Man Without A Badge Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Copyright

  “How’d you get that scar?”

  “Some people might call that question nosy.” He towered over her desk.

  Marly refused to be intimidated. “Some people might not be trying to protect themselves.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “From me?”

  “If necessary. Is it necessary, Sam?”

  His smile was lethal. No doubt she was going to dream about those dark brown eyes.

  “Nope. But I assume your bedroom door has a lock?”

  The question shocked her. That was probably exactly what he intended, she realized. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  He regarded her with a naughty expression that sent inexplicable tingles of excitement singing through her body. “Is it working?” he asked.

  Dear Reader,

  They’ re rugged, the/re strong and they’re wanted! Whether sheriff, undercover cop or officer of the court, these men are trained to keep the peace, to uphold the law. But what happens when they meet the one woman who gets to know the man behind the badge?

  Twelve of these men are on the loose…and only Harlequin Intrigue brings them to you—one per month in the LAWMAN series. This month meet cop-on-therun Sam Moore in Man Without a Badge, by relative newcomer Dani Sinclair.

  More than twenty-nine years ago Dani promised her fiance their lives would never be dull. He claims she’s kept her promise. Five years ago her sister caught Dani between career moves and demanded she finally write a book. Dani isn’t sure this is how careers are supposed to be born, but she’s delighted to throw all the blame on her sister. Dani lives with her husband and two grown sons in a small suburb in Maryland outside Washington, D.C. Man Without a Badge is Dani’s second Harlequin Intrigue novel.

  “Take a sizzling attraction, sprinkle it with humor and add a dash of mystery. That’s my idea of cooking.”

  Good thing her family likes to eat out.

  Be sure you don’t miss Sam’s exciting story—or any of the LAWMAN books coming to you in the months ahead…because there’s nothing sexier than the strong arms of the law!

  Regards,

  Debra Matteucci

  Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator

  Harlequin Books

  300 East 42nd Street

  New York, New York 10017

  Man Without a Badge

  Dani Sinclair

  To three special ladies: Cynthia C. Parker, Courtney Henke and Laura DeVries who helped in special ways. And always, for Roger, Chip, Dan and Barb with love.

  Acknowledgments

  Jim Tremé and the staff of the Blue Ridge Arsenal in Virginia, for their patience with my many questions.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Joseph Samuel Walker/Sam Moore—His future hangs on the word of a missing eleven-year-old boy.

  Marly Kramer—She just wants to run her horse farm and operate a program for disadvantaged youths. Too bad her neighbors want her out of business.

  Alan Rayback—He had the misfortune to be murdered.

  George Brent—As police captain, he won’t make exceptions for anyone—not even his longtime friend Joe Walker.

  Bill Porterfield—His work off the force with disadvantaged kids is legendary, but his own children have braces and his wife wants to go to Hawaii—how badly does he need money?

  Lee Garvey—He has a flawless police record, but he also has a greedy ex-wife.

  Johnny Duncan—As a police officer, he’s swom to serve and protect, but he doesn’t like having problem kids on his turf.

  Carter Delancy—He considers Marly his personal property. Would he kill to protect what he sees as his own?

  Jake—The crusty cowboy watches Marly through narrowed eyes.

  Emma—There isn’t much that gets by this housekeeper’s watchful eyes.

  The kids—Chris, Donald, Hector, Jerome, Mickey and Zeke. One of them holds the key to Joe’s future.

  Prologue

  Fear sat like an uninvited guest, isolating the small corner table from the rest of the noisy bar.

  “I’m telling you, internal affairs will be crawling all over us first thing in the morning.” Porterfield stared at the glum faces surrounding him.

  Joe shut his eyes, picked up his glass and drained the contents. He blotted his carefully tended mustache with the paper napkin and laid it on the table. The beer, warm now, sat heavily on his abused stomach. Automatically he opened his eyes and reached into his tailored shirt pocket for the ever-present roll of antacid tablets.

  Lee slammed down his empty glass, and his handsome face turned ugly with the ferocity of his scowl. A litany of invective rolled past his lips.

  “Take it easy,” Joe advised.

  Porterfield used two fingers to massage his temple. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Silvers sighed and reached for a handful of pretzels. “What difference does it make, man? We’d all know about it come morning.”

  “Why are they after us?” Lee demanded. “We had probable cause, and enough evidence to bring Rayback down. The bust was textbook.”

  Porterfield shook his head, his spectacles reflecting the neon light over the bar. “Had is the operative word. Somebody got into the evidence room. The money’s gone.”

  Joe’s stomach tightened another notch. “What do you mean, somebody?”

  Porterfield stopped rubbing his temple. “Five of us signed in.”

  Silvers swallowed a pretzel. “Who’s the fifth?”

  “The captain.”

  The two words hung suspended in the air, alongside the fear. The four men slid glances around the room, trying not to stare at one another.

  “That’s nuts,” Lee said suddenly. “We work our tails off to make this bust stick and they think one of us stole the evidence?”

  “Fifty thousand in cash is a lot of money,” Joe said quietly.

  “You confessing?” Porterfield asked with a droll grin.

  “Nope. I’m just saying if the money is missing, the captain had no choice but to call Internal Affairs.”

  “Did you know about it, Joe?” Lee asked.

  Joe shook his head. “He and I may be friends, but you know the captain. No preferential treatment. He always plays by the rules.”

  “Maybe the captain took it. Maybe he needed money for those old cars he’s always fixing up.”

  “Yeah. He’s been actin’ like a bear with a sore paw for weeks lately. Must be woman trouble.” Silvers grabbed another handful of pretzels. “That wife of his is some kinda looker.”

  “Knock it off,” Lee rebuked.

  Porterfield grinned. “Well, I only hope he shares the wealth with us poor working stiffs. I’ve got two kids in braces and a wife who wants to vacation in Hawaii.”

  “It isn’t one of us,” Silvers stated. He pushed back his chair and stood. “I gotta get home or LaTisha will skin my sorry hide. We got nothin’ to hide an’ nothin’ to fear.”

  Maybe so, but Joe knew they were all scared. Careers were at stake here. Word would get out. IA would put them under a microscope, and suddenly four good cops would start looking at o
ne another with suspicion instead of trust.

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah.” Lee nodded. “Want to go get a bite to eat?”

  Joe shook his head. He didn’t want company. He needed to work off this new frustration. “I think I’ll head over to the gym for a while.”

  Bill Porterfield stood and patted his pudgy stomach. “Do a few sit-ups for me while you’re at it, will you? The wife just started me on a new diet, and I’m hating life.”

  The other three smiled. Bill and his wife’s diets were legendary. Tonight, the diets provided a welcome source of humor as the men parted company in the parking lot.

  Two hours later, Joe was still tense, but now he was also hot, sweaty and hungry. He took a quick shower, trying to pull his thoughts away from Porterfield’s revelation. As he dressed, he chatted with two of the guys from vice who were just coming in. Tomorrow, word would spread. Tomorrow, these same two men would give him a wide berth out of fear for their own careers, and it would stay that way until the investigation was concluded. Distracted, Joe snapped his small holster into place, reached for his jacket and fumbled for his keys. Food no longer held any appeal.

  The city streets were still damp and slick from the earlier rain. He ignored the lit monuments as he drove past them, scanning the empty sidewalks out of habit. An accident had blocked the ramp leading to the Beltway, so he decided to take the scenic route through Rock Creek Park. A rumble of thunder added the perfect touch. More rain. It suited his mood.

  Because he wasn’t really looking for anything, he went past the parked car before its distinctive license plate registered in the back of his mind.

  RAYBACK.

  Only Rayback was under lock and key. How had he gotten sprung so fast? And what the hell was he doing in Rock Creek Park at this hour? It took Joe a quarter of a mile to find a spot to turn around.

  He lifted the car phone, then hesitated. The threat of IA was making him paranoid. He knew he should call for backup, but he replaced the phone in its holder.

  Backup because Rayback is taking a walk in a public park?

  No, backup because whatever Rayback was doing in this park, a few miles from the police station, would have nothing to do with walking and probably everything to do with the reason IA was coming in the morning.

  Joe pulled in alongside the other car. It was locked and empty. Even as he called himself ten kinds of fool, he was headed down the path, unbuttoning his jacket as he went.

  The indistinct sound of angry voices soon slowed his pace as another warning rumble of thunder sounded overhead. The same darkness that provided protection for him would offer concealment for Rayback and anyone else in this wooded section.

  Trees and shrubs parted abruptly for a narrow clearing. Only Rayback’s distinctive white hair made it possible to spot him at all. Joe couldn’t make out the other person, deep in the shadows of a large pine tree. He edged closer. As he pulled his gun free of its holster, he stopped in utter shock. It wasn’t his gun.

  What the hell?

  A twig snapped to his left. He brought the semiautomatic in line with the sound, pulled back the slide, and just barely stopped himself from squeezing the trigger. A pair of wide, serious eyes stared back at him. The kid couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve.

  “Don’t shoot me, mister!”

  Three shots rang out in quick succession.

  Joe spun, to see Rayback crumpling to the ground.

  “Police! Freeze!”

  Even as the words left his lips, Joe knew it was too late. The gunman had heard the boy cry out. His weapon spit another stream of fire. Joe squeezed his own trigger and belatedly realized there was no cartridge in the clip.

  Thunder exploded in his ear. White-hot pain took him to the cold, damp ground. His last conscious thought was that he hoped the boy had run.

  Chapter One

  Sunlight glinted off the blade of the knife. The boy went into a crouch and circled his opponent.

  “Jerome, put that down this minute. You won’t settle anything like this.” Tension choked Marly’s voice. Jerome didn’t spare her a glance. His eleven-year-old eyes stayed fixed on the other boy.

  “Mickey, tell him where his watch is.” Real fear pierced her, much sharper than the blade of the knife her charge was holding. It was a good bet Jerome hadn’t heard her words. For certain he wasn’t going to obey them. She was going to have to take the knife away from him herself.

  “You’re holdin’ it all wrong, kid.”

  The soft drawl sliced across the scene, freezing everyone in the noonday sun. Marly lifted her head in surprise to see a stranger lounging against the fender of her pickup truck. Not just any stranger. Every woman’s fantasy cowboy, come to life. From his scuffed boots to his formfitting work jeans to the denim jacket and the chambray work shirt open at the neck, he exuded a masculine strength that trapped her breath in her throat. A dusty duffel bag sat on the ground at his feet, and a black cowboy hat was pulled low over his brow.

  He used his index finger to push the brim upward a notch as he came off the fender in a fluid movement that riveted her senses. Suddenly, a wicked blade gleamed in his hand, as well.

  Mickey and Jerome turned to stone, fixated on the deadly knife in the stranger’s hand. Marly wanted to swallow, but her tight throat wouldn’t oblige her.

  There was an aura of quiet danger about the man. Unlike Jerome, he held his knife as if he knew what to do with it and had done it often.

  “You pull a knife on someone, you’d better know how to use it, kid. Pull your arm in closer to your body, like this.” He went into a menacing crouch.

  From somewhere, Marly found her voice. Quaking with fright, she placed herself between the stranger and her boys. “Put that away.” Amazingly, the command came out firm and controlled. She refused to let him see her fear, but its metallic taste filled her mouth.

  The knife disappeared in a blur of motion, and the stranger stood erect. “Yes, ma’am. Didn’t mean to scare you.” His easy drawl sent goose bumps up and down her arms. His glance moved past her, to the two boys at her back. “Seems to me if a man’s gonna pull a weapon, he’d better be prepared for the consequences.”

  His long stride placed him within touching distance. Putting away the knife had done nothing to diminish her sense of danger. If anything, it was now more acute than ever. She could scream, but help was too far away. Still, she needed to protect the boys.

  He watched her in silence. There was a day’s growth of beard on that firm jaw and, looking up, she saw that his eyes were brown. A dark liquid brown, warm and safe.

  Safe? Marly shook her head at the bizarre notion and the spell was broken. The stranger stepped around her and placed a hand on Jerome’s thin, bony arm still holding the small blade.

  “In against your body like this,” he told the boy, positioning the arm. “That way, your opponent can’t come in under you. You ever knife somebody, kid?”

  Wide eyes stared up at the stranger with a mixture of awe and fear. Slowly the boy’s wiry head moved from side to side.

  “Didn’t think so.” The man rested a gentle hand on Jerome’s shoulder. “It isn’t pretty what a knife can do. Messy, too. Knife wounds bleed like hell.”

  Marly was sure his words came from experience.

  His head tipped toward Mickey. “You figure bein’ scarred for life is worth a watch, kid?”

  Mickey’s twelve-year-old head lifted defiantly, but Marly saw the fear in his clear blue eyes. “I ain’t scared.”

  “Then you’re a fool.”

  “I don’t got his damn watch.”

  “Mickey!” Marly exclaimed. The situation was spiraling out of control. The stranger was making it worse. She could have handled things if he hadn’t interrupted.

  “Well, I don’t,” Mickey insisted, his eyes fixed on the stranger. “The squirt here set it up there on the railing this morning.” Mickey nodded toward the porch that wrapped around two-thirds of the old farmhouse.

&n
bsp; Jerome started toward the porch, but Marly scooted in front of him and held out her hand. “The knife.”

  Rebellious eyes met hers. He gave his head a quick shake. “No way, man.”

  Her words of admonishment went unspoken as that soft drawl took over.

  “That’s two more things you’d better learn, kid. When to obey a direct order, and how to treat a lady. The first will make life easier. The second will make life real enjoyable. She’s a ma’am, not a man.”

  Frissons of awareness skated through her body at his husky words. There was no mistaking his meaning about life being enjoyable. Marly straightened, aware of his gaze on the thrust of her breasts against her plaid shirt. Before she could think of a reply, he turned back to Jerome.

  “Give her the knife, kid. Later on, I’ll show you a better use for it.”

  “Now just a min—”

  “It’s mine,” Jerome told them defiantly.

  “Nobody’s disputin’ it, kid. But the lady’s in control right now. You’ll get it back.” He tossed her a measuring look. “Won’t he?”

  Marly blinked. She could almost hear his silent command to back him up. “Yes, of course. But—”

  “See there?”

  Long seconds crawled by. Reluctantly Jerome closed the blade and laid it in her palm. He started to turn away, but the stranger’s voice nailed him again. “I think you owe your adversary an apology.”

  Jerome shook his head. “Not till I find my watch.”

  The stranger’s lips lifted at the corner. He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Fair enough.”

  “I’ll show you where you left it,” Mickey said suddenly.

  The two boys eyed one another before Jerome nodded and the taller, beefier Mickey turned and headed for the front porch. Marly spun to face the big man before the boys were even out of hearing distance. “Just who do you think you are?”