Excerpt
Chapter One
Lower Manhattan, New York City
‘Ah, crap, what is he doing here?’ Detective Megan Matthews frowned, leaning over to set her cup of coffee on the hood of Sam Chambers’ squad car. She’d caught a glimpse of the all too familiar and unwelcome, Ryan Lucas, and hoped by leaning over out of his eye line that he’d not see her. ‘Doesn’t the department have any other photographers they can call? Does it always have to be him?’
It was late, but the streetlights and squad cars lit up the narrow street, shining down the abandoned alleyway now blocked off with yellow barrier tape. Part of a long trail of museum artefacts littered the alley, dropped by less than ninja-like burglars as they ran from the law—or in this case, two museum security guards who were in somewhat impressive shape. The mess had created a crime scene that lasted for several city blocks.
Seeing one of the security guards smiling in her direction, Megan turned her attention away without encouraging him. She had put in a long day only to be called back to work the second she walked into her apartment. The last time she’d gotten a full night’s sleep was over a month ago and the last time she had a day off was too long past to remember. For the most part, she didn’t care. Her work was her life. She wasn’t ashamed of that fact.
However, her job had seemed less important as of late. At twenty-nine, Megan was one of the youngest detectives on the force. She’d been on homicide for a little over two years before transferring to a special investigations unit. Now she worked on solving burglaries and the occasional kidnappings. Somehow, looking for stolen art wasn’t as rewarding as apprehending a killer. But, what could she do? The transfer was unavoidable, but not completely her choice. She blamed Ryan Lucas for it.
Ryan was new to their ranks as a forensic photographer, having come to them from newspaper freelancing. The annoying man literally entered her life in a ‘flash’. With one click of a shutter release during the now infamous arrest of a serial killer, he’d made her immortal and also made it damn hard to do her job. Because of that photograph, she was now New York City’s ‘Little Darling Detective’. It showed her taking down Jersey St Claud, a man accused of killing seven women in just over three years.
Accused my ass, St Claud is a guilty fucker.
Because of Ryan, her image had been plastered everywhere for months, turning up over and over again on the news during the initial arrest and pre-trial. She’d even heard of it being published in a few books, though she’d never seen it herself. Now with the trial coming up, there it was again. Images were powerful things and, because of the photo, she was often given sole credit for what had been a group effort.
Being a ‘Little Darling Detective’ meant she’d not had even the slightest hint at a decent date in just under a year. Her job was tense enough as it was, but take away any kind of recreational sex and she was a basket case. It was one of the reasons she’d asked to be transferred off homicide. The only men who wanted to be seen with a famous cop were the ones wanting to show her off like a dating trophy. She refused to be a novelty story they could tell their friends at parties. Then, there were also the submissive types who wanted her to dominate them. Sure, she’d run into the kind before, but now it was worse. They all wanted the woman who took down crime with a single knee to the back.
‘What, Matthews? Not happy to see your boyfriend?’ Sam laughed. He was a pain in the ass, but she’d take a bullet for him nonetheless.
‘Do me a favour. Try to distract him while I do a once through the crime scene before taking off,’ Megan said, ignoring the boyfriend comment. Denying the obvious fact that she had nothing to do with Ryan Lucas would only make the teasing worse. ‘I’m beat and you all have this handled. Every cop in the city is on the lookout for the perps.’
In perspective, a few missing pieces of art hardly called for sleepless nights. Her artist sister, Kat, might disagree with that fact. However, Megan had seen much worse in the line of duty. What was a missing painting and a few ancient rocks compared to a person’s life?
‘You got it, boss.’ Sam nodded, automatically pushing up from the car. The one good thing that had come from Ryan’s photograph was that she’d gotten a lot of respect from fellow officers. Not once did she live up to the hype of her publicity. She still came to work, still did her job and never asked for special treatment. Sure, the teasing had been hard at first, but she ignored it. Then, when it came time for public statements, she’d given credit to everyone from the police department to the FBI, downplaying her role in the arrest. In doing so, she’d earned herself some in-house kudos.
‘Hey, superstar, where you off to so fast? Running off to solve the case without us?’
Megan flinched at the sound. Naturally, there were still a few jerks willing to annoy her. She turned, keeping a blank face, as she acknowledged, ‘Axel.’
Who in the hell called him?
Axel was the true definition of cop—every stereotypical image that popped up when someone said the word. He had the buzz cut, the mirrored sunglasses, the thick moustache and bad aftershave. His daddy was a cop, his daddy’s daddy was a cop, his uncles and brothers and even his brother-in-law were all cops. Deciding she didn’t want to deal with him, she rudely turned and ducked under the tape.
‘Whoa, so the little darling doesn’t have time for average joe’s like me, eh?’ he yelled after her, snickering in a way that made her skin crawl.
‘Don’t you have a bribe to take?’ she mumbled back.
“Hey, those charges were dropped!’
Megan didn’t answer. Grabbing a flashlight from her waist, she shone the beam of light over the ground. Already the little yellow photo markers were propped up, ready for Ryan to come through and snap his pictures. She stepped slowly around them. Each one indicated a piece of stolen artefacts from one of the museums uptown. Her thick boots hardly made a noise as she walked over the uneven concrete. Seeing a glittering object within the darkness, she moved the beam of her flashlight behind a trashcan. It looked like a diamond earring.
‘Someone bring me a marker,’ Megan called.
‘Here, I’ve got some.’
She stopped moving, closing her eyes. Wasn’t Sam supposed to be distracting Ryan? Then what was the photographer doing alone in the alley with her? She didn’t like him being around. Just his presence worked her nerves and distracted her concentration.
‘Here,’ Ryan asserted when she didn’t answer. ‘What do you have?’
‘There,’ Megan said, pointing with the light. She held it steady as he brushed past her to set the marker. ‘Looks like an earring. Strange, considering what else they took.’
Ryan stepped through the beam and for a brief moment she got a good look at his face—not that she needed to see him to remember what he looked like. His hair was longer, falling to his chin in soft brown waves. The man had an endless supply of t-shirts and blue jeans, which always bulged at the pockets with the canisters that held rolls of film. She wondered why he carried print film when all she’d seen him use at crime scenes was a digital camera.
Megan didn’t know why she noticed the small detail. Perhaps it was her training or maybe it was because Ryan kept popping up around her—at work and even a few times when she went to see her sister. Kat worked with her entomologist husband at the American Museum of Natural History. Dr Vincent Richmond had helped them solve the serial killer case and Ryan had gone to take his picture for an article. Kat and Ryan hit it off, making it even harder for Megan to avoid the man. He was like a cockroach she couldn’t get rid of.
OK, so maybe cockroach was a bit harsh. But he was a pain in the ass and she was too tired to deal with him tonight. Truth be told, Megan understood the friendship between Ryan and Kat. They were both photographers with laid back, artistic mentalities. Megan has always been too edgy for such an easygoing lifestyle. She needed to be up and moving, needed the mental and physical stimulation, needed to be constantly challenged. Work did that for her.
Dazed from lack of sleep, she merely stared as he put the marker down by the diamond. When he turned to her, his dark blue eyes struck her like a shock of cold water over the head. She blinked, coming out of her daze. Ryan would have been a handsome man, if she didn’t resent him so much. He was athletic, but not too muscled. When he smiled two dimples lit up his face and when he spoke his words were infused with hints of a lazy, New York accent. It was enough to give a girl chills.
‘Are you going to be at Sunday dinner?’ Ryan asked, clearly trying to make small talk. He always did that. Didn’t he realise he’d nearly ruined her life? Well, her career which was her life?
‘Is there a department banquet?’ Megan frowned. She didn’t remember there being any city functions on her schedule.
‘Sunday dinner with your parents,’ Ryan explained.
What in the world did he know about Sunday dinner with her parents? Megan automatically knew the answer. Kat. Her sister had told him.
‘Um, yeah, probably, if I can get away,’ Megan said. It was Monday night and she really hadn’t thought that far ahead in her schedule. Who knew what the weekend would hold. She did miss her family and hadn’t been able to attend dinner the day before because of paperwork. At least now that her parents lived on Ninety-Sixth Street and Columbus, she did get to see them and her sisters more often.
Altogether, Megan had four sisters. She was the oldest of the bunch. Then there was Kat the photographer, Zoe the chef, Sasha the undecided college student and Ella the baby who was off serving in the Navy.
‘You must be pretty excited,’ Ryan said.
‘Excited?’ Megan repeated, confused. Maybe she needed sleep more than she’d realised because she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out why they were talking about Sunday dinner with her parents while in the middle of working a crime scene.
‘Because Ella’s coming home.’ Ryan gave her a small smile.
‘Oh, yeah.’ Megan pretended to know what he was talking about. The news perked her up some. It had been awhile since she checked her personal messages. Was Ella making it home Sunday? It would be the first time any of them saw Ella since she left for basic training.
‘I’ll be excited to meet her.’ Ryan took the lens cap off his camera and made a few adjustments before aiming it at the jewel she’d found. His flash went off and she blinked hard, suddenly seeing bright spots in her vision. ‘Actually, it’ll be nice meeting the rest of your family. I’ve met Kat, obviously, and Zoe at her restaurant about a month ago when Kat and I were having lunch. I haven’t met Sasha or Ella or your parents yet, but—’
‘What are you talking about?’ Megan broke in. Didn’t this guy have a family of his own to go to? Why was he so worried about meeting all of hers? It’s not like she wanted him in her life any more than he already was. And it wasn’t as if Kat was going to date him. Kat was happily married and madly in love with her husband.
‘Sunday dinner. Kat invited me to come,’ he said, studying her. ‘Hey, are you all right? You look…’ He shrugged.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ Even to her own ears her voice was flat and unenthusiastic.
‘Anyway,’ Ryan continued, again fiddling with his camera before moving to another marker to take the picture. ‘Kat’s got a meeting before dinner and she gave me the address to meet her there, but I was thinking,’ he paused, clearing his throat, ‘that maybe we could go together.’
Megan blinked slowly, not answering. Did she hear him right? Did he just ask her out on a date—to her parents’ house? Unable to answer, she actually felt sorry for the poor man. What kind of sorry loser asked a woman to go on a date with her mom, dad and sisters? It would have been mildly disturbing, if she didn’t find it somewhat pathetic.
‘You know, since we’re both heading there anyway.’ He took another picture.
Megan suppressed the urge to laugh in his face. He was asking her out on a date to her parents’ house. The fact that she’d not had a real date since her picture hit newsstands almost made her say yes. Remembering that he was the reason for it, made
her answer, ‘Um, no.’
‘What? Why?’ He lowered his camera to look at her. Was he really surprised at her answer?
‘I don’t date co-workers,’ she said, keeping her tone light as she did her best to be more civil.
‘But, we’re not really.’ Ryan moved to the next marker. The only way out of the alley was the way she’d come, which was also the direction Ryan was working his way over to. ‘I’m not a cop. I don’t keep an office at the precinct and it’s not like our work can be compromised by the other.’
‘Sorry,’ Megan dismissed, ‘you’re not my type.’
‘How do you know?’
‘A woman knows.’ Megan started to edge past him, trying to make a clean getaway. The man was determined, she’d give him that. Most guys back down after one of her curt rejections. Knowing it to be the kiss of death on any potential relationship, she lied and said, ‘I’m looking for marriage, kids, you know, the whole familial package. The next guy I go out with will be “the one”.’
If that didn’t send him running for the hills, then he was crazy. No man wanted a woman who became so serious so fast, or one who was baby and marriage focused. Megan really wasn’t either of those things. She had a good job and if her fellow officers were any kind of example, cops made bad marriage partners. It was a natural side effect of the work. She knew as much going in to the line of work.
‘And how do you know you’ve found the one if you don’t date around?’ Ryan asked, though he did sound less sure of himself.
The man was persistent. Well, time to be extra dingy and turn him off completely. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She heard a motorcycle engine roar behind her. ‘A man with a motorcycle. A classic, not one of those street bikes we’re always impounding.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep.’ It was all Megan could do not to laugh. She sounded certifiably insane even to her own ears. Though, the fact she was even having this conversation did decide it. She needed sleep, lots and lots of sleep. It was way too much fun teasing him. ‘In fact, I would marry a guy like that with very little questions asked—so long as he was reasonably close to my age, disease free, liked children, unmarried, liked women, showered on a regular basis and had a good paying, legal, steady job. The details are irrelevant. I know me and I know with those few things, I would be happy.’
‘All based on the type of motorcycle he had?’ Ryan shook his head in obvious disbelief.
‘It’s not just the bike, it’s the type of man who’d have a bike.’
‘Kat mentioned you were sure of yourself,’ he said softly. ‘I guess she was right.’
At that Megan frowned. He had talked to Kat about her? She took a step back, close to making her exit. Ryan lifted the camera.
‘Detective Megan Matthews, a woman who knows what she wants,’ Ryan stated.
Megan wondered at the tone in his voice. He pointed the camera at her. Her mind raced as she wondered what Kat had said about her, what they’d talked about, and then she wondered why she even cared what they discussed. She took another step back.
‘Say cheese,’ Ryan said.
Megan opened her mouth, putting her foot down at the same time. A loud crunch sounded under her boot just as the camera flash went off. She stiffened in horror, looking down at the ground. As if staged as the ultimate humiliation, a yellow marker with a big number one on it stood next to her foot, pointing in Ryan’s direction so he’d have a clean shot of it. Slowly, she lifted her boot, looking down at what she’d stepped on. It was a museum artefact—a carved deity that looked really ancient, really important and now really broken into five separate pieces.
This was a disaster. She, a New York detective, had stepped on evidence—evidence from a huge museum backed by generously rich patrons and known all over the world. And Ryan caught the deed on film. Again.
© copyright 2007, Michelle M. Pillow This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
