Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
JACK
“Hey,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to Alaska’s forehead.
She shifts against me, her breath a whisper against my chest. She’s been curled into me all night, her small fingers clutching my sweater like I might disappear if she lets go.
I spent the last thirty minutes watching her, memorizing the delicate way her eyelashes flutter when she dreams, the way the first light of dawn paints her skin in honeyed gold.
I should leave soon and be at the station in thirty minutes.
But damn, she’s too beautiful like this.
Smelling like fresh pastries and something distinctly her.
She stirs, a small moan leaving her lips as she buries her face deeper into chest.
“Jack,” she mutters, voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?” She lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the morning light. I catch her wrist, pressing a slow kiss to each of her knuckles.
“Six-thirty,” I murmur. “I have to g-go.” I graze my lips over her palm, watching the way her pupils dilate at the touch.
“But I don’t want to,” I admit. She bites her bottom lip, hesitant, and the motion sends a slow burn rolling through my ribcage.
“I v-v-very much want to, um, k-kiss you right now.” My voice is hoarse and heavy.
Her fingers skim my jaw, sending a jolt of electricity through every inch of me.
“Then kiss me.”
I don’t wait for another confirmation. In one motion, I pull her close to me and crush my lips on hers, this time in a much more hurried way.
I devour her, taking my sweet time, discovering every single part of her mouth that hasn’t been claimed by me yet.
Eyes shut, my other hand runs through her silky hair, grabbing a fistful of those wild brown locks that keep me borderline insane each time I see her.
She’s taken aback at first, but in a matter of seconds, she’s giving back just as good.
She gasps into my mouth, fingers twisting into my hair, lets out a whimper, and the last thread of my control snaps.
My hands roam, mapping the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine.
She melts against me, like snow on a sunny day.
The shrill ring of my phone drags me back to reality. I groan against her pillow-soft lips, my forehead resting on hers as I reach blindly for it on the nightstand. Alaska breathes heavily, her fingers still tangled in my hair.
I glance at the screen and accept the call.
“Jared,” I rasp.
"Where the hell are you? Captain’s already in, and he wants us to go through the new witness tapes." Damn it, I forgot about that. I run a hand on my nape, exhaling sharply.
"I'm-I’m on my way." I end the call. Alaska watches me, her expression soft with a veil of worry passing by her long lashes. I cup her cheek, tracing my thumb over her lips. “I have to go.” Her fingers linger on my chest, hesitant.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
She bites her lip, then shakes her head.
“Nothing.”
It’s not nothing.
But my phone buzzes again, and I know I don’t have time to push.
I really have to go. I press one last kiss to her plush lips before forcing myself up.
It takes everything in me to leave her. Circling the bed, I gather my things and angle myself to caress her hair.
Still tangled in the sheets, she’s the spitting image of temptation.
“You’ll tell me next time,” I vow, wishing I could stay with her. “When c-c-can I see you a-again?” I ask, stroking her jaw with my thumb.
“The sooner the better,” she murmurs, looking down, and I take her chin between my fingers, connecting our gazes. A second stretches and I sigh, flexing my hand.
“I’ll m-make my way out, you-you stay here,” I tell her, not wanting her to get out of her comfortable bed. She embraces my touch and tilts her head in my palm.
“Have a good day, Officer,” she lets out with a devilish smile and I’m taken off guard.
Images of her as my wife telling me goodbye on the doorstep each morning flash before my eyes, kids holding on to her legs while I wave at them one last time before getting in my car.
Speechless, I give a clipped nod and storm out, fighting the urge to come back to her.
By the time I get to my place, I’m moving on autopilot, stripping off my clothes, jumping into the shower, letting the scalding water rinse away the lack of sleep.
I brace a hand against the shower tiles, breathing deep.
This could be it, if I find a way to stay, to get her to open up to me.
It would be worth it, more than worth it.
Because time spent without her is wasted.
I'll either be with Alaska or miserable somewhere else.
Ten minutes later, I’m dressed, shoving my keys into my pocket as I step outside.
The morning air is crisp, biting at my skin as I slide into my car.
The streets are still asleep when I pull up to the station.
Stepping inside, the scent of burnt coffee and old paper hits me as I make my way down the hall.
Jared's already waiting at his desk, arms crossed.
"Took you long enough," he complains, tossing a file onto my desk.
“We agreed on s-seven.” I arch a brow, reminding him.
“Did we? Shit, sorry.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“It's alright.” I shrug, even though him rushing me out made me lose half an hour I could have spent watching an angel. "Let's get to w-work." It takes me a few minutes to be focused on the case. Guess that’s what happens when I can still taste her on my lips. After pouring myself a cup of coffee, we dig into the paperwork. I yawn a few times and Jared chuckles like he knows something I don’t. Hell, I’m glad he’s not asking me questions because I doubt I would have any answers for him.
We’ve put all the files of case number five on the wall of our office, making it easier to see the whole picture. Jared rummages through a box and sighs.
“Can’t find them here.”
“W-what is it?”
“Captain says there are videotapes we could use, but they ain’t here. I think they’re in the archives. Could you go and grab them? I’m gonna make coffee, it’s gonna take a while,” he says, rubbing his forehead.
“Sure.” I exit our office and head off to the archives, the sign “Do not enter without authorization” written on the door.
It takes me a good five minutes to find another box with a large five marked on it and I pop the lid open, searching for those said tapes.
Only I can’t find anything. There’s paperwork, reports, autopsy photos, that’s for sure.
Wait.
There’s one.
A Black, transparent case with a white label scrawled in faded ink.
W.J.E.L.C.
It shouldn’t be in that box; someone must have misplaced it.
I look around to see if there are any other boxes named after those letters, but nothing seems to fit.
There’s an old television and DVD player in the corner of the room, between all the metallic shelves.
I try to watch it to label it right, but all I can see is a blurry image and a voice.
A girl, maybe. Not sure, the footage is too bad to see anything apart from a light bulb above the witness’s head.
It’s a young voice, I’m guessing, a teenager perhaps, but the sound is too poor to be clear.
The image glitches, gray and white lines splitting and spreading until they fill the entire screen. A prickle creeps up my spine.
“Found the tapes?” shouts Jared from the doorway.
“Yeah, but see this?” I show him the one with the wrong letters on it as he walks to me. “D-does it ring any bell? W.J.E.L.C?”
Jared frowns but then shakes his head. “Nah, no idea. I guess that’s from another case.” Why are the archives so unorganized? It would take me months to put it all back in order.
“You’re s-sure? Those letters must, uh, mean s-s-something.”
“W.J,” he muses. “Could be a name. Or a place.” His brow furrows. “But E.L.C stands for Evidence from Lakeside County. It’s the initials we always use for these kinds of cases.”
Evidence from Lakeside County. My mind flickers to the photograph. The damp piece of fabric. The old veteran’s reaction. And now this tape.
“Put it back in the box, we’ll figure out where it belongs later.
” He shrugs and turns, going back to our office.
I nod, acting disinterested. He told me to drop it, but I can't. If there's even a clue here that could ease the pain of a family, then I must do everything I can. Jared is already halfway down the hall, but I don’t move.
My attention stays glued to the box, the letters burning into my brain.
W.J.E.L.C.
I blink, trying to process. I’m on to something. Like a hunter during a chase. There’s a trail; someone’s been hiding clues and has been leaving messy footsteps all over.
“Jack?” Jared’s voice startles me, and I snap the lid shut.
“C-coming,” I mutter, forcing my feet to move. As I step away, the letters replay in my head, over and over, a riddle I should already know the answer to. A sensation of deja vu floats in my mind. I’ve seen those letters. I swear I’ve seen them before.
There’s too much smoke.
Now, where’s the fire?
Alaska
A romantic song echoes from my radio. My bookshop just opened, and there’s nothing out there but sunny skies and birds fluttering their wings.
What a lovely day.