Jolene’s fingers curled around the door, and she caught her breath. She felt like grabbing Tucker and shaking him, but she didn’t want to scare him off. The guy seemed ready to blow away with the next breeze.
“You saw what happened to Pinky?”
“I heard.” Tucker tapped his head. “I was dreaming in my pad.”
“Dreaming?” Sam turned his head and rolled his eyes at her. “You mean you were sleeping?”
“I was sleeping and dreaming.” Tucker started combing his fingers through his unkempt beard, not a gray hair visible, but he looked old enough to be Sam’s father. “Big loud noise woke me up.”
“Did you hear voices?” Sam allowed the ten-dollar bill to peek through his fist, and Tucker’s gaze followed every one of Sam’s gestures. “Yelling? Screaming?”
“Just a yelp, like a yelp, yip, yap. Big loud noise. Scraping sound like furniture moving.” Tucker narrowed his eyes. “Then he left.”
Jolene’s heart jumped. “You saw the man who killed Mel...Pinky?”
“I heard footsteps—clomp, bomp, stomp. I eyed, spied though the blinds and saw a man leaving. Stocking cap on his head. It’s hot. Nobody needs no stocking cap.”
“This rhyming is giving me a headache.” Sam rubbed his temple with two fingers. “Did you see what this guy looked like, Tucker? Other than the stocking cap? Beard? Long hair? Clothing?”
Tucker tore at his shirt. “It wasn’t me. No beard. It wasn’t me. Don’t take my thumb, don’t take my thumb, don’t take my thumb, drum, crumb drive.”
“Damn.” Sam dragged a hand through his hair. “I didn’t say it was you, Tucker, and we’re not going to take your thumb. I’m asking what the guy looked like.”
“Dark clothes, black clothes. Dark, stark, weird beard.” He waved his hands. “Not me, not me. Not my thumb.”
“We know that, Tucker.” She tugged on Sam’s sleeve. “Give him the money for God’s sake.”
Sam held on to the bill and asked, “Did you see him get into a car? Hear a car?”
“No car. Like me, no truck. But not me.” Tucker started hopping from foot to foot. “It wasn’t me. Not my thumb.”
Sam smacked a hand against his forehead. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
Jolene hunched over the car door. “Tucker, can you talk to the police? Tell them what you told us? You want to help Pinky, don’t you? She was good to you, and that man hurt her.”
“They’ll get me for staying in that place when I ain’t supposed to. They’ll take my thumb drive. Pinky gave me that.”
“You’re not there now. The cops aren’t going to arrest you for anything. They’re trying to find out what happened to Pinky.” Sam held out the balled up ten to Tucker. “I’ll make sure they don’t arrest you. Just tell them what you saw.”
Tucker snatched the bill and opened his voluminous coat, wet from the rains, to find a place to put the money. As he tugged open one side of his coat, a purse fell to the ground.
Jolene covered her mouth. “Sam, that’s Melody’s purse.”
Tucker made a grab for the purse and shouted, “Not me. Not me. No thumb. In the floor.”
He scrambled toward the bushes, and Sam lunged forward and tackled him, pinning his arms behind his back. “That’s it, Tucker. Game over. Jolene, go get the police down here.”
“Sam!” Jolene clutched her stomach as Tucker wailed. “You don’t really believe he killed Melody, do you?”
“He has her damned purse, Jolene. Go get the cops before I have to hurt him.” Sam flipped Tucker over and planted a knee in the middle of the frail man’s back.
Jolene jogged across the parking lot and grabbed the first officer she saw. “We ran into a homeless guy near our car. He admitted to squatting in the apartment next to Melody’s, and he has her purse.”
Another cop overheard her and the two sheriff’s deputies hustled toward the edge of the parking lot.
When they arrived, Sam looked up from the squirming Tucker. “I’m Border Patrol. I have my weapon but no cuffs. I didn’t have to pull my gun, but you need to take him into custody.”
Tucker thrashed on the ground. “You told me you wouldn’t call them. Where’s my ten bucks? Tucker, trucker. Tucker, trucker.”
One of the officers swore. “Oh man, it’s Tucker Bishop.”
“You know him?” Sam panted. “He’s wriggling like a fish on a line over here.”
“We pick him up occasionally, mostly for a seventy-two-hour hold in the psych ward. He’s usually not violent.”
“Yeah, except he’s in possession of a dead woman’s purse. He told us he heard someone in Melody’s apartment and saw him walk by, but I don’t know how much we can trust him.”
The deputies approached Sam and Tucker, one of them drawing his weapon. “Stop struggling, Tucker. We’re gonna take you to the station and find out what you know, give you a cot and a hot. Why do you have that woman’s purse?”
“She gave it to me. She gave me stuff.”
Sam finally relinquished control of Tucker to the sheriff’s deputies. Standing up, he brushed off his clothing. “I’m going to have to do more laundry.”
Jolene spotted Melody’s purse on the ground and crouched down, reaching out for it.
“Don’t touch it, Jolene. Let them bag it for evidence and test it for prints. The fewer people touching it right now, the better.”
She snatched her hand back. “I don’t see her phone.”
“What?” Sam took a knee beside her.
“Her phone.” Jolene poked at the purse with a stick she snatched up from the parking lot. “She’d usually stick it in this side pocket.”
Sam pushed to his feet. “Check Tucker’s pockets for a phone.”
One of the deputies snapped on a pair of gloves and asked Tucker to remove his coat. He searched through the pockets of the coat, and then patted down Tucker.
“Nothing.”
Jolene approached Tucker, his hands cuffed behind him, his lips moving with mumbled words. Her heart ached for him. Melody would have been kind to him because Melody had a thing for lost causes.
“Tucker? Did you take Pinky’s phone?”
He shook his shaggy head and spittle nestled in his beard. “No phone. No zone. No drone.”
“Watch out, Ms. Nighthawk, we’re taking him in. We’ll ask him about the phone.”
As the deputies bagged the purse and hauled off a subdued Tucker, Jolene plopped down in the passenger seat of Sam’s car, her legs hanging over the side. “What the heck do you make of that? You can’t possibly believe that poor confused man killed Melody.”
“You said it. He’s confused, Jolene. We don’t know what’s going on his head. We don’t know what drugs he’s on. I was willing to play along up until the minute Melody’s purse fell out of his coat. He could’ve heard her come home, gone next door, asked for a beer. Maybe Melody invited him in, he saw her purse and decided to take it. She fought back, fell and hit her head.” He shrugged in a way that encompassed everything else.
Jolene pinned her hands between her knees. “I don’t know. If Tucker did kill her, why did he accost us in the parking lot? We didn’t know he was there. He could’ve disappeared with Melody’s purse. Nobody would’ve known of his presence. The cops might not have even discovered that he’d been in the apartment next door. Why implicate himself when he didn’t have to?”
“Really, Jolene?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “You’re acting like Tucker the trucker is a reasonable, rational human being, instead of a drug-and-booze-addled vagrant.”
She dropped her head to her knees. “Oh, Melody, why’d you start drinking again?”
Sam stroked her hair. “I’m going to get you home—before something else happens.”
When Sam got behind the wheel, Jolene tapped his forearm. “Is Melody Nighthawk going to be another person in that death register whose death is marked down as accidental? We need to comb through those names.”
“Not tonight. Do you need to call someone, Granny Viv, or will Wade take care of that?” He plucked a charger from the cup holder. “I don’t think this will work with your phone.”
“Wade will tell Gran. I’ll charge my phone when I get home.” She ran a finger down the thigh of his jeans. “Do you have to go back to your motel? I—I’m still rattled after everything that went on today. I’d rather not be alone—even with Chip there.”
“I had no intention of leaving you alone tonight.”
Jolene eased out a sigh and slumped in the seat. Was she inviting trouble by asking Sam to stay? Could she have him in her home and not her bed?
She’d find out soon enough.
* * *
WHEN HE WALKED into her house, Sam removed his weapon from his waistband and set it on the kitchen table. He pinched his T-shirt between two fingers and pulled it away from his body. “Every time I step into your home, there’s something wrong with my clothes.”
Jolene searched the counter for her phone charger. “What is it this time?”
“Did you get a look at Tucker and his clothing? He and it weren’t too clean, and I had to tackle the guy.” He pulled his T-shirt up to his face and sniffed it. “Yeah, this definitely has to go in the wash.”
“I should start charging you for laundry.” Jolene walked to her bedroom and plugged her phone into the charger on her nightstand.
When she returned to the living room, Chip had joined in on the sniffing. His nose was twitching as he checked out Sam’s jeans.
“Even Chip notices.” Sam patted the dog’s head. “Good boy.”
Jolene dropped onto the couch. “I can’t believe Melody is dead. Gran is going to be heartbroken.”
“Should you call her? You can use my phone again.”
“I’ll let Wade handle it. He might not even want to wake her at this hour to give her the news. We’ll see her tomorrow.” Tears pricked the back of Jolene’s eyes, and she covered her face.
Sam rubbed a circle on her back. “I wish I had confronted her about drinking when she waved us down. I didn’t want to get in her face, you know?”
“I know, and I feel like we could’ve gotten to the bar faster.” She dropped her hands. “Was cleaning the kitchen so important? Changing clothes?”
“We didn’t know what was going to happen, Jolene. Who could predict how this night would end?”
“Did she seem scared to you earlier? She did warn me.”
“If she was so frightened, she wouldn’t have gone out drinking on her own. She would’ve stayed at her brother’s place, his gated home with the security system. Wade could’ve kept her safe if she was afraid.”
“Unless she was afraid of Wade.” She twisted her head around and met Sam’s blue eyes. “Why are you hovering back there? Have a seat.”
He thumped a hand against his chest. “You don’t wanna get too close to this. I’m going to shower and put on those sweats I dug out of your closet earlier. Is that okay with you?”
“Go ahead. Do you want some tea, coffee, water?”
“I don’t need anything to keep me awake. I’m already wired. You?” He yanked the T-shirt over his head, and she gulped.
She had the same visceral reaction she’d always had to the sight of Sam Cross’s body—tingling excitement now mixed with an ache of longing.
“Same.” She pushed up from the couch, trying to put distance between her and Sam’s bare chest. “I’m going to make myself a cup of herbal tea. I’ll make you one, too. You want it. You just don’t know you want it yet.”
“If it can help with the pounding in my head that was going on before we were subjected to Tucker the trucker and then got worse when I talked to him, I’m all for it.” He pointed to the hallway. “Clean towel in the linen closet?”
“Help yourself, and you can stuff your clothes in the washer while you’re at it.”
She banged around in the kitchen, pulling tea bags and mugs from the cupboards, while Sam banged around in the hall closet. She hoped he wouldn’t follow her instructions literally, and take off all his clothes and put them in the wash before he got in the shower. Sam shirtless had already tested her defenses. Sam naked would bring her walls crumbling down around her.
Jolene let out a long breath when she heard the water in the shower. She filled the mugs with water and stuck them in the microwave.
Two minutes later, she dredged the tea bags in the boiling water of each cup. If Sam didn’t want the tea, she’d have a second cup.
She hunched over the counter, burying her chin in her palm. How had everything gotten so complicated? She’d planned to dump the bones she’d gotten from her friend in the U of A archaeology department at the construction site to muck up the work over there and do a little more digging into her father’s death. How had it ended in Melody’s death?
Of course, Melody could’ve been doing her own snooping that led to her death. Or maybe she’d taken a tumble and hit her head all by herself. She and Tucker could’ve gotten into a tug-of-war over the purse.
Sam stepped into the kitchen dressed in nothing but those Border Patrol sweats again, droplets of water shimmering on his chest, his clothes bunched in one hand. “Do you have anything you want to put in with these?”
At least the sweats seemed to be pulled up higher on his waist.
Chip trotted into the kitchen, his claws tapping on the tile floor. Sam bent over to scratch Chip behind the ear, and the sweats dipped a little more.
“No, knock yourself out. I have a short cycle, though, so you should use that to save water.” She cleared her throat and held up one of the steaming mugs. “Tea?”
“I’ll give it a try.” He disappeared into the laundry room off the kitchen and turned on the washing machine with several beeps.
When he came out, she handed him a cup of tea. “That sounded like way too many beeps for the short cycle.”
“I had to make a few corrections.” He held the mug under his nose and closed his eyes. “It smells good, anyway, but most tea tastes like slightly flavored hot water to me.”
She pushed at his back, his skin smooth beneath her fingertips. “It’s soothing. Give it a try. Do you want some ibuprofen for your head?”
“That warm shower did the trick.” He wrapped one hand around the mug and tilted his head, a damp lock of hair curling over his forehead. “How do you feel? It seems days instead of hours ago that I ran a bath for you to relax after your accident. How are those bruises on your arms? Your neck?”
She ran a hand across the back of her neck. “My neck’s a little stiff, but I’m okay. Bruises are coloring up nicely. I just wish I could dial back the clock to the moment when Melody ran out to the street to warn me.”
“Me, too, but that’s futile. Believe me, I’ve wanted to turn the clock back many times.” He touched his mug to hers. “Let’s sit down and drink our tea—never thought I’d hear myself saying that. C’mon, Chip.”
“You might like it.” She strolled into the living room with Sam right behind her and Chip right behind him, his devoted follower. She sat on one side of the couch, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. She didn’t want any awkward silences between them.
Sam took the cushion next to her and noisily slurped his tea. “Yep, flavored hot water, but it’s kind of minty.”
She aimed the remote at the TV. “Have you seen this show?”
“Heard about it, haven’t seen it.” He stretched his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “It’s okay now. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“But Melody...” She rested her head on his shoulder. Maybe she didn’t want to put her trust in Sam for the long term, but for right now he represented something solid.
“I know.” He smoothed the hair back from her forehead, his fingers tickling her skin.
Chip curled up on her feet, and Sam ran the sole of his foot across Chip’s back. “See? Chip’s here for you, too. We both are.”
Jolene took another sip of her tea and set the cup on the coffee table. She turned to Sam and cupped his lean jaw in her hand. “I don’t know what I want from you, Sam—maybe nothing. Maybe you’re not prepared to offer anything.”
He opened his mouth, and she put a finger to his lips. “But right now, I need you.”
She replaced her finger with her lips, kissing his mint-flavored mouth.
He slipped his arms around her and deepened their kiss, his hands sliding down her back. He murmured against her mouth, “I love you, Jolene. I never stopped loving you.”
“Don’t.” She skimmed her hands across his shoulders, and then dug her fingernails into his flesh. “You don’t have to tell me anything right now. You don’t have to convince me of anything. I just want to be with you. Can we do that? Just be?”
He cinched his hands around her waist and pulled her into his lap so that she straddled him. “We can do whatever you want. I’m yours.”
His words caused a thrill to race down her spine. Her fingertips buzzed, and she trailed them over the sculpted muscles of his chest, circling one brown nipple before she kissed it. She ran a finger along the waistband of the sweats.
“Easy on, easy off. How convenient.” She tugged at the sweats, discovering Sam had stripped off his underwear, too. “Very convenient.”
“I aim to please.” He nuzzled her throat, planting a line of kisses on her shoulder. Then he peeled her T-shirt from her body, as she lifted her arms.
“I aim to please, too.”
“You don’t have to do anything to please me.” He fumbled with her bra. “Except take this off.”
She obliged and threw the undergarment over her head.
Chip scrambled to his feet and went to investigate.
“He’s not going to chew that up, is he?” Sam had stopped caressing her breast as he eyed Chip across the room.
“Don’t worry about him.” She tried yanking down the sweats, but she was still sitting on Sam’s lap and didn’t get very far. “Should we take this into the bedroom...away from the watching eyes of Chip?”
“Definitely.”
He scooped her up in his arms, both of them topless now, and she pressed her bare skin against his. She’d missed the feel of him.
He carried her into the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind them. “In case Chip gets any ideas.”
She slid off his body and stood on her tiptoes, as he kissed her by the side of the bed, one hand placed at the back of her head. She didn’t even mind the slight shaft of pain that needled her neck.
Her fingers slipped into the waistband of the sweats and tugged them down over the curve of his backside. Her hands kneaded his muscled buttocks, which he flexed for her benefit. “Someone’s been running.”
He stepped out of the sweats and kicked them across the floor. Then he reached for the button on her jeans.
“Wait.” She grabbed his hand and, placing the palm of her other hand against his chest, she pushed him back a few steps. “I want to see what I’ve been missing these past few years.”
Always the goofball, Sam folded his hands behind his head and posed, his erection on full display. The glow from the moon coming through the window played across the planes and bulges of his body.
“Is there enough light in here for you to get the full effect of my manliness? All we have is your charging phone and the moon.”
She snorted and slid a hand along his shaft. “I couldn’t miss this with a night-light.”
As she caressed him, he closed his eyes and caught his breath. “Your hands feel like silk, but you know what I really miss?”
She dragged her nails down his chest. “This?”
He gasped. “No.”
She knelt before him and ran her tongue along the length of him. “This?”
“Oh.” His body shuddered. “No.”
She took him in her mouth, sucking him hard, her own pleasure heating her blood. When she finished, she looked up. “That?”
He growled. “All of it, but what I really miss is how you used to trail your hair down my body. I can fantasize about that in the middle of the day, and it never fails to make me hard.”
“Must make chasing bad guys a little...hard.” She smirked at her joke.
He fell across the bed. “Come here and make my fantasies come true.”
Crouching beside him, she whipped her hair back and forth, and then proceeded to lean over him, the ends of her hair tickling his flesh. “Like this?”
“It’s even better than I remember, but why do you still have your jeans on?” He unbuttoned her fly and yanked down the zipper.
In one move, he swept her onto her back and pulled her pants and underwear off the rest of the way.
His eyes gleamed in the semidarkness. “You’re right. There’s plenty of light in here to see all the good stuff.”
Nudging her legs apart, he kneeled between them. He bent over her and took possession of her mouth, kissing her hard. He skimmed his hand over the top of his head. “I’d run my hair over your body, but I think it’d be prickly instead of sensuous. I do have other tricks at my disposal, though.”
“Did you always talk this much during sex?” She rubbed her hands against the flared muscles of his thighs.
“Must be nerves.” He took one of her nipples between his lips and suckled her, as his fingers moved between her legs.
He played with her throbbing folds just enough to get her squirming. Then he switched his attentions to her other peaked nipple.
She sucked in a breath and lifted her hips from the bed. She gritted her teeth and said, “You know what my fantasy has been since the minute I laid eyes on you in the desert?”
He stopped teasing her breast, but his fingers kept toying with her. Resting his scruffy chin on her chest, he said, “What?”
“You, inside of me.”
“Like this?” He shoved two fingers into her core.
She thrashed her head to the side and bit her lip. “While that’s nice...”
“Nice?” With his fingers still inside her, he dragged his thumb across her swollen flesh.
A low moan wrenched from her throat. “More than nice, but I want that other part of your anatomy inside me. You know, the bigger part.”
His lips twisted and before she even had time to prepare herself for the onslaught, he plowed into her.
She clawed at his back. Already driven to the pinnacle by his touch, she held her breath as he thrust against her once, twice, three times.
Her toes curled and all her muscles coiled the second before the first wave of passion coursed through her body. Other waves followed, each a little less intense than that first crash, each flooding her with warmth.
Before she got too relaxed, Sam’s body stiffened and in a hoarse voice, he demanded, “Open your eyes.”
Her lids flew open to meet his intense blue gaze. He stared right into her soul as he came inside her. As his body shuddered, he bent his head and kissed her mouth, just a gentle touch of his lips.
Still connected to her, Sam dug an elbow into the pillow next to her head and braced his chin against his palm. “Did your fantasy go something like that?”
She screwed up her mouth and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Something like that. I think we’ll have to try again later to see if we can get closer.”
He rolled off her body and nestled his front against her side, draping one heavy leg over her hip. “You’ve gotten demanding over the years.”
Pinching his chin, she said, “My resolve went right out the window the minute I saw you in those sweats this afternoon.”
“What resolve was that?” He sucked her thumb into his mouth while he cupped her mound.
“You’re doing it again.” But she didn’t pull away. She wriggled in even closer to him so that his fingers dipped between her legs.
He scraped his nails against the flesh of her inner thighs. “I can always stop.”
“Don’t you dare.” She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.
The light from her phone, charging on her nightstand, drew her gaze. “Oh, God. It looks like I have texts. I hope Wade didn’t wake up Gran to tell her about Melody. Her nerves don’t need that.”
He patted her bottom. “Go ahead and look. I’m going to hit the bathroom.”
Reluctantly, she slid from his body, and then a twinge of guilt needled her brain. Her cousin had died tonight and here she was rolling in the sheets with Sam.
As Sam clambered from the bed and staggered to the bathroom door, the sheets twisted around his ankles, Jolene curled her legs beneath her and snatched her phone from the charger. Drawing her brows together, she tapped the first text and blood pounded against her temples.
“Sam! Sam!” She brought the phone close to her face, the words from the text swimming in front of her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” He came charging out of the bathroom, his hair wild, his eyes wide.
She held out her phone to face him. “I got a message from Melody.”