Once a Lawman

“I know your type.”

“What’s my type?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Tessa spun toward him, her mouth falling open at his compliment.

Desire caught in Chad’s chest. He wanted to kiss her. “Vivacious,” he continued. “Reckless.”

“I am not reckless.”

“Your driving record proves otherwise.”

She shrugged. “A few speeding tickets. And I’m not reckless. You don’t know me.”

“You’re wrong,” he murmured as she ground the engine, then peeled out of the ramp with such speed the gate rattled. “I know you, Tessa Howard.”

Dear Reader,

I am so excited to be starting a new series for Harlequin American Romance—CITIZEN’S POLICE ACADEMY, based on my participation in the Grand Rapids, Michigan, Citizen Police Academy. The police department sponsors this program to educate the community about how they operate. I learned a lot, but most of all I developed such appreciation and understanding for how difficult and dangerous a career in law enforcement is. The people who choose these careers are very special.

While the officers in the Lakewood Police Department are purely fictional, I’ve imbued them with some of the sterling qualities of the officers I met in the GRPD. And I can’t wait to give each of these characters the happily-ever-after they deserve.

Once a Lawman is also part of the MEN MADE IN AMERICA miniseries, a yearlong celebration of American heroes. In 2009 look for one book a month that celebrates the hunky American male!

Happy reading!

Lisa Childs

Once a Lawman

Lisa Childs

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bestselling, award-winning author Lisa Childs writes paranormal and contemporary romance for Harlequin/Silhouette Books. She lives on thirty acres in west Michigan with her husband, two daughters, a talkative Siamese and a long-haired Chihuahua who thinks she’s a rottweiler. Lisa loves hearing from readers who can contact her through her Web site, www.lisachilds.com, or by snail-mail at P.O. Box 139, Marne, MI 49435.

A special thank-you to Watch Commander, Lieutenant Mark Ostapowicz, of the Grand Rapids Police Department, for his patience and helpfulness in answering my many, many questions while I was a participant in the Citizen Police Academy and my many questions in the course of writing this book. Any factual mistakes are entirely my fault.

And much gratitude to Kathleen Scheibling for contracting this series of my heart for Harlequin American Romance.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

Tessa Howard glanced around the courtroom, crowded with whispering people of all walks of life: elderly, teenagers and young professionals like herself. The knot of tension in her stomach eased. He wasn’t going to show up. I’m almost free.

Maybe taking the time to fight her ticket in traffic court hadn’t been wasted. If the officer who’d given her the ticket failed to show up, the speeding charge would be dropped. She glanced at her watch, the knot of tension tightening again as she thought of the appointments she was missing. While she couldn’t afford the time waiting in court was taking, she could afford another ticket even less.

“Tessa Howard,” the bailiff called her to the bench.

Tessa stood, refastened the button on her suit jacket, and tugged down the skirt that had ridden up her thighs. She swung her straight blond hair over her shoulder. The hair flip, as usual, attracted male attention. From her career in telecommunication sales—and her maternal grandmother—Tessa had learned that a smart woman used her brains and her femininity to get what she wanted. Of course, neither of them had gotten her out of her ticket. Yet.

She drew in a deep breath. After crawling over the other people in her row, she stepped into the aisle and, heels clicking on the tile floor, approached the bench.

“You’re in my court again, Ms. Howard,” the judge commented as she approached. “Speeding?”

“No, sir, I wasn’t speeding. The officer must have confused my car with someone else’s,” she insisted. What was it that Nana Howard had always claimed? A lie well told and stuck to is just as good as the truth.

Her grandmother had freely imparted her sometimes unconventional bits of wisdoms. Nana-isms had probably prepared Tessa more for her career than the marketing classes at Lakewood Community College had.

A smile tugged up the corner of the judge’s mouth, softening the older man’s austere face. “Is that true, Lieutenant Michalski?”

Tessa’s heart skipped a beat. She’d thought she was home free, that the uptight lieutenant had been too busy to make her little court date…

Her pulse quickened as she realized he stood right beside her, his long, muscular body clad in the black uniform of the Lakewood, Michigan Police Department. She tilted her head to see his face.

He’d lost the sunglasses he’d worn the day he had pulled her over, but still she couldn’t see his eyes. He stared straight ahead, as completely uninterested in her as he had been when he’d given her the ticket. She hadn’t been able to flirt her way out of this violation, as she had some others.

“Lieutenant Michalski?” the judge prodded him.

“Ms. Howard’s SUV was the only vehicle within radar range. She was definitely the one speeding.”

“I wasn’t going as fast as you said,” she persisted.

“Eleven miles over the speed limit,” he stated unequivocally—and correctly.

“But eleven miles…” Wasn’t that many over the limit—it certainly wasn’t as reckless as he had claimed it was. She would never drive recklessly. Too many people depended on her.

“Eleven miles over is still speeding, Ms. Howard. The ticket stands,” the judge ruled. “Pay your fine.”

“Your Honor, please,” she beseeched him. “I had a good reason for speeding.” Which she had tried to tell Lieutenant Michalski, but he hadn’t cared.

“So now you were speeding, Ms. Howard? A minute ago you assured me you weren’t,” the judge reminded her.

“But…” She bit her lip and refrained from explaining that her mother’s car had broken down. As the lieutenant had said when she’d offered him the excuse, her mother should have called the Auto Club instead of Tessa.

But Tessa actually had been on the way to pick up her younger brother, Kevin, not her mother. Recognizing an unsympathetic listener, she hadn’t bothered explaining about her teenage brother and that if someone didn’t pick him up from high school, he would disappear for the night, getting into only God knew what trouble.

She doubted the court would be any more sympathetic than the police officer. And she doubted it was a good idea to mention her brother to the authorities at all, especially now. So far he had avoided getting into trouble with the law, and dealt just with school and her for tardiness and skipping classes.

“Yes, Ms. Howard?” the judge prodded her.

She released her lip and admitted, “If I get any more tickets on my record, the Secretary of State will pull my license.”

“Considering her driving record, losing her license would probably be a good thing,” the lieutenant commented, staring straight ahead.

“But if I lose my license, I’ll lose my job,” she said, as panic shortened her breath. “I can’t afford to lose my job…” For so many reasons. Hers wasn’t the only head over which she had to keep a roof.

“You should have considered that before you started speeding, Ms. Howard,” the judge remarked with no sympathy.

“May I make a suggestion, Your Honor?” the police officer asked.

The judge’s eyes narrowed warily, but then he nodded. “Of course you may, Lieutenant Michalski.”

“Maybe the citation, and the subsequent loss of her license, isn’t the most fitting punishment for Ms. Howard’s violation.”

“You gave me the ticket,” she whispered, sending him a glare, which she doubted he would see. But he had finally turned toward her, his gaze intent on her face. His eyes were green, with flecks of gold. With his black hair, she had figured they’d be brown or blue. She shook her head, disgusted that she had spent so much time—time she didn’t have to spare—thinking about his eyes.

“You have a more suitable punishment?” the judge asked him.

“More education than punishment,” the lieutenant alluded, “I think Ms. Howard could learn a lot about obeying speed limits and the law in general if she were to enroll in Lakewood Police Department’s Citizens’ Police Academy.”

The judge leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. “Interesting…”

“What—how?” she stammered, lifting her palms up. “I don’t even know what the Citizens’ Police Academy is. I don’t want to be a police officer.”

“It’s not the police academy,” the lieutenant assured her, grinning slightly as if he were amused. “It won’t make you a police officer, although some people enroll to see if they might want to pursue a career in law enforcement. It will help you understand police procedure—the how and why.”

Like why certain police officers were too rigid to let a driver off with just a warning? She bit her lip again so she wouldn’t ask the question. No sense antagonizing him when he seemed to be changing his mind about the ticket.

“It’s a great program,” the judge enthused. “The Lakewood PD Watch Commander, Lieutenant O’Donnell, has been putting it on for a few years to promote community involvement and relations. The chief and the city council have made certain there’s money in the budget for it, so there’s no charge for the public to participate. Some officers have been known to donate their time just to make certain it doesn’t go over budget.”

Did Lieutenant Michalski donate his time? Would he be part of the program?

“It sounds interesting,” she belatedly agreed with the judge to humor him. In truth, she didn’t have any interest in the program or Lieutenant Michalski.

“Then you’ll agree to enroll?”

“I would, but I have a job,” she reminded them. At least she did for now. “I can’t afford to miss any time from work.”

“The CPA meets only one night a week,” the lieutenant explained. “Wednesdays from six-thirty to ten for fifteen weeks.”

Tessa’s breath caught. Fifteen weeks. “I really—”

“Don’t have a choice if you want to keep your license,” the judge pointed out. “The ticket or the class, Ms. Howard?”

“The class,” she begrudgingly replied. Then she reminded herself what one more ticket would have cost her. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

“Don’t thank me,” the judge said, “It was the lieutenant’s idea.”

She turned toward her benefactor. “Thank you.”

While his jaw remained taut, his mouth unsmiling, his green eyes brightened—no doubt with more amusement at her expense, over the predicament she was in. “You’ll enjoy the class, Ms. Howard.”

“I doubt that.”

“I won’t be participating,” he assured her.

She smiled. “Then maybe I will…”

“YOU’RE GOING to have to participate,” the watch commander, Lieutenant Patrick O’Donnell, told Chad, his back to him as he climbed the steps to his office, the glass walls of which rose above the reception area where interns sat at the front desk, taking nonemergency calls and buzzing in visitors.

Chad followed him, protesting, “Paddy—”

“You’re the emergency vehicle operation instructor for the police department,” the commander pointed out, as he settled into the chair behind his counter-height, U-shaped desk, “as well as for the Lakewood University’s Police Academy.”

“Yeah, the police academy—”

“Now you’re the instructor for the citizens’ police academy, too,” Paddy said. His eyes, nearly the same reddish brown as his hair, crinkled at the corners as he grinned.

While they were both lieutenants, being watch commander gave Paddy more authority. He doled out assignments. Chad couldn’t turn one down—even though police participation in the program was supposed to be voluntary.

“Hey, you’ve been recruiting for the class,” Paddy reminded him, “You should help.”

Although Chad leaned against the doorjamb, he couldn’t relax—he hadn’t been able to since he’d first pulled over a black SUV driven by a certain blue-eyed blonde. “I only recruited one person.”

“Tessa Howard.” The watch commander never forgot a name. “What’s the story with her?”

Chad shrugged tense shoulders. “Nothing. I gave her a ticket for speeding. She tried to fight it in traffic court.”

“And lost?”

“She would have lost her license…” And she probably should have. Before giving her the ticket, he’d run her record and had seen all her speeding warnings and citations—one for going too fast for conditions that had resulted in a minor property damage accident.

“So you talked the judge into enrolling her in the class instead of giving her a ticket?” Paddy whistled with surprise. “I’ve never known you to let anyone off a ticket.”

Chad mentally kicked himself for stepping in with his brilliant suggestion. Now if anything happened to Ms. Howard, it was his fault. His idea made her his responsibility now. He straightened. “I just thought she’d learn a lot from the class and that she might come to understand how reckless speeding is.” He was actually counting on it.

“If you teach the traffic/defensive driving session of the class, she will,” Paddy said. “You can personally explain to her the consequences of speeding.”

Because he’d lived with—or actually without—the consequences? Chad shook his head. “No. I would never get personal with Tessa Howard.”

“Junior—” Chad wasn’t actually a junior, but because of his reputation as an expert driver, he’d been nicknamed Dale Earnhardt, Jr. “The problem is that you don’t get personal with anyone,” the commander continued, “not since your wife died.”

Chad sucked in a breath. Although it had been four years since Luanne’s death, those last three words struck him like a battering ram in the gut. He still missed her—what they’d had and what they could have had—what they should have had.

“It’s been a long time, Chad,” Paddy said, his deep voice soft with sympathy and understanding.

Chad nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes too long. Sometimes not long enough…” For the loss to stop hurting.

Paddy’s eyes locked on Chad’s. “It’s been long enough. Luanne would have wanted you to move on.”

She probably would have, but Chad wasn’t ready. He doubted he’d ever be ready.

“How long you been divorced, Paddy?” he asked his friend.

The watch commander dropped his gaze to his desk as he shuffled some files. “That’s different.”

“Yeah.” Paddy could see his ex again whereas Luanne was gone forever. If only she hadn’t been speeding that day…He’d warned her so many times to slow down.

He was kidding himself to think Tessa Howard would learn anything in the academy. If he hadn’t been able to get through to his own wife, how would he get through to her? “This was a bad idea.”

“What was?” Paddy asked distractedly as he shoveled through the files on his desk. The radio next to a flat-screen monitor crackled with the dispatcher’s voice sending out units on the latest 911 calls. Messages also flashed across the screen. The watch commander divided his attention between the calls and the files. But from the half-empty coffee mugs on his desk and atop the file cabinets, he was used to people dropping by his office to talk, too.

So Chad didn’t feel too badly for taking up his time. “I should have kept my mouth shut in court.” He sighed. “Hell, I probably shouldn’t have shown up at all.”

“The judge would have thrown out the ticket then.”

“He threw it out anyway.” Because of Chad’s interference. He pushed a hand through his hair. “Do you really need my help with the academy?”

Paddy looked up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowed. Then he nodded. “I can’t wait to meet Ms. Howard.”

“It’s not like that…”

“Like what?” Paddy asked. “She isn’t young and pretty?”

“She’s twenty-seven,” he recalled from her license, which had actually had a good picture—although he couldn’t imagine her taking a bad one. “So yeah, she’s young.” He glanced at his watch, but he didn’t have anyplace to go. His shift had ended.

“And pretty?”

She wasn’t just pretty. With her spunk and sass, she was so much more. Thinking of her bright blue eyes and golden blond hair, gorgeous was the word that most readily sprang to his mind. Since the day he had pulled her over, he had thought about her—too much. The way she had batted her thick black lashes and had spoken in a breathy voice, trying to flirt her way out of the ticket. Then in court, the way she’d gnawed her bottom lip…

He suppressed a groan and lied to the watch commander, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Paddy laughed, knowing him so well that he had to realize Chad lied. “Well, helping me out as one of the class instructors will give you time to notice.”

“She probably won’t even show up.” He hoped.

HIS STOMACH FLIPPED as Tessa Howard, blond hair swinging around her shoulders, settled onto a chair at the table in the front row—just feet away from where Chad Michalski sat with the other instructors. While most of the rest of the class had dressed casually in either jeans or khakis and sweaters or sweatshirts, Tessa wore a suit similar to the one she’d worn in court. A tailored, pinstriped navy blue jacket cinched her slim waist while a slim pencil skirt ended above her knees but inched farther up her thighs as she crossed her legs.

Chad swallowed hard and shifted on his chair. If only he’d kept quiet in court…

The watch commander nudged his shoulder. “Tessa Howard?”

He nodded.

“Now I understand why—”

Chad nudged him back. “Don’t you have a class to teach?”

Paddy grinned, but stood up and addressed the group of citizens and instructors gathered in the third-floor meeting room. “Welcome to the Lakewood Police Department’s Citizens’ Police Academy.”

Welcome? Tessa bit her bottom lip to hold in a chuckle. Welcome implied she attended the class of her own free will. Her attention shifted from the man standing before the table at the front of the spacious, white-walled, low-ceilinged room to one of the men sitting behind the table. Her gaze locked with Lieutenant Chad Michalski’s.

“Oh, good choice,” murmured the girl beside Tessa. She leaned closer as if they were passing notes in class. “He’s single, too. I already checked. He’s a little old for me, though, but he sure is yummy.”

Tessa snorted although she wasn’t certain to what she’d taken exception—the lieutenant being called yummy or old. He definitely wasn’t old; she estimated early thirties, at the most. He continued to stare at her, his jaw taut probably with disapproval, as if she were the one talking during class. Because she’d been late, she’d had no choice of where to sit—the chair next to the young girl at the first table had been the only one still vacant.

“We’re going to go around the room and have everyone introduce themselves,” the officer continued. He was obviously the leader of the class. From the e-mail she had received with the date, time and directions to the police department, she had learned his name was Lieutenant Patrick O’Donnell. “And then I’ll introduce the other instructors. A little later we’ll meet the chief of police and the district captains.”

Tessa had lived her entire twenty-seven years in Lakewood, Michigan, but yet she had no idea how many districts comprised the bustling, midsized city. The only contact she’d had with the police department, besides getting and paying for tickets, had been when she’d tried to sign them up for their phone and Internet service accounts.

O’Donnell stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the table at which Tessa sat, her briefcase propped against her chair. “Let’s start with this table.”

With a giggle, the young girl spoke up. “My name’s Amy, Amy Wilson. I’m a college student, and I joined the academy because I’m interested in law enforcement.”

Tessa held in another derisive snort. The girl was obviously more interested in law enforcers than enforcement. The dark-haired woman on the other side of Tessa smiled, apparently having drawn the same conclusion. Lieutenant O’Donnell nodded at Tessa to introduce herself. “Tessa Howard. I’m a sales rep for a telecommunications company.”

“And your reason for joining the academy?” he prodded.

She glanced at Chad, who smirked. The truth stuck in her throat, so she smiled and joked, “I thought maybe I’d get some inside information on where the speed traps are.”

The class and some of the instructors chuckled. But not Chad. The slight grin dropped from his handsome face, and his green eyes hardened with definite disapproval. The guy had no sense of humor.

It was going to be a long fifteen weeks…

“I’M SURPRISED you showed up,” a deep voice murmured close to her ear as Tessa waited for the elevator. She tensed, realizing she was alone with him. The third floor of the police department was deserted except for the two of them. She’d had to take a call, so she’d missed walking out with the rest of the class. Heck, she had missed whatever had happened after the last break since she had stayed in the restroom, on the phone.

“I wasn’t given much choice,” she reminded him as she jabbed the Down button again. If she knew where the stairs were, she would have already been in the lobby. Her phone vibrated, then chimed as she received a text.

“You could have chosen to accept the ticket.”

“And lose my license?” She shook her head as she pulled out her phone and read the message. “And my job? I had no choice.”

“You do now.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning toward him. She didn’t dare hope that he had changed his mind, but she had to ask, “Are you going to let me out of the academy?”

Irritation furrowed his brow, and he pushed a hand through his dark hair. “No. The judge only agreed to this with the stipulation that you don’t miss a single class.”

“I won’t—”

“You missed half the class.” He reached for her and wrapped his fingers around her hand that held the cell. “Because of this.”

Her skin tingling, Tessa pulled away just as the elevator doors finally slid open. She stepped inside and reached for the L button. So did he, his hand brushing hers again.

“I can’t miss any calls,” she said, but refrained from offering any further explanation. As the doors closed them into the small car together, Tessa drew in a shaky breath.

“It’s one night. Just a few hours. You can return your missed calls later,” he said, “not during class. The choice you have is to show up every week and either sit and pout, or participate.”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t pout.”

“Sulk, then.”

She opened then closed her mouth, unable to disagree with his observation. Thinking of what she was missing while at the academy, she had sulked.