The Wolf at the Door
Page 22
“...so I’ll see you then,” Jefferson was saying.
Cooper tuned back in. “Wait. What?”
“You really are out of it this morning, huh? I said my plane lands three hours from now and you better be there to pick me up.”
“You’re coming here?” Cooper said, swinging his legs out of bed.
“I told you. Santiago’s not happy with how long this is taking. I convinced her to send me up.”
“What about Bethesda? I thought you were going after that kid—” Cooper racked his head for a name “—Pultz.”
“He’s long gone,” Jefferson said. “Besides, someone’s got to keep an eye on you. My partner is up to his neck in wolves.”
Cooper didn’t know what to say to that. A couple vulgar responses crossed his mind, and he snorted.
“What’s wrong?”
“What? Nothing,” Cooper said, and then startled when he heard his room door unlock. Before he could react, Park stepped inside.
He had showered and changed. His hair was still slightly damp. The smell of soap mingled with caffeine and Cooper realized he was holding a tray with to-go cups. Park froze when he saw Cooper was awake and looking at him. He smiled a little hesitantly and gestured to the coffee.
Cooper blinked and nodded.
“It almost sounds like you don’t want me there, Dayton,” Jefferson was saying.
“That’s not true,” Cooper hedged. He accepted a hot coffee from Park and took a bracing sip. Black, as he liked it. “I’m glad you’re coming. I’m just...surprised. I thought we were supposed to be trying out this—” Cooper shifted uncomfortably “—ah, alternative partnership thing.”
He grimaced at Park a little apologetically. Park smiled faintly back, then pulled an unopened water bottle from his jacket pocket and offered it to Cooper as well. Cooper’s head throbbed Morse code for salvation is nigh.
“And I told you that I was going to be watching your back,” Jefferson said. “It sounds like you need me there more than ever. Now, will I see you in Portland or not?”
“Of course, Jefferson. I’ll see you soon.” Cooper hung up and quickly chugged the water. Park had backed away and now sat quietly on the end of the bed watching Cooper out of the corner of his eye.
“Thanks. I needed that,” Cooper said, putting the empty water bottle on the nightstand. “And this.” He gestured at the large coffee.
“No problem,” Park said.
“Jefferson’s flying into Portland in a couple hours. I need to pick him up.”
“Jefferson?”
“My partner. My BSI partner,” Cooper added hastily, and then could have kicked himself. As opposed to what, Dayton? What, are you worried he’s going to think you’re not single? Want to make sure he knows you’re available for seconds? Is he?
“Anyway, apparently our supervisor is sending him up. More manpower,” Cooper babbled. “The powers that be want this case closed already.”
Park nodded seriously. “That’s...good.”
“Yup.”
An awkward silence settled over them as Cooper sipped the coffee. Was Park going to say something about last night? Was Park waiting for him to say something?
Cooper hastily got out of bed and remembered too late that he was still naked. Not that Park hadn’t seen it all, of course. But now, with the warm morning light filling the room, sober, his dick still sleeping it off softly and Park fully dressed, he felt a hundred times more exposed.
“I’m, uh—going to shower,” he mumbled, and resisted the urge to run to the bathroom.
If Park responded, Cooper didn’t hear it as he hastily closed the bathroom door and started the water.
“Oy vey,” he muttered under the cold spray.
It wasn’t that he was a stranger to casual sex. Hardly. Nor was his sexual interest in Park a surprise. He was not quite so self-repressed to deny that. Whatever his other feelings, he had been physically attracted to Park since the moment he saw him on the metro.
The intensity of the night and the...wanton abandon he had felt was a little surprising, and a lot embarrassing. But Cooper was happy to chalk that up to the gin.
The disturbing part was, while some of the night was still a bit fuzzy, he could distinctly remember deciding against hooking up with Park. It would be a bad idea, if not a catastrophic one. But not only had he done it anyway—initiated it even—there were parts of him that felt almost smug about the whole thing.
Absurd. Because whichever way you turned it, this had been a mistake.
Hadn’t it?
He and Park were in the middle of a trial partnership that could determine the future direction of the BSI and change wolf relations as they knew it. All eyes would be on them. One particularly observant pair of eyes was flying up to join them at this very moment.
The thought of it was enough to slap that stupid smug smile right off his face. The idea of working this case with both Park and Jefferson felt a bit like introducing his boyfriend to his father.
Except Jefferson was not his father. He was his mentor and friend whom Cooper was supposed to be impressing with how well he could run a case on his own.
And Park was not his boyfriend. He was a representative of the Trust, a political player with his own report to turn in evaluating the efficiency and professionalism of the BSI and whom Cooper had drunkenly thrown himself at and proceeded to sloppily rut against and push around and—god, bite? He was remembering biting now.
Cooper groaned, and even if Park could hear him there was no mistaking the sound as anything but dismay.
Especially not now that he knows what you sound like in bed, Cooper thought, and then banged his head gently but repeatedly against the shower wall.
When he finally finished showering and returned to the bedroom, he was surprised to find Park still there.
It must have showed on his face because Park looked a little embarrassed and quickly said, “I thought we should make a plan for today before you left for Portland.”
“Right,” Cooper said. “Good idea.”
Despite what he’d said, Park didn’t seem to actually want to talk. He watched Cooper move around the room, getting ready for the day, his eyes jumping from the scars on Cooper’s belly to his face and then away. Back to the belly, face, then away, et cetera. It was a complicated hopscotch of meaningful glances Cooper couldn’t keep up with. He began to feel self-conscious and resisted the urge to cover the scars with his hand.
Park had avoided touching them last night, Cooper remembered that now. Even with all the caring and sensual attention Park gave to his torso, he’d managed to skate around the four thick ropes of scar tissue. Not in a way that Cooper had noticed in his state last night, but he sure as hell noticed now.
Was Park disgusted by them? It seemed hard to imagine the unflappable Park seeing Cooper’s unattractive scars and feeling...flapped.
Still, Park could hardly miss what they’d come from. Maybe that was what bothered him. An ugly reminder of their roles, always, quite literally, between them. The thought flipped Cooper’s already tumbling stomach, and he grimaced.
“How are you feeling?” Park said.
“Like my guts and head are conferencing behind locked doors and deciding on a counterattack.”
“Oh,” Park said. He looked troubled. “I didn’t think you’d drank that much.”
Cooper shrugged. He shouldn’t have been drinking at all. He realized now he’d still been in a little shock. But he was a big boy who could make his own big mistakes, so he wasn’t sure what Park was getting worked up about.
“Jefferson and I will probably check in on Eagler while we’re in Portland. Hopefully she’ll be awake and up for some questions.”
Park nodded. “I’ll get a team back to Baker’s to check out the hole.” He paused. “Could you give me a ride to the station on y
our way out of town?”
“Of course.”
And that was about all the planning there was to do. They slipped into silence again.
Park seemed uncharacteristically hesitant and uncertain this morning. Cooper could feel his gaze like a physical touch. Of course, Park was always watchful in one way or another, but now his looks were different. Guarded and defensive in a way that only seemed to highlight the presence of vulnerability underneath. Like an open wound wrapped in bandage, too raw to touch.
Cooper reached out to touch him anyway. Did it without thinking. A gentle brush of his hand across Park’s upper arm. He lingered there.
“Ready to go?” he said gruffly.
Park didn’t flinch exactly, but his skin seemed to quiver under Cooper’s palm with a tentative tenderness, like he was unsure whether to lean into the touch or away.
Cooper was shocked to realize he wanted to kiss Park. Not the sloppy battle of lips and tongues and teeth of last night, but a simple firm press of lips to lips to chase the quivers away.
He released Park’s arm and stepped back, clearing his throat a little. He had his own soft spots to protect, after all.
Park stood. His neutral and untouchable expression had slid back into place and his amber eyes cooled and hardened. There was something caught deep in the amber though, an almost wistful regret.
It struck Cooper again that untouchable could also mean lonely.
“If you are,” Park said.
If I’m what? Cooper wondered before realizing Park was just answering his question about being ready to leave. He tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment.
* * *
Jefferson’s plane was late getting in, which gave Cooper enough time to get another coffee, an egg sandwich and catch up on his emails. He sent a long, overcompensating update to Santiago, sufficiently nervous about Jefferson’s claim that she was “not happy.”
Then he called the hospital. Dr. Lin informed him that yes, Jenny Eagler was awake and could be questioned. But not for long. She was very weak.
Still feeling unusually communicative, he sent a quick text to his young neighbor Ava asking how Boogie was doing. It was amazing to him that a twelve-year-old had her own phone, but it was certainly convenient. Plus Ava had been the one to get him to start using emoji, though he wasn’t sure if he should thank her for that or not.
The airport coffee was weak and Cooper regretted forgetting the one Park had brought him in the motel. He wondered where Park had gotten it. It had been the best coffee he’d had in a while. His egg sandwich was even more bland and Cooper ended up just tossing what was left. He was supposed to eat a lot of protein to compensate for his smaller bowel, but he was too jittery. Besides, his belly was quieter than usual. Aside from the usual hangover queasiness, that is, it almost felt normal.
He was trying to find more information on Miller’s background with little success when Ava sent a picture text back of Boogie looking slightly less grumpy than usual and then several more texts giving an overly detailed play-by-play of her eating habits. Boogie’s, that is.
Cooper wondered if he was the only one overcompensating for guilt. But more likely it was just Ava being Ava. He didn’t understand why she always sent a thousand little texts rather than put all the information in one long message. She didn’t understand why he used commas.
His phone buzzed again and he almost ignored it—not, in fact, caring whether Boogie was unimpressed by the new herring-and-chicken combination two days ago but seemed to be warming up to it now—but the text was not from Ava, it was from Park.
Cooper opened it quickly.
Christie’s alibi checks out. Heading to Baker’s now.
Cooper stared at the text for a while. Christie’s alibi? Right. They had talked about that sometime around Cooper’s fourth g&t. Who hadn’t fallen under suspicion last night? He shook his head.
Cooper had typed and deleted four different responses when he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder.
“Jefferson.” Cooper quickly shoved his phone in his pocket. “Good to see you.”
“Good to be here, kid. Bad news?”
“No. Why?”
“You were glaring at that phone like it was your new stepdaddy.”
“Oh. No, just—Jenny Eagler’s awake. I figured we’d head over there first.”
“The abducted woman? I thought you said her case was unrelated.”
Cooper ran a hand through his hair and stood. “Honestly, Jefferson, I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“You better fill me in on the way to the hospital,” Jefferson said with calm, serious assurance.
The relief Cooper felt almost knocked him back down. He had his partner back. Jefferson always knew what to do. No more speculation and confusion. Things were going to be better now.
* * *
Jenny Eagler looked too small for her hospital bed. Her body was very still and sort of folded in on itself under the sheets. Her long dark hair was greasy, almost black, emphasizing the unhealthy ashy color of her skin.
There was a lot of fight in her eyes, though. Not only was she alert as they introduced themselves and asked gentle questions, she was impatient. Annoyed to have been sedated overnight, anxious to see her kid, and angry to...well, just angry. For good reason.
Cooper wouldn’t be surprised if she walked out of the hospital, straight into a self-defense class, became a black belt in a few months and, if they didn’t find her attacker, find him herself, Kill Bill–style.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a lot of useful information to add, and he could see Jenny was getting frustrated.
“Ms. Eagler, you’re doing great.”
“But I didn’t see anything.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like you to close your eyes and imagine you’re there at Bear’s Den.” She frowned but closed her eyes. “It’s closing time. Is there anyone around?”
“The bar’s empty. Except for Jake and Alice Grino, arguing as usual. She thinks he’s having an affair. He thinks she drinks too much.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Aggravated. I’m trying to get out of there. They already paid, but they’re busy fighting now.”
“Does that make you uncomfortable?”
“No, I’m annoyed. I tell them to leave.”
“Do they?”
“Yes. But I can still hear them arguing outside on the street. They’re getting louder. I thought I was going to have to call someone. I wish I had. Maybe then...”
She trailed off and her eyes started to flicker open.
“Almost done, Miss Eagler,” Cooper said. “Then what happened?”
“I took the trash out the back door. I was only outside for a few minutes and when I came back—” Jenny took a shuddering breath.
“Okay. Wait for me. You walked back into the bar from outside. How do you feel?”
She paused. “Edgy.”
“Because the bar looks different, maybe?”
“No. It’s the same. Very...still, though. It’s so quiet. I feel afraid and I don’t know why.”
“That’s healthy animal instinct,” Cooper said, recalling Park’s words to him. In the corner of his eye he can see Jefferson raise an eyebrow. “You said it was so quiet. Can you still hear the Grinos arguing outside?”
“No, I can’t.” Jenny opened her eyes, and this time Cooper didn’t try and stop her. She looked exhausted. “The next thing I remember they were lifting me onto the stretcher.”
“You don’t remember anything about where you were taken?” Jefferson said.
“No. I just remember being cold and wet and I couldn’t see.”
“The field,” Jefferson said gently.
Jenny’s eyes flickered.
“You don’t think so?” Cooper asked.
/> “I sort of thought I was inside. The air was very...still. But I don’t know. It’s all very blurry. Not even spotty memories, more like spotty feelings.”
“Is there any feeling, no matter how little it makes sense, that you remember?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t really awake, you know? I was just cold, even in my dreams.”
“Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”
“Molly. Molly was whining. Trying to keep me warm, but she couldn’t reach me.”
“Molly?” Cooper asked, exchanging a glance with Jefferson.
Jenny laughed without humor. “It was just a dream. Molly was my family’s basset hound growing up. I told you, I don’t remember anything.”
Jefferson moved on to ask about past and current relationships, money problems, if anyone at the bar that night had given her any trouble.
Cooper waited for Jefferson to lead up to that night so he could ask about Miller. Sure enough, he said, “I believe you saw my partner there that night? Along with, ah, Park.” Jefferson barely stuttered over the name.
Jenny squinted slightly at Cooper, almost as if she was just now remembering him. “Yes. That’s right. You were there with Ollie.”
Ollie? “And Officer Miller,” Cooper said quickly. “Do you know him? I know you knew Park—uh, Oliver—but I’m not sure if you recognized Miller.”
She shrugged, thoughts still clearly elsewhere. “The cop? Sure, he’s been around before. Everyone in Florence comes through Bear’s at some point or another. Does Ollie know what happened to me?”
“He knows you’re here,” Cooper said. “Does Officer Miller come in to talk to you often?”
His attempt at subtlety failed. Jenny looked between Jefferson and Cooper avidly. “You mean did he, like, harass me? No. The opposite. He was usually very quiet. Sweet, I guess.” She wiggled up straighter in bed, wincing as she jostled her heavily bandaged collarbone. “But that’s what they always say about the really crazy ones, right? That he was so sweet and quiet? Did that fucker attack me?”