed up at the school, Martinez would try to take her out again. In turn, Midnight had insisted that Rick stay too, afraid that Martinez would be all too happy to take out her spouse.

  Midnight had the area scoured, but Martinez had cleared out. None of them slept well that night.

  ***

  Jeanie Franco wasn’t sleeping well either. She’d received a letter that day that she’d been waiting for, but now she wasn’t sure what to do. The letter had come to her mother’s house, which she’d given as her mailing address. Her mother had called that afternoon, waking her up. Jeanie had thrown on sweatpants and a T-shirt and driven over to pick it up.

  The letter was from Alcoholic Beverage Control, and they were offering her a job as an investigator. It was exactly what she wanted. It was a chance to get away from the hideous job of patrol, which she hated, and her FTO, who was a total male chauvinist jerk. It was a chance to do investigation work and make cases, like she’d helped Donovan to do three years before. There was only one major catch—the job was in San Francisco.

  Jeanie hadn’t told Donovan she was applying. In truth, she didn’t believe at first that she’d actually have a chance. One of the guys at the department who had been in her academy class had told her he was going for it. He’d said that if she was smart, she’d do the same; it was a chance to get out of patrol. Of course, that guy was lucky enough to get assigned to San Diego. The man at the field office for ABC had told her when she’d picked up the application that there were still a couple of spots left in San Diego, so she’d gone ahead and applied. By the time she’d taken the written exam, however, those spots had been filled, and she’d known she was applying for a job out of town.

  A couple of months before, while Donovan was on a case, she’d gone up to San Francisco for the oral interview and physical agility. She’d told him she was visiting friends. While she’d been there, she’d picked up information on San Francisco Police Department’s narcotics unit, thinking that on the off chance she got the job with ABC, Donovan could easily get on with SFPD.

  Now that she’d actually been offered a job, though, she was terrified. She knew she should have told Donovan about this long before now. But in the end it had been easier just to continue the process and “see what happens.” Now it had happened, and now she needed to tell Donovan. She’d spent a lot of nights awake trying to figure out how to approach it. The date she was to report to the ABC academy in Huntington Beach was fast approaching, and she couldn’t wait anymore.

  When Donovan came in that night he noted that Jeanie had ordered Chinese food, all his favorites. He was fairly pleased, since he’d had a long day at work and didn’t feel like cooking. He’d been thinking he’d take her to dinner, since it was her night off, but this was better. They ate together at the dining room table, talking about work, and about what had happened that day with Midnight’s daughter. Julio Martinez brought up a lot of terrifying memories for Jeanie as well, making her remember the night she’d heard that a San Diego police officer had been killed in Mexico, knowing that Donovan and Midnight were down there. At the time, the news hadn’t announced which officer had been killed. She had had no idea if it had been Donovan. In the end, she’d made her brother take her to Mexico so she could find out.

  Donovan had been thrown through a plate-glass window in the blast, but had survived it with mostly minor cuts and some injury to his back. He’d been extremely lucky. Jeanie had been extremely grateful to the powers that be. It had been then that she’d been sure that she loved him. The trip they had taken after that horrible time had been when Donovan asked her to marry him. She still loved him every bit as much as she had then. That was why she was convinced that this would work out.

  After dinner they moved to the couch, drinking wine and still talking. That eventually proceeded to kissing. Not long after that, Donovan carried her to their bed and made love to her. Afterward, she knew she needed to talk to him. Every minute that passed made her feel like she was lying to him by not saying anything.

  “Donovan?” she began quietly. She lay on her side, her back against his chest, his arms encircling her.

  “Mmm?” he murmured sleepily, his lips against her neck.

  Jeanie turned over to face him. The hall light was still on, so she could see him clearly in the dimness.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay,” he said, grinning as his hand slid over her hip to her waist, pulling her close to him again and kissing her forehead. “Talk.” His voice was soft and languid; he was very relaxed.

  “What do you think of San Francisco?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

  Donovan blinked a couple of times, trying to assimilate the question.

  “San Francisco?” he repeated.

  “You know, the city,” Jeanie supplied, grinning to try and keep the mood light.

  “Oh yeah, the city.” Donovan grinned in return, then shrugged. “Haven’t thought much about it. I’ve only been there once.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “It was alright. Why?” Donovan asked, still not comprehending this line of questioning, thinking she wanted to go on vacation or something.

  “Would you ever consider living there?”

  Donovan laughed lightly. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Well,” Jeanie said, biting her lip again and looking up at him. “Because I might be going there.”

  “What for?” Donovan asked, his tone deepening now.

  “For a job, Donovan,” Jeanie said, her voice beseeching him to hear her out. “I’ve been offered a job with Alcoholic Beverage Control as an investigator, but it’s in San Francisco.”

  “Offered a job?” Donovan echoed, his brows furrowing, the investigator in him coming out immediately. “How did this happen?”

  “Well, I applied,” Jeanie said, trying to keep it simple—but it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  “When?”

  “I…” Jeanie began. She knew she was in the wrong right now, and that there was no way out of the truth. “I applied three months ago.”

  Donovan’s expression changed, and she could sense his anger. “And when did you plan to tell me?”

  “I didn’t think I was going to get the job.”

  “So why not tell me?”

  “I just… I don’t know,” Jeanie said, feeling trapped. “I just wanted to see if I’d get on, then figure out if I was going to take it.”

  Donovan nodded, his face a mask of disbelief, his teal eyes narrowed.

  “Donovan,” Jeanie went on, grasping at her one hope. “I checked out San Francisco PD’s narcotics unit—they have a huge one—and I know—”

  “You checked it out? When?” Donovan’s eyes narrowed further, and the ice crept into his voice. “You mean when you were ‘visiting friends’ in San Francisco?”

  Jeanie’s eyes widened. She knew she’d just been caught in a lie. “Donovan, I just didn’t—”

  “You lied to me, Jeanie. Why?” His voice was so cold she could feel it, and suddenly she knew she had to convince him that San Francisco PD would work for him.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t want to tell you just then. But look, SFPD is one of the biggest departments in the country. Their narcotics unit is huge—you could get on with them no problem. The guy in personnel told me they always need experienced narcs.”

  “I already have a job, Jeanie,” Donovan said, moving to sit up.

  Jeanie sat too, grabbing her shirt to pull it on. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with him while she was naked.

  “I know that, Donovan, but you could have one there too.”

  “Now, why would I want to do that?” Donovan was looking down at her as if he didn’t even know her anymore.

  Jeanie stared up at him, so surprised by his attitude that she didn’t know what to say.

  “See, I have a job here, and a house here, and a life here, Jeanie.”

  “Donovan…” Jeanie began, trying a different tack. “You know I hate patrol—I can’t do it anymore. I swear I’m going to shoot my FTO soon. You have to understand that!”

  “Oh, I understand,” Donovan said, his tone not indicating understanding at all. “I understand that you want things right now, that you don’t want to put in the time to get what you want.”

  “That’s not fair,” Jeanie said, hurt.

  “No, Jay, that’s the thing—it is fair. You can’t be an investigator without putting in the time on the street. You need that time on the street to teach you things they can’t teach in the academy.”

  “Bullshit!” Jeanie shouted. “All I’m learning from that asshole I have for an FTO is that women don’t belong in law enforcement. That we’re all just being indulged because the chief is a woman. That we don’t really do law enforcem
ent, that we’re all window dressing.”

  Donovan sat back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. “I told you to go talk to Joe or even Midnight about the guy’s attitude.”

  “No, Donovan, I’m not going running to Joe or Midnight every time I have a problem,” Jeanie snapped.

  “No, you’ll just run away.”

  Jeanie sucked in her breath. She wasn’t running away; she was doing something for herself.

  “I want to be an investigator. I know I can do it. I had hoped you’d support me on this. I support you in what you do.”

  Donovan’s eyes locked with hers as he stared back at her for a long moment. “I guess the main difference here is I never asked you to quit your job and leave your life behind for me. It’s pretty easy to be supportive when you don’t have to change anything to do it.”

  That made Jeanie mad, because in truth he was right—but that he’d pointed it out was just unfair as far as she could see.

  “You’re just jealous!” she shouted.

  “Jealous? Of what?”

  “That I’m going to make investigator after only a year, and it took you six.”

  It was as if she’d slapped him. She could literally see him shut down. Without a word he got up, picked up his discarded clothes, and went into the bathroom. Jeanie sat on the bed, tears stinging her cheeks. She knew she’d said the wrong thing, that it wasn’t true, but she’d been mad and had wanted to hurt him, like he’d hurt her by not being supportive. When he emerged a few minutes later, he was dressed. He sat down on the bed and put his boots on. He didn’t say a word.

  When he stood and walked over to his dresser to put his holster in its place and find his keys, Jeanie said, “Donovan…”

  He simply held up his hand. He grabbed his keys, clipped his badge in place, and walked out.

  Donovan didn’t come home that night; Jeanie didn’t know where he stayed. She did her best not to worry. She was scared now; Donovan had never stayed out all night, and she knew she’d gone too far in their argument.

  She slept fitfully and was awake at dawn when he walked into the bedroom. She watched as he took off his clothes and went into the bathroom. The shower started up. Lying in their bed, she wondered what to do. She wanted this chance to do investigative work. The man in personnel she’d talked to had said that maybe after a year she could transfer to the San Diego field office.

  So maybe she and Donovan would have to do some kind of long-distance relationship thing. Maybe some distance would do them some good. Give them a chance to miss each other some. She purposely ignored the fact that they already had that, since they worked opposite shifts. A year really wasn’t a long time, and San Francisco was only about an hour and twenty minutes away by plane. They could do this!

  By the time Donovan got out of the shower, Jeanie had convinced herself it would work. She was sitting up in bed when he came out. Donovan didn’t even glance at her as he walked over to the closet and pulled out clothes for the day. She watched as he dressed in black jeans and a gray sweater. It always occurred to her when she watched him that she was lucky to have him. He was handsome, sweet, considerate, funny, an excellent cook and lover, and a good friend.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice loud in the quiet room.

  Donovan didn’t even look at her, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his socks and black Doc Martens.

  “Donovan,” Jeanie said, her voice coaxing. “Look, I’m sorry I said what I did last night—I didn’t mean it. I was mad, and it just came out.”

  Donovan nodded, his face still set in stone.

  Jeanie took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to make this easy, was he? “Okay, look, I’ve been thinking about it, and we can still do this. I mean, I can go to San Francisco, and we can see each other on weekends and stuff. It’s only an hour and twenty minutes by plane, you know.” When he didn’t answer, she went on, hoping that he was actually digesting what she was saying. “I mean, right now, we don’t see each other a lot anyway, right? So when we see each other we’ll have lots to talk about and lots to make up time for…” She trailed off as he looked up at her, an expression of incredulity on his face.

  “You’ve already accepted the job, haven’t you?” he said.

  All the hope she’d been building up crashed around her. She felt absolutely sick as she nodded slowly.

  Donovan opened his mouth as if to say something, then just shook his head in disbelief. Again, he stood up without another word, picked up his badge, holster, and keys, and walked out. Jeanie lay down on the bed, knowing she’d made a mistake and not sure she could undo it even if she wanted to. It had never occurred to her that accepting the job before talking to Donovan would be construed as a betrayal. But seeing it now, through his eyes, it was. She’d accepted a job in another city and had expected him to be more than willing to move for her. After all, he could be a narc anywhere, right? She had been wrong, more wrong than she’d ever been before, and she began to wonder how much she was going to regret it.

  “Sergeant Templeton?” Kyle inquired as he walked into the office.

  Rhiannon turned around from her computer. “Yes, sir?”

  Kyle was taken aback again by the rich green of her eyes and the haunted look they held. Did she never have a happy moment?

  “Midnight asked me to come down and talk to you about working on the departmental inventory. Do you have a few minutes?” he asked.

  “Of course, sir, no problem,” Rhiannon said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk and reaching for her pad and pen.

  “Thank you, Sergeant.” Kyle sat down, looking crisp in his black slacks and white dress shirt. “May I call you Rhiannon? ‘Sergeant’ is cumbersome and seems too formal to me.”

  “Certainly, sir,” Rhiannon said, still sounding very formal.

  “If it won’t short your circuits out,” Kyle said, smiling engagingly, “you could call me Kyle.”

  Rhiannon hesitated for a moment, then grinned self-consciously as she realized how militant she’d sounded. “Sorry.”

  “No problem,” Kyle replied easily. “Now, could you tell me a little bit about the inventory program, and what your plans are?”

  “Sure, sir—ah, I mean, Kyle,” she said, grinning again.

  She proceeded to educate Kyle on the departmental inventory, explaining in general at first, then more in depth when he questioned her further. She was amazed by his quick mind; he was able to grasp the entire process the first time she explained it, asking intelligent questions. He brought up situations that could pose problems, many of which Rhiannon herself had been grappling with.

  Over the next two hours, it became very evident to Rhiannon why Kyle Masterson had been hired as the new Assistant Chief. He was intelligent, decisive, able to grasp the most intricate problem but still see the big picture. Rhiannon was impressed.

  After two hours, Kyle glanced at his watch, realizing it was well into lunchtime.

  “Rhiannon, I’m afraid I’ve infringed on your break,” he said, looking chagrined.

  “That’s okay, sir. I don’t usually go anywhere for lunch, or even eat lunch for that matter.”

  “You don’t eat lunch?” Kyle asked, ignoring the fact that she’d called him sir again.

  Rhiannon shrugged. “If I do, it’s here at my desk. As you can see,” she said, gesturing at the piles of paperwork around her, “I have plenty to keep me busy.” It wasn’t a complaint, merely a statement.

  Kyle nodded, looking thoughtful. “Can I borrow your phone?”

  “Certainly.”

  Kyle pulled out his date book, looking in the back. He dialed a number and ordered lunch for the two of them to be delivered, keeping it simple with turkey sandwiches, chips, and bottled water, with condiments on the side.

  Hanging up the phone, he looked at her as she sat staring openmouthed at him. “We have work to do.”

  “But, sir…” Rhiannon began helplessly.

  “Teach me,” Kyle said as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and began rolling them up.

  Rhiannon looked aghast. “You’re a chief!”

  Kyle raised an eyebrow at her. “You think I forgot?”

  “No, but… this is just simple property work, not really chief work.”