The Lawman Read online

  Tabitha turned to face him, her incredibly blue eyes wide and questioning.

  It was that damned mole.

  He’d spotted Tabitha’s mole the instant he’d walked in the door of the conference room downstairs, and his body had reacted the same way it reacted years ago when he’d first laid eyes on a picture of Marilyn Monroe.

  He’d had a weakness for women with moles ever since then. Especially when the woman who sported the mole had a lush body like Marilyn’s, made for a man’s hands to roam. He was not attracted to model-thin women. He wanted a woman to have curves, not angles.

  Tabitha Monroe had plenty of curves. He could tell even through the navy-blue silk designer suit she wore.

  There were other similarities. Tabitha had the same last name as Marilyn. Hell, she even vaguely resembled the movie star.

  Tabitha’s blond hair wasn’t Marilyn’s bleached blond, but it was shoulder length and worn in the soft curls similar to the actress’s in one of his favorite photos, taken in the late 1940s. Tabitha’s mouth—so close beside that feminine little mole—was wide, though her lips were pursed at the moment with what was undoubtedly worry. Her expression reminded him so much of Marilyn’s pout that all he could think of doing was sucking Tabitha’s bottom lip into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue.

  “Assistant Chief White?”

  Jake started back to reality. Reminded so rudely of the current situation and the futility of his desire, he spoke a little harsher than he meant to and before he thought through what he was going to say. “Call me Jake.”

  He was as surprised as she at the words that came out of his mouth.

  Why the hell had he said that? Using first names was definitely not in line with keeping things professional.

  Her little chin lifted. “There’s no need to growl at me. You’re the one who dragged me up here to lecture me on everything I did wrong at the press conference.”

  “I didn’t drag you,” he said defensively. “And I certainly didn’t bring you here to—”

  The sound of tinkling water distracted him. The gurgling was so out of place in an executive’s office, he glanced around for the source. In a corner behind Tabitha’s desk sat one of those small tabletop water fountains. Built like a mini Buddhist temple, the water ran down the steps on one side onto polished rocks below.

  His attention already diverted from Tabitha, he took advantage of sanity’s return and slowly looked around.

  At first glance, a visitor might just think she’d overdecorated with a Chinese motif. But Jake had worked for years with a tae kwon do master in Houston, and he knew better.

  Plants in colorful pots grew everywhere, including several bonsai. Mirrors and bamboo flutes hung on the walls. A menagerie of carved Chinese animals, including several dragons, were scattered here and there. A lighted fish tank hummed merrily on a green table. Round, faceted crystals suspended on the windows flashed spectrums around the room. Stones carved with Chinese calligraphy sat among the profusion.

  Several conversation areas were arranged around the large office. One round, one square, one with the furniture placed randomly. Each shape was supposed to generate a certain mood, but he had no idea what. He’d never paid that much attention.

  One of the groups sported a red couch, which he had to drag his eyes away from.

  His gaze making the full circle of the room back to Tabitha, he grinned. “You’ve feng shuied this place to death.”

  The amusement in his voice wasn’t lost on her, because her sky-blue eyes narrowed. “It’s not ‘shoey.’ It’s pronounced more like a Yiddish version of ‘sway.’ More like ‘shway.”’

  “I see.” He strolled around the room, running a finger along a jade dragon here, peering at a painting of a gnarled pine tree clinging to a mountainside there.

  “I have to see a lot of people in my office. Potential employees. Worried, sometimes grieving families. Vendors. I find it helps everyone if we can talk in harmonious surroundings.”

  “I see.” Interesting. Her voice was defensive. A little too sensitive about her decor?

  “It helps me, too. Very relaxing. You should try it sometime.”

  Jake hid a smile by bending over to peer into the fish tank. If defense doesn’t work, try offense. She was using one of his own favorite tactics.

  She stopped talking, and he smiled again. Silence. The best tactic of all. And it went so well with her Zen style of decorating.

  He straightened and twisted to say something, but his comment stuck in his throat when she dragged her eyes upward with a startled expression.

  She’d been checking out his butt.

  Heat seared through him.

  She cleared her throat. “Gardening is wonderful for reducing stress.”

  Okay. So they were going to ignore the sparks threatening to set all this feng shui on fire.

  Disappointed, but knowing it was the smartest thing to do, he moved to stand directly in front of her desk. “It’s hard to grow bonsai in a squad car.”

  “The plants don’t have to be bonsai. You could try it in your hou—”

  “I didn’t bring you up to your office to lecture you.”

  She blinked, then threw the meaningless words he’d used back in his face. “I see.”

  Damn, she was quick. The abrupt change of subject hadn’t thrown her, as he’d meant it to.

  That was good. Yet it wasn’t.

  The only thing he hadn’t liked about Marilyn Monroe was her weak sex-kitten nature. He was attracted to strong, smart women. Women who gave back as good as he gave. Women who caught on quickly to his games and played them every bit as hard as he did.

  When Cindy Crawford had burst on the scene, he’d quickly switched his allegiance to her. There was a brief two-year stint of unfaithfulness—his marriage to one of Houston’s prosecuting attorneys. But Jake barely counted that because his ex-wife’s name was Cindy. That was what he called her, anyway, even when she insisted on the more laywerlike Cynthia.

  “So why did you cut me off in midsentence and drag—Oh, pardon me. Why did you escort me up here?”

  “I had to end the press conference because you were about to cut off any hope for negotiation with Hines, and a hopeless hostage taker is a desperate hostage taker. No telling what he’ll do.”

  Tabitha frowned and finally sat, though only on the front few inches of her leather executive chair. “You mean by telling him I won’t give him a baby from the hospital’s maternity ward?”

  “Right.” She really did catch on quick. He was impressed…and turned on as hell.

  Damn. He needed to get out of here and cool off. Luckily he had the perfect excuse. He just had to take advantage of it before he did something stupid. Real stupid.

  Her eyes focused on his face. “But I won’t give him a baby.”

  “Of course you won’t.” Instead of walking out the door like he should have, Jake sat in one of the chairs facing her desk. “But you can’t tell Hines that. Especially not on national television. He’s taken hostages and threatened to kill them. If you cut off his options, he may feel he doesn’t have any choice but to do that.”

  “Oh, my.” Tabitha sucked in a tiny, horrified breath. “I haven’t killed Cait and Sam, have I?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Jake slid forward on the chair, barely stopping himself from reaching for the hands she’d splayed on her desk. “You did okay. I just needed to stop you before you went any further.”

  She studied him across the desk as if he were an alien whose antennae had suddenly popped from his head.

  She stared so long and so blatantly, he rubbed his chin. “Is my makeup coming off?”

  She blinked. “Makeup?”

  “The makeup that hides my purple scales. All the best space invaders are wearing them these days.”

  Color tinged her cheek and she dropped her gaze to her uncluttered desk. “Sorry.” Then she glanced back up. “You really think I did okay?”

  He tried not to frown
at this glimpse of insecurity. “Of course you did. You don’t know the rules of hostage negotiation, or how to use the media to help you win. That is, you don’t know the rules yet. After I check on what’s being done to find Hines, I’m going to give you a few lessons.”

  “I attended a crisis management seminar a few years ago.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. But believe me, you can’t learn in any seminar what you’re going to need to know in the next few days. You can only do it right when you’ve had a baptism of fire.”

  “I definitely want to do it right. I have to.”

  “You will. Don’t worry. I’ll be beside you every step of the way.”

  “Every step?”

  “Well…” His mind filled with images of where “every step” might lead them, like straight to the red couch against the wall.

  Damn, he had all the self-control of a thirteen-year-old.

  Jake frowned. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his self-control. “Maybe not every step.”

  They stared across the desk for several long seconds, the only sounds the tinkling water fountain, the hum of the fish tank and the whoosh of heavy breathing.

  Realizing the heavy breathing was his, Jake slapped his thighs and stood. “I need to check on things.”

  Tabitha’s spine straightened, making her several inches taller in the chair. “What things?”

  “Search tactics. Security measures. Telephone recording equipment.”

  “Whose conversations are you recording?”

  He hesitated before saying, “Yours.”

  “Mine?” Her eyes widened. “You think he’s going to call me? Because I’m in charge of the hospital?”

  Actually, there were several reasons Tabitha had made herself the focal point for Hines during the press conference. Jake was ninety-nine-percent certain Hines’s calls would be to her. But there was no point in worrying her now. There would be time enough to explain how things worked…and sometimes didn’t. “That’s part of the reason. I’ll explain everything when I get back. Be here. I don’t want you going anywhere without me. Understand?”

  She frowned. “I can’t just—”

  “Oh, yes, you can and you will. You’ll do everything I tell you. You’ll sit when I tell you to sit. You’ll eat when I tell you to eat. You’ll stay where I—”

  “Wait just a gosh darned minute!” Tabitha stood to face him. “I have a hospital to run, with over a hundred employees on every shift who—”

  “You have two employees who need you much more than all those hundreds put together.” Jake leaned toward her. “Two employees who are God knows where, shoved into God only knows what conditions. They’re definitely suffering mental anguish, but there may be physical pain, as well.”

  Tabitha sat again, hard. “Don’t say that. I can’t stand to think of them tortured.”

  Satisfied that he’d put the fear of God into her, Jake straightened. “Stay put. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “What if he calls?” She shivered.

  To keep from reaching for her, Jake turned toward the door. “He won’t. It’s too soon.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Trust me.”

  Silence accompanied him to the door, as did a feeling of eyes burning into his back. At the door, he couldn’t resist turning. Sure enough, she was watching him, though she wasn’t concentrating on his butt.

  Calling himself all kinds of a moron for feeling disappointed, he asked, “You okay?”

  She blinked, as if surprised to be asked. “Of course. I’m always okay.”

  He nodded, understanding more than she knew. She was a control freak just like him.

  Great. Two bullheaded people who had to pussyfoot around each other because all they wanted to do was rip each other’s clothes off. They couldn’t even acknowledge their desire, much less do anything about it.

  This was not going to be an easy job. Interesting, but definitely not easy.

  “Assistant Chief White?”

  “Yes? You can drop the ‘Assistant,’ by the way.”

  She nodded. “Do you really believe we’ll have them back in a few days?”

  “I hope so. Hines doesn’t have too many places to hide.”

  Her clenched fist struck the pad on her desk. “Jeez, I hate this! I feel so helpless.”

  “I know.” That was one feeling he knew very well.

  “If I had Branson Hines in my office for just five seconds, I’d—”

  “Feng shui him to death?”

  Tabitha’s gaze flicked guiltily around her office, then she let a deep breath out on a sigh. “Sorry.”

  “You’d turn him over to the closest police officer, like you should.” Jake smiled encouragingly. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your employees back.”

  “Promise?”

  He hesitated.

  “No. You can’t promise,” she said. “Anything can happen.”

  “That’s true.”

  Her frown deepened. “At least you didn’t try to lie to me.”

  Jake wasn’t above lying. Sometimes lying was kinder and made his job easier. With a sick feeling, however, he realized he didn’t want to lie to Tabitha. With an even sicker feeling, he realized he probably couldn’t.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” He hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.

  Her wince was barely noticeable. “Fine. Go.”

  Cussing inwardly at his sudden lack of self-control, he growled, “Stay in your office.”

  “Why should I, if Hines is not going to—”

  “Stay.” Before she could utter another syllable, Jake turned and strode from the room.

  Jake returned two hours later in a much better mood.

  He was riding a high that came from finally having something substantial to do, after a year of doing nothing but chasing drunk cowboys down jackrabbit holes.

  He’d known when he’d taken Burl’s offer that he’d be twiddling his thumbs for a couple of years. Burl had known it, too. That’s why he’d locked Jake in with a two-year contract. But the Mission Creek police chief had been so desperate for good leadership after the money-laundering scandal in the force here, he’d given Jake an offer he couldn’t refuse. Not only was it a substantial raise in pay, but a promotion he might never have gotten in the rigid hierarchy of the Houston Police Department, with all their civil service guidelines. Small-town departments operated by their own rules, and Jake had come with enough verifiable credentials to satisfy the harshest critics.

  Jake never thought he’d have something like hostages to sink his teeth into. Not that he was glad it had happened. Still, since it had, he was glad he was the one with enough experience to take command.

  This was going to look damn good on his résumé.

  Jake paused at door to the anteroom outside Tabitha’s office. The secretary’s area was abuzz with activity, crawling with uniformed officers and technical experts setting up the communications command post.

  Not that they had much in the way of communications equipment. Hell, the wiretapping machines were so old, they would have to do a manual trace on all calls.

  As frustrating as the sorry state of the MCPD’s electronic surveillance equipment was, it wasn’t enough to bring Jake down from his high.

  That dubious honor went to Miss Tabitha Monroe when he walked into her office to find it empty. He searched it in disbelief, throwing open the doors to the closet and her private bathroom.

  “Where the hell is she? Does she think we’re playing a game?”

  A middle-aged officer who’d been setting up the shortwave radio peeked around the doorjamb. “Did you say something, sir?”

  “Where did she go?”

  “Who? The blonde? She said she had to go down to the nursery.”

  “I see. She had to go.” He stormed through the door.

  “That’s what she said,” the officer called after him.

  The elevators were directly across from Tabitha�
��s office. Jake marched over and punched the call button. Neither opened immediately, so he paced back and forth between the two doors.

  If Miss Monroe thought she could skip out on him any time she wanted to do God knows what, she didn’t know who she was dealing with. He had a harder head and a stronger will than anyone he’d ever met.

  Impatient with the slow ascent of the elevator, Jake strode to the stairwell at the end of the hall and took the stairs two at a time.

  Time was important though not critical. But the frustration he’d felt when dealing with her earlier had returned and a little physical activity might help.

  Jake’s lungs hadn’t even begun to strain when he shoved open the door to the second floor. The new maternity wing—dedicated only a couple of months ago—was a two-story structure tacked on at a perpendicular angle to the hospital’s east wing. Delivery and waiting rooms were on the first floor, with the nursery and mothers’ rooms on the second.

  He spotted Tabitha as soon as he rounded the corner from the east wing into the addition.

  The lit hallway testified that they’d fixed the electrical outage caused by Hines to distract the staff long enough to grab hostages. Now they were moving patients and equipment back into the new wing.

  Tabitha was helping a nurse push a crib down the hall. He watched her until they turned the crib sideways and disappeared through the nursery door.

  Jake’s eyes narrowed, and another part of his good mood slipped away.

  She had disobeyed his direct order to stay in her office because of this? What if Hines had called?

  The hospital staff moved out of his way as he marched down the hall.

  He didn’t blame them.

  When he reached the nursery, he peered through the windowed wall.

  Tabitha patted the arm of a nurse who wore a worried expression, obviously trying to soothe fears about the hostage taking. The middle-aged nurse seemed to hang on Tabitha’s every word, gathering courage from whatever it was she was saying.

  The evidence that Tabitha hadn’t left her office frivolously—that she was doing something important, something probably only she could do—should have eased Jake’s ire. With anyone else, it would have.