Chapter Six

Fallon didn’t understand the attraction she had for Ian Cavanaugh. By all rights, she should hate him for the mere fact he belonged to the “brotherhood” that bled blue. But there was something about him. Especially since she had realized he was the one she had put to the floor.

He kept popping into her mind. And now they were in the same restaurant.

“You okay, Fallon?” her lunch date asked.

She nodded, looking away from Ian’s mercurial eyes. “I’m good, Jeremiah, I’m good.” Fallon smiled at the Marine beside her. He had been her CO at one point, now he was a trustworthy friend.

“Who’s the guy?” he asked as he pulled out her chair.

She didn’t want to answer, but she did. “He’s a detective. One involved in the cover-up, you know?”

They ordered their meals and Fallon struggled not to look over her shoulder at Ian.

Jeremiah knew. “He’s still watching you. Tell me what you need.”

Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a photo and set it between them. “Any idea what this is?”

He traced the outline as his brows furrowed. “Looks like a muzzle burn. What is it?”

“That’s exactly what it is, but I don’t know from which firearm. Can you help?”

Jeremiah reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He took a picture of her photo and pressed some buttons. “Give it a sec.”

“Thanks, Colonel,” Fallon said.

He flashed his handsome smile at her as he set the device to the side, making room for their food. “Thank you,” he said to the waitress. Fallon watched the blush run up the woman’s face at Jeremiah’s smile. She chuckled to herself. He was such a ladies’ man.

Jeremiah didn’t say anything else until the server was gone. “Okay, Fallon. Tell me something new about you. How have you been?”

They had a lighthearted lunch until his phone beeped. He picked it up and frowned before handing it across to Fallon.

Unsure, Fallon took it and looked at the screen. What? “Okay, this isn’t what I would have expected. A Webley Mark V?”

Jeremiah took it back. “Or a Mark IV. I’ll have to compare when I get back. Fallon, both of those are collector’s guns. The Mark IV was only in production from 1899 till 1904 and the Mark V from 1913 to 1919. They are English service revolvers.”

Fallon didn’t know what to make of this. “I didn’t see an old bullet; of course, they could have hidden that as well, or it could have been washed away with the rains that night. And they wouldn’t have casings either. Can you email that to my phone? I want to look into this further.”

“Of course.” He did. “Now, what are you going to do?”

“Eat my lunch and then get some warmer jogging clothes. I have to think about this.”

“Well, the results are a most likely match. Those guns had a distinct barrel marking. I wish I could give you more.”

Fallon ate a bite of her steak. “This is more than enough. Thanks for doing this much for me.”

“You know you never have to wonder if I’m going to help you, Fallon.” He winked at her and gave her a sexy grin.

“Excuse me,” a male voice interrupted their lunch.

Fallon looked up and groaned softly. Ian Cavanaugh and an older woman stood there. “What, Detective? Is a Maddox not allowed to eat here?” She deliberately tried to goad him.

His gray eyes flashed before he turned to her lunch companion. “I’m Detective Cavanaugh. And you are?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Jeremiah Dubois, United States Marine Corps,” Jeremiah responded, taking the same snotty tone as Ian.

“What do you want, Detective?” Fallon demanded, forcing him to look back at her.

“We need to talk.” He looked pointedly between her and the enlarged photo on the table. “When can we meet?”

Suspicion surged through her. “What exactly do you feel we have to discuss? You agreed the case was closed.” Calmly she flipped the photo over, hiding it from Ian’s observant stare.

“Don’t talk to my son that way,” the older woman interjected.

“Ma—”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. But according to your son, my father’s murder has been solved. Gang activity. So excuse me if I don’t feel like he deserves any of my time.” Fallon forced out the polite words.

The woman turned to Ian. “Is this true? You quit the case? Why Ian? You never accepted ‘gang activity’ before. Why now?” She gasped and looked back to the table. “You...you’re Fallon Maddox.”

“Yes, I am.” What the hell is going on here?

“I’m sorry for your loss. Ian, I’ll be by the door when you’re ready to leave.” She walked away.

Fallon stared up at Ian. He looked so good—his clothes molded to him, showcasing his powerful physique. Damn him for looking so hot! “Well?” she sniped when he remained, staring after his mother.

“When can we meet?” Ian asked again as his gaze returned to hers.

Flicking her eyes to Jeremiah, she hesitated. Once her friend nodded, she said, “Name the time and place and I’ll be there.”

“Anywhere?” Ian’s cocky voice challenged her to back down.

She narrowed her eyes. “Name it, cop. I’m not afraid of you or your kind.”

His eyes smoldered with anger. “Fine. Seven tonight at Pier 57.”

“I’ll be there.”

“We’ll see.” Ian walked off.

Jeremiah was silent for a while and then he laughed.

“Why are you laughing at me?” she growled at him.

“I’m thinkin’ you two should just knock boots and get it over with.”

Her eyes grew wide. “What?”

“Please, Fallon. Both of you are ignoring it, but it is obvious.” He batted his eyes. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“Ohhh, I should kick your—”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m still a superior officer.”

She lifted her lip in a silent snarl. “Not mine.”

“Oh, technically, I still am, Gunny.”

“You want an apology?”

He chuckled. “Only if you really mean it.” Fallon held his gaze. Jeremiah sighed, “One day Fallon. You’ll actually mean it.”

“I know I’m a bitch. Besides, if I had apologized you wouldn’t have believed it anyway.”

Jeremiah grunted. A wave of remorse passed through her. She wasn’t normally so callous, but he upset her by indicating he could tell she lusted for Ian. Her anger was at herself, but still she let Jeremiah take the punch.

“I’m sorry for snapping. I seem to be unable to control my calm. I attacked Ian the first time I saw him.” Jeremiah’s eyes grew wide and filled to the brim with amusement. “I saw a man with a gun against Clay. I just reacted. My skin almost burned when I touched him.”

“Do you believe in destiny? Soul mates?”

Fallon shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“You need a woman, Jeremiah, if you are spouting that crap. All that is, is a bunch of malarkey.”

“I’m Creole, chér,” he said, as if that should explain it all. “You’ll believe soon enough. Keep me posted on the case and call me if you need anything.”

Jeremiah paid and walked her out. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and drove away.