Cowboy Cop Read online

  “Maybe because you’re acting so guilty about it.”

  The man on stage tapped the microphone several times. “Testing one, two, three…”

  “That’s silly. I don’t feel the least bit guilty.”

  “So then tell me,” he insisted.

  “Tell you what?”

  A muscle flickered in his jaw. “What you’re donating to lure Vanessa into discussing the case.”

  “You.”

  He gaped at her. “What?”

  Lucy reached up to straighten the white carnation on his lapel. “Didn’t you understand my answer?”

  “Didn’t you understand my question?”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention…”

  “You’re my donation, Nick. Now I don’t have a lot of time to explain, so just go with the flow. I already signed you up. You can’t back out now.”

  He frowned at her. “Signed me up? For what?”

  “…it’s now time for that exciting event you’ve all been waiting for…”

  She gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t look so apprehensive. It’s painless, I promise you.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” he announced. “What exactly did you get me into?”

  “…if the usherettes will please escort all the gentlemen wearing white carnations to center stage.”

  Lucy smiled up at him. “The bachelor auction.”

  A perky usherette hauled Nick off before he could say another word—which was fortunate for Lucy, judging by the look on his face. That wait-until-I-get-my-hands-on-you look.

  And she knew without a doubt that the only place his hands wanted to be were wrapped around her neck.

  His look only confirmed her earlier decision not to tell him about the bachelor auction in advance. Hattie had warned her that Nick didn’t like to call attention to himself. Tended to be touchy about public exhibitions. Hated surprises.

  But Hattie hadn’t said anything about an aversion to charitable donations. As Lucy watched him reluctantly ascend the stage, she knew she’d made the right decision. He probably just avoided events like this out of a sense of self-preservation.

  Because what woman wouldn’t want a man like him?

  Not her, she told herself firmly. She needed to concentrate on the investigation, not her love life. Besides, he was an ex-con, which made him definitely off-limits. She hadn’t clawed her way up from Bale Street to a respectable life and career to throw it all away for a pretty face.

  She wanted to fall in love—someday. With a man who met all her requirements. He needed a good career, a steady income, a spotless background. No Bale Street bums for her. Unfortunately, Nick didn’t fit into any of her required categories. He was unemployed, broke, and had a criminal record as well as a reputation as a dirty cop. She’d seen enough women on Bale Street dragged down by the men in their lives.

  Not that she ever had to worry about choosing between him and her dreams of success. Nick had made it crystal clear in the library office last Monday that she couldn’t interest him if she danced buck naked on top of his bed. Those weren’t his exact words, but she didn’t need to be hit over the head with a book of rejection lines to get the hint.

  However, from a perfectly objective viewpoint, she couldn’t help but notice how easily he surpassed the other bachelors gathered on the stage. He wasn’t movie-star handsome. His nose was just a little crooked in the middle, as if a break never quite healed properly. That, combined with the small scar on his square chin and his flinty gray eyes, gave him a subtle edge of roughness that appealed rather than frightened.

  His impressive height made him stand literally head and broad shoulders above the rest. She swallowed, remembering the sight of those bare, brawny shoulders and that wide expanse of muscled chest that gradually narrowed to a lean waist and taut, rippling stomach. The feel of those hard muscles flexing beneath her fingertips…

  Lucy swallowed again, her throat uncomfortably parched. Then she glanced over to the other side of the stage, hoping she wasn’t the only woman to notice how easily Nick Holden stood out in this crowd of pampered blue bloods.

  She wasn’t disappointed.

  Vanessa Beaumont sat at a cordoned table adjacent to the stage, sharing a shrimp cocktail with her adoring father while her eyes feasted on Nick.

  She’d taken the bait.

  Lucy let out her pent-up breath, relieved that her assessment of Melvin’s old girlfriend had proven right on target. Vanessa had grown up rich and pampered, cutting her capped teeth on premed preppies and boys from Snob Hill. Now she preferred men with more raw edges. Tough and gritty, with a hint of danger about them. Men like Nick.

  She experienced a momentary twinge of uneasiness watching Vanessa drool into her napkin. Nick certainly wouldn’t be duped by Vanessa’s blatant sexuality and millions of dollars in the bank. He had more sense and integrity than that.

  Didn’t he?

  “Good evening,” the emcee bellowed into the microphone. “I’m Ralph Rooney, president of the Friends of Pine City Association, and I’ll be your emcee. Welcome to our third annual fundraiser and bachelor auction.”

  The crowd erupted into applause.

  “I’d like to thank Harold and Letitia Beaumont for hosting the event this year. According to the association’s police liaison, Lieutenant Ed Delaney, last year’s donation has made it possible for the police department to continue the Protégé Project. This is a project that gives at-risk juveniles and disadvantaged residents temporary employment. It provides them with a paycheck, plenty of job experience, and networking opportunities for those individuals with the drive and the gumption to succeed.”

  Ralph waited for the applause to fade before he continued. “We have several participants in the Protégé Project working here tonight. They’re employed as valets, waitstaff, coat-check clerks, and bartenders. So tonight you can actually see your donations at work.”

  Lucy politely applauded with the rest of the crowd until she saw Letitia Beaumont squinting in her direction. She surreptitiously moved behind a potted palm.

  “Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Ralph announced. “Ladies, have we got a fine selection of bachelors here for you to choose from this evening.”

  Piercing wolf whistles and shouts from the female audience members filled the air.

  “Over here, big boy!”

  “Pump it up, fellas!”

  “Let’s see some skin!”

  The Friends of Pine City Annual Fundraiser and Bachelor Auction generated a lot of money and drew single women from all over north Texas, most of them successful, aggressive career women who weren’t afraid to go after what they wanted—or whom.

  Several of the bachelors on stage grew fidgety. Some pranced and preened to the appreciative cheers of the crowd of ravenous women. Others waved to friends and joked around with each other. Nick just stood there and glared at Lucy.

  She tugged up the corners of her mouth with her fingers, motioning for him to smile.

  “The rules are simple,” Ralph continued. “The highest bidder gets her man for a date on the town. For simplicity and convenience, the bachelors will be notified of the arrangements through the Friends of Pine City office secretary.”

  A muted drum roll sounded from the orchestra pit. “So without further ado,” Ralph bellowed, “it’s time for our bachelor auction. And to kick off tonight’s affair we’ve received a special request from the audience”—he winked in Vanessa’s direction—“to begin with this bachelor right here.” Ralph clapped his hand on Nick’s shoulder.

  The cheers and applause grew even more raucous.

  Ralph conferred for a moment with Lucy’s reluctant donation and then checked the information card she’d sent in yesterday. “We’ve got a fine specimen here, ladies. Mr. Nick Holden. A real man’s man. Nick enjoys moonlit walks, candlelight dinners, and cuddling.”

  Nick visibly cringed.

  “Do I hear a bid of two hundred dol
lars?”

  Several women screamed their bid at once. So many of them wanted Nick, it was hard for Lucy to keep track as the bidding quickly escalated. The competition was fierce for the first bachelor of the night.

  “Five hundred!”

  “Seven hundred and fifty!”

  “One thousand dollars!”

  Lucy couldn’t even see Vanessa anymore as a throng of potential buyers, young and old, milled around the edge of the stage. She rose on her tiptoes, scanning the crowd as the emcee whetted their appetites even more.

  “Turn around, Nick, and let the ladies see the whole package,” Ralph Rooney insisted.

  A soprano chorus of appreciative oohs and aahs mingled with wolf whistles from the crowd of women.

  The emcee egged them on. “Any woman who wins a date with this bachelor will certainly have her hands full. Take a good look, ladies, before you pass up this hunk of USDA prime beefcake.”

  “Fifteen hundred dollars,” screeched a frantic matron next to Lucy.

  “Fifteen hundred and seventy-five,” a hoarse woman beside her called out.

  Lucy stumbled over the potted plant and almost got trampled in the process.

  “Sixteen hundred and fifty dollars!”

  “Seventeen hundred.”

  Gradually the frenzied pace of the bidding slowed until only a few determined voices remained in the fray.

  “Going once,” the emcee called at last.

  Lucy caught her breath and held it.

  “Going twice.”

  Nick mouthed a few words at her from the stage that at first she interpreted as “I’m going to kill you.” But he couldn’t be that upset about an innocent bachelor auction. He probably meant he was going to bill her. And, of course, she intended to pay him for a good night’s work.

  “Sold! For two thousand dollars,” Ralph Rooney announced, “to Miss Vanessa Beaumont.”

  “The money goes to a good cause,” Lucy stated, driving through the lighted streets of Pine City. She wondered how much longer Nick could last without saying a word. He’d left the auditorium immediately, not even stopping at the buffet table on the way out.

  Maybe he was a little bit upset after all.

  “It’s not like I sold you into bondage. It’s only one date.”

  Nick shifted in the passenger seat, piercing her with his merciless gaze.

  “Look on the bright side. Most men would give a year’s salary to go out with Vanessa,” she continued. “Although personally, I don’t see the attraction. In my opinion, she’s a total flake. I can’t figure out what guys find so appealing about her. I mean, unless you’re into big breasts, long legs, and flawless skin, what is there to like? She’s shallow, greedy, and possessive.”

  He just kept staring at her.

  “Don’t you think this silent treatment is just a bit childish?” she exclaimed, unnerved by his unblinking perusal. “If you’re upset about what happened tonight, just say so.”

  “I’m upset about what happened tonight.”

  Lucy smiled. “That’s better. It’s not healthy to keep your feelings all bottled up inside, Nick. Now that we’ve got that out into the open, we can concentrate on our next step. I think we need to expand our list of suspects. Vanessa is my choice as pyromaniac of the year, but I overheard talk tonight that Ralph Rooney made an offer to buy the Hanover Building. Maybe we should keep an eye on him, too.”

  He met her suggestion with more tight-lipped silence. His attitude bewildered her. Tonight had been a major success. Vanessa had fallen right into their trap. But Nick certainly didn’t act very happy about it. Maybe he resented Lucy springing the bachelor auction on him without warning. Or maybe he simply didn’t like taking orders from a librarian. As a former police detective, he was probably used to running the show.

  She looked over at him, anxious to make amends with her new partner. “So, Nick, do you have any ideas?”

  He drew himself up in the seat, one hand gripping the dashboard so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “Just one.” The softly spoken words belied the menace in his tone. “I’m resigning from this job. Effective immediately.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that.”

  He settled back against the seat. “Just watch me.”

  She turned off the street into a restaurant parking lot, certain he couldn’t be serious. Quitting meant giving up, and Lucy simply didn’t believe in giving up. Giving up meant spending your life on Bale Street. Giving up meant watching your brother go to prison. Giving up meant forfeiting your dreams. It simply wasn’t an option.

  She cruised up to the drive-thru fast-food menu box. “You’re not thinking clearly. Where could you find a job more exciting than this one?” she asked as she rolled down her window. “You’re probably just hungry. You’ll feel better after we eat.”

  “Ahoy, mate!” crackled a voice from the speaker. “What’s your pleasure?”

  Lucy leaned her head out the window. “I’ll have an order of fish nuggets, large fries, and a Farley’s Hurricane shake. Chocolate.”

  “Would you like candy sprinkles or mini-marshmallows with that Hurricane, ma’am?”

  “Sprinkles.” She turned to Nick. “What do you want?”

  He stared disconsolately at the bright neon Farley’s Fish Hut menu box, topped by a large, plastic cod. “I just want to wake up from this nightmare.”

  “Don’t you want something to eat?” she asked, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I promised you supper tonight and you haven’t eaten a thing. They’ve got great fish nuggets here. Or you might want to try the cod fingers. Cod’s their specialty.”

  Nick paled. “So I’ve heard. Thanks anyway, but I think I’ll pass.”

  Lucy pulled up to the drive-thru window and gave her money to a pimply-faced teenager with a cod hat on his head.

  “Hey, Nick,” the teenager called, leaning down to peer through the driver’s side window. “Good to see ya, buddy.”

  Lucy turned to her stony companion. “Do you know him?”

  “That’s…Capt’in Robby,” he replied, acknowledging the teenager with a short nod.

  Lucy took the bulging, greasy sack Capt’in Robby handed her and then rolled up the window. The aroma of fish and fries filled the car.

  Maybe the food would work its magic on Nick. There was nothing like a sack full of salty, saturated fats to bring her out of a bad mood.

  “Mmm,” she breathed as she pulled into the nearest parking space. “Doesn’t it smell heavenly? Are you sure you’re not hungry?” She held up a fried fish nugget. “I’m willing to share.”

  He turned his gaze away from her food and stared out the window. “No, thanks. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “That’s too bad,” she said, munching on a French fry. “So where did you meet Capt’in Robby?”

  “Listen, Lucy,” he began, raking a hand through his hair. “About my resignation…I might have been a little hasty.”

  She looked up from her Farley’s Hurricane shake. “Really?”

  He hesitated a moment, his gaze fixed on the colorful dancing cod decorating the take-out sack, then he nodded. “Really. I’m not quite ready to resign yet.”

  “I knew you’d see it my way,” she said, cheerfully munching on a crispy fish nugget. “And you’ll see the wisdom of this date with Vanessa, too. You just need a little time to adjust to the idea.”

  “Time,” he echoed, leaning back against the headrest as he closed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I need…a little time.”

  Twenty minutes after dropping off Nick at the ranch, Lucy was humming under her breath as she unlocked the door to her apartment, proud of her part in tonight’s success. Mission accomplished. With a well-paired investigative team like her and Nick, the real arsonist didn’t stand a chance.

  “I’m home,” she called out, closing the door behind her and hanging her purse on the coat tree.

  A plaintive meow sounded from under the sofa.

  Lucy bent down to coax th
e black cat out of its hiding place. “Hello, my sweet Sherlock. Sorry I took so long, but I brought you a treat.”

  She pulled a lukewarm fish nugget out of the crumpled take-out bag, peeling the crispy layer off the top. Then she crumbled the flaky white meat into a small plastic bowl. “From Farley’s Fish Hut. Your favorite.”

  The cat just looked up at her and meowed again.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” Lucy asked, scooping him up into her arms. “Did we get another one of those annoying phone calls?”

  She looked over at the answering machine and saw it blinking at her.

  Not again.

  With a sigh of resignation, she punched the message retrieval button. The first call sounded uncomfortably familiar: a man breathing heavily while he called her name in an eerie singsong voice. Creepy, but probably harmless.

  It was the second call that made her heart jump into her throat.

  “Hey, Luce. It’s me, Melvin. We’ve got trouble.”

  7

  Melvin “Mad Dog” Moore sat in the visitors’ room of the county lockup the next morning and glared at his sister.

  Usually his baleful expression and brawny build sent both men and women scurrying across the street to avoid crossing his path. But Lucy just smiled at him, knowing full well that his bark was worse than his bite.

  The visitors’ room was constructed of cement blocks painted a sickly pistachio green and had iron bars on the two small windows.

  Round wooden tables were scattered throughout the room atop a cracked linoleum floor that had seen better days. A deputy was stationed by the locked door, periodically reminding everyone that touching was not allowed.

  “You look wonderful,” she said, sitting across the table from him as other inmates and visitors chatted around them. “Maybe a little thinner. Are you eating enough?”

  He shrugged. “The food’s not great, but I’ve had worse.”

  She took in his wavy blond hair, dark-brown eyes, and smooth-shaven cheeks. “Well, I’m glad you got rid of the beard. I’ve always loved that dimple on your chin.”