Lethal Journey (4 page)

Lauren noticed
Eric’s eyes gloss over with pain—the loss still too fresh. She
touched his arm.

“We’ll talk
later. I’ll check on your father before I leave. Try to get some
rest.” He patted her hand, and then headed to the door.

“Eric, do you
believe in fate?”

“I’m beginning
to.”

Eric met up
with Pete in the hallway.

“Hey, the
captain called. He wants to see you in his office first thing in
the morning.”

“Just what I
need.” Eric leaned against the wall and shook his head. “Did he say
what he wanted?”

“Nope.
Bromstrom needs to get on someone’s ass. Fortunately, he picks on
you and not me.”

“Lucky me.”

Pete
snickered.

Eric stared at
his partner. “What’s so funny?”

“I saw the way
you were looking at Lauren. You still got the hots for her.”

“Give me a
break. I’m doing my job.”

“Nice bedside
manner.”

“For God
sakes.” Eric waved his hand. “Don’t you have something to do for
ten minutes? I want to talk to Stephen alone.”

“Yeah, I could
use a cold drink. Whether you want to believe it or not, you’re
still hot for her.” Pete rushed down the hallway and headed for the
elevators.

Eric glanced at
the tired blue walls bordered with worn white trim. Pete was right.
His feelings for Lauren had not disappeared. Back when they dated,
his social drinking got out of hand and her spoiled princess
routine grew old. Not a good mix. He really didn’t think he’d see
her again. He couldn’t afford to allow his feeling to get in the
way this time around—it wasn’t going to happen. Finding his
father’s killer was top priority.

“Excuse me,
detective. You can see Mr. Taylor now,” the nurse said.

“Good.
Thanks.”

The night’s
events reeled through Eric’s mind and frustration dug deep in his
throat. He glanced at his watch. Two fifteen in the morning and his
gut ached from the watered-down coffee he’d picked up in the
cafeteria. He strolled down the west wing and pushed open the door
to Stephen’s room.

The man’s eyes
widened. His eyebrows shot up. “Eric?” He shifted in the bed and
smoothed the blankets around him. “What are you doing here?”

Eric
sensed the dislike the man still had for him.
Some things never change.
Stephen never approved of his
relationship with Lauren. He thought Lauren could do much better
than a cop. He wanted much more for his princess.

“Come on,
Stephen. You’re a smart man. Someone runs you off the road two days
before one of the biggest mob trial in New York’s history. It’s
sure as hell not a coincidence.” Eric took a step closer to the bed
and kept his hands buried in his pockets.

“That van
wanted us off the road. Pure and simple. Like it was hunting us
down.”

Eric studied
Stephen’s face. The man hadn’t aged much other than a couple new
wrinkles around his eyes and a few extra gray hairs. He had the
same strong features as Lauren; high cheekbones, full lips and a
smile that could melt ice.

“Any unusual
phone calls? Letters? I mean you prosecuted the bastard years
ago.”

“Nothing out of
the ordinary but why are you involved?”

Eric clenched
both fists, his muscles twitched in his arms. “One of Valdina’s men
killed my father.”

Shock burst
across Stephen’s face. “Jesus, I didn’t know.” His voice trembled.
“Sorry about your father. A real shame.”

Hard to believe
Stephen Taylor had softened over the years. Not the same tough guy
who had offered Eric a hundred thousand dollars to pay for his
sister’s cancer treatments providing he got the hell out of
Lauren’s life. Of course Eric didn’t take the money. Instead picked
up extra shifts whenever he could.

“Yeah,
thanks.”

“How’s your
sister?”

“Good. The
cancer’s been in remission for almost three years.”

“That really is
good news. I assume you’ve seen my daughter—how is she?”

“Pretty groggy
and worried about you. The accident could’ve been a lot worse.”

“You’re telling
me. Not a ride I want to take again.” The lines on Stephen’s face
finally relaxed. “Thank God, Lauren is okay.”

Eric gestured
at the white cast surrounding Stephen’s foot. “How’s the foot?”

“A minor break
and sore as hell, but keeping Lauren safe and making sure Valdina
gets what he deserves are the only two things I care about.”

“Guess we have
a lot in common.”

Stephen’s mouth
tightened a fraction.

Pete
poked his head inside the door.
Perfect timing
.

Eric nodded to
him. “My partner here will get your statement. Can you think of
anyone else who might want to hurt you or Lauren?”

Stephen pushed
his head back into the pillow, his eyelids looked heavy. “No. Not a
soul.”

“
I know I
don
’
t have to remind you to keep alert. You
already know you
’
re playing with
the big boys.
And these
guys play to win—no matter the cost.”

Later that
morning, armed with her father’s overnight bag, Lauren opened the
front door to her house. Lucy bounced up and down and whimpered
with delight.

She bent and
retrieved the mail from the foyer floor then gave the dog a long
pat on the head. “I bet you missed me. Let’s get you outside.”

Her father
hurried past Lauren, his crutches thumped and creaked against the
hardwood floor. “I’ve got to make a phone call.”

The scowl on
his face said it all. He wasn’t thrilled about staying with her but
agreed they should stick together.

In the kitchen,
she opened the French doors to the patio. Twenty foot dogwoods
swayed in the wind. Lucy sprinted outside, across the yard, and
tried without success to catch a butterfly.

After Lauren
changed out of the green scrubs the hospital had supplied and into
a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, she filled the tea kettle with
water then made a pot of coffee. She eyed her father in the living
room at the antique desk, talking on the phone.

“Troy, I need
you on the next flight home. Sorry, I know it’s a day early.
Someone ran us off the road. Yeah, we’re both okay.” He paused for
a moment. “Drop by after you get settled. No. I’m at Lauren’s
house.” Her father was silent for a moment. “This was no accident.
Yes. I’m sure. Troy—listen carefully. Make a few calls. See if you
can find out anything.” Her father hung up the phone.

She noticed his
eyes—icy and unresponsive, his jaw clamped.

“Are you
okay?”

“I need
coffee.” His mouth tightened more. “You know how I get when I don’t
get enough caffeine.”

“I know.
Downright ugly. The coffee is almost ready.”

In the living
room she opened the drapes. The faint mountaintops of the Catskills
came into view. Chickadees chirped and hung upside down in the
trees along the driveway, just like her life, once quiet, now
turned upside down.

She made a cup
of peach-orange tea for herself then poured a cup of coffee and
glanced through the mail. Like a kid at Christmas she ripped open
three of the dozens of envelopes.

“Take a look at
these.” She handed her father the vacation brochures and set his
coffee on the desk.

He sipped his
coffee and thumbed through each one. “Hmm, Abercrombie & Kent.
Travcoa, Tauck. Heading to New Zealand?”

“Too busy right
now. I’m thinking sometime in the new year. I’m going to need a
holiday after this trial.”

He flipped open
the Abercrombie & Kent brochure. “Did I ever tell you I worked
as a travel agent during my college days? So take my word on this
one.”

He handed the
brochure back to her and gulped down his coffee.

“God, how can
you drink that so quickly?”

“Practice,
babygirl. Lots of practice.”

“Want a
refill?”

“Nope. Don’t
have time.” He set the empty cup on the desk. “Got to get cleaned
up and to the office. I want to dig through a few more of my files
before the trial. See if I have anything else you can use.”

Her eyes bolted
to the grandfather clock. “It’s early, not even eight. I’ll drive
you.”

“It’s okay.
Stay here and rest your hand. I’ll call a cab.”

Ten minutes
later he emerged from the spare bedroom dressed in track pants and
a golf shirt. He looked down at the crutches. “I hate these damn
things.”

“I wish you
didn’t have to use them but doctor’s orders. It’s only for six
weeks. You can do it.”

Her hand ached
wrapped in the elastic bandage. Visions of the accident played over
in her mind. She didn’t want him to leave but knew no one could
change his mind, not even his own daughter. Lauren kept her
thoughts to herself and chewed on her fingernails.

“Quite a
surprise to see Eric.”

“It was.” She
flicked an imaginary speck of dirt from her sweatshirt.

Eric Brennan.
Tall, broad shouldered and handsome with a hot Irish temper. The
thought made her cheeks flush.

“Hope you’re
not thinking about starting things up with him again?”

Lauren frowned.
“Where did that come from?”

“I noticed that
glow on your face when I mentioned his name.”

“Dad, that
glow, as you call it, is my happiness to be home. Twelve hours in
that dingy hospital was more than enough.”

A horn honked
from the driveway.

“I have to go.
We’ll talk later. Make sure you lock the door.”

“I will.” When
she held the door open for him she spotted the unmarked police car
parked at the end of the driveway. At least she felt safe.

She touched his
arm and managed a small smile. “Please be careful.”

* * * *

Amanda Richmond
slipped on a body-clinging halter dress the color of lilacs. The
deep purple shade enhanced her long blonde curls and dark tan.

“Looking hot.”
Troy slapped her on the ass as he walked by. “You won’t believe
this. Stephen just called.”

She noticed a
smirk on his face. “What did he want?”

“Check this
out. He and the ice-queen were run off the road.”

Amanda gasped
and almost dropped one of the diamond earrings Troy had given her
down the bathroom sink drain. “Are they okay?”

Troy rubbed his
chin. “Yeah, yeah. Banged up. I’m sure they’ll survive.”

A glow of
wicked pleasure flickered in his blue eyes and Amanda wondered if
he had something to do with Lauren and Stephen’s accident. Troy and
Lauren never got along, even more so after Troy learned he would be
‘second chair’ in the trial, a decision made by Stephen.

“Do you think
things will change after Stephen retires?”

“Baby, I know
they will. No more ‘second chair’ for me. Lead prosecutor all the
way.”

Amanda smiled
and wondered what he knew that she didn’t. “Maybe I should call
Lauren and make sure she’s okay.”

“Amanda,
believe me. She’s fine. Let’s get to the casino and have some fun.”
He patted cologne on his neck, and then ran his fingers through his
hair. “You ready for the bad news?”

“What? Being
run off the road isn’t the bad news? There’s more?”

He leaned
against the bathroom counter. “Stephen ordered me back to New York.
Sorry babe. Looks like our vacation just got cut short.”

She rolled her
eyes. “He orders you around like a dog.”

“I know. But
not for much longer. It’s only one day early. We’ll stay the night
and grab an early flight.”

“Damn him.” She
raised her hand ready to slam it down on the counter.

Troy caught her
hand in mid-air and pulled her against him. “I love it when you get
mad. That southern temper really makes me hard.”

Amanda felt
Troy’s lips against her neck and her anger turned into desire.

Captain
Bromstrom looked at the wall clock. “Brennan, you’re here before
eight. Did something happen overnight I don’t know about?” He sat
behind his desk shuffling through a tall stack of file folders.

“I thought I’d
be on time. Besides, I heard you wanted to see me.” Eric clenched
an extra-large black coffee with both hands and leaned back in the
chair. He stared at the thin, compact man behind the desk.

“I just wanted
to touch base with you. You’re still doing okay? You know with the
drinking thing?”

He felt like a
little kid being questioned by his father. “Look. You drag my ass
in here every other day and we go through the same thing. No. I am
not drinking. I am not going to drink. That part of my life is
over.”

“Just checking.
I know you’re under a lot of stress working your father’s case.
Hate like hell to see you suspended again. I had to pull in a lot
of favours to get you back. You’re one of the best cops I
know.”

Eric set his
coffee down on the desk next to a photograph of Bromstrom’s new
wife, number three. He studied the woman with short blonde hair and
round blue eyes. He realized everyone had a picture on their desk
except for him. Some had wives or girlfriends. Others had kids or
pets. What did he have? Nothing.

“You have
nothing to worry about. You have my word.”

“Good. I don’t
want to lose another detective.” Bromstrom leaned forward in his
chair. “I want you and Hallman to check this out.” He tossed a
folder across the desk. “See if there is anything in there that
might help you get closer to Duffy’s killer.”

“Thanks.” Eric
scooped the overstuffed folder and gave the contents a quick
scan.

“Remember the
only reason I agreed to keep you on Duffy’s case is because I trust
your judgement. If you get out of hand you’ll be directing traffic
on Broadway. Is that clear?”