Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Her heart pumped hard as Summer punched in Joe’s number.
“Walker,” he said, bringing her out of her mindless panic like no one else ever had.
He sounded sleepy. He sounded…warm and rumpled, and damn, she missed him. She missed him so much. “It’s just me.”
“A bad dream?”
She didn’t question how he knew something was wrong, it was the middle of the night. But even if it hadn’t been, he’d have known because he’d pretty much always been that tuned in to her. “I have a problem.”
“Define problem.”
No longer sounding sleepy, he spoke in his fire marshal–calm, alert voice. She knew his eyes would be flat and unreadable. “I received a new text.” She read it to him.
“Where are you?”
Damn, she’d known he’d ask. “Don’t get mad.”
“Red—”
“I’m at the cottage.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Oh, no. Don’t drive. I’m sorry, I didn’t think—I should have called Kenny. I just got spooked. Anyway, it can wait until morning—”
“Red.”
She gulped in a breath. “Yeah?”
“Lock your doors.”
“I did.”
“Keep your blinds shut.”
Oh, God. “They are.”
“Keep breathing, I’m already in my car.”
“But you shouldn’t drive.”
“Too late.”
“You have a clutch.”
“Yeah.” His voice was tight now, probably with pain. “I’ll be fine.”
Indeed she could hear the engine roar to life. She realized she was rubbing her chest where it had pulled tight like a fist.
“I’m sure I’m just fine,” she said.
“I’m sure you are, too, though we’re going to talk about why you’re there alone.” There was a slight edge to his fire marshal cool now. Temper, though not aimed at her. Okay, maybe some aimed at her.
“Where are you with the books?” he asked.
He was trying to keep her calm. Distracted. “Not far enough. I brought the stuff with me.”
“How long until you have a list of everyone who made a deposit with missing cash?”
“Maybe never,” she admitted. “I’m discovering that there’s often no way to tell who made what deposit, and on the days everyone was at work…”
“You can’t even guess.”
“No. Because everyone goes to the bank, it just depends on who feels like it.”
He was silent a long moment. Thinking. God knew about what.
She voiced her fear. “I’m thinking I hit a nerve with someone.”
“You certainly have a knack for it. Were you sleeping when the text came in tonight?”
“Dreaming,” she said. “Joe—”
“Yeah?”
I missed you. I miss you so damn much. “Nothing.”
“Jesus, Red. Just say what you’re thinking. It can’t be that hard to level with me.”
It never had been, but now there were new and fairly terrifying feelings on the line, and she hadn’t exactly dealt with them.
“Let me cut you a break since I figure you could use one,” he said quietly. “I miss you. Is that anywhere in the ballpark of what you wanted to say?”
“You always could read my mind,” she said shakily.
“I miss your smile,” he said quietly. “I miss your laugh. I miss the way you make me laugh. I miss you teasing me, making sure I don’t take myself too seriously. And I miss having you touch me at night. I really miss that.”
“You have all the words,” she whispered, her throat tight. “I don’t know how you come up with such things.”
“Just open your mouth and let it roll out.”
“I’m not sure where to start.”
“You could have called the police. You could have called Kenny. Or anyone. But you called me. There’s a reason for that, Red.”
“I wanted you.” The words were on her tongue and out her mouth before she realized it. “I got scared and you were the only person I wanted. I miss you too. Thanks for doing this, coming out here in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t thank me, I haven’t yelled at you for being alone yet. There’s a bunch of no-parking signs posted on your street.”
“They’re going to repave or something.”
“I’m walking in from around the corner. Or hopping rather.”
She hurried to let him in from the night.
He wore a black T-shirt draped over his gun and soft, faded Levi’s that were molded to his long, tough form, hunched slightly these days as he used the crutches to walk.
There was a Lakers cap on his head and a deceptively relaxed air to him as he moved toward her.
He held out his hand. She put the phone in it.
Wordlessly he shifted gears and looked at the display.
His jaw was scruffy, unshaven, and she stared at it while he read the text.
She remembered all the nights he’d rubbed that sexy stubble against her body, remembering the things he’d said to her, done to her, the way he’d made her feel.
“I really did miss you,” she whispered softly.
He looked at her for a beat. “I’m going to call this in.” He hobbled into the kitchen, murmured into the phone for a few minutes, then hung up and faced her. “We’ll go to the station in the morning to make a report. Do you have the accounting stuff you’ve been working through?”
“On the table.”
“Let’s look.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“Let’s look,” he repeated stubbornly.
They spent an hour at it, Summer showing him how she’d put the deposit slips in date order and had painstakingly matched each to the bank statements.
They typically made a deposit every day, sometimes every other.
In the past twelve months, cash had gone missing out of approximately one deposit a week, the amounts varying from three hundred and fifty dollars to two thousand dollars, for a total of thirty-six thousand four hundred dollars.
Just for the past year.
“Multiply that by all the years they’ve been in business…” Joe let out a low whistle. “Someone’s been getting a nice bonus. Let me see the employee schedule.”
She handed it over, but that was a problem too.
There wasn’t, and never had been, a regular schedule.
Tina and her mother kept it in their heads, changing plans on a whim to accommodate all of them.
And even if a schedule had been kept, it couldn’t be relied on because of how often it would have been adjusted at the last minute.
So they went through the payroll records, through each individual time sheet, and began a new list, writing down the employees that had worked each day there’d been cash missing.
It took a few hours, and when they were done, they had a new problem.
“Not a single person worked each of these dates,” Summer said.
“Except…” Joe looked at her, his face impassive. His fire marshal expression.
“My mother and Tina.” She called her mom and got sent to voicemail. She called her aunt next and got a sleepy-sounding Bill.
“I’m sorry,” Summer said. “I know it’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. But these accounting books have been calling my name all night. Are my mom and your wife boozing in the hot tub again?”
“No, sorry, Camille’s not here.”
Summer had forgotten. Her mother had taken the leap. “How about Tina? Can I talk to her?”
“What’s up, Cookie? Because I hate to wake her. She’s been having such trouble sleeping.”
“I know.” Summer chewed on her thumbnail. “Listen, I wish I already knew this because it makes me sound like a horrible niece and daughter for having to ask, but…”
“What?”
“Neither of them are in financial trouble, are they?”
Bill laughed. “Those two penny-pinchers? Are you kidding?”
When Summer didn’t laugh, he got serious. “Okay, what’s the matter? What did you find?”
“Nothing concrete,” she said, suddenly deciding this would be better done in person. “Tell Tina I’ll meet her at the store in a few hours.” She disconnected and sighed.
Joe was still sifting through the papers. “Let’s keep going.”
Half an hour later, with the sun coming up, Summer’s cell beeped. Startled, she stared at Joe for a long breath, then looked at the message.
Stop remembering. LEAVE. This is your final warning.
Joe stared down at the digital display. “How spooked are you?”
“Uh…” On a scale of one to ten, make that a twelve, please. “Not too much.”
“Truth.”
“Truth?” She dropped her head to the table with a thunk. “I think my mother is covering for Tina. I think Tina is covering for my mother. And that it could be either one of them makes me want to throw up.”
He put his hand on her back and stroked. “Your polite but terrifying stalker is trying to scare you out of here because you know something.”
“I don’t remember any more than what I’ve said.”
“They’re not sure of that.”
“I’m not afraid of anyone here.” She wasn’t. Her terror was bigger than that. Such as the reality of seeing someone she cared about go to prison. “Much.”
Joe sighed, then gathered her close. “Do you want me to stay?”
Being held by him was like coming home again. Shockingly good, shockingly right. “Yes, but it has nothing to do with being scared.” She pressed her face to his throat and inhaled his scent.
“Red.” This was a low groan. He let out another when she licked him.
“Don’t.” His arms tightened on her in direct opposition to his words.
“God, don’t. I can’t resist you. It’s like every bad diet out there, I’m good for a day or two and then I have this terrible, clawing craving that I can’t escape from. ”
“So let’s satisfy the craving.”
“I can’t do this, Red. I can’t make love to you and then get out of your bed and go home to my cold one. I hate connecting with you like I do, and then waking alone.”
“Then don’t go home. Wake up here, with me.”
He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her head back so he could see her face. His eyes were dark, his body tense.
“Don’t go home tonight,” she said again. “This morning. Whatever it is. Stay with me.”
He cupped her jaw, ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Why?”
Leap. If her mother had done it, she sure as hell could at least try. “Maybe I want to try it on for size.”
“Try what?”
“You.” She smiled shakily. “Look, probably you’ve already realized, I’m a little slow at this stuff.”
“No,” he said wryly. “Really?”
She rolled her eyes. “I want you to be happy. I want to be the one to make you happy, but I have to go at my own pace, I just do. I can’t speed that up, Joe. Not even for you.”