On the Line (Out of Line Book 7)

by Jen McLaughlin

  On the Line

  An Out of Line Novel

  Jen McLaughlin

  Copyright © 2017 by Jen McLaughlin

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form of by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes, if done so constitutes a copyright violation.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Cover Designed by: ProBook Premade Book Covers

  Interior Design and Formatting by:

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-9907819-9-8

  Print ISBN: 978-0-9907819-8-1

  Created with Vellum

  This one goes out to my grandfather, who suffered from dementia in his last year. There isn’t a day we don’t miss you, Pee-Paw.

  Contents

  1. Sarah

  2. Ben

  3. Sarah

  4. Ben

  5. Sarah

  6. Ben

  7. Sarah

  8. Ben

  9. Sarah

  10. Ben

  11. Sarah

  12. Ben

  13. Sarah

  14. Ben

  15. Sarah

  16. Ben

  17. Sarah

  18. Ben

  19. Sarah

  20. Ben

  21. Sarah

  22. Ben

  23. Sarah

  24. Ben

  25. Sarah

  26. Ben

  27. Sarah

  28. Ben

  29. Sarah

  30. Ben

  31. Sarah

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Jen McLaughlin

  One

  Sarah

  The bloated, distorted features of the woman's face were almost unrecognizable. The sun shone off the waters of the bay, casting a cheery glow upon the otherwise dismal scene. Birds sang in the distance as a seagull sat on the hot sand staring at me, almost as if it knew that I felt as unqualified for this job as the man who had drove drunk and put this woman into the bay two nights ago.

  Swallowing hard, I glanced at the picture in my hand, then back at the pale, swollen face that had already become a meal for some hungry fish. Though it was almost impossible to distinguish one feature from the next, I had no doubt as to who lay on the shore. “It’s definitely Mary Hendricks.”

  Behind me, my male partner (who took the role of overbearing alpha male to a whole new level) shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet and scoffed. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” I said, tilting my head back to stare at the man who Captain had paired me with—more than likely, on purpose. Just to torture me. “Is there a problem, Rollins?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know how you did it in North Carolina, but in California? We usually wait for DNA or dental records to state who our victims are.”

  If I heard that phrase one more time, I was going to explode.

  Ever since I’d come back to California, everyone had been throwing my abrupt departure for college in my face, as if it had been a bad thing to spread my wings and go elsewhere for a few years. Everyone might not know it, but I had a pretty good reason for doing so, and if anyone should know that reason…it was my partner. I’d had a damn good reason for fleeing, and he knew it. Just like I had a damn good reason for coming back, after all this time.

  “We did the same in North Carolina, but in this case?” I gestured at the victim’s arm, pointing at the tattoo that said Girl Power. “I was with Mary when she got this tattoo, as well as the one below it.” This time, I pointed at the tattoo that had MLH in fancy scrawl. “Which literally has her initials on it, so, yeah, I’m going to go ahead and say that this is Mary Hendricks.”

  Rollins flexed his jaw, staring down at me. “Still, no official word will be spread until we get the results back from forensics.”

  “Obviously,” I said dryly, standing and swiping my free hand on my pencil skirt. I’d worn a light khaki colored one today, along with a checkered blouse. Every day when I dressed, I spent way too long agonizing over what outfit would represent the woman I was now—strong, empowered, independent, responsible—as opposed to the girl I’d been—irresponsible, reckless, wild. The girl who had gotten her heart broken, and run away instead of facing the pain.

  I wasn’t that girl anymore.

  Too bad no one else could see that.

  Rollins gestured to CSI. “It’s all yours.”

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling at them.

  None of them met my eyes. Typical.

  Rollins started toward our waiting car without waiting for me. I followed him, studying his broad biceps and even broader arms. Once upon a time, I’d clung to those shoulders as he kissed me sweetly and told me he loved me, but that had been years ago, when I’d been another person. I wasn’t that naive girl anymore, no matter what anyone else thought.

  Sliding into the passenger seat, I opened the file I’d placed on hold and set the photos inside it, scribbling my thoughts down on the legal pad. As I wrote, I could feel Rollins’ eyes on me.

  “What?” I asked, not lifting my head.

  “Why are you writing on paper? You’ll just have to do it again later.”

  “Because I don’t want to forget anything.”

  He started the car, shaking his head. “Okay.”

  I bit my tongue, refusing to rise to the bait. He’d been trying to get under my skin from the moment we’d been assigned as partners, and I wasn’t about to let him succeed. “I remember things better when they’re fresh in my mind.”

  “As I recall it, you never forget anything.”

  The sarcasm in his tone was impossible to miss. “I don’t forget things that are important to me, no.”

  “So, your job isn’t?” he immediately shot back.

  “I didn’t say that.” I set the pen down and looked at him. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Rollins.”

  He rolled his eyes at my use of his last name. In my opinion, just because we’d seen each other naked years ago didn’t mean we needed to be on a first name basis on the job. Not to mention that had been a lifetime ago, and I’d never make that mistake again. “As I recall, you hate it when I do that, too.”

  “Then don’t do it.”

  He shrugged. “What would be the fun in that?”

  The sun gleamed through his driver’s window, shining off his blond hair and almost blinding me. His jaw was hard, chiseled from stone, and he pressed his mouth into a tight line, like he usually did around me. His green eyes currently hid behind shades, but more than likely he’d narrowed them on the road as he gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles showed white. He wore a black suit with a white button up shirt and a sensible tie, like usual.

  It annoyed me how handsome he was, mostly because he annoyed me so much.

  “Do you get off on picking on me?” I asked, unable to help myself.

  So much for not taking the bait.

  His lips quirked into a smirk. “You know what gets me off.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  The smirk widened. “Oh, right. That’s one of the reasons we broke up—you never gave a damn
about what I wanted out of life.”

  And just like that, I lost my cool. Damn him. “As I recall it, we broke up because you—” I cut myself off. Not doing this. Not fighting with my ex. Nope.

  He slammed his breaks at the red light, swiveling to face me with flared nostrils. “Because I did what, Sarah?”

  “Light’s green,” I said dryly, arching my brows, refusing to answer him.

  He knew what he did. He just thought I didn’t know.

  He muttered a few choice words and stepped on the gas, his knuckles even tighter on the wheel than before. It was a miracle it didn’t break under pressure. “This is a horrible idea.”

  “What is?”

  “Us, together again.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “You need to ask for reassignment.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You can ask for reassignment.”

  “Why me?” he demanded.

  “Why me?”

  He pulled into the parking spot and slammed the car into park. “Because you’re the one who waltzed back into town, thrusting yourself into my life uninvited, and—”

  “I didn’t thrust into anything of yours.”

  Yanking his keys out of the ignition, he pressed his lips together. “I know. I remember that, too.”

  I closed my eyes and counted to three. It did nothing to calm me down. “I swear to God, Rollins—”

  “What?” He blinked at me innocently. “Too much?”

  I glared at him, saying nothing.

  “There’s an easy fix to this.”

  Gripping the door handle, I unbuckled and hugged my file to my chest. My heart beat hard against it, faster than usual. Probably because of him, which only made me angrier. He took his shades off, and the force of his eyes locking on mine almost made me hold my breath. Almost.

  “Oh yeah? And what’s that?” I managed to ask.

  “Do what you do best. Give up and walk away.” With that, he took his own advice, opened his car door, and walked away.

  If only it was as easy for me to do.

  Two

  Ben

  “It isn’t working,” I said slowly, staring at my empty beer with my jaw clenched. Ever since Sarah had come back into town, my jaw had been in a permanent state of tension. Now I spent most of my nights tossing and turning, torn between fantasizing about her soft lips and even softer hair, and wanting to scream at her to get the hell out of my town like she had ten years ago.

  “Well, duh,” my best friend, and old partner, said. “I could have told you that.” He paused, tapping his chin. “Oh, wait, I did tell you that.”

  “I told Captain the same thing, but he said that he was pissed the commissioner made him take her on, so the best way to scare her off was to pair her with the only person she hates more than him.”

  Hernandez snorted. “You.”

  “Yep, me.”

  “Yeah, well, your dad’s an asshole,” Hernandez said, grinning.

  “Yep.”

  “And so are you,” my best friend added helpfully.

  I shrugged. “Probably.” After a moment of silence, I added, “You know, she has yet to use my real name. Insists on calling me Rollins.”

  “We all use last names,” Hernandez said, frowning. “Hell, no one uses my real name.”

  One of our friends, and Hernandez’s old combat buddy, Finn Coram, slid into the seat next to us. He didn’t drink, so he was sipping on a coke instead of a beer. “Carrie does.”

  “Carrie’s the only exception,” Hernandez said. “How is she, anyway? And how’s Cory?”

  “Great, and great. He’s walking,” Finn said, grinning with pride. Carrie and Finn had been married for almost ten years, and were quite happily the parents of two children, one of which was a little over a year old. “And adorable as hell.”

  “Of course,” Hernandez agreed.

  I nodded, too. “Obviously.”

  “So what are we talking about?” Finn asked, settling in.

  “Ben’s ex, and how she calls him Rollins instead of Ben.”

  Finn frowned. “Don’t all cops do that?”

  “Yeah, but we haven’t all fucked one another, have we?” I shot back.

  “I don’t know,” Hernandez said his lip quirking up in a smile. “There was that one time where we woke up in that bed—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I growled.

  Hernandez laughed, but did indeed shut the fuck up.

  Finn arched a brow. “Man, I’d love to hear that story.”

  “Did she ever tell you why she ran?” Hernandez asked.

  “No, and I don’t give a damn,” I muttered. It was a lie. I gave a damn. How could I not? We’d been happy, and the high school’s IT couple. Everyone envied us, hated us, or wanted to be us. Then one day she just decides to stop talking to me, asks for space, and then moves to North Carolina for college after telling me she was done, with tears streaming down her face? Yeah. I cared. “It was forever ago.”

  “You totally sound like a guy who doesn’t give a damn,” Hernandez said dryly. His dark brown hair was as perfectly combed back as always, and his deep brown eyes were shining with amusement—again, as always. Despite his time in the Marines, and all the shit he’d seen overseas, there was nothing that my best friend couldn’t find humor in…including my current plight of being partnered with the one woman who had managed to break my heart.

  I flipped him off.

  Finn pointed at me, staring me down. “You totally want to know. Don’t bullshit us.”

  I said nothing.

  The bartender came over with our refills. Thank God. “Thanks, Molly.”

  She winked at me. “Anything for you, Officer.”

  “Detective,” Hernandez supplied helpfully.

  She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Hernandez opened his mouth, losing his laughing-at-the-world look, but Finn elbowed him. “Let her be,” he whispered.

  “She just said—” Hernandez started, gesturing at her angrily.

  “I know.” I picked up my beer. “Let it go.”

  “Whatever,” he echoed. Hernandez huffily picked up his Guinness, scowling at her back. “You’re not allowed to fuck her.”

  I choked on my beer, coughing.

  Finn burst into laughter. Half the feminine eyes turned toward him with interest, but they were wasting their time. Finn only had eyes for his wife. “Jesus, Hernandez.”

  “What?” Hernandez said innocently. “She’s been eyeing him for years. It’s no secret she wants it.”

  “Not interested,” I muttered.

  In fact, the only woman I’d been interested in lately was my reluctant partner. Too bad I’d already had her once, and she’d broken my heart. Why had she come back to Somerton? It was bad enough she’d run away in the first place, but then she had the gall to pretend it had been my fault that she decided she didn’t love me anymore? One day, we’d been happy and planning to attend college together. The next, she was asking for space, and then telling me she’d changed her mind, accepted a spot at Duke, and then she was gone.

  Just like that.

  She hadn’t even told me why.

  Four years of dating, dreams, and plans in high school—and I didn’t even get a fucking explanation? And yet I was the bad guy?

  “You have a thing for her still.” Finn said, breaking the silence. He gestured at Hernandez. “Just like this one and Marie.”

  “Fuck you,” Hernandez said, scowling, losing his jovial air for the first time that night. “I never had a thing for her, and still don’t.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Finn agreed, rolling his bright blue eyes.

  “She has to go,” I cut in, interrupting what would surely turn into a fight I’d already heard a million times before. It was an ongoing argument between the two friends, and had been for as long as I’d known them.

  Finn shrugged. “So get rid of her.”

  “I can’t.” I ran my hand down my face. “I told her to request a transfer. She refused.”


  Finn lifted a brow. “Then you ask for one.”

  “I did.” I frowned. “Dad said no.”

  You know, I didn’t even know why she decided to become a cop. Last I’d spoken to her, she’d been planning on a career in Psychology. Then, all of a sudden, she’s back and she’s my partner? How did that even happen? Why’d she change her mind? Oh. Right. That’s what she did. Changed her mind without warning.

  It was her thing.

  Hernandez set his beer down, his eyes shining in that way that could only hint that he was about to come up with a devious plan. Last time I had seen that look, the local high school mascot had ended up on the school roof—and no, we hadn’t been in high school at the time. Captain had been pissed. “So, make it happen.”

  “How?” I asked cautiously.

  “You two have history.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “Well, use it.”

  “That’s fucked up, man,” Finn said, whistling through his teeth.

  I stiffened, catching on to what he was saying. “No way.”

  “Why not?” Hernandez shifted closer, his eyes shining.

  “Because he’s not an asshole,” Finn answered for me.

  I pointed at Finn. “What he said.”

  “If Captain finds out you two are fucking, which goes against his policy, then he’ll have no choice but to reassign one—or both—of you. Or he may even terminate her employment.” Hernandez shrugged. “Maybe I’ll even get my partner back.”

  Finn shook his head, clearly not liking this plan.