Protectors of the Innocent - Chapter 1 Part 2
From the author of Bodywoman - action romance.
Matt pushed the door to the parking lot open with a quiet creak. The night watchman buried his head in his newspaper and a single light shone at the entrance, cloaking the parking bays in darkness. They crept along the wall towards the reading man. His hands tore the paper in two when he looked up.
'Don't do anything stupid. I'm a cop.' George put the paper down. His eyes fixed on the pistol in Matt's hand while his own hung limp from his side.
'Okay. What's wrong?' George's voice rasped past the dry patch in his throat.
'Did anyone tamper with the vehicles this evening?'
George shook his head. 'Only the repairman fixing June's tires earlier in the afternoon.' Her heart stopped. She never requested a repairman.
'What time was this, George?' June heard the first stirrings of hysteria in her voice. She hated to feel so powerless.
'About three in the afternoon. I came on a little earlier than usual and they had just finished. 'His eyes darted between June and Matt. June muttered some words of reassurance. George frowned, but remained silent.
'Stay here.' Matt walked towards the vehicle, keeping to the deep shadows. There were only one other vehicle in the bays. He stopped about three meters from her car and waved at June to come over.
'Does Superman over there have a torch?' Matt didn't take his eyes off the silver Land Cruiser. George stared at them, motionless in his indecision. June called him over. He carefully approached.
'Borrow me your torch, George.' June whispered to him.
Matt shone the torch on the interior of the vehicle. Everything seemed fine. She couldn't see any damage to the car. Matt lay on his stomach and peeked under the car, but almost immediately he slowly rose and moved back. June's heart picked up speed and she dried her palms on her skirt.
'George, do you have a telephone I can use?' George pointed towards his booth at the gate.
'Get inside the booth and stay there. Don't use a cell phone and don't use your radio. And keep Miss White inside, no matter what happens. Can you do that, George? ' Authority came easy to the deep voice.
'Yes, Sir.' George took June's arm and started walking towards the booth. She pulled her arm free. Her hackles went up. She detested getting ordered around, like she was one of his troops. Matt took the phone on the desk and dialed a number. After the first few words, June sank onto the chair. A bomb in her car? Someone placed a bomb in her car?
Matt ended the call and sat on the edge of the desk. Minutes later, a white sedan pulled up to the entrance. The occupants resembled space travelers out for a drive. George opened the gate and at Matt's instructions he left it open. Two people alighted from the unmarked vehicle and walked towards the Land Cruiser. They also stopped a couple of meters away.
'Let's get onto the floor.' He pulled June up from the chair. They huddled together in the small cubicle made for one, each avoiding the other's eyes. One of the spacemen knocked on the window. George opened the booth and let him in.
'Just a tracking device. You want me to take it out?' The man perched on the corner of the table.
'No, I think leave it in place. Might come in handy.' Matt rose and pulled June up.
"Thanks for the trouble."
June dropped her briefcase on the back seat and shifted in behind the steering wheel while the key in her hand burned against her damp palms.
'I'll follow you home.' Matt closed the door behind her and stood away from the car.
June put the key in the ignition and hesitated. If they made a mistake, this was going to be her last breath on earth. While meeting Matt's eyes, she turned the key. The vehicle roared to life. Pulling into the light traffic she exceeded the speed limit for the first time in her life. She just wanted to get home.
She drummed her fingers on the steering while waiting for the electric gate to open. Another vehicle stopped behind her and Matt alighted. He followed her into the house and once inside he brushed past her. She wanted to resent his arrogance, but her usual energetic self deserted her. Matt returned and sagged down on the flowery sofa. She held her breath, waiting for him to put his feet up. Her spacious living room grew too small for the both of them and she sought refuge in the kitchen.
"Would you like some tea?"
"Coffee, if you have, please." He sure as hell seemed less out of place than she would have thought. Carrying the laden tray she stopped short at the door. Matt rested his head on the back of the sofa and shoved his long legs under the coffee table . His hands lay flat against the armrest and fatigue lined his closed eyes. She put the tray down quietly, kicked off her shoes and sunk down in the over-sized chair opposite him.
Questions whirled around in her mind. Why did someone shoot at her? Did they try to kill her or scare her? How could anyone know about the files she so carefully duplicated? She lowered her head into the soft folds of the chair. It felt so good to be home, to be safe.
"If they wanted you dead, you would be." Matt's deep voice startled her out of her reverie. How did he know what she was thinking?
"Who are they and how did you know about the shooting?" The suspicions of earlier surfaced again.
Matt lifted his head and their eyes met. A nameless flame sprung to life in her veins, kindling, begging to be released. No. His eyes move downwards to her blouse and he jumped up.
"You're hurt. Dammit, woman why didn't you say so." He grabbed hold of the flimsy material and tore the sleeve off without asking. June looked down at her arm and paled. The bullet had grazed the skin and the once white flesh oozed blood onto the ripped material.
"It's just a scratch. Let it be. I'll clean it later." June tried to shrug off his hand holding her arm. His breath smelled of cigarette smoke and coffee. Tiny flecks of green speckled the brown eyes staring intently into hers. His thumb circled the wound and June's body responded. She pushed him away, rose from the chair and walked over to the partially closed drapes.
"You still haven't answered my question." Even with her back turned on him she sensed his movement. He stood behind her, not touching her, but close enough for his breath to fan her hair. She folded her arms protectively in front of her.
"That's because I can't. You were placed under surveillance because you asked questions at the Children's Homes." She remained quiet, waiting for him to go on. When he didn't, she turned around. Her head reached his chest and she took a step backwards.
"Why, what did I do wrong?"
"Why were you asking so many questions? What were you doing at the office so late at night? Were you waiting for your lover?" June pulled herself to her full length. She resented his suggestion and refused to dignify the implicit accusation with an answer.
"Why was I under surveillance?"
"Your questions overlapped with a case we are investigating." He turned around and seated himself on the sofa again. The coffee lost some of the steam and he picked up the mug from the tray. Absently June noticed that he didn't use milk or sugar.
"What investigation?" Matt sighed and returned the mug to the tray. He grabbed the keys from the table and turned to her.
"Miss White, I'm sure this was a case of mistaken identity. If the same people we are investigating wanted you dead, you would be by now. This is probably just someone out for thrills. We get that sometimes in the lower part of town." He headed towards the door, leaving June standing with her mouth open.
"So please explain the tracking device, Captain Ferreira. It is Ferreira?"
"Don't go melodramatic on me now. Although I prefer this Miss White to the prissy Commissioner who never puts a foot wrong." His hand rested on the doorknob.
"Mistaken identity, again. I presume someone will be in deep shit before the night is over. So try to relax Commissioner, you've had an exciting day." Matt slammed the door behind him, leaving June staring at the vacant space his bulk left behind.
"Bastard" she whispered into the empty room.
June carried the tray back to the kitchen. Her eyes caught the briefcase popped up against the wall. She hurried forward and spilled the contents on the dining room table. All the files were intact. She returned them to their former order and slipped them into a big brown envelope. Finding a hiding place for them had to wait until morning. She locked the files into the safe and a short while later she climbed into bed.
Sleep evaded her as the evening's events replayed in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more she agreed with the obnoxious Captain. Nobody had any reason to want her dead. She snuggled deeper into the pillow. Besides, she had the perfect place to hide the files.
******
Any comments are welcome.
'Don't do anything stupid. I'm a cop.' George put the paper down. His eyes fixed on the pistol in Matt's hand while his own hung limp from his side.
'Okay. What's wrong?' George's voice rasped past the dry patch in his throat.
'Did anyone tamper with the vehicles this evening?'
George shook his head. 'Only the repairman fixing June's tires earlier in the afternoon.' Her heart stopped. She never requested a repairman.
'What time was this, George?' June heard the first stirrings of hysteria in her voice. She hated to feel so powerless.
'About three in the afternoon. I came on a little earlier than usual and they had just finished. 'His eyes darted between June and Matt. June muttered some words of reassurance. George frowned, but remained silent.
'Stay here.' Matt walked towards the vehicle, keeping to the deep shadows. There were only one other vehicle in the bays. He stopped about three meters from her car and waved at June to come over.
'Does Superman over there have a torch?' Matt didn't take his eyes off the silver Land Cruiser. George stared at them, motionless in his indecision. June called him over. He carefully approached.
'Borrow me your torch, George.' June whispered to him.
Matt shone the torch on the interior of the vehicle. Everything seemed fine. She couldn't see any damage to the car. Matt lay on his stomach and peeked under the car, but almost immediately he slowly rose and moved back. June's heart picked up speed and she dried her palms on her skirt.
'George, do you have a telephone I can use?' George pointed towards his booth at the gate.
'Get inside the booth and stay there. Don't use a cell phone and don't use your radio. And keep Miss White inside, no matter what happens. Can you do that, George? ' Authority came easy to the deep voice.
'Yes, Sir.' George took June's arm and started walking towards the booth. She pulled her arm free. Her hackles went up. She detested getting ordered around, like she was one of his troops. Matt took the phone on the desk and dialed a number. After the first few words, June sank onto the chair. A bomb in her car? Someone placed a bomb in her car?
Matt ended the call and sat on the edge of the desk. Minutes later, a white sedan pulled up to the entrance. The occupants resembled space travelers out for a drive. George opened the gate and at Matt's instructions he left it open. Two people alighted from the unmarked vehicle and walked towards the Land Cruiser. They also stopped a couple of meters away.
'Let's get onto the floor.' He pulled June up from the chair. They huddled together in the small cubicle made for one, each avoiding the other's eyes. One of the spacemen knocked on the window. George opened the booth and let him in.
'Just a tracking device. You want me to take it out?' The man perched on the corner of the table.
'No, I think leave it in place. Might come in handy.' Matt rose and pulled June up.
"Thanks for the trouble."
June dropped her briefcase on the back seat and shifted in behind the steering wheel while the key in her hand burned against her damp palms.
'I'll follow you home.' Matt closed the door behind her and stood away from the car.
June put the key in the ignition and hesitated. If they made a mistake, this was going to be her last breath on earth. While meeting Matt's eyes, she turned the key. The vehicle roared to life. Pulling into the light traffic she exceeded the speed limit for the first time in her life. She just wanted to get home.
She drummed her fingers on the steering while waiting for the electric gate to open. Another vehicle stopped behind her and Matt alighted. He followed her into the house and once inside he brushed past her. She wanted to resent his arrogance, but her usual energetic self deserted her. Matt returned and sagged down on the flowery sofa. She held her breath, waiting for him to put his feet up. Her spacious living room grew too small for the both of them and she sought refuge in the kitchen.
"Would you like some tea?"
"Coffee, if you have, please." He sure as hell seemed less out of place than she would have thought. Carrying the laden tray she stopped short at the door. Matt rested his head on the back of the sofa and shoved his long legs under the coffee table . His hands lay flat against the armrest and fatigue lined his closed eyes. She put the tray down quietly, kicked off her shoes and sunk down in the over-sized chair opposite him.
Questions whirled around in her mind. Why did someone shoot at her? Did they try to kill her or scare her? How could anyone know about the files she so carefully duplicated? She lowered her head into the soft folds of the chair. It felt so good to be home, to be safe.
"If they wanted you dead, you would be." Matt's deep voice startled her out of her reverie. How did he know what she was thinking?
"Who are they and how did you know about the shooting?" The suspicions of earlier surfaced again.
Matt lifted his head and their eyes met. A nameless flame sprung to life in her veins, kindling, begging to be released. No. His eyes move downwards to her blouse and he jumped up.
"You're hurt. Dammit, woman why didn't you say so." He grabbed hold of the flimsy material and tore the sleeve off without asking. June looked down at her arm and paled. The bullet had grazed the skin and the once white flesh oozed blood onto the ripped material.
"It's just a scratch. Let it be. I'll clean it later." June tried to shrug off his hand holding her arm. His breath smelled of cigarette smoke and coffee. Tiny flecks of green speckled the brown eyes staring intently into hers. His thumb circled the wound and June's body responded. She pushed him away, rose from the chair and walked over to the partially closed drapes.
"You still haven't answered my question." Even with her back turned on him she sensed his movement. He stood behind her, not touching her, but close enough for his breath to fan her hair. She folded her arms protectively in front of her.
"That's because I can't. You were placed under surveillance because you asked questions at the Children's Homes." She remained quiet, waiting for him to go on. When he didn't, she turned around. Her head reached his chest and she took a step backwards.
"Why, what did I do wrong?"
"Why were you asking so many questions? What were you doing at the office so late at night? Were you waiting for your lover?" June pulled herself to her full length. She resented his suggestion and refused to dignify the implicit accusation with an answer.
"Why was I under surveillance?"
"Your questions overlapped with a case we are investigating." He turned around and seated himself on the sofa again. The coffee lost some of the steam and he picked up the mug from the tray. Absently June noticed that he didn't use milk or sugar.
"What investigation?" Matt sighed and returned the mug to the tray. He grabbed the keys from the table and turned to her.
"Miss White, I'm sure this was a case of mistaken identity. If the same people we are investigating wanted you dead, you would be by now. This is probably just someone out for thrills. We get that sometimes in the lower part of town." He headed towards the door, leaving June standing with her mouth open.
"So please explain the tracking device, Captain Ferreira. It is Ferreira?"
"Don't go melodramatic on me now. Although I prefer this Miss White to the prissy Commissioner who never puts a foot wrong." His hand rested on the doorknob.
"Mistaken identity, again. I presume someone will be in deep shit before the night is over. So try to relax Commissioner, you've had an exciting day." Matt slammed the door behind him, leaving June staring at the vacant space his bulk left behind.
"Bastard" she whispered into the empty room.
June carried the tray back to the kitchen. Her eyes caught the briefcase popped up against the wall. She hurried forward and spilled the contents on the dining room table. All the files were intact. She returned them to their former order and slipped them into a big brown envelope. Finding a hiding place for them had to wait until morning. She locked the files into the safe and a short while later she climbed into bed.
Sleep evaded her as the evening's events replayed in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more she agreed with the obnoxious Captain. Nobody had any reason to want her dead. She snuggled deeper into the pillow. Besides, she had the perfect place to hide the files.
******
Any comments are welcome.
Post Comment
