Always Yesterday Page 3

  “How about Coopet?” she asked with a grin. She must be trying to be silly to pull him out of his funk. “Or Coopetta?”

  In spite of himself, he smiled. “You could be D, and I’ll be E.”

  “Sure, and how about F for our last name?” She rolled her eyes, and they both chuckled. Laughter kept all cops sane, making the job bearable and releasing tension. Man, did she look beautiful when she laughed. He thought about what name might fit her, something fairly close to her own, something soft and feminine.

  “How about Lanie?”

  Her expression changed at his suggestion, but he couldn’t quite read her. “Lanie?” she asked quietly.

  “Lanie.” This time he said it with absolute certainty.

  Chapter 3

  Lanie. Pain squeezed Delanie’s heart. At her insistence, everyone had stopped calling her Lanie when she was ten—right after Grandpa died. Hearing it now—after all those years—still brought a reaction. She’d been Grandpa’s special girl, and Lanie was his special name for her. He’d started the trend, and soon the whole family followed his lead.

  “Coop?” Eli’s tone reflected his uncertainty. “If you don’t like Lanie. . .” His brow creased.

  She shook her head. He seemed so pleased with the idea; she didn’t want to spoil what little progress they’d made. “Lanie’s fine.” Inhaling a deep breath, she pulled a highlighter from her purse and began to read the case file, avoiding his probing eyes, not wishing him to see the emotion the name evoked. They sat in silence, sipping their hot beverages, studying the notes, and occasionally commenting on something from the file.

  A couple of hours later, Delanie stood, stretched, and turned her head to loosen the kinks in her neck. “I’m getting hungry. I don’t eat breakfast, so by midmorning I’m always famished. Do you like Mexican food?”

  Eli glanced from his paperwork to his watch, then up at her. “Sure, but at 10:00 a.m.?” His expression seemed to question her sanity.

  “By the time we walk over there and order, and they cook everything, it’ll be almost eleven.” She tried to convince him of the common sense of her plan. “Eleven is lunchtime, right?”

  “I suppose.” He rose from his chair.

  “Do you mind?” At his shrug Delanie scooped up her case notes and filed them back in the folder. He followed her lead. She grabbed her purse off the back of the chair and headed for the door, depositing her empty cup in the trash on the way out. Eli held the door for her.

  “Ever been to Bertha Miranda’s?” she asked.

  “Down Mill?” Eli asked as he shot a basket with his cup, hitting the outdoor container dead center.

  “Yep.” Delanie raised her face to the warm Nevada sun, and they started their little jaunt toward one of Reno’s older eating establishments.

  “Never been there. I’ve heard the food’s great, but the wait is always so long that I never bothered.”

  “Don’t you know the best things in life are worth the wait?” She studied his profile—the strong jawline and chiseled cheekbone. He made no response to her comment, verbal or otherwise, so she continued, “Anyway, all your info is correct, which is why now is the perfect time to go. My family comes here often after church on Sundays. We make it a point to arrive early and then dash to a table when the doors open. So your job is to mow down anyone who gets in our way. My brothers have it down to a science.”

  “If I’m the mower, what’s your job?”

  “To apologize for your rude behavior.”

  Eli chuckled. Not quite a laugh, but a chuckle nonetheless. The sound quickened her heart. Maybe she was winning him over. They veered left at Mill.

  “Now that you’re Ethan and I’m Lanie, where do you think we should start? Obviously not with a doctor since I’m not actually pregnant. He might catch on rather quickly that we’re phonies.” Delanie laid her hand against her flat stomach, wondering what she’d look like with a protruding belly.

  “I’ve been weighing our possibilities all morning, and I think we should start with a stakeout of the list of suspected lawyers’ offices, figure out who’s getting a lot of visits from pregnant teens. We’ll pinpoint any expecting couples, follow them, and start up a conversation. You work on the women—I’ll take the men.”

  Delanie nodded. “Ask pointed questions and share our story.”

  “Exactly.”

  They joined about fifteen or twenty other soon-to-be diners waiting out front for the restaurant to open. Both grew quiet, knowing it was inappropriate to discuss a case within earshot of others. Delanie had an idea and decided to proceed with their role-playing. They’d have to practice to be believable as a young couple expecting a child. She crossed her arms over her midsection. “How can you even consider giving up your own flesh and blood?”

  A stunned expression crossed Eli’s face before understanding settled in. “I don’t have a job; we’ll soon be homeless. How can you consider bringing a baby into this rotten situation?”

  She thought about Julie Johnson losing not only her baby, but her life. Tears sprang to her eyes, which was exactly what she’d hoped for. Patting her stomach in a maternal way, she said, “Love is all a baby really needs.”

  “Lanie, what planet are you from? Babies also need diapers, formula, and a dry place to live.” Eli’s voice rose with each declaration.

  By now the crowd had grown silent. Most eyes were on them. Tears rolled down Delanie’s cheeks. She turned her back on Eli and crossed her arms again.

  Unexpectedly Eli slipped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled the side of her neck with his scruffy chin. Thrill-chills shot through her all the way to her toes. “Don’t cry, baby. It’ll be okay.” He spoke softly, tenderly. “We’ll figure something out. Please don’t cry.” Her knees felt like noodles, and she leaned against him for support.

  He turned her in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips. Her heart beat as if she’d jogged five miles at a quick pace. Dazed, Delanie couldn’t believe this was happening or how much she enjoyed his arms and his kiss. She stood staring into his face, trying to discern the emotions she saw there, trying to discern her own emotions.

  As quickly as he’d swept her into his arms, she backed away from him. “Our audience is gone.” Delanie glanced around; she and Eli were the only two left waiting next to the rock wall. Everyone else had entered the restaurant through the double wooden doors. Her face grew warm.

  She lowered her head and led the way into the restaurant, keeping her eyes on the floor tile. Luckily a table in the back remained open. Instead of taking her seat, she said, “Excuse me a moment.” Not even glancing in Eli’s direction, she quickly made her way to the restroom, hoping to compose herself. Once inside, Delanie leaned against the wall and covered her hot cheeks with her palms. What’s wrong with me? I cannot be attracted to him. I can’t! But I am. Staring in the mirror, she wished she could erase the “wide-eyed girl with stardust in her eyes” look.

  ❧

  Eli sucked in a deep breath. When he’d decided to toy with Delanie, he hadn’t realized the way it would affect him. Her innocence was obvious, and he knew she hailed from a staunch Christian family; so when he assumed her naive in the ways of a man and a woman, he’d been right. Her kiss was shy and uncertain. This girl wasn’t worldly wise. The stunned expression etched on her face at the end of the kiss spoke volumes, and she couldn’t get out of his arms fast enough.

  What shocked him was his own response. He’d enjoyed holding her, but even more startling, he had the urge to hold her forever—and he wasn’t a forever kind of guy. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Delanie Cooper, I won’t let you get to me.

  When she returned, he stood and pulled out the wooden chair with the padded seat. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” Her answer was short and clipped—her cheeks still flushed.

  He took the chair to Delanie’s right. Fairly certain their kiss had affected her even more than it had him, he decided he’d play it up and kiss her a
t every opportunity. Maybe then she’d ditch him and this job, and he could go back to his old unit, far away from her and those wide aquamarine eyes.

  Taking her hand in his, he leaned over, kissed her cheek, and whispered in her ear, “Remember what Sarge said about being 100 percent believable as a young couple in love?”

  Delanie nodded but remained tense. He smiled. His plan was working already.

  “You’re not playing your part very well,” he mocked, placing a light kiss on her very kissable mouth.

  She gave him a dirty look and picked up her menu. “I’m still mad at you for even suggesting we sell the baby.” She pushed him away. “Don’t act all ooey-gooey like that never happened.”

  The waitress arrived, and Delanie ordered the ground beef tacos. Eli followed her lead.

  “Good job on the mad girlfriend role,” Eli said softly.

  “Let’s talk about something else besides selling our baby, something more pleasant, or how about nothing at all?” Sarcasm laced her tone.

  “Fine,” Eli ground out. He needed to think anyway. Could he overdose Delanie on affection without risking himself? Every touch filled him with a longing for more. A longing for things he’d ages ago accepted he’d never have, never even wanted until now. Delanie Cooper made him wonder if his decision had been so easy because no woman had ever brought his senses to life the way she did.

  The waitress set two plates in front of them, and they ate their lunch in silence. Delanie seemed to have as many uncertainties as he faced, though he was sure his touch had repulsed her—a much different response from his own.

  After lunch they walked back to the police station not too far north of the restaurant. They found an empty interrogation room and spread out their files on a long table. Delanie settled in on one side, so Eli took the chair across from her.

  “You think we should start with a stakeout?” She still hadn’t made eye contact since the kiss.

  Eli nodded, forcing her to look up.

  “Tomorrow at nine?” She bit her bottom lip.

  He nodded again, noting the vulnerability in her eyes.

  Delanie flipped through the paperwork. “One of the suspects is in a downtown lawyers’ office. Do you want to meet here or there?”

  “Whatever,” he said with a shrug.

  Sarge rapped on the door once and joined them.

  “How’s the strategy coming?” He took the seat next to Delanie.

  Eli filled him in on their plan of action.

  “Sounds great. I knew the two of you would figure out something.” Sarge pulled his cell phone out of his shirt pocket, hit a number on the face of the phone, and put the tiny thing to his ear. He made arrangements for a car to be delivered the next morning for Eli and Delanie to use during the case. Standing, he said, “At 0800. I’ll see you then.” He exited, leaving them alone.

  Eli stared at Delanie. The reality of their situation hit him dead-on. Could she protect him if the need arose?

  “What?” she asked. “Are you hoping if you stare long enough, I’ll vanish?”

  He ignored her remark. “Someone in this ring owns a gun and isn’t afraid to use it.”

  “I know.” Her expression grew solemn.

  He rose and leaned over the table, taking an in-your-face stance. “Do you? Do you know? Can I count on you, Coop? This is a lot more than proving you can do whatever a guy can. Our lives are at stake. They killed at least one girl, and if we get too close, we might be their next target. Can you kill someone if you have to?”

  Her face turned white. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Panic rose inside Eli until he thought it might choke the breath out of him.

  “I can’t be out there tomorrow with someone who’s afraid. You need to get off this case right now!” Eli laid his right hand across his left shoulder. “I won’t go out there with another coward.”

  Delanie rose and glared at him. “Your opinion of women is awfully low. Not all of us are cowards.”

  “I saw the fear, Delanie, written all over your face!” Eli was now yelling.

  “I’m not afraid of my gun, nor am I afraid to use it,” she assured him in a hushed tone.

  “You can’t deny the terror I saw with my own eyes.”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid, Eli.” She hung her head for a quiet moment. When she raised it, he saw fire in her eyes. “Afraid I’ll have to kill another person. Afraid someone else will die because I’m doing my job.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she turned away from him.

  Is she saying she’s already killed someone?

  Before the words came out of his mouth, she was speaking again. This time there was no denying the pain woven through each word. “I’ve already killed someone, Eli—a nineteen-year-old kid in a convenience store robbery. He pointed a gun at the clerk, and I shot him.” She sucked in a ragged breath and faced him. “Are you happy? Does that knowledge make you feel safer with me? Is that what you want—to know your partner has already shot and killed another human being?”

  Sparks shot from her eyes. “I am not some women’s libber trying to prove I can do anything a man can do. I feel lucky to have been born in America—land of the free. I love this country. I love this city. What I do has nothing to do with proving anything. I just want to keep people safe. I want to keep another thirteen-year-old kid from living Julie Johnson’s nightmare.”

  Delanie stuffed her paperwork into the folder. Her hand shook slightly. She looked him square in the eyes. “So don’t you worry, Eli Logan. If I have to kill someone to keep you alive, I will. And I’ll hate the fact every day for the rest of my life.”

  She grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder. At the door she turned to face him. “I think you’re the one with the problem. You have some vendetta to prove that every female cop is incompetent. If I were a man, would you be having all these doubts? I think not! I’m sick of getting no respect because I’m a woman, because I’m small, because I’m the chief’s daughter, or because I’m not ugly. I’m a good cop, Detective Logan, and if you don’t believe it now, you will when we’re finished with this case.” She jerked the door open, then slammed it behind her.

  For several seconds Eli could only stare at the door, trying to process everything she’d said. He shook his head, gathered his things, and headed down the hall to Sarge’s office. The door stood ajar. Eli knocked once. Sarge glanced up from his paperwork.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Eli moved toward the green vinyl chair.

  “Tell you what?” Sarge shuffled through the pile of papers.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Delanie had shot someone? Do you know what a fool I made of myself?”

  Sarge shrugged. “I figured she’d tell you, if and when she wanted you to know.” He pulled a manila envelope from one of his desk drawers. “Take these home and read them. I want them back in the morning.”

  Eli reached for the envelope.

  “See you at eight—and close my door, will you?” Sarge dismissed him.

  Eli did as he was told, heading back to the interrogation room he’d recently vacated. He dumped the contents of the envelope onto the folding table. Several newspaper articles spilled out—every one about Delanie Cooper and her heroic actions in the robbery. She’d received a citation from the department and was labeled a hero.

  Great. Not only was she beautiful, appealing, and intelligent; now he also had to recognize her abilities as a cop. He didn’t want to like her or respect her or admire her, but in two days she’d managed to make him guilty of all three.

  And tomorrow her presence would wreak havoc on his already confused emotions.

  Chapter 4

  Shaking with anger, Delanie left Eli to draw his own conclusions. She practically ran to her car—escaping the man who caused her emotions to soar to heights and then drop to valleys she’d never known before. And all in the span of a few short hours.

  She hopped into her little car, opened the sunroof, and hoped the wind would carry her woes aw
ay. Gulping deep breaths, she wanted to exhale the anger she’d allowed to overcome her. Taking the on-ramp, she shifted into fifth and merged onto I-80.

  “I’m sorry, God.” She blew out a noisy breath. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been that mad.” But somehow she knew that the handful of times she’d been truly livid, work was always at the center. More precisely, someone questioning her ability as a cop. “How long will it take? I’ve been doing the job well for six years, yet no one believes I can.”

  Exiting at McCarran Boulevard, she followed a pickup until she hung a left at Mayberry Drive. A couple of blocks later she pulled into Mayberry Townhomes. She’d grown to love living alone. Well—almost alone. Hank, a retired police dog, and Junie B. Jones, a miniature beagle, resided with her. Or perhaps they allowed her to reside with them.

  Thinking of her two buddies made her smile, and some of the anger dissipated. Delanie turned into her garage under the two-story town house and heard Junie’s welcoming yelp. Junie and Hank would be waiting impatiently to greet her. She climbed the stairs inside her garage that led to her utility room. True to form, her dogs greeted her with wagging tails and leashes in their mouths as she entered the house. Dropping her purse on the washing machine, she knelt and scratched both dogs behind their ears. Hank rolled over on his back for a belly rub. Delanie grabbed both leashes and flung them over one shoulder.

  “How did you two know it’s time for our jog?” Delanie asked, starting toward the bedroom. Both of her furry roommates followed. She quickly changed her clothes, tied the laces of her running shoes, and snapped the two leashes onto the dog collars. Junie always made a game of the task, dancing and dodging her master as if she dreaded the daily jog. Once outside, Delanie did a few stretches, loosening her tight muscles. Today she needed the run more than most days and started at a quick pace, hoping to destress and decompress.

  She always ran down South McCarran to Coughlin Ranch. The upscale housing community featured several jogging trails and nature walks, giving the impression of leaving “the biggest little city in the world” a million miles behind. While out there with her dogs and God, she could forget the casinos, the crime, and maybe even Eli. This was her time alone to focus on her Lord and the wonderful world He’d created.