Chapter Fifty-Eight
AJ
I stop outside the station door. The last time I crossed the threshold, Grace was nothing but a ghost I couldn’t stop chasing.
Now she’s back in my arms at night. Sharing her coffee with me in the morning.
Laughing, healing. And somehow, that makes the ground under me shake harder than when she was gone.
Losing her once damn near killed us both. I won’t lose her again. I can’t.
Parker joins me, her hands shoved in her jacket pockets. “You fixin’ to stand out here all day? Or are we doing this?” she asks.
“We’re doing this. Not much choice, I reckon.”
I hold the door open for her, my jaw clenched. Feels like I’m walking into a fight I ain’t ready for, though I don’t know why.
The scuffed linoleum floors, the mix of burnt coffee, sweat, and gun oil hanging in the air, the low hum of conversation punctuated by ringing phones…it’s all the same. I’m the one who’s different.
Harris is waiting for me—for us. “Lieutenant Elmore, you’re on desk duty until I say otherwise. Stone? My office. Now.”
“Mornin’ to you too, Chief,” I mutter, too low for him to hear, as Parker stalks over to her desk.
He’s already back in his chair when I shut the door, his cheeks red and splotchy.
“The lab came up empty on the dress. Marvin was spinnin’ his wheels all week tryin’ to find out how your wife got to the trail.
Your story’s fishier than week-old gas station sushi, and I ain’t buyin’ it.
Bring Grace in so Marvin and I can question her. ”
“No.” I cross my arms and widen my stance. “She’s not a suspect. She’s a victim. A goddamn survivor. And she’s already told you everything she knows. And I recall you promisin’ me you wouldn’t let Marvin anywhere near her.”
His cheeks get redder, and he sputters, “Th-that ain’t a request, Stone.”
“Two weeks ago, we thought harassing victims was a bad thing. We change our policy while I was out?”
I don’t wait for him to answer. “You want to drag her in here, sit her in an interrogation room, and grill her like she’s done somethin’ wrong?
Try to get her to break? She won’t. She’s tougher than anyone in this fucking building.
But she’s tryin’ to heal. And I’ll be damned if I let you interrupt that process because Marvin can’t track down a clue to save his life. ”
Harris’s jaw flexes, but he doesn’t fire back right away. For a second—maybe two—I almost think he’s gonna agree with me.
“You think everything is about her,” he snaps.
“It ain’t. It’s about a case with no leads, no evidence, and a whole goddamn town breathin’ down my neck.
You don’t get to pick and choose what parts of her story are useful.
That’s my job. She can heal and answer my questions.
Stop lettin’ your personal life interfere with the job. ”
I drop my voice, forcing control I don’t feel into my tone. “She ain’t steppin’ one foot into this station unless she wants to. You try and force her? You’ll have to go through me.”
Harris slams his hand down on his desk. “Get out of my office, Stone. Before I forget how much rope I’ve already given you.”
Shoving at the door, I stalk out, my pulse hammering so hard, I can feel it in my temples.
The bullpen quiets as I cut through, my fellow Rangers watching me with everything from respect to pity. I have my office in sight when Marvin swoops in like a goddamn vulture, his signature smirk plastered across his smug face.
“Guessin’ that didn’t go so well,” he drawls. “Can’t blame you, though. If I had a woman like Grace, I wouldn’t want her put through the wringer. You’re doin’ the right thing—keeping her close. Protecting what’s yours.”
The way he says the words—like Grace is a possession or some prize to be hoarded—rubs me raw.
“Get out of my sight, Marvin. Or Parker won’t be the only one with a suspension on her record.” I clench my right hand into a fist, raising it just enough he gets the hint and double-times it back to his desk.
I slam the door and put my back to it. How the hell am I supposed to protect and serve the people of Texas when all I can think about is Grace and the assholes who tried to use her as a human sacrifice?
Fuck.
Shedding my jacket, I force a couple of deep breaths. For almost twenty years, this was all I wanted to do with my life. Move up through the ranks, eventually replace Harris when he retires, and have a chance to do some real good. Now…I’m not so sure.
By the time lunch rolls around, my eyes are burning from all the paperwork Harris sent my way the past two weeks. Jasper’s been texting every hour—thank God—or I’d have called Grace a dozen times by now, and probably gotten my ass handed to me for it.
But the second I’m outside the station, I reach for my phone.
She picks up on the second ring. “AJ.” The gentle warmth in her voice raises a lump in my throat. God, I needed to hear her say my name.
“Just checkin’ in. Jas said everything was fine, but…”
“It is. Connor’s in the kitchen making jalapeno poppers, and Jasper’s trying to teach me how to play poker. Apparently, I used to be good at it?”
“You were a card shark, darlin’. Couple times a month, we’d host poker night, and you almost always came out on top.”
“Well, that explains why he’s already lost twenty dollars,” she says.
That pulls a laugh out of me, though it’s rough around the edges. “If he’s got a single cent left by the end of the week, maybe we can have folks over on Saturday.”
“I’d like that.” A door closes softly, and she sighs. “It’s strange being here without you. The only memories I have of this house…are with you.”
Her words tear through me, ripping open a wound I’m not sure how to heal. She should have those memories. God, she should. Weeknights with friends, lazy mornings with Belle, quiet moments that belong only to her.
“You deserve to make our home yours in every way, Grace. With me and without me. Just…” I swallow hard, desperate to soften the rough edge to my voice. “Don’t ask me to like the idea of you bein’ there all alone.”
“I won’t.” Her voice trembles. “And I’m not ready for that either. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
Damn if I don’t want to floor it all the way back to the lake, wrap her in my arms, and tell her she’ll never be alone again. But even if I could, that’s not what she needs.
“You will be, darlin’. Once the bastards who took you are gone, you’ll find your footing again. I promise.”
“I hope so.” A hint of warmth returns to her tone, along with an undercurrent of longing. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me too. I like hearin’ your voice.”
We linger for a little longer before I let her go with a promise that I’ll come home safe.
Twenty minutes later, I slide into a booth at a run-down diner a few blocks from the train station—the kind where the servers don’t care who you are or what your business is, as long as you tip well.
Parker has jammed herself in the corner, a plate of greasy fries untouched in front of her as she sucks down half a milkshake in under a minute.
Hardison sits across from her, looking on in shock. “And you’re chasing that with grease. This isn’t how superheroes get origin stories, y’know.”
“Sure it is,” Parker deadpans. “Mere mortals would have died of brain freeze by now.”
Despite the jokes flying between the two of them, obvious rage simmers just under Parker’s skin. “How long is the chief keeping you chained to your desk?”
She drags a fry through a mountain of ketchup. “Until I’ve ‘learned my lesson.’ He says it’s ‘for my own good.’ It’s bullshit. I rearranged his jaw, and he’s never gonna let me forget it.”
“He can’t keep you caged forever. You’re too good at your job,” I say and signal the server to bring me a cup of coffee.
Parker snorts. “Wanna bet?” Another quarter of the milkshake disappears in under five seconds. “I punched him. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat to protect Grace. But my career’s fucked. Once we find the assholes who took her, I’m out.”
“No,” I say, a little too loudly, startling the server enough, a splash of coffee hits the table before she can set my mug down. Once she rushes off, I narrow my eyes at Parker. “I’m not losing you because the chief’s a fucking asshole. If you go, I’m out too.”
Hardison flops back against the cracked vinyl booth. “So the two of you are just gonna abandon me to suffer Harris’s mood swings alone? A sad sack just weeping into all the paperwork I can’t dump on Parker’s desk anymore?”
“No one’s leaving.” I give the coffee a sniff.
Motor oil would probably be healthier. “Not while Grace is still in danger. Zephyr’s still workin’ the cult angle.
I think the three of us should go back to the beginning.
We know why the cult targeted Grace. What we don’t know is how.
There have to be hundreds of women in Texas with oleander tattoos. ”
“But there can’t be very many who also have a full moon inked on their arm,” Parker says.
“You aren’t seriously suggesting we call every tattoo parlor in Texas, are you?” Hardison asks. “Unlike my favorite MMA fighter, Lieutenant Loose Cannon, and Captain AWOL—aka Captain Clusterfuck—I have a full case load. I’m holding shit together with duct tape and caffeine.”
“I’ll be sure to put that on your promotion paperwork,” I say, suddenly so tired, I try a sip of the sludge this place passes off as coffee.
Parker finally abandons her milkshake long enough to level a gaze at both of us. “Can we stop with the one-liners and try to figure out who put a target on Grace’s back in the first place?”
I glance at my watch. “If we don’t get back to the station, Harris is gonna have all our asses in the same damn sling.
Hardison, you’ve gotta stay on the chief’s good side.
Work your cases and keep an eye on Marvin.
He’s rubbin’ me the wrong way and I don’t know why.
Parker? Look for any unsolved kidnapping cases where the victims had tattoos. Especially flowers or full moons.”
“What does that leave for you, Cap?” Hardison asks.
“I’m gonna talk to everyone who was in Grace’s life three years ago. And hope to God she remembers something that might help.”
Standing, I throw a twenty on the table, and Parker slides out of the booth after me. Hardison gets to his feet, glances at the remains of the milkshake, and makes the sign of the cross. “Rest in peace, double-chocolate with extra whip. Your sacrifice won’t be forgotten.”