Kylie Brant - An Irresistible Man

“Very scenic,” she drawled. “I guess this means we’re skipping lunch.”

A grunt was her only answer as he wadded up the map and shoved it beneath the seat again. As he began backtracking, Madeline said mildly, “One thing you need to learn about me, Martinez.” She paused a heartbeat. “I’m never wrong.”

He spared her barely a glance. “One of your most endearing qualities, I’m sure.”

She allowed herself a tiny smile. He sounded positively ill-humored, and something told her that that was rare for him.

Once back at Cruz’s desk, they planned the next step of their strategy. “You’re going to talk to Ritter about going to the D.A., right?” she asked.

“First thing in the morning,” he promised. “And I’ll let Ryan know what went on today. My cases were reassigned to him. He may want to follow a possible link between Stover and the drive-by shootings. In the meantime, since we followed your hunch today, tomorrow we’ll follow mine.”

Madeline eyed him curiously. “Which is?”

“Ramsey Elliot is due to be released from the hospital soon. Since he was the first of the Lords to be shot, I think we need to concentrate on him, and on the rest of the gang, to see if we can get a feel for which way they’re beaded.”

“They’ll retaliate.”

Cruz nodded at her statement. “I’d be surprised if they didn’t. And I’d love to know if they’ve already gotten their hands on the weapon of choice, or whether they’re currently dealing on one.”

“If they haven’t gotten it yet, we may be in time to track down the supplier as they deal on one,” Madeline said hopefully.

Cruz raised his eyebrows. “Wishful thinking, I’m afraid, Maddy, my girl.”

“Do not-”

“Call you Maddy,” he finished in unison with her.

She glared at him, but the look of amusement on that handsome bronze face was hard to resist. “Martinez, I have the feeling that you are one hell of a pest.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “And I have the feeling that you are one hell of a…”

“Yes?” she prompted when he didn’t finish.

Distraction . But perhaps it wouldn’t be wise for him to admit that to her. Instead he improvised. “Detective.” He finished the sentence. “Especially if your sense for police work is as good as your sense of direction.”

They made arrangements to meet the next day, and Madeline left. Other than the incident with Baker, she had little to put in her report to Brewer. And of course her boss already knew about the Internal Affairs investigation that had cleared Baker of any wrongdoing. No doubt the incident was another reason Martinez was under suspicion right now. Aside from the fact that he had been one of the five detectives investigating a crime related to the AK-47s, he also had reason to be carrying a major grudge against the department. To outward appearances, that didn’t seem to be the case, of course. He had continued his work, had even started moving up the ranks of officer. But she couldn’t shake her uneasiness as she remembered Cruz’s abrupt switch of moods when dealing with the other man.

How deep did his animosity toward Baker run? Deep enough to include the department because they’d sided with him? One thing she’d learned about Martinez today-he had a ruthless streak that she never would have suspected. She still wondered how deep that streak ran.

And whether he was ruthless enough to be involved in trading lives for cash.

Madeline left her car in the long circular driveway in front of her father’s house. As she approached the luxurious brick home she didn’t even notice the flawlessly manicured lawn and neatly trimmed shrubs. Perfection was something Geoffrey Casey demanded; he would accept nothing less. She let herself in the front door and headed to the study.

As expected, she found him seated behind his walnut desk in the darkly paneled room. She crossed the plush Oriental carpet, and he rose, looking pointedly at his watch. From long experience Madeline ignored his silent disapproval. She knew she was on time for dinner, just as she was aware that he liked to enjoy a leisurely cocktail a half hour prior to dining. It was her custom to skip that part of the evening if she could.

“Father,” she murmured, kissing his cheek perfunctorily. “How have you been?”

“Busy, as usual. You’re looking well, Madeline. It’s a shame we can’t manage to see each other more often than our monthly dinners.”

Mentally disagreeing, she said, “Well, with our schedules, I guess we’ll have to take what we can get.”

“You’re too late to join me for a drink,” he continued. “I’m sure the cook has dinner ready.”

Together they walked to the dining room. Madeline had never been able to understand why her father insisted on dining every night in the coldly elegant room, at a table that could easily seat twelve. But then the thought of him eating in the kitchen, or anywhere less formal than one of his many clubs, was equally incongruous. Geoffrey Casey was one of those people whom Madeline couldn’t imagine doing any of a number of routine things in the course of a day.

They made small talk as the cook entered the room wheeling a cart. She began removing the steaming dishes from it and setting them on the table. Geoffrey abruptly fell into silence at her arrival, but Madeline smiled warmly at the woman serving them.

“Jenny, everything smells wonderful, as usual.”

The short, dark-haired woman threw her a quick smile, never pausing in her work. “You were never a tough one to please, Miss Madeline, but thanks, anyway.”

“How’s Bob?” Madeline inquired solicitously about the woman’s husband.

“Last doctor visit he got a clean bill of health. The doctor said there’s a little permanent damage to his heart, but he’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

“Tell him I said hello, and to take care of himself.”

“I’ll do that, miss.” The cook shot a wary glance at Geoffrey, who was eyeing her coldly. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

He waved a hand, dismissing her. “That will be all, Mrs. Parks. We’ll call you if we need anything.” The cook disappeared through the kitchen door. He waited until she was out of earshot before saying disapprovingly, “Really, Madeline, I would think that by now I would no longer have to remind you about engaging in banal conversations with the hired help. You’ve been taught better and it’s most unbecoming for you to treat them as-”

“As human beings?” Madeline finished for him in a tight voice.

He frowned at her interruption. “You know perfectly well what I mean. There’s no need to be disrespectful.”

She mentally began to count to one thousand, striving to hold on to her rapidly escalating temper. She knew from experience that arguing with her father never did any good. He detested what he referred to as emotional outbursts, and she suspected that what he really hated was emotion, period. Every word he uttered was delivered in the same smooth, level tone Anger, joy, frustration-it didn’t matter. His expression rarely altered, his voice never rose.

Where had she come from? Certainly not from this frigidly proper man Nor could she see much resemblance to Lorraine Casey, her mother, who’d been killed in a car accident when Madeline was a teenager. Her mother had been blond and beautiful, as proper and devoid of feeling as her husband. Always concerned with appearances, she’d never made a move without first weighing its possible effect on her husband’s career.

They certainly had gotten more than they bargained for in Madeline. She had been a squalling baby with a shock of red hair and a temper to match. The Caseys must have doubted that they’d been given the correct infant at the hospital. Even worse, a severe case of asthma had made it impossible for her to be packed off to a boarding school, as her brother, Kevin, had been. No, they’d been forced to keep Madeline at home with them, had to deal with her childish chatter and deplorable manners. Almost every word she could remember either parent directing at her when she was growing up was in the form of a command or a reprimand. She would have grown up thinking that hers was a normal family if it hadn’t been for the people hired to run the household, such as Mrs. Parks. The occasional glimpses she’d had into their homes had shown her otherwise.