Renegade (19 page)

 

W
ITHIN THE NEXT DAY
, it was all over city hall, and the collective police and fire departments, that the chief was going to stand by his officers, no matter what. Over night, Cash went from an outsider trying to fit in, to family.

He was surprised by all the attention, because he was just doing what he considered to be his job. Nobody else was that cavalier about it. When people met on the street, the primary topic of conversation was Cash's fierce defense of his colleagues.

Sandie told Tippy that whether Cash realized it or not, he'd just become a hero in the eyes of the town. Tippy smiled, feeling already part of a big family.

C
ASH'S HOUSE
was fascinating to Tippy, who'd never really lived in one before. Her mother had always had a beat-up old trailer. This house had a long front porch, a small back porch, huge rooms and an enormous bath room and kitchen. It really did feel enchanted.

It also had something else that appealed to her. Tippy was spending a long time in the flower-strewn backyard with its flowering bushes and tall pecan trees. Cash had a hammock strung on a metal stand, and Tippy loved to kick back in it and sway in the cool spring breeze. Her rib cage was still sore, and it was difficult to get into the hammock, but once she was there, she could rest back on the long cushion and it felt wonderful. She was breathing more easily, thanks to the volume of fluids Mrs. Jewell was pumping into her. The bruises had faded to yellow. The confusion and headaches weren't completely gone, but they were better. Her face still looked like a road map, but
it stung less every day and it did look as though it was going to heal perfectly.

Mrs. Jewell had kept a disconcertingly close watch over her lately, and Cash was giving her worried glances when he was at home. Tippy sensed that something was wrong, but she couldn't get anyone to tell her what it was.

Tippy stretched and yawned widely, closing her eyes. The sun felt good on her face. She was wearing a green patterned sundress that left her arms and shoulders bare except for the thin straps that held it up. It reached to her ankles. Below them, her feet were bare. Her red-gold hair was loose, falling in waves around her face. She couldn't know it, but she made a pretty picture against the green lawn and mesquite trees that laced the backyard.

She didn't think about trouble in broad daylight. Mrs. Jewell was gone shopping and Cash was at work. It never occurred to Tippy that she might be threatened so close to home. But her neck began to tingle suddenly and she tensed, opening her eyes wide just in time to focus on Cash leaning over the hammock with a scowl.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, jumping. The sudden motion almost threw her out onto the ground. “Heavens, you scared me!” she gasped.

“Good,” he said shortly. “One of your kidnappers is still running around loose, and you're the only person who can testify to the federal charges. No Tippy, no case. I can't be here all the time, and neither can Sandie. This is careless and dangerous, lying out here all alone in your condition. You aren't even armed!”

She swallowed hard as she stared up at him. “I'm bringing a bat out with me next time, that's for sure,” she promised. Her heart was racing. She could barely speak.

Cash relented, just a little. His dark eyes swept over her face
quietly. “This house must be enchanted. You do look like a fairy, lying there,” he said in a soft, fascinated tone.

“A battered fairy,” she remarked, trying to laugh.

“Battered, nothing. Move over.”

She did, startled, when he climbed into the hammock with her, positioning his holster so that it didn't catch between the loops. He lay back, yawning, with his hands behind his head.

“That's nice,” he mused, closing his own eyes. “I put this thing up a month ago and I haven't had five minutes to spend in it yet. At least things have calmed down at city hall, for the moment.”

“Is the senator still threatening to fire all of you?” she wanted to know.

“Of course. So is the acting mayor.” He smiled drowsily. “But Senator Merrill's attorney isn't the sort to support illegal behavior. He's honorable, and he believes in the rule of law. Since he spoke to the mayor, there hasn't been a lot of conversation between us.”

“There's still the hearing to face,” she reminded him.

“Sure, but we're going to have some unexpected legal assistance, which nobody knows about except me.” He glanced down at her, smiling mysteriously. “There's another aspect that I'm working on, as well, involving local drug trafficking.”

She pursed her lips. “And someone locally is involved…?”

“Stop fishing,” he said drowsily. “I never talk about surprises until they're ready.”

“Suit yourself, then. But you won't let them fire you or the officers, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay.” She took his word for gospel, lying back with a long sigh. “I've never done this in my life,” she murmured.
“I never had a hammock, for one thing. For another, I never felt secure enough to relax at home.”

His hand smoothed her long hair. “Did you have friends?”

“Not many,” she replied. “One girlfriend, but she was afraid of Sam and she knew how mean my mother was when she drank. Mostly, I went to her house, until my mother decided that I was having too much fun.” She closed her eyes, unaware of Cash's intent interest. “You know, she hated me from the day I was born. She was always telling me that I was a mistake, that she'd had unprotected sex by accident.”

“That's a lovely thing to tell a child,” he remarked coldly.

“I learned to do housework and cook at the age of eight, while she drank. I don't think I ever saw her sober. Then after Sam came into her life, she went on to hard drugs. I hated him,” she recalled huskily. “At least I finally got the chance to fight back.”

He rolled over. “Stanton told the authorities that you attacked him.”

“He's right, I did,” she replied curtly. “I'd had just enough martial arts training to land a few hard blows in his vulnerable spots before he came after me. It felt good. I had a balisong, too, but I never got to use it.”

He touched her poor bruised face tenderly. “I added a bullet to the bruises you gave him,” he said quietly. “When I finally got to you, I wished I'd hit truer.”

She touched his hard mouth with her fingertips. “I feel safe with you.”

His eyebrows arched.

“Not that way,” she muttered. “I mean, I don't feel afraid of other people when you're around.”

“Nice of you to make things clear,” he mused.

She shifted, wincing a little at the pressure on her ribs.
“There's a lot of talk about the senatorial race,” she said. “Mrs. Jewell thinks that the Ballenger man is going to win it.”

“So do most other people. Senator Merrill's drinking notwithstanding, a lot of people think he's past doing the job. It isn't his age, it's his attitude,” he added. “He's not in touch with his constituents, and he's depending on old families and old money to keep him in office. But the old families have lost much of their wealth, and their power. There's a new social structure, of which the Ballengers are part. Their name carries weight.”

“You think Merrill will lose?”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Furthermore, the acting mayor is up against some stiff competition in the special city election in May. I don't think he's got a chance of going back in. Eddie Cane's already running ahead in the polls. Everybody likes him. He was mayor once before. He's a good man.”

“You'll be pleased if he defeats Mr. Brady, I don't doubt,” she remarked.

“I will. Brady and at least one of the councilmen have their fingers in a particularly nasty little pie—you're not to mention that outside the house, either,” he added firmly.

“I never tell what I know,” she promised. “Is it drugs?”

“Yes. He's been trying to use the job to protect certain associates in the area. But it isn't working in Jacobsville.”

“I heard about that from Mrs. Jewell,” she confessed, smiling. “She says you've organized an interagency-team drug squad to root out distributors.”

“I have. A lot of dealers are in jail.”

“No wonder you're unpopular at city hall, then,” she replied.

“I'm popular enough at the sheriff's department,” he said on a chuckle, “even if Hayes Carson and I don't get along from time to time. We're both sticklers for enforcement of drug
laws. Hayes had a brother who died of a drug overdose. He's even more hard-nosed than I am.”

She sighed and looked up into the leafy boughs of the tree and closed her eyes to the soft breeze that whispered through her hair. “I can't remember when I've enjoyed a day this much,” she said unexpectedly. “I've never had much of a home life. Imagine, lying in a ham mock under a shade tree, with nothing more important to do than breathe.”

He chuckled. “My home life wasn't much to talk about, either, I suppose,” he murmured. “Not after my mother died, certainly.”

“Neither of us has had any good experience of family life,” she said. “I've tried hard to do that for Rory, to make sure he was as happy as I could make him when he was home with me at vacation or on holidays.”

“He loves you,” he said simply.

“I love him.” She stretched again. “He thinks you're awesome. Now he's talking about a career in law enforcement.”

“Is he?” he asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured contentedly. “He'll be out of school the week after the state elections.”

“He'll enjoy it here,” he said. “We have an active recreation department for young people.”

“He'll be looking for someone to take him fishing,” she said drowsily. “That's his favorite sport.”

“Funny. I like fishing myself.”

“He goes with one of the boys at his military school, on weekends. I like this hammock! I think I could get used to it very quickly as a lifelong hobby.” She rolled over, just a little, so that she could slide one bare foot against his boot and curl into his chest. He flinched, but just as quickly, he relaxed. His head turned to look down at her.

“Don't get too comfortable,” he said with a chuckle. “I can
only stay for a few minutes. My desk is piled high with things that didn't get done while I was in New York looking after you.”

Her small hand smoothed over the clean, neat fabric of his uniform shirt and she closed her eyes, snuggling closer. “You smell nice.”

One of his arms, shifted, so that his hand smoothed her long hair. “So do you, angel,” he said softly.

She loved the feel of his fingers in her long hair. It was heaven, to lie against him like this in the shade of the tree and feel his heart beat, feel his breath sigh out above her head, feel the power and strength in his body against her. She'd never felt more secure.

“I've been looking at rings,” she murmured drowsily.

“Have you now?” he mused.

She yawned. “But I didn't find anything I thought you'd like,” she added mischievously.

“Persistent little cuss, aren't you?” he asked.

“I have a one-track mind, Cash. Sandie says you're kin to the Harts. Are you?”

“Second cousins,” he replied.

“They're related to the vice president. And distantly to your governor, she said.”

“Right.”

“You never talk about your people.”

“Not much to say,” he told her. “My father is in real estate, mostly mining properties. He's worth millions. The second eldest of my brothers runs our cattle ranch in West Texas. The eldest is with the FBI. The youngest is an enforcement officer with the state game and fish people.” He turned his head. “Why all the questions?”

She smiled against his shirt. “If I distract you, you might stay longer. I'm very comfortable.”

“I wish I was,” he murmured dryly.

Her head rolled back so that she could see his face. He was smiling, but there was a faint glitter in his dark eyes.

“You're very pretty,” he said. “You smell good, and you're soft as a bundle of feathers. I want very much to roll over and kiss you until I make your mouth swell under mine.”

Her gasp was audible. She looked at him with pure aching desire.

“Oh, that's dangerous,” he whispered, staring at her mouth. “We're on public display here. What if I follow my instincts?”

“What if you do?” she prompted, staring at his mouth, too.

“Reporters will appear out of thin air. Any two of my patrol officers will pull up in the yard on official business. Passing motorists will roll down their windows and point video cameras our way.”

“You're kidding,” she accused.

“I'm not. When Micah Steele was courting his Cal lie, I hear they had a nice kissing session in her drive way about midnight. An elderly neighbor came out to prune her roses, two couples took a midnight stroll past the house, and another neighbor was peering at them out a window. Micah wasn't even a police chief.”

“Oh, I get it,” she mused. “You're important in the community, so everyone wants to know what you're doing.”

He shook his head. “You're a famous model and film star. You're the star attraction, not me,” he added, and actually seemed pleased about it.

“Some star,” she scoffed, lightly touching her face. “I expect I look like Frankenstein's monster.”

He caught her hand in his and brought the knuckles up to his warm, hard mouth. “Wounds of honor,” he whispered.
“You couldn't look unpleasant if you took two ‘ugly' pills every morning.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

His eyes searched hers hungrily. Her body was so close that he could smell the soap she'd used on it. Her hair feathered out around her face like a red plume. She was obviously hungry for him, and he ached in inconvenient places.

She saw his own desire in his dark eyes, and she stretched lazily, lovingly, her eyes like warm green pools.

“Don't,” he cautioned huskily.

Her hips moved involuntarily. “I can't help it,” she said, feeling her body swell. “I want you.”

He actually shivered.

It was a weakness that she longed to exploit. She moved closer to him, awkwardly, because the hammock was difficult to move in. Her fingers reached up to his lean cheek and traced it. “You could kiss me, if you wanted to,” she told him.

“We'd be a tourist attraction in two minutes.”