Dash of Peril

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

HER FATHER’S CAR was in Dan’s driveway when they reached the house. Margo stared at it, her heart swelling like a melon to lodge in her throat.

But by God, she would do her job. “My father is here.”

“Shit.” Since he was driving, Logan made the decision to pass the house and park around the corner.

Were they conspiring together? The thought hurt. Down deep inside where no one could see, she ached so badly....

In the seat behind her, Reese took in her expression and put a hand on her shoulder. “I still think—”

“Stow it, detective.”

Logan sided with Reese. “You know you should—”

“No.” She would not sit this one out. It didn’t matter what Logan and Reese thought. It didn’t even matter what Dash thought.

Dash.

Even thinking of him weighed her down with guilt.

He hadn’t liked staying on the sidelines, but he wasn’t a cop and he had no place in this. Beyond being tangled in her dysfunctional life, which included work and family, he had his own obligations. His own friends, family, house, business... And so she’d convinced him to go home.

But it had been a concession under duress.

He loved her.

It was going to take time to wrap her mind around that, if in fact he still felt the same way after all the dust settled. That could be days, even weeks.

She was going to be very, very busy for a while.

Not really sneaking, but definitely being unobtrusive, they went together up the street to Dan’s house. Clouds crawled over the sun, making the late afternoon feel more like early evening. A slight breeze stirred the air, ramping up her anxiety.

Wearing a mask of inscrutable nonchalance, she hid the discomfort in her arm, ignored the pain in her jaw from Toby’s slap, and the worse pain in her soul from her father’s deceit.

Reese led the way up the walk to the front door—but then he held up a hand. When Reese drew his weapon, both she and Logan did the same.

Normally, she wouldn’t be armed now, not after shooting Toby. It was protocol for an officer to hand over his firearm under those circumstances. If she’d waited any time at all, she knew she’d be put on leave with all the restrictions applied to an officer shooting.

That’s why she’d insisted on dealing with this right now.

From inside Dan’s house, they could all hear her father’s booming, enraged voice.

Reese sent her a look of inquiry, and she nodded. He tried the doorknob and to their surprise it turned.

As they stepped in, they also heard West speaking. If anything, his quieter voice only sounded more furious than her father’s. Knowing he was there as well sent acid down her throat and into her stomach.

Dan shouted, “It was necessary, God damn you! What would you have me do? Go down for fucking a hooker?”

“Ex-hooker,” West insisted, “and Margo didn’t know anything about your involvement!”

“She was still snooping. She was going to—”

The sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a moan, led them to the kitchen. A chair fell. A cup broke.

They stepped into the doorway to see West trying to pull the senior Peterson off Dan Ford.

“I’ll fucking kill you myself!”

West said, “Dad, damn it, stand down.”

Instead, West got shoved back and her father landed another meaty blow on Dan’s chin. “You crossed a fucking line when you went after her.”

“You didn’t rein her in!”

“I warned you to back off.” Jaw clenched, her father wrenched Dan up close. “You should have listened.”

Margo stood there, waiting to see if the pieces would come together. No one noticed them. They were too involved with their melee.

“I tried getting close to her!” Dan defended. “I thought if we were sleeping together—”

Holding Dan by the front of his now bloody shirt, her father slammed his head into the tile floor, silencing him. “She’s smarter than that.” Going nose to nose with the commander, he snarled, “She is my daughter.”

Beside her, Reese shifted, Logan frowned. Their impatience was palpable, but she was too fascinated to interrupt.

“You don’t even like her,” Dan accused.

He hauled up Dan. “She. Is. My. Daughter!” He rattled Dan like a rag doll. “We have our differences, but you actually think I wanted her dead?”

More uncertain now, Dan ran a forearm over his bloody face. “I figured she’d be scared, not dead. It wasn’t personal. It was just a...a solution.”

“I have another solution,” West said, putting a hand on their father’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “You can rot in jail.”

“You aren’t even involved in this,” Dan accused.

“Asshole, she’s my sister,” West said with rank humor. “That makes me involved enough to want a piece of you myself, so don’t push me!”

“All right,” Dan conceded. “I deserved your anger. But you need to calm down now. No one is going to jail.”

Whether it was relief, disbelief, or morbid amusement, Margo couldn’t quite say, but she laughed.

Three faces jerked around. One badly battered. One enraged. Only West seemed to understand how the proverbial shit had just hit the fan.

And damn it, that made her laugh even more.

Frowning, Reese muttered to Logan, “She’s getting hysterical.”

Logan nudged her. “Get a grip, Lieutenant.”

“Right.” Still chuckling, she wiped her eyes. “A grip.”

West narrowed his gaze on her...and saw her bruised cheek. “Jesus, what now?” He started toward her.

Until Logan stopped him with his raised gun. “That’s far enough.”

“What the hell?”

Reese stood next to Logan—both of them defending her.

Doing what, until now, her family hadn’t done.

Grinning, Margo stepped between them. “Looks like you’re complicit, West.” She tsked. “When exactly did you plan to report him?”

Not in the least intimidated, West crossed his arms. “Soon as Dad finished handing his ass to him, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“What? You thought a few punches would cover it?” He chided her with a shake of his head, saying softly, “No. He’s going down. I’ll see to it.”

“Now that everyone is calmer...” Logan holstered his weapon and stepped forward. “Sorry, Mr. Peterson, but you’ll have to turn him loose.”

“I’ll call it in,” Reese said.

Her father still looked...flummoxed. On his knees, a mitt-sized hand twisted in Dan’s shirt, he held the commander suspended above the floor and stared at her. “You’re here.”

“Alive and well.”

Having trouble taking it in, he visually searched her over, stopping on her bruised cheek. “Another skirmish?”

Refusing to be drawn in by false concern, she smirked. “Call the mayor,” she told Reese. “I have a feeling he’ll want to know about this first thing.”

Dan protested—until her father dropped him hard to the floor.

Like a turbulent thundercloud, her father jabbed a meaty finger toward Dan. “He opened your bathroom window! The fucker even hired that little shit to come to your house and...” He gulped. Hard. And his voice lost some of the rage, the anger replaced by something else, something that choked him. “He was to burn your house down.”

“I didn’t think she’d be there,” Dan protested.

Eyes narrowing, her father turned and kicked him in the chest, knocking him flat again, his rage again taking over. “That is not a fucking excuse!”

Reese stepped up and, wrapping both arms around the thicker, older man, pinned his elbows down and immobilized him. Her father jerked, trying to shrug him off, but it had no discernible effect on Reese, who said calmly, “Bring it down a notch, Mr. Peterson.”

Wow, that impressed Margo. True, Reese was a behemoth, but still. Her father was a bear of a man.

With him contained, she came forward. “That bothers you, Dad? That I might have been cinders?”

He stopped fighting Reese to face her. “What the hell do you think? That I’d want my own daughter hurt? Dead?”

“I have to admit,” West said, “there were a few times I wondered.”

All the fight went out of him. He looked away, his jaw working.

Cautiously, Reese let him go.

He stood there while Logan cuffed Dan. When he finished he said, “You, too, sir.”

Still staring at her, her father paid little attention while Logan caught first one wrist, then the other, to fasten the handcuffs. “Margo?”

She felt remarkably like a little girl again, sitting in the kitchen chair with the obscene sound of the clippers buzzing over her head.

That damned squeezing sensation returned to her throat. “You have disliked me a great deal, Dad.”

“No.” He seemed to realize what Logan had just done and while it disgusted him, he didn’t fight. “I was furious over things you did, but...” His brows came down so heavily he looked ready to attack again. “You actually think I’d want you hurt?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t care.” She’d been hurt—and he’d only criticized her.

He breathed harder. “You think I’d let someone like Dan get away with that?”

“What difference does it make if it’s Dan?”

For the first time that she could ever recall, her father looked defeated. Not enraged, not bullying, not self-righteous or in control. “I would never—”

“Dad, please.” She refused to be drawn in. Before Dash...maybe. But Dash had given her new perspectives and, though she only just now really realized it, new self-worth. “I was ambushed and almost killed in that car wreck, and you acted like it was my fault.”

“I want you to always be careful so shit like that doesn’t happen! I raised you to be alert so you would survive, not so some asshole like Dan could...” He took one heavy step toward her. “Damn it, Margo, what was I supposed to say? Should I have cried over you? Babied you?”

Yes, she wanted to reply, you could have shown an emotion other than disdain. But instead she just shook her head. What could she say? That it would have been nice if he’d cared just a little? No, she wouldn’t.

Her daddy hadn’t raised that kind of woman.

She put up her chin. “What made you think it was Dan?”

At the mention of the other man, his eyes went flinty again. “The prick was forever insulting you, worrying that you’d come back and start investigating again. That you’d find out he was involved.”

That sent her left eyebrow high. “Is that why his wife left him?”

“Yeah. That and he’s a hound for porn. She found out, but he bought her off, gave her whatever she wanted in the divorce to keep her trap shut.”

So respectful of the scorned wife, Margo thought.

West nodded. “It’s true. Dad came to me and said he suspected Dan. I rode along with him to keep everything right and tight, but...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, shit went south when Dan was so cavalier about it.”

“He expected me to understand,” her dad said with another evil glare for Dan. “He wanted me to cover his ass if anyone questioned him.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Logan said. “It’s all out in the open.”

Reese looked at West. “Unless you have any confessions you’d like to make?”

“Not me, no.” West let his arms drop. “Not about that, anyway. Other stuff but...” He shook his head. “But Margo and I already cleared the air on that. At least, I hope we did.” He watched her, waiting for confirmation.

Margo wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. “There will be another investigation, and your name will come up.”

Dead serious, he told her, “It’s not a problem.”

Meaning he truly wasn’t involved? God, she hoped that was true.

West waited. “Now, about us?”

She believed him, and relief flooded her system, making her so damned tired. “We’ll work on it.”

That seemed to be the permission he needed and he strode forward, lifting her chin and examining her face. “Are you all right?”

Suspect as it might be, his concern still felt nice. “I’m fine.” Sirens sounded out front.

West put his arm around her. “You ready for this, sis? It’s going to be far uglier than the first investigation.”

“Regrets already?”

“No.” He gave her a one-arm hug. “I just want you to know that this time you won’t be alone. I’m here and I’ll support you any way I can.”

His show of affection got interrupted with a ringing phone. Logan pulled out his cell and, with Dan and her father both cuffed, leaned against the counter to answer. Margo watched him, saw the way he tightened, and blew out an impatient breath.

What now?

As soon as he ended the call Logan strode over to her, took her arm and moved her away from West. “That was Karen Ford.”

“Dan’s ex-wife?”

He nodded. “When Dan denied using his parents’ house, I asked Karen about it. I know they’re divorced, but they still share a social circle. Karen was more than happy to turn him out. She said he’s had multiple parties there, almost every weekend since he got the place. Their friends have talked about it, a few with praise, others saying he’s off the deep end.”

Smiling, Margo looked over at Dan. He sat on the floor, his face bloodied, his shirt torn. A defeated man.

Reese joined them, but only to hand over his phone. “The mayor’s on the line.” He leaned closer. “I told him all of it, and he wants to talk to you now, before you talk to anyone else.”

Please, she thought, not another attempt at a cover-up.

But as she walked into the other room to speak privately, she discovered that the mayor’s idea of damage control wasn’t to hide anything. Nope, he wanted it all handled by the book, resolved once and for all, and for that he wanted her counsel. She almost wanted to crawl through the phone and kiss him for his honor.

Given her personal involvement, Margo knew she couldn’t be in charge of the investigation. Logan was out, too. Thanks to her relationship with Dash, who had also been threatened, Logan would be too close. It was an easy decision to hand the duty off to Reese. But she didn’t delude herself; she and Logan would both be in the thick of it. At least this way they had some checks and balances in place.

To complicate her life more, the mayor assigned her as temporary commander until further notice.

Since reconnecting with Dash, her life had been upside down, sideways and confusing as hell. And things had just gotten worse. Whether or not Dash actually loved her, she supposed she’d find out later. It was going to take her at least a few days to get things settled.

For now, she’d have to put him—and her entire personal life—on the back burner.

Duty called.

A LONG BATH hadn’t relaxed her, not enough. Dressed in jeans and one of Dash’s T-shirts that he’d left behind, she took her Coke and settled on the couch with Oliver.

So many decisions to make.

As she was thinking it, first her cell phone rang, and then her landline. Margo huddled deeper into her couch, her face hidden in a throw pillow. Seven days had gone by—an entire week—and she still hadn’t seen Dash. With each day that passed, any relationship with him seemed more improbable.

They’d talked that first day, and he’d again said he loved her. But she’d just found out that maybe, just maybe, her father, in his own way, loved her, too.

Knowing it left her...strangely empty. Maybe because, after everything, she couldn’t trust in his caring.

Now West...for the first time he was totally backing her, even going so far as to give information from the first investigation. He’d even joined Dan’s ex in verifying Dan had, in fact, been to his parents’ house multiple times. West swore he never saw any drugs or pornos, but his visits had been during the day, not for parties.

They’d talked to other visitors who verified that. Most who admitted to seeing the porn swore they thought it was just that: cheap entertainment, not abduction and rape.

She was so relieved that West wasn’t mired in any of the mess. But could they actually repair their relationship? She didn’t really trust in that possibility, either.

For certain her mother was thoroughly disgusted with all of it. No reason to even wonder about that. But then, her mother had been cold and unfeeling for years. Margo suspected that had more to do with an unhappy marriage than any real animus toward her children.

Margo dropped the pillow and groaned. Oliver, being sympathetic, pressed against her and purred. She stroked him while trying to order her thoughts. Sooner or later she had to see Dash. She had to learn whether or not he really did love her, or if he’d just been caught up in the moment. She wanted to believe him. God, how she wanted to.

But what did she know of love?

Nada. Zip.

She was so confused. And maybe even a little needy. And that was uncomfortable enough to completely throw her off her game.

Disgusted, she put her head back and squeezed her eyes shut.

For most of her life her parents hadn’t understood her, her brother had been annoyed by her, her officers resented her.

Her commander wanted her dead.

Dan Ford—the man who had initiated the corruption at the station, the official who had first drawn in the ex-hookers, forcing them to play or face possible trumped-up prosecution.

A man who had actually enjoyed watching women be victimized by a trio of psychos.

She was a strong person, she knew that.

But she was now officially overwhelmed.

If she met with Dash, what then? Even if he still wanted her, even if he wanted to continue their relationship, she couldn’t help thinking...what if he didn’t love her?

Lacking any real time off to help it heal, her elbow ached, especially when she tried to sleep. But it was nothing compared to the dark of night turmoil that plagued her head, or the hollowness that invaded her heart when she should have been resting.

With Toby dead and Curtis separated from Saul, Saul fell apart like a frightened child. He gave them everything they needed to fully prosecute Curtis: addresses, names, location of evidence. Saul’s testimony wouldn’t save him, but it could spare him a possible death sentence. For a cowardly little worm like Saul, a life sentence would be worse than death anyway.

Earlier that day she’d met with Tipton and Yvette again. Because of the memories, the resurgent fears, Yvette wasn’t sleeping well. Margo had wanted to talk with her about the upcoming trials, to help her understand what would be happening. But the girl seemed doubly shamed when around her, so she’d reluctantly handed off that duty to Logan.

She wanted Dash. She needed him. And that was such an untenable sensation that she automatically balked, fighting it, and in the process made herself more despondent—which was also a terrible feeling.

“What am I going to do?” she asked Oliver.

When the knock sounded on her door, she nearly jumped a foot. It was well after work hours, already dark outside.

Could it be Dash?

Her heart launched into her throat, then dropped to her feet. If Dash demanded that she let him in, he could take the decision for a confrontation away from her. She bit her lip.

Did she want that?

Rowdy’s voice came through the closed door. “Open up, Margo. I know you’re in there.”

Extreme disappointment had her squeezing her eyes shut. It took several deep breaths before she got herself together, then she called, “Coming.”

Working up to her everything-is-fine face, Margo sat the cat aside, straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair and went to the door. She opened with an absurd show of welcome. “Hey, Rowdy. Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Cannon is covering for me.” With a smile of sympathy, Rowdy pushed his way in, checking her out from head to toes. He tweaked a curl. “Lookin’ a little worse for wear, aren’t you?”

She should have known she couldn’t fool him. Turning away, she dropped back into her seat on the couch. “I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, so?” Standing right in front of her, he folded his muscular arms over his chest. “You’ve been exhausted before.”

Physically, sure. But never so emotionally beat. “What do you want?”

For the longest time he continued to stand there, dissecting her, until finally he dropped down beside her—so close that their thighs touched. “I want to talk about you being single.”

Her stomach sort of bottomed out. Before Rowdy had married Avery, she’d have been flattered. Before Dash, she might have even been tempted. But now...

Summoning up her most stern and direct stare, she looked into his eyes and said, “This isn’t happening.”

“Yeah.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “It is.” And then with a grin he said, “But get your mind out of the gutter because it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“No?” Her eyebrow went up. “Then what is it?”

“A long overdue lecture.”

Oh, hell no. “Thanks, but no th—” She got her ass two inches off the couch before he pulled her right back, almost into his lap!

“A lecture that’s coming from me for several reasons.” Anchoring her to his side, his muscled arm keeping her immobile, glued to his scrumptious body, he said, “First, Avery insisted I come over. She literally shoved me out the door.”

Margo snorted.

“The woman thinks I walk on water. I don’t understand it, but—”

“Rowdy.”

He smiled. “Secondly, I had a shit childhood. You maybe know that. Maybe not. I’m not going into detail, but understand that it was pretty bad.”

She rolled in her lips and dared a look at him. So close that she could count the eyelashes on his beautiful eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too. Thing is, I think you know something about that. For you it wasn’t the same. You had a house and clothes and...parents. But it wasn’t fun for you, either. It wasn’t the way it should have been.”

She definitely couldn’t compare herself to Rowdy’s background. “I don’t see how—”

“When I couldn’t smother away the bad memories, I tried to fuck them away.”

Well...there was a confession. More attentive, she listened.

“For the most part, I was successful. Screwing was the best way I knew to block a bad memory. I could so easily lose myself in a woman.”

Just as she lost herself in Dash. “Rowdy...”

He pressed a finger to her lips and continued. “A nice lady or a bitch. A beauty or just some gal who was willing. Didn’t matter if I liked her or not because all I wanted was a lay.”

She removed his hand. “A quick lay?”

His smile went cocky. “Can’t really block heavy-duty nightmares with a quickie, now can I? But the point is that I used women.”

She wasn’t exactly surprised. Rowdy’s sexuality was a blatant part of him, pretty much up front and in your face. “I doubt the ladies complained over that.”

Grin widening, he shrugged. “Mostly they just complained when it ended. But my point—because I do have one—is that you and I are kindred spirits.”

Fearing he might be right, she tried to joke her way around his understanding. “Actually, I’m not into women.”

“No, I have a feeling you’re into something altogether different. Not entirely about sex, but maybe more about losing the responsibility for a while.”

Her blood surged and her eyes narrowed. “Did Dash talk to you?”

Pitying her, Rowdy shook his head. “You know better—and it’d piss Dash off to know you even suggested such a thing.”

Blowing out a breath, Margo dropped her head back onto his thick biceps. It felt kind of nice—comforting, warm, safe—to be held by Rowdy Yates. She could see why his sister, Reese’s wife and Rowdy’s wife had all so easily fallen under his protective umbrella.

But she was different. For her entire life she hadn’t needed anyone. No way was she ready to give up that persona. Not yet.

Not with Rowdy.

She turned her head. “So what are you saying?”

“My life changed so much for the better when I met Avery. I would never do anything to hurt her. I love her. More than life. More than I even knew was possible.”

“You still have nightmares?”

“Sometimes. The shit I remember...it’s a part of me, so I doubt it’ll ever go away. But to deal with it, all I need is Avery, not some string of nameless women.”

Knowing where he was going with this, she shook her head. “And you think all I need is Dash?”

His expression gentled and he tightened his hold. “I think for a badass cop who wallows in taking control with an iron fist, at heart you’re a coward.”

That awful accusation hit her like a slap. Stunned, and then infuriated, she said, “I’m not—”

“And,” Rowdy emphasized, cutting her off, “if you’re not a coward, if I’m somehow wrong—or if I’m right and you want to correct things—then you’ll go and talk to Dash.”

She prepared to lambaste him. God knew he had it coming. She even had her mouth open to do just that.

But Rowdy watched her, his brows pinched with the seriousness of his claim, waiting to see if she’d own up, or deny it...like a coward.

“Damn.”

The stern expression eased. He even smiled. She saw it in his eyes, how he expected her to man up and accept it. And she did.

“There you go,” he said gently. “There’s that backbone of steel.”

Stupid, lame, crybaby tears blurred her vision.

Rowdy pulled her closer against his hard chest, his hand on the back of her head, his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. He didn’t tell her not to cry. He didn’t tell her everything would be okay.

Rowdy was more honest than that.

“Much as you’re suffering, I can promise you that it’s worse for Dash. He’s fought every instinct known to man to be there for you in whatever way you needed, and still you cut him out.”

Unable to squeeze a single word out for fear it’d be a squeaky, choking sob, she shook her head.

“No?”

She shook her head again. She hadn’t cut him out. Never that. She didn’t even think such a thing was possible. Not talking to him pained her. Not seeing him was worse.

Even during her job, while dealing with the seriousness of a major investigation, he’d been on her mind.

But she had given in to the fear. She’d hidden away.

A coward. A miserable, lowly coward.

It took several deep breaths before she felt confident she could talk without disgracing herself. “What if he doesn’t love me?”

“Know what you should do?” He kissed her forehead. “Go to him. Right now. Ask him outright.”

“Put myself out of my misery?”

His gravelly laugh was a sound more of compassion than humor. “Yeah, something like that.” Then he tipped up her chin.

Margo knew what he saw. She was a terrible crier. Nothing pretty about it.

His smile went crooked. “Aw, hon.” Using his thumb, he brushed away the tears. “I know how you feel, not wanting to put too much stock in love. But I can vouch for the awesomeness of it. All you have to do is trust Dash.”

“I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“You’re a female. You don’t have to say anything. Just go to him, strip off your clothes and lead him to bed. Men are not as complicated as women. Trust me, he’ll get the message.”

She laughed around her uncertainty. “You are so sexist.”

He shrugged. “After you’ve both let off steam and your brains are temporarily blank of the external problems, then you can talk.”

Yes. Yes, that’s what she wanted to do. She put her arms around Rowdy and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”

Unfortunately, that’s precisely when Dash opened her door and stepped in.