Chapter 19
19
ALTA
B y the time Sarah pulled up the drive, I had zero energy left for our girls’ night. It took over three hours to clean the cabin to Cas’s expectations. Three. Hours. Now my lungs burned, my fingertips were raw, and my arm muscles twitched, but every inch of the cabin was spotless. Someone could do surgery in the living room and feel 100 percent sure the patient wouldn’t get an infection.
I loved the results and the time we spent together completing the project. Plus I had drawers full of clean clothes, which hadn’t happened since Mom did my laundry in high school. We cleaned in silence mostly, which was kind of perfect. It was a comfortable silence that two ordinary people had in a relationship.
Relationship.
Who the hell would’ve thought I would be so far in my recovery to use the word and mean it? He healed me in ways hours of therapy never had, just by being him. Maybe he was right; we were both broken in some way, but that just meant our broken pieces filled the cracks of the other. That was what he was doing.
“I know you said no wine,” Sarah announced with a grin as she walked through the door. Two paper grocery bags crinkled as they swayed on either side of her legs. “But—” She pulled up short when she looked over my shoulder into the living room. “What’s he doing here?” she whispered.
“It’s a long story,” I said as I snagged the bags to take them into the kitchen.
“You do understand a girls’ night means just girls, right? Hence the name,” Sarah whisper-shouted as she trailed behind me.
When I set them on the counter, the rattling of glass bottles clinked inside the brown bag. With an arched brow, I offered a pointed look at Sarah, then the bags and back again.
“I need it,” she said with a whine. “And you could use some relaxing juice too. You just took away the vaginas-only part of girls’ night. Don’t take away the required liquids too.”
All apprehension of the evening turned to guilt. I needed to try; after all, she was, despite my quirks.
“Fine, but I hope you brought a bottle opener because I don’t have one.”
“Is he going to be here all night?” she whispered as she withdrew a bottle of red from the bag. “I don’t mind the eye candy, but it’s rude to flaunt what I can’t touch.”
I chuckled under my breath and glanced to Cas on the couch, busy on his phone. “Yeah, something happened today, and I need him to stick around for a bit.”
“It’s all around the station about John suspending you. Is that what you’re talking about?”
“No,” I grumbled. Great, nothing like being the topic of the office gossip.
“Oh, you mean the confrontation between you and Sadie? You know, I heard she said that you said some pretty mean things to her,” Sarah furrowed her fair brows in concentration as she twisted the cap to the wine, sending a familiar crackle to my ears as the seal broke.
Huh. Who knew they made screw tops.
I stared at the bottle in wonder until Sarah’s words sank in.
“What?” I exclaimed. “She was the one being all creepy. I didn’t say anything to her.”
“She’s creepy for sure.” Sarah looked back to Cas and leaned across the countertop, bringing us closer. “I’d stay away from her. She seems a bit… unstable. The other rangers have been talking about it, and someone said she's a little obsessive with John.”
My stomach dipped. “Obsessive how?”
One of Sarah’s shoulders rose in a half shrug. “Being up there all the time, coming up with stuff to make him think he needs to protect her. Like today, she said you were aggressive toward her when she stopped you. Wacky.”
“Wacky,” I mused. “She was the one who found the note.”
“What note?” The paper bag crinkled as she dug around the bottom with her head practically inside it.
“Nothing.”
“Well I got a random note today. Maybe she put something on my car since we’re friends. But it wasn’t anything mean, more like a love note. Maybe I should tell her I’m not her type?” With a smile, she leaned back with a package of Oreos clutched in her hand.
“A love note?” Cas said from the couch.
“How in the hell did you hear that?” Sarah’s eyes twitched toward the ceiling. Turning to face him, she leaned back against the counter on her elbows.
“What did it look like?” I inched around the counter.
“You know, like a love note. It said something about having so much fun. I don’t know. I tossed it, thinking it was from the guy I fucked last night.” She shuddered. “Way too clingy for having such a small dick.”
“We need more details,” Cas interjected.
Sarah cringed. “Okay. Well, I swear it was only three inches?—”
“Not his dick,” Cas grumbled into the hand covering his face. When it slipped down, I couldn’t help but giggle. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere other than here hearing about some guy’s small penis. “The note. What did it look like?”
Her shoulders visibly relaxed. “Oh good, because I felt bad talking about it, you know. I mean, it's not like he could help being so small.”
Cas turned and walked to the living room, his frustration clear.
“Fine, the note, got it. Okay, so it was like an old-school valentine of sorts, like you’d give in grade school. Why does this matter? Is that like the one Sadie put on your car?” Sarah’s eyes flicked from me to Cas and back again. Watching me, she tilted her head. “What's wrong, Birdie? You look paler than normal.”
Of course I was pale, I couldn’t breathe.
What was this guy doing targeting Sarah and me? Neither of us were his usual target, so did that mean Sadie was the one who put the notes on our cars? Maybe this had nothing to do with the serial abductor, but how would Sadie know about the type of notes that were left for the victims?
“I’m so confused.” I paced between the kitchen and living room. “We need to call Chandler and John. Maybe John mentioned something to Sadie about the note, and she’s just playing mind games. We need to ask him.”
“What the hell is going on?” Sarah demanded, her tone high-pitched. “You’re freaking me out.”
Cas held out a hand, silencing us both as he pressed a phone to his ear. “Peters. Mathews. Come down to Alta’s. We have some new information. Call that dipshit John too. We need to ask him a few questions.”
“Worst girls’ night ever,” Sarah sighed and looked to the ceiling. “Just saying, we need a redo.”
“If we’re still around,” I murmured.
“What does that mean?”
I glanced to Cas, whose forehead seemed to have a permanent worry line stretched across it.
“It means we both better hope Sadie is as crazy as we think, or those notes could be our death sentence.”
“You sure you don’t want to come to Denver with me?” Sarah asked as she tugged on her coat by the door. “I’m sure my friend wouldn’t mind another person crashing on her couch.”
Gripping the doorknob, I shook my head before twisting it and swinging the door open, allowing a blast of cold night air to sweep inside. “I’ll be fine. I wish you’d let one of the guys go with you to pack your stuff.”
She waved a hand between us, dismissing my worry. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Just watch yourself, okay? It’d suck to come back to town and find out you’re missing too.”
“Thanks?”
“Be safe,” she yelled over her shoulder as she hurried to her car. She climbed in, started the engine and drove off into the night.
“She’ll be fine,” Cas said at my back. “Something tells me she’s one of those people who could survive anything.”
I nodded in agreement. After the door shut, I locked each deadbolt three times and leaned my head against the warm wood. The last hour was more draining than the earlier cleaning extravaganza. No one knew what to think of Sarah also getting a note. John had stormed out when we accused Sadie of writing the notes, not the serial abductor. He swore on his life that he hadn’t mentioned it, considering that would be discussing an active investigation, which he’d never do.
I believed him.
Which left us where?
Here. Confused, dead ends all over the place, and a hot, brooding male as my new roommate until we figured it out.
That last part wasn’t so bad.
“We’ll figure it out,” Cas said from several feet behind me.
Turning, I leaned against the door and tried to press the back of my head against it, but my ponytail stopped me. With an annoyed sigh, I pulled the hair tie out, raked my fingers through my long hair to ease the ache in my scalp, and leaned my head back with a thump.
“It's been days since you and Chandler arrived. Two missing women here, plus all those in Tennessee, and we’re no closer to catching this guy. I feel anxious, like we’re just waiting for him to take someone else. And after tonight, I’m afraid it might be one of my friends.” Opening my eyes, I found his gaze focused on the door right above my shoulder. “What?”
His head shook like he was trying to rid himself of a thought. “I’m taking a shower. Keep the doors locked?—”
“Duh.”
His eyes narrowed. “Stay armed.” He turned to face Benny. “Auf Wache,” Cas commanded and pointed to the door. Benny trotted to the front door, sat his furry backside on the floor and stared forward.
I gaped at him. “How did?—”
“Guy in my unit, remember? We need to figure out dinner. I’m fucking starving.”
“I have a near-lifetime supply of ramen noodles in the pantry.”
He gave an uncharacteristic nose crinkle in disgust. “Had my fill of that shit in the marines. Anything else?”
My hair swished across my upper back as I shook my head.
“Fine, we’re going out. You want to shower first, then?”
“Is that a hint?”
A feral smile climbed up his cheeks, sending my heart racing. “That’s an ‘I’d prefer you to be clean when I eat you for dessert later.’”
“Oh.” Heat filled my cheeks, threatening to leave actual burns. “Um, that sounds… good.”
Cas’s deep rumbling laugh filled the cabin, making Benny turn to see what was going on. “You’re so fucking innocent. I can’t wait to ruin that. Go shower before I strip your clothes off right now to see how far down that blush of yours goes.”
Keeping my back to the wall, then the counter all the way around the kitchen, I eased across the room, never dropping his hungry gaze. Inside the bathroom, I focused on the lock for a few seconds before turning and flipping the hot water on. The potential for sex was the ultimate motivator, it seemed. Who knew the hope of him walking in on me in the shower to fulfill his promise now instead of later would be what I needed not to lock a door.
Eyes closed, I fantasized that each soapy swipe of my hands up and down my torso, over my breasts, between my legs was his instead of my own. At the heat boiling beneath my skin and the nearly scalding water, sweat beaded along my forehead and beneath my arms. I had to stop thinking about him if I ever expected to get clean.
Propping my foot along the edge of the tub caused delicious friction between my thighs, causing a louder-than-expected whimper to pour out.
“Everything okay in there?” Cas asked on the other side of the door.
More than you know.
“Yeah, almost done. Trying to hurry to not use all the hot water.”
“We could always save water and shower together.”
Mouth gaping, I stared at the plastic shower curtain, half expecting it to rip aside. Fantasizing about him in here with me was one thing, but it actually happening was another. I mean, I’d just had my first kiss in ten years. Things needed to slow down, or my fear of having a panic attack in front of him would become a reality.
“I’ll be done in a minute,” I said breathily. Hopefully he couldn’t hear that part.
A deep chuckle sounded on the other side of the door. “Okay, Lady.”
With a sigh of relief, I went back to scrubbing my leg. My hairy leg.
Fuck.
I hadn’t shaved since shorts season, which was last month. Or maybe the month before? In a panic, I hastily searched through the products crammed into the corners of the tub for shaving cream. Relief washed over when I picked up the near-full bottle; seemed I didn’t use it that much, even during shorts season. My gaze traveled from the bottle clutched in my hands to the very, very, very unkempt patch of hair just below my belly.
Under my terrified stare, the puff of blonde, coarse hair seemed to fluff and grow.
Again I whimpered, but that time for an entirely different reason.
I needed a pair of hedge clippers, or maybe a lawnmower. At least a pair of scissors, which, of course, were hidden under the spare pillow in my bedroom.
“What do I do? What do I do?” I whispered into the warm stream of water.
One problem at a time. That always helped calm the rising panic in the past.
Armpits.
Legs.
Crotch.
I’d tackle one hairy mess at a time. With a quick prayer that the razor blade was sharp enough to undertake this challenge, I squirted a dollop of shaving cream into my hand and lifted my arm to start on step one.