by Regan Black
As he shifted to stretch out beside her, she stroked his hair back from his face. Though she tried, she couldn’t come up with adequate words to express this wonderful blend of physical satisfaction and inner contentment. Sex had never felt this...involved. It was as if he’d answered a question she didn’t know her soul had been asking.
He got up to dispose of the condom, pausing at the edge of the bed. “Your pants are glowing,” he said with a wink as he reached toward the floor.
Her whole body felt aglow after Antonio’s thorough attention and she appreciated that he didn’t mention it if he could see that, too. She covered herself with the sheet, taking her cell phone from his hand. Their fingers brushed, but the soft sizzle disappeared when she saw Troy’s name and personal number on the display.
Braced for the worst, she answered.
“Bowe is gone,” Troy said without preamble.
“I beg your pardon?” She scooped her hair back.
“Randall Bowe didn’t go out for a long lunch after we talked with him,” Troy explained. “He took at least a year’s worth of files and his hard drive, too.”
Shocked and furious, Melissa dropped the sheet, modesty forgotten along with Antonio’s presence as she dressed. “Tell me everything you know.”
The implications struck like hammer blows, one after another, as Troy listed the details he had. The hard copies for both the Paxton and Emerson cases were missing. No surprise since those were currently under a microscope. Bowe had vacated the lab and it seemed he’d fled town, as Troy couldn’t get an answer at the man’s house.
“Cell phone goes straight to voice mail. And nothing is showing up on tracking so far.”
“Keep trying,” she said. “Is Ellie around?”
“Yes.” She heard the squeak of Troy’s desk chair.
Ellie Bloomberg was the technology expert at the GGPD. If anyone could help them find a way to restore or recover the files Bowe had stolen, it was her.
“You’re on speaker,” Troy said. “Ellie’s here.”
“Hi, Chief,” Ellie said.
“Hi, Ellie. Troy will give you the details.” How to say it with Antonio hovering nearby? “We need you to start a recovery operation. When files are uploaded to our system, we back them up, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her instant confirmation gave Melissa hope that they hadn’t lost everything. She wouldn’t know how to tell Antonio they’d been pushed back to zero on the Orr case. “As I said, Troy will fill you in and I’ll be in as soon as possible.”
She ended the call and scrambled for clean socks, avoiding Antonio’s gaze. From her peripheral vision she knew he was dressed, but that was about it.
“Trouble?”
“Always.” She aimed a smile at him without really making contact. “Just a technology glitch,” she fibbed as she tied her boots. “We’ll sort it out, but I do need to go back in.”
“All right. I’ll drop you off and take your things on to the hotel.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about that. “I’ll need my car.” She looked up and his cool, assessing gaze was such a contrast to the earlier open warmth, she shivered. Once more, her career was taking precedence over her personal life. “I guess dinner will have to be another time.”
“No worries, I’ll handle it.” His smile seemed sincere as he knelt in front of her. “Have your patrol car follow you to the station. My security team is out there waiting for me.”
Embarrassment flooded her face as she imagined what his people and hers might be assuming, but Antonio didn’t seem flustered at all. He kissed her and helped her to her feet, pulling her close. If they kept this up, she’d never get to the station.
Would that be so bad? Tonight, yes. She removed her gun from the safe and blushed again. “This has to go, too.”
“Sure.”
He was taking this too well. In the past, when she changed plans or hurried away from a boyfriend, there’d been friction and bruised egos. Antonio, unfazed, carried her suitcase and the empty gun safe while she picked up her purse and coat and then set her alarm system.
On the porch, he hesitated, standing just a little too close. “Call me when you’re on the way to the hotel. Please.”
“I will,” she promised.
He gave her fingers a squeeze and then carried her things down the steps to the waiting car.
She felt effervescent and hoped the bliss coursing through her veins wasn’t too obvious on her face to the patrol team as she explained her plans. Worry was a lingering storm cloud in her mind, but not even Orr’s threats and antics could blot out the glory of being with Antonio. She watched him leave and mentally doubled down on her determination. The sooner she sorted out the current crisis, the sooner she could get back to Antonio and start defining whatever was blooming between them.
* * *
If anyone had asked, Antonio wouldn’t have been able to explain what was going on in his head when it came to Melissa. When she’d let him hold her and finally wrapped her arms around him, he’d felt an electrifying connection he’d assumed he’d lost forever. Melissa’s kiss had been fresh and exhilarating, and it scared him more than a little how perfectly they fit together.
One big perk about being the boss was no one questioned where or how he spent his time. As he took her things straight up to the suite, he hoped her officers extended her the same courtesy.
Something about her just struck a chord deep inside him, dredging up thoughts and feelings he preferred to avoid altogether. Did lust count as a feeling? There was plenty of that when he was around her and that scared him. At the taste of her lips, he’d forgotten all about Orr’s threats.
Not smart for either of them, and even more proof they needed the security his suite provided. If they lost focus when Orr could reach them, it could be a disaster.
Antonio had had enough disaster for a lifetime.
Surely it was the unexpected attraction and the constant togetherness that was throwing him off. Seeing her in that dress at the wedding had cast her in a different light, moving her out of the professional-associate category. He understood Melissa the Cop, or thought he had. Until the wedding that’s how he’d always seen her, whether she was on duty or just around town.
He smiled, imagining her reaction if he told her any of this. The clothing didn’t make the woman, but apparently, he was just primitive enough that the clothing changed his perception. Now that he knew what was underneath those clothes, he couldn’t wait to have her in his arms again.
Restless and hungry, he headed downstairs to his office. Waiting for her to call wasn’t going to bring her back any faster. He thought he’d demonstrated admirable restraint not asking about the call she’d received, but he couldn’t help wondering if it had something to do with Orr.
The man was planning something. That collage was a message and he hoped Melissa and her department were up to the task.
Antonio scrolled through digital media for any local news and checked his phone and email messages. Everything seemed quiet this evening, but he couldn’t shake this impatience simmering inside him. He wasn’t exactly worried about Melissa, but he needed an outlet, a more effective distraction.
No one in his employ had found Orr and no one in the local media mentioned his name. Was that good or bad? There was a brief story on the trouble at the chief’s house, but no real details. That was good news in his book. If he was going to protect her, or attempt a relationship with her, he wanted to make sure no one could criticize her choices.
Was he after a relationship?
The answer had been “no” since the day he’d lost his family. The answer had to remain “no” until he understood why Melissa stirred up those long-buried emotions. Until he could say “yes” without any doubts, he wouldn’t open himself to that kind of pain again.
Chapter 11
Unfortunately, the trial would resume tomorrow, based on the current reports. If Emerson’s defense attorney tried to call Bowe, that would be another black eye since he’d fallen off the radar. Naturally the man who processed evidence knew how to avoid leaving a trail. She didn’t want to believe the worst about Bowe, but his abrupt disappearance on top of the discrepancies made it nearly impossible to remain neutral. It stung to have relied so heavily on a man apparently capable of manipulating cases.
She’d spoken with Ellie and Troy upon her return, but they didn’t have anything to share yet. She’d skimmed through the initial reports of the officers who’d responded to the incident at her home. None of her neighbors had seen Orr or anyone else approach her side door.
Something had to give, and soon, or an innocent woman might go to jail and a presumed-guilty man would continue raising hell. She’d known the job would be a challenge, but this had to be a low point for anyone in her shoes.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she was supposed to be fixing a meal for Antonio right about now. He’d been so accepting of her running out, she wanted to make it up to him somehow. It had to be more than infatuation that made her want to go the extra mile for him. Although, maybe he wasn’t offended by the change of plans because they didn’t really have anything deep going between them beyond a common interest in catching Orr.
She bit her lip, impatient with her own uncertainty. It wasn’t like her to get swept away in a moment. She worried that talking about it would only make her look clingy. As resistant as she was to a conversation about feelings, it would help if she understood the expectations while hiding in his secure suite.
When her cell phone hummed against the desk, she rushed over, grinning like a girl in the throes of her first crush, hoping it was Antonio. No luck. Clarke’s face filled the screen. She answered, eager for some good news on any front.
“Melissa,” he said, his voice low. “I’m in the rear parking lot. I found someone who would like to speak with you. If your office is clear, I can bring my friend in through the back and avoid the media.”
“What’s this about?”
“We just need to have a casual conversation, that’s all,” he said.
That cleared up nothing. She glanced out her window, but Clarke wasn’t parked where she could see his car. Wary, Melissa thought of the protestors and media camped outside the station. It would be nice to give them some kind of positive update. Her brother rarely asked for favors, and when he did, he had good reason. “I’ll be waiting in my office.”
Clarke ended the call without another word. Melissa wondered what she was in for and found herself wishing it was news on Bowe. Hard to believe Troy would’ve reached out for Clarke’s help at this point. Whomever he was bringing in, if this casual conversation helped her put any open case into the solved column, she’d take it.
Clarke walked in with a woman that struck Melissa as being vaguely familiar. She appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties. Petite, with a short cap of dark hair and light brown eyes in a round face. “Come on in,” she said, standing as Clarke ushered the woman into the office.
He closed the door. “You might want Troy to join us.”
That set off more warning bells, but she called in her cousin and they waited in an awkward silence until he joined them. Troy’s eyes widened in recognition when he saw the woman with Clarke. “Stephanie Dunn.” His gaze locked with Clarke’s, then shifted to her, questions in his hazel eyes.
The name finally clicked for Melissa and she faced their guest. “You were the eyewitness in the Emerson case,” she said to Dunn.
“Yes,” the younger woman replied. “I was supposed to testify today, but court was delayed.”
Thanks to Hannah McPherson, Melissa thought.
“Mr. Colton...” Dunn’s eyes darted nervously between both men. “This Mr. Colton,” she clarified with a nod to Clarke. “He called me this morning about the case.”
“Why?” Melissa asked the room at large. She had a sinking feeling that no matter who replied, she wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation.
“Stephanie, just tell the chief and the detective what you told me,” Clarke encouraged her. “It’ll be all right.”
He really shouldn’t be making any promises on behalf of the department, but she held her tongue until she learned what they were dealing with.
“When Mrs. Emerson was accused of killing her husband, I told police that I saw her near the crime scene around the time of the murder,” Dunn began.
“I took your statement,” Troy said leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest.
“Yes. I’m sorry. Th-that wasn’t true. I’m so sorry.”
Melissa’s stomach cramped and she swallowed hard as her gaze dropped to her desk. The apology was practically useless. How had she let this happen on her watch? Anger slowly burned through her disappointment and her chin came up. She pinned Dunn with the hard gaze that left her most-seasoned officers quaking. “What is true?”
“I did not see anyone around the Emerson home that night. I lied. I wasn’t even outside.” She squeezed her hands together tightly in her lap. “I’m really sorry.”
“Why did you give a false statement?” Melissa snapped.
“Someone gave me a thousand dollars. I needed the cash. He said I wouldn’t have to lie in court.”
“Who?” Melissa demanded.
“I don’t know. A man...” Dunn looked at Clarke. “I gave Clarke a description of the man a-and the transaction.”
Melissa handed Dunn a box of tissues as she started weeping. “Sum it up for me,” she said to Clarke.
He jumped in. “She was approached, after Everleigh’s arrest, by a man she’s never seen before or since. No names were exchanged. Payment was handled online and she used the money to cover expenses on a recent fender bender. The man who approached her, however, was not the same man driving the car she bumped in a grocery-store parking lot.”
During Clarke’s recitation, Melissa watched Dunn nod along while blotting tears from her eyes.
“A setup?” She looked to Troy and Clarke. “From the fender bender on.”
Both men murmured in agreement. They were all thinking the same thing. Someone, likely the killer, had gone to great lengths to keep Everleigh in the hot seat.
“Payment was through an app,” Clarke said. “I’m looking into it, but so far nothing helpful.”
Melissa swallowed a curse. “They wouldn’t have made a mistake at that point.” She picked up a pen and drummed it against her palm, thinking.
“What happens to me?” Dunn asked, her voice small in the heavy silence.
Melissa exchanged a look with Troy. Her cousin shrugged. The decision on how to proceed was all hers. She pulled up Bowe’s department headshot and showed it to Dunn, ignoring the raised eyebrows from her cousin and brother.
“Is this the man who bought your testimony?”
Dunn studied the image. “It could be. He was pretty average in height and build. He had on a hat and sunglasses the one time he spoke with me.”
It would’ve been nice, but confirmation was a definite stretch. If she charged the woman, it would be public record and Stephanie could become a target of the person who actually killed Fritz Emerson. She wasn’t willing to put anyone else in jeopardy.
“I won’t press charges against you at this time,” she said at last. Dunn sagged with relief. “And you haven’t perjured yourself in the courtroom.” The woman should send Hannah a thank-you card for that alone.
“However, we will document this meeting,” she continued. “It sounds like you were targeted with deliberate inte
nt. You will stay in town and I advise you not to discuss this with anyone else.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If you feel tempted to go against those two directives, I suggest you reach out to Clarke first.”
“Okay. I will. Thank you, Chief.”
Melissa held her breath, afraid to speak until Clarke led Dunn out of the office.
“You all right?” Troy asked.
“Are you?” She stood up, antsy and searching for the right direction. “This all but confirms Everleigh is innocent and there’s a killer out there on the loose.” In all her years on the force, she’d never expected to deal with something like this in Grave Gulch. “Has Ellie found anything?”
“She will,” Troy said. “I’ll spare you the techno-speak, but she’s confident she can recover the files Bowe stole.”
“Good.” She’d had tough days on the job, but she’d never felt quite as ill-equipped as she did right now. Something was critically wrong with her forensics team. “I’ve only dealt with cases like this in a hypothetical ethics scenario.” She paused to take a deep breath. “How is it we’ve missed the right killer in two cases?”
“We were deliberately misled,” Troy said. “Now that we can see the facts and evidence clearly, we’ll make progress in the right direction. On both cases.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“What are you going to do?” Troy asked.
“The only thing I can do,” she said. “Make the calls.” He walked out and she closed her office door, keeping the blinds down for complete privacy. Her pulse pounded in her temples, but aspirin wouldn’t help this headache. At her desk she rested her head on her folded arms, waiting for the pain to recede. An innocent woman might have been convicted without her grandmother’s rash actions. What would it take to recover the community’s trust?