Protecting the Pregnant Witness. Julie Miller
think you understand what I really need.” She pulled her hand down to her distended belly. “What we really need. And if you do, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to give it.”
His gaze followed her hand down, then back up to look her in the eye. “Jose, don’t do this. Keep yourself and the kid safe. Montgomery can find another way to catch this guy.”
Knowing his concern for her safety was genuine, yet knowing that depending on him would only resurrect feelings that were too painful to bear right now, Josie put her hand on his chest and pushed him back out of her space. “It’s not your call to make, Rafe. Now you’ve got a meeting to get to and I’m late for my practicum. Goodbye.”
It was the most unnatural thing in the world to turn her back on Rafe and walk away. The baby seemed to know it, too. Junior shifted inside her, in Josie’s mind, trying to reach for Daddy and the heat and strength and security Rafe had in such abundance. The little traitor. She was trying to be strong enough for both of them, trying to save them both the heartache of wanting Rafe Delgado.
Sensing that Rafe was standing there, watching her every step of the way, Josie pushed the elevator’s call button and waited. The swish of movement in her belly, not quite a kick yet, but a definite presence with a determined opinion, continued. The shifting pressure settled right onto her bladder again. With her hand on her belly, and tears threatening the corners of her eyes, Josie squeezed her thighs together and whispered a plea. “Please quiet down, Junior. I’m trying to make an exit here.”
WITH FOURTH PRECINCT Chief Mitch Taylor running the Monday morning roll call meeting, Rafe was doing his best to pay attention. But the vivid memories of Josie’s touch on his skin, her hand cradling his seed in her belly and the battleground of emotions waging war inside him made it a real challenge.
“I want to remind everybody about the spring carnival we’re putting together for the KCPD widows and orphans fund this month.” Mitch Taylor pulled back the front of his jacket and propped his hands at his waist in a stance that indicated this project was every bit as important to him as the ongoing investigations on his agenda. His booming voice required no microphone. “Mark your calendars for Memorial Day weekend. Even though we’ve hired an event planner to coordinate the event, I’ll be looking for volunteers to help with everything from parking to running the arcade games for the kids.”
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