Thicker than Water

by Danae Ayusso

  Colt leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve both changed, Jimmy. Even Vicks changed before she was taken from us. Don’t you see that? That’s what I’ve learned since coming down the mountain. I loved your sister, I truly did, but you know as well as I do that if we would have married we already would have been divorced in the first year, two tops. Neither of us wanted that for your sister. But it was only when I read her words, and saw how she perceived herself and the world through her eyes, that I grasped that we were doomed together. Maybe Ron loved her, could have loved her how she needed and wanted to be loved, or maybe he only wanted to take her virginity, we don’t know. But what we do know is that I wasn’t that Prince Charming she wanted and deserved,” he said and instantly thought of Cat. “I need someone that completes me because they complement me exactly how I am, who I am, and where I came from. They would embrace my dysfunctions instead of trying to fix them and wouldn’t need me to be the strong one and to make every decision, instead I could rely on them to do just that and when needed they could rely on me to do the same. And because they complement me, I complement them in return without either of us having to say a word.” That was exactly what he and Cat had, and it was what he’d been looking for his entire life without realizing it. “I realize that now, Jimmy. I realize that I needed more, and as much as I loved Vicks, that wasn’t Vicks and it never could be. You know this, admit it.”

  James made a face. “I love Vicks, always will, and that piece of crap Ron Hall wasn’t good enough for her.”

  “And neither was I,” Colt reminded him with a smile. “Why else would you have cock-blocked your sister?” he asked with a chuckle.

  James blushed. “I suppose. You forgive me?”

  Colt nodded. “Always. So what’s this I hear about a new place?”

  “I’m sure you won’t like it since its new construction and isn’t filled with custom woodwork, but I think it’s nice,” James said and put his cowboy hat on his head before slipping into his jacket. “Did you want to come over for the grand tour?”

  Colt looked at his watch. “Did you forget that Emma made dinner?”

  James pouted. “Yeah, I forgot. Afterward?” he offered.

  “We’ll play it by ear,” Colt said, motioning towards the door. “I have to speak with the tribal reps. Are they staying at Raven’s with the chief?”

  He made a face. “Yeah, they’re making my life a living hell. If I’m not careful, they’ll flood Eureka with rain for months.”

  “You don’t...never mind,” Colt groaned. “Can you give me a ride to Emma’s? I can pick my truck up tomorrow.”

  “Of course, Miss Daisy,” James said with a bow before Colt smacked him in the back of the head, knocking his cowboy hat off. “Ow.”

  “Smart ass.”

  “Why are we doing this again?” Salvati complained as he flipped through an old case file.

  Cat gave him a warning look. “Because One wasn’t his first. I know she wasn’t,” she reminded him. “This revolves around Fury; I know it does.”

  “Is he Pope?” he asked pointblank.

  She glared at him. “No. If you must know, he was with me when Six was killed.”

  “But you said it yourself,” he continued, “that Six doesn’t match up to Pope’s M.O. in the least. It’s as if it was a copycat trying to stash a body within the pile of unsolved murders.”

  Cat knew what he was doing. He was doing what she trained him to do—think like a Detective—but it didn’t make it any easier to sit through or to counter since she cared for Colt, the person Salvati was hinting might be responsible for the killings.

  “You aren’t going to shoot me, are you?” he asked.

  “No,” she huffed. “Not now that you mentioned it.”

  He chuckled, tossing the file in the discarded pile before picking up another. “What makes you so sure about him?”

  “My gut,” Cat said. “My gut tells me he’s not responsible, but I know I’m missing something that’s right in front of my face. I hate that, and I know it’s going to cause many restless nights...Frankie knew about those all too well.”

  Salvati nodded with a small smile. “He used to complain to Aunty Maria all the time that he couldn’t get a decent night’s sleep when you were having one of your gut feeling moments.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, he tried blaming me for his slutty ways.”

  “You can’t take responsibility for that one. He was always like that.”

  “I know,” she said, grabbing the next file. “Frankie was a horrible liar and was always making excuses that were as bad as his lying.”

  “Why did you two continue to live together then? Everyone was curious about that since you are polar opposites: you were up early and exercised, he stayed up all night and napped in the patrol car and drank too much and slept with every broad that crossed his path. He was family orientated and you were anti-family, for obvious reasons. He was religious and you loathed the church. Seriously no one understood how yous twos could stand to be in the same patrol car together let alone the same loft.”

  She chuckled. “That’s why we were able to do it: because we were opposite enough to work together but not enough to cause conflict. Frankie was the reason why I knew what love was, and that I deserved to be loved. The biggest regret I have is not telling him how much I loved him and how thankful I was for having him in my life.”

  Salvati nodded but didn’t say anything, there was nothing to say. Lieutenant Rossi was not known for opening up to people, even those she cared about and trusted, so Salvati was going to leave good enough alone and not press it because it meant a lot to him and his family.

  “These aren’t proving to be helpful in the least,” Cat complained, pushing the old case files to the side.

  “Siamo fottuti,” Salvati said, discarding the file in his hands to the pile with the rest of them.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” she said, putting the files in her bag. “If you want info back home, where do you go?”

  He looked at her curiously. “The streets?”

  “In not so many words, but in this case we go to the one person who actually hits the streets in Eureka.”

  Salvati smirked. “I like where your head is, Rossi.”

  “It’s Rogers, as in Roy Rogers, the king of cowboys. I thought it was fitting,” she said with a chuckle and he roared with laughter.

  They went from the public library where they had been working down the street on foot to the small newspaper that reported all of Eureka’s news. As they walked, Cat wrapped her arm through Salvati’s so they blended into the surprisingly crowded sidewalks.

  “Is it usually this busy?” he asked.

  “No…honestly, I’m not sure. I only come to town to escort Mrs. Paterson to church then to the market to get supplies.”

  He snorted. “Yeah right. Ninety percent of the crap you got in that cabin came special order through the mail. There’s no way the local market has formaggio contadino semigrasso di Lagundo, Boschetto al Tartufo, Formai de Mut dell'Alta Valle Brembana, Mozzarella di Bufala Campana…need I continue? Your cheese selection alone cost what I make in a month.”

  She smiled. “What can I say? I’m a spoiled Sicilian with amazing taste.”

  Salvati chuckled. “And that’s why you and Frankie got along so damn well: neither of you knew the meaning of humility,” he teased.

  “Minor details,” Cat said and pulled her vibrating cell phone from her pocket. She checked the message and groaned. “To answer your question about the full sidewalks, Fury says it’s something called the Jump into Spring Celebration and that I should head back to the cabin.”

  “Did you text him or something when I wasn’t looking?”

  “No, Fury seems to operate on the same level as I do so I usually don’t have to ask. Jimmy…Sheriff Lake and him went over to Mrs. Paterson’s for dinner and the old broad is forcing them to escort her to this thing.”

  Salvati nodded
his understanding. “I hate to say it, but seeing the townsfolk...” he tried to say with a straight face but ended up laughing so she elbowed him in the stomach. “Ow. Anyway, what I was going to say was maybe having two outsiders observe the locals might help point the investigation in a direction. Remember when Anthony Catalanotte went M.I.A. and everyone, even his own mother, thought he was dead in a ditch somewhere. Then, at his daughter’s wedding, that stranger danced with her out on the balcony and his two left feet gave him away and he was iced that night?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” she said, trying to forget in actuality, but he made an inarguable point. “Let’s hit up the newspaper before it closes and I’ll let Fury know.”

  “Damn. Yous twos are an old married couple now, huh?”

  “Don’t remind me,” she grumbled, letting Colt know that they’d meet him at the festivities after they made a couple more stops.

  ****

  “How was it?” Emma asked as she watched the mingling crowd in the grange hall hosting the celebration.

  “How was what?” Colt grumbled under his breath, well aware of what she was asking about.

  “You got laid. I can tell. So, how was it?”

  He groaned. “Emma, I’m not going to talk about that with you…you of all people! You’re a grandmother to me, and that isn’t something you talk to your grandmother about.”

  The old woman roared with laughter. “You’re no fun, my boy! Did Jimmy get laid?” she asked.

  Colt gave her a look. “How in the hell am I supposed to know? I didn’t sleep with him.”

  Emma snorted. “I’ve never seen him so social at one of these things,” she said. “Usually he pouts in the corner with a whole pie in hand, but he’s actually going around and talking to people. Do you think he’s finally trying to settle down? Or is he running for Mayor and someone forgot to tell me?”

  Colt didn’t know what had gotten into James either. As soon as they got there, he took off and started socializing with every woman in the place. Perhaps their talk at the station had cleared up some stuff between them and both of them could now move on with their lives. Colt had already moved on with his; he had Cat. Maybe it was time that James found someone as well.

  “Honestly, Emma, I haven’t a clue,” he admitted.

  “Hey Montana!” Salvati greeted with a face-consuming smile. “Is this how I wear this thing?” he asked, struggling to situate a white cowboy hat on his head so it was straight.

  Colt groaned and shook his head. “Emma, this is FBI Agent Donato Salvati; he’s helping on the Pope taskforce. Salvati, this is Emma Paterson, Sheriff Lake’s grandmother.”

  Salvati nodded. “Ma’am,” he greeted.

  Emma smiled and situated the hat on his head for him. “There, now you look slightly presentable. Maybe you’ll catch that sonuvabitch, Pope I mean, and put a bullet in his head for me. Come, let me show you around,” she said and held her arm out expectantly. “Since one of my grandsons is getting laid, finally, and the other is dry humping every brunette in the place, I might as well try to get my latest grandson laid as well.” She patted Salvati’s cheek with a smile.

  Salvati, not entirely sure what to think or do, but was warned ahead of time by Cat about Emma and her persistence, took her arm and escorted the old woman across the room to where tables were filled with food and surrounded by lingering women.

  Now that Colt was alone and Salvati was here, he looked around for Cat. He didn’t want her coming to this since it could expose her, but he couldn’t argue her logic on coming, not that he entirely understood it when she started talking about two left feet. But mainly he didn’t want Cat coming because he wanted to keep her all to himself.

  That’s actually a good idea, he thought and pulled his cell phone out and made a quick call.

  With his plans arranged, he just needed to run it by the boss for a final okay, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

  Never have I been romantic without guidance and lots of hints so hopefully I’m doing it right.

  Most of the people at the spring celebration Colt hadn’t seen in years, and more than one person came over and shook his hand and tried to play catch up, but it was more than obvious that Colt Fury wasn’t in the mood for small talk and was looking extremely out of his environment. Each person who gave him a second glance was added to the list he was making in his head, he also started compiling a list of locals who were between five-eight and five-eleven, slender build between one-sixty and one-eighty, size ten feet, who were right handed with slender hands…he wasn’t entirely sure how to gauge a man’s hands from a distance but he added it to the list, and who were between twenty-five years old and fifty.

  The list in his head exceeded thirty already, and the night had just began.

  “An Italian cowboy,” Cat huffed from behind him, her attention on Salvati and Emma. “He’s an idiot.”

  Colt looked over his shoulder at her and smiled. At first, it was difficult to see the Rossi through her nearly flawless disguise, but once she rooted herself in Colt’s heart, he no longer saw the pale makeup, murky brown contacts, or the short blonde wig. He could see through all of that to the medium olive skin tone beneath, the light blue eyes that standout against her darker complexion, and the thick black hair he can’t help but touch when she’s in her natural state. She was covered head to toe in a non-flattering outfit—oversized gray sweater dress over a black long sleeve turtle neck and matching fitted canvas pants, combat boots, her black leather gloves she never left the cabin without, and a black knit beret.

  To him she was standing there in only a bra and sexy thong, what he knew she was wearing under the unflattering disguise, and it was a more than an agreeable mental picture to start the night off with.

  “Fury, you’re staring and starting to get wood in public,” Cat informed him.

  Colt smiled wide. “Sorry. Salvati did warn you that he would get a souvenir from the land of the white man,” he reminded her.

  She joined him and looked around the packed grange hall. “Don’t remind me. You should see the five belt buckles he got for his nephews; they’re bigger than they are.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said under his breath. “Cowboys like them big and shiny. Did you get a souvenir?”

  “Do the bruises on my ass from a certain Detective’s hands count?”

  He smiled wide. “I suppose they do.”

  “How long before we can sneak off and pick up where we left off earlier today?” she asked conversationally.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” Colt informed her.

  This might work.

  “I hope not, that would be most regrettable… Huh, did Jimmy get laid?” she asked, her attention on James and the women, sisters by the looks of them, he was talking to. “When Emma dragged me to the Christmas thing, he just sat in the corner pouting with a pie. Now he can’t keep his hands off of anything with tits.”

  “Accent,” Colt warned under his breath.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said dismissively as she watched James move from one group of women to the next. “He’s a strange and very complicated man. Damn, my gaydar must be all out of whack because I could have sworn he was gay.”

  Colt shook his head. “Jimmy isn’t gay, but it almost went to blows at the station over Vicks’ diary.”

  “No shit? I take it you brought up the cock-blocking thing?”

  “That was one point of discussion,” he admitted. “He knew that Vicks was having feelings for Mr. Hall.”

  “And he didn’t tell you?” she asked.

  “No, he didn’t. Which is weird; Jimmy told me everything, even when I didn’t want to hear it. But obviously he wasn’t telling me everything when it pertained to his sister and our relationship.”

  Cat nodded her understanding. “Maybe you two should have taken it to the mattresses.”

  Colt groaned. “For the last time, he isn’t in love with me and doesn’t want to roll around in the sack wi
th me.”

  She looked over at him before she started laughing hysterically, effectively drawing the attention of everyone in the place. “That doesn’t mean hitting the sheets,” she whispered between bouts of laughter. “It means going to war with a rival Family. Fury, you crack me up.”

  “Glad I could be of service,” he grumbled, his cheeks flushing from embarrassment: he’ll never understand her lingo.

  “Did you talk to Mickey about his little uninvited visit?” Cat asked, looking around for the young man now that the rest of the department apparently showed up to dance and drink.

  Colt shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since the bar. From what the others said, he was really tore up about Raven and took off to clear his head. He should be back in a day or so. I’ll address it when I see him again, but I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

  “Interesting,” Cat mumbled under her breath.

  “Colt Fury?” a nasally voice called out.

  Instantly the small smile on Cat’s face fell and she snaked her hand behind her, but Colt smacked it away from her gun and shook his head.

  “Holy hell, it is you!”

  Colt nodded. “Melissa,” he greeted with a slight nod.

  Melissa Sanders smiled wide and wrapped her arms around him and Cat went to her gun with the left, but Colt made no attempt to return the embrace from the inebriated woman. “It has been years!” Melissa continued, oblivious to the glaring woman next to them.

  “I’ve been taking some time off,” he grumbled under his breath. “It was good seeing you.”

  Melissa grabbed his arm when he started to step around her. “Not so fast, Colt Fury. Now that you’re off the mountain it means you’ve moved on, right?” she asked, twirling a lock of her dark brown hair around her fingers. “Vicks will always be in our hearts, but she’s with our Lord and Savior now. She’d want you to move on.”

  Colt looked at the annoying woman, his expression as hard as stone and just as void of emotion.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard, me and Blake called it quits ‘bout two years ago,” she continued. “After he got hurt on the job, he started drinking more and more, and when his disability ran out there really wasn’t anything left to do then move on with my life. You know how that goes. Are you staying at the Paterson’s again in that cute little cabin on the river or are you still staying at your granddaddy’s cabin? Oh, here,” she said and held her empty beer out to Cat. “Be a doll and grab me another.”