Chapter Fifteen #2
“Good morning.” Skylar’s voice was husky with sleep. The dogs ran to her, sat at her feet, and she pet them both.
Rawley turned to see her framed in the kitchen doorway, hair tousled, wearing an oversized T-shirt that hung past her hips.
“Good morning. Take a seat, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”
She nodded the wooden chair scraping against tile as she pulled it out and settled onto it.
“Are you alright this morning?” he asked, the coffee machine gurgling as the aromatic brew dripped into the waiting mug.
“Yes...” her voice trailed off, uncertainty hanging in the air between them.
“But?” The ceramic mug clinked against the granite countertop as he set it down.
“I’m going to pack today so I can get out of here.” She rose from her seat, the spoon tinkling against porcelain as she stirred cream and sugar into her coffee before sinking back down.
“So soon?” He cleared his throat as his voice caught slightly on the words.
She met his gaze. “The sooner the better. I’m too scared to stay.”
“Do you need me to drive you to the airport?” He leaned back and gripped the edge of the counter.
“I’m driving. It’s a little over fifteen hours. I’ll drive as far as I can, stay at a hotel for the night, then get back on the road.”
Rawley nodded, his coffee forgotten as he crossed the kitchen. The chair’s legs scraped against the floor as he pulled it out and sat down, his fingers gently covering her hand, compelling her to look at him.
“I’ll miss you.”
She looked at him, unshed tears making her eyes glisten. “I’ll miss you too.”
Rawley stared at her, tightening his jaw. “When are you leaving?”
“I’m hoping tomorrow or the day after.” Her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt.
“I want to be with you before you leave.”
“Same here. Can you stay tonight?” She met his gaze, eyes searching his face.
“Yes. I need to head to work. I’m hoping that man shows.” He checked his watch.
“I understand.” She nodded.
“The dogs can stay with you.” He kissed her lips, lingering for a moment, then got to his feet with a soft grunt. He strode to the living room, the floorboards creaking beneath his boots, and put his hat and coat on over his Kevlar vest.
“Rawley?”
He faced her, silhouetted against the frost-covered window. “Yes?”
“Please be careful.”
“I will. I’ll talk to you later. The snow is too bad for you to be out.” He leaned down, kissed her again, then walked out into the porch. “Shit, it’s cold.”
“Let me know when you get there.” She hugged herself against the blast of winter air.
“Yes, ma’am.” He closed the door behind him, then trudged through the deep snow to his truck, leaving a trail of deep footprints that were already beginning to fill with fresh powder.
****
As Skylar listened for his truck to start, she sighed. The truck started and she gazed out of the window to see him backing out of the driveway. She noticed his tires didn’t even spin. Apparently, he was used to this much snow.
“Well, of course, he is. He’s lived in Montana his entire life.”
Shaking her head, she walked to the sofa, sank into its cushions and picked up the remote, turning on the TV. She knew she should pack but that would just make her cry, tears stinging her eyes at the mere thought. Leaving Rawley felt like having her heart ripped from her chest.
She picked up her phone and called Ryan.
“Hey, good morning. This snow is beautiful; like a blanket of diamonds,” Ryan said, her voice warm and comforting.
“It is,” Skylar cleared her throat, fighting the tightness that threatened to choke her words.
“What’s wrong? You sound off.”
Skylar sighed, a heavy exhale that carried the weight of her decision. “I’m going to my cabin with Cosmo—”
“What? Why?” Ryan’s voice sharpened with concern.
“I can’t get anything done on my book. Those men were here, at my house leaving tracks right up to my windows, and it terrifies me they’ll be back.” She shuddered at the memory.
“When was this?”
“Yesterday. Rawley came out and made plaster casts of the footprints, then he brought his two Border collies here and spent the night. The way his eyes kept scanning the tree line told me he knows exactly how scared I am.”
“Does he know you’re going to leave?”
“Yes. He said he’s not happy about it but does think it’s best for now.”
“You’re coming back, right?” Ryan’s question hung in the air.
“Yes, but only after he catches the rustlers, and who knows how long that will take. Ryan, I’m going to miss him so much,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“You can keep in touch with him. That could help you through the lonely nights.”
“I know. I have no idea what I’ll do today, other than fold sweaters and jeans into my suitcase.”
“You’re leaving that soon? The roads are barely visible.”
“I want out of here for now. You have Seth and I’m alone in this too-quiet house with a cat. It’s just too scary right now.”
“I’ll miss you,” Ryan said.
“You know I’ll miss you too. I’ll let you go. I’m going to pack. I probably won’t be able to load the SUV with the snow this deep today, but I can do it before I leave. I’m not in a hurry.”
“You’re going to run into snow, you know.”
“As long as it’s not too deep, I’ll make it. If I have to stop several times at roadside hotels, it won’t matter.”
“I know how I felt when I left Seth, that hollow ache in my chest, so I’m sure you’re hurting. Please let me know when you get to the cabin, even if it’s the middle of the night.”
“I will. Love you.” She attempted to smile.
“I love you too.” Ryan disconnected, leaving Skylar in silence broken only by the soft hum of the heating system.
Skylar knew she would miss her best friend so much.
They were so close, sharing secrets and wine-soaked evenings, which is why she moved here in the first place.
Getting to her feet, her muscles protesting after sitting tensely, she headed for the bedroom to pack some things.
She hoped the day went fast, each tick of the clock in the living room a reminder of her leaving Rawley.
****
Rawley guided his truck into the nearly deserted lot, the fresh layer of snow crunching under its tires.
He was grateful someone had already plowed the lot but knew the snow would quickly bury it again.
He killed the engine and opened the door.
A blast of icy air rushed in, biting at his cheeks, before he stepped onto the hard-packed snow and shut the door behind him.
He pulled his hat down, and strode toward the building’s glass doors, fogging up from the warmth within.
Inside, the foyer smelled faintly of disinfectant and hot coffee.
Rawley’s boots clicked on the marble floor as he headed for the stainless-steel elevator.
He pressed the call button, the small panel illuminating a dull glow.
He turned his head just as the outer doors swung open and caught sight of his father striding in, his coat buttoned, and his cowboy hat sitting low.
“Good morning, Your Honor,” Rawley said, touching the brim of his hat with a grin.
“Good morning, Agent Bowman. Nice weather.” His father’s eyes twinkled beneath his hat.
“I bet Mom’s thrilled.”
His father chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “She is. Sometimes I swear there’s something wrong with that woman.”
“Well, she did marry you,” Rawley shot back, lips twitching.
“If she hadn’t,” the judge said, arching an eyebrow, “you wouldn’t be standing here.”
Rawley laughed. “True.”
“Any trouble getting here?” his father asked as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
“Not once I got to the road, though the streets were ice rinks.” Rawley stepped inside, the faint musk of machine oil greeting him.
“Streets? You don’t have streets out where you live.” The judge shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Rawley smothered a grin. “Don’t tell Mom, she’ll interrogate me like a seasoned homicide detective.”
“Is it serious?” the judge asked as they rose past the lobby.
Rawley shrugged, leaning back against the mirrored wall. “All I know is I want to be with her every minute.”
“Sounds like love to me.” The elevator shuddered to a stop on the second floor, and the doors parted.
“Be damn careful out there today, Rawley,” his father warned, stepping out into the hushed corridor lined with courtroom and office doors.
“I will. You too, have a good day, Dad.”
“You too, son.” The doors closed on the judge’s retreating figure, and the elevator continued upward with a gentle hum.
When Rawley reached the third floor, he stepped off, then entered the department.
Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Only a handful of desks were occupied, most seats stood empty, the occupants stranded by the storm.
He peeled off his coat, hat and gloves and hung them on the stand beside his desk.
“Not many made it in today,” he murmured to himself, glancing toward the darkened doorway of Dave’s office.
Before he could sit, Killian appeared at his elbow, then his arms folded casually across his chest.
“Must be worse where they live,” Rawley said.
Killian nodded. “Dave called, he’s on his way. He said he had to shovel himself out first.”
Rawley settled into his chair. “I’m betting Mr. Barton will be busy clearing driveways again. He loves days like this.”
“Last year he did ours,” Killian said, perching on the corner of the desk. “Any progress on the case?”
Rawley opened a file and pulled out a series of photographs showing tire ruts in snow and told Killian about what happened at Skylar’s place. “They’ve been bold lately. I hope he can make it here today, but with these roads… we’ll see.”
“Think they’re still holed up in that motel?” Killian asked.
“If they are, he can reach the courthouse.” Rawley frowned at the photos, tracing the jagged edges of the tracks.
Killian stood, tugged on his coat, hat, and gloves. “Keep me posted. I’m heading to Spring City on another case.”
“Stay safe.”
Rawley turned back to the photos. By the light of the desk lamp, the ruts’ loops and swirls didn’t match his photos. He sat up straighter, brow furrowed.
“What the hell?” he muttered, leaning closer to the images.
His eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. They didn’t match.