Stay All Night: Arizona Law 2 (Arizona Heat Book 6) Read online

  “Good thing you’re not my prisoner. You were officially released at four a.m., when you started work on the computer.”

  “May I go?”

  He shrugged, and I saw a trace of mischief in his eyes. He knew he’d ruffled my feathers.

  “Don’t forget your money.” He counted it out and handed it over. I snatched it out of his hand and ran for the exit. “Where are you staying?” he called after me.

  “What’s it to you?” I threw back. It wasn’t his business.

  “I need to know where to collect you tonight. You and me got a date at an Italian restaurant, then we start work at eight o’clock sharp.”

  “Work?”

  “I thought you wanted a job.”

  There was a long pause while two parts of my brain collided trying to make sense of what he was saying. The cynical side that didn’t trust anyone in authority told me he was lying. The side that listened to what was actually going on around me instead of jumping to conclusions pointed out he was offering me more work. Which would mean more money. I needed money. Money was good. It bought things like places to sleep and food to eat.

  Wait... didn’t he also mention a date?

  There were too many thoughts in my head. He was waiting for a reply. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted everything he was offering, but I was scared to take it in case I lost it again somehow.

  “Do you need a place to stay?” he asked.

  His direct words cut through all the crap in my mind and I looked up and nodded.

  “Do you know of anywhere?” I asked him, feeling like it might be okay to let myself be vulnerable around him for a moment.

  “Sure. I’ve got a spare room you can borrow.”

  Oh that was not what I’d meant! “I thought you were gonna point me in the direction of a cheap motel.”

  “You’re eighteen. You’re female. You’re alone. I suspect the twenty-seven bucks I just gave you is all the money you have. Allowing you to stay in some seedy motel would be very irresponsible of me.”

  “But I can take care of myself,” I protested. No one had ever cared enough about these sorts of things before. Why was it different now I was an adult instead of a helpless child? It didn’t make sense to me.

  “I’m a cop. I know what’s out there. Anyway, even if you won’t believe me about your safety, the nearest places are all in Phoenix. I’d have to do a two-hour round trip to collect you for work. I won’t hear any arguments from you. You’re staying with me. I insist. Keep your money for something nice.”

  I wanted to let him help me but it was all too much. I was scared. His offer was too generous. If I depended on him for support, what happened when he changed his mind and took away all of it? I’d be by myself again, but I’d be in a worse state because I would have cared about him.

  The kindness was too unfamiliar. It suffocated me and I didn’t know how to handle it at all.

  “Sorry,” I breathed, then I turned and fled.

  Chapter 4

  Rick

  What in the world had just happened? I had tried to help her. I had solutions to every single one of her problems. Yet, instead of accepting them with grace and gratitude like anyone else would have done, she ran away.

  It was the end of a long night and I didn’t want to chase her. I figured I should, to ensure she didn’t do anything stupid. She was like a cornered rabbit. Unpredictable. Wild. But helpless. More likely to get hurt than protect herself from anyone trying to harm her.

  I went out into the early morning. The heat of the day hadn’t hit, yet, which was good because I hated running when the thermometer was pushing a hundred. She was sprinting down the road at quite a pace. I didn’t understand. Didn’t she want help? She sure needed it.

  I caught up with her and blocked her way. She was breathless but clearly wanted to say something.

  “Take a moment. Breathe.” I wasn’t going to let her go it alone and if that made me a bad man in the eyes of our modern world then so be it. Cops were supposed to help people. I tried to live my whole life that way.

  She was wheezing and her chest rose and fell far more than it ought to. Immediately, I recognized this. Asthma.

  “Where’s your inhaler?” I asked.

  She frowned and shook her head. She didn’t have a purse, or any pockets. The cash I’d given her had disappeared into her sock. I doubted there was an inhaler down there.

  “You don’t have an inhaler,” I surmised. I thought about how long it would take an ambulance to get here. It would be quicker for me to take the squad car. I hoisted her over my shoulder for the second time in twenty-four hours and began carrying her back to the precinct.

  Bob and Sean caught up with me.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Bob asked.

  “Think she’s having an asthma attack, sir. She needs to get to the hospital.”

  “Sean, cover the precinct.” Bob waved a hand toward the office and Sean headed up to take care of things.

  “I’d prefer to stay with her, sir,” I protested, as Bob got into the driver’s seat of the squad car.

  “I agree. Get in the back. She might need CPR.”

  There was no arguing with the sheriff. I got into the back seat with her. No sooner were the doors closed than Bob started the engine and raced out of Snake Eye. He put the siren on. The long, straight road to Phoenix was peppered with cars and trucks. Bob passed all of them, reaching ninety miles-per-hour as he rushed to the hospital. I’d forgotten he was the best driver. He’d been a traffic cop for about five years and he’d honed his skills in police chases all over the state. Among his decades of police experience.

  He was the best guy for the job.

  I kept an eye on Avery the whole time. Toward the end of the journey, she was turning blue and her eyes had rolled back into her head. The hospital came into view. Bob ignored all the signs saying “ambulances only” and stopped right outside the entrance. I got out with Avery and carried her into the emergency room.

  “Asthma attack. Emergency,” I told the clerk behind the desk. She took Avery’s name and as many other details as I knew about her. Moments later, Avery was on a bed and being taken straight to a room where they put her on oxygen.

  I sat with her and hoped the asthma attack hadn’t caused any permanent harm. Going without oxygen could cause brain damage.

  A doctor came in and looked at her chart. He was a young guy, and the word ‘hotshot’ came to mind. Cocky. Arrogant. I didn’t like anything about him, from his dark brown hair all the way to his stupid, childish sneakers. I found it hard to trust a man who didn’t wear real shoes.

  “So the young lady has asthma?” he asked. I nodded.

  “She collapsed in the street,” I explained.

  “With no inhaler. That was mighty irresponsible of her.”

  I felt myself getting a little irritated. It was obvious she hadn’t gone out of her way to get sick.

  “I don’t know if she’s aware she has asthma,” I said carefully.

  “That might explain things. I’ll come back when she’s breathing more easily. Ring for the nurse if her condition deteriorates.”

  He disappeared and I was relieved. People my age had no business being doctors, yet. It was plain weird.

  I forgot all about the doctor. I sat beside Avery and thought about holding her hand, but decided it would be too overly-familiar. I hadn’t even known her a full twenty-four hours, yet.

  When the oxygen machine’s timer shut off the rumbling flow of air, a nurse came in and checked Avery’s vitals.

  “She’s doing much better. I’ll send the doctor in,” the nurse said.

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Doctor Cocky showed up again.

  “Now you can talk, I need you to answer some questions,” he told Avery. “Why didn’t you use your inhaler?”

  “Inhaler?”

  “You have asthma. This is the most clear-cut case I’ve ever seen. Your physician should have prescribed you some speci
al medication called an inhaler to use.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have a physician.”

  “Why don’t you have a physician?”

  “Can’t afford one.”

  He rolled his eyes. “In this day and age, that’s no excuse. You should be on your parents’ insurance.”

  Avery’s eyes lit up with fury. I’d seen her get like this before, but it was sort of funny to see her do it to someone else, even though I knew I would have to try and calm her down.

  “My mom ran off and my dad’s idea of a doctor is the late-night liquor store. It’s probably easy for you with your six-figure salary to think the whole world can go to a doctor whenever they want. If you had lived my life for even a minute you would know what you were asking was completely ridiculous. I’m done here. And I don’t have any money to pay a bill.” She got up and tried to leave. I sighed and darted between her and the door. “Let me go!” she shouted.

  “Avery. Avery! You need to calm down or you’ll have another asthma attack. The doctor needs to treat you. You almost died.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “Of course, I didn’t. I got out of breath. It happens all the time.”

  “It doesn’t have to.” The doctor’s words made her stop struggling for a moment. Her expressive brown eyes conveyed the emotion she felt about being able to breathe normally. Then she looked at the floor.

  “I can’t afford this. I’m sorry.” She tried to leave again but I was still in her way.

  “Listen. Whatever this costs, the police department will cover it. Essential medical care of a prisoner,” I told her.

  “I thought I wasn’t under arrest anymore as of four a.m.?”

  “That was before you ran out of a police station and I had to give chase.” I would find some way to get the costs covered.

  “So I’m under arrest again right now?”

  If that was the only way to get her to stay here and take care of her asthma, then I would arrest her a thousand times.

  “Yeah. You’re under arrest. That’s why you came here in a squad car. Sheriff Bob’s my backup. He’s in the waiting room.”

  “So I have to stay?”

  “Until the doctor treats you, yes. Once you have a diagnosis and a treatment plan, I’ll decide what I’m charging you with.”

  She sighed heavily. I didn’t know why she was so reluctant to avoid the hospital. She clearly needed medical treatment.

  “Fine.”

  “I don’t need your agreement to keep you here, young lady, but I’m glad you’re on board,” I growled.

  “I’m going to do a spirometry test,” the doctor said. “I’ll be back with the equipment.” He turned to leave then looked back over at me and added, “If she’s under arrest, she needs to be cuffed to the bed. That’s the law.”

  The door clicked closed and Avery turned on me. “You’re not handcuffing me!” she hissed.

  “Why not?” My fingers played on the metal cuffs clipped to my belt. “You keep running away.”

  “I swear I won’t run again. I promise.” Her voice had a pleading tone to it.

  I stood firm. “Young lady, I am going to follow the correct procedure. You don’t get a say in how this goes down.”

  “But I don’t want to be cuffed,” she replied.

  “You should have thought of that before you refused to let the doctor treat your life-threatening illness.” I held out the cuffs. She looked away, and I saw tears in her eyes.

  “I don’t like you.” Her voice wavered and she sounded like a petulant child.

  “You don’t have to like me.” That seemed to be something people didn’t understand about cops, especially lately. Our job wasn’t to be likeable, or to bend the rules to suit people’s political leanings. Our job wasn’t to prevent every single bad thing from happening to every single person in the country. Our job was to uphold the law. If the rules were wrong, that was for lawmakers to decide. Policing wasn’t a popularity contest. I liked to think we did more good than harm. “Hold out your wrist.”

  I cuffed her to the bed. She glared up at me with a mixture of hate, desolation and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Disappointment? Perhaps. I didn’t know what she had expected, but apparently, I’d fallen short.

  The doctor returned and did his test.

  She didn’t speak through the whole thing. He explained she had asthma and prescribed her an inhaler, then a nurse came in and showed her how to use it. When they discharged her, I led her to the parking lot where Bob had found a spot and was listening to the radio.

  “You cuffed her?” He nodded toward her wrists in surprise.

  “I’m suing your police department for wrongful arrest,” she complained.

  I sighed. “She refused to accept medical treatment on the grounds that she couldn’t pay.”

  Bob nodded and it was clear he understood. “So you reminded her that she was under arrest and therefore her healthcare was to be paid for by the police department?”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good man, Rick. C’mon, let’s hit the road.”

  The three of us headed back to Snake Eye in silence. We were waiting to turn into the precinct parking lot when Bob finally said something.

  “Y’know, I don’t think there’s any need to press charges,” he said thoughtfully. “Don’t you agree, Rick?”

  “Oh, sure. But we still need someone to type up the reports overnight, especially since Mavis retired.” Mavis had been a fantastic administrator and we’d been barely keeping our heads above water with the office work since she’d turned sixty. I uncuffed Avery as Bob parked the squad car.

  “We do.” Bob turned the engine off then we all got out. In the sunlight, Bob’s eyes took in everything about Avery. I guessed he knew more about her from that one look than I did after spending all night with her. “Young lady, I expect you to be here ready to start at eight p.m. sharp. I don’t tolerate tardiness. Or untidiness.” He turned and went inside the precinct. I smiled in her direction. She scowled.

  “I’ve never seen anyone so unhappy to be offered a job and pulled back not only from the brink of poverty, but from death, too,” I remarked. “If I were you, I’d start practicing some gratitude. Now c’mon, I want to sleep and you’re staying at my place.”

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” she sighed.

  “Not about staying in my spare room. But even if you did, you’d be crazy not to accept this offer.”

  She was silent. Good. Between Bob and I, we had finally worn her down into accepting that the police were going to take care of her whether she liked it or not.

  She was under my protection, and I wasn’t going to let her disappear into the desert.

  “Fine.”

  A bubble of excitement made me want to cheer but I didn’t because I was a cop in uniform and I had an image to maintain. She was finally agreeing to let me help her. I went to my car and held the door for her.

  “I get to ride shotgun this time? Is that safe?” She raised a brow and I nodded.

  “I want you where I can see you,” I teased. “C’mon, I live down the street.”

  I drove half a mile down the main road and turned into the little development where I lived. There were twelve houses arranged in a semicircle. Across the street, there was bright, well-maintained greenery. I parked in my driveway and got out.

  Chapter 5

  Avery

  His house was fancy. It wasn’t attached to anyone else’s house, and there were two floors, with windows either side of a big front door. The exterior was painted pale blue and there was a huge palm tree in the front yard, surrounded by a lawn. There was even a garage to protect his car. What struck me most was how clean it all was. I’d seen houses like this on the TV but never up close. How did he keep the outside of his house so clean? Did he have one of those pressure washers from the infomercials?

  He opened the door and led the way inside. A dog greeted him in the hallway with a waggi
ng tail and bright eyes.

  “Hey, boy! I missed you, too.” Rick took a moment to crouch on the floor and ruffle his dog’s fur affectionately. “This here is Avery, she’s staying with us a while.”

  “Hi.” I half-waved, not knowing if it was safe to touch the dog or not.

  “His name is Duke.”

  “Is there a story behind that?” I asked. Seemed like a funny name for a dog.

  “Yeah, there’s a story.” When Rick didn’t elaborate, I decided the dog’s name must be something private to him.

  “What sort of dog is he?” I tried instead of pressing the point about the odd name.

  “He’s a Duke.”

  It took me a moment to figure out what he meant. “One of a kind?”

  “Yeah. Duke, go to your bed.” Rick’s tone turned authoritative. He pointed down the hallway and the dog ran off at top speed.

  “So, this is your place.” I tried to fill the empty space left when Duke had departed. Dogs made conversation easy.

  “It ain’t much, but it’s home,” he quipped. I snorted with laughter.

  “That’s a joke, right? This is the fanciest house I’ve ever been inside.” To the right of the front door was the staircase. It had a fancy spindly handrail made from real wood. The flooring was all some kind of modern hardwood, with the gentle sheen of something that got taken care of.

  The floors contrasted with the walls, which were a bold succulent green. It shouldn’t have worked in a long, thin hallway but somehow, it did.

  “This way.” He kept going to the kitchen, where he got two glasses and filled them with water while I picked my jaw up off the floor.

  “Do they pay you in gold bars?” I asked. None of the gleaming cupboard doors hung off their hinges. The floor was clean and the spackle between the tiles had no black stains on it. The light fitting had a light bulb in it and a lightshade, and the windows were clean, with tasteful curtains. More than that, though, the kitchen furnishings were a symphony of black high gloss worktops and shiny chrome fittings. The sink was in an island in the middle of the room—an island! Like the ones on TV.