“Sir?”
“What’s your gut telling you about what actually went down?”
Reggie shifted in his seat, his belted holster of police gear creaking in the process.
When Reggie didn’t answer, Bell continued. “Listen. I wasn’t born a detective and spent more than a few years rolling my beat in Grand Junction before I sat the exams. So I know there’s the shit you put in a report and the stuff you leave out. The crap your insides tell you, but your captain would raise holy hell over, if put down in black and white on a permanent record. But it’s that portion I need to hear from you. What did your gut have to say about the break in at Miss James?”
Reggie thought back to that night, bringing to mind the condition of the door and the mess inside. And as he parted his mouth to affirm it was just a standard snatch-and-grab, his brain had a different idea. “It was staged.”
“How so?”
“Her office was the perp’s main area of focus. They wanted her laptop and there was something about the printer…” Reggie closed his eyes to review one specific memory in sharper detail. “The little door for the memory card looked like it was broken before the printer was shoved off the desk. All the other things were done to cover his initial goal.”
When Reg opened his eyes, Bell was smiling. “There we go. Anything else?”
“Found it strange the bedroom and bathroom were untouched.” Reggie swallowed, surprised he remembered so much, but then again it was Zee’s sister. The one woman he’d been asked to keep an eye on for years and years.
“Hold on a sec,” Trusdale intruded, his face bent to his own laptop. Truthfully, Reggie was jealous these guys got their own computers since he had to share one with half the squad room, sometimes waiting a half-hour or more to be able to type up whatever had gone down on his shift. “The lab in Cortez sent an email for the results on the fingerprints. Let’s get Ram out here.”
Reggie was surprised the other detective called their chief by his first name and even more stunned when his boss’s boss came to join them. Reggie made to stand, but Patel waved him back into his chair. “What’ve we got, boys?”
“A fourteen point match to one Manfred Delmar Jones,” Trusdale replied. “Seems this guy had some trouble in New Mexico, lots of arrests for various types of mayhem. But the only thing that stuck and earned him a nickel was for a conviction of Man Two. Was out in three for good behavior and then fell off the radar.”
Patel leaned over Trusdale shoulder. “Kept his nose clean or just moved on to green pastures? Interesting to note his address then was listed as belonging to one Branko Milosevic. Do we have a photo?”
When Bell got up and circled to stand next to Trusdale, Reggie did the same. And couldn’t help blurting out, “But that was more than thirty years ago. Why would his prints show up in Grantham so many years later?”
Three sets of eyes came his way as Reggie wished he’d kept his fucking mouth shut.
“Which is why technology is our friend,” Bell offered with a chuckle, immediately putting Reggie at ease. “Once everything was loaded into a national database, we can go decades back to identify shit and the people who did the doings whether it was in New Mexico or Maine. Cool as hell, yeah?”
Reggie could only nod as his eyes went to the screen as a mug shot appeared of a thirty-something year old male. The fact the guy was nondescript wasn’t a shock and only added to Reggie’s belief that most real criminals did everything they could in order to blend in. It wasn’t the strange hair or tats that marked someone as a suspect—rather it was the ones who were forgettable in both appearance and mannerisms who were the most dangerous.
“So the ass-hat is either in Grantham or was here recently,” Patel said on a thoughtful tone. “Why don’t we see if we can get a match with the viable print lifted from the old James’ murder scene?”
Bell nodded and went back to his desk. “I have a friend at the lab who owes me a favor. Let me call and see if I can collect.”
“Which means you used to date her, right?” Trusdale’s light teasing tone belied the tension each lawman was giving off. Receiving a one-fingered salute in reply, Trusdale’s attention went back to the photo. “What if we used that new age-progression software? It might give us an idea of what the douche-bag looks like now.”
“Good idea. As soon as you have it, set it up on one of the ‘Person of Interest’ fliers and distribute it both via email and around town.” Patel took a step back and nodded at each of the men. “Appreciate your help, Gianetta. Anytime you’re ready to take the detective exam, let me know.”
Reggie stumbled through his thank-you and made to leave since he had nothing to add to the investigations the two dicks were working to tie together.
Wait ‘til Livie hears about this, his mind crowed as he walked to the other side of the building, keeping his eyes firmly off the Chief of Police’s windowed in office. Because to look would only help cement his new ambition of sitting in a different area of the police station.
And he needed to talk it over with his beautiful and amazing wife before fully entertaining the idea.
*.*.*.*.*
Even though I’d texted Zee at the end of my time with my girls (which included a couple of pitchers of Margaritas) where we’d culminated our day at Enrique’s for dinner, Rio was the one who actually came to pick me up.
Earning me a lot of ribald and more than naughty comments from my sisters. But I took them in stride as I left, because I’d known those girls a long damn time and could hear a note of jealousy in their jibes. Especially when Rio didn’t approach, but rather stood leaning against the back of his truck with muscled arms crossed over his wide, chiseled chest, feet planted as if to secure himself against nonexistent gale-force winds.
Yeah, he looked nothing short of screaming hot.
But even better was how his eyes remained focused on me as I made my way to him. At how they roamed over my face and body with every step I took, and how the heat of his gaze began to glow in the deliciously secreted places of my body.
“Hey, soldier boy,” I called from about ten feet away. “Looking for someone?”
“Used to, spitfire,” he shot back in a voice of deep, manly velvet. “Have stopped searching since I found her.”
My feet stuttered to a stop about two feet away from goal as his words hit my brain. “Wh-what?”
“Used to search for just the right girl, one who I liked and who’d put up with me and my shit.” His gaze speared me and wouldn’t let me go. “One who needed me as much as I’d need her. A woman who didn’t put on an act or play dumb just to get her way.”
What. The. Hell?
“A female who was both sexy and smart. Who would challenge me and make me think, but who could rock my world between the sheets.” Was he serious or just freakin’ deranged, completely out of his gourd?
Closing the distance between us, Rio claimed me by my hips as our bodies touched and our eyes remained glued to one another. “And now that I’ve found her, I ain’t ever letting her go.”
I parted my lips although I didn’t know what was gonna pop outta my mouth. So I closed it again.
“You can take that shit to the bank, princess.”
I blinked before his head descended, seconds prior to him claiming my lips right there in the Enrique’s parking lot for any and all to see. But as his tongue invaded my mouth in a singularly suave and sexy move, I forgot where we were and who had ring-side seats. Couldn’t think of anything except the way he kissed me, the feel of his wide shoulders under my fingers, the promise of his words which both delighted me and scared me to freaking death.
It wasn’t until he broke away that I heard the catcalls and whistles of my friends. All because I’d performed a very public display of affection with my man of the moment in front of them. But was I embarrassed?
Not at all.
They were only giving voice to the fireworks shooting through me. “What does all that mean, big guy?”
&nb
sp; “Let’s get in the car,” he offered, pressing his forehead to mine and giving me a gentle squeeze. “We can talk about it later.”
I didn’t want later. No, I needed him to tell me now. But one thing I’d learned about the former Ranger, the man who shared my bed and who I’d let breech the ramparts of my heart, was once Desidario Ironcloud made his mind up, there was little I or anyone could do to change it.
Therefore I felt more than a little off-balance as he lifted me up into his truck. Rio, though, kept our conversation light and on the individual happenings of our day as we made our way home. “Did you find a dress?”
“Yeah, I did. And might even have picked up a new client since the Sierra behind Sierra’s Bridal Boutique doesn’t have a website, but wants one.” I turned to look at him instead of the twilight of late dusk filling our portion of the Colorado sky. “What about you? What did you get up to today?”
“Finished putting together the contract on the thing I started in Denver.” He flicked on his indicator and made the turn before continuing. “Hired Zee. Met with Max, Cruz and Ryker in order to negotiate the budget for my department.”
Wait, what? “You hired my brother?”
He smiled at the road before glancing my way. “Yeah. With his experience and qualifications, he’s a perfect fit for Black Ice.”
Geez Louise. My heart was beginning to label the half-Native American/half-Italian as ‘my hero’ which was accompanied by a mental image of fluttering eyelashes and deep, girly-type sighs—a projection my mind fought like hell. Time to turn the conversation.
“I spent the morning scanning and enlarging the pictures of my parents. Made enough copies to paper the walls of my condo, but managed to slip Zee a couple.”
Rio reached out and gave my thigh a squeeze. “Glad for you, Von. So damn pleased you and your brother reconnected.”
Shit. He wasn’t doing anything to help dispel the tender feelings my heart was churning out by the dozens. “Thanks,” I grumbled, moving my leg away from his hand. “But stop being so nice.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I already like you, so cease and desist from trying to impress me more with all your wonderfulness, soldier boy.”
Pulling into one of the visitor spaces, Rio started chuckling. A sound which grew in both volume and mirth as he turned off the engine. I just watched him, something that only made him laugh harder every time he glanced my way—to the point he started hitting the steering wheel with his hand while muttering, “wonderfulness,” through his rolling huffs of hilarity.
When he finally had his shit together (and by finally, I mean a long freaking time), he disconnected my seatbelt before pulling me into his lap. Momentarily stunned by his quick action, I couldn’t even rally a grunt of protest as he again pressed his forehead to mine. “God, Vonnie. Can you be any more perfect for me?”
Say what? I just wanted him to shut the hell up and he countered by calling me perfect? Was he kidding? “You can stick a sock in it anytime, soldier boy.”
“Sorry, spitfire. No can do,” he replied, his voice much quieter than his laugh had been. Then he sobered and stared deep into my eyes. “I love you.”
Everything inside me went to stone, up to and including my involuntary bodily functions such as breathing and blinking while my brain replayed those three words—those goddamn, earth-shattering three words, over and over. Searching for all meaning in them, both the good and the bad.
But really, I didn’t know since I had no experience with emotions along those lines.
Not from people I’d allowed into my inner circle, anyway.
And most definitely not from a man.
A man like Rio.
“Breathe, babe,” he offered encouragingly, with a hand to the back of my head as he pulled my face into his neck. “It’s okay. Everything’s all right.”
How’d he know to stroke my back, hitting all the places guaranteed to help me calm my shit down?
I wanted to shout out something, anything to refute his words—some kind of sentence that began with the word, “but”. Yet I couldn’t since I was still working on being able to coherently think, to function at some level of normal.
“Just wanted to tell you how I feel,” he murmured into the top of my head. “You don’t have to respond or say a fucking thing. I just needed…”
I waited to hear the rest, my nose in a spectacularly wonderful spot where I could smell his skin, hear his words and feel his ever-increasing heartbeat thrumming against my cheek.
“Just wanted to get it out there,” he concluded, his rough voice so very tender and at a volume meant only for my ears alone. “Take it as a confession, or maybe a warning of where I want us to go. But you don’t have to say anything back. I’m not looking for more than you’re comfortable giving, or willing to accept, my fiery princess.”
I didn’t think it was my imagination the very day Rio’d shown up at my door, the moment I’d opened my home to his dog, he’d invaded my walls. Inveigling himself behind the thick, bricks I’d shored up around me year by year. The ones that’d taken me so long to build, ensuring I kept myself apart from others.
Including even those I truly valued and cared about.
So all I could do was nod, a small up and down shift of my head against Rio’s skin.
And worried he’d mistake my response (which was, as ever, weak as shit where he was concerned) for a lack of feeling. I’d never told anybody I loved them. And to be honest, I wasn’t even sure what ‘love’ felt like or meant.
But I could give him something.
Something true and real in the whole of what he’d admitted.
“Thank you, Rio,” I started on almost a whisper. And knew I owed him more, much more in the whole scheme of things. “Thank you for telling me. It really means a lot.”
And he let me know my response was more than okay when his arms tightened around me.
Allowing me to finally breathe and blink as my body demanded.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rio awoke to find he was caging Vonnie’s body, pressing her into the mattress. Even as her sleep-induced mewls about being left behind and Pookie protests at his girl’s distress became the actual sounds awakening him. But as soon as he recognized what was going on, he made the moves he’d discovered comforted his spitfire, running his hand along the length of her spine and crooning soft words of encouragement.
And in that case, did the trick in taking her out of her nightmare.
But it was only half the battle, in his opinion.
She was still having her dreams of abandonment which he suspected was more of a memory with all he’d learned from Zee about how he and his sister parted so many years ago. And Rio didn’t have the skills or the knowledge to eradicate them. To make them go away and no longer haunt her and, as her bed partner, him. Although he wanted to and would’ve given his left nut to do so.
Moving his hand from Vonnie’s back to PK’s fur, he attempted to calm the tiny dog even as he realized the little mutt was just as attached to his princess as he. Something he hadn’t counted on.
Not in the whole of learning to love Miss Veronica Millicent James.
Oh yeah, he’d been just as stunned by his confession as she’d been when the words just tumbled up and out of his mouth, stark and bald in the cab of his truck. His frickin’ truck, for Christ’s sake.
True, he’d known she was growing on him, capturing his interest unlike any of the other women he’d encountered since his break with Tiffany, way back when. And to his heart and mind, the place Vonnie held was in a deeper place, a more permanent part of his heart he’d didn’t even know existed. That was, until it was filled—completely loaded with all that was just…her.
Christ, the truth of it was, Rio was just as shocked by his feelings as she’d appeared to be when he’d finally confessed them to her out loud.
But he hadn’t lied.
His princess didn’t need to feel or admit to feeling the same. Because�
��it didn’t matter. What was in his heart were his own feelings independent of whatever she felt for him. Completely separate from what filled his insides when he greeted her, talked with her or just watched his Vonnie being Vonnie.
Yet he’d felt it growing over the last week.
Oh fuck, yeah, he felt it every time she moved her body, stepped another direction or shot off another zinger guaran-damn-teed to make him argue a point. But that argument was done with delight, with awe as she zagged when he zigged.
When she’d admitted his were the only hugs she suffered in her attempt to remain resolutely alone. That, in and by itself, told him more than he needed to know of what they’d built between them in only a handful of days.
“Spitfire,” he uttered softly, his lips against the silken heat of her neck. “Time to wake up, babe.”
“Hmm,” was the only reply from her mouth, but her fulsome ass pressed back against his morning wood. Something he couldn’t help and, with her in his life, Rio didn’t even try to hide. And found him hunching to squash the hardest part of himself more thoroughly between her cheeks. “Early. Too damn early, Rio.”
“It’s seven-thirty, babe. Your brother will be here in less than a half-hour.”
“Make him coffee. Stall him,” she mumbled into her pillow. “Jus’ need another hour or so, Ree…”
God, she was scintillating wet and so very soft compared to his hardness. “Princess?”
“I love it when you call me that,” she murmured, rolling more onto her belly and lifting her hips in nothing short of an invitation.
One that hit both his balls and head at the same time.
Without considering his moves, Rio followed her into position, aligning his pulsing spear with her quivering entrance as one hand snaked around to capture the fullness of a breast as the other sank between her legs.
“Oh, baby,” he growled as his helmet hit the object of its desire, the cavern of his want. “Need you. Need to love on you, hard and deep.”
Vonnie: Book Two of Broken Girls Series Page 23