Chapter 2

TWO

Present day

D etective Samantha Jesse wasn't on duty for another two hours, which made it the perfect time to be sitting across from her sister in the diner. Not just because Bristol enjoyed the waffles this place served as a special on Fridays, but also because the oven in their apartment was broken again and the company in charge of repairs for the complex hadn't shown up the last three days.

Bristol had nearly white-blond hair, currently braided in what she called her "Viking" braids. Slim figure. Perfect makeup. She kicked Samantha under the table.

Samantha blinked out of her funk about the oven and looked at her sister who lifted her hand and signed, Pea brain at her . Bristol motioned to the server standing by their table.

"Huh…what?" Samantha said.

Bristol snorted. She could read lips just fine, and often let out an audible noise like a grunt or groan. She felt laughter in the vibration of the vocal chords in her throat, though a setback in development in the womb had severely impaired her hearing.

Everything else about Samantha's sister was perfect. She was a delicate flower—or so their parents had everyone believe.

Bristol was dynamite wrapped in a delicate exterior. Every guy she met fell head over heels for her, immediately started learning sign language, and inevitably got their heart broken.

Bristol was waiting for "the one."

Samantha told the server, "I'll have the Mediterranean omelet, no sides, and black coffee, please."

Bristol rolled her eyes, understanding perfectly what Samantha had ordered. She lifted the menu and pointed to it.

"The lemon raspberry pancakes?" the server asked. "Syrup?"

Bristol looked at Samantha, who mouthed the word syrup. Bristol pointed to something else on the menu.

"Blueberry sauce. Got it." The server took their menus and wandered away.

Bristol signed, What's on your mind?

Samantha made a face.

Bristol said, Tell me.

Samantha shifted on the bench seat of the booth. Her pistol, tucked in a holster at the small of her back dug into her spine. She might not be on duty, but no way would she remove it and risk leaving it behind. A rookie she'd known years ago did that. He'd been gone from the force two days later.

Bristol signed the letters C-O-D-A.

Samantha rolled her eyes. She signed back, I'm not thinking about him .

Except that now she was thinking about her ex.

At least she didn't have to explain everything to Bristol. Her sister had been there through it all. They'd lived together since Samantha got out of college and Bristol had finished high school. She'd joined the Benson Police Department, where she'd risen up the ranks to Detective First Grade. Intelligence/Major Crimes division. Bristol worked from home as a data entry specialist, but when she wasn't working, she was always out doing something.

Her sister had a vibrant social life with clubs and events all the time for the local deaf community. They had cookouts and went hiking together. This summer a group of them had run a series of 10k races as a team, raising money for services for deaf kids in Benson.

Samantha had lost a partner early this year—yet another guy who'd been half in love with her sister. She'd been transferred to Intelligence, where she was partnered with Jasper Hollingsworth, who had shortly thereafter quit to go work for Vanguard, a private investigations company—thankfully before he could meet Bristol. She liked her current partner, newly minted detective Romeo Alvarez, just fine.

He would not be meeting Bristol, ever . Samantha needed him focused on his new detective position.

Still, she was aware her sister thought her life void of any semblance of "fun." Even if they had vastly different definitions of precisely what fun meant.

No way was Samantha running a 10k.

She lifted her right hand and touched her thumb to her breastbone. I'm fine.

Bristol rolled her eyes and sat back while the server put their plates down.

Samantha said, "Thanks."

"Anything else I can get you?" The server stepped back and glanced at them both.

Samantha knew her sister's coffee preference well enough to say, "More creamer?"

"Sure thing."

Bristol flipped the little dish upside down on the table and removed it, like a cup and ball magic trick. She took the creamer she'd upended on the table and added more to her coffee—until it was more creamer than coffee. And yet her sister didn't seem to be affected by the high sugar diet she ate.

It was almost enough to convince Samantha to take up running.

Almost.

Samantha ate a couple of bites, then set her fork down. My new partner is a runner.

He cute? Bristol's brows rose.

Samantha chuckled. You're looking for a new guy already?

Her sister had broken up with a chump a few weeks ago. Samantha had thought they might stay together, but Bristol didn't tell her what the issue was. Just that it was over.

Her sister glanced at the window and watched a couple of cars pass.

The server delivered the creamers. "Anything else?"

Samantha shook her head. When the server turned, she reached across the table and waved at the edge of Bristol's field of vison. After Bristol turned back to her, Samantha motioned at the extra creamers.

The door at the far end opened, and a man stepped in.

Bristol lifted her hands, but Samantha's instincts woke up as soon as she spotted the guy. Her sister knocked her hand on the table, but Samantha signed, Hold on.

Samantha watched the man sweep into the room, shove past the hostess, and pull a handgun from under a trench coat.

He swung it around. "No one move!" The guy turned to point the gun at the hostess, who scrambled back, screaming. "Give me all the cash and credit cards in here! This is a robbery."

Samantha edged to the end of the table. She slid her phone across to her sister, unlocking it with her thumb print. She mouthed, 911 , knowing her sister would use text to communicate with emergency dispatch.

"Sir!" She stood, holding both hands up. Needing all his attention on her. "I'm sure the server can get what you want if you give them a second." She kept her tone light.

Beside her, she heard a guy whisper, "Let's tackle him. We'll take him down."

Samantha stopped. " No one is going to move. Everyone is going to stay right where they are." With her sister behind her, Bristol likely only had a limited understanding of what was going on. She wouldn't be able to read Sam's lips on anything she said. She might be able to read this gunman's lips, but she'd know enough to ask for police officers.

"That's right!" The gunman waved his weapon around, not pointing it at anyone in particular. "No one moves, just give me the money or I start shooting!"

Samantha couldn't protect everyone in the room from getting hit. Who knew where he'd be pointing that gun when he squeezed the trigger, either intentionally or accidentally. All she could do was attempt to draw his fire.

With no vest on.

She had her badge—out of sight—and her gun on her, but those would be a last resort. All she had to do was stall him long enough for backup to show and keep any of these people from getting hurt.

The gunman swung his weapon around again, leveling it on a woman between the first row of booths and the kitchen hatch. "You! Get me the money from the register!"

She flinched and dropped a tray. The sound of shattering pottery exploded like a gun going off. Samantha heard her start to cry.

"Someone better get me my money !"

The guys in the booth by Samantha were getting antsy. She took a couple of steps toward him to cut them off, and he spotted her coming. Samantha stopped. "What's your name?"

He stared at her.

"I'm Samantha, what's your name?"

"Doesn't matter. I want the money. You gonna get it for me, or am I gonna blow your head off?"

"Killing people won't get you what you want." She took another tiny step, all his attention focused on her. The gun pointed at her. "Tell me your name."

"I.P. Freely."

Samantha didn't react. Across the room a mom and two kids were crying, huddled in the corner, and this guy was making jokes? "Maybe we could sit down, Mr. Freely. Have some breakfast and talk."

"I want money. Don't you know how to listen, woman?"

She didn't want to get into whatever relationship issue put that ire in his voice. "I'm listening. That's my job, to listen to what you want."

"Just give me the money , and no one gets hurt."

"No one is going to get hurt," Samantha said. "But in order for me to help you, you'll need to put that gun down."

"I'll kill you and everyone in here!" the gunman shouted.

"Don't make this worse than it is." Samantha had to diffuse this situation. No one from the servers to the manager, if they were even here, had appeared with money to appease the man. If he left, the people inside the diner would be safe and the police could take up the job of finding him.

With Sam on his tail the guy wouldn't get far.

She got her gun out of the holster at the small of her back and lifted it at a forty-five in front of her. Held it in a loose grip. Not aimed at the gunman, but he knew who she was now.

The gunman's expression turned thunderous. They were at the precipice, where they either tumbled down the other side of the steep cliff or she finished this.

"Gun down on the floor," Samantha ordered. "Face the wall, hands behind your head."

His expression contorted into an angry rage.

The door to the diner flung open and two uniformed officers came in, guns out. "Down. Weapon down. On the floor. Nice and easy."

The first officer, an African American woman strode in, all confidence and that command presence every cop needed.

Her partner followed, an older Caucasian guy with stubble on his cheeks and a smudge of ketchup on his uniform shirt.

Samantha moved to the gunman. She saw that he'd relented in his expression and the sudden slump of his shoulders. She took the gun from his hand and passed it off to the officer, then pulled out her cuffs and secured him.

A smattering of applause sounded around the room. Then someone said, "We need help! He's having a heart attack!"

Sam handed the gunman off to the officers. "Call for an ambulance." She rushed to an older man across the room, clutching his throat. Not his arm. "Can't breathe?"

"He's having a heart attack!" A woman clutched his arm, jostling him. Panicked.

"Let go." She bent and put her head to the man's chest. Heard an erratic heartbeat. The man's panicked gaze met hers, and she saw the fear in his eyes. "Up we go." Samantha grabbed him around the chest, lifting him with her arms under his armpits.

The woman wailed, "What are you doing?"

She got her hands in position and jerked up hard and fast to his diaphragm. The guy coughed and a chunk of some kind of meat flung across the room. He sputtered and gasped. "Thanks."

Sam helped him to a chair just as the EMTs ran in. Thankfully.

Bristol grinned across the room, signing, Teach me how to do that.

Samantha rolled her eyes. She went over to her sister, grabbed her coffee, and sat on the edge of the table, finishing it. She shot her sister a look of exasperation and signed, Nice breakfast .

They really needed to get the oven fixed.

A male voice called out, "Jesse!" across the room.

Samantha turned to see her partner ease between two people and move her way through the crowd. Romeo Alvarez stopped by her, took one look at her sister, and sort of froze.

Here we go again.