21. Pre-meditated
Pre-meditated
Wade
“I can’t find my two biggest suspects. I need your help.” My hands splay flat on the oak table as I stare down Dixon and Mason.
They glance at each other, then Dixon frowns.
“What exactly does that mean?” The words sound more like a growl as he leans back, crossing his chest with his thick arms.
“Who?” Mason yawns.
Guess having two babies in a year is catching up to him.
“Max Simmons and your brother. I ruled out John, he’s somewhere in upstate New York doing five years for drug use.” I might be compromising my case, but I’ve known these guys long enough to know they don’t hold any love for their youngest sibling.
Not after he killed Mason’s wife a decade ago.
Dixon reaches out and drops one finger on the picture of Max. “You want me to find the brother of my wife’s abusive ex? Drag him back into her life? You better make damn sure you’re barking up the right tree, Wade.”
I let out a long sigh and readjust my hat out of frustration. “You see, that’s the kicker. I can’t go questioning him without throwing up red flags to the judge. And I need more than probable cause to get a warrant on him, or I’ll be cock-blocked from every angle by morning.”
Mason watches us with thin lips. “How is it down to only those two?”
My shoulders rise and fall. “They’re the only two that Elena was able to identify from old photos as being at her dad’s house. The perp mentioned to her that they had been friends.”
“Hell, Wade. Quincy was in all kinds of shit, I heard. Didn’t he get busted for dog fighting, and then breaking into that pawn shop?
” Mason’s eyes narrow. “Cade wasn’t involved in any of that shit.
He kept his nose clean for the most part.
Just drank too fucking much.” His palm runs over his face as he stifles another yawn.
“He sure won’t threaten kids. That I do know. But Max? Who knows.”
“Well, his brother sure was a piece of work,” Dixon spits.
I remember the bruises on Char’s face all too well. “Good riddance. Popped that noggin like a pimple,”I chuckle.
Blue and I had to do rock-paper-scissors to see who got to take the shot. For Blue’s conscience, I’m glad I won. Last thing he needs is more blood on his hands.
I’ve got plenty already.
Mason scratches his jaw idly. “But he wouldn’t have any bone to pick with me. Maybe Dix? Are you sure these are the only two? It feels like something’s missing.” He twirls his empty coffee cup, then stands to head towards the kitchen.
I think he’s right. “Then who else could it possibly be? And how do I go tracking them down without tipping them off and Elena’s sister getting hurt?”
“I don’t have an answer for you, but leave my wife out of it.” Dixon jabs that thick finger in my direction.
He’s about the only guy who’s bigger than me. Tousles in our youth proved he would usually win the fight more often than not.
My palms go up in surrender. “I’m trying, honest. But don’t y’all want to know who’s behind all this?” I can feel my forehead furrowing as I stare between them.
“Yep,” Mason groans, sliding into his seat with a steaming mug. “It just has to be the right person. Then all I ask is two minutes with them…” The corner of his mouth tugs up into a sinister smile.
“Is this where I plug my ears so I can’t call it ‘pre-meditated’ later?” I shuffle the photo into the folder. “Can you at least do me the favor of seeing if you can track down Cade? Or—” This makes me gulp before I ask. “—did he pass and I just haven’t heard?”
This time it’s Mason’s turn to shrug. “I suppose Mom would have told me. Maybe? I dunno. Next time I talk to her I’ll see if I can feel her out about it.”
“When will that be?” I’m antsy to find any path at this point.
Mason laughs. “Soon. She loves video chatting with the babies. They’re coming back out next month to see all the new ones.”
Dixon’s proud grin matches Mason’s.
New children are being born around here faster than I can keep up.
I’m starting to think hell must be freezing over when I heard Ford and Blue are gonna be daddies too.
Now I’m the only one of us without kids. There’s something a little depressing about that fact.
The only woman I loved enough to even consider it is gone.
Maybe after Elena leaves I’ll be able to meet someone—
Except that thought makes my stomach squeeze into a tight ass knot.
I don’t want her to go. Her easy, fun, flirtatious company has me driving home early every chance I get.
She makes me feel wanted, not as an agent of the law, but as a man.
A provider. And an advocate for her and her sister.
There’s a part of me that hopes I can rescue that little girl, if for no other reason than to see the look of thanks on Elena’s face.
“Wade?” Mason slaps my upper arm lightly. “Ya zoned out there, buddy. I was just saying, We gotta go help Sawyer unload a trailer of hay from Shufflebottom’s. Keep us posted, huh?” He takes his and Dixon’s empty dishes to the sink.
“That reminds me, it looks like I’ll end up with a few extra round bales this year if you wanted to send him over next weekend?” All that grass I cut a few days ago should be ready.
It’s so damn hot out, it was likely popcorn fart dry this past weekend.
Elena had me distracted going through her suspect list.
“Sounds good.” Mason tugs his boots on and nods before leaving.
“Thanks, Wade.” Dixon smacks me in the same place Mason had. “Let’s not poke that hornet’s nest unless we have to.” His mustache twitches over his tight lips.
“No problem. Last thing I want is Judge Simmons turning on me.” I grimace at the idea.
The bad part about a small town, anyone in power can make life miserable through their connections, and the judge has fifty years of them.
August heat rolls off the hood of my truck when I climb in, and a burst of hot air from the vents makes a sheen of sweat pop out on my neck.
One of those rootbeer floats that Maria used to fix up for me at the ice cream shop sounds pretty damn good about now.
Screw it, I’m getting one.
Two.
They balance in the cardboard carrier as I push in the door to the house.
“Elena? I brought home a surprise!” I call out.
Silence answers.
That’s weird.
I set them on the counter, then knock on her room. “Elena? Got headphones in?”
My breath comes a little faster.
Did she…?
No. She wouldn’t have escaped.
Fucking Paige would be here already.
A noise has me jerking my head towards the stairs leading down. Soft patting, accompanied by a low humming.
Ahh. Sounds like she’s working out.
I bet she’ll really enjoy the cold treat.
Rescuing the sweating paper cups from the kitchen, my boots fall heavy on the wooden stairs until I reach the concrete floor.
Her shorts are snug over the swell of her ass as she dances from side to side with her raven hair in a high ponytail facing away from me, lifting a small set of weights in the air over her head.
All while singing slightly offkey to the music in her earbuds.
Should I tap on her shoulder?
Nah. I want to watch the show.
Finding a seat on the weight bench, I let the cups dangle from each hand while I rest my elbows on my knees.
She bounces and hums, turning and twisting just enough I can catch glimpses of her full breasts bouncing under her sports bra.
The urge to touch my cold palm to her hot belly sends a surge of blood to my crotch. It’s getting more and more difficult to resist wanting to feel her.
Her arms raise as she belts out the last lines of her song, then she turns.
And they fall, dropping the weights to the mat beneath her.
“Wade! You startled me! I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Her flushed cheeks pull into a wide grin as she tugs out her headphones.
I hold up the cups with the little plastic spoons. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so got us both rootbeer floats.”
“Oh my god! My mom used to make them for me when she worked at Frozen Bones.” Her fingers brush mine when she picks up her drink.
“Yea, I don’t know how these will compare.” I shrug. A tinge of doubt hits me.
Maybe it’s time I leave Maria in the past? Was this in memory of her? Or something else?
Elena sips some of the sudsy soda and giggles when some of the foam sticks to her nose. “It’s amazing. Here, try it.”
Before I can stop her, she wipes it with her thumb and smears the bubbles onto my lips.
It tickles fire through my body, an arc that ripples its way all the way to my loins.
My hand snakes out, catching her wrist in my grip.
With a sharp inhale, she freezes. Her pupils dilate as she fixates on me.
Meeting her dark eyes, I flick out my tongue, tracing the last droplet from the pad of her finger before letting her go.
Her exhale washes over me, a sweet wave tinted with soda.
Shit.
What the hell am I doing?
She’s making me break my own rules. I can’t fucking do this.
Standing quickly, I turn to the stairs. I need some air.
“It’s too hot in here,” I grunt, then rush away.