“That’s when he threatened to expose me. I had Margery running whores for me, and I was selling them to my contact in San Fran.”
“But the heroin won,” Phil said, understanding so much now. “If my father was innocent, why did he kill himself?”
Dettmer grinned, the ceiling light bouncing eerily off his yellow canines. “I told him if he ate his shotgun, I’d make sure you and Vivian were taken care of.”
“You forced him to commit suicide?” Phil asked, disbelieving the horror her father had endured.
“No one could force Saint Macdonald to do anything he didn’t want to do. He refused. Said he’d never betray you or Vivian or the lousy department.”
Phil’s brows knit together in confusion. “But—”
“I did it for him.” Dettmer’s cold confession stunned her. Hate spiraled out of control from her gut. Grief hit Phil square in the chest. For a brief second, she saw black. She gulped for air. Her body warmed, cold perspiration coated her body, and for a minute she thought she might faint. Her father, a victim of the most heinous of crimes. Murder by cop.
“You son of a bitch. You shot him in cold blood!” Phil screamed, remembering how her mother pleaded with the chief and the city for money and continued benefits. Her efforts fell on deaf ears, the Zorn name blacklisted.
“He never had the hero’s funeral he deserved and we never saw a penny from the association or the city.”
Dettmer shrugged. “Shit happens.”
Phil gasped. “You’re evil, Captain. I hope you burn in hell.”
He rewarded her statement with a slow acknowledging nod.
“We’ve got you, Dettmer,” Ty said. “We knew you set Mac up, and we waited a long time to get you. Our patience paid off. We’ve got you on tape watching Phil, we have you on tape in the club, we have you on tape paying Candi. We have you.”
Phil’s anger erupted, this time at her lieu. A dawning settled over her. “You knew all along it was him and didn’t inform me?”
Ty nodded. “I couldn’t tell you. We needed him to lead us to his contact in the city. We needed him to hang himself. I was afraid your emotions would impede your work.”
“Why did you force Margery to testify against my father?”
“Because I believed at the time he assaulted her. It wasn’t until after his murder that I knew I’d made a mistake.”
Phil dared not look at Ty as he spoke.
“I’m sorry, Phil. I’m sorry I didn’t get to him in time.”
The regret in his voice was deep and genuine. Emotions so deep, so painful, so utterly heartbreaking engulfed her. Phil pulled back the hammer of the hand gun and aimed at Dettmer’s head.
“Don’t do it, Phil,” Ty said, moving closer to her. “He deserves prison.”
She battled every moral she believed in—but an eye for an eye burned hotter than her ingrained moral fiber. Her finger pulled steadily on the trigger.
Dettmer’s eyes glittered, malice emanating from his every pore. “Go ahead, Phil, do it. Make it easy for me.” He laughed. “Make it easy for me, like your father made it easy for me.”
“Shut up,” she whispered.
“He cried like a woman, begging me to spare his life.”
“Liar.”
“Pull the trigger, Phil.”
Ty stood six feet to her right. She felt his strength. She wanted it all to be over. “Phil, let’s bring him in the right way.”
Tears filled her eyes, their hot sting blurring her vision.
“Why should we?”
“Because,” Ty said, “it’s the right thing to do.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Dettmer made his move. He lunged straight at her and she pulled the trigger. The sickening sound of a bullet penetrating flesh, Dettmer’s groan, and his gun hitting the floor, then skittering across it, all played out in slow motion before her eyes.
His expression incredulous, he pulled his hands away from his chest and stared in shock at the sticky blood covering them. Blood seeped onto his white shirt, spreading quickly. Slowly he backed up, stopping when his back hit the wall next to her desk. He slid down the wall, leaving a bloody smear in his wake.
Phil watched the spark of life flicker out of his eyes. She shuddered and with no regret hoped he’d be tortured in hell. Her hand dropped to her side, loosening its grip on the gun. She turned to Ty and took a step toward him.
Ty yelled something, her foggy state not deciphering his words. An instant later, the gun was ripped from her grasp.
In her foggy dream state, she turned to find Candi aiming the gun at her.
Phil shook her head. Slowly, the fog cleared. “Why did you shoot Dettmer?”
Candi’s eyes darted to Ty, then back to Phil. “He’s Lola’s father. He told me if I screwed up, he’d take her.” She sneered and jabbed the gun at Ty. “Give me your keys,” she said.
“Don’t do this, Candi,” Phil pleaded.
Candi turned hate-filled eyes on her. “You’ve ruined everything. He was supposed to love me, not you!”
Ty dangled the keys to his truck in front of Candi. She grabbed them, keeping the barrel of the gun pointed at Phil. The second she turned, Phil rushed her, shoving her against the wall. Air rushed with a
whoof
from Candi’s chest. The gun went off and time stood still.
Phil expected to feel pain, but she felt nothing. Candi’s body went limp, then mimicked Dettmer’s slow slide to the floor.
Phil stood in stunned silence. Candi’s blue eyes dulled as her life ended. A bitter wave of sadness swept over Phil. Little Lola would never grow up knowing the love of her parents.
Ty grabbed Phil and pulled her out to the front porch, away from the carnage, and hugged her close. He stroked her hair and whispered against her forehead, “I’m sorry about your father, Phil, but I didn’t kill him.” She nodded against his chest, grateful beyond words that Ty had no hand in her father’s death. She drew in a deep breath.
“He can finally have an honorable burial,” Ty offered.
Phil’s heart swelled. It’s what her father had wanted, it was what he deserved. Maybe then they could all move forward.
Phil pulled back from Ty just enough to see his face but still stay wrapped in his comforting embrace. “Why did you come back here?”
His jaw twitched and his face went rigid. She drew back. Her heart steeled for another blow. She didn’t know if she could take more. She took a deep breath and when she exhaled, her breath wavered. “Tell me.”
He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Because, I want you.”
Relief flooded her system. “Oh, really? What about me do you want?”
“Everything.”
“Not just sex?”
“Not just sex.”
Joy lit up her world, despite the bodies in her house and having learned of her father’s betrayal by one of their own. Accepting that her father was not perfect, she smiled, hopeful there might be a future with Ty.
“Promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God,” she said.
“I promise.”
She smiled brighter and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You have to kiss me whenever I ask.”
His lips lowered to her and he kissed her, long, deeply, and wet.
“You don’t have to ask,” he whispered against her mouth before kissing her the way she wanted to be kissed for the rest of her life.
EPILOGUE
3 months later
“Y
ou look beat, baby,” Ty said.
Philamina nodded. She reached over and squeezed Ty’s hand resting on the steering wheel. She closed her eyes and let out a long, tired breath. Her eyes were sore, scratchy from her tears. She knew when she opened them she would wince. Her heart, while so full in one area, was depleted in another.
She missed her father.
“C’mon,” Ty urged, turning off the ignition. “We’re home.”
Phil nodded, not wanting to open her raw eyes and feel the sharp sting of sunshine on them.
Instead she let Ty come around and open the truck door for her. He literally dragged her out, her body useless.
Ty gathered her up into his arms and finally she opened her eyes. His eyes met her gaze, and fresh tears welled. Ty’s deep green eyes expressed his heart. He kissed the tip of her nose and hugged her close. She melted into him.
He turned with her in his arms and kicked the car door shut with his right foot.
As he walked from the driveway of his house to the front door, he said, “It was good to see Mac finally laid to rest with the honor he deserved.”
Phil nodded and hiccupped against his chest.
Keys in hand, Ty slid one into the lock and pushed the front door open, then kicked it closed.
Instead of taking Phil down the hall to their bedroom, he walked into the sunroom off the kitchen, her favorite room.
If any room could spark life into her it was this one. After the work she’d put into transforming the space from a storage area into a living, breathing entity, he wasn’t sure which one of them had been more amazed by her talent. Ficus, rhododendron, ivy, and orchids colored the walls and floor, bringing the room alive, the scents almost as intoxicating to him as her own. In the corner, away from the sunlight, in a large bowl, Bubba happily swam around. The bowl next to him teamed with colorful fish.
He set her down on the cushioned rattan chair nearest Bubba.
“Your fish is floating,” Ty said.
Phil gasped and came to life. Her eyes popped open and she jackknifed out of the chair. When her eyes landed on Bubba swimming at the surface, blowing bubbles for food, she turned around and punched Ty in the chest.
His loud whoosh of breath made her smile.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
Ty took his punishment, and would have done it again to get her to react. This depressed state she’d assumed the last few weeks more than concerned him. The PD shrink said it was delayed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Ty thought that was bullshit. The woman was still grieving for her dead father. His heart tightened with compassion. He’d move heaven and earth to ease her pain.
He sat facing her, their knees touching. He smoothed the fabric of her skirt across her knees and looked her directly in the eyes.
“Phil, you need to stop this.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Today, believe it or not, was a good day.”
“How can you say that? I buried my father for a second time.” Slow tears tracked down her cheeks.
“Did you ever think you would see Mac get the honor guard he received today? Hell, cops from five states showed up to pay their respects. Over five hundred strong. He got his due. A Medal of Valor, a full police funeral, and his rank and pension reinstated.”
“He never should have died in the first place.”
“You’re right, but we can’t change the past, only our future choices.” He moved closer. “Look, even your mom has started to come out of her twilight zone. She smiled at me!”
Phil attempted a smile through her tears, but it looked more like a grimace.
“She needs you, Phil, and while you may not think so, you need her too.” He looked intently at her, and squeezed her knees. “I need you.”
She nodded and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “I know.”
”You did good, baby. Your first time out. We got the bad guys, found the kidnapped girls, and learned the truth about your dad. Now it’s time to move on—or all of the what-ifs will eat you up.”
“Martens is in serious therapy.”
“She should be. All three of them have been through hell.”
“I’m going back into IA.”
Ty wasn’t surprised. “You’re a damn good investigator.”
Her tears slowed, she hiccupped and sniffed. “You taught me there are two sides to every cop’s story. I think I’m better qualified now to see that and not rush to judge. I don’t want what happened to my father to happen to another cop.” She looked at him and more tears welled in her eyes. “If I was left to my own devices three years ago, I would have hung you out to dry.” She slid her hands over his on her knees. “I’m sorry.”
Ty smiled, and his heart filled. It was a strange and wonderful thing what this woman did to him. He still wasn’t sure how to deal with her. He learned something new every day. But so long as she was willing to put up with him, he’d decided he wasn’t going to let her go.
Ty traced his knuckles across her cheek. “I’ve learned from you too, Phil. I’ve learned to look deeper and not take a veteran officer’s word over my gut.”
“So, Captain Jamerson, does that mean you won’t be breaking my balls every time one of your men comes through my office?”
Ty grinned. “I’ll make reasons to break your balls, Inspector Zorn.”
He gathered her up into his arms and hugged her close. “There are a few other things I’ve learned from you.”
He felt her smile against his shoulder. “Oh yeah, what?”
“I’d rather show you.”
Several minutes later Phil sat in Ty’s big recliner in the living room. The afternoon sun began its daily journey to the hills in the west, casting long pink shadows through the curtains.
“What are you doing?” she called craning her neck toward the hallway.
“Be patient,” Ty called back.
Phil smiled and settled back into the inviting leather of the chair. She closed her eyes and ignored the sting from her gravelly eyes. Taking several deep cleansing breaths, Phil tried to clear her mind of sad thoughts.
She started when the touch of smooth fabric covered her eyes.
“Easy, baby,” Ty whispered against her ear. His warm breath instantly stirred her. She smiled when the soft scent of a vanilla spice candle flirted with her nose.
The familiar sound of a low saxophone infiltrated the room.
Her blood quickened and she smiled lazily. “What are you up to, Captain?”
“I want to show you what else I learned from you.”
“Can I take off the blindfold?”
“Yes.”
Phil yanked it off and almost drowned in giggles. Ty stood three feet away from her, his body swaying as he tried to undo his shirt buttons in a slow sexy movement. He was all thumbs.
“Are you going to strip for me?”
His eyes flashed and she could swear he blushed. He yanked at the third button, his frustration mounting. “If I could get this damn shirt unbuttoned!”