Chapter Nine #3
Jackson deferred to Wade, who nodded. Murphy disappeared inside the cabin without another word.
“See what I mean?” Jackson asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
“He’s not friendly,” Wade said.
“That’s an understatement.”
“Do you know how he got injured?”
“I asked him last time. He said it was work-related.”
“Construction work?”
“He didn’t specify.”
Wade thought of Jason Reed, Natalie’s fiancé. Jason had been a stranger in Last Chance, and he hadn’t been given a warm welcome by the locals, Wade included. “Not every outsider is a threat.”
“That guy is.”
“But is he a petty thief who robs his own neighbors?”
“Maybe not,” Jackson allowed.
“You should interview Elvira.”
Jackson sighed heavily. “Right. Sorry for wasting your time.”
“You didn’t waste my time,” Wade said. “You were following standard procedure, and I’m always available for backup.”
“I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
Jackson put his notebook in his uniform pocket. “My sister booked one of those cabins for the summer.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Wade said.
“She moved to Colorado about five years ago. Hasn’t visited since she left.”
Wade didn’t ask why, though he wondered.
“She doesn’t get along with my dad,” Jackson said.
“Ah.”
“He’s not easy to please.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“She married this hotshot stockbroker she met in college. Now they’re getting divorced, but she won’t talk about it.”
“You’re worried about her.”
“I am,” Jackson admitted. “She’s going through a hard time, and she’s got a wild streak. I hope Murphy clears out before she gets here.”
Wade smiled his understanding. He’d have the same concern if his mother was around. Paul Murphy looked like the kind of man a recent divorcée with a wild streak would find interesting.
“You worked for your father in Last Chance,” Jackson said.
“I did.”
“How was it?”
“Difficult.”
“Did he stand in your way or give you a leg up?”
After mulling it over, he decided to answer honestly. “I didn’t want a leg up from him. He’s not someone I admire.”
Jackson studied Wade in silence. Their situations were similar on the surface.
Jackson was a young, ambitious officer who worked for an overbearing father.
Unlike Boyd Hendricks, however, Sheriff Nava appeared to run a clean department.
He was tough but fair. Wade hadn’t expected an easy ride in Lost Lake, and he knew he wouldn’t get one.
Even so, he liked it here. He felt more at ease than he had in Last Chance.
Wade left the young deputy to his own devices and grabbed a quick meal at a drive-through before he returned to the station. Sheriff Nava was in his office with the door closed. Wade opted not to disturb him.
At his own desk, he buried himself in the research he’d started earlier, crossing names off the list until there were none left.
Frustrated by the dead end, he exited the database and rubbed his screen-tired eyes.
He might have to widen his search to include the entire state of Texas.
Before he did that, he would email Texas A&M for a list of dropouts.
The local newspaper was another resource to tap.
It would have articles about college-bound students, especially athletes.
Wade made a note to contact the coroner about the official death report and follow up with forensics.
A glance out the crooked blinds of the office window revealed that night had fallen.
Wade closed his laptop. He needed to stay on Nava’s good side, and putting in overtime to investigate a cold case wasn’t the best use of department funds.
He left the station, climbed behind the wheel of his truck, and headed back to Nolan Ranch.
Or Wisteria Farms as the fancy soaps boasted.
When he arrived, the house was dark and quiet. The dogs had been put away. Wade wondered how Mary was feeling. She’d been prickly this morning, and she’d rejected him last night, but that didn’t mean she disliked him. Judging by the way she’d responded to his touch, she liked him just fine.
He stripped out of his uniform and sprawled out on the floor. Against his better judgment, he let his thoughts wander to Mary. He remembered how she’d looked before he kissed her. He replayed that moment in his mind, among others.
Read my lips, Hendricks.
Wade rolled over with a low groan. Arousal thrummed in his veins and pooled in his groin. He considered taking the problem in hand, so to speak, and disregarded it. His mother had been right about one thing. He did need the privacy of his own space. Jerking off in the living room was not an option.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to sleep, to no avail.
After a restless half hour, he rose from the floor, donned clothes, and went for a walk around the property.
He hadn’t investigated the barn yet. Inside the dog run, King stood as silent as a statue, his eyes shining with quiet intelligence.
Daisy, his polar opposite, put her paws up on the gate and regarded Wade with a thumping tail.
Wade reached out to let her sniff his hand as he passed by.
She licked his knuckles in a display of affection that surprised him.
The barn was set apart from the house, near the goat pen.
One of the goats bleated plaintively into the still night.
Wade opened the wooden door and ventured inside.
He expected rusty tools and moldy hay, but the space smelled clean, even floral.
He switched on a lamp by the doorway and found himself in a tidy workshop.
Wade closed the door behind him and looked around.
Metal shelves were stacked with baskets of flowers and other ingredients.
There were barrels of lye in the corner.
Blocks of soap, curing in cheesecloth, sat on top of a long wooden table.
A fresh-cut square of soap had been left out, so he picked it up.
The soap was pale pink, like strawberry ice cream.
He held it to his nose and inhaled. This was Mary’s scent.
He preferred the cedar soap for himself, because it had a woodsy smell, but he knew she used this one. He recognized it immediately, and his body reacted as if she was standing here with him, pressing her lips to his. Desire swelled inside him.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He’d gone too long without sex. If he didn’t have some kind of release, he was going to explode.
Wade glanced around the quiet interior of the barn, contemplating the space.
It was private enough. He could unbutton his pants and stroke himself right here, but the chance of getting caught gave him pause.
Maybe he should go farther away, into the gardens.
He pictured himself wanking furtively in the moonlight while goats bleated and chickens squawked.
Not a good look.
Wade kept his pants on, because he wasn’t a horny teenager anymore.
He could endure arousal without satisfaction.
Although he was tired, his feet didn’t move.
He wanted to linger for a moment, and wallow in Mary’s scent.
He lifted the soap to his nose again, inhaling deeply.
Then he heard the creak of the barn door.
Damn.
He glanced over his shoulder to confirm the worst-case scenario. Mary, the object of his desire, stood in the doorway in an oversized T-shirt, pajama pants, and half boots. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in wonder.
“What…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze traveled down his body. “What are you doing out here?”
Wade couldn’t come up with an answer. He’d been caught with a raging hard-on and a bar of soap. Unable to think of a plausible excuse, he turned the question back to her. “What are you doing out here?”
“I heard the goats,” she said. “We get predators sometimes.”
“Predators?”
“Coyotes.”
“They come into the barn?”
“No, they try to get in the chicken coop.” Her brow furrowed with confusion. “Are you going to wash something?”
He choked out a laugh, more amused than embarrassed. He remembered their first encounter, when she’d mistaken him for an intruder and pointed a shotgun at him. At least she wasn’t armed tonight. “Not exactly.”
“You have a bar of soap.”
Wade couldn’t deny the obvious. “I was smelling it. It smells like you.”
She studied him for a long, awkward moment. This was not an appropriate interaction to have with his mother’s employee, but whatever. He hadn’t sought her out. She’d come to him. They kept bumping into each other, like moths to flame.
He changed the subject. “Did you reload the shotgun?”
“What?”
“My mother’s shotgun wasn’t loaded the last time I visited. I took out the shells. Did you reload it?”
“Yes.”
“Why? To shoot coyotes?”
She didn’t answer.
“I don’t want her to have access to a loaded gun.”
“I need it for protection,” she blurted.
“From me?”
“No,” she said quietly. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Before he could ask the next logical question, she turned and fled.
He followed her outside but didn’t try to catch her.
He watched in silence as she ran into the house to escape him.
Then he turned the lights off in the barn, disturbed by her reaction.
Women didn’t usually treat him like the plague, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
Mary’s opinion mattered to him. He wanted to get to know her better.
He wanted to go to bed with her, too. He couldn’t believe she’d walked in on him sniffing her soap like it was a pair of her damned panties.
She probably thought he was a total creep.
He returned to the living room floor, his mind in turmoil. Lying down, he stared into the night and took steady breaths. Although the release he’d been seeking hadn’t come, he was able to relax his muscles and summon calm.
To his surprise, he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.