Between Love and Duty

“Coffee?” Captain MacLachlan asked.

“Thank you.”

He excused himself and disappeared, leaving her to wander and examine his books—an exceptionally eclectic mix of science fiction, thrillers, historical fiction and nonfiction that covered a gamut of subjects.

He returned with a tray and gestured her toward the sofa then sat across from her in a recliner that rocked forward as he added cream to his mug of coffee. Jane doctored her own with both sugar and cream then straightened.

“All right.” His tone was abrupt, his expression uncompromising. “What’s this about?”

She cleared her throat, going into professional mode. “Has Tito told you about his living situation?”

“I know he lives with his sister. I’ve talked to Lupe a couple of times.”

Jane nodded. “Apparently his parents split up and his mother moved back to Mexico four years ago. She took three of Tito’s sisters with her. There are a couple of other older siblings somewhere in the area. Tito stayed with his father.” She gave a small shrug. “They both thought that because he’s a boy, he needed a father more than a mother.”

MacLachlan grunted. She couldn’t tell what he thought about that rather traditional view.

“What happened to the father?” he asked.

“Three years ago, he was involved in a brawl at a tavern. He knifed another man, who died.”

The police captain’s face changed then. Hardened.

Jane continued, “He was convicted of manslaughter and given a five-year term. However, he’s done what he needed to be released early.”

He leaned forward and set down the mug with a sharp click. “Don’t tell me anyone’s thinking of returning custody to him.” His incredulity was plain.

“He has every right to regain custody of his minor children,” Jane said, as sharply. “There are no allegations of abuse or neglect. He was convicted of a crime unrelated to his family. He has continued to write and call Tito and likely his other children. He sees Tito as often as Lupe can drive him to Monroe.”

“He’s a convicted felon. A man with a demonstrated history of violence. Have you even met him?”

“Not yet.”

MacLachlan made a disgusted sound. “But already you’re his advocate.”

That annoyed Jane enough to have her setting down her mug, too, so decisively that coffee splashed onto the glass tabletop. “I neither said nor implied that. I have been asked to assess possible placements for Tito. It’s possible that his father will be his best bet. In case you’re unaware, his current placement with his sister is far from ideal. There may be other possibilities, and I will consider those, as well. At the moment, I’m keeping an open mind.” Unlike you, she didn’t have to say.

They glared at each other. After a moment he gave a choppy nod, and she felt a glow of satisfaction because he was the one who had to back down. She was right; he was wrong.

“What I’m doing,” she said crisply, “is making time to talk to any adults active in Tito’s life. Lupe gave me your name, although she seemed unclear on how you’d come to be involved with him.”

He was exceptionally good at hiding his thoughts, which perhaps wasn’t surprising for a cop. Jane found it disquieting to have to wait, however, while he watched her with those cool gray eyes and apparently decided what and how much he was going to tell her.

He reached for his coffee again and took a long swallow. Jane dragged her gaze from his strong, tanned throat, and she was dismayed to feel her cheeks warming again. She silently blasted herself. What was wrong with her? She never reacted to a man like this. Think how hideously embarrassing it would be if he noticed!

“He broke into my house.”

Her eyes flew to his face. “What?”

He gave the faintest of smiles, and she bristled at the realization that he had enjoyed shocking her. “You heard me.”

Jane opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. At last, she said cautiously, “That’s how you met.”

“Yes.” Another of those smiles, barely a twitch of the lips. “The house was dark. I’d had a crappy day. When the Mariners game ended, I turned it off and I guess I fell asleep right here in my recliner. I heard the window break. I got my hands on him, discovered he’s only twelve. He claimed that he’d been dared to break into a house. He insisted he’s never done anything like that before.” His shoulders moved in a barely there shrug. “I gambled he’s telling the truth and didn’t arrest him.”

“Soo…” She drew the word out. “You became buddies instead.”

This smile approached the real thing and she could have sworn she saw a glint of amusement in his eyes. The combination was enough to make her glad she was already sitting down.

“Something like that. I told him I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. I could still arrest him at any time. I gave him a choice—spend some time with me and let me assess how honest he is, or be booked into juvie. Tito’s a smart boy.”

It seemed that Captain MacLachlan wasn’t quite as hard-assed as he was reputed to be. Tito had, somehow, some way, gotten to him.

“You could have arrested him and recommended him for diversion.” The diversion panels were made up of ordinary citizens who’d volunteered to serve. In lieu of a judge, they saw kids referred for minor crimes and were able to assign punishments. The program took a lot of pressure off the juvenile court, ensured young offenders had immediate consequences for their actions and gave them a chance to avoid having a conviction on their records.

“I could have,” MacLachlan agreed. More slowly he said, “I probably should have.” He frowned. “He looks like he’s about ten years old.”

Jane hadn’t yet met Tito. She didn’t say anything.

After a minute, MacLachlan released a sound that might have been a sigh. “I have two younger brothers who got in trouble with the law as juveniles. Tito reminded me of them. I thought I could make a difference for him.”

The gruff, unemotional voice was completely at odds with what he’d said. With his actions. Given all the pressure of his job, he had still somehow found time to spend with a troubled twelve-year-old boy.

Unless, of course… He was unmarried.

Her eyes must have narrowed. His facial muscles tightened. “No, Ms. Brooks, I am not sexually attracted to boys. Or men, for that matter.”

Oh, man. Now her face had to be flaming red. It didn’t even occur to her to deny that the possibility had crossed her mind.

“I’m sorry…”

He shook his head. “I’d think you were naive if it hadn’t occurred to you. If you’ve been at this long, you’ve seen enough horrors that you should wonder,” he said, with surprising gentleness.

“It does alter the way you look at people.”

“Try my job,” he said dryly.

“I can imagine.” She hesitated. “I suppose that’s why I was so surprised that you were making time for Tito.”

“I’ve made more than I intended.” MacLachlan was quiet for a moment. “I’ve had a good time with him.”

“What do the two of you do?”

He shrugged. “Sports. Shoot some hoops, kick around a soccer ball. I feed him. I’ve eaten more pizza and cheeseburgers since I met Tito than I’d had in months.” He sounded rueful. “He’s so damn scrawny, I keep feeling compelled to try to fatten him up.”

“His sister is petite.”

“Yeah, the dad is short and the mother even shorter from what he says. I think some of the kids give him a hard time. PE has been tough for him.”