Perfect Fit (Serendipity's Finest)

Thirteen



Cara had a massive headache. By the time she’d gotten home last night, she’d fallen into bed exhausted but had trouble sleeping. Normally the adrenaline of a situation at work would lead to a crash and a good night’s sleep, but this wasn’t work. Everything about Daniella felt personal to her.

She had flashbacks of Daniella cringing when Bob yelled, slinking down in her seat as if trying to become invisible, taking the slap as if it were normal. It all reminded Cara of her mother’s body language and behavior, hence the nearly debilitating headache.

She took a couple of Advil and was about to lie back down on the couch, a place she’d been most of the day, when her doorbell rang.

She padded across the room in her bare feet and peeked out. Catching a glimpse of Mike, her heart fluttered faster.

She swung the door open wide. “Hi!” she said, surprised but not unhappy to see him.

He stood in his leather jacket, a serious expression on his handsome face. “Hi.” He stepped inside and immediately turned to face her, stepping into her personal space.

His brows furrowed tight, and she curled her fingers to prevent herself from smoothing out the wrinkles. She needed to know what was going on in that head of his first.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I thought we had a relationship.” He pinned her with his dark, steady gaze, and her pulse rate tripled.

He was angry and she had no idea why. “Umm, we do?”

“Not sure?” he clipped out.

“Of course I am! What I’m not sure about is your mood and what’s causing it.”

“I’m getting there. So we’re in a relationship.”

She nodded, suddenly too warm in her own skin.

“Yet you not only heard from Daniella, you went to meet her, ended up pulling a gun on her boyfriend, and I had to hear about it from my brother and sister?” he asked, his voice rising.

Despite his anger, she wasn’t the least bit put off. She knew no matter how upset he became, he’d never hurt her. She was more intrigued by this sudden wave of emotion he was turning her way.

“You weren’t on duty last night or today, so you heard it from them?” she asked, trying to understand.

“At dinner with my parents, yeah. So why didn’t you tell me when I called this morning?”

“Because you woke me and I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly!”

“I can understand that, but after you woke up? All day when you weren’t feeling well, when you were upset, it never dawned on you to give me a call? Let me comfort you?”

“Wait. You’re hurt that I didn’t tell you I’d finally heard from Daniella?” This seemed so out of character for him, she didn’t know what to say.

He looked at her, stupefied. “Hello? Of course I’m hurt! If I heard from my father and didn’t call you, wouldn’t you be?” he asked, the storm passing from his eyes, replaced by a calming, more wounded look that touched her deeply.

She swallowed hard. “I thought about calling you. On the way there.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Then why didn’t you?”

Oh, this was going to be hard. Honesty always was, but he deserved the truth. “Want to sit?” she asked.

He tipped his head to the side, his cocky stance answering for him.

“Guess not. I wanted to call and that’s why I didn’t.”

“Which makes no sense.”

“Maybe not to you. But when we started this”—she gestured between them—“I said you were going to break my heart, remember?”

He nodded, wariness in his dark eyes.

“Do you remember what you said?”

Awareness dawned in his expression, and she noted the exact moment when he recalled his statement.

“I said no hearts involved.” His voice sounded scratchy and rough.

Good, since those words were like sandpaper on her already bruised heart. “I knew if I was going to let myself get involved with you, I’d have to keep up my walls. But you’re an intense guy, and what’s between us is too.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Tell me about it,” he muttered.

She smiled. “Yeah. Those walls crumble pretty quickly when you’re around. The thing is, if I’m going to survive you leaving—whenever that is—I have to keep living my life without relying on you.”

“And letting me know what’s going on with you is relying on me too much?” He spread his hands wide, not getting it.

“That’s right. It is.” Already the condo that had always felt like home seemed emptier when he wasn’t here. “I can’t let myself get used to calling you and sharing the little things when soon enough you’ll be gone and I’ll be on my own again.” Just the thought had her shivering.

“Jesus. Is it really that easy for you?” he asked, as if he were the wounded party.

“Are you kidding? Nothing about being with you is easy!” She’d give him her heart on a platter if he asked, but he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. And the pain that would slice through would be sharp enough without adding to it by knowingly letting him in.

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tight. “Join the club, baby.”

She managed a laugh at his use of their word and laid her head against his chest with a sigh. He smelled good, his musky warm scent sending her senses reeling.

“I still wish you’d called me,” he said, his lips against her hair.

“And I wish I didn’t care about you so much, but we don’t always get what we want.” She turned and started to walk away, to give herself much-needed space and distance.

Not because she was angry or upset but because she wanted to jump into his arms and lose herself in everything that was Mike. And losing herself wasn’t something she could afford to do. She thought of her mother, giving up her sense of self for a man who couldn’t give her what she needed. Mike wasn’t abusive like Cara’s father, but he couldn’t give her what she deserved either.

“Cara.” He grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him, the pain on his face indicating he wasn’t happy about their situation. “I feel more too.” He stroked a hand across her cheek.

“But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”

He winced, and she had her answer. Just because she’d expected it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “I’m starving,” she said, focusing on something she could control. “I’m going to heat up some lasagna. Want some?”

He shook his head. “I ate at my parents’.”

Without waiting for his reply, Cara headed toward the kitchen. Her bare feet stuck out of her navy, overly large Serendipity PD sweat pants, her bare waist peeking beneath her cropped top, her ponytail swishing against her back. She’d never looked more appealing. Mike groaned and followed her.

She had so many valid points, he didn’t know where to begin. Did his feelings for her change anything about his future intentions? The truth was, he didn’t know. Everything about his return to Serendipity was unexpected, from the overwhelming depth of feelings he had for this woman to the lack of desperation to leave. But Simon was feeling stronger and he would come back as chief, which would put Mike out of a job.

Could he stay in Serendipity as a detective or cop? Did he even want to? He didn’t know, and until he did, he wouldn’t give her false hope.

He waited until she’d put her dinner in the microwave before capturing her between his body and the kitchen counter. She studied him in silence with too-wise blue eyes.

“Know what I like most about you?” she asked.

The question surprised him. “My good looks?” he quipped.

She slipped her hands around his waist. “Other than that.”

“My charm?”

She managed a laugh. “Besides that—you’ve always been up front with me. Knowing where I stand makes whatever happens more bearable.”

He smiled at the compliment. One that somehow, deep inside, didn’t make him feel very good about himself at all.

Mike stayed while she ate dinner. He asked if she wanted to talk about Daniella or her situation, but she said no, she’d done enough of that all day. So they discussed things like the state of the computer system at the station and Annie and Joe’s upcoming wedding. Mike watched an episode of Law & Order, which she loved and he found ridiculous, so he focused on her devouring half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s instead. Her lips wrapped around the spoon and she slowly savored the ice cream, licking the treat with her tongue and moaning with each chunk of cookie dough she found in the tub.

He couldn’t take another minute and not pick her up and carry her to bed. He had no doubt she’d let him, too. She wasn’t one to hold on to hurt or disappointment. Discussion finished, she hadn’t brought it up again, nor did she punish him with moodiness or any inkling of disappointment.

As they chatted about everyday things, as she seemed content, his mood worsened, which only pissed him off. He had a woman who accepted his life and wasn’t making demands. He should be relieved. Hell, he should be sinking into her willing body and taking everything she was willing to give. But she’d had a rough weekend and though he knew sex would be a good temporary distraction, he couldn’t shake the feeling that sleeping with her tonight, when their feelings were so raw, wouldn’t be fair to her.

She met his gaze over her spoonful of ice cream and grinned.

Okay, maybe her feelings weren’t raw after all, but his were. He was feeling unsettled after their intense talk, almost…unhappy that he was getting everything he wanted and thought he needed out of a relationship.

So instead of staying, he kissed her good night and headed home.

Monday morning, Mike stared at the mound of paperwork on his desk that seemed to have grown over the weekend. He had a part-time administrative assistant, a fifty-five-year-old woman named Rachel who liked to mother him and the rest of the officers who worked under him. Thankfully she was on this morning, and when she walked in with two cups of coffee, he gratefully accepted his and they got to work.

While she sifted through the various papers, Rachel made notes, updated his calendar, and sorted everything into piles for filing later on.

An hour later, they were nearly at the bottom of his inbox. True, his schedule was full for the week, but he was up and running efficiently once more.

“I’m not sure what I’d do without you,” he said to Rachel.

“Your father used to say the same thing. If I’m making myself indispensable, I’m doing my job right.” She smiled, and she looked younger than her light silver hair usually made her look.

“My father’s a smart man.” Mike smiled at the thought of Simon in this same seat.

“And you’ve got a lot of him in you. The respect you command from your officers, the way you don’t take the mayor’s BS—pardon my French—and of course, your way with the ladies.” She laughed. “Not that you’d do anything about all that attention they give you. You’re like your daddy in that way too.”

“Attention?” Mike asked. Since he’d been back in Serendipity, he hadn’t noticed any women paying him special notice.

“Another way you’re like Simon, God bless him. Once he laid eyes on your mama, there wasn’t another woman who could distract him.”

Mike didn’t know which comment to tackle first, so he went with the easiest. “You don’t say? Dad was a goner from the beginning?” He wanted to hear more about Simon and Ella in the early days, after Rex left and they’d gotten together.

He often wondered if Simon had done the right thing and fallen in love later, or if he’d always had a thing for Ella but the coast wasn’t clear until Rex left town. He’d also been curious about his mom, whether she’d married Simon out of desperation or true caring. He didn’t doubt she loved him now, but in the beginning? Mike shivered, knowing he was more afraid to know that part of the story, whether being pregnant with Mike had compelled his mother to make a choice she wouldn’t have otherwise.

He forced himself to refocus on Rachel, who was looking at him with a funny expression on her face. “Did you hear me?” she asked.

“Sorry. I got distracted.”

“I said, Simon always loved your mama, even when she was with that scoundrel, Rex…Oh!” Rachel slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

Mike shook his head. “You spoke the truth. No need to apologize.” Everyone, it seemed, knew Rex Bransom hadn’t been a man worth knowing.

Cheeks still pink, Rachel looked to Mike’s desk, pulling a manila envelope from the bottom of his inbox. “This is the last thing. It has your name on it.” She handed the package to Mike without meeting his gaze.

“It’s okay, Rachel. Really.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m going to take these stacks and head over to the filing room.” She gathered the papers and quickly made her escape.

With a groan, Mike lowered himself back to his seat, package in hand. He didn’t recognize the writing but realized this had to be the envelope he’d gotten a phone call about over a week ago. He’d forgotten all about it and obviously it’d been buried beneath piles of paperwork.

He opened the envelope and a clichéd black book fell out, along with a note. A quick read told him it was from Judge Baine’s wife:

In a lucid moment, my husband asked me to give you this. Old mistakes that he paid for by living with his guilty conscience that eats away at what few good moments he has now. As many suspected, the old Winkler place was, in fact, a brothel. Many otherwise good, prominent men kept it going—until the time you were asking about. Now you have the list in your hands. Do with it what you must. My husband has more than made up for his sins, at least to me, and he’s barely aware of what’s going on around him most of the time, anyway. But he did want to clear his conscience, and I followed his wishes.

Mike glanced up at the ceiling in his office. “A lead as well as some answers. Thank you, God.”

He jumped up and headed for the squad room, intent on finding Cara. He found her at her desk, typing in reports on the barebones system they had. Soon, though, his new system would be in place and even when he was gone from here, he’d have made a lasting impression.

That mattered to him, he realized. This place, a small police station with dingy walls, an air conditioner that needed to be replaced, and the people in it, mattered.

“Hi!” Cara glanced up from her desk.

Beautiful blue eyes focused on him and immediately brightened his day. “Hi. You have some time?”

“Umm, sure. Let me just save this…” She hit a button and pushed her chair back. “Ready. What’s up?”

He looked her over, loving how she appeared so in control and sexy in her uniform. “I have a lead on the money in the evidence room. Or at the very least, I have a list of names and information I can’t discuss here.”

“Then let’s go.”

She was dropping everything? “Don’t you have work to do?”

“I’m on top of things.”

“Good. I want to look at this in private. Can we go to your place?”

“Sure, but yours is closer.”

Mike paused. “But yours is warmer.” And he didn’t mean temperature. He liked the homey feel of her condo, and for the news he assumed he’d be getting, he didn’t want to be in his sterile room over Joe’s Bar.

Back at her condo, Cara made them grilled cheese sandwiches while Mike sat down at the kitchen table, pad and pen in front of him, Judge Baine’s black book open wide.

“It looks like a ledger,” she said, glancing over from where she stood at the stove, frying up lunch.

“It is, but it’s not used like one. Not exclusively anyway. There’s a list of names here. Prominent businessmen with initials underneath their names.”

She slid the spatula beneath the sandwiches, flipped them one more time, placed them on plates, and carried them to the table. “What else is there?”

He flipped through the book, coming to empty pages.

“Flip further,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “And eat before it gets cold. I worked hard on these.”

He grinned and took a bite. His eyes glazed over. “Delicious. This isn’t just grilled cheese.”

Pleasure filled her. “I’m not sharing my secret recipe. Besides, it’s not like you’ll ever cook it. If you want it, you’ll have to come to me and get it.”

“That would be my pleasure.” He started to reach for her, but she slapped his hand.

“Work first,” she said, tapping the book with her finger.

“Can we play later?” His eyes darkened at the suggestion, and her heart skipped a beat.

She’d been disappointed when he’d kissed her and gone home last night, but a part of her understood. They’d both admitted to deeper-than-planned feelings, and sleeping together last night would have been a very bad idea. She’d have ended up feeling way too much. This afternoon, though, they were back on familiar playful ground, where she at least had a shot at keeping her emotions in check.

“Maybe,” she said, teasing him. “Now keep looking.”

He turned the sheets of paper one by one, finally coming to another set of filled pages. “Bingo. Women’s names.”

“I bet you can match those to the initials underneath the men’s names.”

A quick scan back and forth proved her right. “Okay, so the initials are names of women,” he said.

“One question answered. Let’s focus on the men. Any names you recognize?”

“Other than the judge? Only almost every one,” Mike muttered. “Judges, politicians, family men, men with money, working-class guys…” He shook his head in disgust.

“Is Simon in there?” she asked gently.

He skimmed the pages more than once before meeting her gaze. “No.” His eyes shimmered with relief. “No, thank God.”

So whatever Simon knew, he hadn’t been cheating on his wife.

“What about—”

“Yeah. Rex is here,” he said, reading her mind. “And not just as a patron but as a benefactor. Hell, it looks like Rex helped fund the place. There’s cash notations next to names, including Rex and…oh shit.”

“What?” She leaned in close.

“Martin Harrington, Faith’s father, is in here.” He slammed the book closed. “It’s like a bird’s-eye view of the sex lives of the men in Serendipity.”

“Eww.”

He nodded in agreement. “Let’s break this down. What do we know?”

“We’ve confirmed that the Winkler place was a brothel and that the old boys’ network kept it going.” Having finished her sandwich, Cara pushed her plate away and took a long drink of her water.

Mike, too, took the last bite of his sandwich and added his plate to hers. “What about the money in the evidence locker?”

“We know marked bills were found in both the trunk and the evidence locker, so we know there are ties to the Winkler place. We know many prominent men in Serendipity were involved, and we know whatever it is has been over for years,” Cara said.

“So we have more information now than we did before, but we’re still at a dead end, and unless we want to question every man on this list and bring all this dirty laundry to light after thirty years, we’re still at a dead end. And the only two people we have asked aren’t talking.”

Cara rose and placed her hands on his shoulders, massaging the tight knots, engaging all her senses as she worked her fingers through his shirt and into his skin. “All you can do now is wait until you feel Simon’s strong enough to push for answers.”

Which put this case back on hold.

“The mayor left a message this morning. Hell, she called last week.”

“Just tell her you’ve reached a dead end. It’s not a lie.”

“It’s not the truth, either.”

She stilled her hands and leaned her cheek against his. “We haven’t found anything that needs to be revealed.”

He inclined his head. “And I bend the rules all the time when it suits me. And it suits me now. I just need to know.”

“I get that.” She kissed his cheek, savoring the masculine scent and the rough stubble against her lips.

His appreciative groan rumbled through her at the same time his cell phone rang. “Dammit.” He grabbed his phone. “Yeah.” He listened to the caller on the other end. “Thanks, Erin. I’ll let her know.” He disconnected the call and turned to face her.

“What?”

“Bob Francone made bail.”

Cara sucked in a startled breath. “Because it wasn’t the first time, I thought they’d keep him locked up. But I’m a cop. I know better.” She kicked the leg of his chair, but he was still sitting in it and the pain seared through her toe. “Ouch. Shit. Damn!”

“Hey.” Instead of letting her continue taking her frustration out on herself, he did what he should have done last night instead of leaving. He scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the room.

“Hey! Put me down. I have to call Daniella and let her know.”

“Erin already did. That’s her job, remember?”

“Then she needs protection.”

“Which we can’t give her. Her job is off a federal highway and she’s staying with someone who lives outside Serendipity. But she has a restraining order—”

“Which means nothing, and you know that!” She wriggled in his arms, but he held on tight. Damn, he liked the weight and feel of her. “Stop moving,” he said, pressing his lips against her neck and licking her there.

She sighed and let out a soft moan. “If I do, can I call Daniella?”

Mike closed his eyes, realizing so much about her in one short second. “Cara, you can’t take care of everyone. You can’t control what’s going to happen. Sometimes, you just have to let things be.”

She cuddled into him, her actions speaking more of trust than lust, and his heart melted. “Mike?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I call Daniella now?”

Mike said the only thing that came to mind. “If I agree, can we end up in bed?”