More Than a Lawman

by Anna J. Stewart

  “Exactly what you did that night. Get in your car.” Allie opened the door and waved her inside. “Don’t overthink anything, don’t force it. Just sit there for a moment and try to clear your mind. I’ll guide you through.”

  “I can’t remember the last time my mind was clear.” Eden slid in behind the wheel and, because she needed to hold on to something, gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles went white.

  “That’s why I said ‘try.’” Allie squatted beside her, keeping herself between Eden and the open door, a reassuring hand on her arm. “Now close your eyes. Relax. And focus on the sound of my voice, Eden. There you go.”

  Eden felt herself slipping, letting go of that control that kept her upright most days, and put her trust in her friend. She could hear Allie’s voice as if from a distance, leading her, encouraging her as time slipped away. “Tell me, when is it where you are.”

  “Friday night.” Her voice sounded strange; remote. Detached. “It’s late. I’m late. I hate being late.”

  “Why are you late?”

  “I stalled. Because I’m tired of arguing all the time. Tired of defending myself.”

  “Against Cole?”

  “He thinks I’m reckless. Careless. He thinks I don’t care if I live or die.”

  “We both know he’s wrong,” Allie said. “How do you feel?”

  “Angry. Frustrated. Distracted.” She wanted to focus, but her mind wouldn’t lock on to anything. “I’ve missed something. The case is at a standstill. Not even writing my last blog post broke anything free. I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so’ from him. I’m thinking maybe it’s time to stop looking for the Iceman. But I can’t. I don’t quit.”

  “So you’re defensive from the go. Let’s accept that and move forward. You’ve parked your car. You turn off the engine. Look around, Eden. What do you see? Anything odd or unfamiliar? Something that shouldn’t be here? Open your eyes and look.”

  “I don’t—” Eden shook her head as she blinked open, a slight haze coating the cars in the parking lot, the barely there overhead lights that offered none of the protection promised. “I can hear music from Monroe’s. Jimmy Buffett. And...cars.” Eden could hear paper rustling from beside her. “Not many. Slow night.”

  “Can you see the makes and models? Plate numbers? Take your time. You’re safe here.”

  “Um, yeah.” Eden’s pulse picked up speed as she recited the car information. She looked into the rearview mirror. “Wait. There’s something shiny and white against the wall. Back there.” She leaned out of the car and squinted at the gray brick building a good forty feet away. “It looks cold.” Eden shivered. What was it?

  “Is it a vehicle, Eden? A truck or a van?”

  “No. No, it’s...” A delivery vehicle they could trace. Her heart skipped a beat. “In between. There’s a logo on the side, big letters and a picture, but it’s dark. I can’t see what it is.” She glanced upward. “The streetlight above it is broken.”

  “So let’s see if we can get closer. What did you do after you got out of the car, Eden?” Allie backed away as Eden shifted her feet free.

  “Got my purse out of the backseat.” She pulled her seat forward and reached for the bag that wasn’t there.

  “Do you see anyone around you? Hear anyone?”

  “No. It’s quiet except for the music.” She sniffed the air. “I smell something. Alcohol. Strong.” Her eyes burned with the memory.

  “Beer? Wine? Can you identify it?”

  “No, not drinking alcohol.” She pressed her fingers under her nose. “It’s medicinal. Like peroxide.” She choked as the smell reached into her throat. “Now there are heavy sounds. Getting closer. I’m locking the door and I hear it behind me.”

  “Footsteps? It’s a person?”

  “Yes.” Eden started to shake. She closed the door. The light in her car went out. Something solid locked around her throat, stopping the air in her chest. Eden reached into her purse, searching for the strap of the Taser she carried. She tried to bend forward, to dislodge her attacker, to bring her arm up so she could elbow whoever it was behind her. “Can’t breathe,” she gasped. Her purse dropped, her belongings scattering on the ground, under the car.

  Tires screeched; a car door slammed. Angry voices. Cole’s voice. No. That wasn’t right. That hadn’t happened. Cole had been waiting for her in the restaurant. She felt herself pulling free of the hold, her mind clearing as the fog of memory lifted.

  “No, Eden. Stay where you are. I’m right here. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Cole, shut up,” Allie said in a tone Eden had rarely heard her friend use. “Eden, you’re safe. We’re right here.” Eden felt the arm tighten, a stabbing sensation striking her in the side of her neck. Her legs went numb. She dropped to the ground, felt the cement break her fall as she stared blankly into the coming darkness. Gasping, she clawed her fingers into the ground, tried to lift her head.

  The streetlamp blinded her. She wanted to blink but she couldn’t. She ducked and shook her head to focus. Dark fabric over shiny shoes. Weird shoes. What were they? Not boots. Not loafers. Thick. Squeaky. She reached out, or attempted to, but her arms were frozen.

  “Can you see him, Eden? Can you see anything?”

  The light dimmed as she felt herself pulling free of the past. There. She gasped. For a moment, she saw the white vehicle she’d seen here the night she was kidnapped. Slick white, coated in red.

  She pressed her lips together, a sob catching in her chest.

  “Okay, Eden.” Allie’s voice again, soft, commanding. In control. That was right. Allie was here. “I want you to come back to me now. Focus on my voice, on what I’m saying to you. I want you to remember where you are, that you’re safe and that you’re with friends.”

  The darkness abated, shifting her back to reality, to the parking lot as it was now, onto the ground next to her car. Eden dragged in a harsh breath, as if surfacing from a mile-deep dive. Had Allie brought her a pillow? She shifted her cheek against soft, worn fabric.

  Strong hands stroked her hair. She saw Allie crouched on the ground beside her, concern shining in her dark eyes.

  “Hey.” Eden managed a weak smile. “Wow. You know how to work the hypno-voodoo. Talk about sensory overload. I need to sort through all—” But Allie was too far away to be touching her hair. She shot up, head spinning, and found Cole had been sitting beside her. “Um.” For the life of her she couldn’t decipher his expression except to suspect she wasn’t going to like what came next. “I guess you got our note.”

  “Yeah. I got your note.” He shoved to his feet, barely giving either her or Allie a second look as he brushed off his pants.

  “Cole, we had it all under—” Allie took a step back as Cole shook his head. “Okay, I see you’re upset. I can respect that.”

  “I don’t care about your respect. When are the three of you going to clue in? There is no control where this case is concerned. Her, I get.” Cole jerked a finger at Eden, who shuffled her feet even as a fragment of the fear she’d been struggling with the last couple of days faded. “But you, Allie? I expected at least some coherent thought from you.”

  “There was plenty of coherent thought.” Allie planted her hands on her hips and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “There are three of us, remember? Simone was here if we needed—”

  The three of them turned toward Allie’s car. Simone lay on her back, passed out, legs hanging out of the car.

  “Well, shoot.” Allie kicked out a hip. “That’s so inconvenient.”

  Eden couldn’t help it. She laughed. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth as Cole spun on her, eyes blazing.

  “Can you drive?” he asked.

  “Better than you,” she countered, even as her hands continued to tremble. “You want to help us get Simone—”

  “F
igure it out yourselves.” Cole stalked over to his car and wrenched the door open. “It seems to be what you’re best at.”

  * * *

  “You didn’t have to follow me home.” Eden jingled her keys in her hand as she climbed out of her car while Cole slammed out of his. She’d forgone her assigned parking space, something she was sure her homeowners’ association would send her a notice about. “And stop glaring at me like that. It wasn’t like I was alone out there.” She could practically hear his teeth grinding as the motion lights snapped on. “You’re just mad because your pizza’s cold.” She gasped as he locked his hand around her upper arm. “Cole—”

  Whatever else she was going to say got caught by his mouth as he kissed her. She could taste his anger, feel his frustration as he took charge, his lips demanding of her, a moment she slipped into more easily than she would have liked. She clung to him, her fists gripping the front of his shirt as she matched him stroke for stroke, breath for breath until he broke off. But he didn’t release her. If anything, he brought her closer and pressed his forehead against hers, holding her tighter still.

  “How do you think I felt,” he whispered in the glow from the living room light streaming from inside her place, “when I got here and you were gone?”

  “I thought we’d be back—” she tried to explain, except there wasn’t an explanation. Not really. She knew she would upset him, but she hadn’t cared. Or had she? She knew how to deal with a Cole who was angry with her. It was a familiar dance. She licked her lips. Until he’d changed the music.

  “You didn’t think at all,” Cole muttered. “How can you, of all people, not think of the consequences, Eden? You know what can happen. That you’d just walk out of the house, leave all the lights on, doors unlocked—”

  “Wait—what?” Eden planted a hand against his chest and pushed back. “What do you mean I left the lights on?” She dived for her door and squealed when Cole dragged her back. “You didn’t do this?” she asked and pointed through the window.

  “The lights were on when I got here. The front door was practically standing open.”

  “I locked up, Cole. I swear I did. Call Allie and ask her if you don’t believe me. I was complaining because the new key stuck in the lock.”

  Cole pulled out his gun, released the safety and lowered it to his side.

  “You want me to call for backup?” Eden dug into her purse for her phone.

  “Maybe.” He gestured for her to unlock the door. “You do exactly as I say.”

  “As long as your orders don’t require me to hide in my car while you check my house.” She jutted her chin out for good measure.

  “Stay behind me, understand?”

  Eden mimicked his footfalls, scanning her living room as they ventured to the stairs. It didn’t take long to search the bedrooms and bathroom; one of the advantages to having a small home. Downstairs didn’t reveal anything except...

  Her entire body went cold as she picked up the padlock. “Did you do this?”

  “That’s where I found it. I assumed you’d taken Allie and Simone downstairs.”

  “No. Simone made me lock this before dinner. Someone’s definitely been here.” Forgetting the promise she’d made, Eden darted out of his grasp and raced downstairs, heart pounding, eyes blinking against the harshness of the lights she clearly recalled turning off. She scanned the space.

  “Anything missing or moved?” asked Cole as he joined her.

  “Not that I can tell.” Eden hugged her arms around her torso. The photos on her board were how she’d arranged them; Cole’s stacks of papers still clung to the edge of her desk. The blankets lay huddled on the sofa right beside the—

  Eden swallowed the rush of nausea that had her knees going weak. “The candle.”

  “What about it?” Cole followed her stare to Chloe’s illuminated picture.

  “I watched Allie turn it off before dinner.” That someone she didn’t know would have touched her memorial made her so angry she could barely stand. “Unless you—”

  “It’s not my place.”

  That he understood the sanctity of that photograph loosened something fragile inside her. “Cole?”

  This didn’t make any sense. Why would the Iceman have broken into her house and turned on the candle only to leave all her notes undisturbed? But who else could it have been? No one else knew the significance of that picture. No one except...

  Eden lifted a hand to her throat, clenching her fingers to stop herself from trembling. It couldn’t be... It wasn’t possible... After all these years, it couldn’t possibly be Chloe’s killer. Could it?

  “Pack a bag, Eden.” Cole reengaged the safety on his gun before he locked his hands around her waist and pushed her toward the stairs. “You’re coming home with me.”

  * * *

  “Can’t you just check me into a motel or something?” Eden sighed as Cole parked in his assigned space at the Crest View Marina just off the Garden Highway. “Or anyplace that doesn’t wobble?”

  Cranky Eden had reemerged in the time it took for him to collect her files from the basement, stashing whatever he could fit, along with the boxes Jack had brought them, into the back of his SUV.

  There were many facets to Eden he’d gotten used to over the years, most of which flipped every switch he possessed. He’d lost count of her idiosyncrasies. But there wasn’t anyone else who could make him question the oath he’d taken, the rules he’d vowed to obey. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let this maniac come near her again.

  As relieved as Cole was to witness another flash of vulnerability—albeit less heart-wrenching than seeing her in the emergency room—he almost preferred Eden in fight mode. He knew from experience fighting him was the best way to make that happen. “You’ll have your sea legs in no time.” He pushed out of the car, the dim light battling against the even dimmer bulbs of the overhead streetlamps.

  “That’s not the sea. It’s the Sacramento River.” She clutched her zip-up sweatshirt closed as she joined him and grabbed her bag out of the back. “I need a place to work. How can I spread out on a dinghy?”

  Dinghy? Wow, this woman could try the patience of a saint. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He stacked two boxes and hefted them from the trunk. “I’ll come back for the rest while you’re...acclimating.”

  “I was out of Dramamine,” she called out as she walked behind him, dropping heavy feet against the narrow planks toward the edge of the dock. “I’ll probably puke first thing.”

  “Just aim over the port side.”

  “You see the irony in this, don’t you?” Eden hurried to catch up as he headed for his boat. “Do you know how many serial killers use boats to stash their victims? You could just be making it easier for him.”

  “I’m certainly not making it easier on me.” He took a deep breath and reminded himself this was Eden’s pattern when it came to fear. She struck out at whoever was closest. It was easier than surrendering to it. Sometimes, though, he wished she’d try letting the fear win. Just once. For variety’s sake, if nothing else. “Come on, Eden. I know this isn’t ideal, but you’ll be off the grid here when you’re not with me or at the station.”

  “How about you strap an anklet to my leg and track me like a poodle?”

  “Don’t think the idea hasn’t crossed my mind.” The empty slips surrounding his boat reminded him how isolated they were out here. Drought aside, this particular marina had never been one of the more popular ones. And while his boat exceeded the length limit for most of the skiffs, he’d worked out a deal with the owners, who liked being able to claim a member of local law enforcement as a tenant.

  As far as he knew, he was the only owner who lived on his craft, and not many boaters even ventured this far down the river for longer periods of time than a weekend. Cole, on the other hand, loved it. He
knew every sound possible in this place—the lapping of minuscule waves, the lack of electrical buzz, aside from the generator, which hummed to life thanks to his solar panel system. For him, there was nothing more comforting than the creaking of the beams, the gentle rocking motion, the promise of solitude and peace.

  Eden had her basement.

  He set the boxes down on the deck bench and took a cleansing breath. Cole had the Cop Out.

  “What’s this?” Eden stopped short of stepping over the railing, spinning around, frowning as she searched their surroundings. “Where’s your boat?”

  “Oh, this is something new we do at the marina. We just take the first one we like.” He held out his hand to help her over the side. “What do you think I’ve been doing the last five years, Eden? I told you I was restoring her.”

  “But...” Awe shone in her eyes and lightened his mood. “But this is beautiful. Classy. You let me believe all this time—”

  “You could have come here anytime, Eden. You weren’t interested.” Not that it bothered him. Much.

  “Yeah, well, clearly I’m an idiot.” She grabbed hold of his hand and leaped onto the deck. “Or you’ve been holding out on me.”

  “We’ll call it even. Let’s go.” He pulled open the hatch, flipped the switch on the underside and motioned her inside. “I’ll show you to your cell.”

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stunned her into silence. For a few moments, the specter of fear and worry that had plagued him the last few days vanished as he watched Eden set foot inside his home.

  Cole wasn’t an arrogant man. There was, however, one thing he took an inordinate amount of pride in: the Cop Out. He’d stripped it bare and refinished the gentleman’s cruiser from bow to stern with the best he could afford. From the polished wood cabinetry that matched the wooden trim and deck, to the marble countertops and higher-end appliances, to the large-stall shower in the bathroom he’d purposely expanded. The boat wasn’t merely a place to live. It was his passion, his hobby and, given the amount of money he’d sunk into the ’60s cruiser, his retirement.