The Lawman Read online

  * * *

  CLUB TIMES

  For Members’ Eyes Only

  Bless you, Jake White!

  I need to publicly thank Officer Jake White for helping me reach the box of tissues in the grocery store yesterday. This tall drink of water was a good man to have around when the going got rough, namely when allergy season hit, thus my need for tissues. Between nose-blowings and coughing, I did manage to ask him if he was single. He gave me a strange look, then walked away. When I threw out an invitation for barbecue, he waved his hand at me. Men…

  Thank goodness hospital administrator Tabitha Monroe calmed my ruffled feathers, saying that Jake was a busy cop. I noticed when she said his name, she blushed a little and kept stuttering. Could there be love in the air, as well as pollen?

  Finally, I’d like to make something perfectly clear. A spaceship from Planet Zykstra has not landed on the ninth tee of the Lone Star Country Club golf course. The group of elders who’ve parked their lawn chairs out on the grass must vacate the premises immediately. We’re investigating possible contamination of Widow Johnson’s lemonade. We realize that it’s an excellent brew, but this is the limit.

  Whatever the season, come to the Lone Star Country Club and soothe away those Texas-size worries with a nice sauna and lunch at the Yellow Rose Café.

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  About the Author

  Even though her upbringing is pure Southern, MARTHA SHIELDS loves to write about cowboys. So she jumped at the chance to work on the LONE STAR COUNTRY CLUB series. She was disappointed but not daunted when she realized that Jake White—her hero in The Lawman—is a cop by profession, not a cowboy. Martha believes that being a cowboy is a state of mind. Jake knows exactly what he wants, and he’s not afraid to go after it. He knows right from wrong, and isn’t afraid to stand up for what he believes. It’s that clear-thinking cowboy courage that Martha tries to put into all her heroes, whatever they do for a living. It’s what makes her fall in love with each of them.

  Martha lives in Memphis, Tennessee. During the day, she tries to make college courses sound exciting, and at night, she escapes the pressures of the day by weaving tales of romantic worlds, hoping readers can do the same.

  MARTHA SHIELDS

  THE LAWMAN

  Welcome to the

  Where Texas society reigns supreme—and appearances are everything.

  A hostage crisis wreaks havoc at Mission Creek Memorial Hospital….

  Jake White: This unrelenting cop’s mission is to bring down those who commit senseless crimes. So when he’s called to Mission Creek Memorial Hospital, he has every intention of putting the maniacal perpetrator behind bars. But locking lips with a beautiful hospital administrator wasn’t part of the plan….

  Tabitha Monroe: Working side by side with gruffly gorgeous Jake White during this hospital crisis was sweet torture! Personal experience cautioned her that getting involved with a cop was a one-way ticket to heartbreak. But as the danger—and their sizzling attraction—intensified, could she resist the potent allure of this mesmerizing lawman?

  Branson Hines: This psychopath is at large with two innocent victims. How far will he go if his ransom demands aren’t met?

  Caitlyn Matthews and Sam Walters: Will these hostages cave in to their mutual desire during a life-and-death ordeal?

  To the brave officers of the Memphis Police Department, with special thanks to Ernest Lancaster and David Baldovin.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  One

  Tabitha Monroe knew the instant Assistant Chief of Police Jake White arrived.

  The tension filling the air changed so suddenly, so drastically, it was as if a hot South Texas wind had blown in from across the Rio Grande fifty miles to the west.

  The police officials flanking her on the dais—from Mission Creek’s well-staffed but hostage-inexperienced force—relaxed noticeably. They’d called Assistant Chief White in from his vacation and had been trying to put the press conference off until his return. But the media, which had been gathering from all over Texas throughout the night before, had been clamoring for information.

  The transformed air held more than relief, however. On top of the fear, concern and desperation, inherent in a discussion of an armed madman disappearing with hostages, floated an element of excitement, of restlessness that seemed almost…sexual.

  Taken aback by the thought so inappropriate to the situation at hand—and so foreign to her personally—Tabitha hesitated in the middle of answering a question and scanned the crowd of reporters. They’d come, it seemed, from every news agency around the country since news had leaked of yesterday’s unusual hostage situation and kidnapping at Mission Creek Memorial Hospital. Her hospital.

  Though she’d never met Jake White and had no idea what he looked like, she knew him the instant her gaze locked on to light-colored eyes framed with dark lashes.

  Steady, strong, assessing, his gaze bored into hers and, for an instant, the rest of the room disappeared.

  A delicious shiver ruffled the hairs on Tabitha’s skin, which became flushed with blood shot from a heart that suddenly beat as if her morning coffee had been laced with speed.

  Now she knew where the sexual energy was coming from. It was as if Jake telegraphed desire across invisible wires stretching over the heads of the crowd.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Police Chief Burl Terry motion to his second-in-command to come forward.

  “Miss Monroe?”

  The reporter’s voice barely penetrated Tabitha’s frozen stupor.

  What was wrong with her? Jake White was a cop. She’d never had a sexual thought about a cop in her life. She wasn’t about to start now.

  Tabitha tore her gaze from the cop at the back of the room, but not before she saw him give a small “not now” wave to the chief.

  They’d called him in to take command, hadn’t they? What was he waiting for? For her to screw up?

  You can’t do anything right.

  She could hear her father’s voice as clearly as if he were in the room, rather than under six feet of Texas soil, the bullet that had killed him still lodged in his heart.

  “Miss Monroe?”

  With an effort, Tabitha focused on the crowd of reporters and for an alarming instant couldn’t remember the question she’d been answering or even the reporter who’d asked it. “Yes?”

  One young man in front helped her out by saying, “You were about to tell us what precautions the hospital was making to keep Branson Hines out.”

  “Thank you. Yes.” Tabitha took a deep breath. “Mission Creek Police Chief Burl Terry has assured me that all entrances are sealed. Everyone will be searched when they enter the hospital, just as each of you were.”

  “Is that going to be enough?” asked another reporter, a woman from a national news agency. “Weren’t Mission Creek police guarding the hospital against Mr. Hines yesterday? And if I’m not mistaken, he escaped from the police about a month ago after almost kidnapping the son of your hospital fund-raiser—” she looked down at her notes “—Crystal Bennett.”

  Tabitha glanced at Jake White, who watched her intently, then at Chief Terry, who did not look pleased at having the quality of his men questioned.

  Chief Terry stepped over to the microphone. “Hin
es was being escorted to the maximum-security prison in Lubbock by state troopers when he managed to escape. There were APBs put out, and police all over the state were looking for him. Nothing’s gonna get through my boys. I guaran-damn-tee you that.”

  Smiling with what she hoped looked like confidence, Tabitha returned to the mike. “I have every faith in the Mission Creek Police Department.”

  Though she wasn’t looking directly at him, she saw Assistant Chief White’s tiny nod. His obvious approval made her heart swell with pride, which she quickly quashed. She was thirty-five, not fifteen. She didn’t need anyone’s approval, much less a cop’s.

  Hands raised immediately.

  Tabitha pointed at another reporter, though all she wanted to do was end the press conference. She’d already said everything there was to say. “You, in the white blouse.”

  “Can you tell us a little more about the two hostages?” the woman asked. “Did you know them personally?”

  “I do know them. I know all my employees personally. But I have to admit I know Caitlyn Matthews better than Dr. Walters. She’s a lovely young woman and one of the best pediatric nurses we have.” Tabitha swallowed her emotions and continued. “I’ll do anything in my power to get the hostages back. Safely back.”

  The sudden frown on Jake White’s face alarmed her. Had she said something wrong?

  “The ransom Mr. Hines is demanding is a baby from the hospital nursery, isn’t it?” a male reporter called. “Surely you’re not planning to give him one.”

  “Of course not.” Tabitha straightened. “The demand is preposterous. There’s no way we can—”

  “The press conference is officially over.”

  The loud announcement from the back of the room caught everyone, including Tabitha, by surprise. Since only one person could have given the command, her eyes immediately sought Jake White. He strode toward the podium, separating the crowd of reporters like Moses parting the Red Sea.

  Suddenly she was twelve again, giving a report at a Girl Scout meeting that should have earned her the astronomy badge. She looked up from her notes and saw her father storming into the room. He grabbed her by her green cotton collar and dragged her from the room, growling that she had to go home and clean up the mess she’d made cooking his supper.

  She never went to a meeting again.

  Forcing the image away, Tabitha’s eyes narrowed as she watched Jake approach.

  Every head in the room swung to watch him. Cameras tracked his progress to the dais. Reporters threw questions at him as he passed.

  He ignored them all and just kept coming.

  Chief Terry tapped Tabitha on the shoulder. Startled, she glanced at him. Since he obviously wanted the mike, she stepped back.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the chief said with obvious relief, “I’d like to introduce Assistant Police Chief Jake White of the Mission Creek Police Department. Assistant Chief White is a much-decorated veteran of the Houston and Mission Creek police departments and has extensive experience in hostage situations. He’s going to be the point man for the current crisis.”

  Assistant Chief White took the two steps leading up to the podium in one. Before turning to the crowd, he paused and met Tabitha’s gaze.

  Her breath froze in her lungs at the intensity in his pale green eyes. The shouting of reporters dimmed to an indecipherable clamor, background noise that seemed to have nothing to do with them.

  After what seemed like hours but in reality was probably just a few seconds, Jake gave her a small smile and nod, then turned away.

  Air whooshed into Tabitha’s lungs, sending shards of heat spiking through her. She knew the sudden flush would be evident on her pale complexion and was thankful that Jake was now in the spotlight instead of her. No matter how rudely he’d commandeered it.

  For goodness’ sake, what was wrong with her? She was in the most crucial situation she’d ever been in, would likely ever be in. A situation that could make or break her career as a hospital administrator. And she was acting about as professional as a teenager ogling a boy from behind the counter of a fast-food restaurant.

  In walked Jake and—

  Tabitha barely restrained a groan.

  When had he become Jake instead of Assistant Chief White?

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  She wasn’t interested in this man, no matter how attractive he was. No matter how attracted he seemed to be to her. No matter how chiseled his jaw. No matter how his jeans stretched across his tight rear end. No matter how broad his shoulders were in the dark green golf shirt that stretched across his back and molded to muscles that had her fingers aching to—

  Tabitha cut herself off with a silent curse.

  She couldn’t be interested in this man. He was a cop, for heaven’s sake, right down to his bones. She would have recognized the signs even if she hadn’t already known.

  The arrogance. The swaggering confidence. The ability to silence a room with a single sentence. The ability to make her want to please him.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  There was no way in hell she was interested in this man. She was immune to cops. She’d had eighteen long years of daily inoculations.

  Pulling her mind away from the past—her only defense against the emotional damage her father had done to her—Tabitha concentrated on the proceedings.

  She was going to be working closely with this man for who knew how long—until Cait and Dr. Walters were safely home—so it was imperative that she keep this on a professional level.

  Assistant Chief White had answered several questions about his experience with hostage situations, and when he’d said his piece, he ended the press conference. “We’ll keep you informed. There’ll be two daily press conferences, morning and afternoon. More if there are any significant developments.”

  The reporters continued shouting questions, but Jake turned his back on them. His eyes sought Tabitha first, then his attention was pulled away by Burl Terry. He conferred for a moment with his boss, then stepped over to Tabitha. He gestured toward the dais steps. “Miss Monroe.”

  Tabitha lifted her chin. She was not going to let him escort her out of here by the scruff of her collar. “Why did you cut me off so rudely?”

  His right eyebrow quirked upward. “There are reasons. Please…”

  Again he indicated the steps.

  Tabitha frowned. He said please. Her father had never said please, or thank-you.

  Okay, so he was a polite cop. He was still a cop. “What reasons?”

  “We’ll discuss them in your office.”

  “I want to know n—”

  “Not here. You don’t know how sensitive these mikes are. We have a lot more than that to discuss, but I’d like to do it in the privacy of your office. Please show me the way.”

  Tabitha nodded once, briefly, then stepped down from the dais. He was being perfectly logical and reasonable. She had to be the same. She couldn’t let what had happened to her in the past color the present situation. The one thing had nothing to do with the other.

  Stepping onto the carpet, Tabitha was surrounded by an impenetrable wall of reporters, half of whom shoved microphones in her face and shouted questions. Each tried to be heard over the others, but the result was cacophony.

  Suddenly Jake’s hand connected firmly with the small of her back. The electrical charge that shot up Tabitha’s spine made her eyes widen and the breath catch in her throat. She couldn’t answer a question even if she was able to distinguish one reporter’s voice from the others.

  Jake put out one arm like a shield in front of her and began pushing their way through the crowd. “No more questions now. We’ll let you know if something happens.”

  His deep bass voice carried easily under the strident cries of the reporters who, miraculously, let them pass.

  After the shock of his touch was over, when she realized it wasn’t intended to be sexual—though it sure as heck felt sexual—Tabitha relaxed and let Jake guide her t
hrough the reporters and out the door.

  “Tough crowd, huh?”

  She glanced at him, but his attention was down the hall. “I can’t believe there are so many.”

  He shrugged. “It’s Hines’s demand. Babies always make good copy.”

  Police officers were stationed at close intervals down the hall. They all smiled at Jake as they walked toward the elevators or told him how relieved they were he’d finally made it. Tabitha could see it in their eyes. Jake’s presence made them feel safe, made them feel that everything was going to be all right.

  Jake White had served on the Mission Creek Police Department for over a year, and the department had full confidence in his ability to handle the situation.

  Tabitha didn’t feel safe until they entered the sanctuary of her office.

  Jake didn’t realize he still had his hand on Tabitha’s back until he paused at the door of her office and she stepped away from him.

  His hand suddenly felt cold, bereft.

  Jake cursed under his breath. This shouldn’t be happening. The first rule of hostage negotiation was never get emotionally involved with anyone connected to the hostages. Not only was it unprofessional, not only did it cloud your vision and color your decisions, but relationships forged in crisis situations were doomed from the start.

  Not that he wanted anything heavy. A failed marriage had taught him that he was too dedicated a cop to be dedicated to a family.

  Still he hadn’t had a steady girlfriend since moving to Mission Creek over a year ago. He missed having someone to have dinner with when he wasn’t working. Someone who gave a damn whether he came home at night, or came home at all. Regular sex.

  With that thought, Jake’s gaze dropped to Tabitha’s cute little butt swaying across the room as she retreated to the power position behind her desk. But it wasn’t her butt that had first caught his libido’s attention.