“Something to look forward to,” he agreed, and they kissed for a while, slow and easy and friendly. Joe was the first to pull back. “We should get up. There’s stuff going on out there.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m sure they’ve all solved it by now. Everything’s good.” She let him roll her to the side, but when he swung his legs over to the edge of the bed and stood up, she stayed where she was.
He looked back and smiled at her. “You can stay here, if you want.” His grin got a little wicked. “I like the idea of you here in my bed, waiting for me…” Then his face closed down a little. He felt presumptuous, Megan realized, assuming that there would be any more to this than what they’d already had. Never mind that she’d been talking about their chests matching up in thirty damn years.
“I like the idea too,” she said. “A lot. But you’re right.” She scooted down to the bottom of the bed and started searching for her underwear. “Do you even have a phone up here?”
“Not yet. It’s going to cost a lot to get a landline put in. But there’s no cell service.”
She’d known her cell didn’t work, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about the lack of a landline. “So if somebody wants to get hold of you…”
“They come by. Or catch me when I’m in town. Or leave a message on my cell, and I pick it up when I’m somewhere with service.”
“And if you want to order late-night Chinese food?”
“It’s not like they’d deliver up here anyway.” He was still naked, and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get dressed. “I’m going to shower. You can join me, if you want.”
“I’ve got to go back to the motel anyway, to get changed.” As good as showering together sounded, especially when she remembered the huge, glassed-in shower stall she’d seen the night before, Joe was right. They had work to do, and spending time with Joe in the shower was not going to help with that. Also… “Where the hell is my bra?”
He looked around at the rumpled bedding, and frowned as if trying to replay the scene. She watched as his eyes tracked away from the bed, over toward the dark wood dresser against the wall. There was a scrap of black fabric on top of it. He grinned sheepishly at her. “I think I got a little enthusiastic.”
“Well, I can’t quite remember how the hell it came off at all, so you weren’t the only one.” She crossed the floor. Somehow, she’d been fine totally naked, but she was feeling a bit self-conscious now that her pants were on. She knew he was watching her, and she didn’t turn back around until her bra was safely hooked.
“You okay?” His voice let her know he’d noticed her sudden shyness. It felt as if he was inviting her to talk, but not insisting on it. It wasn’t his right to hear, but it was his privilege to listen. She tried to memorize the tone so she could use it for her own questions.
“I’m good.” She pulled her top on and looked around the room. “Socks are downstairs…” Okay. It was time to go. She didn’t want to, but she had to. She had responsibilities. She wasn’t a little girl, able to just… Well, okay, a little girl really shouldn’t be climbing back into bed with her boyfriend either. Little girl wasn’t a good choice of words. Then Megan thought about boyfriend. It had come to her mind unbidden, but it wasn’t the word she should be using. Not yet.
“Seriously, Megan—are you okay?”
She realized that she’d been staring at Joe’s feet for far too long. They were nice enough feet, seemed to hold him up fairly well, but there was no need for this level of attention. “Sorry. Just—letting my brain catch up, or something.”
“Make sure you don’t do that when you’re driving—there are some tight turns on the way down.” He sounded amused but also concerned, and it was irresistible. She took two big steps before leaping for him. He caught her easily, didn’t even step back, and his hands found their familiar spot under her ass as she wrapped her legs around him and grabbed his hair, pulling his mouth to hers in a deep, hard kiss.
When she finally pulled away, he kept his eyes on hers as he licked his lips thoughtfully, as if savoring the taste of her. “Okay,” he said. He released some of her weight and she reluctantly let her feet fall to the floor, but she kept her hands tight in his hair. It allowed her to pull his mouth down to hers, and the kiss this time was tender.
“Okay,” she repeated finally. “I should go.”
He didn’t agree with her, but he didn’t argue either, and she forced herself away from him. She headed down the stairs, found her shoes and looked up to see him standing at the railing of the loft, watching her. “So I’ll catch up with Don. Are you going to be in town?” she asked. “I mean—how will I let you know if I find something? Or if Don does?”
“I can come in,” he said. “Or call my cell—I’m going to be out and about, so I’ll get a message.” He paused, then said, “Or you can come back here tonight, if you want. We can debrief, have some dinner.”
“And I could sleep on the couch again,” she pouted.
He grinned. “If you’re really good…if you earn it…maybe there’s room in the bed.”
She kicked her feet into her shoes and smiled up at him. “Well, just so you know, I’m very goal-oriented. I respond well to challenges.” She raised her eyebrows. “That bed is mine, Joe. I can practically taste it.”
He glanced behind him, then back down at her. “It can’t taste all that good, really.”
“Maybe it’s something else I’m tasting, then.” She let herself take one more look at him, then turned resolutely and headed for the door.
* * *
Things were still chaotic at the sheriff’s office, and Megan was glad of it. Anna had been shot—people should be all stirred up. She just wasn’t sure that they were using their energy for anything constructive.
Carson’s office door was open, and Megan schooled her features before poking her head inside. She didn’t officially know anything, and Don and Joe seemed to want to keep the sheriff out of the loop, so she needed to play it cool. And one glance at him swept away most of the hostility that she’d been building. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept or changed his clothes or maybe even eaten. She thought of her own night and tried not to feel guilty about it.
“Hey, Meggie,” he said with a tired smile. “You doing okay? Do you need any help with that project for Anna?”
It took her a moment to remember what he was talking about. She really wasn’t a very good liar. “Oh, no. It’s fine. Like I said, it’s sort of a long-term thing. But—how’s she doing? Have you heard an update?”
“They say she’s stable.” Megan exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, and Carson continued. “She got hit twice, but both bullets went right through, and didn’t damage anything too vital. Once the doctors controlled the bleeding, they were reasonably confident she’d be okay. She’ll end up with some interesting scars, but that should be about it.”
Scars. The word caught Megan’s attention. She thought of the marks on Joe’s back. Had he been reluctant to discuss them? Was that why he’d turned over? And could they be bullet marks?
She forced a smile on to her face. “That’s really good news. Is there anything that needs to be done? For her family, or anything?”
“It’s all being taken care of. Folks up here are good at looking after their own.”
“Okay. I’ll just go back to…my thing, then. Let me know if there’s anything you need me to do.”
“I will, sweetie.”
She smiled at the endearment. It didn’t seem so important that she appear remote and businesslike, not anymore.
When she got to the conference room, Don was waiting for her. As soon as she was inside, he shut the door.
“I came by the motel this morning. You weren’t there.” It sounded like an accusation, and she raised a cool eyebrow.
“I’m here now
. What do you need?”
It took him a moment to collect his thoughts; apparently he’d been expecting a longer discussion regarding her morning whereabouts. Finally, he said, “They questioned and released the Codys they rounded up yesterday. Well, there’s a couple in the holding cells—one resisted arrest, and the other was carrying pot when they got him. But none of them talked. The DEA wanted to keep them longer, but they lawyered up fast, and the lawyer was the aggressive type. Talking about lawsuits for harassment, that sort of thing. It could happen too, because there isn’t a shred of evidence connecting them to this. Not yet. It didn’t make any kind of sense to bring them in.”
“Were there any more clues from the crime scene?” Megan felt like she was pulling words straight out of a TV show, but Don didn’t seem to notice.
“The crime lab guys are over there now. They probably won’t have anything for a while, though.”
Megan sank down into her usual chair at the end of the table. “So where do we go from here?”
“Has Joe heard anything from his people?” Don looked at her as if he was interested in her answer for more than just the content of it.
She refused to play his game. “Not that I’ve heard. Have you got his cell number? You could give him a call.” He didn’t respond, and she grew a little impatient. “Look, I’m not an investigator. I don’t know what we should be doing here. Last night it made sense. You’d look into the shooting and figure out what you could from your end. I’d keep working through the files. It would help if I had some sort of direction, though. Do you think the DEA is a reasonable place to start? Should I be looking for the times they interfered with your investigations? If we assume they’re dirty, then we should be able to figure out who they’re in bed with by looking at the people they didn’t want you to bust, right?”
He nodded slowly, almost reluctantly, and Megan got a tight feeling in her stomach. Anna had been shot. It seemed likely that a police officer had betrayed her. And now her partner was acting as if he didn’t want to get to the bottom of things? “Or maybe you’d rather we didn’t look into it.” Anna trusted her partner, but maybe Anna was wrong. “You were there with Anna, Don. But she was the only one who got shot. Was that because you got lucky, or because that’s how it was planned? Did your friends shoot the person who was getting suspicious, and leave you alone?”
Even with the cops just outside, Megan was certain Don was going to hit her. And as she watched the emotions play across his face, she wasn’t sure she didn’t deserve it.
“Fuck you,” he said, and then he took half a step toward her before collapsing into a chair. He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. When he finally spoke, Megan had to lean forward to hear the words. “I was pinned down,” he said. “They were going to kill me. Anna was further back. She had good cover, and she could have gotten the hell out of there. But she wouldn’t leave me. She saved my life, and she got shot.” He raised his face to look at Megan, and she believed him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For being suspicious. I just—you seemed to be dragging your feet on this.”
He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m a cop. Cops don’t rat out other cops.”
“Well, cops don’t give information to drug dealers that gets other cops shot either. So whoever we’re dealing with here isn’t playing by your code. Right?”
He waited for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Yeah. Right.” There was another pause, and then he said, more emphatically, “Right.” He stood up. “Okay. I’m on administrative leave—standard procedure for an officer involved in a shooting, even if it was totally clean. I can’t go out of the office. But I’ll do what I can. Full-on.”
Megan nodded. “Okay.” She hesitated a second. She wasn’t sure she wanted to involve Don in her next issue, but she couldn’t think of anyone else to turn to. “Hey, if you have time, can you look into something for me?”
Chapter Nineteen
That night, Megan retraced her route up the steep, winding road to Joe’s house. Her body was urging her forward, but her mind was glad for a little time to figure out what she wanted to say, and how she wanted to say it.
She parked and found her way up the path. This time the outside light was already on, waiting for her arrival. It was a little thing, but it made her feel welcome. She knocked, and then eased the door open. “Hello?”
“Hi.” Joe was walking toward her from the kitchen, his relaxed T-shirt stretching over easily-rolling muscles, his faded jeans slung low on his hips. He was barefoot. Megan’s own feet twitched inside her shoes, demanding to be set free. But it seemed overly familiar to start stripping down quite yet, so she tried to ignore them.
Maybe Joe was having his own concerns about the precise state of their relationship, because he stopped walking while he was still a couple of feet away from her. It was a good distance for a casual conversation, but not exactly what Megan had been hoping for. She thought of her running-jump from that morning, and was tempted to try it again, but she couldn’t bring herself to risk it.
“You look tired,” Joe said. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah, please.” She saw him waiting for more information. “Whatever you’re having.”
She followed him over to the kitchen and watched as he pulled out two glasses and the remains of the Talisker.
“I picked up another bottle this afternoon,” he reassured her with a smile.
He poured the drinks, and she took hers over to the wall of windows. It was another clear night, and the moon and stars shone as brightly as they had before. But the light seemed cold now, at least until Megan felt Joe ease in behind her, just close enough for her to feel him. She let herself lean into his solid warmth, and when she tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder, he kissed her forehead. Everything was good again.
They stayed like that until Megan’s neck got sore, and then for a while after, because she really didn’t want to move. Finally, she straightened up and pulled herself away a little. She dropped her free hand to find his and led him over to the couch. Joe was strong and confident most of the time, and lord knew she appreciated his firm understanding of what her body wanted, but she was beginning to think that she was going to have to be the one to take the lead with any sort of emotional intimacy. Maybe he’d have done better if she hadn’t pushed him away initially, or maybe this was just one of his few weaknesses. It was a bit unfortunate, since she didn’t exactly consider it a strength of her own, but she was pretty sure they’d be able to fumble through it together.
He settled onto the couch, leaning against the arm, one leg stretched along the back of the sofa and one hanging over the edge in front, and she snuggled into the V between them, her back tight against his chest. Perfect. Oh, wait, not quite. She’d left her drink on the coffee table. Eyeing it, she made a low, frustrated noise, and Joe lifted his own glass to her mouth. She took a cautious sip and reevaluated her situation. Now she didn’t even have to go to the trouble of holding a drink. “Perfect.” Her happy sigh earned her a kiss on the temple.
“Anything bad happen out there?” Joe asked. “Or just a long day?”
“Mostly just long,” she decided, running her fingers along his thigh. “It was hard to talk to people, you know? Carson, for sure, but everybody, because maybe one of them was responsible for Anna.” She worked her chin around for another sip, and he obliged by moving the glass into place. She had something else to talk to him about, but she wasn’t quite ready to get started on that. She was enjoying the peace too much. “How about you? With your family?”
She felt his shrug. “They’re annoying. But I talked to them. Extensively. There’s a couple kids taking meth, and that’s enough to have everyone else totally against it.” He lifted the glass up for his own sip. “They’re just running pot, just like they alway
s have. They offered to help out any way they can with Anna.”
“Did they say anything about Carson?”
“Most of them don’t know about that. But I talked to…” He trailed off, then restarted. “To the guy who’s pretty much in charge these days.” Megan realized that Joe had decided against giving her the name. It stung, but she wasn’t sure she could blame him. “He said Carson’s been all over them about the shooting, trying to figure out who did it, how they found out, everything. He says Carson’s not a good enough actor for it to be anything but genuine. They don’t think he was involved.”
“Do they have any idea who was?”
“They say they’ve been having trouble with some neo-Nazi survivalist assholes from up the valley. Some of them lifted some pot off one of the younger guys. According to them, that’s where the meth’s coming from.”
“Do neo-Nazis like meth?”
“Neo-Nazis like money. And they aren’t too worried about destruction, so maybe meth’s right up their alley. I don’t know. Could be somebody else entirely, but that’s what they think.”
Megan nodded, and they both had another sip of scotch. Finally, Megan forced herself to say, “Hey, Joe…”
“Yeah?” His voice was already wary. Megan would have really liked to stay snuggled up to him, but it didn’t seem fair. She didn’t want him to feel trapped.
“I…I think I did something you won’t like.” She sat up and pivoted around so she was facing him, mirroring his position on the couch.
He just looked at her, then took another sip of his drink. She reached over to the coffee table and grabbed her own glass.
“Okay, this is a weird situation. I mean, I’ve been reading files about your family for a while now. So I know about your parents. I didn’t want to say anything this morning, because it felt weird that I already knew that, but it also feels weird to be walking around pretending that I don’t.”
Shadow Valley Page 13