She struggled with words, her lips forming them but no sound passing along her vocal cords. “Wh-what?”
“Middle school. Late April. You yelled at me for embarrassing Jane Kingston.”
“You tried to look up her skirt,” Cici said.
“That’s when I fell for you.”
Her jaw felt as though it unhinged.
“I thought you should know when it happened for me,” Sam said.
“But…you…Aci…”
Cici’s brain must have misfired. The medication made thinking difficult. She wanted this conversation to be different. She wanted to be well, whole, wearing something much better than soft gray sweatpants and matching tee.
Maybe have on makeup and her hair done.
No way she was sitting here, her lips so chapped they might never stop peeling, with Sam admitting he’d loved her for nearly twenty years.
But she was, and he was looking at her like this moment was the most important moment of his life.
“Nope. I’ve always only loved you, Cici.”
Her fingers convulsed, gripping his shirt near the collar. Those words…she’d dreamed of him saying them to her. For years.
Sam shifted, his eyes growing heavier with some emotion that looked…it looked like sadness. Or maybe acceptance. The muscle in his jaw ticked. The five o’clock shadow darkened his cheeks.
“I promised myself as I drove to Chaco, hoping with everything in me that you were still alive, that I’d tell you. Then. As soon as I could.”
Cici continued to gape. Sam loved her? Then, she wondered as she had before, many times, why had he spent so much time hanging out with her twin?
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he continued. She felt his muscles begin to tighten. He was going to stand. To leave her.
“Sam.”
His name came out a plaintive note, as she tightened her grip on his T-shirt. Her mouth dried out and her pulse beat in her throat hard enough to cause her to shiver.
She whispered. “Holy shit.”
2
Cici
She was ready to deny the existence of space and time rather than admit that love might not be eternal. ― Simone de Beauvoir
* * *
His lips quirked upward in the barest semblance of a smile, but his eyes shuttered, and she felt him pulling away. She wanted to touch all of him, starting with his messy dark hair. But she couldn’t manage to release her grip on his shirt.
“I just needed you to know,” he said, his voice soft with regret, but his gaze steady. Sam was always so steady. “I needed to keep the promise because I made it to Anna Carmen.”
“You told my sister you loved me?” Cici asked, her voice rising.
Sam’s brows pinched over his nose. “Technically, she already knew. I mean, she’s known for years. That’s part of why she invited me over the first time… And she kind of…when we were up on Aspen Ridge Trail…”
Cici grumbled about her twin sister, whom she called Aci, and her ability to keep secrets—so much better than Cici’s capabilities. Then, the rest of what Sam said hit her.
“I knew you saw her there.” She shifted closer to him, then winced when her ankle, wrapped in its boot, slammed into the top of her coffee table nearly oversetting her glass of tea. “What did she say?”
Sam took a long drink from his second beer. Faint lines appeared around his eyes, feathering out.
“She said I needed to tell you.”
Cici pulled him closer until they were nose to nose. She studied his eyes and realized he was upset. Not because he loved her. No. Well, crud. She hadn’t said it back. He must think she didn’t feel the same way.
She pressed her weather-roughened lips to his, wincing a little at the contact. But the slight discomfort didn’t stop her. No. She’d kissed him once before—rather, he’d kissed her after pulling her to safety up on Aspen Vista.
And she’d wanted to kiss him again, many times, since that fateful day when Cici discovered her sister’s killer—and nearly fell off the side of the mountain.
He let her brush her lips over his. He let her pull back. Sam was like that—allowing her to take the lead when she needed to.
“Sam, oh God. Sam.” Her chest heaved. “I love you, too.”
He smiled. Then, he used his free hand to pry her fingers from his shirt and dislodge her fist from the base of his neck.
“That makes me really, really happy,” he said.
“I’m sorry I nearly choked you.”
He chuckled as he shook his head. “Your excitement—and your swear words—have been duly noted.” He leaned in closer. “I’m going to kiss you again.”
“Okay.”
He did. She kissed him back. He eased from her mouth, his hand still tangled in her hair. She blinked at him, trying to keep her eyes open. Damn pill.
He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “We’ll pick this up in the morning when you’re more awake.”
Her eyelids slid closed against all her efforts to keep them open. But there was one more thing she needed to say.
“I’m so happy,” she mumbled.
“I am, too.”
“Stay with me. Please. I don’t…” The yawn nearly split her jaw. It definitely split her lip.
“Always, Cee,” he said, his voice soft, lulling her further into somnolence. “I’ll always be there for you.”
Cici fell asleep on the couch, her head resting on Sam’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart, and she felt safe, cherished. She melted into the moment with a deep sigh of contentment.
It didn’t last.
3
Sam
What did my arms do before they held you? ― Sylvia Plath
* * *
He sat at the breakfast table the next morning, watching Cici putter around. She’d slept well, and her hazel eyes appeared clear. The nicks on her skin were fading, as were the bruises—those to a sickly yellow.
A thud at the door caused him to jump. The dogs scampered toward the front door, barking. A bit late in Sam’s opinion.
“Paper?” he asked.
“Should be,” Cici replied. She shut the fridge and picked up her coffee mug. She winced as she walked—more like hobbled—toward the front door. Sam opened his mouth to call her back but decided against it.
Cici needed to be independent.
He heard the door open, then shut. The dogs’ toenails clicked over the floors as they paced back to the potential interest of human breakfast.
“You’re the only person I know who still gets the print edition,” Sam said.
Cici stared at an article as she settled into her seat across from him. “I like to support the local community. Plus, this is how I find out I need to visit my congregants. Oh, no.”
Sam’s shoulders bunched. “What happened?”
“Drowning. In a rain barrel.”
“Well, hell. That’s horrible.” He frowned. Most of the rain barrels were about fifty, maybe sixty gallons and were not much wider than a human body, maybe four feet tall. How did someone fall into one?
Cici nodded. “Poor Cooper. He and his son must be devastated.”
“Cooper Urlich?” Sam asked. “He’s the big dude, right? I always thought he played football in college.”
“Rugby,” Cici said, distracted. “You know how lots of colleges have teams.”
Cici spread out the page between them. Sam read the scant details. Cooper’s wife, Patti was found dead in a barrel he’d brought into the garage to keep it from freezing.
The working theory was that Patti fell in trying to remove a drowning animal but then couldn’t extricate herself. Cooper stated his son saw a cat in the garage soon after Patti was found.
“He lashed the barrel to the wall to prevent it from tipping over on Jay,” Cici murmured. At Sam’s look, Cici said, “Their son. I believe he’s still three. In our pre-K class.”
He picked up his coffee and took a long swal
low.
Cici sighed as she glanced at the clock. “I can’t imagine—such a horrific accident. I’d like to stop by to offer what support I can.”
Sam nodded. “Of course. I’ll drive you. But first, I’d like to check on a possible appeal for a case.”
“Oh? What case?”
“One I closed before I moved up to Denver. His name’s Shayne Rudder. He was convicted of selling unregistered DIAS, which can convert semi-automatic weapons to fully automatic weapons.”
“Like a machine gun?” Cici asked, shocked.
“Yep, which are still illegal in this country.”
Cici frowned. “But not semi-automatic ones?”
“Nope, that bill expired. Anyway, he received ten years per DIAS.”
“What is Dias?”
“Not the last name. D-I-A-S is an abbreviation for the Drop in Auto Sears. He’d sold four, which was less than the guy who sold nineteen a couple of years ago.”
“Huh. That’s…that’s disturbing. I had no idea there was a way to make guns even more terrifying.” Cici shuddered.
Sam glanced up, his sharp gaze missing nothing. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I want to make sure he doesn’t get off. He’s bad, bad news. We proved the DIAS sales, but I’m pretty sure he was involved in other crimes, too.”
“Other crimes…like what?”
Sam hesitated. “Child pornography.”
“How horrible,” Cici breathed out. “I’m glad he’s in jail.”
“Me, too. I hated I couldn’t get him on the porn charges. But, from what we could tell, he wasn’t directly involved. At least nothing we could make stick.” Sam glanced up with a slight smile. “That was the first time I met Evan, actually. He was Rudder’s defense attorney.”
Cici wrinkled her nose. Sure, she knew that’s what Evan Reynolds did for a living, but she preferred not to think about his clients.
“Don’t worry, Cee. Evan was glad to lose that particular case. I want to touch base with him about the appeal.”
Evan was her twin’s former fiancé. While they’d had some problems after Anna Carmen’s death, he was now a good friend. She’d confided in Sam that she wished her sister had the opportunity to live a long and happy life with him.
“Does that mean he might not file one?” Cici asked.
Sam shrugged. “It means I have to make a call, then I’m at your disposal.”
Cici’s eyes lit with mischief and a smile curved her lips before she winced. She dabbed a napkin at the drop of blood seeping from the cut on her lower lip.
“You know, I really would have liked to take better advantage of our newfound relationship,” she said.
“Newfound?” Sam asked. Something shifted in his belly. Something that felt an awful lot like concern. “What’s changed?”
Cici canted her head. “Well…” Her face suffused with a deep crimson and she fisted her hands. “I…um…well, I guess I assumed since you…”
Sam leaned forward and clasped her fist in both his hands. “We’re still us.”
“Yes, but…” She started to nibble at her lip as she stood, shaking off his hands. “I’ll get dressed.”
She took a few unsteady steps, thanks to her broken ankle, before Sam caught a glimpse of the tears in her eyes. Oh, hell. Today, she was the one in need of reassurances, and he’d left her twisting in the wind.
He reached out and caught her wrist for the second time. Her bones were delicate, almost fragile. That daintiness was derived from too much stress and not enough to eat over the past week, but Sam, more than anyone, understood Cici’s internal strength.
He’d be sure she ate well and continued to rest. But first, they needed to finally clear any possible misunderstandings and potential pitfalls in their relationship.
She tugged once, hard. Sam didn’t tighten his grip but he didn’t let her go either. Her shoulders heaved.
“What?” she asked.
“I meant every word I told you last night.”
Her eyes flashed up to his. He smiled at her as he rubbed his thumb over the soft skin on the inside of her wrist.
“I love you, and I want a future with you.”
“Okay.” She drew out the word. “You’re making me nervous.”
The dogs scratched at the back door, whining. Cici extricated herself from his hand, and he let her. She traipsed across the small kitchen and opened the door so the dogs would go out, smiling when Rodolfo yipped with joy as he and Mona tore past her into the small yard.
“I’m scared,” she said toward the door. She turned to face him. “About your new job. I…”
Cici’s nose wrinkled as she trailed off. Sam felt his gut settle. Good. She wanted to talk.
“I’m worried about you working with Jeannette.” She looked down at the floor, and Sam’s stomach unknotted.
“You don’t need to worry about me working with Jeannette. I’ve waited far, far too long for a chance with you to
screw that up.” He paused.
She raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “My dad and KaraLynn started their affair while they worked on one of their cases together.”
Those words cost her. Cici didn’t like to discuss her relationship—rather, lack of one—with her father. But it weighed on her, and he knew she was thinking about it now.
Sam smiled, thankful she’d expressed her concern to him. He’d worried she wouldn’t be willing to open up about her past much—not with the change in their relationship so fresh.
“I remember. I was there, too. And, yeah, I get why you’d worry about it. But I don’t want you to. Even when Jeannette and I dated…”
He held his gaze steady to hers. “She wasn’t you.”
Cici’s lips turned up even as she raised an eyebrow, trying to appear stern. “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything else?”
Sam shot her an exasperated look. “No. Just so we’re clear: we’re together. Exclusively.”
He waited for her affirmation. With her nod, a large weight eased off his chest. “And I want everything with you, when you’re ready.”
“Everything?”
“Marriage, kids, the white picket fence. Everything. When you’re ready.”
Cici’s eyes lit up with a happiness that had been missing from her expression for far too long. “I don’t think we can do that,” she said.
Sam opened his mouth, but then shut it. As he expected, she shook her head as she chuckled. “We live in Santa Fe, Samuel. We don’t do picket fences. An adobe courtyard, sure.”
He snorted, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You are such a pain in the ass.”
She sobered. “You will still live in Santa Fe with your new job, won’t you?”
“That’s my plan, though it looks like I’ll be traveling for a bit. This—you—will be my home base.”
There was never going to be a good time to bring this up. At least now they were sort of on the subject. “Look, there’s something more important than Jeannette that I need to tell you. She suggested I not tell you, which is why I am telling you. She’s a great agent, but she’s not good with people.”
The sparkle in Cici’s eyes faded. He hated that.
“What is it?” she asked, tone cautious.
“We’re going to Scottsdale,” Sam said. His lip twitched a little, as it always did when he was more stressed than he wanted to let on. Hopefully, Cici hadn’t picked up on his tell. “To investigate your father’s firm.”
4
Sam
I’m not going to die, I’m going home like a shooting star. ― Sojourner Truth
* * *
Cici clumped back to the table and settled in her seat. She licked her lower lip, no doubt further drying the skin there.
“Can you tell me why?” she asked.
“No, I can’t.”
She scowled. “Is Jeannette going?”
“Yes, and she’s former DEA. Well, technically, she’s still DEA.” Sam stared hard.
“
Drug Enforcement. So…what? You think my father’s running drugs? Like the one you busted here?”
That case led to the identification of Anna Carmen’s murderer. It had also put Sam on the national stage, which led to his current position on this new governmental task force.
“I’m really not sure of the details. All I know, really, is what I told you.”
She blinked at him before her mouth parted in a little O. “And you’re worried I’ll be upset with you. For doing your job.”
Sam ran his hands through his hair before he linked them between his spread knees. “I worry about a repeat of the situation with Baby Isabel. You were so angry with me and I really did think I was doing the right thing, trying to protect her from her father.”
Cici’s face softened. “I know. You thought he was abusive. Poor Henry. They’ve had a rough year. But Izzy’s doing great now. And Grace has recovered. I’ve enjoyed seeing them at church.”
Sam smiled but it slid from his face quickly. “Working that kidnapping was one of the worst times in my life. I hated not being able to talk to you.”
She turned to look out the window, and he followed her gaze. A cyclist zipped down the street. A mother pushed a jogging stroller past as Cici continued to stare—and process.
She turned to face him again, a decision stamped on her features. Her eyes were clear, and Sam felt his heart lurch.
“My father is many things. He cheated on my mother, and he pretty much left Aci and me behind. All for his career. That’s been his great—maybe his only real—love. So, I find it hard to believe he’d be involved in something shady, let alone illegal.”
Sam’s muscles bunched. She was going to tell him to get lost, to stuff his new job and his love, and…
“But if he is—if he’s hurting people, he needs to be brought to justice.”
Sam slumped in his chair as relief caused his limbs to loosen. “I’ve been worried about telling you,” he said. “How you’d react.”
A Revelation of Death Page 2