Uncertain Calm (Uncertain Suspense Series Book 1)

by Jamie Lee Scott

  I sat for at least ten minutes wondering if he’d left the house all together. I looked around at his kitchen, with its granite countertops and concrete floors stained a dark shade of cocoa. The cabinets were a light wood of some kind, and nothing but a few appliances graced the counters. At one end, I saw a wine cooler, and a floor to ceiling liquor cabinet. The entire wall was a mini-bar. I wondered if he drank a lot.

  I had to give him credit on the wine, it was very good. I wasn’t a connoisseur, but I loved a good wine. Heck, I live where the best wine in the world was made, I should know something. And yet we were drinking a wine from Chile.

  When he returned, he tossed a piece of paper on the table. “My IT staff works at night. They were able to pull a file. These are all of the people with the first name Rosa, who’ve worked for us in the last six months.” His demeanor had turned cold.

  When he sat, he tossed his napkin over his half-eaten plate of food, and tossed back the remainder of his glass of wine.

  I hesitated to pick up the sheet of paper, but my case came before my personal life. A murderer was running the streets. My professional side took over. I looked. My heart sank. Four names. All still employed. All office staff, and no one at the location where Danny worked. Even more troubling was the fact that all of the women were over the age of forty.

  “Happy? Are you staying for dessert, or did you get what you came for?” He picked up both of our plates and took them to the kitchen.

  I put the paper down on the table and stood. “I hadn’t planned to talk about my case at all. In fact, during the course of this lovely evening, we’ve discussed it for less than fifteen minutes.”

  I helped scrape the food into the garbage as he rinsed the plates and silverware.

  “That’s only because I cut to the chase. I knew what you were here for. I really only wanted to get to know you. I liked you.” He tossed the silverware in the dishwasher.

  I put the plate I scraped down on the counter. Then I stood on my toes, leaned in and kissed Thomas on the lips.

  At first he resisted, like a spoiled child, but I didn’t give up. I leaned in closer, my breasts pressing against his chest. My taut belly and hips leaning into his. It was the movement in his groin that gave him away. His lips parted, our tongues tangled, and soon Danny wasn’t even a memory.

  His hands were in my hair, and mine were around his back. We couldn’t get close enough to each other. Our lips pressed hard into each other, and our teeth clicked. I wanted him to lead me to his bedroom, undress me, and trail his hands down my body. Then I remembered the wound, the scar, and I stopped. I backed away.

  “Does that seem like I was here just to get information for my case?” I straightened my hair and wiped the saliva from my face.

  “Uh, if so, you’ll go quite a way for your case,” his voice was breathless. “We can’t do this, though.”

  My heart thumped. I frowned.

  “I mean, I like you, Harper. I want this to maybe go somewhere, and I don’t date girls I have sex with on the first date. I sleep with them, then I never call them, or see them, again. It’s a one-night stand.” He squinted with his right eye.

  I laughed. “That’s so funny. When I was on my way over here, I said, ‘If I don’t like him, I’ll just have sex with him, and get laid. If I like him, I’ll be a good girl.’”

  Thank goodness Thomas laughed, too.

  “I really think it’s best we call it a night. If I have more wine, I might do something I shouldn’t, and driving home will be illegal,” I said. I reached for the plate I’d put down. “I’ll help you clean up.”

  Thomas pulled me close. “Can’t we just neck a bit before you leave?”

  I pushed him away. I knew me too well. It had been way too long since I’d felt the touch of a man. I’d go past the point of no return, and I really wanted to see Thomas again.

  “I can’t. I know me too well. But we can plan a second date. For, say, tomorrow night?” I winked.

  He groaned.

  “What?”

  “I’m out of town for at least two days.” He walked back to the table to get the rest of the dishes and food.

  How convenient, I thought.

  “Okay, then call me when you’re back.” I expected to never hear from him again.

  “I’ll call you before I get back, just to hear your voice.” He kissed me on the forehead.

  We finished the dishes and he walked me to the car. It was a short date, and an early night, but I had a lot to do in the morning, and hopefully, I’d get to meet with Gloria.

  I didn’t remember the drive from the gate at Thomas’ to the end of Redwood Ridge Terrace, I only remember my pickup traveling faster and faster. Too fast for the curves of the road. Then somehow the back of my seat dropped back, and I fell back with it. Before I could sit up, I lost control of the truck, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the truck from swerving into the ditch along the side of the road.

  Just before my truck’s tires hit the soft gravel on the road’s shoulder, my window rolled down halfway, and something grabbed my hand. It had me by the wrist and pulled at me, trying to drag me out of the half-opened window, as my truck slammed into the ditch, and my foot pressed harder on the gas. Ochoa!

  All I could think was the grass is so dry, and the bottom of my truck would be hot. Fire. Then my pickup slammed into the wall of dirt and everything went black, as I heard Ochoa laughing, saying something about peeing his pants.

  When I came to, Thomas was in the cab of the pickup with me. He sat right next to me. When I first saw him, I screamed, thinking he was Ochoa.

  “It’s just me, Thomas.” His voice calm, in control.

  “Thomas?” I looked around me. “What happened?”

  “Maybe you did have a little too much to drink?” He sounded a bit scared now.

  I knew I hadn’t. I’d had less than a glass of wine. And he’d opened a new bottle for me, so I knew the bottle wasn’t drugged. Ochoa. Oh, shit, Ochoa. He was going to kill me.

  “It wasn’t the wine,” I shook my head. “How did you find me? How did you know?”

  “I was standing on my porch, and Blue followed you down the driveway. I never saw your headlights make the turn onto the main road. I waited a minute or so, thinking I’d just missed it. Blue came back, barking frantically. I thought I’d better check, just to make sure.”

  “Thank goodness for Blue.” Gotta love dogs.

  “So I drove here, and found you. I have a chain in the back of my truck. If you’re okay, I’ll pull you out.” Thomas climbed out the passenger door, and made the trek up the side of the steep ditch.

  I waited for his signal, then braced myself as his huge truck pulled mine out of the ditch.

  Once we were on the road, he asked, “Why don’t you come back to the house? I promise I won’t hit on you. I’d like to keep an eye on you, and maybe take you to the hospital if you need it.”

  I tensed. “No hospital. I’m fine. But I will take you up on coming back to the house for a bit.”

  My tough Ford didn’t even have a scratch, just dirt and grass stuck in the grill and bumper. My head hurt like a bitch, and I’d have a lump in the morning, but at least it didn’t break the skin. I must have hit it on the windshield when the front end hit the ditch. I was surprised the airbags hadn’t deployed. I touched my head; it smarted, but no blood.

  Back at the house, Thomas started a shower for me and set out a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt. What a way to end a date. He’d turned down the bed in his guest room, and said he’d be sleeping in there with me.

  “On top of the sheets. I want to wake you up every hour, to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” He pushed the wet hair back off my face and kissed my forehead.

  Every cell in my body wanted to strip my clothes off and jump him, but I just smiled up at him.

  “So what happened? Did you swerve to keep from hitting a deer?”

  I got lucky; it was just a minor accident. I
f it had been worse, I could have died. How much longer could I keep my secret? Ochoa had only been back in my life a matter of days, and this time, I thought he might actually kill me.

  “If I tell you this, you’re probably going to think I’m crazy, which I am, and kick me out.” I climbed under the covers, so it would be more difficult for him to remove me from the house.

  “I’m a little nuts in my own way, so spill it.” He sprawled out next to me on top of the covers.

  I leaned back against the pillows and thought about where to start. At the beginning was best, I thought. So I told him about the kidnapping, Chief Donovan, my ex-husband, and coming back to work. I told him how Ochoa was with me all the time. About the dreams.

  “He was trying to pull me from the truck as it hit the ditch. But he wasn’t trying to save me, he was trying to get the truck to roll over me.” As I said it, I realized how crazy it sounded.

  “Do you want to die?” he asked, as he reached out and held my hand.

  “No, I’ve never wanted to die. I love my life. That’s why I don’t understand.” I leaned way back on the pillows and closed my eyes. “And I can’t tell anyone, because they’ll make me take leave. And I can’t take leave, because then this case I’m working will have to start all over again with a new cop, and the leads will die. I want this killer found. I will tell someone when I’m finished, I promise.” I lifted my head and looked at Thomas to see his reaction.

  He was on his side now, looking at me, concern heavy on his face. “You’ve told me, and that should help relieve some of the burden. At least I hope.”

  “I understand if you want to show me the door. Who needs this kind of baggage? Women are bad enough. But a woman with imaginary gang members trying to rape and kill her, and one who’s killed people, that’s a bit much.” I pulled the covers off and sat up.

  Thomas put his arm over my lap. “Stop. You aren’t going anywhere. We all have our own baggage. Mine will come to light soon enough.”

  He pulled the covers back over me.

  I sighed and decided not to fight. I was done fighting. I needed some calm, and Thomas was my calm. I rolled over to face him.

  “Not what you expected for a first date, huh?”

  He smiled. “Best first date ever. Except that you were in an accident, and you’re going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. Let’s get some sleep.”

  I reached for the light on my side of the bed. “Thanks. Good night.”

  I was exhausted. I hoped Ochoa was, too, and would leave me be.

  I heard Thomas say, “I have my timer set for every hour. I’ll wake you.”

  Silently, I cursed. I was going to be so tired in the morning. But as I fell asleep, I had a smile on my face. I felt a soft kiss on my cheek.

  CHAPTER 16

  True to his word, Thomas woke me every hour, at least until around four in the morning. Around six, I decided I’d better get up and head home. I had to make the drive into town, feed the horses, and get ready for work. Besides, I wanted to slip out of there before Thomas woke up.

  In truth, I was mortified about the events of the night before. I couldn’t believe I’d let my mental state get me to the point of causing a car accident. It was time to own up to my issues and get some help. I’d talk to Wyatt, not telling him everything, but enough to let him know I thought I should talk to a psychiatrist, and work through my issues. Then I’d lose Thomas’ phone number, so I didn’t text or call him like a crazy jilted woman, when he didn’t ever call me again.

  I couldn’t believe I’d shared my Ochoa haunting with him. But then again, I’d slept through the night with no nightmares. If you want to call being woken up every hour sleeping through the night.

  I rolled over to see Thomas had beaten me to the slipping out early punch. Beside me on the bed was a note.

  Had a charter flight at 6 am. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. By the way, this doesn’t count as sleeping together. I’d still like a second date. Thomas

  I jumped out of bed, not quite so mortified, then sat back down just as fast. My head pounded, and I touched my fingers gingerly to my forehead. Goose egg. Trying again, I braced my right hand on the mattress, and stood with my legs a little wider for balance. Better. I walked very slowly to the bathroom, to look at myself in the mirror.

  I would not be wearing my mandatory work hat for at least a few days. Not sure how that would go over, and if it meant desk duty, I’d do my investigation from a desk. Or maybe I’d wear it on the back of my head. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to brush my mop of hair. I tried to finger comb it and almost vomited from the pain. I hated lying, but I’d have to come up with a good story about how I got the bump.

  I decided to wear Thomas’ clothes home. It’d be a good excuse to see him again, if he decided to change his mind. Oh no, it wouldn’t. I’d mail them to him. I wasn’t going to be that girl.

  By the time I arrived at the station, my blue forehead had a heartbeat of its own, and I knew I wasn’t going to be hiding it. I didn’t bother with makeup, because there was no way I was touching the damn thing. Thank goodness my truck was in my garage, and I had my Explorer for work. I had no compunction to get the dirt and grass from the bumper.

  I walked in like I looked normal. I went straight to my computer to update the Rosa information, when my cell phone rang. Speaking of Rosas.

  “Officer Leigh?”

  “Rosa?”

  “I can talk, but only for a few minutes. The man you’re looking for, the one who raped me. His name is Juan Garcia. Impact Growers. He was my supervisor.”

  I could barely hear her, she whispered so quietly.

  “Juan Garcia?” I was way off base.

  I was sure the whole thing was based around TBA Almond Growers. I was thrilled Thomas would in no way be part of the murder investigation. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Is he working today?”

  “I have to go.” The line went dead.

  My head was spinning, and not from the bump.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Wyatt’s voice was way too chipper.

  I turned too fast, and I nearly passed out. Once my vision cleared, I saw he had two takeout cups of coffee in his hands.

  “I stopped that the Corner Store. Half coffee, half white chocolate caramel cappuccino, just the way you like it.” He handed me a cup.“Oh shit, what the hell happened to you? He reached out to touch my forehead.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t touch it. It hurts.” I leaned away.

  “What happened?”

  “I had a little too much wine, and I didn’t see the glass. Slammed into it.” Not really a lie, right?

  “Since when are you drinking wine?” He sounded suspicious of my story.

  “I was at a friend’s house. I didn’t know the sliding glass door had been closed. I was looking down, and blam, slam. Shit, it hurt.”

  “Bet your ass hurts, too.” He sat down on the chair next to me and took the lid off his coffee and handed mine to me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you fell on your ass after smashing your head.”

  I just gave him a sarcastic smile.

  “Still knee deep in Danny Cabrera?”

  “Yes. I talked to the forensic pathologist yesterday. Have you talked to her? Seen the report yet?” I wanted to be the one to tell him about the shot to Danny’s right shoulder.

  “I have the report on my desk. I haven’t had a chance to look through it.”

  “I’ll put it all in the murder book. He was shot with a .38. Dr. Robards said most of the gang banger corpses she’s autopsied over the years have been killed with .22 or 9mm. So your gang theory keeps getting skimpier and skimpier.”

  “Okay, Harper.” Once again, condescending.

  I wanted to toss my hot coffee on him.

  “And,” I drew out the word, “there was a bullet that grazed his right shoulder. That would have been on the far side, away from me. An
other reason to believe I wasn’t the original target.”

  Wyatt nodded. “I’ll give you your theory. We can start looking into your line of inquiry. I’m going to let the gang shooting, and you being the target go, for now.”

  I couldn’t believe he was admitting defeat. But I wasn’t about to say anything out loud, and ruin the great morning.

  “Only there’s a snag. We, or I, was looking in the wrong place. It’s not the almond place. It’s the vineyard. Well, the Impact Growers, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” He blew on his steaming coffee.

  “Rosa called me this morning. She only stayed on the line a moment. She gave me a name. Juan Garcia. He’s her supervisor at Impact Growers. We can charge him with rape, but she has to come forward and testify. We can’t charge him without a victim.” I chugged my coffee. I liked it hot.

  “We don’t even know her last name.” Wyatt leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee. “Besides, should you be out driving with that bump on your head? We don’t need you getting in a wreck in a police vehicle. Maybe we can ride together today.”

  “I got here just fine.” But maybe he was right. “I’m not opposed to riding with you, though.”

  “Let’s take a ride to the vineyard. We can see if Gloria is working, if she even works there. Maybe Danny’s other friends work there, too. These migrant workers tend to flock together, like cops, you know?”

  I nodded.

  Every time it seemed we had a lead, it fell apart. I really thought the almond place had been the right direction. Wyatt thought the gangs were the right lead; I thought maybe he still did. Speaking of gangs, our time together might be the right time to tell him about my need for a therapist. But then again, Ochoa hadn’t reared his head since the previous night.

  “I’m not sure going out to the vineyard is such a great idea. I mean, it’s early in the day, and all of the workers will be in the fields. It’s harvest season. We’d have to find out which vineyard they were working today.”