To have a close brush with death was a reminder that the next
time we might not be so lucky, something the young rarely gave much thought to under normal circumstances. He’d had plenty
of close calls and each had made changes in him. He wondered if he could make her see.
“I know because I’ve been where you are. I tangled with one of the men involved. I appreciate your fear and I respect your
feelings. You’ve got to trust me. I’ll keep you safe from him and the others, but you’ve got to put your whole trust in me,
to do
what
I ask
when
I ask.” He shifted into the right lane, then turned into the parking lot, heading for the lane that led to takeout. He glanced
over to see her watching him intently. “Do you think you can manage that, Terry?”
It was the first time he’d used her name, giving a more personal slant to their relationship. God knew she wanted to trust
him, wanted desperately to turn her worries over to someone else. Maybe he was the one who could end the nightmare and return
her to her world. “I’ll try,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I lashed out. It’s just that my life is out of my control and I
hate that. I dislike being beholden to strangers for even the toothpaste I use. I’ve been on my own for years and I loathe
this dependency.”
“I’m not good at relinquishing control, either. I’ll do everything I can to get your life back for you as quickly as I can.”
Terry sat staring out the window, wishing her emotions weren’t so raw.
Luke pulled the van up to the ordering menu, then swungaround toward Sara. “Dinnertime. What’ll you have, ladies?”
In the city of Phoenix, Officer Neil Manning was on night patrol, his squad car assigned to the downtown district frequented
by prostitutes and drug dealers. Since his partner, Jerry Foster, had been found dead in an alley several weeks ago, Neil
was traveling with a rookie named Pete Hansen, fresh from eight weeks of training after the Academy. The kid was twenty-six
and nice enough. But he talked incessantly about his wife and newborn son, things a single guy like Neil couldn’t get into.
He missed Jerry.
“Take a left onto Roosevelt and let’s swing along there, see if there’s any action,” he told Pete.
“Sure thing.” Pete licked his dry lips. “Mind if I pull in over at Circle K and get something to drink? Betsy made fish for
dinner tonight—fried perch fillets so tender they melt in your mouth. But man, am I thirsty.”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Neil watched the lanky kid run inside and sighed heavily. Things just weren’t the same. He and Jerry had
been friends for a long time, and roommates in an eastside apartment they shared since Jerry’s divorce two years ago. They’d
been on the same wavelength in so many ways. Neil just couldn’t figure why someone would off a nice guy like Jerry.
The scuttlebutt around the station was making him fighting mad. Some guys were saying Jerry had been on the take and that
he’d been eliminated because he’d been about to spill the beans. Neil didn’t believe the gossip for a minute. Jerry had complained
a lot after his divorce, saying he was being sucked dry by his ex over child support, but he’d kept up his payments. He’d
even managed lately to buy some spiffy clothes and a new Buick. The two of them had put in a lot of overtime and Jerry had
learned to handle his money better, that was all. Apparently there were guys at the stationwho were jealous. Just yesterday, Neil had almost come to blows with Fred Harmon, a loudmouth who suggested Neil didn’t know
his partner’s secret life.
That was crazy. Neil knew everything there was to know about Jerry Foster. Hell, his mother, a widow who’d been blind for
years, was depending on Neil to settle her son’s financial affairs. He’d even made the funeral arrangements. It was the least
he could do.
Pete pulled open the door and got in, drinking through a straw stuck in
time we might not be so lucky, something the young rarely gave much thought to under normal circumstances. He’d had plenty
of close calls and each had made changes in him. He wondered if he could make her see.
“I know because I’ve been where you are. I tangled with one of the men involved. I appreciate your fear and I respect your
feelings. You’ve got to trust me. I’ll keep you safe from him and the others, but you’ve got to put your whole trust in me,
to do
what
I ask
when
I ask.” He shifted into the right lane, then turned into the parking lot, heading for the lane that led to takeout. He glanced
over to see her watching him intently. “Do you think you can manage that, Terry?”
It was the first time he’d used her name, giving a more personal slant to their relationship. God knew she wanted to trust
him, wanted desperately to turn her worries over to someone else. Maybe he was the one who could end the nightmare and return
her to her world. “I’ll try,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I lashed out. It’s just that my life is out of my control and I
hate that. I dislike being beholden to strangers for even the toothpaste I use. I’ve been on my own for years and I loathe
this dependency.”
“I’m not good at relinquishing control, either. I’ll do everything I can to get your life back for you as quickly as I can.”
Terry sat staring out the window, wishing her emotions weren’t so raw.
Luke pulled the van up to the ordering menu, then swungaround toward Sara. “Dinnertime. What’ll you have, ladies?”
In the city of Phoenix, Officer Neil Manning was on night patrol, his squad car assigned to the downtown district frequented
by prostitutes and drug dealers. Since his partner, Jerry Foster, had been found dead in an alley several weeks ago, Neil
was traveling with a rookie named Pete Hansen, fresh from eight weeks of training after the Academy. The kid was twenty-six
and nice enough. But he talked incessantly about his wife and newborn son, things a single guy like Neil couldn’t get into.
He missed Jerry.
“Take a left onto Roosevelt and let’s swing along there, see if there’s any action,” he told Pete.
“Sure thing.” Pete licked his dry lips. “Mind if I pull in over at Circle K and get something to drink? Betsy made fish for
dinner tonight—fried perch fillets so tender they melt in your mouth. But man, am I thirsty.”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Neil watched the lanky kid run inside and sighed heavily. Things just weren’t the same. He and Jerry had
been friends for a long time, and roommates in an eastside apartment they shared since Jerry’s divorce two years ago. They’d
been on the same wavelength in so many ways. Neil just couldn’t figure why someone would off a nice guy like Jerry.
The scuttlebutt around the station was making him fighting mad. Some guys were saying Jerry had been on the take and that
he’d been eliminated because he’d been about to spill the beans. Neil didn’t believe the gossip for a minute. Jerry had complained
a lot after his divorce, saying he was being sucked dry by his ex over child support, but he’d kept up his payments. He’d
even managed lately to buy some spiffy clothes and a new Buick. The two of them had put in a lot of overtime and Jerry had
learned to handle his money better, that was all. Apparently there were guys at the stationwho were jealous. Just yesterday, Neil had almost come to blows with Fred Harmon, a loudmouth who suggested Neil didn’t know
his partner’s secret life.
That was crazy. Neil knew everything there was to know about Jerry Foster. Hell, his mother, a widow who’d been blind for
years, was depending on Neil to settle her son’s financial affairs. He’d even made the funeral arrangements. It was the least
he could do.
Pete pulled open the door and got in, drinking through a straw stuck in
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