Close Enough to Touch (Rylee Hayes Thriller Book 1)

by Cade Brogan

  Kenzie stretched, her breasts pressing into her as her fingertips touched the headboard. “What time is it?” she asked, yawning. The stretch was followed by the cutest waking sounds, sounds so familiar, sounds she’d almost, but not quite, forgotten.

  “A little after three,” Rylee answered quietly, kissing her lips. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Oh, shit,” Kenzie muttered, curling her lip as she shook her head.

  “Such language,” Rylee teased, her eyebrows lifting, kissing her again.

  Kenzie extended her lower lip, playfully saying, “I missed my chance.”

  Rylee laughed. “You’ll get another,” she promised. “You were tired.” She kissed the end of her nose. “Poor baby needed her sleep.”

  “I’m awake now,” Kenzie responded, her eyes twinkling with interest.

  “Come on then,” Rylee invited, settling back, and locking gazes.

  Kenzie rolled to top her, lowering down for an incredibly slow, tender kiss on her lips.

  “Mmmm, that was nice,” Rylee murmured, her eyes widening with a sharp intake of breath.

  “It was, huh,” Kenzie murmured back, kissing downward. She paused, suckling strongly until she left a mark on the side of her neck.

  “Haven’t had one of those to explain since the last one you gave me,” Rylee commented softly, licking and then biting her lower lip.

  “I wouldn’t want to know if you had,” Kenzie answered, capturing a nipple between her teeth.

  “Damn you’re good,” Rylee gasped. “Always could take it right to the edge.” She peered into her eyes. “I love you,” she murmured, stroking through the length of Kenzie’s curls. “I always have.”

  “I know,” Kenzie answered softly, lifting to kiss her lips before nibbling her navel, the edges of her scar, and lower. “I love you too,” she whispered, settling between her legs. “I love you so much.”

  “God, Kenz,” Rylee said, arching upward. Her nerve endings tingled like she thought they never would again. It was as if all her synapses had waited for Kenzie’s touch to fire.

  “Mmm,” Kenzie moaned, tasting her fully.

  “You didn’t forget anything,” Rylee said, “did you?”

  “No, nothing at all,” Kenzie murmured, alternating nibbles, soft kisses, and nuzzles. She exposed her with her fingertips, moaning, “Mmmm, you’re so hard.” Then, she pushed inside her while gently stroking her clitoris with her thumb.

  “Deeper, baby,” Rylee begged, her tone desperate and guttural, “as far in as you can go.”

  “I know what you want,” Kenzie whispered, holding her gaze as she entered—over—and—over—and—over.

  “Oh, God…Oh God…Oh God,” Rylee groaned, fisting the bed sheet, at first with one hand, and then both. “Kenz,” she moaned, stiffening, “Oh God, Kenz…I’m coming…”

  ***

  “So, did you sleep at all last night? Kenzie asked, looking up from the scrambled eggs on the stove.

  Rylee slipped her arms around her from behind, snuggling close. “After we made love,” she answered, kissing the back of her neck. “For a little while.”

  “That means you’re gonna work on a max of two hours sleep,” Kenzie said, shaking her head. She pressed the lever on the toaster, meeting her gaze with pursed lips. “What am I gonna do with you?” she asked, taking a breath, and letting it go.

  “Nothing,” Rylee said softly, moving off to do her part. “Plates in this one?” she asked, nodding toward the cabinet to the left of the stove.

  “Yeah,” Kenzie answered curtly, looking up for a fraction of a moment.

  “Don’t worry,” Rylee soothed, coming to her, slipping her arms around her. “It’ll be this way until I catch her. Then, it’ll be better.”

  “Until the next case?” Kenzie asked, tilting her head as she met her gaze.

  “No, longer,” Rylee answered, holding the direct eye contact. “It’s not always this way,” she explained. “Sometimes I work a case without losing any sleep.” She took a breath, exhaling slowly. “It’s just with this one…” She paused, swallowing, and continuing, “Well, it’s different this time.” Her voice faded as the nightmare drifted through her mind. She couldn’t lose her again. It’d kill her for sure this time.

  “Because you’ve got it in your head that I’m at risk,” Kenzie said, shaking her head as she scooped a serving on each plate. “Tabasco’s on the top shelf of the fridge,” she added as the toast popped up.

  “And ketchup too, right?” Rylee asked, knowingly.

  Kenzie looked up, smiling thinly as she caught her eye. “Yeah, and ketchup too,” she responded.

  ***

  Rylee shifted her position. The straight back office chair across from Joanna’s desk was more functional than comfortable. Autopsy number three, she thought, glancing over to Rich’s notebook. He was a fantastic note-taker and she’d be hard-pressed to count how many times he’d caught a significant detail that had been inadvertently left out of a report.

  Joanna took off her glasses, meeting her gaze. “So, with the contact wound to the soft palate,” she continued, “I can understand why you thought this one committed suicide after shooting the others.” She cocked her head. “But now you know he didn’t.” She flipped through a series of images on her iPad, passing the device to Rylee when a particular one was front-and-center. “See right there?” she asked, leaning across, and pointing. “The initial trauma, the fatal blow, was to the back of the head.”

  Rylee studied the image, and then passed it to Rich. She rested her fingers on her chin as she considered the circumstances of the shooting.

  Joanna caught her eye. “Do you understand?” she asked, patiently. “Because if you don’t, we could go through it again.” She returned a stray lock of hair to her bun.

  “Yeah, I think I get it,” Rylee said, her eyes narrowing, wondering why the woman looked so familiar. It was the first time she’d gotten a good look at her out of her garb. “You’re ruling it a homicide,” she continued, “because even though our guy was shot in the mouth, that wasn’t what killed him. What killed him was a whack to the back of his head.”

  Joanna smiled, nodding. “Exactly,” she said.

  “And had he died of the gunshot wound,” Rich added, “death would’ve been instantaneous, not sudden as your findings suggest.”

  Joanna’s lips pressed together, her face tightening, almost irritated that he’d stolen Rylee’s thunder,

  “Thanks for walking us through this one,” Rylee said, smiling. “It’s a little more complex than some.”

  “You’re welcome,” Joanna answered, her gaze lingering as she fingered through a stack on the corner of her desk. “Oh, and here’s the Hollis report,” she added, handing Rylee the document. “Sorry I got behind.” God, you must be on your meds today, Rylee thought.

  “That’s okay,” she responded, “it happens to the best of us.”

  ***

  “So, that was weird,” Rylee said, stepping outside. “Except for a little bit there, she was almost nice.”

  “Yeah, she was,” Rich answered. “See, maybe she was just shy.”

  “Yeah, right,” Rylee chuckled, adding, “meds gets my vote.” She smiled. “Well, at least we got our damn report.”

  “Yes, we did,” Rich responded, nodding. “You’re probably gonna read it tonight.”

  “Nope, not tonight,” Rylee said, her eyes widening as she smiled. “Kenzie’s gonna make lasagna.” She licked her lips, adding, “And then we’re gonna watch a movie.” Probably Desert Hearts. “Gotta pack in all we can before the kid gets home.”

  “Should’ve known,” Rich responded, patting her shoulder. “Make sure she gets you on the other side this time.” He laughed. “Balance out that new look you’re sporting.”

  Rylee shook her head as she turned toward her truck. “I’ll do just that,” she responded, touching her neck, and blushing. “See you tomorrow,” she called o
ut.

  “Yeah, tomorrow,” Rich replied, opening his door. “Be a little late,” he said. “Got an appointment at the bank to co-sign a car loan for my daughter.”

  “Whenever,” Rylee responded, holding up the document she’d just acquired, “first thing I’m gonna do is read this report.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rylee came to a stop, rolling down her window. “Hey there,” she greeted. “Got trouble?”

  “No excuse for this,” Joanna responded, her arms sweeping toward her Nissan, yellow, a color much brighter than her snarly personality. “Not even a year old,” she continued, “and already it won’t start.”

  Rylee pulled into a vacant parking space, two down. “Here, let me take a look,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “Sometimes there’s not too much wrong.”

  Joanna exhaled, crossing her arms. “Thank you,” she said, still frowning.

  Rylee checked the battery, mumbling, “It could be your starter.”

  “My starter,” Joanna screeched. “How could it be my starter? The car’s not even a year old.”

  “Just talking through the problem,” Rylee responded. “Don’t pay any attention to me for now.” She opened the driver’s door, poking her head under the dash on that side. “Not sure whether this model has a starter fuse or not,” she groaned, shifting to a position that was at least minimally comfortable. “Yep, it does,” she announced, smiling into the fuse box. “And that’s your problem. There’s a car parts store a few blocks down. I’ll go pick one up and put it in for you.”

  “That’d be nice,” Joanna responded, still frowning.

  As Rylee shifted to get out, she noticed two intriguing seeds lying under the accelerator. “Probably should call to be sure they have one,” she said, snapping a photo before looking up the number. “Be right back,” she added, driving off.

  ***

  Too bad the evening was getting off to a late start. Three, maybe four more days before the kid—Abby—got home and she hadn’t wanted to waste one minute of it, but here she was.

  “Thank you,” Joanna said, biting her lip. “Had you not stopped, I’d have been thrown terribly behind.” Her gaze lingered uncomfortably.

  “You’re welcome,” Rylee responded. “Glad I could help.” She shook her head. “Just lucky that I could too,” she added, “because I’m not exactly a mechanic.”

  “You were this evening,” Joanna answered, smiling oddly. “But not by luck.”

  “Well, I should go,” Rylee said, clearing her throat. “See ya around.”

  “Yes,” Joanna responded, facing her straight on, “you will.”

  Rylee dialed Kenzie as she drove off. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “It was the right thing to do…Okay then...I’ll stop by, pick up some clothes, have a quick conversation with the Calissis’…” She checked her watch. “And be there in an hour.” She smiled, saying, “Yeah, love you too.”

  ***

  Rylee paused at the mailboxes located in the front of her building—small, brass, and rectangular. She inserted her key in the one marked two-ten, collected two bank statements, four bills, and several pieces of junk mail. She dropped the junk mail in the waste container before taking the stairs, and knocking on the Calissis’ door. No answer. She checked her watch, concluding that the couple had gone out for dinner. She jotted them a note—Sorry I missed you. Be back Sunday. Rylee Hayes—sliding it under the door for them to find later. She collected clothes for the rest of the week, a bottle of wine, and food for Buckshot before making her way back to her truck. The traffic was heavier than she anticipated, making her late. “Sorry,” she said, sheepishly, coming up the front stairs.

  Kenzie smiled, hugging her, and kissing her lips. “No need to be,” she said. “I just turned down the heat. Extra baking time just makes lasagna all the better.” She fingered through the back of Rylee’s hair, removing her cap, and setting it on the table. “You go on up and get changed,” she added. “I’ll finish up with the salad and pour us some wine.” She smiled, kissing her again, saying, “It’s so fun to have you in my life again.”

  Rylee palmed her cheek, holding her gaze tenderly. “For me too,” she said, pushing worries about how they’d go forward out of mind. She pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

  “Mmmm,” Kenzie moaned. “Much more of that and we can skip dinner.”

  “Speak for yourself, my dear,” Rylee responded, kissing the tip of her nose. “I haven’t had your lasagna for years.”

  ***

  Joanna switched off her headlights, traveling the last block in the dark. She poked her tongue gently into her cheek when she passed the blue house. Of course, she’d be here. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched. Of course, she would. She parked out of sight, swiped the screen, and clicked the icon. Two more days and she’ll be out of the picture, she told herself. You just need to stay focused. She minded the device until the low-flow indicator spun and stopped, documenting the time, eight-fifteen, and the duration of the shower, twelve-minutes. Kenzie’s habit was to take one before she changed into her nightclothes. The complicating factors were that she could do it anywhere between seven and eleven in the evening—and of course, Rylee’s whereabouts. But she’d dispatched women who’d had lovers before without problems and she’d do it this time. It just took additional planning and coordination, that’s all. Just making it interesting, she thought, lifting her binoculars to her forehead. She squeezed marks into the cushiony part of her steering wheel, fighting the urge to look away when Kenzie folded into Rylee’s arms. That’s your penance, she told herself, to watch. She drew in a breath, her muscles becoming rigid, when the blinds shut.

  ***

  “So,” Rylee said, releasing a breath, “your kid gets home, when?” She pushed a piece of broccoli around her plate without forking it.

  “Saturday,” Kenzie answered, swallowing.

  “Okay,” Rylee said, her voice fading off with a slow nod. “Just wondering,” she added, pushing the same vegetable to the opposite side.

  “Do you not like broccoli?” Kenzie asked softly. “Because you used to like it just fine.”

  “I like it,” Rylee answered, making a face. “Just thinking, that’s all.” She forked the crown, chewed, and swallowed. “See,” she added, meeting her eye, “I like it fine.”

  “I see,” Kenzie said, sighing.

  “What?” Rylee responded. “What’s wrong?”

  “You don’t know?” Kenzie asked, pressing her lips together tightly.

  Rylee exhaled, shaking her head. “It’s just hard, Kenz,” she said softly. “It’s gonna take me a little time.”

  “I know,” Kenzie murmured, “but we have to talk about it.”

  “I know,” Rylee responded.

  “I can’t change what’s already happened,” Kenzie continued, taking a breath. “Not that I was married and not that I have a daughter.” She held her gaze, gently. “We have to find a way to move past this, Rye.”

  “I know,” Rylee said, biting her lower lip. “It’s just hard, that’s all.”

  “You’ll like her once you get to know her,” Kenzie continued, smiling thinly. “I know you will.” She shook her head. “I mean don’t get me wrong,” she added, “Abby can be a handful sometimes, but you’ll like her.”

  “So, how about her dad?” Rylee asked, her teeth grinding. “Does he come around?”

  Kenzie reached across to squeeze her hand. “No,” she soothed, “not at all.” She felt tears burn behind her eyelids. “Abby misses him, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” She shook her head, her voice monotone. “Once I left, it wasn’t long before he was done.”

  Rylee nodded, pursing her lips. “So, what are you gonna tell her?” she asked. “I mean, about us.”

  Kenzie swallowed, her head shaking slowly as she looked away. “I don’t know yet,” she said softly.

  “That’s what I thought,” Rylee responded, pushing back from th
e table. “How hard can it be to just tell her the truth?” she asked, pausing for painfully direct eye contact. “I’ll be back,” she mumbled, shaking her head as she glanced to the corner. “He needs to go out.”

  “Sooner or later,” Kenzie said, following her as she clipped the leash on Buckshot, “we have to talk this through.”

  “I know,” Rylee responded, tugging on it, and saying, “come on, Buckshot.”

  ***

  It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, just old; not dead, just quiet; the kind of place she’d expect Kenzie to call home. Buckshot planted his paws and dropped his nose. “Come on,” Rylee urged, tugging softly. “Let’s walk.” They made their way down the driveway, turning right when they got to the sidewalk, uneven, and crumbling at the corners. Cars lined both sides of the street. Someone had company. She scanned license plates as she walked, not looking for anything in particular, just noticing—Illinois—Illinois—Illinois—Massachusetts—Illinois... Gaudy colors must be in this year, she thought. She was still tuned into the different makes and models even though she was no longer on patrol. She glanced at the house nearest the out of state car. It was a two-story like Kenzie’s, only with black shutters. She looked over her shoulder before continuing across the schoolyard, seeing no one. “Come on, Buckshot.” She turned the corner, wishing she hadn’t been so short with Kenzie, and accepting that her inability to change history was the way it was. So you have to make a decision, she told herself. You have to either deal with the kid or walk away. It made little difference how well they got along; Abby would always be a living reminder that Kenzie had left her for a guy. That’s it, she thought, pressing her lips together, that’s your choice, deal with it or say goodbye. She swallowed hard; kicking a stone down the block, and watching it roll to the alley. It was as if time stopped under that streetlight. When it resumed, she turned around—Illinois—Illinois—Massachusetts…