Chapter 17
The backdoor was half open, alarm counting down but no sign of Sonny.
Santiago shut the door and disarmed his security system.
Turning, he saw Sonny step into the hallway, a large hunk of cake—his cake—in his hand as he stepped out of the kitchen.
Sonny stopped chewing and smiled when he saw Santiago.
“Brother, where’d you get this? Outside of seeing Hammerhead, it’s the only good thing I’ve experienced since entering this shithole, time-warped ass town.”
Santiago watched Sonny silently. The old frustration returned, probably because it had never gone.
“Don’t touch my fucking cakes,” he said flatly.
In all his years in the navy, Sonny still seemed to have a problem with impulse control. Ultimately, his inability to maintain control was the reason Sonny opted out of the unit after years of serving together.
Finishing off the cake, Sonny watched Santiago skeptically, then wiped the crumbs from his mouth and hands as he approached, then wrapped his arms around Santiago, pounding him on the back in greeting.
“Thank you, brother, for the opportunity. I need this. I missed the team.”
Santiago returned the hug because on the other side of his anger and disappointment, he’d missed the friend he’d loved like a younger brother.
It was one thing for Sonny to allow impulse to kill the men not on their targeted list, but the team could’ve weathered that.
When Sonny chose to walk away from the navy and the team, rather than acknowledge wrongdoing and accept the consequences, Santiago had to shut Sonny out of his heart and mind and keep going.
He stepped back.
“It was Roan’s idea to bring you in.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know your unforgiving ass would’ve let me continue to float in dark waters just to keep making a point?
Have you learned that things aren’t always right and wrong yet, that sometimes control snaps despite how much you demand rigid inflexibility over all emotion. ”
“Sounds spot on to me, and I’ve only known the man a couple of weeks,” Lauren said from the stairs. Sonny’s eyebrows rose as he looked from Santiago to Lauren.
He exercised his hard-fought control as Sonny stepped around him and moved to the foot of the stairs.
“Beauty, he is not worthy. This man doesn’t even deserve to breathe on you sideways. Come, come down, I’ll undo this bad choice you are attempting to make.”
Lauren laughed. “I like you.”
“Get out of my house.”
“I’m going, League. Just sign the papers and me and—”
“Lauren.”
“Me and Lauren Cakes—you did make the cakes?”
“I did.”
“Me and Lauren Cakes are going to find a nice kitchen and I’m going to get my own cake, and I won’t be a selfish bastard about it.” He extended his hand, waved her to him. “You know the last time I saw him he nearly broke my arm. He’s got a violent streak.”
“He’s always calling me the violent one.”
Sonny’s hand dropped. “Say what now?”
“I just think it’s ironic that he’s always telling me I’m violent when, based on what you’re saying, he’s the violent one.”
Sonny took a step back.
“One thing League was born to do is assess a situation. If he says you’re violent, I got to believe it. It’s probably not you, but there’s this syndrome his women go through. I’m sorry, he’s the only one who can deal with you now.”
“Wow, I thought you were here to rescue me from him,” she said, feigning hurt.
“I don’t know you. Sometimes good food makes me act overly familiar. Sorry.”
“Good thing I’m able to rescue you, Deputy Te Awa.”
She looked at Santiago and shook her head. “Got all these people believing your foolishness. I’ll be in the office gathering my things. When you’re done swearing in Deputy Can’t Do Right, I’ve got a situation that requires your personal attention.”
“That’s the shit I’m talking about,” Sonny muttered uncomfortably, refusing to look in Lauren’s direction. She winked at Santiago as she walked to his office.
He watched the jiggle of her ass until it was no longer visible.
“Come to the kitchen so I can make breakfast and debrief you on what you’re stepping into.”
“I’ve been walking between worlds for a long time. I don’t imagine there’s much in this town worse than that.”
The changes in Sonny within a couple of years weren’t stark.
No significant weight changes, still well-muscled, standing at six five; no new wounds seemed to mar his visible flesh; no vacant dead snake eyes.
His light brown skin though, despite his Pacific Islander heritage, had a paler slightly ashen quality.
Roan was right. He should’ve brought Sonny in a long time ago.
In the kitchen, he pulled the steak he was going to cook last night from the fridge, gathered eggs, tortillas, a can of black beans, cheese, butter, and seasoning and began to make carne asada breakfast burritos.
“This is a town of about three thousand people…”
He told him about the changes facing the community, the cases they were facing—which reminded him he needed to talk to Lauren about her visit to Bailey Joe’s—the political landscape, and the tensions within the department. “You think you can manage that?”
“I can handle it, League. I won’t let you down again.”
“Let’s finish brunch then head to the station. If we don’t feed the she-wolf soon she’ll come for our throats.”
“Screw you, Stillwater,” he heard Lauren yell from down the hall. “I will come for your dicks!”
Sonny blanched.
“Why would she say that?” he said low, as if he was afraid she’d hear him.
Santiago shrugged. “Because she’s violent as shit.”
Santiago sent Sonny back to the station with paperwork completed and orders in hand.
“Now that we’re alone, can I tell you something you probably won’t like?” Lauren asked, slipping the strap of her bag over her shoulder as she prepared for the walk back home.
Santiago placed his coffee on the table and folded his arms across his chest as he regarded her silently.
He took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly.
“Let me have it.”
“Even if it’s going to make your job more difficult?”
“Even if.”
She handed him the folder of information.
“I just happened to come across some of your notes on Bailey Joe’s death, and you know I went to his house to talk to him a couple of days ago.
I was going to ask him about the revitalization plan, but he never answered.
He may have been dead even then. I saw you don’t know his cause of death yet, but Santi, I have a feeling your Bailey Joe was murdered.
And that the mayor may have had something to do with it.
“Bailey Joe may have had something in his documentation related to the program that could help me confirm that the mayor is fleecing the businesspeople of Shrouded Lake. Hire me as a forensic accountant so I can have more access to his records and maybe I can prove it. The balances aren’t adding up. But I need more.”
Santiago closed his eyes.
She held her breath, anticipating his anger and rejecting derision.
“If what you say is even remotely true, Anderson won’t approve any budget to bring in an auditor.
The only reason I was able to bring on Sonny is because we lost Deputy Madden to retirement three months ago.
I haven’t been able to find a qualified applicant since.
Seems not many qualified outsiders want to live and work in a dying town. ”
She sighed, hiding her relief. “Does it look like I need this town to pay me?”
“Not in the least.”
“Exactly. But you will, because this needs to be official. So for the one time deal of two hundred dollars, I am yours.”
“Two hundred an hour?” he frowned.
“Total. At the originally scheduled meeting I was going to grill the mayor and council on the development of the plan, talk about the weaknesses and inconsistencies I’d found, then discuss better ways to build revenue.
You hire me and in the upcoming meeting I’ll provide a detailed report of the town’s finances.
Where money is going, where revenue is coming from, a summary of the last seven years, plus a one-year and a five-year financial plan with projections. ”
“Write up the contract,” Santiago said, standing. “I’ll have Audrey cut you a check today.”
He closed the distance between them. She took a step back. Then another.
“Why are you being menacing? I’m trying to help you.”
He reached out and placed his palm against her cheek, then her forehead.
Both her heart rate and breathing increased.
His hand followed a path to her throat which he gripped and pulled her toward him.
“How you feeling, little wren?” he asked; his lips brushing against her ear.
“Your face feels flushed. Your pupils are dilated. Looks like you’re in respiratory distress.
” His other hand cupped the weight of her breast, thumb grazing her nipple.
“And look at this state of hyperarousal, looks like you’re coming down with something. Want me to hazard a guess as to what?”
He brushed his lips over hers, then kissed her slow, lazy, dirty.
She whimpered then groaned, fisting his hair as she pulled him closer, kissed him deeper, ready to crawl up his body, wrap her legs around his hips, and ride him into the sunset.
He pulled away, his laugh husky. Even that felt sensual right now.
“No doubt about it, you’re infected. But you know what they say, the disease is also the cure. Come back tonight and I’ll dose you right up.”
She steadied her breathing and stepped out of his hold.
Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her head high and held onto her bag as if it was her last defense against Santiago’s maddening touch.
“I’m going home now. I’ll return tonight with the contract and any documentation you might need for a background check.”
“I completed a background check on you within twenty-four hours of you being here.”
She was about to curse him the hell out because why would he run a background check on her and he hadn’t even arrested her?
“Why do I have a feeling there’s something you want to say to me?” he taunted.