Wild Hearts Read online

  Tossing the pillow on the bed he stepped into the bathroom and pulled open the shower curtain. “Here, give me that.”

  After ordering the paint for the walls in the front room and her bedroom, Pilar was ready for some food. The paint store was just down the street from a deli that Roan said the hospital staff liked to order from, so she was happy to try it out. Living years and years in San Antonio meant that she knew a thousand and one places to eat there and in the surrounding areas, but she was still learning her way around Center City, especially the area surrounding her apartment. So, any chance she had for a new food experience was one she was going to take.

  When they walked inside Papas’ Deli, they got in line behind four or five people, it was hard to tell with the way everyone seemed to huddle up in line.

  Roan leaned closer and explained. “Mr. Papas has his daughter write the daily specials now that he has a bit of carpal tunnel in his dominant hand, but she writes with these tiny little letters so people have to crowd up to read it.”

  She nodded. “I don’t have to worry about that.”

  He gave her a curious look. “Super eyes?”

  She waved him off. “No way, but I’m going to let you order for me. You know the lay of the land here. Surprise me.”

  “Dating pressure,” he laughed. “I can take it.”

  It was hard for her to think about it like that. Dating. They hadn’t really talked about it, which may have seemed weird since they were already intimately acquainted with each other’s bodies. And had been acquainted over and over.

  Still, it just felt good between them.

  Maybe it was just like how Vicente had started with Sloane, well, except they had to live together because of the danger that she was in. While Roan had stayed in her apartment for the last few days since her unwanted leave from the department, neither of them was in any danger from their relationship.

  Well, maybe her heart. Some of the men she’d dated in the past hadn’t been all that excited about dating a woman in law enforcement. They acted like her ‘manly’ job made them look weak, or feel less than the ‘man’ in the relationship.

  That wasn’t true of Roan. He didn’t seem bothered by it in the least. That was probably because he was used to being around women who were strong and could take care of themselves in difficult situations.

  She knew that once she was back to work, she’d likely be back to being alone at night in her apartment. It was fine, really. She didn’t feel like she needed Roan around.

  But, she had to admit she liked it enough that she wanted him around.

  It was too early in whatever-they-were-doing to even suggest he stay over even just a few nights a week, but she couldn’t help wanting to say it.

  “I’ll grab us a table, okay?”

  Roan leaned in and gave her a kiss on her cheek before she got out of line. She needed a few moments to put her thoughts into order. They were certainly running away from her, going in circles around and around.

  She hadn’t felt this comfortable or right with any other guy she’d dated. There was that word again, popping up and making a nuisance of itself. Dating. Dated. What made things work between two people wasn’t about going to the movies, or mind-numbing trips to a bar or a club. What they shared with each other mattered. How close they’d become with each other mattered. Caring about each other and supporting each other. That mattered.

  At the counter, Roan was placing their order and Pilar tried to keep her focus off him. She turned around in her seat to face the table and found herself looking out onto the street. Much of the window surface was covered in signs announcing sales and specials, but there was enough space between them and on the double doors in front for her to see the people milling about outside.

  The area was a mix of old and new. Some of the buildings had been recently renovated by the look of it, and the planted trees that broke up the side walk looked like victims of a drought, or maybe just a bad watering system, but their branches were mostly bare, with a few determined sprigs that still had leaves on them.

  Sitting back in her chair she sighed hoping that someone would end up taking care of them. Having green on the streets was good for any neighborhood. Nature helped people connect, and she really liked the shade trees offered when she was stuck in a patrol car too.

  A crick in her back, probably from sleeping on the chaise with Roan, made her arch into a stretch. The shift opened the sides of her worn denim jacket and she had to make a grab for the front when she saw Roan sliding into the seat opposite her at the table.

  Roan saw the awkward gesture as he set their customer number down on the tabletop. “What’s that?”

  With a sheepish smile she laid the flat of her palm over ribs just under her breast. “My sidearm.”

  His brow tilted in a crooked wince. “Side arm. A literal meaning and a figurative one.”

  “I have a concealed carry permit.”

  “Next you’re going to tell me you feel naked not wearing one.”

  She heard the wry tone in his voice, but she also felt it in her own voice as well. “No, I feel naked when you look at me like that.” She leaned closer to the table and watched his eyes narrow on her face, but his eyes darkened too. “Yes, just like that.”

  The tension in his shoulders eased up as he sat back in his chair and smiled at her. “Well, we’ll have to see about taking care of that later.”

  Movement outside, visible over Roan’s shoulder caught her eye. A tall figure dressed in dark clothes moved past the window and around the corner.

  Hmm.

  “Looks like I lost you.”

  Pilar turned her head to look at him with a smile. “Sorry, something outside.” She didn’t offer any more details. “Please tell me you got one of those big pickles they have in jars on the counter.”

  “Pickles?” His expression was a little hard to read. “You like pickles?”

  She shrugged with a smile and licked at her bottom lip. “Who doesn’t?”

  Maybe it was just her imagination, but Roan’s healthy color had turned to a light shade of green.

  “I don’t.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders sagged. “Well, I guess you surprised me.”

  They both shared a little chuckle at that, but her laughter faded first. A figure in dark clothes passed by the front of the store again, drawing her attention.

  Leaning a few inches toward the left side of her chair she tried to follow the person as they continued on, but she couldn’t see them.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t answer, her mind going back over her observations of the last few minutes. Height, fit of clothes, weight was difficult because of the baggy sleeves she’d seen, but yes, it looked like the same person.

  “Pilar?”

  One of the front doors was thrown open and she turned her gaze in that direction. The door stuck open on its hinges and the rush of noise from the outside world flooded in.

  As she watched, the thin man who walked in put a hand to the top of his head and then dropped it as if he’d decided against pulling the top of his hoodie down. But he did pull out a gun from the pocket at the front of it and swept it around the room. “Everyone, stay put!”

  Pilar managed a quick look around the room to gauge everyone’s reaction and then focused it back on the man with the gun.

  He took a few steps forward and then a step back, probably trying to decide where he should stand to keep control of the situation. He had walked past several times, but he probably hadn’t been inside. He was likely regretting the decision.

  That wasn’t going to help anyone. She let out a slow breath as he jerked his gun toward Mr. Papas behind the counter. She could see his movements in the mirror effect of the second door that was still closed.

  “Give me the money in the register!”

  Lord help them all, someone took out their phone to record the robbery.

  Pilar sent up a silent prayer that the man didn’t shoot them when
he saw what they were doing.

  “Give me the money!”

  Mr. Papas was a rock. He didn’t make a sound as he pulled open the cash drawer and started to stuff cash into the bag he’d taken off of his own counter. His relative calm told her that he’d been in this position before. Sad as that was, he was doing what he could to satisfy the gunman and get him out of the deli.

  “Hey, give that to me!”

  Pilar watched as the man turned toward the tables and chairs on the other side of the room. He had his gun on the woman who had been recording the robbery on her phone.

  “Give it!”

  Shaking and starting to cry, the woman tossed the phone at him. It missed his hand and she screamed as the phone hit the floor.

  Pilar could see him hesitate, his gaze darting back and forth between the phone, the woman, and the man behind the counter who was fumbling with the drawer, trying to lift it up to reach the cash on the bottom.

  The gunman stomped on the phone several times until the glass shattered under his boot heel.

  “No more stupid moves, you hear me? No more! Hurry up, old man!”

  Everyone seemed to turn at the same time, all their eyes on Mr. Papas, whose face was pinched in pain.

  “Don’t play with me!”

  “I’m... I’m trying...”

  The man may have had height, but he was probably closer to being a boy. His frame was thin, painfully so, and the baggy clothing he wore didn’t hide it so much as make it obvious.

  Advancing on the counter, he waved the gun at Mr. Papas. “Hurry up, before I shoot someone!” He pointed the gun at the open door that led into the kitchen and a feminine scream could be heard.

  Pilar’s cheeks heated. That was probably Mrs. Papas. It wasn’t going to help the situation.

  “No. No.” Mr. Papas jiggled the cash drawer even harder, but it remained where it was. “Please leave Laura alone.”

  The top of the glass deli case cracked when the butt of the gun came crashing down on it, the glass spider-webbing from the impact. “Then fucking hurry up!”

  The drawer was nearly ripped out of the cash register and coins hit the ground and caused a huge clatter, but Mr. Papas was now gasping for a breath.

  From across the table, Roan murmured under his breath. “He’s got a heart condition.”

  She shook her head. This couldn’t go on much longer. The man should have been out of there, but the trouble with the cash register had probably stalled his plans.

  “Here!”

  Pilar could see some motion as Mr. Papas pushed the bag at the other man, but just before his hand could grab it, Mr. Papas sagged back, bringing his free hand to his chest.

  “Give it!” The gunman shoved the older man and he went down, his feet visible past the edge of the deli counter on the floor. When they saw the young man next, he had the bag in one hand and the other that was holding the gun had blood visible on his knuckles and fingers.

  The woman seated behind her whimpered and Pilar said a silent prayer for her to remain quiet, but it just wasn’t her day. It just wasn’t going to happen, because as soon as the gunman heard her hiccup of a sob, he turned in her direction and she began to wail.

  “Shut up!” He advanced on the woman, the hand holding his gun shaking enough that Pilar knew she had to act. He was unraveling. “I said SHUT UP!”

  Shifting slightly on her chair she felt something press down onto the tip of her shoe. A look up at Roan spoke volumes. Don’t.

  Don’t move.

  Don’t do this.

  Just don’t.

  That wasn’t an option. The instant he’d pistol whipped Mr. Papas, he’d made his own determination about how this would end.

  Pilar heard her brother in her ear, felt his hand on her shoulder like they used to do when he’d train her on her off hours. ‘Exhale before you move, just like taking the shot. Focus. Sure. Steady. Don’t second guess once you move.’

  She just wished they’d actually had food on the table. It would have been a good distraction. As it was, she was going to have to get up close and personal.

  He was closer, his voice rising in pitch. “I said shut the fuck up!”

  Click.

  The hammer set into place and that was it.

  Pilar was out of her seat, a little off balance because Roan’s foot had still been on the toe of her shoe, but it didn’t matter. There was enough force to get her on her feet and enough reach for her to grab the arm that held the gun and pull it down toward the floor. He was startled at first and didn’t fight her until he realized in a rush what was happening.

  Still holding onto the bag, he swung his arm at her head, but the weight of the money was too much for a man of his thin frame and the momentum tripped him up and they both went down, the gun flying loose of his fingers and across the laminate flooring.

  Someone got out of their chair to grab it and she hear Roan stop them with a warning. Thankful for the help, she managed to grab one hand and twist him around on the ground until she had him subdued.

  It was only then that she remembered she didn’t have handcuffs.

  12

  Pilar watched as the back doors of the ambulance closed and lifted a hand to wave to Roan even though she was sure he wasn’t going to see it. When the paramedics had arrived on scene, they converged on Mr. Papas. Roan had already assessed his current medical state and given them a rundown as they loaded him up on the gurney. Roan offered to go with them to the hospital.

  It made sense. Roan knew Mr. Papas and as the first responder on scene it made sense for him to be involved in his continued care, especially given Roan’s job in the ER.

  The man that she had subdued had already been handed off to the officers who arrived to answer the 911 call. Officer Swan was working the scene with Matt Ford. It would be interesting to see how Joe liked working with Matt. It was easy to lump him in with Burke, but then again, Pilar had seen how one bad partner could influence the other. Maybe Matt wasn’t so bad on his own.

  Hopefully.

  Pilar hated watching all the action and standing off to the side. It wasn’t that she wanted bad things to happen, although there were some drama hounds out there that loved to rubberneck. What she wanted to do was help close the case. Witnesses needed to be interviewed to get their statements.

  Unfortunately, even though she was going back to work tomorrow, today, she was still a civilian.

  Another squad car and an unmarked vehicle pulled up to the curb. Crois got out of the driver’s side of the squad car and her moment of relief washed away when she saw who stepped out of the unmarked car.

  Detective Henry Jerzek.

  Almost affectionately known as Jerk-zek to a number of the officers at Precinct Four.

  He made a beeline for her, and Pilar could only stand there and wait for whatever it was he was going to throw in her face.

  Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a spiral top notepad and a pencil that might have been standard length at one point, but had been worn down to the size of a golf pencil, making the detective choke up on the stem to write.

  “All right, Bravo.” He made her name sound like a curse. “Fill me in. What the fuck did you do now?”

  Calm. Just be calm.

  She had to remind herself of that particular mantra several times during his sidewalk interrogation. No matter how much he tried to twist her words, she just redirected him back to her own observations. It was like a master class in both assholes and sticking to the plain facts under duress.

  If she was ever kidnapped and tortured for information, her interaction with Jerzek was great practice.

  When he finished his second round of exactly the same questions, she saw someone over his shoulder that drew her attention. At first it was part of a profile, enough to look familiar but not quite jog her memory.

  “You got somewhere to be, Bravo?”

  Well, that got her attention. “I’ve answered your questions, Detective Jerzek. If yo
u have other questions, I can answer them tomorrow when I’m back on duty.”

  His lips twisted into an off-kilter snarl. “You’re just going to tell me what I can and cannot ask you?”

  “I didn’t say that at all, Detective. You’ve asked me the same sequence of questions twice. I’ve given you the same answers, and I would appreciate the chance to go to the hospital and see how Mr. Papas is doing. Unless you have something else-”

  He turned on his heel and stalked away toward the deli.

  Pilar looked over at the corner of the next building, but the man she was looking for wasn’t there. Knowing that the question was going to nag at her until she got her answer, she walked carefully around the yellow tape and caution cones and scanned the milling crowds for anyone familiar.

  Another few feet, and she was just about to the corner where he had been standing when she glimpsed his profile over Jerzek’s shoulder. Still, no one in sight bore any resemblance to the man she was looking for, even in the coffee shop at the corner of the block.

  “Damn it.”

  Turning to walk back, she noticed that there was a tiny space between the two buildings. Not so small that someone couldn’t walk through, but it wasn’t going to be easy for anyone larger than herself. At the end of the narrow passage she could see a stack of boxes, haphazardly stacked up. Most likely the refuse from the coffee shop’s deliveries from their wholesaler. And even further on, a number of cars. Likely enough parking spaces for people who worked on the block.

  As the cars along the side street slowed, she could hear something that sounded like voices at the end of the gap. Turning sideways to keep her jacket free of any dirt or grime from the walls on either side of her, Pilar moved through the gap on light feet. Just before the end of the passage she stopped and listened carefully.

  “That’s not the price we agreed on.”

  She was already on edge, with blood rushing through her veins from the confrontation in the deli, she wasn’t all that ready for another foray into a crime without her badge.