He glanced at her, his eyes wide. She’d shocked him again. She wondered if he’d expected her to fall apart; if he believed, because her anxiety had resurfaced, that she couldn’t cope at all. It was possible. After all, he’d withheld the truth and hired a PI behind her back. She waited for him to question her, but, without another word, he walked out of the lounge, and a few minutes later returned with her watchdog. David was a burly guy with a baseball cap perched over blond hair and unemotional brown eyes.
She shook his hand and turned away. Though she was grateful for his presence, she was too consumed with the notion of proving to Jake as well as to herself not only that she was strong, but that she was his equal, that she could deal with the Ramirez situation, too. And, in the process, she intended to make sure nothing happened to her fantasy man.
Because when this mess was over, she wanted him alive and well. Not dead on the street. Her stomach churned and dizziness fought its way back, but Brianne, through deep breathing and sheer force of will, managed to stay in control. She’d impressed herself, and a smile fought its way to her lips.
She didn’t have a clue how things with Jake would wind up. She still didn’t know if she could accept the detective and his lifestyle—for herself and forever. Whether he even wanted her beyond this summer was also an open question.
The answers would come, Brianne knew, after Ramirez was out of their lives for good.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EVEN BEFORE Jake left her at the hospital, Brianne realized the only way out of the situation was to face down her fears. Only then would she know if she could handle Jake’s kind of life. Only then would she know if she had the courage to approach him and ask for forever.
An hour after Jake’s departure, Brianne drew a deep breath and walked into Marina Brown’s hospital room. The uniformed cop hadn’t given her a hard time, other than to check her hospital badge against hospital records. Mentioning Jake Lowell’s name hadn’t hurt her cause, either.
“Hello?” Brianne called to the woman curled into a fetal position in the bed.
“Hi.” The girl pushed herself up against the white pillows. “Are you another one of the Social Service people?”
Brianne shook her head. “No. I’m…” She swallowed hard. “My name is Brianne Nelson and I need your help.”
Brianne figured if she heard Marina’s story and discovered how the young woman had gotten drugs from The Eclectic Eatery, perhaps Brianne could attempt to do the same thing herself. It would take some doing, and she’d have to ditch her private investigator, but she’d manage. She’d worked in the hospital for years and knew every back alley and door. She could lose her tail easily. If she could actually get possession of drugs, she could prove the restaurant was the supplier, something Jake said the police had yet to do. After that, the cops could link the restaurant to Ramirez and put him away.
And Brianne would have taken the first step in getting the drug-dealing criminal out of their lives. She didn’t think she was smarter than New York’s finest, she just needed to take back her life and her future. Ramirez had intentionally and nefariously stolen her freedom, while Jake’s behavior—despite the best of intentions—had taken away her control. But between them they had brought back her worst childhood fears. The adult Brianne had to conquer them.
Fifteen minutes later, after an honest exchange with the young woman and a promise to visit tomorrow, Brianne had the general means by which to order drugs from The Eclectic Eatery. She just had no way of knowing which item on the extensive menu was the key. But she’d figure it out.
Brianne rubbed her palms up and down her forearms, then glanced back at the door, behind which the young girl lay with an IV in her arm. She also had a dead boyfriend.
Brianne refused ever to be in that same position. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Jake.
“YOU INVOLVED a goddamned civilian,” Lieutenant Thompson said in a low growl, eyeing Jake with fury in his eyes.
“Not intentionally, sir.” Jake remained standing before his superior, and waited for the smoke to clear and the older man’s anger to blow over.
Thompson’s face reddened and he kicked a metal garbage pail across the room and into the wall. Obviously the storm wouldn’t end anytime soon. Jake didn’t blame Thompson for wanting a piece of him. At the moment, he’d like to rip a piece of his own hide as well—for not leveling with Brianne the minute he’d realized Ramirez was tailing her.
But that was hindsight.
Now he acknowledged that Brianne was the strongest woman he knew. She’d overcome her past and raised her brother, and if she’d experienced a resurgence of any anxiety, she knew how to handle it. She’d proven that to him this morning. But at the time he’d realized Ramirez was watching her, Jake hadn’t known how she would react; keeping her in the dark had seemed the best means of protection.
But he had another reason for remaining silent—one he didn’t like admitting. The truth was that he hadn’t wanted to give Brianne the chance to turn him away. She hadn’t done it yet but she still might. It was something he wasn’t ready to contemplate.
“You questioned a goddamn police witness while officially off duty,” Thompson snarled.
“I didn’t question her, sir. We had a friendly conversation.”
“Friendly, my ass,” he muttered. “And your shoulder?”
“Hurts some.”
“I don’t care how it feels. Is it operational?”
“Close enough.” Jake winced as the lieutenant took another shot at the garbage pail. “Did you ever play soccer, Lieutenant?”
The older man scowled. “I don’t even want to know the reason you held out on me.”
Jake let out a groan and lowered himself into a chair by the desk. He might as well admit to the lieutenant that disillusionment had bit his sorry behind. “Ever since Frank died…” Jake began.