Suzanne Ellison - Blazing Star

Karen wanted to ask how hard he’d looked, but she knew that question would take careful handling. Brick must never suspect she was secretly investigating him—Commander Harmon’s directions had been most specific in that respect. “When we get back to the station, Lieutenant, I’d like to go over the file with you,” she suggested, deciding that the best course of action would be to covertly track down the dental records, then assign the task to Brick to see if he tried to dodge taking the same steps. “Sometimes a new pair of eyes can spot something that you miss when you go over and over the same thing.” Before he could take umbrage, Karen added, “It’s happened to me lots of times.”

Brick nodded without comment, then pointed to a cozy-looking diner near the town square. “This place belongs to Marge Peterson. It’s where Tyler cops eat on their breaks and hang out when they’re off duty.”

“In that case, it would probably be a good place to stop for lunch,” said Karen, who was getting hungry. She also wanted to see her men in a different atmosphere than the station house. She knew it wouldn’t be possible for her to be accepted as “one of the guys,” but she still might gain some valuable insights about her officers and their town.

“Is that an order, Captain?” Brick didn’t sound angry this time, just unsure.

“It’s an invitation, Lieutenant. My treat. Good heavens, I never had to explain it when I said the same thing to my partner.”

She’d intended the words as a cheerful pleasantry, but for some reason Brick’s tone was jarringly cool as he muttered, “I guess now’s as good a time as any,” and parked the car.

Karen was sorry to see that he was glowering again, just when she’d hoped they were making genuine progress. It was an old story, but sometimes it really wore her down. How many times in her career had she run up against professional hostility from men? How many times had they opposed her openly or sabotaged her career behind her back? Her file was bulging with undocumented petty complaints by misogynist fellow cops. She didn’t know why she’d ever hoped she could expect better from Brick Bauer.

“Sometimes I think you forget that I’m a police officer, too, Bauer,” she said bitterly. “I’m really not so different from the rest of you.”

“Captain, you convinced me you were a real cop the first night we met,” Brick snapped. “You didn’t even have to show me your badge. You just dumped me on my head.” He studied her gravely. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might be working overtime trying to prove yourself?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Karen asked defensively. “I’ve taken over a substation where not one man likes me or trusts me. Every damn one of them would like to see my backside hightailing it out of town so you could take my place. I have nightmares about waking up with you standing over my bed with a knife!” She hadn’t meant to confess that, not to Brick, not to anyone. But the words were out, and now all she could say was, “I’m in an armed camp, alone against the enemy. In my position, don’t you think you’d be guarding your flanks, too?”

His square jaw jutted out as he faced her. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

Warily Karen answered, “Of course.”

“You’re right that the men don’t trust you. They think you’re mean as hell. But you’re missing the whole picture of the Tyler substation if you think you’re surrounded by the enemy. You haven’t yet managed to destroy the camaraderie that makes being a cop in Tyler something special, and at bedrock, you’re still an officer, still part of us. We’re sworn to protect the public, and by God, we’re sworn to protect each other, too. The men may joke about you in the locker room and curse each time they hold one of your stupid memos in their hands, but if you ever have to draw your weapon in the line of duty, Captain, there’s not a man on the force who wouldn’t lay down his life for you.” Before she could respond, he finished, “What hurts us all is that we don’t think you’d do the same for any one of us.”

Karen wasn’t sure how to answer that. She was touched and wounded, honored and crushed. Clumsily she said, “I’m good with a gun, Bauer. If I thought I could save a fellow officer’s life, I’d use it without reservation.”

“That’s what Sara Ralston claimed,” he hissed. “Brave as a man! Every bit as smart. She was teamed up with Mark McVey when I made sergeant. She froze during a robbery, and some bastard shot him right through the heart!”

Brick made no effort to cloak his grief, and Karen knew he couldn’t have done so, anyway. She knew what it meant to lose a partner. Rob Laney had once come perilously close to death. The bullet scar on her left shoulder was a permanent reminder of how she’d saved his life.

“Oh, Bauer, I know how that hurts,” Karen sympathetically confessed. “When my partner was shot, I—”

“You froze on him, too?”

Karen pulled back, angry and hurt all over again. “Isn’t it remotely possible that I did my part? My God, officers go down all the time when they’re teamed with men! Nobody jumps at the chance to cast blame in those cases!”

“Maybe you did your part and maybe you didn’t,” Brick growled. “Maybe your partner was too busy worrying about you to cover his own back. All I know is that Mark McVey was my partner, dammit, and I know that if I’d been beside him, he’d still be alive!”

“Then blame yourself for leaving him behind when you got promoted, Bauer! Don’t blame me and don’t blame every female cop!”

He jerked back as though she’d hit him. “You don’t think I feel guilty for moving on and leaving him? You don’t think I feel the weight of it bearing down on me at night like a tombstone on my chest?”

The anguish that filled his eyes made Karen ashamed she’d added to his pain. In hindsight she realized that Bauer wasn’t trying to attack her. He was only wrestling with his own despair.

“Bauer, I’m sorry.” Instinctively she gripped his arm. “I had no right to say that. This is a terrible business. People die in any war. Your partner’s death was tragic, but it’s not your fault.”

Through his regulation jacket, Karen could feel the masculine strength of his corded biceps. His tense breathing seemed to match her own, heightening her keen awareness of his powerful warmth. She didn’t want to be touched by his humanity, his maleness, the vulnerable corners of his heart. It was so much easier to see him as the enemy. So much easier to keep a hostile distance.

Brick turned away from her sharply, breaking her hold on his arm. While Karen swallowed her hurt, he stared out the window for a long, quiet moment, then confessed, “Captain, I’ve got a lot of reasons to resent you. Deep in my heart, I know that most of them don’t have a lot to do with you as a person. I’m sorry I’ve been so damn hard to work with.”

To her surprise, Karen said, “I’m sorry, too.”

He managed a thin smile. His dimples barely winked. “When I said most of them didn’t have a lot to do with you, I didn’t mean I like the way you’re running the station. You can be a bear. I just meant that...if I’m going to hate you, I ought to hate you for the right reasons. All this other baggage—my promotion, Mark’s death—well, that’s not playing fair.”

Karen had to admire Brick’s ethics. Even when he was angry, he seemed like a man she could trust. He’d come a long way in the past two days, and she didn’t want to push him. Still, she had to ask, “I don’t suppose you could consider not hating me at all? The men will take their cue from you. I’d rather not spend the next few years on the outside looking in.”