True to You

by Jennifer Ryan

  The warning came through loud and clear. King shook his head and called her bluff. “You’d never use Iceman to do your dirty work. That kind of thing holds no appeal for you.”

  “How the hell would you know?”

  He took a shot and hoped he was right. “Because you sent the cops after him today. Iceman, Tim’s father, others like them, you wouldn’t spit on them if they were on fire.”

  “I’d light the match to take them out.” Nothing but bluster. A show of strength when she probably felt powerless to stop them, because a match equaled a spark in their ranks when you needed a nuke to take them out for good.

  “No, you wouldn’t. Sure, you want them to see justice, but hurting people isn’t your thing.”

  “You don’t know shit.” Cara spun on her heel and headed for the big red-and-white barn that sat off to their right. Her cute little cottage-style house on the left with the lush garden on both sides of a stone path reminded him of some architectural magazine picture.

  “I know I struck a nerve.”

  Ten steps ahead of him, she didn’t hear what he said. The woman who cared for her employees, her home, the shop, and the flowers just starting to bloom this early in spring didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’d just fortified her defenses with tough talk and a thick outer shell. He bet if he cracked it, he’d find a soft, warm heart in the center.

  Flash slung the heavy duffel over his shoulder and followed Cara along the stone path to the front of the barn. The old wood doors had been replaced with a set of glass French doors. Window panels on each side let light into the big building. She opened the front door and walked into the wide entry and wiped her feet on the rug under the huge wrought iron chandelier. The large living room to the right had a seating area with a tan sofa and two navy blue chairs. All of which looked soft and comfortable. A rustic coffee table and side tables were polished to a high shine despite the distressed wood. The large window on the back wall let in more light and allowed a pretty view of the mountains beyond a flourishing garden.

  The seating area on the right appeared comfortable and inviting, but the room on the left looked more lived in. Two large brown leather sofas sat in a V with a triangular side table at the point and a triangular coffee table inside the V. The sofas were set up to perfectly view the large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. A huge stone fireplace dominated the corner across the room along with another wide window that overlooked a deck and the empty pastures beyond.

  “The kitchen is to the left at the back of the living room.” She pointed to the right. “That room is smaller. No TV. If you want to read or just have some peace and quiet, I recommend that room. Down the way there are two rooms on the right. At the far back past the kitchen, you’ll find the bathroom.” She walked down the wide center aisle toward the back doors that matched the front. Several full-size rugs spread out from one end to the other with a couple of tables and chests along the walls with pictures of horses above them. The décor was simple, yet gave a nod to what this place used to be. A horse barn.

  He followed Cara through the bathroom’s sliding barn door. She flipped on the light revealing a long countertop to the right with three sinks. Ray’s razor, toothbrush, and other bathroom items were spread neatly around one of them. Wide, tan tiles on the floor matched the sand-colored granite countertop. The black faucets matched the lights on the walls and over-the-sink mirrors in their black frames. Three doors designated the toilet stalls along the right that led back to the showers. Three frosted glass doors lined the back wall. A long wood slat bench sat in the middle of the shower room along with a thick wood shelf that held plush stacked towels and a huge potted fern in a dark blue glazed pot. A washer and dryer sat below the shelf, laundry soap and dryer sheets in the cubby beside the washer. Frosted skylights overhead let in a ton of natural light.

  “Ray uses the shower on the left. You can have either of the others. You are responsible for keeping it and the rest of the bathroom clean. I’m not your maid.”

  “No problem. I like what you’ve done. This place is unexpectedly nice. Like a spa or something.” He’d never been to a spa, but this place reminded him of an upscale hotel he’d been in once while tailing a suspect. Rustic chic, he’d overheard one of the guests call it.

  He should get her to redo his plain, dismal place.

  He dismissed the thought immediately. She didn’t know he had his own home. She’d never know anything about him. Not really. He’d told her about his dad having his own ranch. True. But his father was actually really proud of him. Though his parents worried constantly. They called him once a week. He’d hated that he’d had to call them from prison and pretend that everything was all right, that he wasn’t afraid every second he was there. He never told them he’d gotten hurt.

  “I put a lot of thought into the renovation.”

  “I bet it cost a bundle.”

  She eyed him, probably thinking he silently accused her of using drug money to do it. Based on the number of customers still in her shop after the morning rush, he bet her place did a damn good business. The location on the outskirts of town might have made others think twice about opening such a place there, but the steady stream of cars and truckers driving in and out of town kept customers coming and going from her shop nonstop.

  “I had help.” Her response could be taken any number of ways. She didn’t give him any information. He didn’t let on that he knew anything about her grandparents leaving this place to her. “Your room is this way.”

  He followed her out of the spacious bathroom to the room directly across the wide hall.

  “Ray’s room is the first one. I thought you might like this one. Unless you’d prefer one of the ones upstairs.” She indicated the staircase to the left of his bedroom doorway.

  He didn’t want to have to negotiate the stairs when he snuck out in the middle of the night to meet his contact or check out potential places Iceman and his crew could be using to store their drugs.

  “I’m good down here.”

  She opened the door and let it go, then stood back so he could enter ahead of her. The rectangular room had a queen-size bed beneath a window. A closet and built-in bookshelves covered the left-side wall. A leather chair and small, round table sat in front of the shelves with a navy-blue-and-cream-colored rug spread out before them and along the bed. A large dresser with a lamp on both ends sat against the wall next to him.

  The bed looked so inviting with the soft-looking blue knitted cover, white sheets peeking out the top, and two thick pillows at the barnwood headboard.

  “There are hangers in the closet for your clothes. The drawers are empty, except for a spare set of sheets. You and Ray can figure out a schedule for doing laundry.”

  He planted his hand on the bed and pushed on the mattress. Soft, plush, not like the hard bunk in his cell.

  “It’ll be a hard fit, but maybe if you sleep diagonal your feet won’t hang off the end.”

  He gave Cara an appreciative smile. “It’s fine. Better than where I was staying.” He rubbed his hand over the blanket. “This is way better than the thin blanket they gave us.”

  “I hope you like it. I made it.”

  He glanced down at the large bedspread. “You made it?”

  She gave him a single nod. “A hobby. It’s supposed to take my mind off . . . I don’t sleep well. Lots of time to knit.” She rubbed the scars on her hand.

  Telling. But he didn’t ask what she was about to say. He wondered what she couldn’t get off her mind.

  He had his own stored-up nightmares. “I haven’t slept well in months.”

  “I hope that changes tonight.” The softening in her voice reminded him of how she spoke to her customers, the way he’d heard her talk to Ray. He hoped she warmed up to him more over the next days, weeks, and months he’d be here until he took her father down.

  Flash dropped his duffel on the end of the bed. “I’m sure it will. This place is great. I’ll set the alarm, make sure
I’m up on time in the morning.” She really had thought of everything, including the alarm clock on the bedside table.

  “You can either follow me in to work or drive with me. Whatever you want.”

  “I’ll take my truck. I have that meeting with my parole officer.” He needed to keep up appearances. If something came up, he needed his own transportation—and an easy means of escape if his cover got blown.

  “Great. Now empty your pockets onto the bed.”

  He tilted his head, curious about her order. “What?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Random check of your things. I won’t risk my business or my home if you’ve got drugs on you. Plus, if you lied to me, this is over.”

  Flash stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled out his keys and change and tossed them on the bed, pissed off she’d do this, but understanding it all the same. She thought he was a drug dealer and a liar. Nothing he said or did would change her mind when he’d just gotten out of jail this morning. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed it to her. She flipped it open, checked out the fake driver’s license the DEA issued him for his cover and all the pockets to be sure he didn’t have a little something hidden away. She handed back the wallet and grabbed the handle to his duffel bag and slid it toward her.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Really.” She opened the bag and pulled out the clothes Trigger and Ashley packed for him. He really had no idea what was in the bag. Turned out to be mostly jeans, a pair of sweats, T-shirts, socks, and underwear. And tucked on the bottom was a box of condoms with a note from Trigger.

  You might need these after being inside so long. Enjoy yourself!

  Cara eyed him, wondering about the note, he assumed, but he said nothing. She tossed the condoms aside and ran her hands over the empty bag to be sure nothing was hidden in the inside pockets or a secret lining.

  “Satisfied?”

  “For now.”

  “You really don’t trust anyone.” Lucky for him, he’d stashed the files, his badge, and ID in the secret compartment in the truck. Drug dealers rigged them up all the time, why not him?

  “Most people live their sunny lives without a care in the world. I’m always watching for rain and expecting a blizzard. It’s safer that way.”

  “That’s sad, Cara.”

  “That’s life.”

  For her, she believed. He wanted to know why. Yes, because of who her father was, but it ran deeper than that. It had to do with her hand and the disillusionment and unhappiness lurking in the depths of her eyes.

  She turned to go, but came back around with her lips pinched, her eyes squinted as she decided if she’d say whatever appeared to be on her mind.

  “Spit it out, boss.” He thought the reminder that she had some authority over him would get her talking. Hell, she’d already pawed through all his stuff; she might as well say whatever she wanted.

  “Tandy tends to be . . . friendly. While that may appeal to you, her friendliness extends to just about everyone and never anyone for long. You’ll be working together a lot. I’d hate for there to be problems down the road. Especially if she’s friendly to someone else after she’s used all her charms on you. I’d think twice before you ‘enjoy yourself’ with her.”

  A soft blush turned her pale cheeks pink, making the sprinkle of freckles stand out. She didn’t like getting personal. It embarrassed her. She didn’t seem to mind Tandy’s flirting with the customers, but she did mind that attention directed at him. He hoped there was something personal to it.

  He could exploit that.

  Asshole.

  He didn’t want to use her that way.

  Watch and listen. Pick up on anything useful to the case and taking down Iceman. That was his mission. Not messing with a beautiful woman’s feelings.

  Besides, the distance she kept between them, the all-business way she talked to him, indicated she didn’t much like him. Then again, every time she looked right at him, she glanced away, like if her gaze lingered too long he’d see something she didn’t want him to see.

  Maybe there was something there.

  Or maybe he wanted there to be because every look at her beautiful face and sweet body made him ache to touch her.

  You’re losing your shit. Jail made you horny. Period.

  Except he’d felt nothing, not one inkling to touch Tandy, though the offer had been blatant.

  “Tandy’s not my type.” He thought the answer would end this part of the conversation.

  She raised that golden eyebrow at him again. He heard her silent, Tandy is every man’s type.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I like friendly women.” A lot. Especially since he didn’t have the time or inclination for a relationship in his life right now. “But as I said before—”

  “The job. Second chances. Doing something better with your life.”

  The eye roll pissed him off. He’d never had to work this hard to get a woman to like him.

  “Kitchen is this way.” She walked away.

  He sighed out his frustration and followed her. He’d known going in this would be hard, but he wished for a simple solution to get her on his side. If she called in the truck to help take down her father, maybe if she knew he intended the same thing, she’d help him?

  Then again, she knew the truck would be found without her father in it. While it linked back to him, they had no proof the drugs belonged to Iceman. Nothing a good lawyer wouldn’t dispute.

  So was she trying to stop the drugs from getting out into communities without taking down her father? Or did she want the drugs and her father stopped?

  He couldn’t answer that. Not now anyway.

  So he couldn’t trust her. She didn’t trust him. The distance between them felt unnatural considering the pull toward her that started the second he walked into the coffee shop. The pictures of her didn’t do her justice. They didn’t have the same punch to the gut he felt when he saw her in person for the first time.

  He wanted to discount it as nothing more than being away from women these last months but couldn’t. Not when he wanted her this bad.

  Great. The one woman who’d sparked something in him in too long for him to remember the last time he felt this way, and he couldn’t have her. This was a job. Nothing more. Once this was done, maybe sooner, he’d find someone else to take the edge off his libido.

  “You coming, or what?” Cara called from the other room.

  He walked across the hall again, through another sliding barn door, and stepped into a large kitchen with the same sand-colored granite countertops as the bathroom. Stainless steel appliances, a coffeepot, toaster, and dark wood cabinets that offset the wood floors. The space opened up into the living room. A breakfast bar on the other side of the island separated the spaces.

  “Fridge has the basics: milk, soda, fruit, condiments, eggs, cheese. Stuff like that. Help yourself. I make a grocery run once a week. Add anything you want to the list and leave some cash to cover the cost.” She pointed to the pad of paper magnetized to the side of the fridge. “Is alcohol a problem?”

  “No. I never did drugs. I like a beer or two now and then, but I’m not an addict or alcoholic.”

  Her mouth drew back in a line and her head tilted. She didn’t believe him again and it was getting old.

  She went to the sofa and picked up the remote and pointed it at the TV. The news came on.

  “Satellite TV. While there are several pay-per-view channels, I’m footing the bill, so don’t order anything. You’ve got about five hundred channels.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t watch a lot of TV, except for catching a Broncos game or two every once in a while.”

  “What do you do with your free time?”

  “I like to be outdoors. So if there’s some work around here you need done, just let me know. I’d be happy to pitch in and help as part of staying here.”

  She stared at him for a full thirty seconds, her sharp gaze drilling into him, l
ooking for his angle, deception, anything that set off an alarm. “There’s a pile of wood on the side of my place that needs to be split and stacked for next winter. I like to get started early.”

  Probably because it took her a good amount of time to do it on her own.

  “If you’re inclined to swing an axe to pass the time, feel free.”

  He passed the test. “Anything else?”

  “It’s a big place. There’s always something to do.”

  “In local news, the DEA scored a huge bust on Highway 287 today when officers found two hundred pounds of cocaine packed in apple crates in the back of a produce truck. It’s the largest bust this year. The suspect arrested, Francisco Vega, faces multiple drug charges.”

  “Tim’s dad?”

  Cara nodded. Her eyes held a mix of resignation and sadness.

  Pictures of several state officials with their titles beneath their faces spread across the TV screen. “Federal officers had their hands full today when the governor and three state representatives received suspicious . . .”

  Cara shut the TV off.

  “Is Iceman going to go after Tim for the bust?”

  She shook her head. “He’d never believe Tim set his father up.”

  “So he’ll come after you, knowing Tim told you about it.”

  “No.”

  He didn’t think so either, but he needed to push so she’d open up and give him something. “Cara, you can’t be serious. You’ve got to be concerned that Iceman will hunt down whoever snitched about the truck, and the suspects are limited. Hell, he might think I did it.”

  Her mouth drew back in a grim line. “He’ll know it was me. I warned him not to use Tim again.”

  “You warned him? You know him?”

  She believed the surprise and disbelief he put into his words but didn’t say anything. The tension in her grew as she rubbed her thumb over the scars on her right hand again and again.

  Since she didn’t answer, he pushed harder. “He’s your father.”

  Her gaze shot to his, then narrowed with that familiar suspicion.

  “Same eyes.” He held her gaze. “I should have guessed after I saw him, then you, today. He thought Scott sent me to him. Now I see why he was surprised Scott sent me to you. I didn’t get his suspicions about me working for you, but I guess he wondered if I was using you to get to him.”