Morgan Hayes - Falling For Him

The morning sunshine highlighted her hair, and he thought of angels. The imagery struck him as ironic, especially considering the fact that Claudia Parrish was as likely a suspect as anyone in the ongoing corruption within the Homicide Unit. After all, the evidence tampering hadn’t ended when her partner’s life had. And the most recent involved one of Claudia’s own cases.

Gavin hadn’t been surprised to learn of Judge Warner’s dismissal of the Brown case. Reports of the missing gun were in the file his lieutenant had handed him weeks ago—a thick file that made Claudia Internal Affair’s prime suspect.

After five years on IAD, he prided himself on his ability to read people. Claudia Parrish, however, wasn’t easy to read. Either her defensiveness was an honest response, or there was more behind the sharp tone she’d adopted with him earlier.

He definitely had to be careful. He couldn’t afford to alienate Claudia. Not when he needed to get close to her—close enough to find out the truth.

Dear Reader,

My ongoing research with Baltimore’s Homicide Unit rarely offers a dull moment. Not only does it provide a constant source of ideas for stories, but these determined and dedicated detectives are inspiring models for the kinds of strong and intriguing characters that inhabit the pages of the books I love to write.

In creating Falling for Him, I wanted to represent these admirable men and women of the Baltimore Police Department as the everyday heroes they are, working exhausting shifts and dealing with aspects of life we can only imagine. I’ve seen the toll that such a job can sometimes take on an individual and the way detectives’ work often wears at their spirit and their personal lives. With that in mind, I created Detectives Claudia Parrish and Gavin Monaghan—both with their own strengths and weaknesses, both with the same drive and perseverance in their quest for what they believe in, in their jobs and in their hearts. I hope that the courage and integrity of each and every one of the Unit’s members has been captured in Claudia and Gavin’s story, as well as that enduring sense of hope and love we all need to embrace.

Sincerely,

Morgan Hayes

HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

632—PREMONITIONS

722—SEE NO EVIL

773—DECEPTION

Falling for Him

Morgan Hayes

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Lynette.

Also…

To The Hutch—I’d be lost without you gals!

To Jackie Navin and the rest of my stunning critique group.

And with very heartfelt thanks to Sgt. Steve Lehmann of BPD Homicide—a real hero.

And to the rest of the guys on the Unit: Mike, Cliff, Bill, Homer, Wayne, Joe and too many others to mention. You know I love you guys!

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

CLAUDIA KNEW HE WAS DEAD even before she’d brought her car to a skidding stop along that cold, dark street. She knew the second she heard the Federal Hill address crackle over the police radio. Her mind refused to grasp the idea, but in her heart, through her entire body, she felt it, as surely as if a part of herself had died.

The ambulance, the half-dozen squad cars with their revolving lights, and then the crime-scene van parked outside the two-story row house confirmed her fears.

Frank was dead.

Claudia leaped from the car, hardly registering the sharp pellets of icy rain slapping her face as she made her way through an already gathering crowd and ducked under the yellow crime-scene tape.

“Detective Claudia Parrish,” she said, giving the officer barely a second to acknowledge the silver shield she flashed, before mounting the front steps two at a time.

The stairwell seemed tighter than usual, hot, with a cloying mustiness that she didn’t recall in all the times she’d been up here. She was out of breath before she reached the top-floor apartment, but it wasn’t the two flights that had winded her. It was shock. It closed around her chest like a fist, clenching steadily until she thought each gasp might be her last.

Frank.

Even the entrance of the apartment didn’t seem right—it felt cramped and narrow. The splintered door, half-off its hinges, displayed the force that had been used to gain entrance.

The world tilted briefly, and she lifted her hand, about to catch herself against the ruined doorjamb. But she stopped. This was a crime scene. Instead, she buried her hands deep in the pockets of her trench coat. Not that it mattered—they would find her prints all over the apartment anyway.

“Detective Parrish,” she heard one officer say. Surprise lifted his tone as she stepped past him and several other uniformed officers.

“Come on, guys. Clear out.” She recognized Sergeant Gunning’s growling voice from farther back in the apartment. “It’s getting crowded in here. Everyone out except the techs, all right? Now.”

She moved through the apartment, each stride shakier than the last, until she drew near the open bedroom door. Frank’s bedroom.

He was dead. But she still expected to hear his voice above the others, analyzing the scene—after all, he was the squad’s best.

There was the bright flare of a camera’s bulb, the high-pitched whine of its recharge, and then another flash. Sergeant Gunning’s hulking figure filled the doorway, his head bowed and shaking in disbelief.

I shouldn’t have left you last night, Frank. The thought tumbled through her mind, over and over. I should have been listening instead of arguing. Instead of accusing. I should have believed you. Should have trusted you.

She stopped in the doorway, her gaze involuntarily drawn past the crime-scene technicians to the corner beside the bed. She caught a glimpse of his white leather sneakers, and the first wave of nausea churned in her stomach.

She must have gasped, because Sergeant Gunning turned to face her.

“Oh, damn. Claudia. What are you doing here?”

“I heard…on the radio…” Her sergeant’s exclamation alerted the others of her presence. They parted. And then Claudia saw him.

She took one unsteady step forward. Sergeant Gunning’s hand settled on her shoulder for a brief moment, as if intending to hold her back. But he didn’t.

“Frank.” His name didn’t echo only in her thoughts. Claudia heard her own voice, thin and wavering, fill the sudden silence. Her breath shortened, and her heart raced as she took in the scene.

Nothing, not ten years in uniform and another two in Homicide, could have prepared Claudia for seeing her own partner sprawled across the carpeted floor.

Even as she stood over his body, she expected him to move. It couldn’t be Frank’s lifeless body lying there, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt…the Baltimore Ravens T-shirt she’d bought him just last month. But it was. Claudia choked back a sob and struggled against another rush of queasiness. She tried to focus, process this like any other crime scene.

Detach. Put your emotions aside. Think like a detective, Frank would have advised her.

Claudia scanned the room. There was no indication of a struggle. The bed was made with Frank’s suit laid on it for work. His pager and cell phone were on the dresser, and his shoulder holster hung over the back of the chair next to it. Empty. The 9mm police-issue Glock was in Frank’s hand instead.