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  Somehow I managed to bob my head up and down. He still wanted to see where this thing between us might go. He’d said so earlier, but our emotions had been too raw, the insanity too fresh to make sense of how we felt. There really were no words to explain how I felt at that moment. Maybe it was still too soon.

  Sensing my loss for words, he left it at that and we joined the chief in the too-quiet corridor. I felt beyond numb…confused…relieved…and so damned exhausted.

  This way, Chief Kent said to me.

  I knew that Barlow followed, but he stayed some distance behind us. When we reached the intensive care unit, Chief Kent hesitated.

  Merri, when you’ve had time to come to terms with all that’s happened, I want you to know that my offer still stands. Whenever you’re ready there’s a place in Metro for you. I’m thinking you would be most at home in our crime-scene investigation unit. If you choose to return to the archives, I can live with that as well. He patted me on the shoulder. You think about it and let me know.

  “I will.”

  I barely kept my emotions at bay as I moved into the ICU and on to where the guards waited outside Mason Conrad’s cubicle. The doctor was just coming out.

  Don’t push him, he advised sternly. And don’t keep him talking too long.

  “I’ll keep it short,” I assured him.

  The doctor didn’t look happy about it, but he let me pass.

  Mason Conrad looked as pale as the sheets covering him, and a barrage of medical equipment monitored his vitals. He’d taken that bullet for me, almost paid the ultimate price for knowing too much. I owed him more than I could possibly ever hope to repay. Despite knowing what I did about who and what he was, I couldn’t prevent feeling immensely grateful to him.

  He watched as I moved to his bedside. “Looks like you’re going to make it,” I said. I felt my voice wobble, but I ushered a cheery smile into place. At least I hoped it was cheery. I tried really hard.

  Looks like, he agreed. He moistened his lips. They looked dry and cracked.

  A cup of water with a straw inserted into it sat on the bedside table. “Is it okay for you to have more water?”

  He nodded. I put the straw to his lips and waited while he took a few sips before I set it aside.

  You fooled me. The look in his eyes was definitely not what I had expected from a man reported to be a coldhearted killer. To be honest, I hadn’t known what to expect. No one was more startled than me when the chief announced that he wanted to talk to me or that he intended to cooperate fully with the police.

  “I did what I had to do,” I admitted.

  A barely discernible nod acknowledged my statement.

  I’m going to cooperate with Chief Kent, he said. If I’m lucky maybe I’ll get off a little lighter.

  “That’s good.” I was glad he’d decided to do the right thing. I wanted something good to come of all this.

  He grimaced with the effort of reaching out and taking my hand. I didn’t draw away. A ghost of a smile haunted one corner of his mouth. You made me remember what it feels like to want someone like you. Someone sweet and innocent. Now I wish I could forget.

  My pulse fluttered, making me light-headed. I had to get back on neutral territory here. I remembered something he’d said to me my first night at Hammond’s mansion. “You told me you had a sister who was blind. What happened to her?” I worked hard at keeping my respiration even, but it was not easy. My emotions were still too raw.

  She died. Let the wrong kind of man take advantage of her. It was obvious that the memory still pained him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He squeezed my hand. You just make sure it doesn’t happen to you.

  I tried not to ask. I really did. I bit my lip. Considered just saying goodbye and getting the hell out, but I couldn’t. I had to know.

  “Mason…” I winced at having stepped into personal territory. I’d already let him hold my hand. Any sense of professionalism I’d ever possessed seemed to be curiously absent at the moment…or maybe being too damned curious was the problem. “Mr. Conrad—”

  Mason. There was no mistaking the look in my eyes now. He remembered quite well exactly what put us on a first-name basis, beyond his insisting I call him that.

  I blushed from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. “Okay. Mason. Adcock was connected to Hammond, but turned on him, is that right?”

  He nodded. He kept Hammond informed until two weeks ago. He didn’t mention you. We suspected he was working with Vargas and Mathers in the end.

  It boggled my mind. How was one supposed to tell the good guys from the bad guys anymore? I sighed. That’s what people like Steven Barlow were for…and maybe me, though I felt lost just now.

  “Thank you…” I let him see in my eyes the sincerity of my words. “For saving my life.” I blinked back the tears that crested on my lashes. “I’ll check on you tomorrow,” I told him. I had to get out of here. Had to clear my head of all the confusion and look at this whole situation from a more objective place. I backed away a couple of steps. “Take care.”

  He nodded. You, too. Let me know if there’s anything about us you can’t forget.

  I turned away before I said or did something I might regret. I walked past the guards without slowing. Kent and Barlow waited outside the ICU.

  “I need to go home.” I walked away without waiting for a response or without even a glance at Barlow. I couldn’t take any more of this. It was no longer about work. I’d begun to wonder if it ever really had been.

  Ten o’clock had come and gone that night before I prepared for bed. I’d spent most of the evening with my family. Everyone was excited about Chief Kent’s offer except me. I was far too exhausted, too emotionally drained, to work up any enthusiasm for anything.

  Even after a long, hot bath I felt confused and torn. Torn about what I wanted to do with my future. Torn between two men who evoked very specific yet different feelings in me.

  I cinched the belt of my fluffy terry-cloth robe and padded to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. As tired as I was, sleep seemed a fleeting hope at best.

  I set the kettle on the stove and turned on the flame, then dumped the cocoa mix into my cup. Might as well check out the movie offerings for tonight. My mother always said a watched pot never boiled. No use hanging around the kitchen waiting for the water to get hot.

  As I shuffled into the living room, the red light above my front door flashed, warning me that someone had rung my doorbell. I looked at the clock again. Surely one of my brothers hadn’t come out at this time of night to check on me. I swear. How would I ever get it through their thick skulls that I could take care of myself?

  I opened the door, expecting to launch my well-cited independence tirade but quickly snapped my mouth shut when my gaze landed on Steven Barlow.

  May I come in?

  He still looked like hell, but he’d cleaned up. Wore another of those nice suits like the one I’d admired the first time I’d laid eyes on him. I wondered vaguely if he’d had to attend some sort of meeting, then I remembered there had been a press conference. I didn’t go, Metro still wanted to keep me a secret.

  “Sure. Would you like some hot chocolate?”

  He thought about the question a second too long, but then surprised me with, I’d love it.

  I supposed that guys like him generally got offered a gin and tonic or bourbon and cola. I, Merri Walters, had hot chocolate. Innocent. Naive. Yes, apparently, I was, indeed, both of those things. But not quite as much as I used to be…I’d seen and experienced too much.

  When the hot chocolate steamed from our cups and we’d both taken a seat in my small but comfortable living room, he eventually got around to coming out with what he was doing here at this time of night.

  Chief Kent has asked me if I’d like the chief of Homicide position.

  For the first time in days I felt a genuine smile stretch across my mouth. Finally, something to celebrate. “That’s great! I hope you
accepted.”

  He held up a hand as if to slow my enthusiasm. I did, but there are hoops we have to jump through before it’s official.

  “Wow.” Now, that was true justice. No one in Metro deserved the promotion more than Steven Barlow. I could vouch for that.

  He braced his forearms on his knees and zeroed that piercing blue gaze in on mine. I want you there with me, Merri. We need your kind of keen perception studying these cases. You don’t have to chase down the bad guys or go undercover, just help us with the details. Nobody’s better at that than you. I know Chief Kent already made you the offer, I’m asking you to seriously consider it.

  With sudden clarity I recognized exactly what I wanted to do. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Chief Barlow.” My smile widened to a teasing grin.

  That sexy, lopsided smile claimed his face before he could stop it and he winced at the pain generated by the move.

  My hands flew to my mouth. “That had to hurt.”

  It was worth it. He reached across the table and took my hand. You’re very special, Merri.

  I sighed, but this time it had nothing to do with frustration or exhaustion. It was about satisfaction, a feeling of finally comprehending on a small level what I wanted in life. It suddenly felt very good to be me. “I’m still a little confused,” I admitted, laying down the boundaries right off the bat. “I need to go slow with this personal stuff…sort out my feelings.”

  He searched my eyes. I saw understanding in his. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.

  We lapsed into silence and drank our chocolate and I was okay with that. I could live with the silence. In fact, I can do most anything I choose.

  Just watch me.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6201-4

  SILENT WEAPON

  Copyright © 2005 by Debra Webb

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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  Debra Webb, Silent Weapon

 

 

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