Chapter Ten

Mel hurried through the lobby into her office, barely aware of Jackson following on her heels. “Don’t you have a café to run?”

Jackson gave her a casual shrug and one of his damn adorable dimple powered smiles. “I told you, this snow is pretty but hell on a business that’s sixty percent outside and geared for canine and human customers. Besides, I want to see if there’s anything interesting on those shots.”

While Mel booted up her computer and opened the file he’d sent from his phone, she nervously noticed Jackson scrutinizing the pictures on her wall of herself and her family. She felt they gave away far too much intimate information about her. Then again, she’d never expected anyone to enter her personal domain to see them.

“See something you like?” she growled, hoping he got the message.

He just kept studying her wall.

Finally, he turned around with eyebrows furrowed. “That’s a picture of you and a man wearing Six-Pack of Peaks T-shirts. I’ve read about this challenge, there are some tough climbs involved.”

“That’s my brother, Liam.” She got lost in the picture for a minute, remembering the day like it was yesterday. She and Liam toasted the camera with a beer in one hand, arms draped around each other, and grinning from ear to ear with pride. It was physically painful for her now, remembering how much fun climbing used to be. She forced herself to shake it off. “Somebody had to go with him or the idiot might have fallen off.”

“But you’re terrified of heights?”

“Would you believe I consumed a ton of edibles?”

Shaking his head, he moved closer to her desk. “There isn’t enough CBD in the world for the person I saw almost pass out from a panic attack today to climb those mountains, not to mention smile like that.”

Mel didn’t dare risk meeting his gaze, so she turned back to study her computer, jaw clenched. “Apparently heights didn’t always bother me. Congratulations, Sherlock. Now can we just drop it?”

“What happened?”

Apparently, they weren’t dropping it, so she chose the mature route and ignored him.

Jackson would not be deterred. “Mel, I’m no psychologist, but I’m not an idiot. Obviously, something traumatic happened to turn this woman—” He pointed at the beaming smile on her face in the photo, then waved directly at her as she sat at her desk. “—into this.”

She made a sweeping head to toe gesture at her body. “Hey! What’s so wrong with this?”

“Not a dang thing on the outside, but you clearly have some serious trauma, and talking about it is the first step in controlling it rather than letting it control you. And nobody keeps secrets like a Cajun,” he added with a small, crooked smile.

Mel felt the seams of the bag she’d stuffed her story into begin to split. Everyone else had told her “you’ll get over it in time,” but Jackson seemed to understand. What happened was a part of her present. Ignoring it gave the story too much control. She stood and stared out the window, unwilling to let him see the emotions flickering across her face.

“Fine.” She sighed. Only one word in and it already felt…not so much better, but different. “My partner and I had a 10-80, pursuit in progress. The perp parkoured all over the place, bouncing off mailboxes and Spider-manning it up fire escapes. But I had her within arm’s reach as we ran across the rooftop. It was only eight stories up, so when she jumped from one roof to the next, I didn’t even think, I just followed. But when I pushed off, my foot slipped. I knew I wasn’t going to make it.”

She paused for a moment, shuddering at the memory before barking a bitter laugh. “Came damn close, though. You remember that video of Tom Cruise when he broke his ankle doing a stunt for some movie?” She heard Jackson whisper a curse which told her he knew the viral clip she meant. “Yeah, I did that. Only harder. I missed the roof, slammed into the building, and slid down the wall. I barely wrapped my fingers around the ledge and wrestled with gravity for what seemed like an hour, screaming my head off for help. My partner stood on the opposite roof; he sure as hell wasn’t about to jump seeing how it turned out for me. My fingers were cramping, my arms shaking, and just when I thought I was about to fall, the weirdest thing happened.”

Mel turned to face Jackson, hoping he could bring some sense into it for her. “The thief we were chasing came back and grabbed hold of my wrists. She planted her feet against that ledge and pulled me to safety. She had a clear escape, no one would catch her, but instead she saved my life.”

Mel had gone over it in her head a thousand times, and it still never made sense. That’s not what criminals do, they just don’t.

Jackson’s puzzled expression surprised her. “Of course she did. It wasn’t like she carried a gun or anything. Clearly, she values life over the stuff she steals.”

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it had never occurred to Mel. “Oh my God, I’m such a pathetic Javert,” she whispered as the sudden realization dawned on her that she had become as judgmental as the infamous cop from Les Miz.

“Well, besides,” Jackson added, “as soon as she got you on the roof I’m sure she took off, so really it didn’t cost her anything.”

“Oh no. While we were both laying there on our backs, catching our breath, I slapped the cuffs on her.”

“You shackled the hand that saved you?” Jackson squawked.

His reaction confused Mel. “I was a cop, it was my job. And anyway, after this stunned silence, we both burst out laughing and didn’t get up until my partner finally got some back up to the scene.”

She smiled at the memory until she clocked the horrified expression on Jackson’s face. “Calm down, she’s fine. Before I went in for my second, or third surgery…anyway, one of those, I pressed the DA to drop the charges. He’s an old family friend and was grateful for the save.” Mel shrugged it away as nothing but broke away from Jackson’s gaze.

“So she’s fine, and you’ve been afraid heights ever since?” Jackson shifted to face her. If she turned away now, Mel feared she’d seem like a character from a lame soap opera constantly turning her head away, so she met his gaze.

“I’m working on it,” she claimed, lying through her teeth.

“Have you thought about a support group?”

“Yeah, that’s what Vinnie keeps telling me too. I don’t think so, it’s just not me.”

“Your boyfriend, Vinnie?”

This time it was her turn to laugh rudely. “Vinnie is my sister, Lavinia. We’re the oldest daughters, and our parents made this stupid promise to let our grandmothers name us. Hence we both have names you’ll never find on those license plates at amusement parks.”

“So if Vinnie is short for Lavinia, Mel must be short for…”

“None of your business. What were you taking pictures of?”

She gestured at the computer screen, and he came around the desk to stand right over her shoulder. His scent was an intoxicating mix of pine and earthy, spiced baked goods. She clicked through one blurry picture after another. She wished they could go back and try again, but by now the falling snow would have obliterated everything.

“That’s weird the way her tracks just stop, isn’t it?” Jackson squinted at her screen. “If she slipped, wouldn’t there be slide marks or tracks where she tried to stop herself with her hands?”

“Which makes it more likely she either jumped or was pushed, and Mindy didn’t seem like a jumper to me.”

Among the blurry pictures, Mel noticed one or two useful shots. The single set of footprints that just ended were no doubt Mindy’s, but the ones next to hers had a very distinct marking on the bottom like the Big Dipper. Mindy’s footprints turned, as if she had heard something or was addressing someone else. And then they vanish. The Big Dipper walked closer to the edge, probably to peer down, and then turn back the way they’d come.

“Who is the local expert on hiking boots?”