Bare It All

Alice’s heart pounded. “So...you’re saying when a really bad guys dies, it’s hard to mourn him.”

“Impossible, actually. I do my job. I follow all the leads. I uphold justice. But I’m not going to lose sleep over it.”

Would he feel that way if he ever knew the extent of what she’d done?

Reese’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. “But a kid alone on the streets, or a woman who’s been brutalized, yeah, that plagues me.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Once is too often, you know? We get domestic abuse calls all the time. Usually it’s drinking that got out of hand, and the one who called us regrets it later. Once we’re involved, we’re involved.”

“I think that’s a very good rule, actually.”

“Yeah, me, too. Because you just never know.” He blew out a disgusted breath. “Last year there was a case of a man who’d used his wife as a punching bag too damn many times. Our first call there was due to a neighbor. The wife denied being hurt.” Reese tightened all over. “But she had bruises, and there was something in her eyes....”

Swallowing became difficult; Alice had seen that look too many times, on too many women.

She’d even seen it...while looking in the mirror.

His hand on the tabletop curled into a fist. “Once we got involved, we found a macabre history of broken bones and concussions.” Deliberately, he shook himself out of those memories. “She’d married him when she was sixteen. For twelve years she put up with that abuse.”

“I hope he got a very tough punishment.”

“If death is tough enough.”

Oh, God. “You didn’t...?”

Reese shook his head. “The bastard went after the neighbor who’d called the cops. He broke in, drunk and raging.” With satisfaction, he said, “The neighbor shot him dead. Self-defense. He had a permit for the weapon. No charges were brought against him.”

Alice bit her lip. “The woman?”

“Last I heard, she went home to her family, and they were attending counseling together.”

Alice sincerely hoped the woman was happier now. She had not a single doubt that Reese would have done everything in his power to ensure that outcome. “You’re very good at your job.”

He gave a short laugh. “I hope so. At the very least, I’m as honorable as I can be.”

“Of course you are.” She couldn’t imagine a more honorable man.

“I appreciate your faith.” He sent her a smile. “You know we had some corruption at the department. Having crooked cops around complicates everything. Peterson has a handle on that now, but cleaning house is going to leave us shorthanded for a while. I’ve got a stack of shit on my desk, open cases that I need to get to.”

“I understand.” She had her own workload piling up. “I suppose on Monday, we’ll get back to business.”

He eyed her. “I have a feeling that you, Alice, will be my business.”

“You mean personally?” It still amazed her that Reese wanted her. Not as much as she always wanted him, but enough.

He shrugged. “With what Rowdy told me, probably professionally, too.” He finished off the other half of his sandwich, watching her as he chewed. “Speaking of that...since you’re feeling better now, let’s get on with the rest.” He nudged her plate toward her. “You can talk while you eat.”

So he’d only fed her to help her regain control? Considerate and practical. “What happened today, you mean?”

“Yeah, that.” Crossing his arms on the table, he scowled at her. “What the hell, Alice?”

The sudden shift in his tone left her feeling defensive. How could he forgive her for what she’d taken part in—forced or otherwise—so long ago, but take issue with her for getting involved now? “She needed help.”

“Apparently so. But what you did was reckless, and it’s as likely you could have been caught and hurt instead of helping her.”

What he said...she’d realized that all on her own. “I know. That’s why I was thinking I need to be better equipped, and I need to get a better plan.”

Reese choked. Coughing and wheezing, he held up a hand to fend off her assistance. After finishing off more milk, he took a moment, his shoulders bunched, his expression dire.

When he caught his breath, Alice didn’t give him a chance to start lecturing. “She had a bandage loosely wrapped around her arm. I thought she’d been hurt, Reese, maybe wounded.”

Incredulous, he stared at her. “And so you decided to jump into the middle of it?”

Okay, so that sounded bad. Alice tried to reassure him. “Turned out she wasn’t injured at all. She’d just gotten a new tattoo.”

That got Reese’s attention, not that he hadn’t already been focused on her with the force of a laser beam. “A tattoo?”

“Still red and swollen.” Alice chewed her bottom lip, remembering. “I found her at the mall parking lot, and it seemed to me she’d just gotten it, probably someplace close. Like maybe only a few hours before. The tattoo was part of why she was so upset.”

Reese stared at her. “What did it look like?”

She tried to picture it in her mind. “An odd design made up of numbers and lines twining together.” Knowing it was important, she said, “Cheryl told me that the tattoo is used as identification for people carrying drugs—mules, I think she said they’re called. The lines and numbers indicate what drugs are being carried, where they’re from and how much they’ll cost.”