The Children's Cop

  “Do you know who took her?”

  This time, Detective Montalvo made no effort to hide her surprise. “Who took her?”

  “Do you have any leads? Any suspects? And don’t tell me you can’t share that information with me, because I’m not leaving here until you tell me what you know.”

  “Mr. Davis—”

  “Please don’t put me off, Detective. I need to know what you’ve found out so far.”

  All at once her expression shifted and something very close to pity filled her eyes. “Mr. Davis, I’m afraid you may be functioning under a misunderstanding. We have no proof that Angelina has been abducted.”

  Just like that, the brittle fear that had kept Jackson on tenterhooks all morning began to crumble. “But—”

  “We don’t know anything definite,” she said, “but it’s far more likely that Angelina left home on her own.”

  Dear Reader,

  What an incredible experience it has been working on the WOMEN IN BLUE continuity series—stories about six women who met while at the Houston Police Academy, and whose lives remain entwined afterward. This book stands alone, but I hope you’ll enjoy reading the other five, too.

  The Children’s Cop is first and foremost a love story between Lucy Montalvo and Jackson Davis, two people whose paths would probably never have crossed if not for Angel, Jackson’s niece. But sometimes those meetings are the best!

  Lucy is a detective with the juvenile division of Missing Persons at the Houston Police Department, Jackson a horse breeder from the other side of Texas. As I worked on this story I asked myself repeatedly if it’s really possible to find love when the world is falling apart around you. I think I found the answer to that question, and I hope you enjoy getting there as much as I did.

  It’s been a wonderful experience working with Kay David, Linda Style, Anna Adams, Roz Denny Fox and K.N. Casper on the WOMEN IN BLUE series. Of course I’ve admired their work in the past, just as all of you do, but seeing them in action has only made my admiration for each of them grow.

  I hope you’ll enjoy The Children’s Cop, and the other books in the WOMEN IN BLUE series.

  All the best,

  Sherry Lewis

  I love hearing from readers! You can write to me P.O. Box 540010, North Salt Lake, UT 84054 or via my Web site, www.sherrylewisbooks.com.

  The Children’s Cop

  Sherry Lewis

  For Marcus McBride

  A true-life hero

  Books by Sherry Lewis

  HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

  628—CALL ME MOM

  692—THIS MONTANA HOME

  744—KEEPING HER SAFE

  816—LET IT SNOW

  826—A MAN FOR MOM

  883—FOR THE BABY’S SAKE

  974—THAT WOMAN IN WYOMING

  1072—MR. CONGENIALITY

  1169—THE CHRISTMAS WIFE

  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

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  LEAVES RUSTLED IN THE WIND and moonlight spilled across the lawn as Lucy Montalvo locked her car and started up the sidewalk toward her Houston condo. Every muscle in her body was on fire, and the dull headache that had been teasing her all afternoon had spread across her forehead and settled behind one eye.

  A few porch lamps burned away the late-night shadows, and the soft blue flicker of a TV lit a couple of nearby windows, but most of the complex was dark. Usually, Lucy battled a slight loneliness when she came home after her neighbors were asleep, but tonight was different.

  She walked slowly, trying to find solace in the near silence, the autumn breeze that stirred the heavy humid air and the faint glimmer of starlight overhead. The temperature had dropped a little from its midday high, but the humidity had been unbearable all day and ninety degrees of Texas heat still lingered close to the ground.

  Lucy had no idea how late it was. She’d lost track of time holding Maria Avila’s hand, offering comfort. She’d spent the past few hours trying to wipe away the memory of little Tomas Avila’s body, discovered by a couple of construction workers earlier that afternoon. But it was a scene she knew she’d never forget. She was just grateful that she’d been able to keep his grieving mother from the sight.

  Her conversation with Mrs. Avila had left Lucy feeling slow and lethargic. She was more than ready for a day off, but she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of bringing Tomas’s killer to justice.

  Much as Lucy loved her career, the constant search for missing children sometimes got to her. Six years after graduating from the police academy and hiring on with the Houston Police Department, she still hadn’t learned how to lock her heart away. Even her training as a patrol officer and the years she’d spent in the Domestic Violence Unit hadn’t hardened her.

  A few months ago, Lucy could have released some of tonight’s tension and despair over margaritas with the six-pack, a group of friends she’d made during her training in the academy. For the grueling six months the course lasted, Risa Taylor, Crista Santiago, Abby Carlton and Mei Ling had been as close to Lucy as sisters. Together with Catherine Tanner, their favorite instructor, they’d formed a bond they’d all believed would never break. Even after completing their training, they’d remained close friends, getting together at least once a month for lunch, more often when their schedules allowed.

  The six-pack would have understood both the grim reality of finding Tomas Avila too late, and the pain of having to carry that news to his mother. Abby and Risa would have known the right things to say. Catherine, now chief of police, would have offered her unique brand of wisdom, and Mei and Crista would have done their best to chase away the gloom.

  A few months earlier, Risa had been suspected of shooting her partner. Though Risa had been cleared eventually, the friendships had been a casualty. Now the other members of the six-pack were the last people Lucy could turn to in a crisis.

  Battling a huge yawn, Lucy climbed the steps to her front door and slipped the key into the lock. She rotated her shoulders to release some of the tightness there. Melancholy and exhaustion almost got the best of her, but the allure of a hot shower kept her moving.

  “Lucy?”

  The unexpected sound of a woman’s voice in the shadows behind her brought her around on the balls of her feet. “Yes?”

  A figure moved out of the shadows, and Lucy recognized Gwen Small from the unit next door. Gwen had to be at least fifty, but she dressed like someone far younger. Tonight, wearing pink shorts, a white tank top and sequined flip-flops, she plodded across the lawn as quickly as her short legs could carry her, obviously eager for conversation.

  Trying to hide her irritation at the interruption, Lucy moved to the railing so she wouldn’t have to raise her voice. “Hi, Gwen. Is something wrong?”

  “I’m afraid so. I’ve been watching for you.” Gwen smoothed a hand across her flyaway blond hair and came to rest at the bottom of the steps. “Nathan thought I should warn you before you go inside.”

  The Smalls were good people, but both had far too much time on their hands and Nathan took his job as president of the homeowners’ association way too seriously. Compared to what Lucy had just been through, grass clippings left on the sidewalk and visitor-parki
ng violations didn’t even rate mild concern.

  Trying to ignore the ache in her head, she tugged the handle of her workout bag higher on her shoulder and smoothed the annoyance out of her voice. “Warn me about what?”

  “Nathan and I found water on our kitchen floor this morning. He tried to figure out what was wrong by himself, but he couldn’t, so we had to call a plumber. Apparently, there’s something wrong with the pipes in your unit.”

  This is why Gwen had waited up on her? “Okay,” she said, and hoped it would be enough to placate her eager neighbor. “I’ll look into it.”

  “I don’t think you understand.” Gwen climbed the first step and leaned against the railing. “The damage is so severe, the plumber thinks your pipes have been leaking for quite a while. I’m afraid you won’t be able to stay in your unit until it’s fixed.”

  Lucy struggled to follow. “What damage?”

  “Below the floors somewhere.” Gwen motioned vaguely toward Lucy’s darkened windows. “He says the supports have been weakened, so it’s not safe to even walk around in there.”

  “But that’s impossible! I was there just this morning and everything was fine.”

  “Well, that’s the point. If it’s structural damage, you wouldn’t see it, would you?” Gwen fished a business card from her pocket and passed it over. “That’s from the plumber. He comes highly recommended, of course. We try to get the best.”

  Lucy glanced at the card, but she couldn’t see well enough in the dark to make out anything it said. This had to be some kind of joke. She’d bought the condo only a year ago. It simply couldn’t be falling apart beneath her feet. But Gwen and Nathan weren’t the kind of neighbors who played practical jokes, and even in the dim glow of her porch light, Lucy could see that Gwen’s expression was unhappy.

  And that made her spirits slip even lower. “How does the plumber know the water is coming from my place?”

  “We had to let him in, of course. That’s another reason I’ve been watching for you. We had to turn off the water to stop the leaking, and there’s a bit of a mess, I’m afraid.” Gwen squeaked out a high-pitched laugh. “I guess more than a bit. He’s torn up the kitchen floor in front of the sink, and the bathroom is completely unusable.”

  A protest rose to Lucy’s lips, but she had given them a key for emergencies, and obviously this qualified as one.

  “You’re welcome to stay with us,” Gwen continued. “We were a bit flooded this morning, but we don’t have any structural damage to our place. We’re lucky it’s contained to your unit.” She brushed something from the front of her blouse. “Nathan didn’t feel right about giving the go-ahead to start working, but the plumber did say that he could have everything fixed and get you back home in two or three weeks.”

  “Two or three weeks?” Lucy’s heart plummeted and the pounding in her head grew even stronger. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I were,” Gwen said with an apologetic smile, “but apparently there’s a lot of work to do. Nathan can explain it all better than I can, and I’m sure you’ll want to talk to the plumber yourself in the morning.”

  “You’re right about that.” Still struggling against disbelief, Lucy wheeled back to the door and turned the key. The musty odors of mold and rotten wood rushed out to meet her, and her spirits took another nosedive. Even she couldn’t deny that something was dreadfully wrong.

  As she turned on the light in the kitchen, she could almost see her plans for an early-morning meeting with Homicide flying out the window. Even with Gwen’s warning, she wasn’t prepared for the deep hole gouged into the floor, or for the smell. This problem might not rate up there with the tragedy she’d just faced, but it was too big to ignore.

  “If I were you,” Gwen said from just inside the front door, “I’d grab a few things now. If this is as bad as they say, there’s no telling when you’ll be able to get back inside.”

  Numb, Lucy could only nod.

  Gwen gave her an understanding smile. “I’ll head home and get the guest room ready.”

  That brought Lucy out of her trance. She shook her head quickly. “Thanks, but I’ll give my parents a call. They just live over in Pearland.”

  “Are you sure? It’s awfully late.”

  Lucy managed a weak smile. “They’re always after me to visit more, and I don’t want to put you and Nathan to any trouble.”

  “Well, all right,” Gwen said uncertainly. “But you know you’re welcome.”

  Lucy tore her gaze away from the trail of muddy footprints on her new off-white carpet and tried to shake off her daze. “Thanks, Gwen. I appreciate it, but if I don’t call Mom and Dad, they’ll never let me hear the end of it.” She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes against the pain. “This is just such a shock. I’m still trying to take it all in.”

  “Well, of course you are.” Gwen put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be glad to help you pull a few things together.”

  “No. Thanks.” Lucy opened her eyes again. Gwen was a good neighbor, but Lucy had never been comfortable with having people nose through her belongings. Risa had once told her she had a thing about privacy because she was an only child. Whether or not that was true, Lucy did like to protect her space.

  Putting a touch of warmth into her smile, she walked Gwen to the door and urged her outside. “I really appreciate you and Nathan taking care of this. I’ll get in touch with the plumber in the morning, and I’ll make sure you have my cell phone number and the number at my parents’ house in case you need to reach me.”

  “You’ll be careful? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “I’ll only stay a minute,” Lucy promised.

  Though she still looked unconvinced, Gwen gave in and toddled down the steps onto the lawn, and Lucy watched as she crossed the lawn and disappeared through her front door. Only then did she turn back to her own condo. So much for a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. It had already been one of the longest days of her life. Obviously it wasn’t over yet.

  TWO HOURS LATER, LUCY parked in front of her parents’ two-story brick house and shut off the ignition of her Eclipse with a sigh. The ibuprofen she’d swallowed with the last of her bottled water on the drive over was finally kicking in, and she was beginning to think she might be able to sleep, after all.

  Though it was nearly two o’clock in the morning and her parents were notorious early risers, porch lights blazed a cheerful welcome and Lucy could see her mother’s shadow moving in the upstairs window of Lucy’s childhood bedroom.

  Rolling her eyes in fond exasperation, Lucy climbed out of the car and reached into the back seat for her bag. She’d made her mother promise to leave the bed alone until she arrived, but she wasn’t surprised to see that her mom had ignored her. She just wasn’t sure whether Ellen was making the bed out of concern, or because she didn’t trust Lucy to do it right. Lucy’s mediocre homemaking skills had long been a joke in the family, so it was a good thing her parents were both quick to point out her other talents.

  Stifling a yawn, she let herself in through the front door and locked it behind her. The house smelled as it always did, of flowers and home cooking. She gave an appreciative sniff, and the shoe-leather sandwich she’d wolfed down at the station rolled over in her stomach.

  Leaving her bag near the door, she detoured into her parents’ spacious kitchen and found her dad sitting at the table in front of a bowl of dessert, his attention riveted on a book. At fifty-eight, her father was a vital man with boundless energy, and he still had only a slight paunch above his belt in spite of his love of midnight snacks. In the past few years, strands of gray had started appearing in his hair, and tonight she noticed that the hair at his temples was more silver than brown.

  He wore his glasses low on his nose, his hands shielding his eyes from the glare of the overhead light. He was so focused on the pages in front of him, he didn’t even hear her come in.

  It was at Doug Montalvo’s knee th
at Lucy had learned her unbending work ethic. From her mother, she’d inherited a desire to make the world a better place. Both parents excelled in their own pursuits, and Lucy had grown up determined to make them proud of her.

  With a grin, she hurried toward him and pressed a kiss to his receding hairline. “Hey, Dad.” She picked up his abandoned spoon and lifted a piece of her mother’s apple brown Betty for a better look. “What’s the matter? No good?”

  Doug’s head shot up, but it took a moment for him to focus on her and process what she said. Lucy loved watching his recognition dawn and his expression change as he went from stern concentration to obvious delight at seeing her.

  “Hey hey! What’s this?” Scowling playfully, he motioned for her to put down the spoon. “Has the world sunk so low that a man can’t turn his back for a second without somebody pilfering his food?”

  “I’m not pilfering, and I’d be willing to bet your back’s been turned for longer than a second. I think forgotten food should be fair game.”

  “It’s not forgotten. I’m just taking my time, that’s all. Savoring.” He closed his book, moved it out of the way and patted the chair beside his. “You look tired. Sit down and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  “Besides discovering that my house is falling apart under my feet?” She dropped into the chair and propped her legs on the closest empty one. Now that she was here, the exhaustion and memories came rushing back. “It’s been a very long day.”

  “Anything you can talk about?”

  There was no question that her father would never betray a confidence, but Lucy had strict personal rules, on top of the usual departmental ones, against discussing her cases—especially with people who weren’t on the force. Besides, she didn’t know how to explain the emotions she’d been struggling with all night. “Thanks,” she said, sliding down in her chair and leaning her head back. “Wish I could, but…you know.”

  Wearing a smile of approval, her father gave her hand a squeeze. “Have you seen your mother?”