Authors: Ronica Black
“Why not?” Erin asked in her cold voice, unafraid and uncaring for the first time in years. She felt almost completely disconnected from her body. Like she was a balloon floating high above her physical form. She had no idea what the hell was going on. How could they expect her to do this?
“Up until a few hours ago, Adams was cooperating with us,” Ruiz explained. She came in willingly and she answered most of our questions. But when we asked about the night of the shooting, she clammed up and said she would only talk to you.”
“Me?” What did Liz want with her? She must be furious at her for going in after her undercover. Was she planning to have a little revenge, to somehow reveal Erin to her bosses?
“She’s waiting for you,” Ruiz prompted.
Just then, three other detectives entered the room. Jeff Hernandez gave her a warm, sincere smile of encouragement while Stewart merely glanced her way and coughed in his wheezy manner. Erin moved her gaze past the unsettling sight of Stewart to Gary Jacobs, who was greeting Patricia. The gang was all here.
It’s all on you, Erin.
Breathing in deeply, she grabbed the doorknob and said, “Okay, then.”
To her surprise, Patricia moved quickly over to her and pushed the door closed. “Listen, if you get uncomfortable in there…” She gazed at Erin intensely.
“I’ll be fine,” Erin said with focused determination.
Patricia looked disbelieving, but she moved away from the door.
Erin entered the room and approached Liz from behind, slowly and carefully, trying to get control of her quickly escalating heart rate. Liz didn’t bother to turn around.
“Ms. Adams,” Erin acknowledged in her best professional tone as she moved past her around the small table.
The memory of hypnotizing blue eyes was fresh in her mind. So much so that she was afraid to look into them, frightened of getting lost again. Willing her nerves to calm, she did the first routine thing that came to mind. She pulled out a chair across from the silent woman and sat down. Only then did she summon the nerve to face her, and in an instant, a powerful shock jolted her body.
“Hello Mrs. McKenzie.” That sexy, deep voice was like a caress.
Erin clutched the edge of the table so hard her knuckles whitened. As she took in the strikingly handsome face and deep voice, the night of the shooting ricocheted through her mind, replaying like a movie in fast-forward.
She saw the evil, dark-haired woman trying to kill her.
Flash.
She saw Adams step in the room.
Flash.
And in an instant, she saw Adams try to wrestle the gun from the woman with the evil laugh.
Flash.
Stifling the shot, saving her life.
Flash.
She blinked and swayed back in her chair as, in her mind, dark red blood stained her savior’s shirt. She opened her eyes wide and let reality hit her under the bright lights of the interrogation room. Adams had been shot. Shot saving her life.
“It…You were there.” Erin quickly refocused. The rush of memories left her feeling overwhelmed and slightly dizzy, but she also felt incredibly free. She was no longer a prisoner of her own mind.
“What do you mean?” Liz asked in a cagey tone.
“I remember now,” Erin murmured.
She studied Liz thoroughly for the first time, surprised to see how pale and drawn her face now appeared. She looked tired and even a little weak.
“What do you mean, you remember now?” Liz met her eyes.
Erin licked her dry lips, her skin burning suddenly in response to that piercing stare. Regardless of how tired and weak she now looked, Liz was still devastatingly beautiful.
“I…” She had to look away from those incredible eyes in order to concentrate. “Up until just now, I had a hard time remembering the events of the night of the shooting.”
Liz looked shocked and the little color in her face seemed to drain down into her neck. “You mean, all this time you just didn’t remember?”
“That’s correct.” Erin watched as Liz’s gaze drifted down to the table’s surface.
“I see.”
Liz felt suddenly sick. Ever since that night, she had thought that Erin had kept her secret out of respect for her, or maybe even because she harbored feelings for her. But it wasn’t like that at all. Erin McKenzie had kept her secret all right, but only because she couldn’t remember it.
Hurt beyond her wildest dreams, she clenched her jaw, caught between pain and complete shock. Never before had any woman been able to wound her. Somehow, some way, this young detective had that power, and Liz hated herself for being vulnerable to it.
“I was told you wanted to speak to me,” Erin said with a note of uncertainty.
Liz took in the beautiful face before her, noting the dark smudges under Erin’s eyes. She repressed an urge to reach out to her. “I did, yes. But now it seems that I have nothing else to say.”
“Oh?” Erin seemed surprised and disappointed.
Liz looked away from her then, the hurt too much.
“Let’s talk about the night of the shooting,” Erin pressed, as if the cop in her was trying to refocus.
Liz could feel the weight of the numerous stares on her back, pressing into her from just beyond the two-way mirror. They were watching her now. Watching and waiting. Excited, expectant, almost like children, wanting her to confess or incriminate herself like some kind of weakling. Well, they were going to be sorely disappointed. She had nothing left to say to the detective sitting in front of her.
“Let’s not,” she said with conviction.
Erin searched her face. “We have a lot to discuss, Ms. Adams. For instance, my fellow detectives already know that you were present at Detective Henderson’s the night of the shooting.” She continued to eye Liz as she pressed onward. “Your blood was on the carpet.”
Liz didn’t respond.
“And now I know why.” Erin declared with a note of pride and relief. “You weren’t there to kill me or to kill Henderson. You were there to stop the real killer.”
Liz stared into Erin’s eyes, her heart pounding. “If you remember as much as you say you do, then you’ll end this conversation right now.”
Erin’s head snapped back slightly as if she had been physically struck. Her brow furrowed and her eyes seemed fixed on a distant point. She was deep in thought; Liz could almost see her mind working.
“Your request,” she whispered finally, her eyes suddenly bright with comprehension. “That woman…”
“Hush.” Liz reached across the table to seize Erin’s hand. “Please.”
The door to the room behind the two-way mirror flung open as Patricia came rushing into the room.
Erin held up her free hand. “It’s okay. We’re fine.”
“She shouldn’t be touching you,” Patricia noted coldly.
Erin nodded and reluctantly removed her hand from beneath Liz’s. The heat from Liz’s touch was almost too much to bear anyhow, and it wouldn’t do her career any good to have her fellow detectives see her melt under a suspect’s caress. Her mind drifted again to the mysterious dark-haired woman with the familiar eyes and evil laugh. Of course. It all made so much sense to her now. She was Liz’s sister. That explained the plea to keep quiet.
So much seemed complicated and confusing. But one thing was perfectly clear. “You saved my life.”
“Yes,” Liz said softly. “I think, then, that you know what it is that I need to discuss with you.”
Erin fidgeted a little in her chair. “I’m not sure I—”
“Please.” Despite Patricia’s hovering presence near the door, Liz reached across the table to grasp her hand. “I know you will.”
Erin stared into Liz’s eyes and allowed the heat from her touch to penetrate her blood. She knew what Liz wanted. She wanted her silence. She wanted her to promise.
“Mrs. McKenzie…” Liz stared at Erin with blue flames burning in her eyes.
“Please, don’t call me that,” Erin said, cringing at the name. “Call me Erin, or Mac, even.”
“Erin.” Liz seemed to hold the name in her mouth.
In that split second, all Erin could think about was kissing her. She started to shake her head in protest, but the pressure on her hand increased and she looked into the pale, drawn face of the woman who had saved her life. The woman who had fought her own sister and taken a bullet for an undercover cop. The very cop who had invaded her life in order to gain information to peg a serial-murder case on her.
As she realized all these things, her heart opened up and her gaze lingered over Liz’s beautiful face and rested once again on her burning eyes. She could feel something tangible between them. Not just a shared secret, but something more.
“If I…” Erin started, but then thought better of it. “I have questions.” She withdrew her hand before causing another excited reaction from Patricia.
Liz smiled a tired smile. “I know.” She held Erin’s gaze, somehow reassuring her that all would answered. But not here. Not now. “But you remember that I was at Detective Henderson’s that night to stop the real killer, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The door opened again and Sergeant Ruiz motioned Erin over. “What the hell’s going on in here, Mac?” he demanded in a hushed tone.
“She’s not your killer,” Erin said loudly enough so that Liz would hear.
“Then who the hell is?”
“I’m not totally sure.” It was almost the truth. She didn’t know the name of the killer or where they might find her. She would ask Liz these questions and if she didn’t get satisfactory answers, she would simply claim that she had suddenly remembered the killer’s identity and tell her superior. Until then, the department wasn’t going to get the information from her. She owed at least that much to Liz for saving her life.
“What the hell do you mean you don’t remember?” Ruiz asked, his temper flaring up. “I thought you said you’d gotten your memory back.”
“I remember Adams saving my life, sir. Jumping in front of the shooter and taking a bullet for me.”
“But you don’t know who the shooter is?” His face reddened.
“I remember the girl, Tracy, trying to shoot me, sir.” That much was true.
Ruiz threw his hands up in the air and let them fall to slap his thighs.
Her own temper building on frayed and overtired nerves, Erin moved past him to the hidden room where the other detectives were waiting. Patricia and Ruiz followed her. The sergeant started to speak again but Erin cut him off.
“No! I’m going to talk now, and you can listen.” She’d had enough. Angrily, she said, “Let me get all this straight. First, I go undercover to try and save the department face by getting evidence on the supposed killer. Then, I live through an attack on my life, leaving Henderson injured and another person dead. Then, I’m forced to go on medical leave because I can’t remember all of the events of the night in question. So, I go off to try to recuperate, to try to force my mind to remember, because otherwise, I’m out of a job. In doing so, I’ve had almost no sleep and feel like I’m going crazy. Then, lo and behold, out of the blue, you send Patricia to get me because, guess what, the department decides it needs me again.”
She paused long enough to take in the shocked faces around her. Too bad, she thought. After this, they could discharge her, for all she cared. Having nothing left to lose, she forged on.
“Being the loyal cop that I am, I came here today for the good of the department. And for some reason, questioning that woman made my memory come back. I’m thrilled about that. Actually, I’m ecstatic. And silly me, I thought my superior and the department would be just as thrilled as I am. But oh no. My memory doesn’t peg your girl, so you start yelling at me. Well, fuck that, Ruiz. I can’t make the facts fit your theory about who’s guilty here. It’s not my fault you wasted time and money chasing the wrong person. Adams is innocent. And not only that, she saved my life.”
She stopped, her chest heaving, her fists clenched at her sides. Patricia moved quickly to her side and gave her a silencing look, obviously trying to defuse the explosive situation.
“Sir, she’s exhausted,” Patricia said. “This has been too much.”
Ruiz stood perfectly still, staring at his young detective in obvious disbelief.
“Where the fuck did that come from?” Stewart let out before he chuckled. “Damn, Mac, I think going under as a dyke on this case caused you to grow some big, hairy balls.”
“You know, Stewart,” Patricia seethed. “I’m sick to death of your sexist and prejudiced remarks.”
“That’s enough!” Ruiz shouted. “From all of you. Now, I know we’re all frustrated…”
Ignoring the drama playing out, Erin crossed to the two-way mirror to look at Liz. “How long has she been here?”
Jeff had gone into the room to talk to her, to question her some more, while the other detectives continued to bicker. No one seemed to have heard Erin’s question, or they were choosing to ignore it.
With a shrug, she walked back into the interrogation room and, paying no mind to Jeff’s questioning look, asked Liz, “When were you brought in, Ms. Adams?”
“Last night.”
Erin glanced at her wristwatch. “So you’ve been here for eighteen hours?”
Her anger exploded into fury. With Jeff on her heels, she marched back into the observation room and slammed the door behind them.