"I read about a reporter who bought a portable copy machine, carried it with him to some government office, and started going through files and photocopying everything," Natalie told her. "As long as the documents are public, they can't stop you from walking in there and looking through them."
But Kat barely heard her. Ahead of them in the newsroom she spotted Gabe standing by the intern desk, a cup of coffee in his hand, a smile on his face. He was deep in conversation with Holly, who leaned in, touched her hand against his arm, and said something that made him laugh.
Kat's step faltered, a strange, jagged emotion catching in her chest.
Beautiful Holly, with her blond hair, big brown eyes, and perfect body. Horny Holly, who went through men ... the way Gabe went through women.
They were as alike as two kernels of corn from the same cob. And they were obviously enjoying one another's company.
"Don't let it get to you, Kat," Sophie whispered from behind her. "Holly knows better. Besides, the way that Gabe was watching you this morning, I'd say she wouldn't stand a chance anyway."
Kat felt strangely reassured by Sophie's words, as if what she were feeling were ... jealousy?
At that moment, Gabe turned and caught sight of her, and his smile broadened.
"See?" Sophie whispered. "He's not interested in Holly."
But Kat wasn't so sure.
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND. If Grandpa Red Crow had been drinking in secret all these years, why was his liver not damaged?"
"Maybe he didn't drink that often." Gabe looked over at Kat and saw that her knuckles were white, her hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive?"
They'd done their interviews with Natalie and were on their way back into Boulder, where Kat hoped to use the new portable copier she had just talked her boss into buying to photocopy all documents in the city's Mesa Butte files. Gabe thought it was a bad plan, one that was more likely to get her arrested than get her the documents she wanted, but she was determined.
She tossed him an angry look. "I'm fine."
He didn't know whether he should call her on her lie or not. She hadn't been fine all morning. Ever since she'd come out of the I-Team meeting she'd seemed upset. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was irritated with him, though he couldn't figure out why. For once, he couldn't think of anything he might have done to piss her off--unless she'd checked the intern computer and had seen what he'd been up to this morning.
While she'd been in the meeting, he'd called Hunter and arranged to meet with him and Darcangelo for lunch. Then he'd gone back down to speak with Cormac, the security guard, and had worked with him to arrange special parking for Kat in the secured underground parking garage so that he wouldn't have to worry about some asshole firing at her while she walked from her truck to the building. When that was done, he'd come back upstairs and had spent the next thirty minutes reading about Navajo traditions--Navajo sexual traditions, specifically.
What he'd read online had proved to him that Kat was very much a modern Navajo, caught between her people's mores and the very different beliefs of the world around her. It had also made him realize how he must look through her eyes.
Can you say "man slut," Rossiter? Sure you can.
Traditional Navajo culture held that sex was for making babies and that masturbation was evil, beliefs reinforced by Navajo creation stories. From what Gabe had read, solo sex was a forbidden topic, something people simply didn't discuss, lumped in with sodomy, homosexuality, pedophilia, and rape. Exposing one's genitals, even to one's husband or wife, was still considered shameful by some, sex something to be done at night in the dark in silence. And until recently, oral sex had been illegal on the rez. Taken together, he could see why Kat was still a virgin--and why she'd looked so shocked when he'd asked her to show him how she brought herself to orgasm.
It's a wonder she didn't smack your face, buddy.
But she looked like she wanted to hit something now, a kind of angry expression on her face he'd never seen before. This was about Grandpa Red Crow's autopsy report. It had to be. He'd seen her looking through the report again this morning while Natalie was interviewing him and had later glanced at it himself. The old man's blood-alcohol content had come back just under the limit for drunk driving.
"I just think that the coroner would have found something--some sign that he was an alcoholic." She was obviously still in denial.
"I know how upset you must be." He knew better than most what it was like to feel betrayed. "It isn't easy being let down by someone you loved and trusted."
She stiffened. "So he fell off the wagon and then somehow managed to fall off the cliff, is that it?"
"I don't know. I think it's very possible that foul play--"
"It's possible?" She shot him a scathing glance.
And once again Gabe got the distinct impression she was pissed at him. He drew a deep breath and took the plunge. "Are you upset with me about something?"
"Upset with you? Why would I be upset with you?" she asked in that female tone of voice that said, "Of course, I'm upset with you, and if you don't know why, then you're just a stupid man!"
So that's a universal female thing.
Gabe found it strangely reassuring to know that Navajo men had to put up with it, too. He waited a moment, not sure whether to press the issue or just let it drop.
"I saw you talking to Holly earlier," Kat said after a moment. "It looked like you two get along well."
Holly was the sexy blonde who'd walked up to him, looked him up and down, and then started flirting with him. And then Gabe understood. As hard as it was for him to comprehend, he knew it was true. "You're jealous."
He'd expected Kat to deny it or grow enraged with him. Instead, she seemed to crumple, her shoulders slumping, the anger on her face dissolving into a look of misery. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like a mole. I have no claim on you, no right to feel upset if--"
"Acting like a ... a what?" He wasn't keeping up here.
"A ... a mole--being cross to you, being angry." She drew a breath and went on. "Holly's a beautiful woman. All men want her. I know that. I have no right--"
"You mean a shrew." Gabe bit his lip to keep from laughing. He forgot sometimes that English wasn't Kat's first language.
She looked over at him, clearly confused. "Shrew? Are you sure?"
He nodded, fighting to keep a straight face. "Yeah."
"Well, either way, I'm sorry. I saw you taking with Holly, and I just ... I care about you more than you want me to care, Gabe Rossiter."
The sincerity of her words struck him in the chest, the truth they'd both been avoiding laid bare before them. But, surprisingly, it wasn't a cynical rebuke that came to Gabe's mind. Instead, he found himself feeling like an ass. Here she was, miserable and vulnerable, telling him how she felt with no pretence, making no demands and no excuses, and until this moment, he'd been amused by the whole thing.
"Pull over." Gabe pointed to the shoulder of the highway.
She glanced at him in surprise. "What? But--"
"Pull over." He couldn't let her go on feeling like this. "Just do it."
She flipped on her turn signal. "Okay, but you can't walk here. The highway is closed to pedestrians, and it's--"
"I'm not getting out."
She drew over to the shoulder, braked, and put the truck in park. Then she turned toward him. "What--"
Gabe slipped his hand behind her head, leaned over and took her mouth with his in a deep kiss, his tongue dominating hers, caressing, coaxing, until his lips ached, until he'd tasted her mouth in every way he could, until they were both breathless. Then, pulse roaring in his ears, he drew back, tucked a finger beneath her chin, and forced her to meet his gaze, her pupils dilated, her lips swollen and wet.
"You're right, Kat--you've got no claim on me. I've made no promises, and we both know I never will. But you've got no reason to feel jealous of Holly. I'm sure there are lots of men who'd do or say
anything to get inside her, but I'm not one of them. I don't want her. I want you."
Then, unable to help himself, he kissed her again.
CHAPTER 16
ACTING WITH A calm she did not feel, Kat stuck another document in the little copier and pressed the button. A flash of light, a whirring sound--and another copy emerged. Gabe took it, tucked both it and the original into their respective folders, while Kat stuck another page in the machine and pressed the button again.
It was an efficient system, but Kat wished they could go faster. In the office next door, Mr. Feinman was having a heated discussion via cell phone with his boss, Paul Martin, the city manager. Though she couldn't hear what he was saying, she knew that if he had his way, he'd shut down their little operation, confiscate the copies they'd made, and have them escorted from the building by security. It had made him angry enough when he'd seen Kat with the Mesa Butte files in her hands. But when he'd seen Gabe and the copy machine, he'd come unglued.
"You!" he'd shouted, pointing a finger at Gabe. "You shouldn't be here! Your employment with the city has been terminated! I might not be able to throw her out of the building, but I can have you arrested!"
Kat had been about to explain that Gabe has as much right as any other citizen to look at public records, but Gabe had cut her off.
"Relax, lawyer man," he'd said, the gleam in his eyes telling Kat that he was enjoying himself. "I'm here on behalf of the newspaper, too. As you may have heard, someone tried to kill Ms. James yesterday. Since I no longer work for the city, I accepted a position as her bodyguard."
He'd appointed himself her "bodyguard," of course, but Kat had let that little misstatement slide.
A troubled expression had passed over Feinman's face, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I did hear about that. Regrettable." Then he'd looked at Gabe, obviously still angry. "As for your being her bodyguard, you've been helping her all along, haven't you? Mr. Martin will not tolerate this."
Then Mr. Feinman had stormed into the office and slammed the door behind him.
Kat hadn't bothered to tell him that the receptionist had already called Mr. Martin, and Mr. Martin, having a cooler head than his staff, had told the receptionist to help Kat and Gabe in any way she could. Of course, there was always a chance that Mr. Feinman would change Mr. Martin's mind.
Feeling a keen sense of urgency, Kat took out the next document and discovered that it was a folded map and much too big for the copier.
"Do it in sections." Gabe took the map to show her what he meant.
Kat pressed the copy button, then leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. "If he comes out and tells us we have to stop, take the documents we've copied and go back to my truck."
"You're not walking out of this building alone." He leveled her a look that brooked no argument.
"Just put the documents in my truck, and then you can come back for me." She flipped the map over, pushed the button.
"If you promise me to stay inside and away from the front door."
"I promise."
The door opened and Feinman emerged, his face mottled but his expression calm. "Mr. Martin tells me he has no objection to this, so you're free to continue."
"I think we already know that," Gabe said with a grin, taking another copy from the machine. Then he repeated almost word for word what Kat had told the receptionist. "Whether he objects or not, Mr. Feinman, what we're doing is permitted under the Colorado Open Records Act. Check the statute yourself if you have any doubts."
"I am familiar with the statute," Feinman ground out from behind a tight smile.
"Good. Then I guess that means you'll drop the threats and get busy doing whatever it is the city pays lawyers to do."
Both shocked and amused at Gabe's rudeness, Kat looked up--and caught an expression of utter loathing on Feinman's face just before he turned and walked away.
"You didn't have to say that last part, you know," she said later as they headed back to Denver, a fat folder of documents on the seat between them.
Gabe grinned. "I know. I was just having fun."
GABE SAW KAT safely back to the paper, turning his firearm over to Cormac, who clearly viewed his job--and himself--with a renewed sense of importance.
"Nothing out of the ordinary to report, sir," the security guard said gravely.
"Thanks, Cormac. I'm glad you're on our side." Gabe gave Cormac a solemn nod--but didn't miss the tiny smile that played on Kat's lips at this exchange.
When they got to the elevator, Gabe stopped, his mind made up. "Are you going to be here a while?"
Kat nodded. "I've got an article to write by deadline at four, and then I have to organize these files. I won't be going anywhere."
"Do you mind if I borrow your truck? I have some things I need to do."
"Sure." She fished her keys out of her pocket and handed them to him.
He touched a finger to the tip of her nose. "Just promise you won't leave the building for anything. If something comes up, call me."
"I promise."
"Good." He ducked down, pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be back by midafternoon at the latest."
Twenty minutes later, he walked through the front door of the local community clinic and up to the reception desk, where a young woman with short red braids sat chewing gum and typing into a computer. A goldfish bowl filled with condoms in colorful wrappers sat on the counter, while a poster on the wall behind her blared, "Do you know your HIV status?"
Gabe didn't, and that's why he was here.
The woman looked up and smiled. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here for the walk-in testing." For someone who'd fucked as freely as he had for the past three years, Gabe felt strangely embarrassed. He didn't want to do this, but for Kat's sake he would. If there was any chance that he might end up having sex with her, he wanted to know for certain that he wouldn't hurt her.
The young woman handed him a pen and a medical history form. "If you could grab a clipboard, fill out this form, and sign the back, we'll get you signed in. Which test do you want--HIV, hepatitis, syphilis, HPV, chlamydia or--"
"All of them."
"MAYBE IF I had gone to him privately and shown him the evidence I had and given him the chance to come clean ..." Matt didn't finish the sentence, but left the thought hanging, his lunch of Chinese takeout seemingly forgotten.
"It's not your fault, Matt." Kat sprinkled a packet of soy sauce over her rice. "Tom could have been more tactful--"
"When is that not the case?" Tessa interjected.
"--but what he said is the truth. This man stole from his coworkers, and when he got caught, he stole from his wife and children by ending his own life and depriving them of a husband and father."
It was a rare occasion when the I-Team, past and present, came together. Usually, it meant that something terrible had happened. The last time they'd all been together in the same room, Sophie had been taken hostage by a convicted murderer--Marc--and was missing in the mountains. This time, Kat had narrowly escaped being shot, and the man Matt had exposed for embezzlement had killed himself. Knowing Kat couldn't go out to lunch, Kara and Tessa had brought lunch to the office, each carrying a box loaded with takeout containers into the conference room. Now a buffet of egg rolls, sesame chicken, kung pao beef, moo shoo pork, fried rice, and steamed vegetables, together with soy sauce, rice, and fortune cookies, was spread out across the large conference table, the mingled scents making Kat's mouth water.
Across the table, Kara dipped an egg roll in mustard sauce. "Kat's right. You've got to quit blaming yourself, Matt."
Matt slid his fingers through his hair, his face screwing up in a look of anguish. "I wanted to grab a headline, to break big news, and I ruined his life--and the lives of his wife and kids."
"No!" A chorus of denials filled the room.
"You didn't ruin his life." Kat picked up her fork. "He did that himself."
Natalie reached over and laid a hand on Matt's arm. "He
made his own choices, Matt. He chose to steal and to keep stealing. Then he chose to shoot himself--in front of his family, no less. You didn't choose any of that for him."
Sophie nodded, dabbing her lips with a paper napkin. "You did exactly what you're supposed to do--your job."
"I once panned a local songwriter's album." Holly poked at her steamed veggies, not a single grain of rice on her plate. "It was his second album, and it wasn't nearly as good as the first. He died of a drug overdose the night after my article ran. I always felt bad about that. But I didn't sell him drugs. I didn't stick the needle in his vein. Sometimes what we do hurts people's feelings or gets them into trouble, but that's not our fault. They're to blame for how they react, not us."
It was the most profound thing Kat had ever heard Holly say.
Matt drew a deep breath and seemed to consider this. "Thanks, everyone. What would I do without you?"
"You'd drink a lot more," Tessa quipped, making everyone laugh.
Then Kara looked over at Kat. "So, Kat, I want to hear everything about--"
"Oh, God, he's so hot!" Holly interrupted, a bright smile on her face.
Kara glared at her and went on. "--the shooting at Mesa Butte and this story you're working on. And if you want to toss in any details about this super-sexy ranger who saved your life, I won't stop you."
Kat couldn't help but smile.
ON HIS WAY back from the clinic, Gabe grabbed a quick burger with Hunter and Darcangelo, the three of them trying to come up with a game plan to find the bastard who'd threatened Kat and tried to kill her. They agreed to focus on two objectives: tracking down the source of the death threats and learning everything they could about the illegal trade in Native artifacts. Gabe and Hunter would focus on the former, while Darcangelo, with his federal contacts, would tackle the latter.
With that sorted out, Gabe drove back to the paper and made his way toward the newsroom, stopping in the men's restroom to take a leak and remove the little bandage the lab tech had taped over his vein when he'd finished drawing Gabe's blood. He didn't want Kat to see it. He planned on having the STD conversation with her before they had sex--if they had sex--but he didn't want to have that conversation here.