Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Janey
“You should’ve left them.”
I swing around and glare at the young deputy standing by Sheriff Ewing’s side. Ginger softly growls beside me. I quickly scratch her head to let her know everything is fine.
Frankie has my key and dropped her off at the house after she closed the clinic for the day. The poor girl had been happy to see us, until the sheriff and his deputy showed up a few minutes ago.
“And let the cow die?” I return, trying to keep my voice calm for the dog. “Because that’s what would’ve happened. Those packages were shoved up inside her none too carefully and were causing her to be in serious distress.”
The packages I’m referring to are lined up on my kitchen table. Nine duct-taped, plastic-wrapped, sausage-shaped packages.
I’ve never been so scared in my life, working side by side with JD to clear the rest of the herd as if nothing was wrong, while all the time those packages were hidden in our clothes. JD had me scan as many cows in that trailer as we could get away with without it being noticed, and he recorded everything on his phone. The same high density showed up on the ultrasound of four more cows we were able to examine, and we made note of their tag numbers.
When we finally walked down the ramp of that trailer, I was almost surprised no one was paying much attention to us. Except the driver, who’d finally managed to find a hose and was dragging it to his truck. Despite my shaking hands, I managed to sound fairly stern as I left him with instructions to spray some water on the animals to cool them down.
I don’t think even the driver noticed the portable ultrasound JD was carrying, and even if he did see it, I doubt he’d have known what it was. The unit was back in the truck before we joined Logan in the pen and finished up checking those animals.
They were the most harrowing couple of hours of my life. Logan looked at me funny a few times when I’d fumble or drop something when my nerves got the better of me. But JD and I agreed not to talk to anyone but law enforcement. Besides, telling him would only put him in potential danger too. It’s safer not to know.
“In this case, I think removing them was wise,” Sheriff Ewing tells his deputy. “It may have bought us some time so we can get surveillance in place.” Then he turns to me. “You said this herd came from Alberta?”
I nod. “Yes, as far as I know, the transport crossed the border early this morning. The first two trucks were already there when I got to the rodeo grounds a little after eight this morning, and the third one got here around midday.”
Ewing instructs Deputy Bastian to collect the packages in evidence bags, while he probes us for more details, jotting down the information we’re able to give him in a small notebook.
“I’m going to head out there, I’ll call it a routine check, which I probably would’ve done tomorrow anyway. I’ll also have a look at where you said they were burning the carcass of that cow, see if there’s anything left. But first I’m going to call the FBI office in Kalispell. My department is already spread thin because of the rodeo and all the extra traffic it brings to town, but aside from that, this case is bigger than we can handle.”
Then he turns to his deputy. “I want you to run the evidence straight to the office. Log it in, secure it, and then meet me at the park. We’ll have a look around the grounds.”
JD and I walk outside with them. The sheriff is about to get in his cruiser, when he turns around.
“I’m gonna need you both to stick around here. I have a feeling things might move fast once I get a call in to the feds, and I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you themselves.”
“We’ll be here,” JD answers for both of us as he drapes an arm around my shoulders.
“For now,” I amend.
“I’ll give you a heads-up if I know anything more, once I’ve had a chance to talk to them,” Ewing promises before getting behind the wheel.
We don’t even know if and when the FBI will get here. It’s already late in the day, they may not arrive until tomorrow, which would be a bit of an issue. I’ll be expected to show my face at the rodeo arena at some point or my absence might raise suspicions.
Shoot , I didn’t even think of the larger implications. I took this job for the nice paycheck attached, but at the very least this investigation will impact the auction scheduled for tomorrow. Although, I’m sure the cloud will hang over the rodeo as well; I’ll be lucky to get paid at all once all is said and done.
I’m not sure where exactly those cattle came from, other than somewhere in Alberta, but I know Mackey arranged the transport. There’s no way he’s not involved somehow. How could he not be? If anything, his hurry to get rid of the dead cow from the first transport was a glaring red flag.
I wonder where he took off to this afternoon.
“I need a shower,” I announce when the sheriff’s cruiser disappears down the driveway. “I reek.”
I start walking toward the house.
“I don’t smell anything.”
I turn my head and shoot a grin at JD, who is right behind me. “That’s because you reek too.”
“Maybe I should take a shower as well then,” he suggests.
“Take a number.” I stop in the hallway to kick off the boots I wore outside. “In case you forgot, I currently only have the one working shower.”
JD ditches his boots as well and follows me inside. I head straight for the kitchen counter to grab my phone I left there to charge. I don’t want to miss Ewing’s call if he gets back to us with more information while I’m in the shower.
“We could always share.”
I almost jump when his voice sounds right behind me. I didn’t hear him move, he’s quiet without his boots.
The moment I turn around to face him, he braces a hand on the counter on either side of me, effectively caging me in. His brown eyes are only inches from mine, reading my face. Thoughts of his slick tawny skin sliding against my much paler tones as our wet bodies come together in my cramped shower put a burning blush on my cheeks.
He chuckles softly. “Good to know,” he says, even though I haven’t said a word. Then he drops a kiss on my lips. “But we’ll save it for a time when we don’t have to worry about interruptions.”
I’m not sure what annoys me more, that I’m so transparent, or he’s the male version of a cocktease. Putting both hands against his nicely sculpted chest, I shove him aside and stalk toward the hallway to the bedrooms, followed by his chuckles.
“You know…” I stop in the doorway and turn my head to taunt him. “I’m starting to think you’re all talk and no play. Maybe you can’t deliver?”
Even from all the way across the room, I can feel the heat from his narrowed eyes as he slowly slides a hand down to cup his junk. Although, I’m not sure junk is the appropriate term for the enticing bulge in his jeans he drew my eyes to. The sight of his arousal sends a delicious tingle through my body, which is only enhanced by his deep, velvet voice.
“I can deliver, Beautiful. The anticipation only makes it sweeter when I do.”
JD
Everything comes to you in the right moment. Be patient.
Right.
I’m not sure where I read that, but I’m about done with patient. Trying to ignore the sound of the shower running, mental images of Janey naked in the shower, do little to calm the hunger in my blood.
At this point, I’m more inclined to go with carpe diem .
I’m already standing right outside the bathroom door when I hear Janey’s phone ring over the sound of running water. Abruptly the shower is turned off and I hear her voice as she answers the call. I quickly retrace my steps to the kitchen, and by the time I hear the bathroom door open, my head is stuck in her fridge. From the outside giving the appearance I’m looking for food, when really, I’m attempting to cool down the blood still running hot through my veins.
Patience .
Not that there’s any food in here anyway. A couple of beers, milk, a container of Greek yogurt, a limp stalk of celery, a questionable piece of cheese, and an assortment of condiments, but not much else. It’s close to dinnertime and I’m starving. I’m sure Janey must be as well. Neither of us had any lunch today. Depending on what that phone call was about, I’m thinking a quick takeout or even delivery may be the way to go.
“That was the sheriff,” Janey announces as she walks in, wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. Her hair is wrapped in a towel on top of her head, and her face is flushed from the shower. It’s not hard to imagine putting that color on her cheeks when I make her come. Hard .
“Yeah?” I manage, after clearing my throat.
“The Kalispell office is apparently sending a couple of agents straight here. We’ve been asked to stick around.”
I glance at the digital clock on the stove. It takes about an hour and a half to get here, so even if they leave immediately, I don’t see them arriving before eight, eight thirty at the earliest.
“I’ll have enough time to run into town and grab us some food. Your fridge is empty.”
“I know. It’s been so busy; I just haven’t had a chance to?—”
“Not a criticism,” I interrupt her, as I reach for a wet strand of hair that escaped her towel and tuck it behind her ear. “Just an observation. What do you feel like eating?”
She slowly shakes her head. “I’m too hungry to care. Something quick and easy; burger, pizza, whatever you feel like. I’m easy.”
“Ever tried a pizza from Cheesy Pies?”
“No. I’ve never even heard of that restaurant.”
“Cheesy Pies is another food truck. It’s usually parked beside the VFW club off California Avenue.”
She smirks. “You have a thing for food trucks, don’t you?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
The truth is, you can get some of the best grub at food trucks. They’re small businesses, often run by an individual or a family whose entire livelihood is dependent on that income. Their reputation is everything. They’re invested, cook with passion, and it shows in the food they serve.
“Sure, I enjoyed the last food truck you took me to.”
“Any preference for pizza?”
“I’m not big on anchovies, but other than that, I’m game for just about anything.”
“Their signature pie is topped with potato, onion, bratwurst, and beer cheese,” I describe my personal menu favorite.
Her eyes widen at the unusual list of toppings.
“That’s unique. Sure, I’m game, and while you’re picking up dinner, I’m going to run over to the clinic to check on Red and grab any messages.”
I put in a quick call to place my order so it’s ready when I get there. Then I turn to Janey and cup her face in my hands. I notice her nose has a faint sprinkling of freckles and her lashes are long and dark against the blue of her eyes.
“You know you’re way too tempting, right?”
“I didn’t, but now I do,” she replies in a soft voice, a faint smile on her lips.
My thumbs brush the downy skin of her cheeks. “I can’t wait to find out if your skin is this soft all over.”
She grabs my wrists with her hands and holds on. “There you go, teasing me again.”
For a moment, I stare into her eyes before dropping a hard kiss on her mouth. Then I release her and head for the door, before I find another way to spend the small window of time we have before the FBI gets here.
I’ve just turned left on the main road toward town, when my phone rings. It’s Una again, but this time I answer, remembering Janey’s advice on communication.
“Finally,” my sister says by way of greeting.
“Hello to you too,” I respond dryly.
“Well, you’ve been ignoring my calls and my messages for days,” she immediately accuses.
“And I may go back to ignoring them if you don’t have something constructive to say,” I warn her.
That shuts her up, but only for a moment. She quickly gets to the point of her call, looking for an ally.
“Ma is such a bitch, she?—”
“Una, if you’re calling me to gang up on Ma, you can save it. I don’t wanna hear. I’m done being put in the middle. If you have an issue with Ma, call her. If you wanna talk about why the hell you pulled that stunt last Saturday night, not only throwing me under the bus, but using Janey as a pawn in your little scheme, be my guest.”
“I didn’t use Janey as a pawn,” she fires back.
I note she doesn’t try to deny throwing me under the bus.
“Give it up,” I scold her. “You pushed me to invite her, knowing you were going to create family drama over dinner. I’m not sure what you were hoping to achieve by doing that, maybe a more moderate reaction from Ma? It obviously failed. And now you’re hoping I’ll listen to you whine about Ma some more?”
“I told you she’d never accept me being gay.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Una, you’re my sister and I love you, but that chip on your damn shoulder is so big, it’s impairing your sight. This has nothing to do with you being a lesbian and everything to do with you lying to our parents your entire adult life. Not only that, you forced me to lie as well. Ma is pissed because Ma is hurt, and I don’t blame her.”
I hear her scoff on the other side, but she doesn’t say anything, so I push on.
“And I’m hurt too, and pissed off. To put me in that position after covering your ass for all those years feels like a betrayal. So, forgive me if I’m not eager to hold your hand or be your go-between right now. Those days are over. Fix your own problems, talk to our mother, and then—maybe—try calling me again.”
With that I end the call, and despite my frustration with my sister, I’m feeling a weight has lifted by the time I pull up to the Cheesy Pies truck. I quickly collect my pizza order, tell them to throw in a couple of iced teas, and beeline it back. I’m uneasy leaving Janey alone for too long.
When I get to her place, I dig through the back seat of my truck to find something cleaner to wear than the clothes I have on now. I dig up a sports bag that must’ve been in there for a couple of months, since I haven’t been to the gym in at least that long. But at least it holds a pair of clean socks, a shirt, and some sweats that smell better than the jeans I have on. I didn’t realize how foul I reeked until the beautiful aroma from the pizza was overwhelmed by the smell of cow shit. No way I can eat smelling like this.
Using Janey’s bathroom—which is permeated by her scent—is the worst kind of torture. I briefly contemplate polishing one off in the shower, but decide against it. Instead, I turn the faucet to cold for a few minutes before I step out.
Janey is on her couch, her feet tucked under her as she’s watching the news on TV. The pizza and iced teas, along with a couple of plates and napkins, are waiting on the coffee table.
“Unless you want to sit at the table?” she asks when I walk in.
“Not particularly.”
I drop down beside her.
“You could’ve started without me,” I suggest.
“You weren’t that long,” she returns, reaching to flip open the pizza box.
My stomach rumbles loudly as she loads three pieces on a plate and hands it to me, before serving herself.
I was wrong; sitting next to Janey as she moans through her first tastes of a cheesy bratwurst pizza has to be the worst kind of torture by far .