Cold Cases and Second Chances Read online

  The minute I'd met Robert, my first day in homicide, the beautiful older man caught my attention even before we were introduced. His hair was the perfect blend of salt and pepper, he had laugh lines beside his dark eyes, and even with his neatly trimmed beard, you could see the deep dimples in his cheeks. I'd fallen in love at first sight, and then it all came crashing down when he was introduced as my partner.

  I'd kept myself under control. I'd never been in the closet, but the ring on his finger said he was taken. I'd asked how long he'd been married, and he'd told me he was divorced almost a year. My heart broke because he had to love her to still wear his ring, but one day it had disappeared. I didn't mention it.

  Another reason I had kept my feelings and sexuality to myself was his family had become mine. Children and grandchildren, and sadly that had made me want him more. Watching the loving way he cared for them. He never raised his voice and always praised them. I'd even been there when Becca was born. One of the first to hold her, and she'd been perfect. My happiness was tempered by the pain of what I'd never have.

  We had a friendship I wouldn't ruin. I'd nearly panicked when RJ had told me to get myself a boyfriend at Christmas. Awaited the awkwardness that would come from the revelation, but while he'd looked shocked, our relationship hadn't changed. He even took my flirting with a teasing smile. We still had a beer after work and had a standing date night for Chinese. I still came to family dinner a few times a month. I saw his kids more than he did.

  I groaned as my alarm went off and I rolled from bed, picked up the towel with my toy inside. On the way to my bathroom, I took a deep breath. I knew I was pathetic, but I still wanted him to love me. I just had to remind myself that he wasn't mine to want.

  Romeo barreled into my room at hearing my alarm and sprawled his massive, long-legged body out on my bedroom floor. He lived by his routine. My alarm brought him to my room. He'd lie outside the bathroom while I showered. While I fixed his breakfast, he'd run around the backyard. Afterward, he'd go take up the entire sofa to wait for his playtime with the neighbor's grandson. He knew when I got home from work we'd go for an hour-long run or walk, depending on what he felt like.

  We both were attached to our schedules, and we rarely varied unless I was on a case and I had a long list of people who'd walk him for me. Romeo huffed hard enough his jowls vibrated, and he stared at me with sad eyes.

  "Don't huff at me, I know, but I'm only a few minutes late." I removed the dildo from the towel, cleaned and stored it in one of the drawers.

  Thankfully I wasn't high maintenance. I was showered, dressed, fed the dog, and was out the door within an hour. My phone beeped as I slid into the driver's seat of my SUV.

  Robert: You on your way? Lab results are due any minute.

  Remy: Pulling out now.

  Robert: Get off the damn phone, Remy!

  I’d grinned as I threw my phone aside after reading his text in his voice. All sexy and stern, that voice of his would get me in trouble one of those days. The drive across the city had taken a bit longer as I hit the early morning rush hour. That's what I got for buying a house on the edge of the city with good schools and a park; not that I needed either except for taking my dog for his run.

  I drove around to the back of the building and pulled into the underground authorized parking. I parked next to Robert's assigned vehicle. Once I pulled the handle and pushed the door open, I slid out and strode toward the elevator. I rode up to the fifth floor, and Robert was waiting.

  "What did I do now?" I asked as I took in his irritated expression.

  "What did I tell you about your phone?"

  "Um, get off the damn phone, Remy, do I need to—"

  "Don't be a smartass."

  "I wasn't even moving. Hell, I hadn't started it yet." I batted my lashes.

  "Cute isn't getting you out of being bitched at."

  I let out a huff as I walked around him to walk to my desk. He was right on my heels. "What did the report say?"

  "We got a hit on one of the samples. The other wasn't in the system. Lance Marstrell. Two-time felon, got off on a technicality for his third about a year ago." He handed me the file, and I took it to flip through the pages. "His last known address is in there. I already called his Parole Officer. He said Marstrell is living with his girlfriend. Problem is, him and our vic are known associates. The DNA could've been left in the apartment at any time."

  "Do I get to be bad cop this time when we go to talk to them?"

  "What happened last time you did that?"

  "The suspect gave me his phone number."

  "It was the set-up for a bad porn."

  "Now, now." I leaned in close. "Watch a lot of porn, Daddy? No, no, I don't think my innocent ears could take it."

  "You're a pain in the ass." I opened my mouth to make a comment, and he arched a thick brow, and I snapped my teeth closed so quickly they clicked. "I thought so. No bad cop for you."

  "Shame, I've seen you play the bad cop."

  "Get your shit together, and let's go. And no hitting on the bad boys. It's probably why you're single."

  I gasped and pouted, let my lip start quivering.

  "One damn tear and I'm going alone."

  "Fine. When did you get so mean?" He rolled his eyes and spun me back toward the elevator. As much as I worried about Robert finding out, I felt more relaxed, but didn't want to let my guard down too much. He was too smart not to notice the way I looked at him—how I craved his presence.

  We silently took the elevator back to the garage and got in the car. Joking around was normal for us. It relieved the stresses of the job, but we were going into the interview with no information other than knowing the man was a two-time felon. While most of the suspect's charges were drug-related, we knew that could change if he got high on his own supply. Would he be alone? Unlike some of my former partners, Robert had my back, and I felt safe. And safety meant everything to me.

  5

  ROBERT

  We stood at the trunk of the car, removed our jackets, and slipped on our vests. We were just going in for information, but we never took that lightly. As homicide detectives, we sometimes came up against the worst of the worst. Most of them were looking at capital murder charges. Things could go wrong at any moment, especially when they felt they were backed against the ropes. The few times we'd come into contact with Marstrell, he had an attitude but nothing crazy for a felon dealing with the cops.

  "You ready?" I asked as I checked to make sure his vest was tight enough. I didn't understand this overwhelming need to watch over him—to protect him.

  "Yeah, we're just here to talk. That's your area, that pretty face of yours." I batted his hands away as he attempted to pinch my cheeks.

  "Get your ass inside," I ordered and waited until he turned away from me to smile. The man was a pain in the ass, but he'd become my best friend. Other than Gladys, I didn’t think I’d ever had a best friend.

  I followed him up the stone steps and through the squeaky front double doors and took in the broken lock. We checked the bank of mailboxes, and the girlfriend's last name was on the plate for 4B.

  "Hope you got your cardio done this morning, old man. Walk-up."

  "I was already at the gym this morning while you were probably still in bed."

  "You saying I'm getting fat?" He glanced over his shoulder at me and arched a thick, dark brow.

  "We're not arguing." I pointed toward the stairs, and we slowly jogged up to the fourth floor. We'd done this a hundred times, so we worked as a seamless unit. Everything was natural and easy. That didn't mean the nerves didn't start building in my gut, and Remy's joking manner disappeared as we ascended the stairs. There was a faint aroma of food cooking, the pungent scent of weed, and it grew stronger as we stepped onto the fourth-floor landing.

  We stopped in front of the door with crooked numbers, the B held on by a prayer, and I raised my hand to knock. We were just there to talk and feel out the situation. No one answered, and I didn't hear any movement inside.

  "Robert."

  I glanced at him as he said my name and motioned to the door behind us with a nod, and I turned to find apartment C's door ajar. "Want to check it out?"

  "I'll take point," he said as he reached for his holster and removed his sidearm. I followed suit, and he took the two steps. He knocked, and the door opened a few more inches. "Police. Is there anyone in there?"

  After I called in our location, he looked toward me, I nodded, and he entered. I stayed close as we moved through the apartment clearing rooms.

  "Did you hear that?" he asked as he made his way toward the last room, which I assumed was a second bedroom.

  "I didn't hear anything," I whispered as we paused outside the door.

  I trusted Remy and prepared to clear the last room. His chest expanded with one last deep breath, and I used my fingers to countdown from three. We entered a cluttered room. It carried the stench of body odor and piss so badly my nose wrinkled, but the room was empty. I froze as there was a rustling sound from the closet. He aimed as he reached for handle, and as he turned the knob in slow motion, I moved to the side.

  I held my breath, I forced my hands not to clench around my weapon, and he threw open the door. All I heard was a gasp at whatever my partner found in the closet. I opened my mouth to ask what he’d found when the door banged back against the wall. I saw frightened eyes staring back at me from a large pile of laundry, and Remy started to fall to his knees as I sensed we weren't alone and spun to find two men with weapons storming into the apartment.

  I slammed the door as I yelled for him to get down and then identified ourselves. The automatic fire shredded the cheap door, and I returned fire. There was nowhere to hide, and all I could think was to protect my partner
. For a second, our eyes met as he dove to protect the child, and I tried to buy us time.

  Everything slowed down until I could see the bright flashes of muzzle fire. I spared one more glance as I saw him take one round to the center of his back. After that, everything was fiery pain and then suffocating darkness as if the assailants piled onto me. There was a call for officers down as I tried to fight my way out from under the weight. Yet the more I fought, the more intense the pain grew. How much harder it took to draw in more air into my lungs. I swore I felt lips surrounded by a soft beard brush my temple.

  Police bellowed as a firefight sounded as if it came from underwater. I tried to call Remy's name, but my mouth wouldn't form the word. Panic took over, and I tried again to open my mouth. Remy, my kids, and grandkids filled my mind—someone needs to watch them for me.

  "Detective Kauffman, can you hear me? Squeeze Remy's hand if you can."

  I tried to answer. I couldn't feel a hand in mine. Someone repeatedly yelled at me, and then I heard and felt nothing but the pain slowly dragging me under.

  6

  REMY

  Hours ago, I'd called in the code for officers down, and at that moment, the world had slowed down. Blood dried on my skin, and panic had long set in as I kept staring at the entrance to the emergency room. Robert had covered me as I cleared the apartment with the suspiciously open door. The whimpering from a closet had distracted me. I'd heard the shot seconds before fire exploded across my upper back, and adrenaline had made me spin. I could still see the momentary shock on Robert's face as the automatic rifle and muzzle fire filled the apartment we'd made entry into. His vest had been shredded by the armor-piercing rounds. The shooter wasn't even the suspect we came to interview.

  The last thing I'd remembered was covering his body with mine as I tried to protect him and the toddler I'd found locked in the closet. As soon as I became their shield, I hadn't cared about me. No one would've mourned me more than to place flowers on a grave. Robert and the baby had shit to live for.

  "Remy!" Carol yelling my name brought me out of my stupor. I caught her in my arms, and then RJ was right there, too.

  "What happened?" RJ demanded.

  "Two shooters. One had armor-piercing rounds. He's in surgery. That's all they'll tell me, but with a promise to update me when they know more."

  "Are you okay?"

  I didn't get a chance to answer Carol. "Detective Bosley, will you let us check you out now?" A nurse barreled across the waiting room. I'd put her off until her irritation with me showed clearly on her face.

  "You didn't get checked out?" RJ stared at me, and that's the moment I realized he noticed the blood. Most of it was Robert's, but some mine. I was spun, and I knew what they saw, my shredded dress shirt. The shooters were so tweaked out they hadn't aimed well enough. A few inches higher, I would've been dead.

  "I've had wo—"

  Carol and RJ, with the nurse, dragged me through the automated doors to an exam room. I closed my eyes to wait for the reaction as they removed my shirt and undershirt. The gasps were all I needed to hear as they took in my body littered with scars. I never went shirtless, not even with my past lovers, and if I did, I never gave them my back. My heavily inked body hid a lot of the damage—some if it was self-inflicted from decades of self-harm.

  "Remy." My name broke off in a sob.

  "Carol." I reached out and grabbed her by the back of her neck to pull her close. "I'm a survivor. Don't worry about me." I kissed her temple as she shook her head. I sent RJ a pleading look, and he dragged Carol off to find information about Robert.

  I was barely conscious of them getting x-rays and clearing me. I sat alone in the exam room waiting for the discharge papers and had made calls about the little girl we'd found. At some point, I'd answered some questions from Captain Tyson and internal affairs. Nurses and doctors pled with me to stay overnight for observation, but I told them no, that I'd sign whatever I needed. If they were so concerned, they'd find me somewhere in the hospital with my partner.

  "Detective Bosley?" A pretty middle-aged woman entered as I pulled a scrub top over my head.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I'm Fran Grier with Child Protective Services."

  "How's the little girl?"

  "Alive because of you, but she has some…it's one of the worse cases of neglect and abuse I've had to deal with. I was told you made a call about taking her in. Seems you have some pretty powerful friends."

  I ignored the comment about powerful friends because I didn’t want to explain why I’d had them in the first place. A lot of my past was easily searchable. Yet I preferred some things remained secret.

  "Yes, ma'am. I'm registered as an emergency foster parent who specializes in children with trauma. I want her, Ms. Grier." It had been almost two years since I'd taken in a foster. It just became too hard to let them go to homes or reuniting with biological families. I wanted the little girl, not to just heal her but for keeps. When I'd looked into her eyes, I'd seen me at four, ten, fifteen, broken and damaged, unwanted, and I never wanted her to feel that way again.

  "She'll be here a while, detective. They're estimating her age at about four, but she's extremely emaciated and nonverbal. We have to do home visits and your job—"

  "My neighbor has a home daycare. Her late husband was a cop, and we have a deal—"

  "We can take care of all that after you rest. What's your damage?"

  I waved off her concern. The pain I felt right then didn't compare to my past. "Deep bruising. I took about six to the back as I laid over her and my partner." Tears stung my eyes, but I turned away to gather up my ruined shirts and threw them in the trash.

  "I have all your contact information. Carmen, that's the girl's name. Her mother arrived at the apartment after a friend in the building let her know the cops had taped off her place. She was put into custody for alleged child neglect and abuse. Carmen's doctor said she'll be here for at least a week. We have to do—"

  "I want to be there for her exam. She won't understand, but I will." My expression must have shown I wasn't going to back down.

  "Very well. We're moving her up to the pediatric floor. I'll meet you there. I'm sure you want to check on your partner."

  I nodded as she left me alone, and I shoved my phone, wallet, and badge into my pockets. After I was sure everyone was okay, I'd head home for at least a few things and fresh clothes. First I had more important things to attend to.

  Two hours later, Robert was still in surgery to repair damage to his shoulder and to remove bullets and check for internal damage. I tried to keep my shit together as I sat beside Carmen's bed and pushed her silky curls back from her face. Focusing on her kept me from thinking my partner could be dying a few floors away.

  "Remy?" I glanced over my shoulder to find Carol in the doorway.

  "Is he out of surgery?"

  "Yeah, he'll be fine. The damage wasn't as bad as they thought, but they still have to check for nerve damage when he wakes up. He'll be in recovery for a bit and moved to a room. Is that her?"

  "Yeah, this is Carmen. I wanted to be with her during her sexual assault exam and have her see a friendly face when she woke up. I've been through the exam, so I wanted to be able to help explain, but at this age, they don't really understand. It's just scary."

  "Was she?"

  "There was some bruising but doesn't appear there was long-term abuse or penetration. There was no internal scarring which would typically be present in a rape/molestation victim of this age."

  "God, is she—"

  "We'll be going home in a week or so."

  "You're taking her in?"

  "I'm certified for fostering children with severe trauma. Mine is a specialized home. I'll be taking some leave to get her settled and ease her into daycare, which I've already set up. Her social worker is pushing through the paperwork and home visits to make sure it's all ready by the time she's discharged."

  "Remy, your—" Her voice broke, and I knew what she wanted to know.

  "It's okay. It was a long time ago. You'd be surprised how much a person can take and still survive. Don't mention this to Robert, okay?"