Forever Found

by Allyson Charles

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Hooking his thumbs under his duty belt, Jerome rocked onto the balls of his feet. “I’m hoping your friend here might have remembered some more information today. Last night he wasn’t so helpful.”

  Gabe ground his jaws together. Jerome was only doing his job, he told himself. They both wanted the same thing. But after a childhood being taught to keep his trap shut around police, he was finding it a hard habit to break.

  “I’ve got nothing more to tell you.” Gabe walked to a nearby bench and picked up his water bottle.

  One of Jerome’s eyebrows arched upward. “There’s a lot of real estate in Crook County. You don’t want to add any details on how you picked that warehouse? Did Marla find it? I noticed you and she drove away in separate cars. You didn’t go there together.”

  Gabe had no response to that. Anything he said could get Marla in trouble, too.

  “What is your relationship with Ms. Popov?” Jerome asked. “Were you two on a date?”

  “Yeah,” Gabe said, his face deadpan. “I took her to that warehouse on a date.”

  The cop missed the sarcasm. He shook his head slowly. “Seems like an odd location for a bit of nookie.”

  “I’ve nookied in worse.” Dax fidgeted with the basketball, rolling it up and down his hip. “Nooked? Nookered? Anyway, there was this cave off of Superior, full of—”

  “Christ. It wasn’t a date with Marla.” Although now that he said the words ‘date’ and ‘Marla’ aloud together, they didn’t seem so absurd. Why had he been fighting their attraction so hard? She wasn’t quite as bad as he’d thought she was, and besides, she had only been offering sex. She hadn’t proposed.

  He blew out a breath. Christ, he was going to cave. He had zero willpower. Gabe squirted some water in his mouth and dropped the bottle back on the bench. “Marla was concerned about the dogs and wanted to join in the search. Too bad the police didn’t bother to nose around.”

  The radio clipped to Jerome’s shoulder crackled, and he pressed a button to silence it. “The police need warrants. You’re lucky the building’s owner had no interest in pressing charges against you and Marla for breaking and entering. He seemed more concerned with the potential liability that his building had been used for a criminal purpose.”

  Gabe massaged the back of his neck with one hand. “Are we done here? I have nothing more to tell you.” Let Jerome think what he would. There was no use in dredging up family skeletons, not if Gabe could be sure the Morettis weren’t involved.

  “We’re done,” Jerome said with all the deceptive mildness of a Columbo. “For now.” With a final nod goodbye, he turned and strolled to the street, speaking into his radio.

  “Huh.” Dax bounced the ball on the ground with two hands. “I thought I was the one in our group the cops kept an eye on. That wasn’t what I’d call friendly.”

  Stealing the ball, Gabe turned and took a shot. It bricked off the rim. “Come on. Let’s play.”

  Dax grabbed the ball and made a drive for the hoop, Gabe in his face every step. “It is possible to play and talk at the same time.” He stepped wide and took a shot. It banked off the backboard and sailed through the hoop. “Just saying.”

  “I prefer my game without a lot of beauty-parlor chitchat.” He went for a three-pointer, trying to ignore Dax. Instead, his mind turned to Jerome. And Marla. The shot missed the rim by a foot.

  “You never want to talk, but come on, no man is an island.” Dax jumped for the rebound and took the ball out to half court.

  That was debatable. Gabe had been doing just fine on his own. He had his job. He had a friend or two. He had the social life he wanted: a woman in his bed when the need struck and then gone the next day.

  He rubbed his chest. It felt raw, hollow. Like someone had scooped his insides out. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, and one he didn’t much care for. And it was all Marla’s fault. Why couldn’t she leave him be? If she avoided him like most everyone else did, then he wouldn’t shoot his mouth off and she wouldn’t get all weepy eyed.

  Damn, he hated that look in her eyes. And he didn’t understand it, which ticked him off more.

  He examined Dax. Everyone seemed to like the guy. Even the cop who arrested him and the judge who sentenced him. Marla liked him. Maybe a little too much to Gabe’s way of thinking. But Dax seemed to get people. Maybe he would have some ideas about Marla’s behavior.

  Gabe hip-checked Dax and snagged the ball. He took it to the free-throw line and dribbled in place. “I didn’t think about Marla getting in legal trouble last night.” He’d been more worried about her getting hurt physically. She would piss off a lowlife in under two seconds flat with that smart mouth of hers.

  “She’s probably got a law firm on speed dial.” Dax feinted for the ball. “I wouldn’t worry about that one.”

  “Yeah.” Gabe dribbled slower and slower. But he did worry, damn the woman. “She was ticked with me last night.”

  Dax stole the ball and made an easy lay-up. “You were the one I heard bellowing like a castrated bull.” He came to stand before Gabe, the ball resting between his forearm and his hip. “And I’ve never seen Marla lose her cool. But if anyone could piss her off, it would be you.”

  Gabe frowned. “I don’t know what it was that could have set her off. She was the one sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.” Following him. Ruining his chances of catching whoever was running the fights. Taking one of the dogs without going through the shelter’s approval process. She was still acting like she was Queen Bee. Why was he the one feeling guilty?

  Dax cocked his head. “What did you say? I’m sure we could pinpoint what set her off without much trouble.”

  Gabe huffed. “I only said she needed to mind her own business or else she could get hurt.”

  “Yeah, telling a woman to mind her beeswax is never a smooth move. But she’s heard that from you before. What else did you say?”

  “Nothing!” Gabe threw his hands in the air. “In fact, I complimented her. Told her she was good at her socialite stuff so she should stick with that.”

  “Her socialite stuff,” Dax repeated slowly.

  “Yeah, you know. Throwing parties and fundraisers.” She’d already brought in some new donors for the shelter. She was good at it. He raked a hand through his hair. “Jesus, she followed me into the warehouse wearing heels and a skirt, with a poodle as backup. Of course, I had to tell her she was an idiot for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. She needs to leave this shit to someone who can take care of himself.”

  Dax’s eyes bulged. “You didn’t.”

  Gabe ran his words through his head again. He shrugged. “Yeah. What’s the big deal?”

  Dax dropped his forehead into his palm. “You condescended to her, demeaned her, and told her she wasn’t as competent as you. And now you’re surprised she got upset? I’m surprised she didn’t take a two-by-four to your car.”

  “She’d never hurt a classic,” Gabe said. “Besides, you don’t know what you’re talking about. It wasn’t like that.” Was it? He hadn’t meant it that way. But unless Marla had some hidden ninja skills, she had to face some physical realities. Men could overpower women. Hurt women. And he didn’t want anything like that to happen to her.

  But maybe he’d said it wrong. He’d tried to be extra sensitive to Marla last night, seeing as how she had her heart in the right place. And he hadn’t wanted to see that reproachful look on her face.

  But he’d managed to put it there. Again. Even when trying to be sensitive. His stomach clenched. He’d never cared about how he made people feel before. Why did he care now? He gritted his teeth. He didn’t. He didn’t care now. Nothing had changed.

  He held his hands up for the ball, and Dax threw it to him. Gabe stepped to the line and took a shot.

  If only he knew she was okay.

&
nbsp; The ball bounced back to him, and he passed it to Dax. “It’s not condescending to point out the obvious.” Why he felt the need to defend himself, Gabe wasn’t quite sure. But even the simplest person would have to acknowledge the truth of that statement.

  “I don’t know, dude,” Dax said. “She saved Forever Friends. And I heard last year she got that drug clinic for teens off the ground. And that she was the driving force behind the state legislature passing that funding bill for an ombudsmen service to monitor residential care facilities. She can do a lot.”

  “Schmoozing and writing checks,” Gabe mumbled. Wasn’t that what he’d said in the first place? She was good at the socialite stuff. His intestines knotted. But it was more than signing her name in a checkbook. She had brains. And guts. And could get shit done.

  “She’s like Bruce Wayne,” Dax continued. “Ooh, I’d love to see her in a latex Batgirl suit. With that pink and blond hair and that smirky mouth, I bet she’d rock the cowl.”

  “You’re an ass. And her hair isn’t pink. It’s more apricot and strawberry.” And now the image of Marla in black latex was firmly planted in his brain. His mouth watered, and he glared at Dax. The bastard better not have the same image in his mind. “And don’t you have to pack?”

  “Yeah, another Puppy Express mission. Maybe I’m like Batman.” Dax picked up a sweatshirt from the bench and pulled it on.

  They headed for the street. “Where are you going this time?” Gabe asked.

  “Wisconsin. Want me to bring you back a cheese wheel?”

  “No.”

  Dax tapped him with his elbow. “How about first pick of one of the little dudes I bring back?”

  “Definitely no.” Gabe turned on the cement walk that cut through his front lawn. A limb from a large oak scraped against his shingled roof. He’d have to replace some of those. He climbed to his porch. Maybe buy some extra shingles, help his cousin with their roof.

  “Why not?’ Dax trotted up the steps after him and darted in front of Gabe. The guy was annoyingly relentless. Kind of like an exuberant golden retriever puppy that had yet to be trained. “You love dogs,” Dax said. “You have a nice yard for them. You could take one to work with you. Why won’t you get a dog?”

  Gabe glared at Dax until he stepped out of the way. “I’ve already told you,” he said, unlocking the door. “I don’t have the time.” Gabe did love dogs, but the bond between dog and owner was sacred. Gabe no longer saw reproach in every dog’s eyes. He’d helped hundreds more animals than he’d ever been a part of hurting.

  That didn’t mean he deserved one.

  Dax sucked in a breath behind him. Getting ready to spew more drivel, no doubt, so Gabe beat him to the punch. “I’ll see you when you get back.” Forcing his legs to take the stairs three at a time, Gabe hurried into his bedroom and closed the door.

  He stripped off his clothes, tossing them in the direction of his hamper, and plodded into his attached bathroom. His muscles felt like he’d run a marathon instead of a short pick-up game. Exhaustion dragged at him. He was tired of feeling guilty. Guilty about not stopping the fights when he was a kid. Guilty about his words to Marla. He was tired of hurting her. His dislike had seemed so simple when they’d first met. It had been easier to fight.

  The spray of the water was ice cold, but Gabe stood under it for the minute it took to heat up. He squeezed liquid soap into his palms and rubbed them together, getting a good foam. With brisk efficiency, he cleaned his sweaty skin.

  If only it were that easy to clean away his sins.

  Chapter Eight

  The text was just the two sentences. Brief. Dispassionate. To the point. But her father’s messages always were.

  You won’t be needed for the board of directors. We found someone more qualified.

  The familiar stab at being passed over was dulled with a tinge of relief. She hadn’t truly wanted the position. She’d known her father’s charitable foundation was struggling in its search. Nonprofit boards didn’t pay and they demanded a lot of time. She hadn’t been looking forward to the frequent trips to Detroit.

  So, this was a good thing. Sliding her phone into the back pocket of her shorts, she blinked against the burn at the back of her eyelids. Her father’s not thinking she was good enough had worked out in her favor.

  Hoover trotted past, another stuffed toy in his mouth. He dropped it next to the dog bed in the corner of the living room where Maddie lay curled in a ball. The silk bed was surrounded with a wall of plush stuffed animals, tennis balls, and lengths of rope. Hoover had been bringing over his new toys to share all day, but so far, her girl seemed unimpressed with the offerings.

  Having a new dog in the house was going to be a big transition for Mad. The Mexican hairless had taken his new surroundings in with aplomb. Made a circuit around the house, sniffed every corner, and then treated it as his own. Less than twenty-four hours, and he was king of the castle.

  Maddie was finding sharing her home a more difficult adjustment.

  Sitting next to the heap of toys, Marla tucked her bare feet up under her butt. She rubbed Hoover’s chest. “Such a sweet boy.” Picking up a plush pink giraffe with turquoise stripes, she waggled it in front of Mad. “Look what Hoov brought for you.”

  Mad twitched an eyebrow, and shot out a paw, pinning the giraffe’s leg to the bed. Then she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. The poodle version of giving her the silent treatment.

  “I know you liked it being just the two of us.” Marla picked Hoov up and cradled him to her chest. She gently ran her finger over his nose, tracing the old wound. “But this little guy needed a family. And I was hoping you could show him the ropes around here.”

  Maddie sneezed and shook her head, her red leather collar jangling.

  Sighing, Marla stroked her girl’s head. “You’ll get used to him.”

  Someone pounded on the front door, and Maddie jumped to her feet and growled.

  Marla kissed her on the nose. “We like company, remember? Now, stay with Hoover. I’ll be right back.” Plopping Hoov onto the floor, she rolled to her feet. Marla stretched, then padded to the door.

  The door rattled again it its frame.

  “I’m coming, cool your jets,” she muttered. She flung the door open, then jerked her head back. “Oh. It’s you.”

  “What do you mean, ‘Oh, it’s you’?” Gabe brushed past her, stomping into her house like he owned it. A swirl of leaves and drizzle followed in his path. “Didn’t you look out your little window right next to the door?”

  “No.” Easing the door shut, she leaned back against it. She cocked her head. Her anger of the night before had evaporated, leaving a lingering sense of sadness. Gabe hadn’t told her anything that he hadn’t said before. His feelings about her obviously hadn’t changed. Which raised the question: Why was he at her door?

  He ran a hand through his damp hair, and the ends curled around his fingers. Drops of water stained the shoulders of his windbreaker, and the knees of his faded jeans were worn white. He paced her high-ceilinged entry, mud from his sneakers plopping onto her Venetian marble tile.

  Giving a cursory glance to his surroundings, he turned to her, resting his hands on his narrow hips. “Don’t go flinging doors open when you don’t know who’s outside. It’s not safe.”

  “This is Clarion Township, not Detroit.” She crossed one leg in front of the other. “I don’t think it’s a big concern. And you’re making a mess on my floor.”

  His gaze slid down her legs, making her skin tingle everywhere it touched. His chest heaved and he dropped his eyes to the floor. Ducking his head, he toed off his shoes. “Someone’s abusing dogs for profit in our corner of the woods. Do you really think we’re protected just because we live in a small town?”

  She pursed her lips. That was a good point, but she wasn’t about to start living her life in fear. “How did you
know where I live?”

  “You’re not the only one who can play at detective.”

  Hoover raced into the entry and pounced at Gabe’s legs. Maddie trotted behind in a more dignified manner and sat by her mistress. Gabe squatted by the little guy and gave him some love but his eyes didn’t leave Marla. “Isn’t it too cold for shorts? Why do I always have to see you in skirts or shorts?” He stood, holding Hoover in one arm. “This is Michigan, for God’s sake.”

  Her body tensed. “And Michigan is in America, the land of the free. I can wear shorts whenever I want. Maybe I’ll even wear them skiing. You don’t have to look.”

  “Easier said than done!”

  Smoothing her hands down her hips, she took a deep breath. They were falling into a useless pattern of insults and fighting. Time to break the cycle. “Why are you here?”

  “I came to apologize.”

  Great. And now came the mea culpas. At least this time it was Gabe doing the apologizing.

  Hoover yipped. Gabe held the dog up to his face and ran his hands along his small body. “How’s he doing?”

  Marla raised her eyebrows. That was it? All she was going to get? “Hoover’s fine.” She pushed off the door and stepped close to Gabe. “That was your idea of an apology? Coming here and insulting how I dress?” Shaking her head, she brushed past him and stomped into her living room. The foot-stamping didn’t have quite the same effect with bare feet on a pile carpet.

  She picked up a magazine from the coffee table and threw herself into the corner of her plum velvet sofa, curling her legs up against her body. The man was infuriating. She snapped her magazine open. He rejected her. Now he was fixating on her legs?

  Gabe trailed after her, holding Hoov to his chest with one arm. Maddie followed a step behind. The poodle hopped up onto the sofa next to Marla while Gabe wandered around her living room, examining the paintings on her walls, the knickknacks on her shelves. “Hoover? You named him after a vacuum? Is he eating that much?”