Cole in My Stocking

by Jessi Gage

  Tugging me down to sit beside him on the sectional, Cole propped his feet on the coffee table, which bore the circular marks of many sweating glasses. He curled an arm around my shoulders and let out a contented sigh.

  I knew how he felt. Good food in my belly, good company, a comfortable couch, a quiet winter night complete with fat, fluffy snowflakes drifting past the window and beginning to accumulate on the sill—perfection. Stocking feet curled under, I snuggled against his side, in no hurry to talk about the fire at Dad’s place.

  Neither was Cole, it seemed. He rested his cheek on the top of my head while we listened to the snow fall.

  “This is nice,” I said after a while. Understatement of the year.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, rubbing his fingers lazily up and down my arm. After each down stroke, he would cup my elbow and rub a gentle circle with the pads of his fingers. The soft pressure made tingles race all over my skin. “Have I mentioned how much I like this new outfit?” He plucked at the sleeve of my lightweight sweater. It had wide horizontal stripes in coral and tan and a boat neck that showed the straps of the tank top I wore underneath.

  “Only three times now.”

  “Are the others all this cute?”

  “Yeah.”

  He groaned.

  I smiled. Cheek nestled in the hollow between his cannonball shoulder and the mound of his pectoral, I gazed up at him, knowing I was a complete goner for this man. I never wanted to leave this warm, safe place.

  Unfortunately, I would have to. In about a week.

  “Hate to ruin the quiet with talk of arson and theft,” Cole said.

  Discussing the investigation sounded better than second-guessing what Cole and I had together and how long it could possibly last. “That’s okay. Do you have any idea who might have done it?”

  “Not yet, but daylight revealed some stuff they missed last night. Like two sets of footprints. Coming from the woods. There were matching prints and fresh tire tracks on the dump access road. Looks like the perps came from that direction rather than risk being spotted in the driveway.”

  I shivered, remembering my run through those very woods and along the access road on Christmas Eve.

  Cole gave me a fortifying squeeze. “You had the combination to that safe. I had it. Did anyone else that you know of?”

  I thought about it. “Remember when we searched Dad’s shop for the will?” I waited for Cole’s nod. “It surprised me when Tooley strolled right over and opened up the business safe. Dad wouldn’t have shared that combination with him lightly. He was so careful with his combos and passwords, he never even wrote them down. He would memorize them and destroy any paper copies. He told me he’d skin me alive if I ever wrote down the one to the house safe or told it to anyone. I guess it’s possible he could have told it to Tooley. I think it’s a stretch, but seeing as he knew how to get into the shop safe…” I shrugged.

  “I’m not ruling him out,” Cole said, “but he’s got an alibi for last night. Was home with his wife and sons and their families. All night. Still had visitors at ten p.m. If he was involved, he wasn’t on site. Tell you the truth, honey, this doesn’t seem like him.”

  “It is hard to imagine a former chief of police orchestrating a fire and theft at his best friend’s place,” I conceded. Tooley wasn’t my biggest fan, but I remembered what Cole told me about him losing his teenage son. He’d been so hard on me that night because he’d hoped to scare me straight. Even though he was upset with me lately over this will business, I couldn’t see him endangering me by burning down the place where I was staying or spray painting that nasty message. “But if he knew about the money, I suppose it’s conceivable.” Money could motivate people to do things they wouldn’t normally do.

  “I don’t think he knew about it. I don’t think your dad told anyone about that money.”

  “Except you.”

  “Yeah. Except me.”

  “Alright, for the sake of argument, let’s say it wasn’t Tooley. Who else could it have been?”

  “Good question. So far, we’ve pieced together a timeline and figured out how they got past your dad’s security system. In the rubble, we found a panel of siding that was fire-damaged, but burned clean around the edges too, like someone had taken a blowtorch to it. There were also some traces of unsinged insulation in the grass. And some sawdust around the perimeter. It looks like the perps torched and sawed their way through the wall in the room where the safe was. By bypassing the windows and doors and not triggering the motion detector in the living room, they managed to gain access to the safe without setting off the alarm.

  “As long as they stuck to that room, they would have been able to take their time cracking and emptying the safe. Their tracks show they made a few trips back to their vehicle with the haul. Once the safe was empty, they set the fire. By the time the motion detectors were triggered by the fire, the place was too far gone to save, and the perps were long gone. Newburgh PD arrived on the scene at nine forty-five, which means the perps probably got started around eight or eight thirty.”

  “That’s pretty ballsy,” I said, turning to face him. “I mean, what if I’d come home while they were emptying the safe?”

  “Another good question.” Cole scooped my legs onto his lap so I could recline against the cushy couch arm behind me. Keeping one arm along the back of the couch, he settled his other hand on my knees.

  The weight of his touch made me feel ridiculously secure. I couldn’t remember feeling anything remotely like security with a boyfriend before. Attraction, yes. Companionship, yes. A thirst for acceptance, yes. But never this kind of unshakable assurance that I was utterly and completely safe.

  “Don’t know the answer,” he went on. “Maybe they had a lookout on Grizzly. Maybe they were just lucky.”

  I frowned. “Strange that they would take the time to spray paint that message on the garage. Wouldn’t that increase the risk of getting caught?”

  Cole shifted, facing me while keeping my legs draped over his thighs. “Been thinking about that. Here’s what we think so far. The perps break in, crack and empty the safe. One of them spreads the accelerant and sets the fire while the other leaves the message. They hope the arson will disguise the theft, at least for a little while, and the message will lead law enforcement to treat the incident as a property crime. No need to look for anything missing if it’s a personal attack against you.”

  His hand tightened on my knees. Energy poured off him. I could tell working through all the what-ifs excited him. His excitement was contagious. I found myself edging forward, hanging on his words and imagining the scenario he described.

  “I mean, who would have thought you’d know the combination to that safe?” he said. “Most daughters wouldn’t have that information, and with the house burned down, chances are any piece of paper with the combination written on it would have burned too. You and I know Grip didn’t keep it in writing, but the perps might not have known that. I’m betting they thought the safe would have to be drilled. Without any reason to suspect a theft, that might not have happened for days. That would give them time to unload those guns or hide the cash if they’d found it. In other words, thanks to you, we’ve got a jump on them.”

  “Thanks to my dad, you mean, since he’s the one who made me practice opening the safe until I could do it in my sleep.” I blew out a breath. “So they were hoping it would look like a different kind of crime than it really was to buy time and increase their odds of getting away with it.”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “That sounds calculating.” I hugged myself and burrowed further into Cole’s side.

  “Hey.” He jostled me. “We’ll find who did this. We’ve got a lot of avenues to investigate. If the physical evidence doesn’t yield anything and we don’t find any witnesses, we’ve got the gun angle. Some of the pieces your dad had will be trackable just because they’re so rare. Did you know he has a document in his sho
p files detailing the origins and serial numbers of every gun?”

  “I didn’t know that, but it doesn’t surprise me.” Dad had been meticulous with documentation of any kind. Business records or personal, it didn’t matter. His house might have been a cluttered disaster, but once paperwork made it into his filing cabinets, they would be orderly and easily navigable. “So, you were up in the shop? Does that mean they found Dad’s keys in the rubble?”

  Cole nodded. “Your keys too. I tried the one for your Blazer, and it works fine. We’ll go together to pick it up sometime. The other keys should be okay too, but you might want your super to go with you the first time you unlock your apartment when you get back, just in case. I put them in the junk drawer in my kitchen for safe keeping.”

  “Thank you.” That was a load off my mind. I mentally checked off calling a locksmith to replace my car key.

  “Thought you’d like that,” he said with a crinkle of his eyes.

  I twined my fingers with his, loving how big his hands were compared to mine.

  He rolled one of the beads on my bracelet with his thumb. “I won’t rest until I’ve found each and every one of those guns, you know. You have my word on that.”

  I believed him. “Thank you, Cole. For everything.”

  “Any time, honey.”

  I liked being Cole’s honey.

  We watched the snow fall for a few minutes. Cole broke the peaceful silence. “I forgot to tell you, Brock heard what happened and came by this afternoon with a can of primer. Once the graffiti was documented and paint samples taken, they let him cover the writing. The garage looks good as new.”

  A warm spot bloomed in my chest at the unexpected kindness. Brock was a friend of Dad’s and sort of a neighbor. He owned the property the dump occupied, leasing it to the county for a small income. He also operated the weigh station during dump hours. He didn’t live on the property, but he kept a run-down camper near the weigh station, and I happened to know he stayed there sometimes. The camper butted up against the chain link fence separating Dad’s property and the access road from the dump. Other than garbage trucks, dump trucks, and Dad’s customers, Brock was the only other person who ever drove past our section of Grizzly Road.

  Painting outdoors in freezing temps couldn’t have been much fun. I owed Brock a big thank you. “That was really nice of him,” I said. “Poor Brock. I wonder what he thinks about having two criminals out on the access road last night.” I sat up straight. “Hey, he didn’t happen to see anything, did he?”

  “Nah. Said he was home that night celebrating Christmas with his pit bull.”

  “I don’t blame him. Spending Christmas at the dump would have been pretty depressing.” I yawned, my early morning combined with the late night we’d had Christmas Eve catching up with me. It had to be catching up with Cole too. A beer-themed clock over the DVD rack said it was nine fifty. I toyed with the buttons at the neck of his Henley. “You must be exhausted. It’s almost ten.”

  “I’m okay. This is relaxing. I’d rather be here with you and awake than asleep in bed by myself.”

  This man made me ridiculously happy. He was by far the sweetest guy I’d ever dated. Sweetness aside, I wasn’t about to let him skimp on sleep. He worked twelve-hour days, and his job had the potential for danger. He’d be at his best and therefore safest if he was well rested. He couldn’t have gotten more than three hours last night. If I got him into bed in the next ten minutes and he got up at five in the morning to get ready for his day, that would give him seven hours tonight. Eight would be better, but I wouldn’t have given up our last hour of talking for anything. “What if I lay down with you until you fall asleep?”

  He hummed contentedly. “That’d be nice, honey.”

  “Then it’s a date.” I straightened off the couch and offered a hand to help pull him up. “Meet you in the guest room in ten?”

  “Make it five.”

  Chapter 20

  Cole had never gotten ready for bed so fast in his life. When he’d given Mandy his room, he’d moved his every-day toiletries to the hall bathroom. Standing in front of the pedestal sink and mirror, he ran the toothbrush back and forth a few times, skipped the floss, took care of the necessities and crossed the hall to the guest bedroom.

  Closing the door, he changed into sweats and an undershirt. He normally slept in just boxers, but he wasn’t going to climb in bed mostly naked with Mandy about to join him. He was ready to go full throttle with her, had been since the minute he saw she was back in town, if he was honest with himself. But she wasn’t anywhere near ready, judging by the physical issues she’d brought up on the way home from his mom’s Christmas night. He wasn’t about to push her, especially when they hadn’t even begun to discuss those issues yet.

  He’d take whatever she could give him and not a single bit more, even if that meant nothing but holding and kissing her. Hell, he was ecstatic with holding and kissing her. It sure beat having her hundreds of miles away and practically unaware of his existence.

  After cracking the door open, he peeled back the covers and crawled into the full-size bed he kept for guests even though he’d never actually had a guest sleep over, not in this bed, anyway. His bed was another story. But none of the guests he’d shared his bed with over the years held a candle to the woman who slept there now. Not even close.

  One day, he and Mandy would sleep in that bed together. But it might be a while. Fine with him. As long as he had her in his life, he could handle sleeping in separate beds. Separate states would suck big time, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. For now, he had her in his house. He’d enjoy it while it lasted.

  A soft knock sounded. The door opened. Mandy peered tentatively toward the bed. She had on those adorable flannel pajamas she’d worn last night, light blue with little white dots all over like snowflakes. Her feet were bare, like his. Maybe it made him the world’s biggest perv, but the thought of rubbing his feet over hers under the covers made him achingly hard. Jesus, if that’s all it took, it was going to be a long while before he got to sleep.

  He raised the blankets, inviting her in.

  She smiled. Arrow to his heart. “Sure you’ve got room for me in there?”

  “I’d have room for you in a sleeping bag.”

  Her smile grew. She flicked the switch, killing the lights and freezing that smile in his memory. When she joined him, the soothing scents of vanilla and mint wafted off her. He scooped her to his chest, inhaling deeply.

  He ran warmer than she did, so when she snuggled in close, she felt cool as a freshly turned pillow. Mindful of her history, he edged his hips back. She didn’t need to feel his hard-on and read anything into it. He’d been doing that a lot lately, pretending he didn’t have a constant erection around her.

  Time to think about something other than how automatically and thoroughly his body responded to her. “You doing okay after everything?” She’d had a lot of shocks the past couple of days. A weaker woman would be an emotional wreck. Not Mandy. That didn’t mean she wasn’t suffering beneath her veneer of strength.

  “I think so,” she said carefully. “I mean, there’s a lot going on. I’m angry and sad. Dad’s trailer wasn’t very nice, but it was home when I was a kid. I want his guns back. I’m upset about losing all mom’s clothes—” Her voice hitched. “And the flag from the funeral.”

  He tightened his hold on her, cupped the back of her head. “We’ll get you another one of those. Not a problem.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry about it, okay?” He made a mental note to order a replacement flag and keepsake case from the Veterans organization on Monday.

  Another sniff. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “And all the paperwork and estate stuff, I’ll be able to help you with that next week. It’s a light week for me. I only work Wednesday.”

  “A double shift, right?”

  “Yeah. Rest of the week, including New Year’s
Day, I’m all yours.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  He chuckled. His girl knew how to flirt. That was for sure.

  “Anyway,” she said on a sigh that turned into a yawn. “I guess it could have been worse. I’m trying not to wallow in being upset, you know? The shop was okay. And Dad’s truck and Harley. Max doesn’t think the fire will devalue the estate. He said the trailer was actually a liability. Selling the property will be easier with just the garage and space for a new house to go up.” She wound one arm around his waist. Her fingertips teased his spine. He was never going to lose his wood at this rate. “I think it would be cool to have a shooting range there.” Her voice got sleepier and sleepier. “It’s a good spot for it, with nothing behind but acres and acres of garbage. But whatever. It might not be a gun person who buys the land.”

  “You’re a real trooper, honey. You know that?”

  “Look who’s talking, State Trooper Plankitt.” He heard the smile in her voice.

  They laughed quietly together.

  “I mean it,” he told her. “You’ve been so strong, so even-keeled through all this.”

  Her shoulder moved. A shrug. “I guess if I am, I owe that to how Dad raised me, huh?”

  “Maybe,” he allowed. He doubted her calm, accepting spirit had anything to do with Gripper’s child rearing skills. It was just who she was. “Whatever the reason, I’m proud of you.”

  She was quiet a long time. Then she lifted her face to his and searched out his mouth in the dark. She found what she was looking for and pressed her lips sweetly to his. “I want to thank you, Cole. You’ve been my rock.”

  His head spun with her praise. His blood heated with the press of her body and her breath on his lips. “You’re welcome, honey.”

  Her thumb brushed his cheek. “I’ve never been in bed with a guy before. It’s nice.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Warm.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”