Along for the Ride (2 page)
Megan didn’t know why she noticed the small detail. Perhaps it was her training or maybe it was because Ryan kept popping up around her – at work and even a few times when she went to see her sister. Kat worked with her entomologist husband at the American Museum of Natural History. Dr Vincent Richmond had helped them solve the serial-killer case and Ryan had gone to take his picture for an article. Kat and Ryan hit it off, making it even harder for Megan to avoid the man. He was like a cockroach she couldn’t get rid of.
OK, so maybe cockroach was a bit harsh. But he was a pain in the ass and she was too tired to deal with him tonight. Truth be told, Megan understood the friendship between Ryan and Kat. They were both photographers with laidback artistic mentalities. Megan has always been too edgy for such an easygoing lifestyle. She needed to be up and moving, needed the mental and physical stimulation, needed to be constantly challenged. Work did that for her.
Dazed from lack of sleep, she merely stared as he put the marker down by the diamond. When he turned to her, his dark-blue eyes struck her like a shock of cold water over the head. She blinked, coming out of her daze. Ryan would have been a handsome man, if she didn’t resent him so much. He was athletic, but not too muscled. When he smiled, two dimples lit up his face and, when he spoke, his words were infused with hints of a lazy New York accent. It was enough to give a girl chills.
‘Are you going to be at Sunday dinner?’ Ryan asked, clearly trying to make small talk.
He always did that. Didn’t he realise he’d nearly ruined her life? Well, her career, which
was
her life.
was
her life.
‘Is there a department banquet?’ Megan frowned. She didn’t remember there being any city functions on her schedule.
‘Sunday dinner with your parents,’ Ryan explained.
What in the world did
he
know about Sunday dinner with her parents? Megan automatically knew the answer. Kat. Her sister had told him.
he
know about Sunday dinner with her parents? Megan automatically knew the answer. Kat. Her sister had told him.
‘Um, yeah, probably, if I can get away,’ Megan said. It was Monday night and she really hadn’t thought that far ahead in her schedule. Who knew what the weekend would hold. She did miss her family and hadn’t been able to attend dinner the day before because of paperwork. At least now that her parents lived on Ninety-Sixth Street and Columbus, she did get to see them and her sisters more often.
Altogether, Megan had four sisters. She was the oldest of the bunch. Then there was Kat the photographer, Zoe the chef, Sasha the undecided college student and Ella the baby who was off serving in the Navy.
‘You must be pretty excited,’ Ryan said.
‘Excited?’ Megan repeated, confused. Maybe she needed sleep more than she’d realised because she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out why they were talking about Sunday dinner with her parents while in the middle of working a crime scene.
‘Because Ella’s coming home.’ Ryan gave her a small smile.
‘Oh, yeah.’ Megan pretended to know what he was talking about. The news perked her up some. It had been a while since she checked her personal messages. Was Ella making it home Sunday? It would be the first time any of them saw Ella since she left for basic training.
‘I’ll be excited to meet her.’ Ryan took the lens cap off his camera and made a few adjustments before aiming it at the jewel she’d found. His flash went off and Megan blinked hard, suddenly seeing bright spots in her vision. ‘Actually, it’ll be nice meeting the rest of your family. I’ve met Kat, obviously, and Zoe at her restaurant about a month ago when Kat and I were having lunch. I haven’t met Sasha or Ella or your parents yet, but –’
‘What are you talking about?’ Megan broke in. Didn’t this guy have a family of his own to go to? Why was he so worried about meeting all of hers? It’s not like she wanted him in her life any more than he already was. And it wasn’t as if Kat was going to date him. Kat was happily married and madly in love with her husband.
‘Sunday dinner. Kat invited me to come,’ he said, studying her. ‘Hey, are you all right? You look . . .’ He shrugged.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ Even to her own ears, her voice was flat and unenthusiastic.
‘Anyway,’ Ryan continued, again fiddling with his camera before moving to another marker to take the picture, ‘Kat’s got a meeting before dinner and she gave me the address to meet her there, but I was thinking –’ he paused, clearing his throat ‘– that maybe we could go together.’
Megan blinked slowly, not answering. Did she hear him right? Did he just ask her out on a date – to her parents’ house? Unable to answer, she actually felt sorry for the poor man. What kind of sorry loser asked a woman to go on a date with her mom, dad and sisters? It would have been mildly disturbing, if she didn’t find it somewhat pathetic.
‘You know . . . since we’re both heading there anyway,’ he said, as he took another picture.
Megan suppressed the urge to laugh in his face. He
was
asking her out on a date to her parents’ house. The fact that she’d not had a real date since her picture hit newsstands almost made her say yes. But remembering that he was the reason for it made her answer, ‘Um, no.’
was
asking her out on a date to her parents’ house. The fact that she’d not had a real date since her picture hit newsstands almost made her say yes. But remembering that he was the reason for it made her answer, ‘Um, no.’
‘What? Why?’ He lowered his camera to look at her.
Was he really surprised at her answer?
‘I don’t date co-workers,’ she said, keeping her tone light as she did her best to be more civil.
‘But we’re not really.’ Ryan moved to the next marker. The only way out of the alley was the way she’d come, which was also the direction Ryan was working his way over to. ‘I’m not a cop. I don’t keep an office at the precinct and it’s not like our work can be compromised by the other.’
‘Sorry,’ Megan said, dismissing him, ‘you’re not my type.’
‘How do you know?’
‘A woman knows.’ Megan started to edge past him, trying to make a clean getaway. The man was determined, she’d give him that. Most guys backed down after one of her curt rejections. Knowing it to be the kiss of death on any potential relationship, she lied and said, ‘I’m looking for marriage, kids, you know, the whole familial package. The next guy I go out with will be “the one”.’
If that didn’t send him running for the hills, then he was crazy. No man wanted a woman who became so serious so fast, or one who was baby and marriage focused. Megan really wasn’t either of those things. She had a good job and, if her fellow officers were any kind of example, cops made bad marriage partners. It was a natural side effect of the work. She knew as much going into the job.
‘And how do you know you’ve found the one if you don’t date around?’ Ryan asked, though he did sound less sure of himself.
The man was persistent. Well, time to be extra dingy and turn him off completely. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She heard a motorcycle engine roar behind her. ‘A man with a motorcycle. A classic, not one of those street bikes we’re always impounding.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep.’ It was all Megan could do not to laugh. She sounded certifiably insane even to her own ears. Though the fact she was even having this conversation did decide it: she needed sleep, lots and lots of sleep. It was way too much fun teasing him. ‘In fact, I would marry a guy like that with very few questions asked – so long as he was reasonably close to my age, disease free, liked children, unmarried, liked women, showered on a regular basis and had a good-paying, legal, steady job. The details are irrelevant. I know me and I know, with those few things, I would be happy.’
‘All based on the type of motorcycle he had?’ Ryan shook his head in obvious disbelief.
‘It’s not just the bike, it’s the
type
of man who’d have a bike.’
type
of man who’d have a bike.’
‘Kat mentioned you were sure of yourself,’ he said softly. ‘I guess she was right.’
At that, Megan frowned. He had talked to Kat about her? She took a step back, close to making her exit.
Ryan lifted the camera. ‘Detective Megan Matthews, a woman who knows what she wants,’ Ryan stated.
Megan wondered at the tone in his voice. He pointed the camera at her. Her mind raced as she wondered what Kat had said about her, what they’d talked about, and then she wondered why she even cared what they discussed. She took another step back.
‘Say cheese,’ Ryan said.
Megan opened her mouth, putting her foot down at the same time. A loud crunch sounded under her boot just as the camera flash went off. She stiffened in horror, looking down at the ground. As if staged as the ultimate humiliation, a yellow marker with a big number one on it stood next to her foot, pointing in Ryan’s direction so he’d have a clean shot of it. Slowly, she lifted her boot, looking down at what she’d stepped on. It was a museum artefact – a carved deity that looked really ancient, really important and now really broken into five separate pieces.
This was a disaster. She, a New York detective, had stepped on evidence – evidence from a huge museum backed by generously rich patrons and known all over the world. And Ryan caught the deed on film. Again.
Lovely. Fucking lovely.
‘You asked to go with her?’ Kat demanded more than enquired, placing her hands on the diner’s sunlit countertop. She lightly patted the solid green laminate as if to emphasise the importance of her questions. ‘You didn’t mess it up? You said it just like I told you? Word for word?’
Ryan nodded. ‘I told her you gave me the address but had a meeting and asked if we could meet up beforehand.’
‘And she said no?’ Kat frowned.
The small diner was relatively new, just down the street from where Kat and her husband worked at the DJP Scientific Department of Entomological Research, a branch of one of New York’s foremost museums. When Vincent worked through lunch, Kat would often come to the diner to get them both something to eat. And, whenever Ryan wasn’t busy, he’d pop in and keep her company. The place didn’t have much in the way of décor, just a few potted plants and classic red booths with green tabletops. A long counter stretched down one side, making a visual block to the waitress’s workstation. They always sat at the counter, as both of them liked the rounded stools bolted to the floor. The seats were fun to spin on. Yeah, he and Kat had done that, too. But, to be fair, the two little kids sitting close to them that day had started it.
Ryan sighed. Maybe he and Megan really weren’t meant to be after all. He’d tried everything to get her attention. Ever since he took her picture during the arrest of the ‘Preying Mantis’, as the press had dubbed Jersey St Claud, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She’d been so tough, so commanding, so in control of her surroundings. He hadn’t meant for her photograph to become famous like it had, but what could he say? It was a great picture and just the kind of image boost the police department needed. Really, though, it was his editor who’d pushed the picture so hard. The man was friends with the mayor and giving her the front page had been a big mark of distinction for the city’s whole political system. The masses loved to put a face to heroes and beautiful Megan Matthews was it. She was their new superwoman – beautiful, smart, law abiding and a perfect role model. Plus, it gave the citizens a sense of closure to the nightmare the Preying Mantis had caused before his arrest.
Megan was also frustrating as hell, an irritatingly perfect know-it-all who he couldn’t get out of his mind. She had the kind of dark eyes that haunted a man with their mystery, a self-confidence that was only outdone by rare moments of true vulnerability. And he’d be lying if he didn’t admit her aggressive domineering personality fuelled many late-night fantasies. What man wouldn’t want to play cops and robbers with such a woman? He knew of a few choice places he’d like to be frisked – her hands on him, controlling him, touching him.
OK, so he was mildly obsessed with her.
‘She’s proving to be a harder nut to crack than I first thought.’ Kat was the only Matthews sister to have settled down, though by the looks of her the woman hardly appeared settled. Her long dark-blonde hair was streaked with chucks of hot pink and electric purple. Pink shadow lined her eyes, matching the darker pink of her lipstick. Her clothes were just as eccentric as her makeup – platform shoes, a denim mini-skirt and a flowing camisole shirt that matched her purple hair. To see her, no one would guess she was married to a very studious well-respected scientist.
‘Kat, I’ve told you before, don’t help me if it’s only to prove your sister wrong,’ Ryan said.
‘But I am so tired of her thinking that she knows everything. And –’ Kat reached over to pat his hand ‘– she
is
wrong this time. She doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. Megan has always had to be responsible. Our mother’s a flake. Our father worked all the time and Megan got stuck taking care of four bratty sisters. I think we ruined any decent date she had before she moved out of the house and who knows if she’s dated anyone since then. She never brings them home and never mentions a boyfriend. Though, after the stuff we pulled as kids, it’s no wonder she is the way she is.’
is
wrong this time. She doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. Megan has always had to be responsible. Our mother’s a flake. Our father worked all the time and Megan got stuck taking care of four bratty sisters. I think we ruined any decent date she had before she moved out of the house and who knows if she’s dated anyone since then. She never brings them home and never mentions a boyfriend. Though, after the stuff we pulled as kids, it’s no wonder she is the way she is.’
‘I don’t know, maybe it’s time I gave up. I’ve tried everything – aloof, friendly, flirtatious. I put myself in front of her. I stayed away. I got myself invited to family dinner.’ Ryan buried his head in his hands. He wasn’t a completely pathetic loser. He did have some pride.
Didn’t he?
What was it about Megan that made it impossible for him to walk away, even after a year? Even now the idea of her aroused him. He was embarrassed to admit he had a picture of her, which he’d taken one night while she investigated a break-in on the Upper East Side, on his nightstand – and not just for decoration either. There was no particular reason he’d picked that picture over others in his growing collection of her. But it did show her brilliant dark-brown eyes and the shiny texture of her hair. She always wore it back in a bun at the nape of her neck, but he could tell it would be long if she let it go. Still, there was something very sexy about the disciplinarian hairdo. Almost all her clothes were black – simple, form-fitting, curve-hugging black. Occasionally, she wore a white linen shirt under her leather jacket.
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