“I’m a trained officer. I can handle a man who’s acting like a problem.”

  “Unarmed in a bar where he could be carrying a weapon? Or possibly high on any number of things? No way.”

  “Are you suggesting I can’t?”

  “I’m suggesting you found a way to handle the situation without jumping into something rash. They’re not the same.”

  “Yet here you are, apologizing for kissing me back.”

  “I’m not—”

  “No, Arlo, what do you mean? Because you’re suddenly offended at the idea I can take care of myself, yet you’re equally offended at kissing me. You can’t have it both ways.”

  That sense of calm he’d credited her for was nowhere in evidence, but she at least recognized the need to pull back.

  Or, more to the point, to shut up and not make it worse.

  “I wasn’t offended. I was the opposite of offended.” He toyed with the handle of his coffee mug before looking back up at her. “I enjoyed it.”

  * * *

  Whatever impulse had him inviting Kerrigan to breakfast had then given way to some misbegotten need to discuss that kiss.

  He should have let it lie.

  Just like last night, when they’d both, by unspoken agreement, avoided discussing what had happened, he should have left things that way.

  And instead, here he was apologizing? And, apparently, insulting her about her abilities to defend herself, which hadn’t been in the cards, either.

  Because no matter how well-trained and competent she was, the thought of her confronting the man who’d put such fear in her eyes had him seeing through a dark miasma of anger.

  “I enjoyed it, too.”

  Her admission floated toward him across their small table, kindling a level of satisfaction he had no business feeling yet was helpless to deny.

  “So let’s put it behind us. It’s out in the open now and we can move on.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.” He took a sip of his coffee, trying to regain his equilibrium, but it had taken a serious vacation since the night before.

  Hell, it had pretty much vanished the moment he’d seen her standing at the edge of the boat, stripping out of her wet suit.

  “Can I ask you something?” Kerrigan’s voice was quiet, her back arrow-straight as she sat opposite him. It was a jarring change from when they’d walked over to the restaurant, the two of them comfortable and relaxed.

  He’d ruined that with his harebrained attempts to apologize. Or maybe, more to the point, to assuage his guilt?

  “Of course.”

  “Is this going to change things between us?”

  Until that moment, he hadn’t considered his apology as anything more than something she deserved, but now that he considered it from her perspective, he got a sense of her worry. “If you mean will it change my respect for you and my belief you can do the work? Absolutely not.”

  “Okay.”

  “If you mean that it’s going to be something we both have to live with? There’s not much I can do about that.”

  Wow, Prescott, is this your first day talking to a woman?

  He’d never considered himself clumsy with women, but something about this exchange had put him on his back foot. First, his ill-advised apology for kissing her wasn’t the best choice. But now he was rubbing salt in the wound?

  Her jaw set into a hard line. “We’re going to have to do something about it because it can’t get in the way.”

  “I’m attracted to you, Kerrigan. It’s already in the way. A kiss only cemented that fact even more.”

  Their waiter arrived with their pancakes, and Arlo used the break to simply look at her across the table.

  The truth was out.

  She was a beautiful, interesting woman and at least he’d finally admitted to his attraction for her. Which meant now was also the time to tell her about his dive into Big Will’s background and his business because he had to get that report written up and added to the file.

  “Kerrigan, I need to—”

  “So what you’re really saying is that things will change. Look, Arlo, I don’t make it a habit to go around kissing my coworkers. In the line of duty or outside of it. I can’t afford gossip or questions about my competence.”

  “There it is again. Why are you so convinced someone’s going to question your abilities?” He gave her a beat, then two, before he pressed on. Because unlike last night in the car, he wasn’t willing to wait and see if she might say something.

  It was time to push.

  “It’s been the pervasive thread between us for the past week and I can’t help but feel it all hinges on whatever happened at your first precinct. Get over it. Deal with it however you need to and then get it out of your head.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or you’re going to fall victim to it.”

  As pep talks went it was as poor as the bad apology for the kiss, but he was getting desperate. There were some very real ghosts in her past and it was long past time she exorcised them.

  “I’m a professional. I’m past it.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “So now you’re playing armchair psychologist on top of telling me all the ways I can’t go off and defend myself?”

  “It’s not armchair psychology to acknowledge that whatever happened at your last precinct is still affecting you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You say that, but no matter how good a cop you are, below and above the water, letting those demons in and allowing them to feed never ends well.”

  “Then how about this, Detective Prescott. I’m more than capable of handling this case and seeing it through to the end. Not only am I capable, I’m going to do that. And when it’s over? When we have whoever these bastards are in custody? I’m going to remind you of this moment and all the reasons you thought I couldn’t handle it.”

  “That’s not what I said, Kerrigan.”

  “Save it.”

  She fumbled in her coat pocket for something and it took him a split second to realize it was a handful of cash. “This should cover my portion of breakfast. I have a dive Monday morning, but I’ll be in the precinct after lunch. I’ll see you then.”

  More than a few eyes followed her as she stood and stalked from the restaurant and Arlo left them all to stare.

  All he could focus on was the uneaten stack of pancakes on the opposite side of the table.

  And the unmistakable lines of hurt he’d put on the face of the woman he wouldn’t be sharing them with.

  Chapter 8

  Kerrigan finished checking the gauges on her oxygen tank and fought the roiling waves of exhaustion and sadness she’d managed for nearly forty-eight hours. She’d even feigned work overload to get out of Sunday dinner with her family.

  If her mother had suspected something more was up, she didn’t say, but Kerrigan knew she needed to get herself together. Because if she canceled for next week, her mother would be at her doorstep with a meat loaf, a vat of chicken soup and a box of tissues to talk it out.

  And what, exactly, would she say?

  I have the hots for my new partner, and he thinks I’m damaged goods from my first job.

  Oh, but he’s attracted to me, too, so there is that.

  A lot of that, actually. Because no matter how upsetting their conversation had been, she was attracted too.

  And wasn’t that the rub?

  She wasn’t damaged but she did carry a hell of a lot of baggage with her from that Internal Affairs investigation. She’d believed it behind her. She’d kept her head down and had focused on her dive work, but here she was, with her first shot at working a high-profile case, and she was letting her past intrude.

  Was Arlo right to question her?

  Since every partner deserved to know they were heading straight into the fire with someone capable of handling the heat, yeah, she admitted to herself.

  He did have a right to question.

  Especially when that very baggage had driven every insecurity she had on this case.

  “Yo, Kerr. You ready?”

  Jayden had given her a wide berth this morning when she’d remained quiet through his chatter about his dinner date on Saturday night. Her automaton-like responses of “that’s nice” and “sounds delicious” hadn’t carried any heart and their friendship was solid enough that Jayden recognized she needed some space.

  Even if she did owe him an apology for being a bad friend who couldn’t even make a bit of Monday-morning small talk.

  “You sure you’re good to dive?”

  “I’m fine. The quiet underwater will do me good.” She stood up from where she’d crouched beside her equipment and put a hand on his arm. “And hopefully break my crappy mood this morning. I’m sorry.”

  “Save it.” He grinned and she saw the partner she knew and loved behind that smile. “And since I’m going to be singing happy songs about that crème brûlée for at least another week you’ll get my dinner story a few more times. You can ooh and aah later.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Jayden drifted toward the front of the cabin of the small police boat they were using today, and she took a seat on the deck with her tablet. She wanted to review the details one more time on their evidence recovery.

  She scanned the report and figured this would be a quick drop down into the water. They had a lot of data since a beat team had chased a group of thugs across the Brooklyn Bridge the night before. The team had a good description of the weapons. Kerrigan already knew she was on the hunt for a sawed-off shotgun and two semi-automatic rifles that were a lot better off at the bottom of East River than in the hands of criminals.

  Gavin gave the morning briefing and since the recovery was pretty straightforward, he was only sending her and Jayden down on the bridge dive. Once they had the evidence, their team would move on to whatever other duties awaited.

  It was easy. Routine, even. And it was something she innately understood.

  Since she had very little to prep for, her errant thoughts went straight back to the same place they’d been all weekend.

  Is this going to change things between us?

  If you mean will it change my respect for you and my belief you can do the work? Absolutely not.

  If you mean that it’s going to be something we both have to live with? There’s not much I can do about that.

  She’d played that exchange over and over and kept coming back to the sheer audacity of Arlo’s words.

  Live with it?

  They’d have to live with kissing each other?

  It infuriated her, both for his matter-of-fact attitude about the whole thing and—even more, she had to admit—because she couldn’t let it go.

  Live with it.

  She’d kissed him in the line of duty and while she’d stand by that, there would have been other ways of handling the situation. Heck, she could have dropped something on the floor or just told him flat out to look at the thug by the bar door.

  But no.

  She’d used a kiss as an excuse to get him into the proper sight line.

  It was selfishly motivated, and she could direct as much heat and anger in Arlo’s direction as she wanted, but she needed to own her actions.

  And maybe that was the root of the problem. She was angry at herself. For letting this attraction she had developed color her judgment, certainly in the moment, but overall, too.

  Was she still raw over her exit from her last precinct? Yes, of course. That damage wasn’t going away anytime soon and maybe it shouldn’t. Experiences like that left a mark but they also prepared you for things to come.

  She was tougher now and she no longer wore rose-colored glasses. Which also meant if feelings were getting in the way, then she wasn’t doing her job well.

  And since feelings were getting in the way it was time to get her head in the game.

  She flipped over to her email while she waited for the boat operator to get them in position and scanned what had come in that morning.

  Only to find an email from ten o’clock the night before.

  The subject carried the case number and a very clear description of what was inside.

  Report: Background check | Will Gentry, Dyson Gentry, Decker Gentry

  She’d already written up the interview notes with Big Will after they’d gotten back to the precinct. Nowhere in that write-up was there a discussion of running a background check on Big Will or his family.

  Which meant Arlo had taken it upon himself to do it.

  She clicked into the report attached to the email, something dark and ugly greasing her stomach.

  He hadn’t told her.

  And unless he’d gotten a wild hair yesterday to run the family—something he’d most certainly not discussed with her—it wasn’t just something he’d been thinking about.

  It was something he’d done.

  Kerrigan read the date stamp on the report and had her answer.

  Arlo had run the family the same day they’d visited Brooklyn Yacht.

  He hadn’t mentioned it then. Or in any of the numerous days or conversations they’d shared since.

  As projects went, it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. It made sense to get a full picture of suspects or anyone who might have knowledge of a crime.

  She’d believed Big Will was innocent, but she’d never suggest a cop’s instincts weren’t fair or valid or not worth pursuing.

  Yet he’d deliberately kept her out.

  And she had the date stamp to prove it.

  * * *

  “Arlo?” Captain Reed moved up beside Arlo’s desk. “You have a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  Arlo had been running through old case files all morning, trying to see if there was anything he’d missed on the drug-bust case he’d closed a few months ago.

  So far nothing.

  Just like he hadn’t had anything from Kerrigan, either.

  He’d left the restaurant shortly after she did, the pancakes he’d ordered like dust in his mouth. The minimal amount of food had made it easier to get through his workout without feeling weighted down and he’d processed, over and over, with each thwap of the treadmill belt how badly he’d messed up.

  “I saw the report that you put in on the smuggling-boat case.”

  “The Gentry family?”

  “That’s the one. I know you’ve been busy, but it’s not like you to be so late in your reports. Everything okay with that one?”

  It was an example, yet again, that Dwayne Reed knew his team.

  “I struggled with that one a bit.”

  “With reviewing potential suspects?” Dwayne’s dark gaze sharpened. “They gave you a problem during your initial interview?”

  “No, not at all. Kerrigan and the owner know each other, and he spoke easily with us about what he knew and how the boat business works.”

  “So he was more of a source than a potential perp?”

  “More or less.” Arlo felt the heat creep up his neck. “Nonetheless, I felt it important to run him, but I did it without telling her.”

  He hated the way this one made him feel, that sense that he’d betrayed his partner, even though he knew full well he was doing his job.

  “Why’d you keep it from her?”

  “I was concerned her friendship with the owner would make it difficult to be objective.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “No, sir.”

  “That sounds like a real problem here.” Dwayne paused, obviously weighing his words, before continuing. “You know you have my full support on this. Kerrigan does, too. You brought her in, Arlo. She deserves to be all-in.”

  “I know that. And it’s why it took me so long to write up the report.”

  Dwayne just nodded at that before he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “Partnerships aren’t easy. You’ve been doing this long enough to know that. But we support working in a partnered environment for a reason, Arlo.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Since I can see your face, I recognize you’ve been through this over and over in your mind. I suggest you start with your partner and apologize.”

  “I’m not exactly her favorite person right now.”

  “Oh?” There was a shocking depth of meaning in that lone word and Arlo quickly retrenched.

  “She’s eager. She wants to solve this case. I want to support that in her. That drive. That ambition. But I can’t help feeling, just like you said last week, that there are some really dark overtones in this one.”

  “You get any new leads?”

  “No, and that’s part of the problem. We’ve been turning over every rock we can find. That look into the Gentry family was an example. I don’t want them to be guilty, but nothing is popping. No one is talking. And when you add in two grisly murders on the boat, it makes you wonder.”

  “What lines are you tugging?”

  Arlo filled in the captain on the theory they had been working, that somebody had stepped in and replaced the Papa. Dwayne keyed in on that, his attention sharp and reinforcing Arlo’s gut that they had something with that. “It’s a good angle and it makes a lot of sense. Switching leaders always causes havoc. Taking the Papa out of circulation? That’s a lot of upheaval and a lot of room for new ambitious leaders to move in.”

  Not for the first time, Arlo acknowledged how much of human nature was wrapped into criminal activity. The hierarchies. The loyalties. Even the strange use of “family” as a way to bring people into the work together.

  Although most of his friends were cops, he had some that worked in the corporate world. Hell, his brother was one of them. And the way they talked about their companies, referring to them as families and as teams. There was an odd match there.

  Did it get people to fall in line? Make them feel more loyal? Or was it the simple human need to belong to something?