Chapter 14
Heather woke to a strange sound near her ear. She kept her eyes closed and willed herself to remain still while she identified the threat. Snoring she realized, feeling silly. A ripple of satisfaction rolled through her and she snuggled closer to Dale’s warm body.
But she couldn’t get back to sleep. Carefully, she slipped from the bed, stifling a groan when she spotted the clock. Here was the downside of being an incurable early riser. Might as well do something useful.
As the sun peeked over the horizon, Heather closed the curtains over the balcony so Dale could sleep in. Wrapping herself in one of the hotel robes, she searched the room by the light of her cell phone. Finding her bag, she removed her tablet and her camera, setting up on the table in the front room. She checked the messages on her phone while the other devices warmed up and started connecting.
Thank God she’d turned off her phone. Her brother had sent her countless messages in the past few hours, demanding answers she wasn’t ready to give. She glanced back toward the bedroom, knowing the most honest answers would push her brother into protective mode. Which was only one more reason not to give him any.
She did send the text message about the case, then decided to ignore further personal inquiries. She scrolled further through her notifications, wincing when she saw the text message from her mother.
It was the one message she answered, assuring her mother she was fine and would tell her the entire romantic story when she and Dale were home from their weekend.
She sighed at the reminder that whatever happened between her and Dale was temporary. Which was a shame, because they had some serious chemistry between the sheets… and everywhere else, if only he was open to it.
Not now, she thought, turning to the task of reviewing pictures, putting those with clear faces in one folder and discarding other, less helpful shots into a secondary folder. Despite her best efforts, her mind meandered through everything she’d experienced since Friday morning and it all came down to the man snoring quietly in the bedroom.
Dale’s surprising acting ability when he’d asked her out. The compassion he’d shown at the shelter and later after the dogfights. His unexpected defense of her. The comfort. His stunning lovemaking.
She wandered to the bedroom door and just stared at him for a moment. Why did this have to be temporary? He shifted in the bed, the covers sliding away and revealing his wounded leg. She knew it bothered him and yet she’d never consider it a deficit.
His leg was stronger than he realized, in her opinion. If the scar tissue went deep, the lack of feeling might be giving him the impression of weakness. It had happened to her, on a smaller scale, as her hand healed and there had been more than a little concern about permanent nerve damage. For years she’d had to tell herself she could hold onto objects when she couldn’t feel them completely.
Dale’s leg might have troubled him out in the park last night but he hadn’t let it stop him from getting the job done. How could she help him see that? Was it even her place to try?
From her point of view, the leg was in perfect working order. She fanned herself a little, recalling the feel of his body loving hers. She considered his scar a stamp of his courage and determination, knowing he would scoff at the idea.
Of course, she wasn’t the one living with it. Making a mental note to tell him about the sensations she’d experienced with her hand, she returned to the photos.
She had clean shots of the men who’d set up the rings and unloaded the dogs. The next series, about two dozen shots of dogs, startled her. She hadn’t remembered taking so many, but she zoomed in and brightened shadows for a better look at any identifying marks on each animal.
While they’d been in the perfect place to get faces, they hadn’t chosen a great position to record license plates. A fact she regretted now. Well, what they had would have to be good enough.
She soon had faces sorted further by men and women, those who’d arrived together, and Lester’s crew. The shots of the fights made her stomach roll, but she collected them, knowing she wouldn’t have survived any of this without the buffer of her camera and the man who’d taken her allegations seriously.
“Come up with anything?”
Startled, she looked up at the sound of his gravelly voice, heavy with sleep. She blinked rapidly to focus on him rather than the glare of the computer screen.
“I’m making progress, but I can’t be sure it helps.”
He sat up on the edge of the bed, stretching his arms over his head before leaning forward to rest elbows on knees. “I’m sure it helps.”
He seemed far too confident in her ability and too comfortable in the moment. Her lingering satisfaction faded now that they faced each other for the purpose of the mission again. “You haven’t even seen any pictures. Maybe I left the lens cap on.”
“Not your style.”
Now he knew her “style”. Had they slipped into an alternate reality? The sex had certainly been earth-shattering, but still…
“What’s wrong?”
“Not a thing,” she replied, watching him leave the bed and walk to the bathroom. He appeared oblivious to the way his strong and cut body affected her. Heat flooded her body in response to the priceless view. However things went from here, it was a vision she intended to remember forever.
Shaking her head, she resumed her work. She’d reached the series of pictures she’d taken after Dale shot out the tire of the last car to arrive at the fights.
She sucked in a breath, saved the closeup, and with shaking legs backed away from the table.
In the chaos that followed, Bingham had emerged a half step ahead of Lester. The leader of the pack had been there after all. Dale would be thrilled. She opened the next photos and her stomach dropped. Following Lester was another man holding two leashes with aggressive, alert Dobermans at the other end. Those could very well be the dogs who’d killed Terry.
Heather clapped a hand to her mouth and paced to the balcony doors, unable to escape the fear chasing her. It looked like Bingham was in just as deep as Dale suspected. It wasn’t her job to figure out the next step, but still she ran through the likely options.
Bingham in the car with Lester could be explained. She imagined all too easily how a highly-placed, well-connected FBI agent would respond.
Her heart sank for Dale. There didn’t seem to be much to imply Bingham wasn’t a major part of the problem. She imagined it would be relatively easy for the local head of the FBI to throw his weight around on Lester’s behalf.
Why? What would make a man who’d pledged his life to uphold the law change sides?
Heather wasn’t sure she cared, beyond Dale’s reaction. The man was up to his eyeballs in the dogfighting operation and she wanted to see them all behind bars.
Suddenly chilled, Heather cinched the robe tightly at her waist. She breathed deep, staring out over the ocean, watching the sunlight dance across the water. Feeling like a small, insignificant cog in the world’s giant wheel, she felt the tension in her shoulders ease just a fraction. Dale was right. She’d done her part, breaking a closed system, going beyond that and finding a fight, and recording it.
The rest of it was up to Dale and she trusted him to handle the case effectively. She trusted him with more than the case and with more than a quick roll in the sheets. Somewhere between that cold beach morning on Hilton Head Island when she’d handed over everything she’d found and today, she’d fallen in love with him.
Stupid.
Crushing on the man was one thing. Loving him? Oh, that was a big mistake destined to end badly for her. No one ever accused her of doing the wise thing. She scowled out at the ocean. Most of the time, people pegged her as doing the frivolous thing. This time they were right, she thought.
“Walk a mile in my shoes,” she muttered. It hadn’t been as easy as people assumed, following in the tall shadows of her siblings and the lingering community grief over her father’s premature death.
“Your shoes are too small for me.”
She turned, putting her back to the ocean, and planting a friendly smile on her face, masking the emotional roller coaster her heart was riding.
He looked ready for action in his dark, close-fitted long-sleeve T-shirt and his black cargo pants. His feet were bare, his hair damp from the shower, and his skin scented with the crisp citrus soap provided by the hotel. The same soap they’d used last night when they’d washed away the stench of Lester’s operation.
She suffered a brief debate on which topic to bring up: the case or their amazing sex-capades. Deciding anything else would come off sounding clingy, she opted for the case. “I finished sorting through the pictures. Combined with the microchips from the dogs—”
“Nice job on that one, by the way. Meant to say that earlier.”
“Thanks.” His praise warmed her. “It was a spur of the moment decision.”
“And it’s another connection that ties Lester’s crew to both Terry’s murder and the dogfighting.”
She nodded again, appreciating how he used Terry’s name. “You should see the pictures. I’ve sorted them into files for you.”
“Great. I’ll take a look in a minute.” He stepped closer, crowding her against the wall of the balcony. “Did you sleep at all? It sounds like you’ve put in a full day’s work already.”
“I slept.” A little. Did her welfare really matter to him? She knew better than to read anything into his concern. He was just one of the good guys.
“All right.” His hands rested gently at her waist and her imagination spun a sweet little scenario of a morning kiss becoming much more involved. That couldn’t possibly come true, she thought, bursting her own bubble before Dale could.
“You could take a nap while I put things together.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m used to all kinds of weird hours.”
“Heather you’ve—”
It was there in the tone. An apology, a warning about emotional ties. She covered his hands with hers, just for a moment, then stepped away, scooting toward the room and away from him. “I’ll grab a shower while you decide what to do with the evidence.”
“Hang on for a second.”
She stopped, and not just because he held her hand with such gentle force. He reached up, pushing her hair behind her ear, letting the strands sift through his fingers. Deep inside, where she hoped he couldn’t feel it, she trembled, hoping he wouldn’t say the wrong thing. Hoping even more that he wouldn’t say the right thing.
“About last night.” He looked down at their joined hands. “It was more than I expected.”
What the hell did that mean? “Is that good?” she asked when he didn’t elaborate.
“Yes.”
She heard the “but” loud and clear. It was only a matter of time.
“I think it’s for the best if we remember why we’re out here this weekend.”
“The case?”
“Yes.” The relief on his face told the story.
Well, she wasn’t the one bringing up the sex, was she? “Don’t worry about it, Dale. I enjoyed every minute with you, but I’m not expecting anything.” It was the truth. He didn’t need to know how much it cost her to say it.
“Maybe I’m worried about me.”
The unexpected admission threw her off. Wanting to ask any of the questions racing through her mind, she felt her smile falter and watched a wave of doubt ripple across his stoic features. Giving his hand a squeeze, she hurried to reassure him. “I can’t imagine why. You gave an above average performance.”
“Above average?” His eyebrows dipped low as he absorbed that verbal blow. “What happened to soul-shattering?”
“Ah-ha! You’re just fishing for more compliments this morning,” she teased, desperate to lighten what had become a heavy mood.
“No. Not really.” His own lips curved upward, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s—”
“Please.” She shivered, blaming the reaction on a cool breeze that skirted under her robe. “I’m a big girl. We’re consenting adults. There’s no reason to review or develop any ground rules.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.” She walked away before she did something stupid and confessed feelings that had to be temporary. Feelings that surely resulted from that heady mix of stress, lust, and admiration. Feelings that couldn’t possibly be rooted in something strong and real.
She and Dale were a temporary situation. She tried to tell herself it was for the best.