Chapter 10 – Grant
TEN
GRANT
“Well, that was crap.”
I glance over to Nate as I crack the top of a Coke open and nod. “Sure was.”
“And yet, we have shit to show for it. No arrests. No nothing.”
“Makes for a long-ass day.” I take a sip as I lean back and put my feet on the desk I’m currently occupying in the squad room. “If you want twenty-four hour lights and sirens, Nate, then you should move to San Francisco. I’m sure the guys there would kill for the slower beat we have.”
“True. But I bet they’re adrenaline junkies. They wouldn’t be able to live without it.” I nod at his statement. “Speaking of which, the fun stuff always seems to happen when I’m out sick.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Lyle was just telling me in the locker room that you had a ninety five mile an hour-er the other day, but I don’t see it on the reports anywhere.” He leans his hip on the desk beside me and crosses his arms over his chest.
“It was an emergency situation. Lady speeding to get somewhere,” I explain as I nod a hello to a few more guys coming in to roll call to grab their assignments. “I was trying to be nice and just gave her a warning.”
“So, in other words, she was a hottie and you got her digits.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and take another sip while thinking of Emerson.
Her damn defiance and that haunted look she gets in her eyes every so often that makes me want to ask more questions than I know she’s willing to answer.
And then there were those little white shorts she was wearing the other day that made me think thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking but can’t help.
“Earth to Grant.”
“Sorry. I was just thinking about that first call today—”
“The asshole husband and sweet little girl? Yeah, they got to me, too.”
We both fall in silence for a second, and I hate that when I picture little Keely, an image of Emerson leaving school that day superimposes itself over it.
It’s just because she’s on my mind more than she should be. So much so that I’m projecting her situation onto another little girl when I know better.
“How about we liven up our day a bit and get some action?” he suggests.
“I get enough action. Thanks, though.” I chuckle just to irritate him.
“Fucking, Malone. Playboy cop. One of these days a woman’s going to come along and put handcuffs around that cold heart of yours, and then you’ll be whipped like the rest of us fuckers.”
“I’ll be cuffed, huh?” I run a hand over my jaw and shake my head. “Sorry, I just don’t see it . . . but if it makes you feel better about the white picket fence you’ll be locked behind, then by all means.”
“Some days I hate you, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you also love me,” I tease as Liv, the dispatcher, walks down the hall and gives me a coy smile that makes parts of me regret walking away from her.
“Shit. I told you she still wants you,” he murmurs as we both watch her hips sway.
“Me and my cold heart.” I laugh.
“You sure you don’t want to go out after shift is over?”
“Nah, I told the chief I’d stay and do some desk work.” Like that’s a fun way to spend the rest of my afternoon. “I’m reviewing the cold case files for him. Trying to prove how great of a detective I’d be. You know, gotta put a good foot forward if I want that promotion.”
“You’re kissing major ass with the extra hours you’re putting in,” he taunts.
“And I’m loving the OT pay. I can see a new patio and built-in barbecue in the near future.”
“The offer stands. A bunch of us are meeting at seven o’clock at McGregor’s if you get done in time.”
“Thanks, but I have other shit to do.”
“Ha,” he says as he pushes away from the table. “Just make sure you remember her name in the morning.”
“Whatever.” I shoo him away as I sit up in my chair to play the role of desk jockey and tackle updating the stack of case files in front of me.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I shouldn’t have let that old case file I went through get to me.
I shouldn’t have looked at the picture of the victim and thought about both Keely and Emerson.
I shouldn’t have let my finger hover over the search button on the file archives site where I had typed in “John Reeves, Emerson Reeves” and debated whether I should hit “find” so I could see what exactly it was that happened to her all those years ago.
And I definitely shouldn’t be driving out to Miner’s Airfield to where Desi said more often than not I could find Em.
But here I am, looking at the airstrip with hangars lining one side of the field and the airplanes parked to the right of them.
On the far side is another parking lot and Blue Skies, an old skydiving business.
It’s been there as long as I can remember, owned by the Skies family, who last I heard, no longer had any family members in town to run or even care about the place.
The lack of attention shows in the aged building and faded sign.
Why am I here?
Why am I chasing after someone who is clearly pushing me away?
Because I want to apologize to Emerson for the Tampax stunt? Yes and no, since she clearly beat me at my own game with the Viagra request. Or is it because every time I thought of Keely today, I kept seeing Em’s face when she was little and I know it isn’t going to go away any time soon.
More likely than either of those is the notion that if I see her, make sure she’s okay, befriend her, then it might just ease the guilt I feel over breaking my promise to her when we were kids.
My adult self knows it was the right thing to do.
The little boy beneath the surface still feels the guilt every time I picture the look on her face as she walked out of Mrs. Gellar’s classroom.
Em’s always been there in my mind. Sure, it’s been a long ass time since third grade, but in some sort of way, I knew I’d see her again. She isn’t someone I could easily forget.
Great, now I sound like some goddamn Hallmark movie.
I scrub my hands over my face, and when I look up, there she is in full living color, walking across the tarmac as if she owns the place.
In a flight suit with the sleeves tied around her waist and a purple tank top beneath it.
If jumping out of airplanes is what she likes to do to relax after a long day, I can’t imagine what else excites her.
As if sensing my attention on her, Emerson turns her head to face my direction, and I swear she knows it’s me. It’s the way she angles her head. It’s the immediate straightening of her shoulders. It’s the sudden stalking of her feet my way with a definite purpose.
I grin, can’t help that I do. I love seeing her all worked up. After the day I’ve had, I’m more than ready for a good fight.
But fuck if she’s not trying to distract me in other ways.
Like that damn flight suit of hers. It should be the most unattractive thing on the face of the earth—dark blue, baggy, manly—but .
. . goddamn. I’m a red-blooded male and would have to be dead not to notice how her tits bounce beneath that thin tank she has on.
I scrub a hand over my face to try to stop my thoughts from going where they shouldn’t, but hell if they don’t have a mind of their own.
They go there.
Oh, how they go there.
When she’s about twenty feet away from me, she stops and plants her hands on her hips before calling out, “Airstrip’s closed for maintenance. No one called for the police. You can turn around and leave now.”
I stare at her behind my sunglasses with my elbow propped on the open driver’s side window. “I’m off duty. And it’s good to see you, too, Em.” I grin just to irritate her.
“It isn’t good to see you.”
“Aww, now you’re just trying to win me over with kindness.”
She rolls her shoulders. “Sorry, we’re all out of tampons today. You can take your emergency elsewhere.” Sarcasm drips from her voice and only serves to antagonize me to draw this out.
“No emergency,” I say as I climb out from my truck and lean against the door. “Just out for a drive and somehow ended up here.”
“Convenient.” She snorts. “You came. You saw. You can leave now because you won’t conquer.” She flashes me a dazzling smile that just might serve to warm that cold heart that Nate swears I have.
“And you used to be so sweet.”
“And you used to not be so annoying.”
“All this fire from you and I can’t remember doing anything wrong.”
There’s a quick flash of something across her expression but between the distance and how fast it disappears, I can’t read what it means.
But it’s enough to know my comment got to her.
We stare at each other, both of us stubborn enough that we’d hold the line until someone looked away. While it might be fun to push her buttons, I know it isn’t going to get me anywhere. That I know for certain.
“Is this where you jump from?” I jut my chin to the tarmac behind her.
“What’s that?” she asks as she takes a step closer and furrows her brow.
“The other night at Desi’s house, a bunch of you were talking about skydiving.”
“And your point is?”
It takes everything I have not to tell her to stop when she begins to put her arms through the sleeves of her flight suit and zip it up. There’s no need to cover up the perfection I was just admiring. And when I meet her eyes again, her knowing expression says I’ve been caught checking her out.
Can she blame me?
“Well?” she prompts drawing me back to our conversation.
“I assumed you guys are on a dive team or something.”
She cocks her head to the side and chews on the inside of her cheek. “What do you want, Grant? You weren’t just on a drive, and you just didn’t happen to end up here . . . so what is it specifically that you want?”
Good question. It’s one I need to ask myself.
I take a few steps toward her as she does the same to me until we’re standing a few feet apart on the desolate tarmac.
“I’m not sure,” I murmur, more to myself than to her, wishing she’d take those damn aviator sunglasses off so I could see her eyes. At least then I might have a clue as to what’s running through that mind of hers.