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Walking on Her Grave (Rogue River Novella, Book 4)

Page 3

by Leigh, Melinda


  “It’s fine. Thanks for driving me home.” Seth reached for the door handle. He blinked in surprise when Carly got out and rounded the vehicle to offer assistance.

  “You can lean on me,” she said.

  “I’m okay, Carly.” Seth stepped out of the SUV. He didn’t look okay. The nurses had cleaned his burns, but his blond hair was dark with soot and he smelled like ashes and singed hair. Both of those things reminded her how close he’d come to death. Just thinking about what he’d done made her fingertips tremble.

  Seth unlocked the door and went in. Carly hesitated at the threshold. She hadn’t been inside the house since she’d moved out last winter. She’d always waited in the car or on the porch for Brianna. You’re being stupid. She forced herself through the doorway and into the living room. The house was small, but she’d always thought of it as cozy. The dining room was attached to the living room. An arched doorway led into the kitchen.

  Everything looked the same. Exactly the same. Seth hadn’t moved a single piece of furniture. He’d left the ruffled curtains on the windows. The doilies her mother had crocheted still graced the tables. So much for a bachelor pad.

  Their wedding portrait hung on the wall. Carly tried not to look at it, but her gaze was drawn in by their smiling faces. Taken on the back lawn of her parents’ house, the picture symbolized their hopes and dreams for the future, the start of their life together.

  “We were really happy,” Seth said from behind her.

  “And drunk,” she added.

  “That too.” He laughed, sliding around her and walking into the kitchen. The ice dispenser rumbled.

  Carly dumped the plastic bag that held his discharge instructions on the dining room table. Picking up the pink papers, she scanned them. “Do you need some ibuprofen?”

  “No.” He appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He held two tumblers of amber liquid on ice. “Want one?”

  Carly lifted the papers in her hand. “I don’t see alcohol anywhere on these instructions.”

  “It’s implied.” He took a long swallow. Behind the red of his eyes, grief and anger lingered. He held the tumbler out to her. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” Lowering her guard with Seth wasn’t a good idea, but her nerves were raw from nearly losing him. What the hell? Carly accepted the glass and sipped. Whiskey burned a path down her throat and warmed her belly.

  “I smell like an ashtray. I’m going to take a shower.” Seth took his drink with him.

  “You’ll mess up all your bandages.”

  “Then you’ll just have to redo them,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Wait.” Grabbing the plastic wrap from the kitchen drawer, she hurried after him into the bedroom.

  He tossed his shirt into the hamper. “What?”

  “The burn on your wrist needs to stay dry.” Carly drew up short at the sight of his bare torso. He’d shed some pounds since she’d left, not that he’d ever carried much body fat. His muscles were more defined. He’d had his shirt off in the hospital, but she’d been distracted. Now, in the bedroom they’d shared for eight years, she couldn’t not notice the hardened planes of his chest.

  Seth held out his hand. Carly set her drink on the dresser and wrapped his arm from wrist to elbow. “Hold it out of the spray.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She went into the bathroom and started the shower for him. Like every other room in the house, space was tight. A glance in the mirror over the pedestal sink told her she hadn’t totally avoided soot smudges either. She used soap and a washcloth to clean the worst of it away, but her hair smelled like smoke. Seth came into the bathroom. He set his glass on the small chest by the door and dropped his shorts.

  “The water is cool.” Carly looked away, her face hot.

  “Oh, come on. You’ve seen me naked thousands of times.” He rolled his eyes, pulled the shower curtain aside, and stepped into the claw-foot tub.

  Carly went back into the bedroom. She perched on the edge of the bed and tried not to think about all the things they’d done in it. Not an easy task with Seth naked and wet in the next room. He’d always applied his natural intensity to his lovemaking. He gave 110 percent in everything he did, which was why she knew he was grieving for the man he hadn’t saved, and blaming himself.

  Carly drained her glass and went back to the kitchen for another. Then she laid out the first aid supplies. Seth emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. Carly removed the plastic wrap from his arm. Then she gently covered each angry red mark, each small reminder of his courage, with a clean piece of nonstick gauze. The only wound the doctor had been concerned about was the second-degree burn on his forearm. The rest were superficial, but they still looked painful.

  “Do they hurt?” An image of Seth running into the flames streaked into her mind. Well into her second whiskey, Carly rested her forehead against his shoulder. With each sip, she cared less about their issues.

  “Not much.” He glanced at her almost-empty glass. “You’re not driving home, are you?”

  “Like I would leave you alone tonight.” She collected the bandage wrappers and took them into the bathroom. “Mom said she’ll look after Brianna.” She sniffed her hair and smelled ashes. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

  He cleared his throat. “Of course not. Take some clean clothes from my drawer.”

  Carly grabbed one of his T-shirts and a clean pair of gym shorts. She detoured to the kitchen to refill her glass before climbing into the shower. Wanting no reminder of the day’s trauma, she scrubbed the smoke from her skin and hair. The liquor and hot water relaxed her muscles. Dried and dressed, she emerged. The ceiling fan turned a lazy circle over the bed, and the room felt cool on her damp skin. “Did you turn on the air conditioner?”

  Normally Seth slept with the windows wide-open.

  “The last thing I want tonight is heat.” Sipping his whiskey in his boxers, he reclined on a pile of pillows.

  She walked to the bed, leaned down, and inspected his still-irritated eyes. “You should rinse your eyes again. I’ll get the saline.” She turned to go back to the bathroom, but Seth caught her arm.

  He pulled her back onto the bed. He stretched out and pulled her close. She stiffened.

  “Shh,” he said. “I don’t expect anything. I just need to hold you for a few minutes.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have run into that building today. You could have died.”

  “I couldn’t just let those men die without trying to save them,” he whispered into her hair.

  “I know.” A tear rolled down Carly’s cheek. “But I was scared.”

  “Me too.” He rubbed a hand down her biceps. “I’m sorry.”

  Carly sat up and swiped a finger under her eye. “You don’t have to be sorry. I know you’re a hero, and I’ve always loved you for it.”

  “You still love me?” Hope brightened his voice.

  “I never stopped, Seth.” Carly let out a long breath. “I just couldn’t live with you.”

  Letting her go, Seth slid back until he was resting against the headboard. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m trying, Carly. Really trying.”

  “I know you are.” She sipped her drink. The alcohol was loosening her lips. Usually she avoided confrontations with Seth. But tonight her fear for him took over. “I was terrified today that you wouldn’t come out of that building.”

  Seth might be the first person to run into a burning building, but he’d gotten angry when Carly left on nighttime emergency calls. Her job could be dangerous, but she was smart and took precautions. Before her assault last month, she’d always trusted her instincts.

  “One man died anyway.”

  “You did everything you could and then some.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  “If I hadn’t stopped you, you would have run back into that fire when the
re was zero chance of you or the victim getting out.”

  His mouth flattened, and he stared into his drink.

  “Seth, my point here is that I wouldn’t ask you to stand by and watch someone hurt when there was a chance you could save him.” She moved closer and splayed her hand on the center of his chest. His heart beat a steady, reassuring thump against her palm. “I respect your need to help. All I ask for is the same from you.”

  “I respect what you do.” Seth shifted. “I know your job is important.”

  Her job had been a struggle for him to accept from the very beginning. “What could be more important than protecting children who don’t have anyone to look out for them?”

  He turned bleak eyes on her. “I don’t want to fight tonight.”

  “Good. Then maybe you can just listen.” She moved her hand to caress his jaw. “I might not like every single thing about you, but I wouldn’t ask you to change something that’s ingrained in your heart.” She pressed her palm to the center of his chest. “You’re a hero.”

  “You’re all that matters to me.” Seth looped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. His mouth closed on hers. The taste of him, alive and warm, sent a wave of emotions crashing through her. It rolled over all her defenses and flatted her resolve to dust.

  Carly’s inhibitions weakened as his mouth cruised down her neck and over her collarbone.

  She knew she shouldn’t let this happen, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Seth opened his eyes to a myriad of aches—and the memories of an incredible dream.

  Wait. A soft body curled into his side.

  Not. A. Dream.

  Visions and sensations flooded him. Carly rising over him, their bodies fitting together as perfectly as if their separation had never occurred. Almost afraid to look, he turned his head. Long dark hair cascaded over the pillow. Her back was nestled into his side. She was turned away from him, yet touching him. Even in sleep, she didn’t know what she wanted.

  And whose fault was that?

  His.

  He’d spent most of their marriage trying to change her. Why? Wasn’t her strength one of the characteristics that appealed to him? Carly’s devotion to children in need wouldn’t let her stand down when innocent lives under her charge were in danger. Why would Seth try to change her very best quality?

  But last night he’d seen the terror in her eyes. Not fear for her own safety, but fear for him. He’d seen his own insecurity reflected back at him. But she’d let him do what he needed to do, until the risk became pointless—when there’d been no chance that man could be saved. She’d used her head. She’d assessed the situation when he’d wanted to rush to a certain death. Yesterday she’d been the cool one, and she’d saved his life.

  He’d driven her away, but she was here now, in his bed, and last night proved that they were meant for each other. Content, he turned toward her, spooning her softness with his whole body and loving her with his whole heart. His body ached to make love to her again, slowly this time, showing her all the feelings he could never seem to vocalize without pissing her off.

  She stirred and rolled to her back. Her eyes opened. Her gaze swept over the room and landed on him. The regret in her eyes wounded him more than yesterday’s fire.

  She moved away from him, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts.

  Disappointment washed over Seth.

  Carly scrunched the edge of the sheet in her fists. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that. It’s all my fault.”

  “What’s all your fault?” Seth breathed, trying to quell the frustration building in his chest, the tight surge of emotion that inevitably forced the absolute wrong words from his lips.

  She gestured toward the bed. “This.”

  “I love you, Carly. I won’t apologize for enjoying every second of last night.”

  “I’m just not ready, Seth. Sex complicates everything.”

  “Didn’t feel complicated to me. It felt pretty fucking perfect.” Anger added a bite to his words. He forced his mood back into submission. His quick temper and sharp words had done their share of damage to their relationship. If he wanted Carly back, he was going to have to change.

  Her face tightened. “I should go. I have an appointment. If I don’t get moving, I’ll miss it.”

  “Don’t.” He reached for her, but she was already out of range, swinging her long legs over the side of the bed and scurrying to collect her clothes. She held them against her body, covering herself, as she backed into the bathroom. Seth got out of bed, his movements slowed by sore skin and muscles.

  Carly emerged from the bathroom dressed in her smoky clothes from the night before. Her expression had changed to all business.

  He heaved to his feet. “Wait.”

  She hesitated at the doorway. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I should have slept on the couch.”

  “You didn’t hurt me.” He hopped into a pair of jeans. “You can’t go. I’ll drive you.”

  She propped a hand on her hip, her eyes flashing with irritation. “I thought we’d gotten past you wanting to play guard dog on my calls.”

  Seth pulled a T-shirt over his head. “You don’t have your car.”

  “Oh.” She looked away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t get defensive so quickly.”

  “It’s all right.” Seth regretted that he’d always made her feel like she had to defend doing her job. “I’d rather you get mad and talk to me than bolt.” Seth put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m doing my best, but you have to meet me halfway. I can take anything but you shutting me out.”

  She searched his face, then nodded. “I’ll try. But you have to consider marriage counseling.”

  Doubt and irritation flickered in his eyes, but he nodded. “Fair enough.”

  Well, that was a first. The last time she’d suggested a therapist, he’d balked.

  Seth stepped into a pair of athletic shoes. “Where are you going today?”

  “Drop me at my mom’s.”

  “I meant after that.”

  “I have a meeting in the office this morning, and a home visit this afternoon.”

  “Peter Rollins?” Seth asked. He’d been involved in Peter’s arrest in July.

  “I saw Peter yesterday.” Carly’s lips flattened.

  “Peter should be in jail.” Seth went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He left the door open.

  “He deserves a second chance.”

  “He was going to deal a very dangerous drug.”

  “But he didn’t actually sell any of it,” Carly argued. “The judge believed him when he said he found the bag of drugs and was only going to sell it because O’Rourke Properties had let his father go. His family was desperate. He made a bad decision, and he paid for it. His mother almost died. As it is, she’s still in the rehab center.”

  “His mother is an idiot. What was she thinking? Sampling the drug she confiscated from her son?” Seth emerged from the bathroom. “And Peter’s a little liar.”

  On the surface the kid’s story was plausible, but when Seth looked into the kid’s eyes during questioning, he’d seen a player.

  “You think everyone is lying.” Carly crossed her arms over her chest.

  “They usually are.” Seth grabbed his keys. “You shouldn’t go over there alone.”

  The words slipped out before he could stop them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You know what you’re doing. If you need help you’ll call for it.”

  “I will.” Carly looked away. Was she mad or was something else going on with her?

  Seth wasn’t a fan of giving people a break, not where drugs and alcohol and stupid decisions were involved. But for Carly’s sake, he’d back down. She was good at her job, and he needed to trust her to make the right call on Alex Rollins.

  For now.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Seth stepped into the trail
er-size Solitude Police Station. The air-conditioning unit buzzed ineffectually from the window behind the secretary’s desk. Fiftyish, Sheila had been with the department forever. Her fingernails clacked on her keyboard.

  “Good morning, Sheila,” he said.

  “Morning, Seth.” Skinny as a lollipop and just as bright, Sheila paused in her typing to lift a sweating can of cola to her forehead. Her short hair was dyed an eye-searing shade of purple. Her fingernails and eyelids matched. She raked a worried gaze from his face to his wing tips. “How are you? Not too singed, I hope.”

  “Nah. I’m fine.” Seth tugged his dress shirt over the bandage on his forearm. “Is Zane in?”

  “He is.” She waved him toward her boss’s door, which was slightly ajar.

  Seth rapped on the doorframe.

  “Come on in,” Zane called from his desk.

  Seth closed the door behind him. “I have something for you.”

  Zane lifted his brows.

  Seth raised the yellow clasp envelope in his hand. “Ballistics reports on the bullets that killed Roy Krueger and JD Hearne.”

  “Well?” Zane reached for the envelope.

  “Test results confirm our suspicions. Walt Burrowes’s .22-caliber handgun killed Roy and JD.” Seth eased into the single chair facing Zane’s desk.

  Zane slid the papers out of the envelope and scanned them. “These my copies?”

  “Yes.” Seth nodded. “Flip to page two. Walt’s gun also fired the shot that killed a dealer on the coast a few weeks back.”

  “Shit.” Zane scanned the pages, dropped the report on the blotter, and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe all this has happened here. This used to be such a quiet town. My biggest worries used to be domestic disturbances and underage drinking.”

  “Those days are long gone.”

  Zane reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a file. He flipped it open. “Let’s look at our timeline. In May, Police Chief Bill Taylor died of cardiac arrest.” Zane looked up. “Though we now know that C-22 likely caused his heart attack.”

 

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