Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
S arah Sloan’s Review
Admitting how much you admire Cole Carter’s ass: 0 stars
Would not recommend. Disappointing experience, especially when shared with certain people, including but not limited to elderly ladies, the minister’s grandmother and every single lady in the known universe. Also makes you think about Cole Carter’s ass even more.
Additional Review
Writing an entire book about Cole Carter (although mainly his ass): 0 stars
When choosing the subject of a book, may want to refrain from using your childhood nemesis/current employee/man with awesome ass as your subject. Someone might notice. Plus, it may seem like you are somewhat interested/attracted/infatuated with said childhood nemesis/current employee/man with awesome ass.
Additional Additional Review
Cole Carter’s Ass: 1 billion stars
She was losing her mind.
Strike that – her mind was already gone. Walked out, left a “It’s not me, it’s you” letter and hitched a ride to Jupiter without a forwarding address. There was no other explanation for what happened when she invited Cole Carter into her home.
If she wasn’t a police officer and didn’t know the difficulty of mounting an insanity defense, she would claim it here. But in truth, she knew very well what would happen. She’d even removed her shirt in front of him! There was no reason she couldn’t have asked him to wait in the car while she took it off and changed into something decent. No, deep down she wanted him to come in, wanted him to stay, wanted far more than that, actually. And what did she want now? She didn’t have a clue.
But somehow Cole did.
He talked about them, about relationships, about a future far beyond a casual fling. Yet after all they had been through, could she afford to take that chance? Could she afford not to?
“Any new leads?”
Sarah gasped and pivoted, dropping the file she’d been holding and spilling its contents all over the floor. Cole hovered right next to her, stalwart and authoritative, his muscular chest filling her vision. She hadn’t even heard him enter her office. Clearly, her usually sharp police instincts had hitched a ride with her mind and were currently soaring through the stratosphere.
This was getting bad.
“Let me.” Cole delved closer, but she waved him away, bending down to pick up the papers herself. Frustration tangled with annoyance, irritation and anger – not at him, but at herself. If Cole could so easily startle her in her own office, what would happen when a true emergency rose?
Yet even that awareness couldn’t stop the attraction – uninvited, immediate and all-encompassing. Today Cole wore blue jeans and a black shirt that molded to every single muscle. She should make a rule he wear something far less distracting, like a paper bag. Strike that, he would be attractive in a paper bag, especially if it just covered his… ahem. She wrenched her thoughts from the gutter, refocused on the man who was as tempting as a chocolate ice scream sundae she wanted to lick right up.
“What did you say?”
She looked up sharply. “What?”
“I thought you said something.”
Not good. Not only was she indulging in lustful thoughts about Cole, she was unconsciously vocalizing them.
“Something about licki–”
“Kicking!” she shot out. “I could be kicking myself right now.” To be fair, it was true. “But to answer your question, we don’t have any new leads.” She tossed the file on her desk. The case was frustrating, but even it didn’t overwhelm her like the force that was Cole Carter.
As always, he read her perfectly. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re preoccupied. Are you ready to talk about it?”
She reopened the file, burying her nose in it. She wasn’t hiding from him, just studying intently. “Talk about what?”
His silence said she wasn’t fooling him. “I’ll give you time, but not forever. Eventually, you’re going to have to face me.”
Yes, she would.
Yet for now, she had a reprieve, as he backed away. “As for the case, there has to be some leads.”
Sarah sighed and lowered the file once more. “There really aren’t any, at least none that are apparent. The usual suspects didn’t pan out, and every possible culprit has a tight alibi for one or more of the incidents. Of course, there could be a group working together, but it’s much more difficult to hide that sort of thing. Usually someone gets careless.”
“What about the unusual suspects?”
Sarah straightened. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “It sounds like you’ve ruled out the most likely culprits – people with long records or delinquents. However, the repeat offenders don’t always commit the crime.” He looked at her pointedly. “Sometimes you think of people in a certain way, and when something happens, you just assume. But maybe you have to look a little deeper.”
He was not just talking about the case, and not even about the present. Had he somehow discovered the truth? “Is that what you’re doing?” Immediately she wished she could take it back, even as curiosity soared. Was he planning to dig into her past? Was he already digging into her past?
He regarded her evenly. “It’s time somebody did.”
She stiffened. If he looked deep enough, he would discover a far different past than he remembered. She forced herself forward. “If you look at it that way, everyone in town is a suspect.”
The sides of his lips quirked up. “Then it’s lucky we don’t live in New York City.”
Small favors. It was a clever point from a far too clever man, and one to be taken seriously. It was easy to miss clues from the least expected culprit, just as it was easy to find unfounded ones in those you expect. She gestured to the bulletin board, where photographs from each incident were spread in a meticulous grid. “We’ve been speculating on possible motives. We don’t think he’s trying to hurt anyone or cause major damage since none of the incidents accomplished either, thank goodness. Of course, there’s always the ‘just for kicks’ or ‘not quite all there’ motive.”
“True.” Cole leaned back on the desk. “Although someone capable of committing arson due to instability is likely to already be on your radar. My money is there’s some sort of logic behind this.”
“If there is, we haven’t found it. We can’t connect any two of the crime scenes, much less all of them.”
“Maybe there’s something else that connects them. Something not related to their locations.” Cole studied the bulletin board. “Think about it. What are the repercussions of a crime spree? The town gets a reputation, the area isn’t as nice, people don’t feel safe.”
“This is the first time Harmony Creek feels unsafe.” Sarah fingered the badge she’d worked so hard to earn. Its point pricked the soft tissue of her finger, sending a shot of pain up her arm. “It’s during my watch. I feel awful about that.”
Cole turned sharply from the board, peered at her. “What did you say?”
“I said I feel awful this is happening under my jurisdiction. We’re doing everything we can to catch the criminal, but I still feel like I’m letting everyone down.” Sarah gazed at the bucolic scene out the window, the postcard perfect world that always seemed just out of reach. Green fields stretched, dotted by majestic trees, jewel-colored flowers and soaring birds. Once again, she’d shared too much with Cole. He already thought she didn’t deserve the job – she didn’t need to give him more ammunition.
Yet a growing smile showed no ill will. “Could that be our motive?”
She tore her gaze away from blue skies and endless fields of green. “Could what be our motive?”
“You.”
She set her jaw, sharpened her gaze to a sliver. She’d known this was coming, yet it still stung like a wasp’s embrace. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“No.” Cole shook his head with genuine surprise. “I’m not implying you did it.”
He wasn’t? “I don’t understand.”
“I’m implying you’re the motive .” He leaned closer, lowered his voice. “Could someone be setting the fires to damage your reputation?”
“Damage my reputation?” A shiver traced her spine, frigid and burning and everything in between. “Who would do that? And why?”
Cole lifted a shoulder, pierced her with jade eyes. “You tell me.”
“I have no idea,” she said honestly. She’d had a difficult relationship with some residents as a child, but matters had calmed down with time’s passing. Most people respected her position, with one glaring exception now staring at her. “I can only think of one person who sees my every fault. Maybe you’re the criminal.”
He folded his arms, which molded the fabric to his chest, which outlined those luscious muscles, which make her think of…
He cleared his throat. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely.” She lifted her chin from luscious muscles. “However, then you’d lose your designation as the world’s biggest boy scout, so no. But do you really think someone is out to get me?”
“I don’t know. At this point, we should explore every angle.”
He was right, and she hated when he was right. She especially hated that he was right so often. “Okay, so let’s talk about it. Who might want to make me lo–”
“Hey Sherriff–” Scott knocked on the open door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s important. There’s been another incident.”
Sarah stood, rubbing the bridge of her nose, where a headache was forming. “Let me guess. Arson?”
Scott darted his gaze to Cole, then back again. He nodded. “In Richards Park. Someone destroyed the clock.”
The headache notched up several degrees. “Now who would want to destroy a clock?”
“Someone who’s really late to work?” Scott quipped. He grinned sheepishly at Sarah’s harsh look. “Sorry. But um, yeah, it was the clock. There wasn’t anything else to catch fire, so it just burned itself out. You can actually still see the time frozen on the face.”
Sarah put the files in a stack and grabbed her equipment. “Scott, you stay here in case another call comes in. Cole, you come with me.” She didn’t even realize what she’d done until she was walking next to a determined looking Cole. Why had she invited Cole instead of Scott, who’d been with the department longer than any of current officers? A second later she knew why. Even if he hadn’t been a cop for long, Cole was the best at his job. He’d just proven it by giving new direction to an investigation that had come to a standstill.
They didn’t speak as they entered the car, or for the first few minutes of the short drive. Yet she was ever aware of his looming presence and steady regard, as he watched her like a puzzle to be solved. Finally, he said lowly, “Sarah, do you have an alibi for every fire?”
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel until her palms burned. “I don’t like where this conversation is headed.”
“I’m not suggesting you’re a suspect,” he said mildly. “I just want to know if you have an alibi.”
Was this a trap to get her to incriminate herself? Had his suggestion before been a decoy? Intelligent eyes revealed nothing, yet refusing to answer would make him even more suspicious. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Most of the fires happened at night, and in such quiet places they weren’t discovered until hours later. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact times. There was the one that happened while we were at the diner.”
“But no one was actually with you when it occurred.”
She hardened, didn’t respond.
“So you don’t have a solid alibi for any of them?” he pressed. “Like one happening while you were at work or something?”
She reconsidered the times, shook her head. “I’d have to look back at the schedule to be sure, but no, probably not. That is, unless this one just occurred and wasn’t only recently discovered. We’ll have to see when we get there.” She shifted uncomfortably. “What’s this all about, if you’re not trying to prove my guilt?”
“I’m not implicating you, but maybe someone else is. Perhaps they want more than to damage your reputation. Perhaps they want people to believe you’re the arsonist.”
Her breath hitched. He thought someone was framing her? Before she could ask a million or so questions, they arrived at the small community park, a green space of dewy grass, tall oak trees and bougainvilleas overfull with cascading violet leaves. The sweet scent of lilies and gardenias filled the car, complemented by the stronger smell of pine and grass. A small stream babbled a path in the center, where tiny furry and feathered residents scurried, flitted and crawled, living in a harmonic ecosystem next to their human counterparts. It was a place of beauty, calmness and meditation, at least usually.
Right now, the scene was anything but serene. A small crowd had gathered around the fallen clock, paying solemn respects to the former town treasure. Both the decorative timepiece and its ornate wooden stand were now a heap of broken timber, melted beams and twisty gears, utterly unsalvageable. Her heart cracked, just a little. Who would do this?
Whoever it was, she would find them. She jerked the car into park and jogged into the open space. “Everyone stay back,” she ordered. “We don’t want anyone getting burned.”
But her fears were unfounded, as she came upon the remains. Unlike her last fiery dance with the arsonist, there was no smoke or smoldering. Clearly the danger was over, at least for now.
“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Leonard, the town’s sole parks and recreation worker, stared at the clock, his long, bony hands shoved into the pockets of his overalls. His shock of white hair was limp, the grooves of his weathered face deepened and his expression devastated . He used to proudly tell every resident and visitor for the last three decades how he witnessed the installation of the clock. “It’s just a little warm. It happened hours ago – you can still make out the time.”
How peculiar. Everything was destroyed to tiny pieces, except the clock’s face. As the older man indicated, the frozen hands were still visible through the broken glass.
“1:25 a.m.” Cole frowned as he traced a twisted piece of metal. “It’s not hot enough to burn, but it does feel warm. That’s strange considering how long ago it was. Was the clock definitely working?”
Leonard nodded. “To the second. I stopped by the park yesterday afternoon, and it showed the right time. This morning, nothing was left. But I wasn’t the one who found it. Someone claims to have seen the guy.”
“Really?” Cole lifted himself up and removed a digital recorder from his pocket. “Who would be in the park at one-thirty in the morning? And why?”
Sarah rubbed her hands together. It didn’t matter who they were or why they were there. This was the first break in the case – a witness who could potentially identify the criminal. “We’d like to talk to him immediately.”
Leonard shifted his gaze to the grassy ground. He should be happy to help catch the arsonist who’d been setting the town ablaze, yet his discomfort was palpable. “The man doesn’t need much of a reason to do anything. To be honest, I’m not sure he can help.”
“Why not?” Sarah looked around. “Where is he?”
“He’s right here,” a loud voice sounded from the bushes, and a man came stumbling through. Sarah swore under her breath as Leonard’s reluctance became painfully clear. “Why are you frowning, girl? Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Not when he was drunk, hungover or both. Which was pretty much always. With bloodshot eyes, filth-covered clothing and a drunk man’s stagger, Alfred Tanning presented a sorry scene. He reeked of seventeen types of alcohol, and by his sticky chest and hair, he’d all but showered in them. The entire crowd took a step back.
Sarah sighed. “I’m working, Dad.”
Cole moved closer, brushing against her. His steady presence was a sign of solidarity, support and comfort, lightening her spirits, despite the situation. She regarded her father, forced out the words, “Leonard says you were here overnight. Did you see anything?”
“Of course, I did. I’ve been telling these idiots for the last twenty minutes, but they won’t listen to me.”
Sarah winced. “Dad–”
“I’m telling you, it didn’t happen overnight. It was just a few hours ago. I saw him with my very own eyes.”
She didn’t ask why he’d spent the night in the park. It wasn’t the first time. “But the clock stopped at 1:25 in the morning.”
“I don’t care what the clock says. He tinkered with the time before he set it on fire. It was broad daylight outside, not nighttime. And it was a big guy, like a linebacker. Actually, I can picture him in a football uniform just like the one he used to wear.” He jerked a finger toward Cole, or at least made an attempt. Instead, he implicated a prickly cactus as both arsonist and football player.
Sarah closed and opened her eyes. She exchanged a glance with Cole, who raised a silent shoulder. Even if there was virtually no chance of Alfred giving an accurate description, much less something admissible in court, she needed to be as thorough as possible. “What did he look like?”
“He tried to tell us earlier,” Leonard broke in. “First he said he had black hair. Then blond. Then it was red. Next, he thought it was a woman. Finally, he said it may have been a large pink rabbit. He’s been…” He tipped his hand in a drinking gesture. “You know.”
Sarah sighed as Cole clicked off the digital recorder. There was a difference between being thorough and wasting your time, and pink bunnies definitely crossed that line. “Thanks, Dad, but we can handle it from here. Can you wait on the bench while I finish up?”
“No, Sarah!” Alfred raised his voice, startling the jittery crowd. Sarah gritted her teeth. She really didn’t feel like arresting him for public intoxication… again.
He stumbled closer. “I know what I saw. I may have been a little confused earlier from a beer or two, but I’m sober now. I’m telling you, it just happened, and it was a big guy.”
“Okay, Dad,” Sarah said wearily. “Let me get some statements. Please.”
Alfred opened his mouth to argue further, but Cole stepped closer. He spoke quietly, “Sir, we can’t do a full investigation without giving everyone a chance to speak. Please let Sarah do her job.”
Alfred looked at Cole, then at his daughter. His shoulders drooped. “I guess I’m not sure of exactly what I saw.”
Cole nodded, not unkindly. “Let me help you to the bench.”
Surprisingly, Alfred allowed Cole to lead him to the metal seat. The older man slumped on its wide slats, the portrait of utter defeat, and Sarah’s heart scabbed over a thousand older wounds. No matter how many years passed, it pierced like a dagger every time her dad proved he would never change.
Cole strode back and addressed the crowd. “Did anyone else see the criminal?” A sea of people shook their heads, leaving them without a lead once again. Sarah and Cole took notes, examined the clock and searched for clues, but as with the other scenes, it was as clean as their suspect list. The criminal was obviously smart enough to wear gloves.
Sarah stood back as Cole finished speaking to the residents. Could he be right? Could someone be trying to make her look bad, or worse, framing her? With the stopped clock as evidence, this crime scene certainly didn’t vindicate her. Yet what about him?
Did he think she was guilty?
Cole sat in the car, waiting, watching and wondering. Waiting for Sarah as she helped her dad into his home, watching him argue and wondering about the events of the morning, the not-so-helpful statements from the people, the ambiguous ones from Alfred. If only the man had been sober when he’d seen the criminal, they might’ve had something to pursue. If the crime truly occurred in the morning, or if Alfred actually recognized him as a former football player, it could revitalize the entire investigation.
Yet the impaired man thought it equally likely a pink bunny had committed the crime. Obviously under the influence, he hadn’t been able to remember clearly, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be right about the timing. The metal seemed too hot for an overnight crime, but perhaps he was finding clues he wanted to exist. If Alfred was right, it could prove someone was trying to frame Sarah, making it appear as if the crime occurred when she had no alibi. If it happened while she was at the police station, her innocence would be confirmed.
Cole wasn’t ready to believe Alfred, but he wasn’t ready to dismiss him either. And whether or not he saw what he thought he did, the real criminal could still be setting up Sarah.
He’d briefly entertained the possibility that Sarah was the arsonist, but it seemed wrong, impossible even. No matter how wild she’d been in the past – and he was having serious doubts as to the accuracy of his memory – she was no criminal now.
The front door opened, and Sarah trudged out, every feature tight, taut and exhausted. She shook her head, and the weariness seemingly disappeared, replaced by an expressionless mask. How long had she hidden her troubles from the world, from him? Had she ever had anyone to turn to?
Suddenly, he wanted very much to be that person.
“How’s your dad?” he asked when she entered the car and fastened her seat belt. He shifted the car into drive and pulled onto the street.
“Okay.” Yet her voice was strained as she slumped back in the seat. “Sleeping it off.”
“And you?”
“Me?” She blinked, as if the question surprised her. Didn’t anyone ever ask how she was? “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.” He kept his voice soft and light. “The situation with your dad must be stressful. Why did you keep it a secret?”
For a minute, she stayed silent, studying the world outside the window. Finally, she spoke lowly, “It’s hard to talk about family issues, especially when they’re so dark. It was harder back then, but now I’m an adult. I’m fine, really.”
All those years, and she never said anything. “You’ve been handling this alone for a long time, haven’t you? Did you ever consider rehab?”
She nodded. “I’d love to send him to a facility. There’s an amazing program in Orlando that has great success with lifelong alcoholics. Unfortunately, it costs a bundle. Even if he agreed to go, which I doubt, I couldn’t afford it.”
“But can you afford to keep hiring people to sit with him, or leaving your job to care for him?”
“I don’t have a choice.” A flash of pain darkened her expression. “There’s no one else. I appreciate your concern, but don’t worry. I have it all under control.”
“Have you always had everything under control, Sarah?” At her sharp gaze, he pressed forward. “Your present doesn’t match your past, or at least the one I always believed. Your dad saying he destroyed your life, my dad saying I don’t know the whole story. What don’t I know?” He pulled into the police station, but before she could disembark, he touched her arm. He resisted the urge to pull her close. “Have I been wrong about you this whole time?”
She paled. Would she admit the truth? Unlikely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her toneless voice hid a thousand shades of emotion. “Not that it matters. All that’s important is you know who I am now.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.” He edged closer, letting all his possessiveness show. He expected her to retreat, but instead she leaned in, ever the slightest. “The past does matter. It made you who you are today, who you’ll be tomorrow. I’d like to know the real you.”
She looked out the window at the endless sky, her eyes reflective, glassy, fathomless. After a moment, she shook her head and pulled back. “My business is my own. Just like you don’t tell me everything about yourself.”
“I don’t?” The bait was obvious, yet still he took it. “What would you like to know?”
She shrugged, yet interest flashed in her eyes. She tapped her fingers against the dash. “You never told me why you suddenly froze at the tree, then again at the fire.”
The world turned frigid. He drew back. “I didn’t tell you because there was nothing to say. I just got distracted.”
After a moment, she nodded, yet clear suspicion belied the acquiescence. “There you go. We both have secrets, just like everyone else. Let’s keep our relationship professional, and everything will be fine.”
Did she truly believe that, or was she fooling herself as much as him? “I’m not so sure our relationship is professional anymore.”
“Just because we shared a kiss–”
He folded his arms.
“Two kisses–”
He looked at her steadily.
“Fine, just because we shared multiple kisses doesn’t mean something is going on.”
“Then what does it mean?” he challenged. “Why don’t we put it to a test?” Then he did what he’d wanted to do since the last of their multiple kisses. He brushed those enchanting lips.
She was delicious. Like apple pie and pure sunshine, she was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. She responded beautifully, pushing forward until she was flush against his body. She was so soft, so small – he forgot how much when she showcased her boundless strength. Right now, he only wanted to hold, protect and care for her.
After a second, she pulled back. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” In the next second, she pushed into his arms again, surrendering to him as he plundered anew. It was almost as if she knew this was right.
Almost, or did?
The sound of a car backfiring shattered the moment. It must have boosted her willpower, because she broke away, and this time her resistance was strong. She stared at him for a moment; in the next, she was gone, fleeing out the door but not out of his world. Not by any means.
He sat alone in a car, silent save for his own rapid breaths. He didn’t know how long he sat there, five seconds, five minutes or five hours, but so much flashed through his mind, it could’ve been five years. There was so much to consider, so much to contemplate, so much to decide . So many truths to reveal. First and foremost:
It hadn’t been enough.
It wasn’t just about getting close to Sarah, or the physical attraction, although there was enough of that to fill a mountain. No, it was about becoming closer, learning more, discovering the truth. Because he was making his own truth.
He wanted her permanently .