Night Shield (19 page)

“Shut up, Addy.”

“Somebody’s always saying that to me.”

Charmed despite himself, Jonah smiled at her. “Do you listen?”

“Absolutely not.”

The noise level rose—screams, shouts. A couple of gangly teenagers of indeterminate sex raced by armed with enormous water guns. He saw a woman with a sunny sweep of hair in deep conversation with a striking redhead. A group of men—some stripped to the waist—battled it out brutally on a blacktopped basketball court. Another group of young people, dripping wet, raided a table loaded with food.

“Pool’s around the other side of the house,” Ally explained. “It’s glassed in so we can use it all year.”

One of the men on court pivoted, drove through the line of defense and dunked the ball. Then he
caught sight of Ally and deserted the field.

She met him halfway, shouting with laughter when he plucked her off her feet. “Put me down, moron. You’re sweaty.”

“So would you be if you were leading your team to a second consecutive victory.” But he dropped her on her feet, wiped his hand on his jeans, then held it out to Jonah. “I’m Bryant, Ally’s far superior brother. Glad you could make it. Want a beer?”

“Yes, actually.”

Bryant eyed Jonah, measuring size and build. “You play any roundball?”

“Occasionally.”

“Great, we’re going to need fresh meat. Shirts and skins. Ally, get the man a beer while I finish trouncing these pansies.”

“Come on inside.” In a show of sympathy, Ally rubbed a hand up and down Jonah’s arm. “Get your bearings. It’s too confusing to try to meet everyone at once.”

She drew him up onto a deck, where yet another table was spread with food and an enormous metal trough was filled with ice and cold drinks. She plucked out two beers and went in through the atrium doors.

The kitchen was spacious, broken up into family areas with counters and a banquette. In one corner a dark-haired man was trying to tug away from a dark-haired woman. “I’ll live, Aunt Deb. Mom, get her off me.”

“Don’t be a baby.” With her head stuck in the refrigerator, Cilla swore. “We’re going to run out of ice. I knew it. Didn’t I tell him we’d run out of ice?”

“Hold still, Keenan.” Deborah covered the scratches with a gauze pad, taped it neatly. “There, now you can have a lollipop.”

“I’m surrounded by smart alecks. Hey, speaking of which, here’s Ally.”

“Aunt Deb.” Ally hurried over to hug her aunt, then reached over and grazed her knuckles over Keenan’s cheek. “Hi, hero. This is Jonah Blackhawk. Jonah, my aunt Deborah, my brother Keenan. You’ve met my mother.”

“Yes. Nice to see you again, Mrs. Fletcher.”

A small army chose that moment to pour in through the door, full of shouted complaints and chased by an unbelievably large and ugly dog.

Ally was immediately absorbed into them. And before he could defend himself, so was Jonah.

*  *  *

Jonah intended to leave at the end of the hour. A deal was a deal. His plan was to make some polite conversation, keep as far out of the way as humanly possible, then fade back into his car and back into the city where he knew the rules.

And somehow, he was stripped out of his shirt and going elbow to gut in a vicious game of basketball with Ally’s uncles, cousins, brothers. In the heat of competition, he lost track of intentions.

But he damn well knew it was Ally herself who stomped on his instep and cost him game point.

She was fast and sneaky, he conceded that as he ripped the ball away from an opponent and gave her one deadly glare. But she hadn’t grown up on the streets where a single basket could mean a buck for a burger against a painfully empty stomach.

That made him faster. And sneakier.

“I like him.” Natalie ignored her son’s bloodcurdling scream of revenge and tucked an arm through
Althea’s.

“He was a hard-ass, but Boyd always liked him. Ouch, he plays dirty.”

“What other way is there? Whoa, Ryan’s going to be limping tomorrow. Serves him right,” Natalie said with a laugh. “Taking on a guy half his age. Nice butt.”

“Ry’s? I’ve always thought so.”

“Keep your eye off my husband, Captain. I was referring to our Ally’s young man.”

“Does Ryan know you ogle young men?”

“Naturally. We have a system.”

“Well, I am forced to agree. Ally’s young man has a very nice butt. Oh, ouch, that had to hurt.”

“I think I could take him,” Natalie murmured, then laughed at Althea’s arch look. “In basketball. Get your mind out of the gutter.” She swung an arm over her old friend’s shoulder. “Let’s go get some wine and pump Cilla for info on this new and very interesting situation.”

“You read my mind.”

*  *  *

“I know nothing, I say nothing,” Cilla claimed as she poured another bag of ice into the trough. “Go away.”

“It’s the first guy she’s brought to one of the family deals,” Natalie pointed out.

Cilla merely straightened and mimed zipping her own lips.

“Give it up,” Deborah advised. “I’ve been interrogating her for a half hour, and I got zero.”

“You lawyers are too soft.” Althea moved forward, grabbing Cilla by the collar. “Now, a good cop knows how to get to the truth. Spill it, O’Roarke.”

“Do your worst, copper, I ain’t no stool pigeon. Besides, I don’t know anything yet. But I will,” she murmured as she saw Ally dragging Jonah toward the deck. “Clear out, give me five minutes.”

“It’s nothing,” Jonah insisted.

“It’s blood. Rules of the house. If it bleeds, it gets mopped up.”

“Ah, another victim.” Cilla rubbed her hands together as her friends and relations conveniently scattered. “Bring him on.”

“His face ran into something.”

“Your fist,” Jonah said with some bitterness. “Guarding the goal doesn’t include left jabs.”

“Around here it does.”

“Let’s see.” Wisely Cilla kept her expression sober as she studied Jonah’s bleeding lip. “Not so bad. Ally go help your father.”

“But I—”

“Go help your father,” Cilla repeated and, snagging Jonah’s hand, dragged him up to the deck and into the kitchen. “Now, let’s see, where did I put my instruments of torture?”

“Mrs. Fletcher.”

“Cilla. Sit down, and button it up. Whining is severely punished around here.” She gathered up a damp cloth, ice and antiseptic. “Punched you, did she?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Takes after her father. Sit,” she ordered again and jabbed a finger into his bare stomach until he obeyed. “I appreciate your restraint in not hitting her back.”

“I don’t hit women.” He winced when she dabbed at the cut.

“Good to know. She’s a handful. Are you up to that?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Is it just sex, or are you up for the whole package?”

He wasn’t sure which shocked him more, the question or the sudden sting of antiseptic. He swore, ripely, then clenched his teeth. “Sorry.”

“I’ve heard the word before. Was that your answer?”

“Mrs. Fletcher.”

“Cilla.” She leaned in close, then smiled into his eyes. Good eyes, she thought. Steady, clear. “I’ve embarrassed you. I didn’t expect to. Almost done here. Hold this ice on it a minute.”

She slid onto the bench across from him, crossed her arms on the table. By her calculations, she had two minutes tops before someone burst in the door and interrupted. “Boyd didn’t think you would come today. I did. Allison is relentless when she’s set her mind on something.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I don’t know your mind, Jonah. But I know something about you, and I know what I see. So I want to tell you something.”

“I didn’t intend to stay this long—”

“Hush,” she said mildly. “A lifetime ago. Nearly your lifetime ago, I met this cop. This irritating, fascinating, hardheaded cop. I didn’t want to be interested. I certainly didn’t want to be involved. My mother was a cop, and she died in the line of duty. I’ve never gotten over it. Not really.”

She had to take a breath to steady herself, because it was perfectly true. “The last thing I wanted, the last thing I figured was good for me, was to find myself tangled up with a cop. I know how they think, what they are, what they risk. God, I didn’t want that in my life. And here I am, a lifetime later. The wife of one, the mother of one.”

She glanced out the window, caught sight of her husband, then her daughter. “Strange, isn’t it, the way things turn out? It isn’t easy, but I wouldn’t give up a moment of it. Not one moment.”

She patted the hand he’d laid on the table, then rose. “I’m glad you came today.”

“Why?”

“Because it gave me a chance to see you and Ally together. It gave me a chance to look at you, close. An opportunity you haven’t given me more than twice in, what is it, Jonah, seventeen years? And I like what I see.”

Leaving him speechless, she turned to the fridge and pulled out a platter of burger patties. “Would you mind taking these to Boyd? If we don’t feed the kids every couple of hours, it gets ugly.”

“All right.” He took the platter, struggled with himself while she just smiled at him out of the eyes Ally had inherited. “She’s a lot like you, too.”

“She inherited all of my and Boyd’s most annoying qualities. Funny how that works.” She rose on her toes, gently touched her lips to the wound at the corner of his mouth. “That comes with the treatment.”

“Thanks.” He shifted the tray, searched for something to say. No one in his life had ever kissed him where it hurt. “I have to get back to the city. Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome. You’re welcome anytime, Jonah.”

She smiled to herself as he went out. “Your turn at the plate, Boyd,” she murmured. “Make it count.”

“It’s all in the wrist,” Boyd claimed, flipping a burger.

“I thought you said it was all in the timing.” Ally stood, thumbs tucked into her pockets while her brother Bryant looked on, his elbow comfortably hooked on her shoulder.

“Timing is, of course, essential. There are many, many subtle aspects to the art of the barbecue.”

“But when do we eat?” Bryant demanded.

“Two minutes if you’re going for a burger. Another ten if you’re holding out for steak.” He peered through the billowing smoke as Jonah cut across the yard with a platter. “Looks like we have more supplies on the way.”

“How about a burger, then steak?”

“You’re tenth in line, I believe, for burger requests, son. Take a number.” Boyd flipped another, sent it sizzling, then furrowed his brow as he caught sight of his wife on the side deck.

Dancing in place, she waved her arms, pointed at Jonah, pointed at Boyd, circled her fingers. He got the drift and, though he winced inwardly, gave a subtle shrug of acknowledgment.

Okay, okay, I’ll talk to him. Damn it.

Cilla only smiled, then wagged her finger back and forth.

And I won’t hurt him. Sheesh.

“Just set down the fresh rations, Jonah.” Boyd jerked a thumb toward the high table beside the pit. “How’s the lip?”

“I’ll live.” Jonah sent Ally a steely stare. “Especially since despite unsportsmanlike conduct by the opposing guard, I made the basket. And won.”

“Lucky shot. We’ll have a rematch after we eat.”

“She loses,” Bryant commented, “she demands a rematch. She wins, she rubs it in your face for days.”

“And your point would be?” Ally fluttered her lashes at him.

“Mom would never let me hit her because she was a girl.” Bryant gave Ally’s ear one hard tug. “I’ve always found that grossly unfair.”

“Big deal. You just beat up on Keenan.”

“Yeah.” Instantly Bryant’s face brightened. “Those were the days. I’m planning on punching on him later, for old times’ sake.”

“Can I watch? Like I used to.”

“Naturally.”

“Please. Your mother and I like to maintain the illusion we raised three well-balanced, competent adults. Don’t shatter our dreams. Jonah, you haven’t seen my workshop, have you?” At his daughter’s answering snort, Boyd winged an eyebrow at her. “No comments. Bryant, this is a moment.”

“Is it?”

“A monumental moment. I am passing the sacred tongs and spatula to you.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Ally elbowed her brother aside. “Why can’t I do it?”

“Ah.” Boyd held a hand to his heart. “How many times have I heard you say those very words in our long and exciting life together?”

Amused and fascinated by the family dynamics, Jonah watched mutiny settle over Ally’s face. “Well, why can’t I?”

“Allison, my treasure, there are some things a man must pass to his son. Son.” Boyd laid a hand on Bryant’s shoulder. “I’m trusting you with the Fletcher reputation. Don’t let me down.”

“Dad.” Bryant wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “I’m overwhelmed. Honored. I swear to uphold the family name, no matter what the cost.”

“Take these.” Boyd held out the barbecue tools. “Today, you are a man.”

“That bites,” Ally muttered as Boyd swung an arm around Jonah’s shoulder.

“You’re just a girl.” Bryant leered and rubbed the tools together. “Live with it.”

“She’ll make him pay for that,” Boyd murmured. “So, how are things?”

“Well enough.” How the hell was Jonah supposed to make a quiet escape when someone or other was always dragging him somewhere? “I appreciate the hospitality today. I’m going to have to get back to the club.”

“A business like that doesn’t give you a lot of free time, especially in the early years.” Still he steered Jonah toward a wooden structure in the far corner of the yard. “Know anything about power tools?”

“They make a great deal of noise.”

Boyd gave a hoot of laughter and opened the door of the workshop. “What do you think?”

The garage-size room was full of tables, machines, shelves, tools, stacks of wood. There appeared to be a number of projects in progress, but Jonah couldn’t tell what they were, or what they were intended to be.

“Impressive,” he decided, diplomatically. “What do you do here?”

“I make a great deal of noise. Other than that, I haven’t figured it out. I helped Keenan build a birdhouse about ten years ago. Came out pretty good. Cilla started buying me tools. Boy toys, she calls them.”

He ran his hand over the guard of a skill saw. “Then I needed a place to keep them. Before I knew it, I had a fully equipped workshop. I think it was all a ploy to get me out of her hair.”