In the daily briefing the next morning, Noah assumed his usual position—feet up and ankles crossed on a vacant chair next to him, arms folded across his chest. He didn’t mind the meetings. But once Deputy Dave got started on his daily manifesto of detailed inactions, imagined slights and unwanted opinions, Noah lost his patience. And today he’d been running late, so his infusion of extra-strong Busy B coffee still sat on a warming burner of the diner’s Bunn-O-Matic brewer. It almost brought a tear to his eye.
He glanced a few chairs down to Bree, as he did in every meeting. Frequently. She’d gone from sitting erect and taking notes while Adam spoke to slumped in her chair, pen lying on her closed notebook. She caught Noah looking, and with a thumb hooked in Dave’s direction, she smirked and rolled her baby blues until the color disappeared.
Good to know the newbie still didn’t think much of Dave.
By the time the meeting ended and they reached Noah’s SUV, the air had warmed enough to toss their jackets in the back seat. They swung by the Busy B for to-go orders but had to wait for Marge to brew another batch of Noah’s special strength.
“Next time you’re runnin’ late, you better call me, or I’m gonna scrape that swill into a cup and make you eat it.” Marge played musical burners with the coffee servers to open up a brewer space.
“Sorry, Marge. Would’ve been here in time, except Dave started talking and—”
“Say no more. I don’t know where that man got the idea anyone wants to hear what he has to say.” She hollered into the kitchen for the cook to hurry up. “Not much I dislike more than training a new cook. And this one?” She shook her head. “Just pitiful.”
Noah peered through the pass-through at a twentysomething working the grill. “Where’s Gus? He finally have enough of your cranky moods and quit?”
Marge smacked Noah with a menu. “The old man’s fallin’ apart. Had shoulder surgery and needs at least a month to recover. Probably longer.” She leaned in toward Noah and Bree. “To be honest, I think Gus’s wife got the short end of the stick. She has to stay home and rehab him.”
Marge cackled, which got Bree laughing, which Noah approved of. It was a big, loud laugh. A nice laugh. A laugh he wanted to hear more often.
Marge pointed toward the kitchen. “But in the meantime, I’m stuck with Dumb or Dumber. Haven’t decided which yet.”
“Well, if it helps, my lunch here yesterday was excellent,” Bree said.
“Club sandwich with fries?” When Bree nodded, Marge poked at her own chest, “That’s ’cause I made it. Genius boy in there was out back on one of his many breaks. Claims the gas fumes irritate his asthma. More like the fumes he inhales on his own time.”
When the extra-strong coffee had dripped its last drip, Marge filled Noah’s travel mug and handed Bree a large to-go cup with regular strength. She pushed a bag against his chest that held breakfast sandwiches, based on the aroma.
“You two skedaddle. Breakfast’s on me. Your sweet faces and laughter mean more than money this morning.”
Noah gave Marge a peck on the cheek; then he and Bree left. They chowed down while taking Highway 111 north toward I-10. Adam had assigned them county-wide patrol duty all day but shortened it to a half shift when he’d learned about their burglary lead. With any luck, they’d close the high school case this afternoon and be ready for something new come Monday.
“Thanks again for agreeing to hold off on the search for Sammy until today.” Bree sipped her coffee. “Last night, I was so exhausted, I barely managed to undress before I passed out in bed.”
“Uh, sure.” He stopped speaking, his attention wandering to a naked Deputy Delgado. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to bring his attention, as well as everything else, back to its original focus. “We’ll track him down this afternoon.”
Bud’s sister’s house had been their last stop the previous night, where they learned Sammy didn’t live there. According to his mom, he crashed with friends, and his two younger brothers should know who. Noah had asked nicely, Bree had questioned more firmly, and the boys’ mother had threatened life and limb before the two teens gave up the friends’ names. They’d make those rounds when they got back.
As it edged past noon, Noah zigzagged back toward Resolute on two-lane blacktops. They pulled over a total of two cars, with Bree handling both stops. She wrote one speeding ticket, gave a warning for not signaling a turn and seemed completely at ease for the first time all week.
Her attitude baffled Noah. Nobody in the department enjoyed traffic patrol. It was boring. At least, he’d always thought so, and he couldn’t imagine someone from a large urban environment not feeling the same way. But apparently, he’d been wrong.
Might be that she was an introvert and sought the solitude of patrol duty. She’d mentioned being used to not having friends, so maybe she was accustomed to going solo. Then again, perhaps solitude provided a barrier to shield her secrets.
Still several miles northwest of town, they came upon skid marks leading to a car on the side of the road. As they rolled up on the vehicle, Noah assessed the man bending over the open trunk.
Even in small towns, traffic stops came with an element of danger from the environment, the weather or oncoming traffic. None of that was an issue here. Or from driver hostility. The man straightened and gave them an inscrutable look.
“Stay sharp. Looks like a blowout, but you never know.” Noah turned on his flashers and parked behind the old Chevy Impala. The man looked to be in his thirties and, based on the size of his biceps, someone who worked out on a regular basis. He also had what seemed like a nervous tic, bending his head to the side as if popping his neck.
Noah got an uneasy vibe and wasn’t comfortable having Bree handle this stop.
Okay, maybe it was blatant sexism, especially since she had big-city experience, but he didn’t care. His father had raised him and his brothers to be both respectful and protective of the fairer sex, and he wasn’t about to change his spots to save anyone’s sensibilities over the issue. Even hers.
“Run the plates,” he said to Bree as he climbed out of the SUV, surprised when she raised no objection.
Noah walked up on the man with outward casualness. His hands rested easily on his duty belt in a nonthreatening posture, but one that would allow him to quickly draw his gun should the need arise. “Need any help?”
The man’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “No thanks, Officer. Just digging out my jack. But I appreciate the offer.”
Based on his dirty T-shirt and torn jeans, Noah would have guessed the guy had already changed his flat. But examining the trunk’s interior, it looked like the man took care of himself about as well as he took care of his car.
What looked like a pile of rags, but might have been more of his wardrobe, was balled up in one corner next to a dirt-encrusted cooler. Fast-food bags, wrappers and cups filled an old cardboard box and spilled over onto the floor. Two plastic milk crates held cleaning supplies, everything from window cleaner, drain cleaner and laundry detergent to toilet-bowl cleaner, dish soap and bleach. A lot of supplies for someone who clearly wasn’t a neatnik.
The driver followed Noah’s gaze and forced an insincere chuckle. “Yeah, I need to clean it out one of these days.”
“Heck, my brother’s trunk looks ten times worse than that.” Noah smiled as he told the lie, wanting to put the man at ease. “You from around here?”
He leaned against the back of his car and crossed his arms, and that’s when Noah’s radar started pinging. This guy was trying too hard to appear unaffected.
“McAllen. But I just rented a house up near Hudsonville.”
“Hudsonville is a real nice place. You’ll like it there.”
Bree approached in time to catch the end of the conversation. She gave Noah a small nod, which meant nothing had come back on the plates. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was hinky.
Bree moved into a backup position several paces from Noah. She must’ve ridden with a partner before, because she did it smoothly and automatically.
“Moving to Hudsonville for work?” She took her own casual peek into the trunk, though her right hand rested at her hip, near her service weapon.
The man nodded. “Heard about an offshore oil rig that might have some openings.”
While Bree talked to the man, Noah had made a nonchalant circle of the Impala. Back at the trunk, he said, “Your inspection sticker and tags are expired. I need to see your license and proof of insurance.”
“Ah, man. You gonna ticket me right when I’m about to get my act together? I’m already going to have to buy a new tire. You know how much tires cost these days?” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed Noah the documents.
He’s cooperating and he’s not belligerent, so why do I feel that I’m missing something?
“Jason Watson. Crescent Drive in McAllen. Your insurance is up to date, which is the reason I’m not going to ticket you.” Noah handed the license and the insurance card back to him.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
“I’m not going to ticket you, Mr. Watson,” Noah repeated, “but when you change your address on your license, which must be done within the next thirty days, you need to bring your vehicle up to date on its inspection and tags.”
“You got it, man. First thing. I swear.” He seemed sincere for the first time.
“If you’re sure you don’t want a hand, we’ll let you get back to it.”
Jason nodded as he returned his wallet to his back pocket. “Have a good day, Officers. And thanks again.”
Once back in their SUV, Noah activated the MDT and entered the house number on Crescent Drive that he’d memorized from the license. Bree had run the plates; now Noah would run the man. “What kind of vibe did you get from him?”
“I think he was lying about his job. Hudsonville seems a bit far from the coast for an offshore job he didn’t even have yet.” Bree pulled out her notebook. “So what set off your alarm bells?”
“And here I thought I was being so subtle.”
“You were, but you have your tells.”
“Remind me to never play poker with you.” He chuckled, then grew serious again. “I can’t say what bothered me about the guy. Just a hunch.”
“Hunches are right more often than not.”
Noah agreed. “I sure didn’t like the looks he gave you.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen a thousand times before. Part contempt, part lust.” Bree looked up from her notebook. “Most of the time, guys like him decide a chick with a gun’s not worth the hassle.”
Most of the time. What about the rest of the time? A muscle-bound guy that size would have no problem taking down Bree. Of course, as she pointed out, Bree did carry a gun. But then again, maybe Jason Watson of McAllen, Texas, did, too. They hadn’t searched his car. No cause.
The results on Mr. Watson came back. “Not even a parking ticket.” Noah put the SUV in gear, pulled around the Impala and continued down the road. “What did you think about all those cleaning supplies in his trunk? Not exactly bomb-making materials, but it seemed strange, considering how filthy he was.”
Bree closed her notebook and mechanically tucked it between her thigh and the car seat, leaving the little wire spiral sticking out. “What I noticed was everything in his trunk looked like it had been there for ages, but the cleaning supplies looked new.”
“I didn’t pick up on that, but you’re right. Maybe he bought them to deep clean his new place in Hudsonville.”
“Maybe, but...”
“But what?”
“For one thing, he had dirt under his fingernails and his hair was greasy. I doubt he’s bathed in over a week. Seems hard to believe such a smelly, grungy guy is going to care if his windows are dirty or his countertops need wiping down.”
A loud, gurgling rumble interrupted their conversation, and Bree laughed. “By the sounds coming from your stomach, I’d say it’s lunchtime. Let’s grab some chow and then go find Sammy.”
“You’re on.” Noah took the next right turn and headed back to the highway. “It’d be nice if we could wrap up the school burglary by quitting time. Give us something to look forward to come Monday morning.”
“You’re talking about the meth-house case, aren’t you?”
Noah shot her a high-octane smile. “Yes, I am.”
Bree gave him a half smile in return, then turned her head and looked out her side window.
“HI, MS. GIBSON. How’s your day going?” Bree asked as they passed Helen’s desk in the lobby.
“Can’t get much better than a slow Friday afternoon with everyone out of the office.” The petite woman, whose hair was turning gray, smiled at her. “And for heaven’s sake, call me Helen. We’re mostly only formal in front of outsiders.”
“Well, I sort of am an outsider. I’ve only been here—”
“Doesn’t matter.” Helen waved her hand. “Once you’re working with us, you’re family.”
“God help her.” Noah smirked. “Where is everybody?”
Helen checked her calendar where she kept track of all the office comings and goings. “Dave and Pete took over patrol for you two, and Adam and Shawn responded to a domestic dispute.” Looking at Bree, she added, “One of our regular couples, south of town. They’re usually past the point of reason by the time a neighbor calls us.”
“We need to run a few searches, then we’ll be out of your hair, too.” Noah winked at her.
Bree laughed when Helen winked back.
In the bullpen, Bree copied the list of Sammy’s friends from her notebook and gave it to Noah.
“I’ll start from the top.” He settled into his chair and tapped on his keyboard.
“Fine. I’ll work my way up from the bottom.” Walking to her desk, she looked over her shoulder at him. “Betcha I make it through more than you do.”
“You’re on.” He typed faster. “What’s the wager?”
“Hmm, I think I’ll tell you after I win.”
“In your dreams.” He chuckled.
They pulled up names, searched for addresses, ages, records.
Bree liked her notes on paper, but she researched faster than most cops could turn on their computer. In less than ten minutes, she let out a whoop. “Five done, which means I win.” She gave Noah her sweetest smile. “Would you like me to help you with your four?”
“Nice, Delgado. Hanging around with me is improving your sense of humor.” He tapped a key and the printer whirred.
She picked up both hers and Noah’s printouts and strutted to his desk. “And guess what’s even better?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
She waved the papers at him. “I’ve got an address for one of them.”
Noah stood and read over her shoulder. “Oak View Apartments. Let’s go.”
Before they could take a step, his desk phone rang. He grabbed the receiver and listened to whoever was on the other end of the call for what seemed like a full minute before saying, “We’ll take it.” He dropped the handset in its cradle, a concerned frown on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Have you got your notes from our talk with Bud and his sister last night?”
She retrieved her notebook and gave it to him without a word.
“Give me a second.” He flipped through the pages, then cupped a hand loosely over his mouth.
As he handed the notebook back to Bree, a picture of Sammy slipped out from between two pages. His mother had made them promise to return it. He picked it up from the floor and gave it to Bree.
She’d been patient long enough. “What’s going on?”
“I think Sammy is dead.”
NOAH FILLED HER in on the way. A couple of kids playing by the railroad tracks east of town had seen a body. Male, young adult, dark hair. The general clothing description sounded similar to what Sammy had been wearing at the school the previous evening. Especially the T-shirt with the big red tongue.
“You think this somehow ties back to the burglary?” Bree asked.
“Could be coincidence, but—”
“I don’t believe in coincidence.” She crossed her arms.
“Neither do I. But I didn’t see a single thing on the list of stolen items that would be worth killing for.”
She tapped a finger against her chin. “What if we didn’t get a complete list?”
Noah glanced at her. “You think someone’s holding out on us?”
“More like something hasn’t been missed yet. Something expensive.” She shrugged. “We don’t even know if it’s Sammy yet.”
“We’ll know soon enough.” Noah cut the lights and siren and turned onto a dirt service road running parallel to the tracks. They bumped along until he sighted a smaller dirt path leading into some woods.
He parked and climbed out, waiting for Bree, who grabbed crime scene tape and extra gloves. The body lay in a small clearing surrounded by trees and bushes.
It was Sammy.
The clothes he’d been wearing when they chased him through the school matched what was on the body. But it was his face, the same face as in the picture his mother had given them, that left no doubt.
“Looks like he was strangled.” Bree indicated the bruising around his throat. “Maybe if we’d kept looking for him last night, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Woulda, coulda, shoulda. No point thinking that way.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. “Helen, can you call the justice of the peace, tell him we need a body declared? Then contact Austin, ask them to send a crime scene team and a wagon.”
As he put his phone away, Bree asked, “Y’all use a JP for death declarations?”
“Yep. Small-town life and all.” He looked back at the body and grimaced. “Man, some days I hate this job.”
Bree considered the area. “His car isn’t around. He didn’t come here on his own.”
“He probably came with his killer.” Noah studied the crime scene. “Or was just dumped here.” He walked around the edge of the clearing, peering into the trees.
“What are you looking for?”
“I thought I heard something.” He stopped moving and listened again. A rustling in the bushes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He spun toward the sound, pulling his gun.
Bree moved closer, her eyes huge. As usual, her head was on a swivel, but she had no weapon in her hand. Noah caught her attention, pointed to his gun and then to hers. She stared at him briefly, then indicated she’d circle around behind the rustling.
Why hadn’t she drawn her gun?
He went in the opposite direction, planning to meet her halfway. Then they could push whoever was out there in toward the clearing. As he rounded a large tree, an odd sound began, along with more frantic movement. And then he saw it.
A female javelina with two babies. The mother, snorting and sniffing, found his scent and went into baby-protection mode. Noah raised his gun, intent on killing her before she went after him with her razor-sharp tusks.
And suddenly, Bree was by his side. Letting loose with a blood-curdling scream, she raised her arms above her head and threw a large rock toward the animal. The mama and babies took off deeper into the woods.
Noah gaped at Bree. “What the hell was that about?”
“Javelina usually run from loud noises, especially if you throw things at them.” Her forehead creased. “You never learned that when you were a kid?”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why didn’t you pull your gun as soon as we heard the noise? It could’ve been Sammy’s killer for all you knew.”
She stayed mum and avoided his eyes. Like she was hiding something.
“I’m serious, Bree.” It took every ounce of his control to not yell at her. “I want to know what’s going on with you. Before everyone else shows up.”
She lifted her head and squared her shoulders as if readying herself for battle. But when she spoke, her voice was almost a whisper. “I can’t fire my gun.”
“What?” Her words made no sense.
She stared him straight in the eye and repeated it, louder this time. “I can’t fire my gun. I can’t draw it, I can’t fire it.” She gnawed at her bottom lip.
“Physically?” Was that her secret? She was losing strength in her muscles or something? “Like, what? Arthritis in your hand?”
“Nothing like that.” She combed both hands through her hair, leaving it tousled. “A while back, I shot someone. I was on duty, he had a gun pointed at me. It was a clean shoot.” This last came out as if by rote. A memorized explanation, defending herself. “I haven’t been able to pull it since.”
“And Cassie knows this?” His by-the-book, rule-following sister had allowed this?
“No one knows. Except you, now.” She dropped her gaze and kicked at the loose dirt.
He glared at her. “Does this have anything to do with why you quit your job and came here?”
Bree found a tree to lean against. “I did all the regular stuff after the shooting. Desk duty while they investigated it, which didn’t take long. Saw the department shrink, who said I was fine. Everyone said I was fine. Ready to go back out.”
She crossed her arms and seemed to fold in on herself. “But I couldn’t report the gun...problem. They’d pull me from patrol, and that’s what I live for. It’s what I am. A patrol cop.”
“So you decide to put everyone else at risk instead? Hell, Bree. You can get your partner killed if you don’t have their back.” He paced in front of her, fury pouring out of him. “You just put my life in danger. If that animal had been someone with a gun sneaking up on us... I can’t believe you did this.”
“I’m sorry, Noah. I truly am. I thought Resolute was a small town with little to no crime.” She raised her hands, then dropped them. “I figured I could work through my problem while I’m here. Go to a gun range, practice. And I can. I know I can turn this around. I just need a little time.”
He stopped pacing and stared at her. “You know I have to tell Cassie about this, right?” The past several days replayed behind his eyes. She’d impressed him with her powers of observation. Her attention to detail. And the whole time, she’d just been boondoggling him. Him and the whole damn town.
“Please, Noah, I’m begging you. Give me a chance, and I won’t disappoint you.” She pushed off the tree. “Please?”
“You’ve already disappointed me. I gave you way too much credit as a law enforcement officer.” A bitter taste filled his mouth. “You played us all for fools, didn’t you? Cassie, Adam, the whole country-bumpkin lot of us, right?”
She jerked her head back as if he’d slapped her. “I never thought you were a fool. None of you. That’s not what... I didn’t mean to...” Her tears flowed freely, and she spun away from him, her shoulders shaking in silent sobs.
Fighting the urge to comfort her, he crossed over to the far side of the clearing. “I can’t promise anything right now.”
His heart and his mind and his gut all threw down, each intent on winning this fight. He’d never experienced so many physical reactions at one time. Anger... when his father was murdered. Confusion...when his mother disappeared without a word. Care and compassion to this extent for a woman...this was a new one.
He sighed. “But I’ll think about it.”
Still facing away from him, she nodded her head.
He’d been right. Bree definitely had a secret. And now he had to decide what to do about it. As a responsible member of the department, he should report this to Cassie. If he didn’t, would he ever be the deputy he was striving to become? And if he did, would he ever be the man he hoped to be?
He didn’t want Bree to get fired. He didn’t want her to leave Resolute. Because somehow, in less than a week, he was already falling in love with her.