When Love Matters Most. Kate James
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took a sip. “I’ll let you be the judge of that. And speaking of...” His words trailed off when Logan rejoined them and handed Madison a glass of wine.
“So, Madison,” Logan began. “You’re from El Paso.”
She wondered how he’d known that. She hadn’t shared much about herself with the cops who came to the clinic. But people talked. Including Heather, the clinic’s receptionist. It occurred to her that being the captain of the unit, he might have done a background check on her when she’d been assigned to take care of the SDPD dogs. She wasn’t sure that was acceptable procedure, but realized it happened.
“And your father is Patrick Long, Supreme Court judge, correct?” he continued.
“That’s right.”
“My father used to be a police chief. He had some dealings with your father concerning matters that had fallen under your father’s jurisdiction. He held him in high regard,” Logan added.
That answered her question about how he’d known where she was from.
Rick let out a low whistle. “Your father’s a judge?”
Madison nodded. A lot of men were intimidated by what her father did for a living. She expected a cop wouldn’t be, but you never knew.
“Impressive,” was Rick’s reply.
He didn’t seem daunted. That was positive—and refreshing.
“With your family in El Paso, what brought you to our fair city?” Logan asked.
She was a private person, but one thing she didn’t mind talking about was the reason she’d moved to San Diego—her research. Still, it was a hefty subject to get into, and she had a tendency to bore people with it. Rick must have picked up on her hesitation, because he interjected smoothly. “C’mon, Jagger. Save the interrogation for business hours.”
Logan didn’t seem disturbed in the least. Madison sensed there was more than a professional relationship between these two cops based on the way they bantered back and forth; they were friends, too.
“You’ve got a point.” He smiled at Madison. “I didn’t mean to pry. I’m glad Rick brought you, and I hope you enjoy yourself.”
Logan excused himself to play host to his guests, and soon he started preparing dinner. Madison knew he wasn’t married and she surmised he didn’t have a date. She did, however, see exactly how attentive and smooth he was with his female guests.
She watched him with amusement. He manned the barbecue expertly while carrying on a conversation with one of the women. Suddenly Madison was distracted by a disturbance she caught in her peripheral vision. “No. Oh, no!” she whispered.
Rick, who’d been chatting with one of his colleagues, turned to her with a questioning look. She shifted her gaze back to Logan and the barbecue just as one of the dogs, Sawyer, with a near-effortless leap, snagged a steak right off the grill. Boomer, not far behind, started to bark furiously, getting everyone’s attention. Logan, closest to Sawyer, gave him an “Out!” command, to no effect. He tried again, but Sawyer ignored him, and cavorted with the piece of meat dangling from his mouth.
“Jackson!” Logan bellowed for the officer who must have been Sawyer’s handler. “Get your dog under control and get that piece of rib eye away from him.”
Jackson rushed over, but it was obvious he was having a hard time containing his hilarity, which only incited Sawyer, who proceeded to engage in a spirited game of chase with his handler. Boomer joined in, until Logan ordered him down, and he dropped where he was.
Madison tried not to laugh, watching Sawyer frolic around the yard. When the dog pranced in front of Brody, still sitting in the corner by himself, her eyes connected with his. Even from a distance, she could see something disconcerting in their depths. Her smile dimmed and she quickly looked away.
“Should we worry about your cooking, Jagger?” someone called out, drawing her attention back to the dog’s antics. “Sawyer’s a cadaver dog. He usually goes after rotting things!” There was another ripple of good-natured laughter as Sawyer continued to elude his handler, the steak hanging from his mouth. Another cop made a grab for the meat but ended up sprawled on the grass with only a piece of gristle that had torn loose in his hand to show for his effort.
By the time Jackson finally got hold of Sawyer, he was red-faced both from exertion and embarrassment. Everyone laughed uproariously at his expense. Jackson did his best, without success, to get the dog to release his prize.
“Might as well let him have it now,” Logan suggested. “No one’s going to want to eat that steak.”
“Sorry, Jagger,” Jackson said self-consciously. “Can I put Sawyer in Boomer’s kennel for a time-out?”
“Sure.” Logan pointed to the side yard. “But since I only had enough steak for my two-legged guests, you, my friend, are going to be eating a hot dog.”
That made all the cops laugh even harder. A few catcalls could also be heard. Madison couldn’t help laughing along with everyone else.
Rick excused himself, explaining that he’d been involved in Sawyer’s training and wanted to check on the dog and his handler, and loped after Jackson and his dog.
“Enjoying yourself?” Madison heard a slurred voice by her ear and was assailed by the scent of sour breath. She stepped back. It was Brody. He must have left his perch after they’d made eye contact. She took another step back.
“Yes, I am. Thank you.”
She was about to walk away, but Brody grasped her upper arm with a clammy hand. “Where you going?” he asked.
There was no doubt in Madison’s mind that he’d had too much to drink. She wondered how he could get away with it at a party with a bunch of cops, including his boss. Then she realized that the whole time she’d been there, she hadn’t seen him talk to a single person other than her when Rick had introduced them. Whenever she’d noticed him, he’d been sitting by himself in the same spot at the far end of the yard, drinking beer. She looked down to where he held her arm, hoping he’d get the hint and back off. When that didn’t work, she tried to pull free, only to feel his grip tighten on her biceps. He had more strength than she would’ve given him credit for. She wasn’t worried, though, not with a yard full of cops, but she was annoyed and uncomfortable. She didn’t want to cause a scene.
“Look,” she began. Before she could say more, the hand was off her arm, and a flailing Brody landed on his backside on the grass, the bottle of beer spilling on the soft ground.
Madison rubbed her upper arm where Brody’s fingers had been digging, trying to ease the dull ache. For a second time, everyone stopped to look at the commotion. This time she wasn’t on the periphery but central to the incident.
Rick towered over Brody, a menacing look on his face. He extended a hand. “Gotta be more careful there, Brody. Uneven ground here,” he said, speaking loudly enough that anyone who was paying attention could hear. She was grateful that Rick was trying to defuse the situation to avoid causing a scene. But Madison was closest and heard him continue in an undertone as he helped the other man up, “Touch her like that again, and you and I are going to have a problem.”
Madison glanced around quickly to see if anyone else had heard, but it seemed that they’d all gone back to what they’d been doing. Except Logan. The charm was gone as he watched the interplay with narrowed eyes. He obviously knew there was more to the incident than Rick had let on.
Brody grumbled something under his breath, then dusted off his jeans and moved away. She assumed he’d gone home, because she didn’t see him again the rest of the evening. A couple of people mentioned that they’d seen him get into a cab. A smart move, in her opinion.
She saw Rick and Logan huddled together shortly after the incident, with long faces and intent eyes. She was certain it had to do with what had happened with Brody, but when Rick returned, he was all