by Gerri Hill
“Kayla…the case. Not your plan to cook.”
Kayla smiled. “Of course I knew what you meant. And of course I agree with you, but what can we do?”
“Take your laptop. We can still do some research.”
“I can take my laptop and I can use my phone as a hotspot, but that won’t really help. I can’t access the databases from my laptop.”
She nearly growled in frustration. “I hate this. I really, really hate this. I feel like we’re handcuffed.”
“That’s because we are.”
“So he’s thinking it’s a local? There are no leads, no evidence. How the hell does he think he’s going to find the killer?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low. “We should be doing something, not shopping for groceries and babysitting. Two of the guys could have done this.”
“Again, I agree,” Kayla said as she grabbed a bag of potatoes. “You like potatoes, right? Everybody likes potatoes.”
“I especially like mashed potatoes and gravy.”
“My gravy sucks. You’ll have to make do with baked.” She turned to look at her. “My father is stubborn and set in his ways. When he makes his mind up about something, there’s no changing it. I learned that at an early age.”
“Meaning we do this detail and hope he stumbles upon the killer?”
“Meaning we do this detail, and maybe the killer stumbles upon us. My dad may be right. If the killer is a local and he’s eliminating everyone in this little operation, then my uncle is surely next on the list—most likely last on the list. This might be our only opportunity.”
“So we babysit?”
“I’d rather think of it as witness protection. I had that detail a few times in my career.” Kayla stood staring into the meat cooler. “I’m thinking I can bake a whole chicken tonight. Tomorrow—”
“We’ve got that casserole,” she reminded her. “Although I had some for breakfast so I don’t know if it’s enough for three.”
“Breakfast? Liked it that much, did you?”
“I loved it. Couldn’t you tell?”
Again, Kayla turned to look at her, but it was a different kind of look. The blue eyes seemed to be searching hers, and Murphy wondered what she was looking for. As their stare continued, Murphy felt her pulse increase, the steady slow pace speeding up as she sunk deeper into those blue depths. A straight woman should not have this effect on her.
Kayla finally blinked, breaking their stare. She cleared her throat slightly before speaking. “I had some for breakfast too. How about you decide on tomorrow’s meal. Is there a favorite that you like?”
“Italian.”
“Italian? That’s a rather wide range.”
Murphy shrugged. “I like stuff with pasta. My choice would be lasagna, but I think that’s rather involved, isn’t it.”
Kayla nodded. “If you don’t mind store-bought Alfredo sauce over your pasta, I could do something with shrimp and veggies. How’s that?”
Murphy smiled. “When this is over with, can we arrange for a once-a-week dinner date and you cook for me?”
Kayla’s eyes captured hers again. “A once-a-week dinner date could easily lead to two.” Her eyebrows rose teasingly. “Or even three.”
Murphy knew they were getting into dangerous territory, but she couldn’t resist. She took a step closer, still clinging to Kayla’s eyes. “Three nights a week? People will think we’re dating.”
Kayla took a step closer as well, her blue eyes twinkling. “Or having really good sex.”
Murphy’s heart lodged in her throat, nearly choking her as Kayla’s hand lightly touched her arm as she moved past her. She took a breath, wondering what the hell kind of game they were playing.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was late afternoon before they got out to the cabin, and as before, Uncle Ned met them on the porch with a shotgun in his hand. The stubble on his face was thicker, and he appeared to be in the same clothes.
“I told that stubborn father of yours that I didn’t need a damn babysitter,” he said.
“Yes, well, as you said…stubborn,” she said. “We brought provisions. Weren’t sure what the food situation was like here.”
“How long you plan on camping out here?”
Kayla shrugged. “He said two days.”
“Thinks he’s going to catch him a killer, does he?”
Murphy walked up beside her carrying the bags from the grocery store. “He seemed pretty confident that he would, Mr. Dixon.”
He stared at her for a moment, one hand absently scratching his beard, the other still holding the shotgun. “Officer Murphy is it? You can call me Ned. What should I call you?”
“Murphy is fine.”
The three of them stood on the porch, looking at each other silently for a moment, then he finally opened the door and motioned them inside.
“Come on in. It’s still damn hot out here, isn’t it? I’m about ready for summer to be over with.”
The inside of the cabin was cool from the air conditioner, and Kayla had to agree that she was ready for fall as well. Especially since fall meant football weather and she hoped to have a standing football date with Murphy each Sunday, if their shifts allowed it. Whether that involved really hot sex or not was another matter. That thought made her look over at Murphy, and she couldn’t contain her smile as she remembered their conversation in the grocery store. Murphy had been rendered speechless by her statement. Who knew flirting would be so much fun?
“There ain’t much in the kitchen except for some canned stuff. I wouldn’t mind a decent meal, I guess. You cook?” he asked, his question directed at Murphy.
She laughed. “No, sir, not a bit.”
His glance slid to her. “Kayla? I hope you’re not relying on me to cook.”
“I can handle the meals, Uncle Ned.” She looked at his shotgun pointedly. “I think you can put that thing up now.”
“You lock the gate?”
“Yes. I’ll keep the key, if you don’t mind.”
He nodded. “Give it back to Earl after this is over with.”
She found Murphy in the kitchen, putting away their things in the fridge. She looked over her shoulder, seeing it nearly empty inside. There was a jar of mayo and a jar of pickles. A stick of butter that was half used was on the top shelf and two beer bottles lay on their sides next to it.
“Never thought I’d see a fridge that looked worse than my own,” Murphy murmured quietly as her uncle stood watching them.
“Well, if you pay attention, you might learn a few cooking tips,” she said, touching her back lightly as she moved behind her. “Then you can stock your fridge.”
“If I learned to cook…then what would you do?”
Kayla paused, turning around to look at her. Murphy seemed embarrassed by her statement.
“I mean…during football games and such.”
Kayla held her gaze a moment longer, and then smiled. “I’m sure we could find something for me to do.” She wiggled her eyebrows, which caused Murphy to blush and look away. She bit her lower lip. God, she really needed to stop flirting with her. In front of her uncle, no less. She turned to him then.
“Got TV out here? Or better yet…Internet?”
He snorted. “That Internet crap? Are you kidding me?”
“TV?” Murphy asked hopefully.
“No, this is a getaway cabin. If I brought TV and Internet up here, hell, might as well stay at home.” He scratched his stubble. “Would probably have more company too and they’d stay longer.”
Kayla laughed. “If you’re talking about us, we’ll get out of your hair as soon as we can. Besides, I’m sure you’re ready to get back home to Aunt Charlotte.” She met his gaze. “What have you told her?”
“She doesn’t know what’s going on, and I’d like to keep it that way. I told Earl that he’s not to say a word to her.”
“You don’t think she’ll get suspicious with you hanging out up here?” Murphy asked.
“Su
spicious? Like I’m having an affair with someone?” He laughed. “Since I fixed this place up, I come up here a lot. She thinks I’m redoing the deer blinds.”
“Can’t believe she let you come up here without food,” Kayla said. She looked at him pointedly. “What have you been eating?”
“Grilled me a steak the first night. Had a can of chili last night.”
“Steak sounds good. Canned chili…not so much.” She motioned to both of them. “Let me start on dinner. You two…out.” Her uncle left, but Murphy lingered.
“I can help,” Murphy offered.
Kayla simply couldn’t resist. Or maybe she could, but the words came out anyway. “You’ll only distract me if you’re in here.”
Murphy held her gaze, but her eyes were questioning. Kayla took a step toward her, her head tilting slightly.
“What?” she asked quietly. She saw Murphy take a breath.
“This could be a dangerous game, Kayla,” Murphy nearly whispered.
“Game? What makes you think it’s a game?”
Their eyes were locked together, but again, questions filled Murphy’s. Questions and something else. Was Murphy afraid of her? Maybe she was coming on too strong, flirting too much. God, she was so out of practice at this. She found Murphy attractive…she liked her. She wanted to spend time with her, get to know her. She was attracted to her. Yes, sure she was. But was now the time to initiate something between them? No, of course not. They were working. Her uncle was here. No wonder Murphy looked uncomfortable.
She finally sighed and took a step back. “Go on,” she said. “I need to get the chicken in the oven.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Murphy couldn’t concentrate on the cards in her hand, and Ned beat her easily in their first two rounds of gin.
“You have played before, right?”
“Yeah, sorry,” she murmured as she picked up the cards he’d dealt her. She looked at them without seeing them, her mind still on Kayla. You’ll only distract me. She should just tell her that while she was very flattered, she did not—ever—mess with straight women. No, not even when they were as attractive as Kayla Dixon was…a blond beauty with deep blue eyes that she wanted to dive into. Oh, and that smile. That smile could melt her on the spot. She needed to tell Kayla to stop smiling at her. She needed to tell Kayla to stop touching her. And she really needed to tell Kayla to stop flirting with her. Her eyes widened a bit. Maybe Tim was right. Maybe she was a siren or something.
Ned cleared his throat, and she looked up sheepishly. “Sorry.” She picked up Ned’s discard, surprised that she had two other nines in her hand.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Kayla took her laptop to the sofa and kicked off her shoes. She was going to check email, no doubt. Kimbro had promised to keep them updated with every little detail that turned up, no matter how minute. She turned back to the cards, but Ned’s attention was now on Kayla.
“You ever going to tell me what that brother of mine is up to?”
“He doesn’t think the killer is your drug dealer. He believes it might be a local.”
“A local? What the hell’s Earl thinking? I done told him about Lance skimming off the top.”
“Only a local would know about the swimming hole,” Kayla said.
“So he thinks one of the fine citizens of Sawmill Springs is doing the killing? That’s crazy.” He looked over at her. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m still on the side of the drug dealer,” she said honestly, hidden swimming hole or not. “Makes more sense.”
“Yeah…that’s what I’m saying,” Ned said. “Not some local. Good God, Earl must have a screw lose.” He shook his head. “And he thinks I need babysitting in case some damn local fool comes calling?” He laughed. “My brother, the police chief. I always was a better shot than him, anyway. I think I can take care of myself.”
“No offense, Uncle Ned, but hunting and taking a deer is quite different than shooting a person, more so if it’s someone you know.”
Murphy looked overhead to her right, eyeing the twelve-point buck that was mounted there. Other antlers were hanging on the wall but none as nice as that monster.
“Got him in 2012,” Ned said, following her gaze.
“Out here?”
“Yep. He wasn’t interested in coming to my feeder. He was chasing him up a doe. I saw him through a clearing and I about shit my pants,” he said with a laugh.
“Tough shot?”
“Oh, yeah. Well over two hundred and fifty yards. Damn lucky shot, I will admit, but I dropped him in his tracks.”
“What caliber rifle do you use?”
“I used a Winchester 30-06. I’ve got a Remington 243, but I prefer the Winchester. It sights in better for long shots.”
“Uncle Ned, when did they first approach you?” Kayla asked. “I want to give Kimbro a date range so he doesn’t have to go through too much data,” she explained.
“Guy and Lance?” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Let’s see, it was back…late last year, I think.” He nodded. “Still hunting season. Before Thanksgiving, I think.”
“Okay, good. I’ll get him to check from November to present,” Kayla said.
“What’s he searching for?”
“He’s going to start with phone records.”
Murphy got up from the table and walked over to her, eyeing Lance Foster’s appointment book. “Why not search around the dates of when this Mr. X was in town? Maybe he’ll hit on a phone number.”
Kayla smiled at her, and Murphy’s heart fluttered…like a damn teenager’s. She was about to go back to the table when she felt Kayla’s hand on her arm. She turned back to her, her skin burning where Kayla’s fingers rested.
“This is going to be useless if our killer used a burner phone. Maybe we should have him start with financials.”
“Lance had a phone like that,” Ned said. “A burner, like they say.”
Kayla sighed. “Great. Financials it is,” she murmured.
“I think Guy did too,” he continued. “They were a little paranoid.”
“Do you have their numbers?” she asked.
“No. They rarely called me. Most of our…our business was done face-to-face.”
“How about Niemeyer Trucking?” she suggested. “Log of routes or something. He could start there.”
“That won’t get you nothing,” Ned said as he scooted his chair away from the table. “Bogus manifests and routes. On top of that, Billy N even deleted the fake records too. Ghost trucks, he called it.”
“Well, you’re just full of good news,” Kayla said.
“They weren’t no dummies, Kayla.” He picked up his shotgun and headed for the door.
“You need to stay inside, Uncle Ned.”
“Gonna sit on the porch and smoke a cigarette. I think I’ll be safe.”
“Stubborn like my dad,” Kayla murmured.
“I’ll go out with him.”
Kayla nodded. “I’ll email Kimbro back; tell him to forget phone records. I think we should target financials. If Guy Woodard was using the bank to run the cash through, he had to have left a trail.” She paused. “I hope this isn’t over Kimbro’s head.”
“And if it is?” she asked.
“I’ve got some contacts at the FBI. I can always try to sweet-talk somebody into helping us.”
“I’m sure you could sweet-talk the devil himself,” she said without thinking.
Kayla slowly turned her head toward her, her lips twitching in a smile as their eyes met. “Is that what you think? Even the devil?”
“I think so,” she said quietly. “He wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“How about you? Would you stand a chance?”
She needed to pull away. She needed to break the spell. She needed to…to get closer…she needed to drown in those eyes. She needed…
“I need to…I think…I should…I should…check on Ned,” she managed as she got up and hurried toward the door.
<
br /> “Murphy?”
She stopped and took a deep breath before turning back around.
“Do I make you nervous, Murphy?”
Murphy’s heart was pounding as if she were about to be interrogated. She swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, you do.”
Kayla got up and walked toward her. “Why?”
“I don’t…well, I don’t do this,” she said.
“Do…this?”
“I’m…I’m uncomfortable when…when straight women, you know…”
Kayla’s eyes widened. “Straight women?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’re very attractive and yes, I admit I’m attracted to you,” she said. “And if I were…you know, if I were younger, I might have been inclined to—”
“Oh, my God! You think I’m straight?” Kayla put her hands on her hips. “Why would you think I’m straight?”
“Well…well, you were married, for one.”
“Yeah, I was eighteen!”
“Well, then you said you had that affair with that guy, that agent.”
“That guy’s name was Jennifer,” Kayla said. “They do have female agents, you know.” She took a step back and held up her hands. “Oh, my God. That’s why you said I was playing a dangerous game. You thought I was straight, and I was coming on to you. God, I can’t believe you thought I was straight.” Kayla rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “How embarrassing,” she murmured. “Look. Forget it. Just forget it.”
“Forget it? Forget what?”
“Yeah, forget it. Forget that I ever found you attractive. Let’s just do this stupid babysitting thing and…and forget all about it.”
Murphy stared at her…still in shock. Kayla wasn’t straight? The meaning of that finally hit home. She was gay and she was flirting with her. Kayla found her attractive. Oh, God. Now what? She met her eyes again.
“I…I…”
“Forget it, Murphy. I’m an idiot.”
“No, no, no…I’m the idiot,” Murphy said.
Kayla smiled slightly. “Yeah, okay…I’ll give you that. You are an idiot.”
“Okay. Yeah. Well…then…”
Kayla pointed at the door. “Check on Uncle Ned. We won’t ever talk about this again.”