Shield of Justice by Radclyffe Read Free Book Online Page B

grown up, not far from this very place. “I loved my parents, and I’m quite certain they loved me. I rarely saw them, however; at least that’s how it seemed to me then. They had me later in life; I think I may have actually been an accident. They were both very active in their professions, and I lived away at school from the time I was ten.”
    Rebecca watched her while she spoke, hearing the distant tone creep into her voice as she remembered aloud. She heard the sadness, too. “Were you lonely?”
    Catherine stared, surprised by the question, wondering how she knew. “I was,” she admitted. “I always got the feeling that I was an interloper in their lives. They were madly in love, I know now, and I don’t think that they really needed—or wanted—a child to make that complete.”
    Her parents had always maintained an emotional closeness with each other that sometimes made Catherine feel excluded. As a result, although this was something she didn’t share with Rebecca, Catherine was reserved in her own personal life. She wasn’t interested in casual relationships, and she’d never found anything to compare to the intensity of what she had witnessed between her parents.
    She smiled at Rebecca, who was regarding her seriously. “Don’t misunderstand. They were loving and supportive, and I wouldn’t have traded them, now or then.”
    Rebecca nodded. “So noted.” Realizing they had strayed into very personal terrain, she searched for more causal ground. “What do you do for entertainment?”
    “I love to read and take long bike rides. I’m a sucker for old movies, and I have been known to spend several hours in a bookstore on more than one Sunday morning,” Catherine answered. “How about you?”
    Rebecca grinned ruefully. “Ah. I’m a pretty typical cop, I’m afraid. When I’m not working, I’m working out. I have on occasion been known to read a book, though.”
    “How did you decide on law enforcement?”
    “I didn’t decide,” Rebecca said with a shrug. “I was born into it, like a lot of cops. My father was a beat cop for forty years, just like
his
father. I always knew I would be a cop, too. I took a slight detour and went to college first, but there was never any question I would be a street cop.”
    “And do you like it?” Catherine asked, interested professionally on one level but much more intrigued because she wanted to know the woman beneath the cop’s armor.
    Rebecca looked startled, as if the idea were new to her. “There’s nothing to like or not like. It’s what I do.”
    It’s what I am
. She didn’t say that, but Catherine heard the words nevertheless. Rebecca’s pride and satisfaction were evident in her voice. She looked more at ease now than Catherine had ever seen her, and Catherine found herself appreciating the handsome detective’s quiet charm and attentive companionship.
    “A family legacy, I see,” Catherine commented lightly. “I’m sure your father is proud.”
    “He was,” Rebecca admitted, her expression distant. Then she added, her voice steady, “He answered a domestic dispute call eight years ago. When the wife opened the door, her husband shot her and my father. He died at the scene.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Catherine responded softly, appreciating the depth of the detective’s loss.
    “Thanks,” Rebecca acknowledged. “It happens.” She smiled faintly at Catherine and pushed back in her chair, letting the memory go. She didn’t want to think about that now, not when she was enjoying the doctor’s company so much. “I promised no shop talk,” she added. “Tell me about the next movie on your list to see.”
    Catherine complied, and they lingered long after the other diners had departed, only leaving when neither of them could hide her weariness. They drove in companionable silence through the now quiet streets, and, for the first time in weeks, Rebecca didn’t think about work. What she thought about was the hint of Catherine