Scorched

by Laura Griffin

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m going to clean up.”

  She shut herself in the bathroom and took a lukewarm shower. She changed into a new T-shirt before calling Ben for an update.

  “Hey, my favorite lab geek,” he said cheerfully. “I was just about to call you.”

  “Tell me you have something about Weber.”

  “Just an address.”

  “First good news I’ve heard all day.”

  “Don’t get too excited. It’s another post office box, this one in a place called Briggs, Utah.”

  “That’s where I am now. Someone gave us a lead on a ‘Chuck’ Weber who lives here, but they didn’t have a street address.”

  “I don’t, either, but I’m working on it. I’m searching postal records for whoever rented that box, but this firewall’s surprisingly good. I’ll call you when I get something.”

  “Thanks, Ben. I don’t know how I can repay you for all your help.”

  “I do. This crazy woman showed up at my house tonight, and she’s staging a sit-in in my kitchen until I let her talk to you.”

  Kelsey heard muffled sounds on the other end as he handed off the phone.

  “Kelsey?”

  The familiar voice made her heart squeeze. “Hi, Mia.”

  “What is going on? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Didn’t Ben tell you?” Kelsey had asked him to get a message to Mia.

  “Uh, yeah. He gave me your message, but since then I’ve had daily visits from the FBI. They really need to talk to you. Don’t you want to come home?”

  “I can’t. Not yet.”

  “I’m so, so sorry about Blake. Are you all right? Tell me where you are and I’ll come see you.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I’m totally fine.”

  “Kelsey, I’m worried. Are you in Utah somewhere investigating this mess? Because you need to let the FBI handle it. This situation sounds dangerous.”

  “Really, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. Gage is with me.”

  Silence on the other end.

  “He’s just . . . looking out for my safety. While I sort out a few things.”

  “Kelsey . . . oh my God. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Mia more than anyone knew the hell Kelsey had gone through after Gage broke up with her. Mia worked in the Delphi Center’s DNA lab, so they saw each other every day and there was nowhere to hide. And unlike her other friends, Mia knew that her I’m-fine-and-this-is-for-the-better routine was all an act.

  “I mean, I want you to be safe,” Mia said, “but isn’t there someone else you can call? What about one of Blake’s friends at the Bureau? They could protect you from whatever you’re worried about. And they could do it without tearing your heart to pieces.”

  “He’s not tearing my heart to pieces. And I’m not going to sleep with him.”

  Mia snorted.

  “I’m serious. And please, whatever you do, don’t tell anyone at the FBI you talked to me. They’ll be all over you. Pretend you haven’t heard from me until I get back.”

  “And when is that?”

  “Soon. Listen, in the meantime there’s a way you can help. You know Dr. Froehler over at TCMEO?”

  “Sure, he sends me DNA all the time. Why?”

  “Would you mind calling him and asking for a copy of an autopsy photo?”

  Pause. “Is this Blake Reid’s autopsy? What on earth—”

  “I need a photo of some trace evidence that was recovered from his clothing. Tell Froehler the request is for me, and he’ll know which picture to send you. It’s a human hair.”

  “What good is a picture? I can’t run analysis on anything unless—”

  “The evidence isn’t available—just the photo. But we should at least be able to get some class characteristics.”

  The phone went silent.

  “You there?”

  “I’m happy to call Froehler. But Kelsey, I really think you need to reach out to the police here. Or the FBI.”

  “I will. Just not yet. I have to nail a few things down first.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Are you sure you’re safe?”

  “I’m perfectly fine.”

  Mia didn’t sound convinced, but Kelsey managed to get off the phone. She wondered if Gage had been eavesdropping, but when she stepped out of the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, talking on his cell.

  “That’s right. And double pepperoni.” He looked her up and down, and she realized she’d left her jeans on the bathroom floor. She ducked out of sight to finish dressing as he ended his call.

  “Are you sure no one can trace that?” she asked.

  “Not a chance. It’s part of my E and E kit.”

  She stepped out of the bathroom and eyed him warily. “E and E?”

  “Escape and evasion. Don’t worry, it’s clean.”

  “What else is in that thing?”

  “Compass, couple IDs, some first-aid stuff. I’ve got some PowerBars I could break out for dinner, case you don’t want pizza.”

  “I definitely want pizza.”

  “Extra pepperoni, thick crust.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “See? I remember a few things.” He got up from the bed and walked over to where she stood beside the dresser. Her pulse started to race. He eased so close she had to tilt her head back to look at him, but she held her ground.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking, Kelsey . . .”

  Her body tensed because she knew what he was going to say. He rested his hands on her shoulders. He brushed his fingers down the back of her neck and a shiver moved through her.

  “Maybe we made a mistake before.”

  She held her breath and waited.

  “I think we should give things another chance.”

  She’d expected this. Still, her heart pounded as the words reverberated through her brain. Another chance. Part of her desperately wanted to believe him and another part of her—the logical part—knew that this wasn’t real. This wasn’t about second chances. It was about habits that were hard to break and physical yearnings that got sharper with every hour they spent in close proximity.

  “Tell me you’re not thinking about it.”

  “Gage.” She closed her eyes. When she opened them again he was staring down at her, his eyebrow cocked slightly as he waited for her to agree.

  “Let’s be honest here, Gage. This is about sex.”

  “So?”

  She rolled her eyes. “So?”

  “So, I want to have sex with you. What’s wrong with that? Christ, I’ve been watching you walk around half-naked for two days. I’ve been listening to you sleep—”

  “You can’t listen to someone sleep.”

  “Yes, you can.” He plunked his hands on his hips. “And those little sighing noises you make are driving me crazy.”

  “I don’t make noises!”

  “How would you know?” He glared down at her. “And what’s wrong with me being attracted to you? You’re attracted to me, too, you’re just scared to admit it.”

  She stepped away and put her hands up. “You know what? I’m not doing this again. All that’s done.”

  He eased closer and the heat in his eyes made her insides tighten. She knew that look. She knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. She just didn’t want the misery she knew would come later, when he walked away from her again.

  “Look me in the eye and say that again, Kelsey.”

  She didn’t move.

  “See?” He rested his hand on her shoulder and combed his fingers into her hair.

  Emotion welled up in her chest. He leaned his head down to kiss her, but she stepped back.

  “Did you happen to forget that you broke up with me, Gage? You told me it was over. That means finished. No replays just because you’re in the mood and I happen to be available.”

  “That’s not what this is.”

  “Oh, yeah? What is it, then?”

&
nbsp; He folded his arms over his chest.

  “I know about September, Gage.”

  As soon as the words were out, she felt a spurt of panic.

  “What happens in September?”

  “Last September.”

  He watched her, brow furrowed. And then his expression changed as realization dawned.

  Kelsey’s stomach knotted. She’d never meant to bring this up. She’d never wanted to talk about it. She’d never wanted to reveal to him how much he’d hurt her, and she’d been so proud of herself for keeping it inside and never letting him know. But now—inexplicably—she felt the overwhelming urge to just get it out there. Maybe she wanted to prove to both of them how screwed up they’d been.

  “Do you have any idea how much I missed you all those months you were gone?” She heard the tremor in her voice. “Do you even have a clue?”

  He looked down at the floor.

  “Do you know how humiliating it was to find out from someone on Facebook that your tour ended early, that you’d been home two weeks without bothering to call me?” Her throat tightened as the words hovered in the air between them. “How do you think that felt, Gage?”

  “Last summer . . .” He looked at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit, last summer was bad, Kelsey. We lost three guys. When I came home, I needed some time.” He looked up at her. “That was not about you.”

  Emotion expanded in her chest like a balloon. For months she’d thought she was over this, that she’d gotten past it, but now she was so furious she wanted to smack him.

  “You have no idea what it’s like to watch the news every night expecting your life to implode.” She stepped closer, forcing him to look at her. “Every helicopter crash, every roadside bomb. Every day I was walking around dreading that phone call that would tell me you’d been hurt or killed. I used to count down the days until your deployments ended because then I could breathe again like a normal person.”

  He looked at the floor. “I needed some time. I needed to get my head on straight.”

  “You ever think maybe I might have liked to be there for that? That maybe I cared about you and wanted to help you go through things? I wanted a chance to be your friend, Gage. Not just some plaything you turn to when you’re on leave and want to blow off steam.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just had to be alone.”

  “Hurt my feelings? Gage, I was in love with you! I was ready to spend my life with you, and you stabbed me through the heart!”

  He blinked down at her. The shock on his face made her sick to her stomach. God, he had no idea.

  “Kelsey.” He reached for her and she jerked away.

  “Forget it. It’s over.”

  “Kelsey, come on.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this. Ever again.” She glanced around the room, at the stained carpet, the ugly purple bedspread—anything but him.

  “Obviously, it’s not over, or you wouldn’t be so upset.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  Her phone buzzed from across the room and she moved to answer it.

  “Yeah, you’re not upset, you just won’t even look at me.”

  She glared at him now as she yanked her phone from her purse and answered it.

  “What?”

  “Whoa. Bad time to call?”

  She took a deep breath. “Sorry.” She turned her back to Gage and closed her eyes. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got that address,” Ben said. “You have a pen?”

  “Yes.” She took a notepad from her purse and jotted the address down. “Thanks.”

  “I don’t know if this is current, but it’s worth a try.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Kelsey—” He paused. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks for helping me.”

  “No problem. Just . . . I’ve got a weird vibe about this guy. Whatever you’ve got planned, be careful.”

  She hung up and turned around, and Gage was sitting on the bed, shoving his feet into sneakers.

  “When does your leave end?” she asked.

  “Tuesday. Why?”

  She walked over and stood in front of him. “Because I think you should get back to whatever it is you had planned. I can drive you to the airport in Salt Lake City tonight.”

  He tied his shoes, his movements jerky with anger. He stood up.

  “Forget it.”

  “Gage—”

  “Forget it, Kelsey.” He grabbed his wallet off the dresser and stuffed it into the pocket of his cargo shorts.

  “Don’t we have a pizza coming?”

  “Fuck the pizza. Where are we going?”

  Kelsey gazed up at him. He had that hard look on his face that reminded her of her uncle, and she knew there was no arguing with him when he got this way.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’ve got an address for Weber. I was thinking he’s most likely to be home at night.”

  He grabbed the rental car key. “Let’s go.”

  • • •

  Elizabeth trudged over a sand dune and surveyed the people jogging along the shore. It took her no time to spot him. His tall, muscular body stood out, even on a beach filled with exercise fiends. He wore athletic shorts and running shoes. A T-shirt hung from the waistband of his shorts.

  Elizabeth slipped off her shoes and turned them upside down. Sand cascaded out. She hooked her fingers in the heels and strode across the beach toward him. His pace didn’t change, but she could tell he’d spotted her because something in his face shifted.

  “Howdy,” he said, stopping in front of her.

  “Howdy yourself. Where have you been all day?”

  “Here and there.”

  He lifted his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow, and Elizabeth glanced away. She was much too levelheaded to get distracted by some glistening pecs, but Oh my Lord. The way the sun shimmered off him made him look like some kind of Greek statue.

  “I need to interview you,” she said. “In connection with the Blake Reid case.”

  He smiled slightly. “Sounds pretty important. Do I need to call my lawyer?”

  “That’s completely up to you.”

  His smile faded and he looked at the surf crashing against the sand. He checked his sports watch.

  “Tell you what, why don’t we keep this informal.” Derek started walking, but away from the lot where she’d seen his car parked.

  Elizabeth fell into step beside him. “I’m not joking around here. I need—”

  “I need to eat,” he cut in. “What about you? You hungry?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I could use a taco.”

  “Get it later, then. I need to talk to you.”

  “Talk while we eat.”

  She had to stretch to keep up with his long strides, and she could feel her blouse getting damp beneath her blazer. She knew she looked ridiculous out here in business clothes, but as of last night, she’d decided she’d put up with any amount of embarrassment if it meant delivering Lieutenant Brewer into custody. Gordon was counting on her, and this time she could tell it was for real.

  “How’d you find me?” Derek asked.

  “I talked to your neighbors.”

  She spotted a wooden hut on the side of the highway. It was surrounded by picnic tables and had a weathered blue sign out front that said ERNIE’S TACO SHACK. Surfboards were propped up against the side of the building, and a pair of bikini-clad girls stood at a window ordering.

  Elizabeth glanced at Derek, and he was smiling.

  “So you flashed your badge around, huh? You trying to tarnish my rep as an upstanding citizen?”

  “I bumped into your neighbor, Mr. Waugh,” she said. “He was more than happy to talk to me.”

  “Better watch out for Waugh. He’s a sneaky old bastard.” Derek stepped up to the window. “Three beef-and-cheese and a large Coke.” He looked at
her. “You?”

  “Nothing, thanks.”

  “Six beef-and-cheese, two Cokes.” He dug a bill from the mesh pocket of his shorts and handed it over.

  “I can’t eat three tacos.”

  “Sure you can.” He dropped his change in the tip jar. “You’ve got a healthy appetite.” He walked over to the picnic table and straddled the bench, and Elizabeth tried not to notice his muscular thighs. They were like tree trunks. She glanced at his running shoes and decided they had to be thirteens, at least.

  She looked out at the surf. It glimmered in the evening sunlight. The seagulls’ high-pitched cries reminded her how far she was from home. Such an idyllic setting should have relaxed her, but instead she felt edgy.

  “Rob, your order is now available,” droned a voice over the microphone.

  “Take a load off, Liz. You seem tense.”

  She shot him a look. He’d pulled on his T-shirt, at least. That was marginally better. Elizabeth took a seat on the opposite side of the table and dropped her shoes onto the bench.

  “I need to know the last time you spoke with Gage Brewer.”

  “Well, let’s see . . .” He squinted up at the sky. “That would have to be ’bout 1800.”

  “You talked to him today?”

  “Yep.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Now, that I can’t tell you.”

  He’d said almost those exact words yesterday, and she felt her temper bubbling up.

  “Cut the crap, Derek. This is a murder investigation. The FBI needs to know where Lieutenant Brewer is, and they need to know now.”

  “Derek, your order is ready. Derek.”

  He got up to retrieve two plastic baskets filled with foil-wrapped tacos.

  “I’m not playing around here,” she said when he returned. “Things have escalated.”

  He chomped into a taco and seemed to be listening intently. “Is there a warrant out for him?”

  “Yes.”

  He froze. But then he resumed eating as if she hadn’t said anything. She dropped her next bomb.

  “If you refuse to cooperate with the investigation, I can have you arrested and charged with obstruction of justice.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at this and then took another bite. She sat there, sweating, feeling like she was playing a game of chicken. There was simply no way he could be this nonchalant about something so important.