as being pushed into the path of a subway train.
Who had pushed her? And why?
Random? Or a targeted attempt on her life?
“We’re heading back to our unit’s headquarters in Queens,” Carter said to Rachelle as he reined her in from questioning the witnesses.
He was determined to discover the truth about why someone would want to harm her, which meant he needed to keep her close and grill her about the incident. “Come along with us.”
“Wonderful. I live not far from there. Do you think I could get a tour of the station?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Carter looked down at Frosty, who stared at him with trusting eyes. “All right, partner, let’s head out.”
The dog’s ears perked up, his tail thumped once and then he stood. The crowd had thankfully thinned. Yet, Carter couldn’t shake the stress of seeing Rachelle tumbling off the platform onto the tracks.
“Let’s go aboveground where we can hail a taxi.”
“You don’t have a vehicle?”
“I do, but parking in the city is nearly impossible for any length of time.”
“Would you normally travel back to Queens via a cab?” she asked, her intelligent eyes studying him.
“No. Part of our job with the transit bureau is to ride the subway,” he told her. “But we can take a cab today.”
She shook her head. “Not on my account. I’d rather you do as you normally would. It would be better for my story.”
Grudgingly, he respected her dedication. He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
They walked to the platform for the downtown train and stood behind the yellow painted barrier.
He doubted Rachelle realized he’d slowed his pace to keep her within reach so he could grab her and protect her at the first sign of danger. Coming from a family with a long line of police officers, protecting others was built into his DNA.
His cell phone rang. The caller ID announced his brother Noah. Again. Two calls in one shift? Carter quelled the spike in his pulse. Noah had offered to watch Carter’s daughter, Ellie, on his day off because their parents were unavailable.
Keeping an alert eye on those around them, he pressed the button. “Hey, just about to leave the city. Your reporter friend has asked for a tour of the station.” Carter glanced at Rachelle, watching her scribble in her flowered notebook.
Noah chuckled. “Not my friend, pal. But I’m glad you’re not complaining.”
“That will happen later. It’s been exciting so far.” Traumatic would be a better descriptor but Carter would save the story for when he saw Noah.
“Well, you can start complaining now. I’ve been called into headquarters. My day off is over, and my babysitting time is up.”
Hope flared. “News on Jordy’s killer?”
Rachelle’s gaze snapped to his. Carter saw the curious gleam in her eyes. Reporter, remember! He couldn’t let his guard down around her. He’d learned the hard way the media only wanted the sensational and twisted the truth to meet their own narrative.
Noah sighed. “No. Nothing to do with the case.”
Disappointment curdled the hope.
“You’ll need to come directly home,” Noah continued. “Mom and Pop aren’t back from Fire Island yet.”
“Is Zach around?” Even though his youngest brother had married and moved out, he came around the family home often. His brothers took turns babysitting Carter’s six-year-old when their mom and dad were not available.
“On patrol this evening. And Katie’s not feeling well.”
Katie, Jordan’s widow, was five months pregnant. Carter’s heart ached knowing his oldest sibling would never get to hold his child, watch his child take his or her first steps, or hear the sweet voice of his own kid calling him Daddy.
Carter cleared his throat before he could speak. “Why don’t you bring the munchkin to the station house. I’ll grab her there.”
“Will do.” Noah hung up.
Rachelle raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” He was saved from having to explain further by the arrival of the train. “Here we go.”
They boarded a middle car. As usual, he and Frosty were greeted with a mix of nervous glances and stiffened spines or open interest. Carter gestured for Rachelle to take a seat near the car’s end door. He and Frosty stood guard.
Until he was satisfied that the attempt on Rachelle’s life had truly been a random act of violence, he planned to unearth all he could about the pretty reporter and what she might be working on that would put her life in danger.
* * *
Rachelle kept her gaze on Carter as the subway train zoomed down the track. The rhythmic noise of the rails brought back the memory of the train bearing down on her. A shudder ripped through her, setting off a maelstrom of pain from the many bumps and bruises the fall caused. She forced the horrific images of what had happened earlier away. However, the fear lingered. She’d probably have nightmares tonight.
Or dreams of strong arms, making her feel safe and secure, lifting her from the train tracks while the thunderous applause from the crowd and the bark of the world’s cutest dog rang in her ears.
She pushed the thought aside, too. It was fine she found Carter good-looking and she was grateful for his rescue, but she wasn’t looking for anything more from him than a source that would provide her a front-page story to bring justice to the world.
Or, at least, justice for his brother.
And earn her notice from prestigious news outlets.
Consciously redirecting her mind to the phone call Carter had received, curiosity burned through her veins like a wildfire. She wanted to know more about Chief Jordan Jameson’s murder. But the look of disappointment on Carter’s face had let her know the call hadn’t been about the investigation. “Who’s ‘the munchkin’?”
Carter folded his arms over his chest. “My daughter.”
Ah. A call from the wife. Why would he be asking his spouse about Jordan’s murder? “Is your wife in law enforcement, also?”
His jaw hardened. He kept his gaze forward this time. Not even looking at her. His Adam’s apple bobbed. For a long moment he stayed silent, his expression unreadable and she feared she’d just overstepped with her question.
“I’m a widower.” His voice came at her low
