“We need to talk, Officer Roberts.”

“I have to go. It’s a family matter. It has nothing to do with this case, Sergeant.”

Nick wanted to believe her. The problem was the fear he saw in her dark brown eyes. “What does it have to do with, then?”

Sarah looked around uncomfortably. “My sister’s…safety. I can’t talk about it.”

“Not here, you mean? Not to me?”

She looked him in the eye and he knew something was wrong. “Just trust me—you don’t need to know.”

Nick felt the knife in his back again. Except this petite woman was standing right in front of him. “You’re leaving before finishing reports. I’d say I need to know. You may have FBI credentials, but it’s my duty to make sure you know how to survive on the streets. And I can assure you a distracted police officer may be a danger to herself and her partner.”

The silence between them lengthened. Her voice softened. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” She glanced up at him. “Never.”

CAROL STEWARD

To Carol Steward, selling a book is much like riding a roller coaster—every step of the process, every sale brings that exhilarating high. During the less exciting times, she’s busy gathering ideas and refilling her cup. Writing brings a much-needed balance to her life, since she has her characters share lessons she has learned, as well.

When she’s not working at the University of Northern Colorado, you can usually find her spending time with her husband of over thirty years, writing and thanking God she survived raising her own three children, to reap His rewards of playing with her adorable grandchildren.

Throughout all the different seasons of life, God has continued to teach Carol to turn to Him. She has also learned to simplify her life and appreciate her many blessings—His gift of creativity, sharing her love for God with readers and setting an example of what God can do when we say, “Yes, God, take me, shape me, use me.” To find out more about Carol’s slightly crazy life and her books, visit her Web site at www.carolsteward.com.

Badge of Honor
Carol Steward

MILLS & BOON

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For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps. He committed no sin; no guile was found on his lips. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he trusted to him who judged justly.

—I Peter 2:21–23

This book could not have come together without the support of many dear friends and loved ones. First, for understanding that it kills me to miss the chance to spend time with all of you. Know that you’re always near my thoughts, even when I’m writing. You’ll see what I mean. Second, for not only understanding, but helping me through the rough spots, whether it’s cooking dinner—again—or a massage, or helping me throw out a scene and make it better. You’re all the greatest inspiration I could ever ask for.

Again, to my editor, Melissa—I can’t thank you enough.

To my wonderful husband, Dave. Thanks for taking

a chance on me and never letting me give up on my

dreams. Thirty years and counting!

To my daughter, Sarah, and her husband, who are

both a true blessing to me, and whose real-life

determination to forever live up to being the oldest

breathed life into a cookie-cutter character.

God bless you both.

CONTENTS

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Nick Matthews marched into the precinct, a wave of silence rippling in his wake. His life had changed forever. Even here, with the men and women who had been his friends and defended his life, the shadow of doubt tainted his return. He wouldn’t be able to repair the damage to his honor overnight, but he wasn’t about to walk away.

Fighting crime was his life.

Nick noticed a petite woman walk into the building next to him and turned to investigate. Opening the door to the administrative wing of the police station, he held it as she hurried through.

“Thank you,” she said, tossing her full hair over her shoulder.

He nodded, trying to turn off the guilt of admiring a pretty woman. He wasn’t committed to anyone anymore. Ronda had taken care of that with one swift judgment.

With his conscience cleared, Nick turned to introduce himself, stopped when the FBI seal on her navy polo shirt stole his interest.

His adrenaline kicked into high gear, like it did when he was working a case. Why was the FBI here? What was she investigating? Or should he ask who?

Before he could say anything, she turned down the hall toward the shift commander’s office and disappeared without another word.

Nick entered the men’s locker room preoccupied with thoughts of the woman in the FBI shirt. As he made his way through, he heard someone say, “There was another assault last night.”

Nick listened, wondering if they had a serial criminal on their streets. Maybe that was why “Miss FBI” was here.

“Was it the same M.O. as the rape last spring…?” The officer’s voice faded the minute he saw Nick.

“No, didn’t get that far. Three students walked by and scared him off.” The lower voice was easy to identify. Jared Daniels.

Steeling himself against the dreaded silence, Nick wondered how the chief thought returning to patrol duty rather than to his position as detective would build trust again. But Nick didn’t voice his questions. Those were his orders.

“Hey there, Matthews, welcome back,” Officer Jeremy Logan said as he walked past.

Nick nodded. “Thanks, Jeremy. It’s good to be here.” He fielded a greeting or two, and more than a few skeptical glares from other officers. No one wanted to be associated with a troublemaker, let alone a cop suspected of being on the take. Lockers clanged shut as the whispers turned to silence. One by one, a half-dozen men slipped out of the room in quick succession.

He silently repeated Isaiah 43:2, the verse that had gotten him through this ordeal. “When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you: your troubles will not overwhelm you.” Some days, like today, Nick questioned how much tribulation God thought he could handle. His own opinion was obviously very different from God’s.

Opening his locker, Nick took a quick inventory.

He hadn’t been in here for weeks, and hadn’t worn his uniform since he’d moved to the investigative unit three years ago.

Ignoring the silence was impossible.

These officers had been like family. He couldn’t believe any one of them would think he’d have gone along with anyone on the force selling confiscated drugs. Worse yet was the implication that three officers had been involved in the underground drug ring. So if it wasn’t Nick, they were still looking for one more culprit.

Nick noticed Sean Randall hurry in, stopping to open a locker nearby.

“Hey, Matthews, how’re you doing?” he asked, as if he’d forgotten Nick wore a scarlet letter on his badge.

“Doing okay,” he said simply. He wasn’t about to jump in and make the same mistakes again. Figuring out who he could trust was going to take time, no matter how good a detective he’d been. He couldn’t interrogate each of his colleagues.

Time.

Patience.

Prayers.

Vic Taylor and Jed Tate had been convicted and were awaiting sentencing. Even with the promise of a lighter sentence, they wouldn’t give up any other names, which left a whole lot of suspicion running rampant.

Nick didn’t want to believe another officer on the force was involved. That those two had been working drug cases, forming a drug ring, was unbelievable.

He had to get to the bottom of this.

This is not a demotion. It’s not even discipline. Much as he tried to convince himself of that, it wasn’t working.

He pinned his badge and name tag to the shirt, then began putting on the required layers for traffic officers. The Kevlar vest and uniform shirt weren’t nearly as comfortable as his plainclothes uniform, and he was pretty sure they hadn’t been this snug last time he’d patrolled the streets, either.

Nick took the shirt off, checked for his name on the label ironed to the collar, to be sure someone hadn’t switched them. When had he put on weight? He tugged the shirt across his chest to button it. He’d need to order the next size larger—soon. That, or buy a thinner vest. With the gang activity in the area on the rise, he wasn’t about to take that chance. He sucked in and fastened the shirt, praying it held through the shift. I look like a body builder trying to look buff, he thought. Just what I need tonight.

“Put on a little weight since you left the streets, huh, Matthews?” Sean said with a laugh. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “It’s all muscle. I’ve been working out in my time off.”

“Yeah,” Randall muttered, “Me, too. My wife says it’s sympathy weight. She expects me to lose it as soon as the baby arrives.”

“Your wife is pregnant?”

“That’s right,” Sean bragged. “Our first.”

“Congratulations.” Nick was stunned that Sean continued the conversation. He’d expected total silence. “When’s the big day?”

“Doc says December 8. We’ll see. Noelle’s showing already.” The officer practically blushed as Nick chuckled. Sean finished dressing and closed his locker. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Yeah, take it easy.” Nick made the necessary adjustments to his duty belt, adding his handcuffs, baton and flashlight rings before making his way to the briefing room. He sat in the back row, trying to lie low. Hushed voices dropped to a deafening silence the minute he took his seat.

Nick knew what they were going through. He even knew what they were thinking. He’d never known what to say when an officer came back after being disciplined for breaking policy. Now he knew how it felt to be the one no one wanted to get too close to. He looked around, trying to place names with the new faces. He was pretty sure Captain Thomas had said his trainee was a female officer. There were two women here he didn’t recognize. The FBI agent was nowhere in sight.

When the shift commander entered the room and stopped to say hello, Nick’s hopes of staying invisible were blown to smithereens. He fought the urge not to slump in his chair, as he had in high school when a teacher embarrassed him by calling on him when he’d walked into class after the bell.

“Let’s welcome Nick back to street patrol,” the commander said, obviously trying to break the awkward tension in the room. “Congratulations on the outcome, Sergeant Matthews.” That ominous cloud of silence broke when two officers joined the commander’s clapping, and the rest reluctantly followed.

Once the murmur of voices returned to normal, the commander began the briefing. “We have changes to the Field Training Officer assignments. Sarah Roberts,” he said as a deafening silence took over the room again. Thomas motioned toward the front row, where the petite woman who had walked in with Nick, stood, barely clearing the heads of the men sitting behind her. Her dark hair was neatly braided and she looked like a teenager waiting for a growth spurt to befall her. “Officer Roberts comes to Fossil Creek with ten years of FBI field experience. You’ll spend the next four weeks training with your FTO Sergeant Matthews.”

Nick figured every officer in the room was thinking the same thing he was—that Nick Matthews had a new watchdog.

Despite the annoyance, he nodded as Officer Roberts’s glance met his. It can’t be the same Sarah Roberts who went to Fossil Creek High, could it? As she took her seat, Nick struggled to focus on taking notes for the night’s shift, BOLOs, outstanding warrants and cases to be mindful of—mainly the assault case from the night before. He struggled to keep his mind from drifting to the cute twin sister of his old basketball teammate.

He refused to look again. He forced himself to focus on the briefing as Captain Thomas went into detail on the BOLO.

“Be on the lookout for any suspicious activity near the campus,” the captain explained as Nick struggled to link Sarah’s assignment to the assault case.

“…second assault in the vicinity of the university last night. Suspect is described as five-ten, Caucasian, brown hair and medium build. It occurred between nine and ten last night near the fine arts building off Pine Street and Gateway Place. The university police have asked us to provide assistance with additional patrols of the area. This assault has several similarities to the rape that occurred last April. All units in that area double your patrols on the university perimeter until further notice.”

Nick’s mind wandered again, and he found himself wishing he was the detective on the case. Sitting on the fringes had never been his strength. But there was never a dull moment in a city of almost a hundred twenty thousand—thirty thousand more when the university was in session. Patrolling the streets had its perks, he realized—more action, fewer dead ends than in investigations. And it would be a lot more difficult to find out if someone still had it in for him.

After the briefing, he waited at the door to meet Officer Roberts. The majority of their colleagues used the opposite door, thus avoiding the need to address Nick.

“Nick Matthews,” Sarah said confidently, as she stopped next to him and looked up. Her brown eyes, framed with long, dark lashes and high arched eyebrows, were filled with intrigue and intelligence, he noted as he offered his hand.

She was even shorter than she’d looked earlier and even prettier than she had been in high school. He’d guess she was just over five feet tall, the bulkiness of the Kevlar vest and boxy uniform slacks hiding any semblance of a womanly figure. Her face was a dead giveaway, however. Totally feminine. Her full lips would have been too much on most faces, but fit perfectly with her square jaw. He imagined she wore her hair in a thick braid because of the job. She probably didn’t remember him—he’d been two years younger.

She looked him over once and nodded. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too.” He didn’t want to think about what she meant by “finally.”

How long were people going to question his word? His actions? His honor? And how was he supposed to erase that shadow of doubt two crooked officers had placed on his badge, when his superiors assigned a former FBI agent to be his new partner? Heavenly Father, help me put the past behind me and move forward.

TWO

Sarah saw the look of doubt in Nick’s eyes. Whether it was skepticism that anyone so petite could be counted on as backup, or her experience with the FBI that he was upset about, she wasn’t sure. She’d been in Fossil Creek for little over a month, and not one person yet seemed to believe she’d willingly left the Federal Bureau of Investigations to become a street officer. Sarah was growing tired of trying to prove herself.

“I’m sorry to ask to keep you waiting, but I really need to talk to the captain. I wasn’t able to catch him earlier,” she said, looking Nick in the eye. “It should only take a few minutes. Do you mind?”

He shrugged. “Be my guest.”

She walked into their superior’s office and closed the door. “Captain Thomas, do you have a minute?”

“Of course, my door’s always open. I got your message on my way into the courtroom this morning. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your sister’s attack last night. Is she okay?”

Sarah nodded. “She’s pretty shaken up, but thankfully, the group of students came along and startled the suspect before he did anything more than scare her.”

The captain frowned. “You don’t have to stay and work tonight, if she wants you with her.”

Sarah thanked him, but declined the offer. “She already had plans with a group of friends…. She thinks if she just goes on as usual, she’ll be able to forget it happened. She doesn’t want me hovering over her as a reminder.”

“Well, if she does need you, call me personally. I’ll make sure it’s kept quiet,” he stated.

“I wanted to thank you for not revealing that last night’s victim was my sister.”

“I wouldn’t have, anyway,” Thomas assured her. “But if at any point it becomes necessary to the investigation, you need to be prepared to talk to the detectives.”

“Of course. I don’t want anyone to think the case is getting preferential treatment because of me, but more than that, I want this guy caught and the charges to stick. If there’s anything I can do to help the detectives catch him, just let me know.” Sarah wasn’t certain exactly how she was going to overcome the urge to take charge, but somehow she needed to stay out of it.

Captain Thomas nodded. “Right now, I think it’s best to keep details as quiet as possible. The detectives are still trying to figure out if there is any connection between the rape last spring and your sister’s attack. I’m curious about something, though. Didn’t Detective Wang recognize you at the hospital?”

“He didn’t seem to, sir.”

Thomas looked at her, clearly puzzled. “Well, since he hasn’t, we may as well let it play out naturally. I’m trusting you to stay out of the investigation, Roberts.”

Sarah nodded. Somehow, she’d do it. “Definitely. In the investigator’s defense, I’d like to say I make every effort to not look like a police officer when I’m off duty.” She forced a smile that she didn’t feel.

The captain laughed. “I’m going to have to push their observation skills a bit then. Maybe I could enlist your assistance, after the investigation is over.”

Sarah studied her superior officer, not sure if he was serious or joking. “I have one more concern. It seems that my experience with the Bureau is a source of contention. It’s not my imagination, is it?”

He shook his head. “Given time, the other officers will realize we’re lucky to have you as one of us. I’m afraid the drug ring has set lots of imaginations running wild. No matter what we say, half the department is convinced we’re still looking for another player in it.”

“Time heals all wounds.” She put her hand on the doorknob and paused. “Thank you for giving me a chance, Captain Thomas. Most places I applied threw out my application on the FBI merit alone. It’s nice to be here in a smaller department.”

“Their loss is Fossil Creek’s gain. We need some new blood here. The drug ring made that very apparent. Now get out there and kick some life into Matthews, would you?”

Sarah found Nick Matthews leaning against the doorway to the officers lounge down the stairs, watching the latest news report of her sister’s assault. “Have they mentioned the victim’s name?” she asked him.

“Nah, they won’t,” he said, stepping forward. “Even the press has standards. Victim’s rights are one of them. We ready to hit the streets?”

She nodded, noting he was taller than she remembered from high school. Ten years had changed both of them, she realized. His shirt looked two sizes too small, not that she minded. She just hoped it made it through the night without tearing.

Sarah went to get the police cruiser key from the board, and noticed it was gone. She turned to him. “You driving?”

“Nope, we’ll see where Sergeant Donovan left off with your training.” Matthews tossed the key to her, and she felt the butterflies in her stomach performing aerial stunts as he checked out an assault rifle from the gun vault. She followed, selecting her own.

“Great,” she muttered as she inspected the car, securing their rifles and a ticket can in the trunk, while he scrutinized her every move. Her rotation with the first trainer had been a continuous reminder of the lesson she’d learned the hard way at the FBI—that men didn’t like bossy women, whether it be at home or work. Nothing had been more difficult than discovering competency and self-reliance scared the marrying kind of man away, almost as fast as hearing she was a special agent for the FBI. “Suggestions?”

“Nope.”

She got into the car and radioed dispatch that they were on duty and heading toward their assigned region of town. Thirty minutes later, Nick still hadn’t said anything; he just silently scribbled on his notepad.

Sarah was getting desperate for some chatter, to the extent of being tempted to ask if he remembered her from high school. Anything to take her mind off Beth’s attack and what he was writing down. Her sister refused to talk about it, and Nick didn’t seem anxious to share, either. Don’t get pushy. Just do your job….

Dispatch interrupted her thoughts. “Silent alarm at Citizen’s Bank on the corner of Birch and First Street.”

“Three-eighteen copy,” Sarah said, then put the mike back into the clip and turned toward the bank.

“It’s not our area,” Nick argued. “We serve as backup if needed.”

Just as Nick predicted, the dispatcher sent another officer to respond, then added, “Three-eighteen stand by to back up if needed.”

She could see the corner of Nick’s mouth twitch.

“It’s only a block from our border,” she said, trying to sound compliant. “I just thought we could help….”

“If it were a block farther east, we could respond.

They’ll call if they need backup, so stay in the area, in case. A little different from what you’re used to, huh?”

She didn’t need to get into an argument on her first night with a new training officer. She put the safety on her mouth before her attitude got her into trouble. “The FBI didn’t serve as first responders on many calls, period.”

“You miss it?”

“I was ready for a change. I always liked Fossil Creek, and with my sister in graduate school here, I decided it was a sign when I saw they were hiring.”

“How long did your family live in Colorado?” he asked, sounding more like a detective than a partner.

As if he couldn’t be less interested if he tried.

“Ten years,” she said, expecting him to ask the same question everyone else did—why had she left the FBI for a local police department? Nick didn’t say anything, and the silence was deafening. She had to talk about something job related before she started worrying and talking about Beth. Experience and instinct told her she could trust Nick Matthews, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to open up yet. She tried making conversation, to no avail. “I’m a little surprised to hear Fossil Creek is having such an explosion of gang and drug problems.”

“Yeah, Greeley PD had to start a gang task force. They cracked down and pushed the gangs out. Now they’re our problem. We need to give them a swift kick out of town, too, before they have a chance to get established here. Fortunately, they’re not as organized as the West Coast gangs. Ours are mostly family and territory battles.”

“What about the drugs?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and Sarah realized she’d just put her foot in her mouth.

“Oh, I didn’t mean…That came out wrong. Forget I said anything,” she begged. “Nick, I’m sorry.”

“Our drug task force does a great job. They work with the DEA and other Colorado agencies to get a leg up on the growing problems.”

She felt blood rush to her face. “I didn’t mean anything personal….”

Before she could continue, dispatch interrupted. “Three-eighteen, backup at Citizen’s Bank. Suspect seen in back of the bank on foot, wearing a dark green shirt and baseball cap, Caucasian, dark hair, nylon stocking over his face. Headed toward University Drive.”

“Three-eighteen copy,” Sarah responded, happy to have something put a little distance between her and Nick. She turned on the flashing lights and siren and headed toward University Drive.

“Take the alley, just past the bus stop sign on the right,” Nick instructed. “He’s not going to stay on a main road if he’s running.”

“He could have a car or driver waiting.”

“There’s no parking on University. Take the alley,” Nick ordered.

She made a last-minute turn into the laneway, annoyed to be given a command. Even more annoyed when he proved her wrong. She hurried toward the taillights of an orange car.

The suspect was stuffing a duffel bag into the passenger-side window and looked up, shocked to see them. He dived headfirst after the bag. The driver took off before his accomplice had pulled his legs inside.

Sarah called dispatch. “Suspect dived into a 1970 SS 454 Chevelle, Nebraska plates, William-Lincoln-Boy 783. That’s WLB 783,” she repeated. She followed with her lights flashing as the car sped away. If no one had been hurt at the bank, and no money taken, there was likely no need to risk the citizenry’s safety with a high-speed pursuit. Sarah was hesitant to force a chase through rush hour traffic. “He’s not going to wait for authorization from the shift commander. Do I pursue?”

Nick started to tell her about a shortcut.

“I know my way around Fossil Creek, Sergeant Matthews. I used to live here.” She pressed the accelerator a bit harder, hoping slow and steady could win this race. “Which officer went into the bank?”

Her partner spoke into his cell phone. “What do we have at the bank? Any injuries?” He paused. “Hostages?” He shook his head.

Sarah kept driving, lights and siren blaring, but she wasn’t going to be aggressive with a chase without orders. Not as a rookie. “The suspects aren’t waiting around. Do we pursue?” she demanded. The orange car was speeding away, the sight sending adrenaline pumping through her veins. It rankled her to let a criminal get away.

The Chevelle was forcing motorists off the roads, amazingly, not causing any accidents. Its brake lights flashed like blinkers. From the sound of horns honking, the driver was obviously annoying locals stuck in five o’clock traffic.

Nick pulled the phone from his ear. “The suspects turned right on—” Before he could finish the sentence, Sarah cut over and turned off on a side street.

“We can catch up without fighting this heavy traffic.”

He nodded and went back to his conversation with the shift supervisor.

Before she got any more response from Nick, dispatch came back with a report. The car had been stolen after a bank robbery in Omaha two days earlier.

“Stolen vehicle,” Nick confirmed. “Follow, but take it easy. They’re calling the commander.”

“Three-eighteen in pursuit on Ram Ridge Road, southbound toward Horseshoe,” Sarah told dispatch.

She waited for information from Nick, which didn’t come. “Was someone hurt?” Depending on the answer, everything may have just changed.

“Yeah, are you comfortable with a high speed pursuit if necessary?” he asked. “We can call in someone else to intercept or set up a roadblock.”

“This isn’t my first pursuit, if that’s what has you worried. And I have a perfect driving record.”

“It was just an offer,” he said, his deep voice tinged with sarcasm.

The car had turned back onto a main road, fighting traffic again, with Sarah on its tail. She watched drivers’ reactions with dismay. One apparently didn’t have good vision or hearing, for she didn’t make any attempt to get out of the way. She should have noticed the flashing lights by now. Sarah hit the brakes and honked her horn. Finally, the driver swerved to the right, nearly hitting the cars that were already on the shoulder.

“Three-eighteen, status?” the dispatcher asked.

Nick responded before she could, leaving her free to focus on the pursuit. “We have the suspect in sight. The Chevelle is turning west on Horseshoe Loop.” He leaned over and checked the speedometer. “Party is exceeding speed limits in heavy rush hour traffic.”

“All officers in the vicinity west of Horseshoe and Dillon Road set up roadblock.”

Oncoming traffic pulled to the shoulder, leaving Sarah an opening. She passed the remaining cars between her and the suspect, hitting a hundred miles an hour in seconds. The road turned from a four-lane to two, but traffic thinned considerably. “If I remember correctly, this road hooks left, then makes a quick right as it goes up the mountain toward the reservoir, correct?”

“Good memory.”

“Think the driver knows that?”

“Yes on the road, no on suspects knowing the layout. You’re doing great.” Nick pressed one hand against the dash and spun the car-mounted laptop with the other so he could access the records on the suspects and the previous bank robbery.

“I’m going to…” Sarah started to say. As if their quarry realized they had no way out, they screeched to a halt, spun around and headed back toward the cruiser, black smoke billowing from the exhaust pipes.

“Aw, nuts!” she spat.

She hit the brakes and backed across the road, leaving her the option of going either direction. “Hang on!”

THREE

Nick couldn’t believe the way Sarah handled the car, the chase and—if he were honest with himself—him. As the suspects raced closer, she stared them down, one hand on the wheel, one on the gearshift.

Once they’d left the city limits, Nick had alerted the sheriff’s office that the chase was moving into their jurisdiction. Now, as they straddled the road, he heard another officer call in their exact location. “I haven’t played chicken before, but this isn’t looking good,” Nick muttered.

“Show no fear,” she whispered. Still focused on their quarry, she spoke with authority. “That car is souped up to the max. They aren’t going to wreck it.”

The suspects slowed almost to a stop as Roberts shimmied the cruiser forward, then back again when they attempted to get around it.

“They stole that vehicle,” Nick reminded her.

She didn’t bat an eye. “They could have stolen any number of cars in the Omaha area that would have garnered a lot less attention than an orange collectable car in pristine condition. They aren’t going to damage it.”

She said so with such confidence, he found it difficult to refute her reasoning. “And what makes you think that?”

She didn’t answer.

Nick didn’t wait. “So we can assume they’re not from around here. That must be why they didn’t want to go into the mountains on a two-lane road once you caught up to them.”

“Don’t you think they meant to turn toward the interstate and head for Denver?” she asked. She backed the cruiser up when they eased to the left, forward again when they tried once more to go around them to the right. “They don’t know the area, they don’t want to wreck the vehicle. They’re up a creek without a paddle.”

Nick jumped out of the cruiser and drew his gun. “Pop the trunk. I want to show them we mean business. Maybe they’ll come to their senses.” He made his way to the rear, his handgun zeroed in on the orange car’s radiator.

“Careful,” she said.

He lifted the trunk lid and pulled out both of their rifles. “Lord, knock some sense into these two before we have to use our weapons.” Backup had arrived, forming a line two deep behind the Chevelle. Sheriff’s deputies came down off the mountain, forming a V-shaped blockade. The borrow ditches were ten feet deep, so the suspects weren’t likely to take that route—in any car. They were blocked in totally, unless they used the vehicle as a ramming iron.

“Nick!”

He returned to the passenger’s open door and handed Sarah a rifle. “Yeah?”

“The shift supervisor wants to talk to you.”

“My hands are a little full right now. Can you put him on speakerphone?”

“Sure, Rambo,” she teased.

Nick heard the phone beep as it switched to speaker mode. “Yeah?”

“These two are wanted in the murder of a security guard, injuring one of the bank tellers, and two officers in Nebraska. A car belonging to Ricky Turrow was found a block from where this car was stolen. Do what you have to, but we want to make sure it’s the right guys. I’ve posted Turrow’s mug shots from previous arrests on the system. Be careful, Matthews. The man has an ugly rap sheet.”

“No kidding,” Nick muttered. He leaned against the squad car, trying to figure out what Turrow and his partner were planning.

Sarah pulled up the photo on the laptop screen. “It’s Turrow.”

Captain Thomas broke in to ask what was happening.

Nick raised his voice as he aimed his rifle. “For now, they’re weighing their options—none of which are good. Any connection between the suspects and the owner of the car?”

“How’d you know?” the captain asked.

“It’s Officer Roberts’s belief that they have some attachment to it. They seem hesitant to take any risk of causing damage.”

He heard a chuckle on the other end. “Welcome back, Matthews. See you soon.” The cell phone went dead.

“Come out of the car, one at a time, and put your hands on your heads,” he heard his trainee’s authoritative voice bellow from the bullhorn under the hood of the car. “Driver first, Mr. Turrow.”

Guns pointed at the car from every direction.

The orange Chevelle’s engine revved and its tires squealed, sending smoke into the air again; obviously, the driver was racing the motor with his foot on the brake.

“You’re not sitting in a very good position, Roberts,” Nick warned. “Get out here.”

“If they see a five-foot-one officer get out of the cruiser, they’ll lose all fear, and you know it. Besides, someone needs to be ready in case they try to charge the barricade.”

“No, you don’t. Tell them we’re going to shoot if they don’t give up. I’ll take out the tires, then the radiator, then the gas tank, in that order.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Talk them out.”

She cleared her throat, then got back on the bullhorn, speaking into the mike. “Give up, before someone else gets hurt.”

The driver revved the engine again.

“Officers, prepare to open fire. On the three count, shoot out the tires!” she ordered over the mike.

The passenger waved his hand out the window. “Don’t shoot the car! We give up!” He swore at his partner, obviously trying to convince him to surrender.

“Roberts, get out of the car,” Nick said, as he inched around the cruiser and opened her door. “Hurry, while they’re distracted.” He kept his rifle aimed at the Chevelle’s radiator. Someone was going to cry if he shot it, but it wouldn’t be him. Roberts was his responsibility; he wasn’t about to let her get hurt.

“Cut the engine and get out. I’m not calling them off until you’re both out of the car and on the ground,” she bellowed as Nick tugged on her shirtsleeve.

They could hear yelling from inside the car. Thirty seconds later, the driver turned off the Chevelle and gave himself up, followed by the passenger. Sarah burst out of the car, keeping her gun on the latter, Turrow, as Nick went to cuff and search the driver.

One of the sheriff’s deputies nodded to her. “I think this is your arrest, Officer.” He stood nearby as Sarah moved the suspect to the car to pat him down.

Nick wondered if he should turn his guy over to another deputy so he could help her. Nope, she’s just one of the guys; she’s gotta do the job like all of us. He glanced over, surprised that she didn’t hesitate with any of her duties, even though the arrested party was a good foot taller than her.

“Get that cut on your forehead when you dived into the car?” she asked Turrow. “Take pictures,” she said, motioning for another officer to snap some photos before she cuffed the man. “You’re lucky that’s all that happened to you, with your friend’s driving habits, not to mention your bad choices,” she added. “Keep your hands on the roof of the car.”

Instead of obeying, the suspect threw an elbow into her chest, and again Nick fought the urge to intervene. The sheriff’s deputy was there immediately to assist as needed. He kicked the suspect’s legs farther apart.

“Is getting charged for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer part of your game plan?” Nick bellowed. He tightened his grip on his own suspect.

“C’mon, Turrow, you’re not going anywhere, so how about acting like a gentleman?” Sarah said, trying to sweet-talk the guy into cuffs.

The man spit.

Stoically, Sarah pushed him against the car, finishing her search, removing a knife and two guns from the cargo pocket of his pants in the process. “You have the right to remain silent….”

He fidgeted, making it difficult to get the steel bracelets on him.

“These cuffs are too tight.” The suspect jerked his arm from Sarah’s grasp, then knocked her to the ground and started running.

FOUR

Nick shoved his prisoner into another officer’s hands and headed toward Sarah.

She spun, kicking her suspect’s legs out from under him. Then she jumped to her feet and put her knee between his shoulder blades. “Anything else you’d like to try?” she asked the guy laying with his face on the concrete. He had not only hers, but three other guns aimed at him.

Nick stopped on the other side of the prone figure, holding back a laugh. He waited as Sarah cuffed him, then helped her to pull the guy to his feet.

“Look what you did to me!” the bank robber said, blood dripping from his nose.

Sarah holstered her weapon and grabbed his arm. “I’d start exercising that right to remain silent if I were you.” She escorted him to the backseat of their patrol car. “If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law….” she said, then finished reading him his rights. She closed the door and looked at the prisoner sitting in a second cruiser. “Did you read your party his rights?” she asked Nick.

“Done. Unless you object, I’d like to send him ahead to the jail, put some space between these two so they can’t collaborate on any details.”

Officer Roberts jotted notes on a small pad. “Fine. We shouldn’t be too long here, should we?”

“A tow truck has already been called to deliver the Chevelle to the police lot for investigation,” Nick confirmed. “The officer who responded at the bank will meet us at the jail to help with questioning. The shift supervisor is contacting the Nebraska department to let them know we have their suspects.”

“So we need to finish writing up our reports before they can be extradited to Omaha on their warrants.”

“That’s right. How’s your report writing?” he asked.

“They’re done differently than I’m used to, but I think I’m catching on.” She looked up and smiled.

After the scene was cleaned up, they transported the prisoner to the jail and waited while the guards searched him and offered first aid. Since both suspects lawyered up, Nick and Sarah had to wait for legal counsel to arrive before they could question them.

“Good job out there, Officer Roberts,” Nick said as they left the jail afterward.

“Thanks,” she said, wondering if he was always so formal. She wanted to tell him to call her Sarah, but since he was her field training officer, she opted against saying anything. “I think it went amazingly well, considering no innocent victims were hurt and not one vehicle suffered any damage. I’m sure you have a few suggestions of how I could have handled it better….”

“I said you did a good job,” Nick stated quietly.

She felt her heart beat a little faster when the corner of his mouth twitched. Sarah didn’t dare let his compliment go to her head. Evaluation of a call was part of the job. She didn’t need his approval. Or so she tried to convince herself.

A second later, he smiled. “Do you want to grab a soda on the way out, to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what? An arrest? Thanks, but I don’t drink soda on duty.”

“Coffee? Water? The machines have it all. My treat.”

She finally gave in and turned down the hallway toward the lobby. “I need to call my sister real quick.

If you insist on buying, I’ll take a water.”

She found a quiet corner and dialed her cell phone. “Hi, Beth. How’re you doing?”

“Fine, until you called to remind me I shouldn’t be,” her baby sister mumbled. “I don’t want to talk now.”

Sarah paced the floor, knowing she’d feel much better if she was at home with her sister instead of counting on a bunch of uninformed friends to watch out for her. “Are your girlfriends there?”

“Yes. We’re watching a movie and having pizza.”

Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You didn’t let some pizza joint deliver to the house, did you? Did you even tell your friends what happened? Did you tell Steve yet?”

“I don’t want to. I want to forget it,” her sister said vehemently.

“That’s not going to make it go away,” Sarah warned in a hushed tone.

The line went dead as Beth hung up.

She felt a cold chill as a shadow made the corner go dark. “You okay?”

Sarah spun around, realizing Nick had returned with her bottle of water, and one for himself. “Yeah, you ready to go?” She hoped he didn’t push for more information, because tonight, she didn’t think she could stay quiet. She didn’t want to be here at all, but she knew her sister’s stubbornness would be as annoying in person as it was from a distance.

“I’m ready, if you’re sure you are,” he said skeptically. “Is your sister okay? You didn’t sound very happy.”

Sarah couldn’t talk. Not right now. She walked past the good-looking officer who had been through the mill with his own problems. “I’m not.”

“I don’t mean to push…” he said under his breath. “But if you need time off, it’s better to take it than try to carry on when you’re distracted.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “Did I seem distracted out there?”

He stepped back and crossed his arms in front of him, then dropped them to his sides, probably afraid he’d split the seams of his perfectly ironed shirt. “No.”

“You probably know how irritating sisters can be when they make poor decisions, right?”

He looked at her, puzzled. “How’d you know I have a sister?”

Sarah couldn’t believe she’d opened her big mouth. For some crazy reason, she’d hoped he would remember her. “We went to high school together.” Suddenly she felt very awkward.

He didn’t respond, but studied her. “She’s not even close to our age. How’d…?”

“I saw her at basketball games.” Sarah had done enough interrogation in her career to know that his pause was due to discomfort. She was just rankled enough from her conversation with Beth to push the topic. “You don’t remember me, do you? I was older…. A geek with no social life….”

“I presume you still are,” he said with an ornery smile. “Older, I mean.”

She pursed her mouth and looked up at him. “Thanks for reminding me, Sergeant Matthews.” She shrugged. “Forget I mentioned it. It’s been a long time.”

His lips quirked slightly, forming an adorable smile that she remembered from all those years ago. “I confess, I didn’t make the connection at first. I thought you looked familiar. In this line of work, it’s hard to remember where I’ve met someone. You’re Joel’s twin sister. I still can’t believe you two are twins, he’s so much taller….” Nick’s face turned a shade pinker with her silence. “Sorry….”

She shook her head. “Yeah, thanks again for the reminder.”

“He was a senior on the basketball team when I made varsity my sophomore year.”

Sarah nodded in confirmation and his embarrassment faded. “And you bumped him out of the last quarter of the state championship game.”

Nick shrugged, the blush returning with her statement. “Is the chip on his shoulder, or yours? That happened…” He paused thoughtfully “…fourteen years ago.”

Sarah laughed at the puzzled look on his face. “Oh, I think it bothered the rest of us a lot more than it ever did Joel. He was just happy that the team took the championship.”

“We all were,” Nick said as he opened the door to the parking yard. “For the record, you were a brainiac, not a geek. That’s what everyone said, anyway.” They continued out to the squad car in silence. Sarah’s mind sped right back to high school, and the days she’d spent wishing she could be like the other girls for a change. The ones who were tall and pretty and knew how to flirt with boys, well enough to have gotten a date to the prom. Nothing scared high school boys away faster than a “brainiac,” apparently.

So she’d reminded him. But was it a good thing that he remembered her, or bad?

She tore her mind from those days long ago and refocused on her sister. Sarah planned on making a slight detour by Beth’s house, to make sure all was quiet.

“What’s Joel doing now?”

Nick’s question startled her. “Married with twin daughters, for starters. He teaches middle school in Denver.”

“Sounds fun. And where’s your sister?” he asked as they reached the cruiser and went to their respective doors.

At home, she hoped. Safe and sound. “She’s here in town.” What was Beth thinking, giving out her name and address the day after someone assaulted her? Didn’t she realize how fortunate it was that a group of students had happened by exactly when they did? Sarah got into the car and turned the key.

“Unlock my door,” Nick called as he knocked on the passenger’s window.

She hit the button, then offered a quick apology when he slid inside. “Well, that was a fun way to start the night, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That ought to keep our blood pumping for a few hours, anyway.” He asked a few more questions about Joel, but after that, it wasn’t long before he became the strong silent type once again.

She wanted to keep him talking, but this being their first night of a four-week assignment, she decided to let him make conversation when he was comfortable doing so. She’d pushed enough for now.

Nick had a rough road ahead, regaining his footing in the department after the charges that had been made against him. She could sympathize. While her reasons for leaving the FBI were nowhere as difficult to handle emotionally as what he had been through, she still couldn’t have walked back into the same team and pretended nothing had happened. In fact, she felt guilty leaving because they wouldn’t let her work undercover assignments. In time, she was sure she’d have the chance to commiserate with him. For now, they needed to let the wounds heal.

Throughout the evening, they had little more than traffic stops to keep them awake. Finally, with an hour left in their shift, they returned to the station to complete their reports.

Nick barely said a word as he worked at the desk across from hers. She looked up once to find him staring at her.

“How’s it going?” he said immediately.

He looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary. Sarah had the distinct feeling it wasn’t reports that were on his mind. “Okay, I suppose. I’m not sure how to explain the cuts on Turrow’s face.”

“Self-defense. He was trying to escape.”

She put her head in her hand. “There were four other officers between him and freedom. Would he really have run?”

“You bet. He was ready to take each officer out, and dumb enough to think he could get away with it.” Nick walked around the desks and looked at what she’d written. “It happened faster than that. I barely took two steps before you’d taken him down. It was a natural reaction to a violent prisoner resisting arrest. Erase that sentence about your reasoning through it.”

“But I did reason through it.”

“You have ten years experience, Sarah.” He said her name with an edge of discomfort. “It’s instinct to defend yourself and the other officers. You’re trained to react to the opposition. Don’t doubt yourself. That can’t be any different on the streets than it was in the Bureau. There were enough officers around to verify that he’d elbowed you twice.”

“You saw that?” Why had he been watching her, and not paying more attention to his own prisoner?

“You are my trainee. It’s my responsibility to keep my eye on you,” he said with a straight face.

So much for her high school dreams of a hometown boy finally noticing her, she thought. Sarah highlighted the sentence and hit the delete button, wishing it were as easy to erase her own mistakes.

FIVE

Nick reflected on his first night back on the job as he drove up the canyon west of town in the Colorado foothills. Officer Roberts wasn’t far from his mind. It was difficult enough that his trainee was a former federal agent, but that it was brainiac Sarah Roberts made the assignment pure agony. Even though he knew it could be worse—he could be training a young rookie fresh out of the academy—he now regretted the day he’d accepted a field training officer assignment. That seemed a lifetime ago….

Before fellow officers had accused him of selling evidence to their drug ring.

Before his fiancée had walked off, worried that the scandal would ruin her journalism career.

Before his honor had been assaulted from every direction.

“I’m not sure how much more You think I can handle, God, but it might be time we have another discussion. Bringing an FBI agent to the department is one thing, but making my former high school crush my trainee is a really low blow.”

As Nick pulled into the gravel driveway of the custom-built log home, his black Labrador greeted him from behind the six-foot chain link fence. She ambled toward the gate, her tail wagging and cheeks lifted in a smile. “Morning, Lexee.”

She yipped a greeting, stretching her lanky body.

“You ready to go inside?” Though the dog had a door of her own into the garage, he opened the gate and brought her in through the main entrance with him.

The dog ran across the room, fetched a stuffed animal and attacked him with her toy. He couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t care what kind of night I had, do you?” he said as he tossed the toy down the hall for their early morning ritual. He filled a glass with orange juice and sat on the sofa to catch up with the news and baseball scores on his digital television recorder. The dog toy dropped at his feet and Lexee smiled at him again, eagerly awaiting the next toss. “You don’t want to hear me complain about my cute new partner, do you?”

Lexee cocked her head to one side, as if to say, “Of course I do.” Then she flung the toy at him and crouched, ready for him to throw it again.

The phone rang, and Nick jumped. He figured it had to be one of his brothers calling to see how his first night back on patrol went. He checked the I.D. display to be sure it wasn’t someone else calling at three in the morning.

“Hey, Garrett, what’s up?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you,” his younger brother said. “I’m taking a break while it’s quiet. Sounds like you had a fun evening. It’s deader than a doornail now. Man, I’d have loved to have been in your boots!”

Nick smiled, thankful that he could share the peculiar sense of humor of the law enforcement officer with his family. What was bad to most people was great to a cop. “Yeah, it was a good evening. I suppose you also know that I finally made it as a field training officer,” he said, waiting to see if his brother had heard that, too.

“Did you get the FBI agent?”

“Ten-four,” he said with a chuckle. “What’s worse, she went to high school here. I played basketball with her twin brother. We used to call her the brainiac. I guess I’m not done being investigated, after all.”

“Get over that already, Nick. If they didn’t trust you they would have come up with some reason to can you. I hear she whipped the bank robber. What’s her name again?” his brother asked.

“Sarah Roberts. And yes, she has some pretty amazing defensive moves. She’s the shortest trainee with long dark hair…”

“Yeah,” he said, obviously distracted. Nick could hear the radio in the background. “She didn’t look familiar. Did I know her?”

Lexee dropped to her belly and squeaked the toy. Nick wrestled it away so he could hear Garrett, searching for something quieter to play with. “Probably not. Sarah and her twin brother are two years older than me, so she’d have been long gone by the time you and Kira were in high school. She remembered we’d adopted Kira.”

“I think everyone remembers that. It was still pretty odd around here to see a mixed-race kid in our family.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Nick put his feet up and closed his eyes. “Her brother was the kid that I replaced in the championship basketball game my sophomore year. She razzed me about it. That was kind of weird.” He didn’t tell Garrett that she was even cuter now than she’d been in high school. “But all in all, it was a good night. It’s definitely good to be back to work.”

“And how’d the guys respond?”

Though Garrett couldn’t see him, he shrugged. “About like we figured. Some were okay, but there were a lot who seemed sure I would kill their careers if they showed any support.”

“At least you knew what to expect,” Garrett conceded. “I thought you were imagining things until I saw guys avoiding me when they found out that we’re related.”

“I hate to say we told you so. I just can’t help but wonder if they still suspect I was involved, and are trying to dig up some dirt. The captain either gave me the FTO to show his faith in me, or to let Sa…Roberts dig for more information.” Nick cringed, hoping his brother didn’t notice he’d almost called Sarah by her first name.

“Keep believing the first option, Nick. You have a good record on the force. Plus, it’s only a few weeks. It won’t take long for things to return to normal.”

Nick gave a quick overview of the bank robber call, hoping Garrett would overlook his slip. “Has anything new been mentioned about the assault victim?”

“Yeah, didn’t you hear rumors that the mayor is raising a ruckus over it? This is the second woman assaulted in the last five months. The last victim was leaving a church meeting….”

“And who would tell me the latest rumblings from City Hall? It’s not like Kent hears the downtown rumors from the undercover narcotics office.”

“Are you kidding? Half the time they’re the first to know. It’s like they have a bug in the locker room sometimes.” His younger brother hesitated. “Well, rumor has it we may all be assigned partners until this rapist is caught.”

Lexee dropped the toy and Nick snatched it away. She jumped for it as he tucked it behind his back. He tossed the dog a tennis ball, hoping it would keep her busier than the squeaky stuffed animal.

“You haven’t heard a name yet? No suspects?” he asked.

“We’ve just been told to keep a close eye on the university, so I presume she was a student or an employee there. Why?”

“I don’t know. It seemed kind of odd that Roberts didn’t mention it. I mean, everyone in the men’s locker room was discussing it. Roberts and I were right there on the east side of campus, and she never said a word about it.”

The line was quiet for a minute before his brother responded. “She was probably overwhelmed from the bank robbery. I’m guessing that’s her first really good incident on street duty. Give it some time. She’ll be talking your ear off as soon as she gets comfortable.”

Nick didn’t dare admit that he was probably as hyped up about the robbery as she was. She’d been one hundred percent in control of the situation. Completely sure of her every move, which made her that much more dangerous as a trainee.

He’d have to make sure she didn’t push too far. Take too many liberties. Do any damage to his already tenuous reputation.

“Nick?” His brother’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Yeah. I should let you get back to work. I need to go in early to order some new uniform shirts. Seems I gained a little weight in the last three years in plainclothes.”

“Maybe you should reconsider playing basketball with the police team this winter. I’ll work it off of you,” Garrett said with a chuckle.

“I’m sure nothing would make you happier than to do it, either.”

Nick set the phone back on the charger and locked up the house.

Instead of falling asleep like he usually did right after coming home, he found himself wide awake thinking of Sarah Roberts. He pulled his high school yearbook off the shelf and thumbed through the slick pages, admiring a much younger version of his partner.

She wore her hair down in those days with bangs hanging into her eyes. He remembered it as if it were just yesterday. He’d been too shy then to talk to her let alone ask a senior girl out.

He couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had?

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