He chuckled. “You’re spending a lot of money on a dog who probably belongs to someone else.”
“I’ll give notice to the animal shelter and post some found posters, but I doubt anyone will claim her. Look at the poor thing. She’s obviously abandoned.”
“Or lost. Dogs run off.”
“There you go with all your cheer again.”
“No, I’m just good at avoiding a broken heart.”
Didn’t he mean another broken heart?
* * *
Cal watched Jaslene dry off the softly crying puppy after its warm bath. The maternal way she cared for the creature touched a soft spot in him, one he wasn’t prepared to have touched.
“What are you going to call her?”
“I don’t know. Crybaby, if she doesn’t stop that pitiful sound.”
“She’s probably tired.” Jaslene had already fed her and given her some water. She’d put one dog bed in the living room and the other in the bedroom.
Wrapping her in a soft throw, Jaslene cradled the puppy, who gave a few grunts and rested her chin at the bend of her arm with drooping eyes. After a few exhausted blinks, the puppy fell asleep.
“I think my heart just melted,” Jaslene said.
“Just like holding a baby.” Cal wished he hadn’t let that thought slip. He’d watched mothers hold their babies and imagined his wife doing the same someday. But she had destroyed any dream of having that together.
“You’ve held a lot of babies?”
“No.” He brushed a finger over the top of the puppy’s head, careful not to wake her up. He hoped she wouldn’t dwell on that topic.
“Nieces and nephews?”
“It was just a figure of speech.” Please, make her stop.
“Do you want babies?”
And there it was. Cal felt opened up and exposed right now. He struggled to maintain aloofness.
“I did.” Maybe he could use this to cool this attraction between them; letting her know how important having a family had once been to him should accomplish that. He wished he could still look forward to that, but doing so would only lead to devastation.
“But not anymore?”
“I should get going,” he said shortly.
She looked at him a moment and then seemed to allow him to back off. “All right. Let me put Rapunzel to bed and then I’ll see you to the door.”
Apparently, she’d decided on a name, but why did she want him to wait? Why didn’t she just let him leave? Did she intend to try and get him to talk about why he no longer wanted kids?
An image of her holding a real baby—his baby—struck him and he had to forcibly chase it from his mind.
She took the puppy to her room, presumably to put it to bed. Feeling a little foolish for waiting, Cal went to stand by the entrance in her living room, an earthy, no-fuss room that was more functional than decorative.
Hearing her return, he faced her.
“Um...” She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through her golden hair.
“It’s a short walk.” He extended his arm toward her front door.
She breathed a brief laugh and lowered her hand. “I didn’t ask you to wait for that. Um...”
He waited.
“I... I know it’s probably none of my business, but...”
Yep, he was right. “I don’t want kids because I wanted them with my wife, who showed me that some people don’t mean what they say.”
“Not all people.”
“She had me convinced she was the only one for me.”
“Maybe she didn’t plan on meeting another man. Maybe she didn’t intend on hurting you.” She reached out her hands toward him. “Look at you. You’re a handsome man. She must have thought she was lucky to have you.”
“No. She thought I was lucky to have her.”
The amount of himself he had put into that relationship gnawed at him. He felt like an idiot for not recognizing the signs, the most glaring being that she had not loved him.
Jaslene put her hands on her hips...sexy hips. The sight calmed him and drove negative thoughts about his ex-wife away.
“Well, if that’s true, why did you marry her?” she asked.
“I thought I was lucky to have her.”
“What was so special about her?”
That was an excellent question. “She was career driven and liked doing the same things I do. She also seemed impressed with what I did for a living and told me she wanted a family.”
“Does she have one now? A family?”
He hated that his ex-wife did have a family now. His face must have showed his sentiment.
Her mouth formed an O and he heard the faintest “Oh.” She touched his forearm. “Now I understand why you’re so bitter.”
He fought off a heated reaction to her touch—that all too welcoming heat. “I’m no longer a dreamer. People die. People kill. People sleep around and get divorced. That’s not only the thing that turns me off about having a family. It’s my profession, too. I’m hardly ever home.”
She stepped closer, letting her hand fall from his forearm. “Why did you think it could work with your ex-wife?”
He liked looking at her soft, blue eyes that were the color of a Caribbean island bay. “I believed her. She said she’d be there for the kids when I couldn’t be. I don’t want to bring children into a family destined for dysfunction.”
“Not all marriages fail.”
“They say fifty percent fail but I think that number is closer to eighty.”
She put her forefinger on his chest. “Maybe you should try to get past your divorce.”
He had an urge to slide his arm around her and give her a kiss she wouldn’t forget. “I am past it.” He would never make that mistake again.
“No, you aren’t. You think every woman is as untrustworthy as your ex.”
“Not every woman.” Only the ones who cheated. He left that unspoken.
Rising up onto her toes, she said in a husky tone, “I didn’t cheat.”
He wasn’t sure if she deliberately encouraged him or if her attraction led her, but he didn’t question. He just slid his arm around her waist, pulled her against him and kissed her.
He felt her stiffen and heard her sharp indrawn breath. But if she felt the same fire as him, she’d go with him on this expedition. Sure enough, she relaxed against him and moved her lips with his.
Just before he lost all ability to listen to caution, he gently withdrew. Her sultry eyes nearly did him in and had him going back for more. He needed to shut this down or things would move too fast.
“You didn’t cheat because you didn’t have the chance,” he said.
She blinked a few times and then as awareness of his words seeped through her passion, her brows lowered. “What?” She pushed his chest and he stepped back, letting her go. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He grinned. “I know you’re a good kisser.” With that he turned and went to the door.
He might have joked around and flirted with her, but as he left the house, his gut roiled. What if he was wrong about her? He didn’t want to hear what happened with her alleged affair.
He approached his car and noticed a familiar truck parked across the street. An instant later he recognized Riley. Damn, that man was bold. He didn’t seem to care that he was seen.
Concerned for Jaslene’s safety, Cal walked to the side of the truck, even more surprised when Riley lowered the window instead of driving away.
“What are you doing here?” Cal asked.
“I was waiting for Jaslene to come out so I could talk to her.”
That seemed more than a little odd. Why wait in his truck? Why not knock on the door? Maybe he just said that and just got his rocks off stalking Jaslene. The man must have psychological issues. “What do you
want to talk to her about?”
“I want to know what she’s going to do to make up for causing Payton’s death.”
Cal met his angry eyes without flinching or giving away any reaction to that startling comment. “How do you know she’s dead?”
“She’s gone. She’d be here if she was alive,” he snapped.
Did he really blame Jaslene for Payton’s supposed death? “You think she’d still be here if the two of you were still together?”
Riley narrowed his eyes. “She would still be with me if Jaslene hadn’t interfered.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about anything. If you continue to stalk Jaslene, I’m going to have you arrested.”
Riley put his truck into gear. “She’s going to pay for what she did, and so will you if you keep hanging around her.”
“I’d like to see you try. You go within fifty feet of her and I’ll come after you.”
“She may as well have killed Payton herself.”
“Don’t come back here again.” Cal looked into the cab of the truck, searching for anything suspicious. There was a lot of trash, as though Riley spent most of his time in there.
Riley shifted on the car seat and Cal spotted a pistol in his right hand. He held it under his thigh but Cal saw part of the grip.
He met the man’s eyes. “Why the gun, Riley?”
Riley just sent him another angry look before driving off.
Cal ran to his SUV, got in, started the engine and flipped a hasty U-turn before going after the truck. He followed Riley through town, seeing him look into the rearview mirror several times. He knew Cal was tailing him.
Riley sped into a turn and Cal followed, removing his gun and readying it to fire if Riley threatened him. He checked his speed. About thirty over the speed limit. This road led out of town. Once they reached the open highway, Riley sped up more. Cal easily kept up.
Riley slowed and spun into a three-sixty. Cal started to do the same as Riley began firing. Cal ducked and came up to fire back, hitting Riley’s driver’s side door.
Riley then drove back into town, all the way to a run-down bar called Harley’s Tavern. Cal had investigated Riley’s whereabouts the night of Payton’s disappearance, and he’d been at this bar. Riley parked in the potholed lot, looking back at Cal.
Cal parked on the street and got out. Now that he was private he couldn’t arrest Riley, but he could easily have that arranged. The man posed a clear threat to Jaslene. Cal would feel a lot better if he was in jail.
Going into the bar, Cal put his gun away and searched for Riley. Country music played from a jukebox. People played pool and sat at the bar drinking. Only one of the six tables was occupied by two heavily made-up women in leather pants and jackets.
“Where did that man who just entered go?” he asked the bartender.
A tall man with a slightly protruding stomach, light hazel eyes and a bald head, the bartender nodded toward the restrooms. Cal hurried to the hall, seeing the restrooms and a doorway leading to a back area. He raced to the back door. As he opened it, he heard the sound of a motorcycle. Running out into the alley, he saw Riley riding away. He’d parked a bike here? Or had he stolen it?
Back inside, he went to the bar. “Do you know that man who came through here?”
“Yeah. Riley Sawyer. Comes in regularly. What was his hurry? He in trouble again?”
“He’s a person of interest.”
The bartender sized him up. “You a cop?”
“I was. I’m a private investigator now.”
“You cops came in here a while ago asking about him. This about that girl that went missing?” the bartender asked.
“Riley ain’t been the same since then. She was his girlfriend,” one of the men at the bar, his dark eyes droopy and his light brown hair greasy, said. He smelled like he hadn’t washed his jeans in a couple of weeks and like most everyone else in the bar, wore a leather jacket.
“His girlfriend?”
“He never stops talking about her,” the bartender said, wiping the bar in one area.
“She put a restraining order on him before she went missing,” Cal said.
“He never mentioned that,” the patron said.
“He has been acting bizarre lately.” The bartender poured two beers and a waitress took them on a tray from the bar.
“Only lately?” Payton had gone missing months ago.
“He was upset she was gone,” the patron said. “But he seems to have progressively gotten worse.”
“Crazier,” the bartender added. “Like running through here to get to his bike and you showing up with a gun. Strangest thing I’ve seen so far.”
“Definitely the strangest,” the patron said, drinking some beer.
“Why did he park a motorcycle in the back?” Cal asked.
“He keeps it here sometimes. Says he doesn’t have room for it at his apartment.”
More like he parked it there in case he needed to get away from someone. Like Cal. Well, Cal would have to put some pressure on the man. He looked around for the waitress who’d served Riley the night Payton disappeared and didn’t see her.
“What about the waitress that served him the night Payton went missing?” Cal asked the bartender. “Where is she?”
“She doesn’t work here anymore.”
He supposed she had no reason to lie and decided to look for other clues.
“Thanks,” he said to the men, then headed for the door, taking out his phone on the way.
He’d report what happened to the police. Nobody started shooting at him and got away with it. Nobody threatened someone under his protection, either. While he could not think of Jaslene as a victim, she could become one, if Riley had his way. He refused to allow that to happen. Normally he investigated victims who were already dead. Rarely did he have a chance to prevent a living one from being harmed.
Imagining anything terrible happening to Jaslene gave him a sense of apprehension. He didn’t think he would feel the same intensity with anyone else. With most cases, he’d have this usual ambition to see it through, but not with this much personal investment. That caused him some anxiety. Like thinking of her having and holding his baby, protecting her felt too intimate.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Jaslene handed Cal a few flyers featuring a picture of Rapunzel and her cell phone number. Found Lost Dog, the print said. She dreaded doing this. Especially now that she had named the sweet thing, she had grown attached, but she had to do the right thing and do all she could to find the dog’s owner. Only Cal’s nearness and the memory of him kissing her softened the task with distraction. Good thing she wore a pair of red gloves and couldn’t feel his skin when he took the flyers. She wore a matching red scarf with her black jacket and also a hat and a pair of new snow boots. It was supposed to snow several inches today.
Jaslene adjusted her red scarf over her jacket.
He looked handsome in his winter jacket and jeans, with his thick hair waving in a slight breeze.
“Riley was outside your house when I left. I followed him to Harley’s Tavern.”
That revelation alarmed Jaslene. She had not noticed Riley outside her house. This was getting terrifying. He was aggressively stalking her.
“He got away on a motorcycle he parks behind the bar, but I talked with the bartender and a patron. They didn’t reveal anything new, just shared some observations on how obsessed with Payton he was and how her death changed him.”
Jaslene looked around for any sign of Riley. She didn’t see his truck anywhere.
“I stopped by the station and talked with some friends. We studied the case again and they said they would be on the lookout for Riley.”
He turned to a light pole and taped a flyer there. “What are you going to do if someone responds to these?”
Jasle
ne didn’t like thinking about that. But she would do the right thing. “Give her back. I checked the My Neighborhood site for any postings on missing dogs and there were none,” Jaslene said. “I also checked with the Humane Society and nothing turned up there, either. I have an appointment with a vet to check for a microchip and have her examined just in case.”
“You could just keep the puppy.” Cal looked at her, his tone teasing.
If she had lost a dog, she would want the person who found it to try to return it to her. The right thing to do was this, stapling or taping posters to light poles near where she’d found Rapunzel.
“Maybe no one will claim her.”
“You shouldn’t have named her.”
“You saw her, would not naming her have been any different?”
He chuckled. “Probably not.”
The deep sound of his laugh fanned her senses. She stapled a poster to a light pole.
“We did something similar for Payton,” Jaslene said. “Not to compare humans to dogs. We searched a lot harder for Payton.”
She’d hoped something would come of the effort but nothing ever did.
They walked down the sidewalk, snow beginning to fall from low gray clouds. She could see her breath, and Cal’s. The heart of Chesterville had the charm of a Dickensian village. New this year were the strings of white lights hanging across the street between the town’s oldest buildings. Black metal lampposts and large stone planters that held bursts of color in summer lined the entire stretch of buildings for three blocks. Awnings covered the entry of many stores. Signs hung above entrances, some extending out on brackets. Umbrellas from the patios of cafés and pubs had all been taken in for the winter.
She glanced at Cal, amazed yet again by his kindness. He didn’t have to come out here and help her today. His job was to find Payton, but what would his next steps be?
“I know you checked all her coworkers, but did you look into the articles she reported?” Jaslene asked.
Payton had been an enthusiastic reporter for their small-town newspaper. Reporting took artistic talent as much as clever curiosity. Payton was smart like Jaslene. Where Jaslene thrived on hard science, Payton loved figuring out people and their interesting situations.
Cold Case Manhunt (Cold Case Detectives Book 7) Page 5