by Riley Storm
Neither of them listened to the response. Carla knew she would hear about that later, but right then, she didn’t care.
“I usually like to fight my own battles,” she said slowly. “But good lord, you just called him Duncebar on the common channel. Everyone is going to know about that now. This is so worth the ass-chewing I’m going to get when I go back to the station later. So thank you for that,” she said, now fighting to keep from bursting into tears of laughter.
“Are we actually anywhere near our destination?” Pace asked, looking outside the car.
They had passed the edge of town now, heading south. The only buildings in sight were a few farmhouses.
“Almost,” she said. “Should be a turnoff just over this little rise.”
As promised, they cleared the top and on the right there was a gravel road turnoff. She took it, following it through a small line of trees.
“Seems…inauspicious,” Pace said, echoing her thoughts.
A medium-sized barn stood off to the left side, faded red paint speaking of better times. One of the sliding doors hung at an angle as well. That combined with the debris piled up along the edges of the walls said it wasn’t in use anymore. She was pretty sure part of the roof was sagging in as well.
The house on the right was in a bit better shape. A wide wraparound porch looked like it had recently been fixed up. Fresh flowers hung on either side of the steps leading up to the front door, while the exterior was clean and freshly washed. Baby-blue shutters framed every window, adding a splash of color to the otherwise plain white siding.
“Trace says this was the last known place,” she said, pulling up to the house.
“Let’s go find them then,” Pace said, halfway out the car before she’d even killed the ignition.
“Okay, cowboy, slow down there. We have procedures to follow and—”
The roar of an engine came through his open door. Carla whipped her head around to see the wonky barn door go flying from its remaining hinge as an orange jeep burst through and sped back toward the road.
“Well don’t just stand there catching flies,” she snapped. “Close your jaw and get in.”
They had found their bad guy. Now it was up to her to catch him.
Carla smiled tightly.
She had this.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Carla
“Are you going to…you know?”
Carla wrenched the wheel to the right. Gravel spewed out behind her car and a second later the tires found and grabbed at asphalt. They screeched, and the sudden acceleration pushed both of them back into their seats for a second.
“Am I going to what?” she asked, looking over at him in confusion for a moment before returning her focus to the road and pursuing their quarry.
At least, she assumed that was who it was. After all, who else would be fleeing from them but their murder suspect?
“Um. We’re in your car,” Pace said with a shrug. “Can we like, you know?”
“Can we what?” she growled.
Pace held up his index finger point to the sky and moved his hand in horizontal circles. “Wee-ooo, wee-ooo, wee-ooo.”
“Oh for…” Carla reached up and flicked a button on the control panel set into her roof.
A moment later, the sound of her sirens reached them.
“That’s loud,” Pace said, raising his voice.
“You wanted the full experience,” she shot back as they whipped around a corner, still in hot pursuit. “Now you’re getting it.”
“Yee-haw!”
“We’re not in a Western,” she grumbled. “See those. They’re mountains. We don’t say yee-haw in the mountains.”
“You know, it’s a pity.” He didn’t continue.
Carla gritted her teeth. She was trying to drive here. “What’s a pity, Pace?”
“That you didn’t bring more coffee. You’re kind of grouchy this morning.”
“I’m trying to chase down our murder suspect!” she yelped. “We just found his hideout, and now he’s on the run. I’m a little focused.”
Pace shrugged. “Yeah I know. You’re gaining on him though. You’ve got this. I’m not worried about that at all.”
“Well it’s not as easy as it looks, okay? I’m focused, and I want to make sure we catch him. Can you manage that?”
“Of course. Though, I should point out, I don’t think that was his hideout. Just a temporary stop.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked as they took a turn off the main road. “He’s heading up into the mountains.”
“Just a hunch,” Pace said quietly. “But I suspect his real hideout is somewhere in the mountains.”
He didn’t elaborate, but Carla didn’t have the time to focus on him right then. The road was getting narrower, the corners more frequent and sharper. It was going to take every ounce of skill she had to close the remaining distance.
It didn’t take long for her to realize that it wasn’t going to happen.
“He’s gaining on us,” she growled angrily. “The jeep can corner tighter, and there aren’t really any straightaways here for me to use my greater acceleration. Damn!”
Pace nodded. “We’ll get him though.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, confused.
“I know this road. It forks about a mile up ahead. The more inviting road to the left is actually a dead end. My guess is he takes that way, assuming it heads back down the mountain, even though it doesn’t.”
Carla nodded. “Got it. Well, let’s hope you’re right.”
They were about five car-lengths behind the jeep at this point, and Carla’s superior driving was keeping them from losing much more ground, but she wasn’t getting them any closer.
Then their suspect did just as Pace suspected, and at the fork her went left.
“Got him!” she cried and slammed the pedal down, taking advantage of the relatively straight section while she could. “We’ll catch him now for sure.”
“Maybe,” Pace said, but he didn’t sound certain.
“What now? He screwed up. We got him, this road is a dead end, you said so yourself.”
Pace nodded. “I know, but this guy has been super organized so far Carla. It isn’t like him to make such a rash decision. I just fear that he’s still got a plan. Something that will allow him to elude us.”
“Maybe,” she said, watching the corner carefully as they went higher into the mountain.
The sides of the road were falling away sharply now, steep embankments, especially to the left of her car, where the mountainside dropped away sharply.
“The road ends up ahead,” Pace said. “He’s running out of land.”
“We’re way up here,” she commented, looking out down the landscape. “Where does he think he’s going?”
“I don’t know, but I—Look out!” Pace shouted as they rounded the blind corner and nearly slammed into the rear of the jeep.
Carla wrenched the wheel to the right, and her car skidded off the road onto the shoulder. She muscled it back to the left, and the car swung out over the open embankment, the rear wheels briefly losing contact with the ground.
Ahead of them, the jeep sped off again, while her car completed a full one-eighty spin and came to a halt facing the opposite direction.
Cursing their suspect, Carla got them turned around again and sped off. This time she was intent on catching the bastard. She would force him off the road if she had to, but he was not getting away.
“End of the road,” Pace muttered as they came around one more corner.
The orange jeep was parked parallel to the road, its right side facing out over the cliff. Carla pulled to a stop and opened her door, crouching behind it, weapon drawn.
“Driver!” she barked. “Come out with your hands up. Do not try to get away, or I will shoot you. Come out with your hands up now!”
“He’s not there,” Pace said, striding in front of her car with casual confidence.
�
�Pace. What are you doing! Get back under cover. This man is a murderer!”
She raced after him when he didn’t slow.
“He’s gone, Deputy,” Pace said in a tight voice.
It took her a moment to realize he was struggling to rein in his temper.
“How is that possible?” she asked, looking around and inside the jeep. It was empty. “Where did he go? Up into the mountains? There’s nothing here. We weren’t that far behind him. We would have seen him. There’s not a tree or boulder big enough to hide him this far up. Not in the time it took us to round that last corner.”
Pace had gone to the edge of the cliff and was looking out over it. He was standing precariously close for her comfort, but the wind and sheer drop didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.
“Where did he go, Pace?” she asked quietly, holstering her gun. He was right. Their suspect was gone. Like he’d disappeared. “Any ideas?”
“None that you would believe,” he said. This time, some of his anger did slip through. He was furious.
“What does that mean?” she asked, trying to understand just why Pace was so angry over this. He hadn’t done anything wrong. It was her driving that had let him get away. “Tell me.”
He sighed, shoulders drooping. “I don’t know. Maybe he had a hang-glider here already and went over the edge.”
Carla rolled her eyes. “If that was the case, we’d be able to see him out there still. Do you see anyone hang-gliding? Cause I sure don’t, Pace.”
“No,” he said quietly. “I don’t.”
“Alright. I’ll call for a tow for this,” she said. “While we wait, let’s search it. Maybe we can track where it’s been. Give us a clue.”
Pace didn’t move from his position at the cliff edge. “Yeah. Maybe,” he said quietly.
He was holding something back, she was sure of it.
But what?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Carla
“This sucks,” she said, unbuckling her belt and vest and tossing them on the table. “We were so close.”
“We’ll find him,” Pace said, doing his best to be reassuring.
It might have worked if he hadn’t been aloof and distant all day, his mind clearly somewhere else.
They had spent the rest of the day taking the car apart, examining it for any clues, and tracing the VIN number as well. To nobody’s surprise, it was stolen. Meaning they had come up blank, again. A day wasted.
She was running out of time.
“I should have caught him on the road,” she growled, angry at herself.
“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Pace said, coming over to her, seemingly concerned and present for the first time in hours. “You did absolutely nothing wrong. Neither of us were expecting him to take off like that, and you chased him up into those mountains like a pro. Nobody could have seen that move coming, nor his ability to disappear.”
“I should have,” she said. “It’s my job, Pace. It’s what I’m supposed to be good at. How can I say I deserve a promotion after something like this?”
“Because nobody else on your department is even giving a shit about this case?” he pointed out. “You are doing everything on your own.”
“Well, not quite on my own,” she said wryly. “I seem to have found a partner who wants to help me.”
“Maybe,” Pace agreed with a smile. It was the first time she could remember seeing him crack one since the car chase began.
“I’m going to have a drink,” she said abruptly. “You want a drink? I feel like I need to just relax, let my brain unwind and think about this from a different angle. Then something will come to me, I’m sure. I’ll figure this out. I always do. With you to help me, it’s a given!”
Pace shrugged. “Sure, why not. What ya got?”
“Wine, mostly,” she said. “Sorry, terribly cliché I know, but it is what it is.”
“Not a problem,” Pace said, his smile growing wider. “I’ll take whatever you’re having. I enjoy a good glass of wine too.”
Carla wasn’t sure she was going to stop at a single glass. Not after a day as frustrating as this, but she would worry about that later. Right now, all she was concerned with, was getting their drinks poured and served.
That done, she walked over to her couch in the adjoining living room and flopped down into a seat. Barton came over and climbed up next to her, immediately flopping down and presenting his belly for scratches.
“Well come on, don’t be a stranger,” she said, using her free hand to give Barton his (obviously) well-deserved belly rub. “Come sit somewhere. Unless you were going to just chug that and go.”
She wasn’t sure where the sudden bout of hospitality came from. There was something about today that made her not want to drink alone. Company would be nice, appreciated even, and when it was as pleasant a company on the eyes as Pace, well, certainly things could be worse. Right?
“Cheers,” she said, reaching out to clink glasses together. “You’re not such a bad detective there, Pace. Not so bad at all.”
He smiled. “Thank you, I guess.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t know.” Pace stroked his chin. “I’ve never really thought of myself like that. If I were to be truthful with you, I’ve always been the more numbers-oriented sort of person. Perhaps even a little nerdy.”
He looked down, and Carla realized that he was embarrassed about it. Oh, that’s adorable.
“You, nerdy?” she said slowly, looking him up and down. “Most nerds I know don’t have the body of a god.”
And they most certainly do not know how to kiss me like you did the other night…
Not that she said it out loud, where he could hear. That would have made things even more awkward.
Even more? Were they really awkward at all? Carla considered that internally. There really hadn’t been any sort of tiptoeing around one another that morning, which marked the first time they had seen one another since her cellphone had interrupted things. They had just dropped right back into routine, working alongside one another as if everything was fine.
Heck, maybe everything was fine. Perhaps Carla was just over-thinking things between them. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done such a thing. If Pace could play it cool, then she could too.
“Well, thanks,” Pace said after a moment. “I’m trying my best. I want to solve this case for you.”
“I appreciate that. I could really use it.”
He watched her over the rim of his glass. “Your career is really important to you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I love what I do, Pace. I love being able to help people that need it, and bring justice for those who have been wronged. It’s a satisfying feeling.” She shrugged, not sure what else to say.
“But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well you have no husband, you said, no boyfriend or mate. I know that you don’t need one, it doesn’t make you, but we’re social creatures. We need the interaction.”
Carla nodded. “I know. I’ve had…partners, I guess, before. Nothing serious. The career just sort of prevents that.”
“I don’t understand. Why?”
“Most of the men out here seem to have a problem with me being strong and independent. I don’t need them to survive. They’re pleasant and fun to have around, but men like to feel needed. I don’t need them.”
Pace was nodding slowly. “Wanting them around is another way of saying you need them though,” he pointed out. “Making you happier, making you laugh. Those are needs too.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed. “But again, we come back to me not generally needing them in life. They can’t handle that.”
He snorted into his glass. “Then they are dumb. A woman who can handle her own life is a treasure to be cherished. Truthfully, I find it rather hot.”
Carla bit her lip so hard she thought it was bleeding. “You do?” she asked, having to fight extra hard to keep the t
remor out of her voice.
Now where did that come from?
“Yes,” Pace said.
Carla didn’t know how to reply, so she just stared at him. Quietly.
Okay, now it’s awkward.
At the same time, they both shook the moment off and went to take a drink. Their eyes met, and they realized that the other was doing the same thing. That had them laughing together. The tension subsided. It was still there, but it was no longer controlling them. Just an undercurrent to the conversation, until one of them decided to pick it up again.
Carla considered that. The last two times, it was Pace who had taken charge, who had initiated, and it was she who had ended it. There was a growing part of her now that was wondering what would happen, right here, right now, if she took that tension and addressed it head on.
If she made the move.
Looking into her glass, she tilted it upward. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the long day, or maybe it was the way he wore that suit so well, hiding his body yet showcasing a frame that screamed athletic god.
“Pace,” she said, standing up, her voice dropping into that sultry, whisper-like tone.
“Yes?” he replied, watching her intently.
“Do you need a refill?”
There was a pause, and she heard him swallow.
“Yes.”
She walked into the kitchen, feeling her hips sway a little more than normal. A quick glance over her shoulder caught Pace staring. She grinned, and then winked at him to let him know it was okay when he started to redden a bit in the cheeks.
Maybe there was a bit of nerd in there after all. Carla was okay with that.
She went to pick up the bottle and pour herself some more, but before she could lift it, Pace stepped up behind her. His hands closed over hers, and together they poured a little splash into the bottom of her glass.
“You’re awfully close,” she said quietly.
“Mmmm,” Pace agreed, his face lowering to brush against hers.
She gasped softly at the touch. The scrape of her beard was rough, but not painful. Manly, she decided. That’s what it was, manly.
Then his lips found her neck. With her hair still up in its customary braided ponytail, she was fully exposed. Tremors raced across her collarbone and she moaned softly, tilting her head to one side, giving him better access.