Sugar and Sin Bundle

by Stacey Joy Netzel

He lifted his head and arched a brow. “In your uniform?”

  She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. The guys she’d been with before had hated her uniform, hated any reminder that she was a cop. And yet this man, who had every reason to feel the same way, was turned on by it. “Whatever tickles your pickle.”

  Taking her face between his hands, he stroked her cheeks. “Oh, you tickle my pickle all right. I want to undress you one item of clothing at a time, lay you on my bed, spread your legs wide and—”

  “Bang your hammer?” she joked even as moisture pooled between her thighs, making her ache for him.

  Rémi barked out a laugh. “You’re a comedian as well as a cop, eh? Let’s see how much you laugh when I show you my famous technique.”

  “Tonight?” She was shocked by how breathless she sounded.

  He kissed her on the nose, grinning. “If you’re lucky.” He backed up and sat in one of the chairs. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Her chest tightening, Alyssa slipped off the table into the seat beside him. “You look serious.”

  Taking her hand, he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. The light caress made her stomach flutter, and she was glad to be sitting down. He searched her face. “Are you being moved to a different assignment?”

  Her fingers clutched around his in surprise. “Why would you think that?”

  “Earlier at the diner, when Tommy said the community wouldn’t accept the SQ being in charge, you backed down pretty quickly.”

  Relaxing her hold on his hand, she tried to smile. When he ran a finger along her chin, she knew she’d failed. She’d intended to share her plan with him, but she’d been hoping for later rather than sooner. Even though he’d told Martha Alyssa would make a good chief of police, he was still hoping for the job. “Martha said some things that made me think. I hadn’t really considered the small town aspects and the fact that pretty much everyone in Blackriver knows everyone else.”

  He dropped her hand and sat back in his chair, gaze averted, jaw like wood. “So you think I can be swayed or even… corrupted, too?”

  Her breath caught, making her gasp. “No! That’s not what I meant.” From what she’d seen of him so far, Rémi was a steadfast, by-the-book person. He studied a situation and evaluated it carefully before acting. Very much the opposite of her. She took his hand back and tugged until he looked at her. “But given Blackriver’s history, I’m pretty sure it’s a commonly held perception, true or not.”

  “And you’re thinking to use that to your advantage?” he asked, all humor stripped from his tone.

  The way he was looking at her, as though seeing a different side of her, an uglier side, made her feel dirty. Crap. “No one can deny that an independent police force would be more objective and less susceptible to pressures from within the community.” It had sounded so reasonable in her head. Now it just reeked of manipulation.

  “And if you can stop the influx of drugs, it will prove, in your opinion, that an impartial SQ squad is the way to go.” Frown lines ran across his strong forehead as he folded his arms. “Very crafty, Sergeant Morgan.”

  Watching him, the muscles at the nape of her neck tensed. This is how Rémi must have looked when he’d been on the force. Other than the frown, his face was a blank slate—cold and hard. A remote observer. A stranger. She wanted that look gone.

  The ringing of his cell phone echoed in the silence.

  “I’m on call tonight,” he told her, pulling out a small flip phone, different from the one he usually carried. “Blackriver First Responders. This is Rémi. How can I help you?” A frown deepened between his brows as he listened. “Martha, calm down. When did she leave the diner?” After a short pause, he asked, “Did she tell anyone where she was going or who she was meeting?” Another pause. “I’ll be there in five minutes. We’ll find her.” He hung up.

  Alyssa slid forward on her chair and touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ellie didn’t come home from work, and she’s not answering her cell. Martha doesn’t know where she is.”

  “Things were pretty tense between Ellie and Martha at the diner. Maybe Ellie went to see Corey and didn’t tell Martha just to piss her off. You know, the usual teenager stuff.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Has she tried calling Corey?”

  “He’s not answering either. What time is it?”

  She checked her watch. “Nine.”

  Digging into his back pocket, he got out his regular phone. “Corey was supposed to report in at eight.” His fingers flew across the display. “Nothing. I’m sending him a text and the brat better answer.”

  “They’re probably together.”

  “Still, I’m going to go drive around the rez. See if I can find Ellie and bring her home.” Pocketing both phones, he moved into the hall and grabbed his keys off the small entry table.

  Alyssa followed him. “I’m coming with you.”

  He stopped mid-step and spun around. “Why?”

  “If something happened to Ellie, I want to help.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “Look, the cruiser’s equipped with alley lights. All you’ve got is a flashlight.”

  He opened the door for her and ushered her out. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting back to work?”

  Sighing, she turned and stopped him. “Let me worry about that, okay?”

  He stared at her for a long moment. Just when she was certain he’d turn down her help, he inclined his head. “I could use another set of eyes.”

  They climbed into the cruiser and drove the short distance onto the reserve. “Where should we start?” she asked as they entered the Iroquois territory.

  “I’m thinking the skatepark, behind the high school. But take the first right so we can drive along the river. Kids like to make camp fires there and hang out on hot nights like this.”

  Alyssa followed his directions and turned the alley lights on, illuminating fifty or so meters on either side of the road. A half mile down, they spotted a group of kids partying around a fire.

  “Pull over,” Rémi said. He hopped out of the car and jogged over to the group, who’d stopped to watch his approach. A couple minutes later, he got back in the cruiser and shook his head. “No one’s seen them, but Corey told one of the boys he was meeting Ellie tonight.”

  “That’s good.” Rémi shot her a look. She swallowed and smiled. Yeah, two teenagers out on a warm night, alone. Nothing to worry about. Right. She put the car in gear and they kept moving down the road. “At least she’s not alone.”

  Rémi turned away from her to stare out his window as they entered the school parking lot. “Keep left and take the dirt road. It goes around back to the skatepark.”

  The cruiser jostled over the bumps and ruts in the road. Dust rose from the dry ground and insects shimmered in the headlights. When the half pipes came into view, Alyssa’s heart sank. The park appeared dark and deserted.

  Heat lightning flashed in the sky and a snake of foreboding slithered up her spine. She stopped the cruiser close to the park, illuminating the area as best she could with the vehicle’s headlights. Opening the glove compartment, she took out her spare flashlight and handed it to Rémi.

  He nodded his thanks and opened the door. Then he paused and turned to her, his chiseled features even starker in the dim overhead light. “You’d better be prepared to stop me from strangling that little shit.”

  Taking his free hand in hers, she squeezed it. Their gazes locked and after a long moment, they climbed out of the vehicle. She swept her flashlight across the surrounding fields as they approached the park. Rémi walked up to the edge of the five-foot bowl and lit it up. Nothing.

  She pointed her flashlight to the far side of the park where she could see the back of a large clamshell. The curved front would make a nice, cozy place for a couple to hunker down. Lightly, she touched Rémi’s arm and signaled for him to follow. Immediately understanding her intent, he
crept alongside her. They each rounded one side of the clamshell and simultaneously shone their flashlights in the clamshell’s basket.

  At the sight before them, Rémi swore and Alyssa’s heart lodged in her throat. Dear God.

  CHAPTER 15

  Rémi raced forward, running the light over Ellie’s face and unmoving body. Automatically, Alyssa took in the scene. Upended beer cans and a smashed bag of chips lay scattered on the ground. Ellie lay on a rumpled old blue blanket; strewn beside her were a crushed pack of cigarettes and some rolling papers.

  Along with a half-smoked joint.

  Alyssa spun in a circle, searching for any sign of movement. If Corey had been here, he was long gone.

  Dropping to his knees beside Ellie, Rémi placed two fingers on her neck and leaned his ear against her chest, listening. “She’s not breathing, and I can’t find a pulse. I’m going to start CPR.” He positioned his flashlight to light up the area. Alyssa knelt beside him and tilted Ellie’s head and lifted her chin to make sure her airways were clear before pinching her nose and making a seal with her mouth. Praying the girl would be all right, she blew air into Ellie’s lungs and watched as her chest expanded. When her chest fell, Alyssa repeated the rescue breath.

  When Ellie lungs didn’t fill on their own, Rémi placed the heel of his hand in the middle of Ellie’s chest, interlaced it with the fingers of his other hand and began compressions.

  Alyssa raced back to the cruiser to retrieve the AED from the trunk. If they weren’t too late, the defibrillator could still save Ellie’s life. As she ran, she pressed the button on the microphone at her shoulder. “Dispatch, this is Sergeant Alyssa Morgan. I have an unresponsive sixteen-year-old female. Send an ambulance to the skatepark behind Blackriver High School.”

  “Copy Sergeant. A rescue unit is on the way.”

  She hurried back with the AED and knelt beside Rémi. When he paused in the compressions, Alyssa pressed her ear against Ellie’s chest. Rising, she shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Rémi grabbed the AED. Alyssa tore the girl’s shirt open and pushed her bra out of the way. He slapped down the two compression pads, one high on the right side of her chest and the other low on the left.

  Breaking out in a cold sweat, she waited while the AED analyzed the electrical activity in Ellie’s heart. The device would only be useful if she was experiencing tachycardia or ventricular fibrillation.

  “She’s asystolic,” Rémi said. “Fuck.”

  Flatlined. The worst possible situation. Alyssa raised her gaze to Rémi. How many times had he been called into an emergency only to find out it was someone he knew? As a First Responder in a small community, it had to happen often. “I’m sorry, Rémi.”

  “No! If I can stimulate her heart into VF, then the AED will work.” He resumed manual chest compressions. They ran through five cycles of thirty compressions and two rescue breaths. Rémi checked Ellie’s pulse, checked her lungs. The AED continued to report her asystolic condition. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” he shouted, voice cracking, as he continued with the chest compressions.

  This had to be devastating for him; he’d known Ellie all her life. Alyssa wanted to reach out to him, to tell him everything would be okay. But it would be a lie. The girl was gone.

  Teeth gritted, Rémi continued the CPR. “Come on, Ellie. Don’t do this to me. Stay with me.”

  Alyssa brushed loose strands of hair off Ellie’s forehead. Only a few hours ago, she’d been so vibrant, so alive. With a ragged sigh, Alyssa forced herself back into cop mode. Forced aside her personal feelings. There’d be time enough for emotion later. When she was alone. In the shower. Where there were no witnesses.

  She clicked on her shoulder radio. “Dispatch, this is Sergeant Morgan. What’s the ETA on the rescue unit?”

  “You should see lights any second now.”

  She bent forward and breathed air into Ellie’s lungs. When she lifted her head, the girl’s chest remained unmoving. But sirens squealed in the distance. Minutes later, paramedics raced up to them with a gurney and a more sophisticated defibrillator. “What’s the situation?” one asked, pointing to the device on the ground beside Rémi.

  “Cardiopulmonary arrest. She’s asystolic.” Rémi moved back as the man took his place and continued the compressions. The other paramedic set a breathing bag over Ellie’s mouth.

  “How long has she been down?” he asked.

  Alyssa checked her watch. “We found her like this, seven minutes ago.”

  “Age?”

  “Sixteen.” Rémi answered, his voice flat, broken.

  “Is she on anything? Alcohol? Drugs?”

  Alyssa retrieved her flashlight from where she’d dropped it on the ground and directed the beam onto the joint. “She might have smoked that. Looks like marijuana, but it could be hash.”

  Rémi turned to the paramedic working the ventilator. “Isn’t there anything you can give her?”

  The man shook his head. “No circulation, no medication.”

  “She’s only sixteen, man!”

  “Which is why we’re still working on her.”

  The paramedics hoisted Ellie onto the gurney. After securing the belts around the girl’s frame, one of the paramedics turned to Alyssa, his expression tight. “I can’t call time of death, the doc will have to do that. But if I were you, I’d call in your evidence team.”

  Alyssa stepped out of the way and went to Rémi’s side as the paramedics loaded Ellie’s body into the ambulance. “I’ll go with Ellie,” he said. He slid an arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head. “Stay here and make sure your guys do this right. I’m want to know what happened to her. And if you find Corey, call me. I’m sure he’s in this neck-deep.”

  His movements were casual, calm even, as he climbed into the back of the ambulance. But inside he had to be feeling the same as her. They’d failed. And now a girl was dead.

  Chaz locked the back door, turned off the lights, and headed for the stairs. The boys were sleeping and Sarah had gone up earlier to have a bath and get ready for bed. By now she’d be ready—all soft, sweet scented, and waiting for him. His pace quickened.

  A flash of white streaking across his backyard caught his attention. What the fuck? Changing direction, he stepped through the kitchen to investigate. When he pushed open the door, a shape charged past him and into the house. The scent of marijuana lingered in the air. Corey.

  Rage electrified his muscles. “Get back here, you little shit!” he hissed, as he chased after the kid. Grabbing him by the back of his shirt, Chaz hauled Corey into the den. The last thing he wanted was for Sarah or the kids to hear a commotion and come downstairs. He shut the door, then turned and folded his arms across his chest.

  Face sweaty, hair unbraided, Corey turned to him with wild eyes. “Oh God, Chaz. I fucked up. I really fucked up this time.” The kid stood covered in dust and dirt, his shirt torn, his face ashen. Whatever had happened wasn’t good.

  He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and directed him to sit. “Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”

  After flopping into the chair, Corey looked up, his eyes glazed and bloodshot. “I killed her.”

  Chaz’s brows rose. He hadn’t expected that. He sat across from the kid and kept his voice even, calm. “Killed who, son?”

  Tears welled up in Corey’s eyes and he dropped his head into his hands. “Ellie. I killed Ellie. What the fuck am I going to do?”

  He tipped the kid’s face up with a finger under his chin. “Tell me what happened. Exactly. Don’t leave anything out.”

  Corey stared at him for a moment, then nodded. He cleared his throat. “After Ellie got off work, we went to the skatepark. I brought some beers and we just hung out. I still had some of the marijuana Pete gave me so I rolled a joint. Ellie asked if she could have a toke. She’d never touched the stuff before, but things have been rough with her mom lately.”

  The boy slumped forward, his gaze glued to the wall as though seeing it all play
out before him. “She was fine at first. Buzzing. You know? Laughing. Then she grabbed her throat and started making these choking sounds. I thought she was teasing, but then her lips turned blue and her eyes rolled back in her head.” His voice cracked and he broke off. His lids snapped shut. “It was horrible, man. She was shaking all over. I tried breathing into her mouth, but nothing worked.”

  “You sure she’s dead?”

  Corey started crying. “Of course I’m fucking sure. You think I’d leave her if she wasn’t?”

  “Have you told anyone else?”

  He shook his head. “I ran straight here.”

  The kid wasn’t lying, but he had left out some important details. “Ellie didn’t die from a few tokes on a marijuana joint, did she?”

  Before the kid could squirm out of admitting the truth, Chaz narrowed his eyes. Voice low, he ground out, “And don’t you fucking lie to me.”

  Corey scrubbed his cheeks and blew out a ragged breath. “Fine. I took a packet of SexTacy from you and mixed it in with the pot when I rolled the joint. I thought it would be fun.”

  Too bad the little fucker hadn’t killed himself too. Would have saved him the trouble. “So let me get this straight. You steal from me, then use my marijuana and my bath salts to get your girlfriend—a fucking councillor’s daughter—high. Did you think if she was stoned she’d have sex with you? How pathetic.”

  Corey held his hands up. “No man. It wasn’t like that at all. I never planned for Ellie to try it. You gotta believe me.” His bottom lip quivered and his voice softened. “Hurting her is the last thing in the world I ever wanted.”

  “Whatever you did want, your girlfriend’s dead now.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not my fault.”

  “Yeah? That’s not what those white cops are going to think. You gave her the drugs. You killed her.”

  A shrewd light shone in the kid’s gaze. “Doesn’t that make you an accessory? As you said, they were your drugs.”

  “You have no proof. You got the pot from Pete and my wife works standing up and her feet hurt. I bought her some bath salts because I’m that good of a husband. On the other hand, I’m sure the SQ would be happy to hear what I know about the pig incident. You could get five years for uttering threats, maybe more if it gets classified as violent.”