by Ladew, Lisa
She glanced out the window and took in the scene. Assistant Chief Foley’s eyes searched for her and found her. She saw the determination in his eyes and met it with her own.
“US marshals?” she said to him under her breath.
He shook his head and answered just as quietly. “They refused, but I will go to them again. Maybe now they will. Or maybe after the trial starts.”
She nodded, knowing how finicky they were in deciding which cases they took on. “We should move now,” she said, knowing the explosion changed everything.
“Do you want a partner?” Foley asked.
Aria considered for a moment, then shook her head. “No, that will take too long. We need to get out of here now.”
Foley nodded, his face grim. He knew it was the best choice at the moment.
Aria’s mind worked quickly as she considered her options. She leaned in close to Foley, ignoring the people around them who were chattering and watching people stream out of the building into the parking lot towards the smoking, twisted vehicle. “I’m heading down to get my car. Meet me by the second street exit in five minutes. It might be best if you can make the media think he was in the car.”
Foley nodded, his eyes guarded. He turned to Coleton and pulled him to the side. In the space that Coleton left, Aria briefly saw a fire truck pull into the parking lot, then she turned on her heel and hurried to the exit stairs. Luckily she had parked in the back parking lot and when she pushed open the door she saw no one. Everyone would be around the front, gawking at the explosion scene.
Aria hurried to her car, a small but powerful, silver Acura. It wasn’t a popular car. It didn’t blend in. She had to find something else to drive, and if the assistant chief was correct, it wasn’t safe to take any of the police department vehicles. She fished her keys out of her pocket and opened the car door quickly, sliding behind the wheel. Her mind was in overdrive, playing over every possible option that she had to keep Coleton Savoy safe, her sister forgotten, for now.
She maneuvered the car through the back lot and up to the exit where she had instructed Foley to meet her. He and Savoy were already there, arguing heatedly. Aria parked close and watched the two men, hoping to determine what the argument was about. Her eyes crept to Savoy’s face, trying to figure him out. Soft, she finally decided. Soft and spoiled. But that didn’t matter. Her only job was to keep him safe, which she would do whether he was soft and spoiled or not.
Foley stopped talking and stood back, gesturing towards Aria’s car. Coleton yanked the passenger door open angrily and slid into the seat. Aria shifted into first gear and sped away before Coleton even had his door closed. He fumbled for his seatbelt, then turned his furious gaze on her. Aria waited. When he exploded she would blast him to pieces. She didn’t want to be doing this anymore than he did, but he had no choice in the matter anymore. Someone destroying his car had removed everyone’s choice. He was now in protective police custody until the trial was over, whether he liked it or not. The only question that remained was if he would make it easy? Or very hard? Aria almost hoped for hard. It would distract her from everything else in her life that was so fucked up she could just cry sometimes. But she wasn’t crying now. Her muscles tensed and her awareness tingled outward in a smooth easy stream. She waited for that one labored word from spoiled Coleton Savoy that would give her permission to show him exactly who was in charge from now on.
But it never came. As soon as he looked at her his anger seemed to evaporate. He collapsed into his seat with a grunt and a sigh.
An awkward silence settled over the interior of the car, where the loudest noise was the scream of the transmission just before Aria jammed the car in the next gear. She managed to drive almost two miles before she realized she had no destination in mind. Her only goal had been to get him away from the police department before anyone else saw him, and to make sure they weren’t being followed. They weren’t.
But now, safe in her car, she had time to think about the fiasco that had just happened. Would anyone but a cop dare set an explosive device on a car in broad daylight in the police department parking lot? Probably not. Which meant things just got a whole lot more dangerous. When a cop tried to kill a person, he usually ended up dead eventually. Foley’s advice to her to not tell anyone, even him, where she was going or where she ended up just made a lot more sense. At least she knew she could trust him.
Aria’s mind spun over this new development. When she didn’t show up to work tomorrow it would be obvious to anyone who was looking that she was the one on Savoy babysitting duty. She had to get rid of her car, and quickly. She made a mental note to tell the assistant chief to put out the official word that she was on vacation. Maybe that would slow down whoever was after Savoy.
Aria snuck a glance at the criminal’s son in the seat next to her and caught him looking her way. He looked away quickly as soon as their eyes met. The accidental connection shook Aria slightly. She hadn’t expected him to be looking at her. She tried to gather her thoughts again, refusing to allow herself to be unnerved. Too much was at stake.
She drove the next few minutes in silence, watching him from the corner of her eye. He looked out of his window, his entire manner brooding. He wasn’t happy about being here. But he wasn’t whining or complaining, which was good.
“How much money do you have on you?” she asked him suddenly, the question flipping out of her mouth without a thought.
Coleton’s face swung back her way, looking confused. “Maybe a few hundred.”
Aria nodded. It was more than she had expected, but nowhere near what they needed. “We’ll have to make a stop.”
Coleton nodded and Aria took the next right-hand turn as a plan formed in her mind. Neither of them said anything for the next few minutes, until finally she pulled in to the parking lot of a stately, red-brick building. The sign in front read KCCU, which was her credit union. Aria pulled the car expertly into a tiny stall directly in front of the door and killed the engine, hurrying to open her door. She wanted to get in and out before anyone saw them.
“What are we doing here?” Coleton asked, lunging out of his side of the car and trying to keep up with her as she jogged towards the door of the credit union. She ignored the question for a moment while she took her badge off of her belt, tucking it into a pocket, then concealed her gun under her shirt.
“We need money,” she finally said brusquely, stepping inside the building into the cool air-conditioned foyer.
“What for?”
Aria stopped at the customer desk and grabbed a withdrawal slip and a pen. “We need to buy a car,” she said distractedly while she pondered the number boxes. How much would they need, and how much would the department pay her back?
“Is this the Police Department credit union?”
“No – mine.”
Coleton touched her on her arm and the contact was enough to make Aria stop her musing and look up at him.
“You are paying for this out of your own pocket?”
Aria shook her head. “I’ll be reimbursed,” she said and looked back to the withdrawal slip. It was a non-issue. They needed a new car. Police department vehicles were out. Buying was safer than renting. She didn’t have time to explain all of this to him. Aria bent over the slip and concentrated on writing legibly. Ordinarily, her handwriting was worse than a doctors. Most of her habits were excessively neat, but she had never been able to tame her messy handwriting for some reason.
Next to her, Coleton took a step backwards and made a noise of dissent. She ignored him, not sure what he would possibly be upset about. But when he stepped forward again and tore the pen out of her hand she looked up at him.
His eyes flashed and his lips twisted. “No way. I’m not going along with this,” he said and then he walked past her to the door, his stride heavy and masculine.
Aria watched him go, her mouth open. What in the world was his problem? She looked back down at her withdrawal slip and then looked up at the row of
tellers waiting for her. But she couldn’t leave him outside alone. She threw the almost-blank withdrawal slip in the garbage and ran outside.
She found Coleton on the sidewalk, head down like he was deep in thought. She ran up to him and lightly tapped the back of her hand on his shoulder, resisting the urge to shove him and trying to keep the sudden surge of anger out of her voice. “What are you doing? You don’t just run away from me!”
“You’re not paying out of your own pocket to protect me,” he said, turning his dark eyes on her, his jaw clenched and his face rigid.
Aria shook her head, not sure why that was such an issue for him. Did he have a problem with women? Wouldn’t that be just what she needed. Somehow, she hadn’t thought he was the type.
“I told you, I will be reimbursed,” she said. She shook her head. “I’m not sure why this is even an issue. I have money.”
“I’m sure you do, but I’m still not letting you do this.”
Aria took a step back, her eyes wide. She almost laughed at his words. “Not letting me?” She was glad to see the expression on his face change as he realized he had made a mistake, but she wasn’t done. “Excuse me, who exactly do you think is in charge here?”
Coleton shook his head and held up his hands. Aria realized suddenly that they were on the sidewalk in broad daylight. Anyone could drive by and see them. Westwood Harbor was a decent sized city, and the chances of word getting back to anyone who was looking for Coleton were slim, but it still wasn’t smart what they were doing. She grabbed Coleton by the hand and pulled him to her car, then motioned for him to get inside so they could continue their argument in relative privacy.
As Coleton climbed in, Aria walked around to the driver’s side, still fuming at his assumptions. He wasn’t letting her do anything. She was the one calling the shots. As soon as she entered the driver's seat though, all of her anger leaked away as Coleton faced her squarely and apologized.
“Look,” he said slowly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just … I know you’re in charge and I know I don’t have a choice about this, but I don’t want you coming to any hardship because of me. I don’t want to put you out. I know you didn’t even want to do this.”
Aria looked at him, confused, and he dropped his eyes to the gearshift.
He went on. “I heard you. Your boss told you that you had to drop all your cases and you weren’t too happy about it, then ten minutes later my car exploded and now here we are.”
Aria thought back quickly. Had she said anything awful? No. She had not said what she was thinking. So she couldn’t have offended him. Not that she cared if she offended him, right?
Aria sat back against her seat and sighed. What was wrong with her? Why was she always flying off the handle with no provocation these days? Some days she felt like such an outcast and she’d always been so angry with the world since Jason and Ava had taken off. She didn’t even know how to play nice with people anymore. Coleton had been trying to be nice, or stranger still, he had been sort of chivalrous. That was something she didn’t see very often anymore.
She looked at Coleton again and tried to smile. It felt strange on her face. “What do you suggest?” she asked.
A half-smile slid across Coleton’s face easily. “I’ll pay for it,” he said and Aria tore her eyes away, trying not to think about how handsome the smile made him.
Chapter 4
Coleton watched Aria out of the corner of his eye as she drove, his hands braced against the window and the center console to hold him in his seat. A thought crossed his mind. Aria drove the car like she stole it. Which is exactly what Ava had done to him. A bitter emptiness slid over him, marring his already sour mood and marking his soul. He narrowed his eyes and searched Aria’s features. Aria and Ava had to be related. That was the only explanation. He would ask her, just as soon as the time was right. Besides, he had seen her face when he called her Ava. She had been shocked. She knew who Ava was. She had to.
Aria pulled into the parking lot of his bank and stopped the car. He was the first one out this time, trusting that she would follow quickly. He pushed into the cool, quiet entrance of the bank, and retrieved his own withdrawal slip. Aria approached, her scent reaching his nose in an instant. Vanilla and something sweeter. Jasmine maybe. He gritted his teeth and tried to push thoughts of how she smelled out of his mind. Besides, she was a cop. Cops should smell like gunmetal and hot powder. Or justice. Not sweet, delectable things. Things he wanted to get his mouth on.
He turned to her, taking a moment to wrestle his mind into submission. “How much do we need?”
Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I’ll bet we can find a reliable car for five thousand cash.”
He bent to the withdrawal slip, his pen poised over it. “I’ll make it ten thousand.”
“Better make it thirteen thousand actually, there are a few other things we need to do,” she said and he thought he heard a teasing smile in her voice. Did she think that would upset him?
He wrote out the slip and headed to the teller. The woman didn’t even raise an eyebrow at his request. Thank goodness he hadn’t left his wallet in the other car - the one that was now nothing more than twisted wreckage. The teller handed him a stack of 100 hundred dollar bills, then counted out thirty more and slid them across the counter to him. Coleton took his money and they retreated outside, back to Aria’s car.
Once in the car, Aria drove them out to the highway and took the direction heading north of the city. Coleton found his thoughts drifting once more to Ava and to what she had done to him. He snuck another look at Aria and shook his head as the memory of Ava’s looks commingled with Aria’s right in front of him. He’d heard that everyone had a doppelganger, but he didn’t think a person and their doppelganger would be an exact match, would they? That would be crazy. Like walking around with a twin and you didn’t even know it. Besides, Ava and Aria didn't look exactly the same. Ava had been much skinnier – way too skinny - and she had always had a haunted, anxious look in her eyes. Aria was more muscular and although not laid-back, certainly not anxious. She seemed strong and unflappable. Almost as if she had a chip on her shoulder or as if she was always waiting for something worse to happen to her.
A few lines of Rumi slid through his mind
I want to know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot
Coleton smiled at the image, then pulled back in surprise. Amazement actually. His mind had not been peppered with poetry in ten months. In fact he hadn’t had one line occur to him the entire time he’d been in New York.
Was this reoccurrence because he was back? Could Westwood Harbor be the cause of it? His mind cast back trying to find the rest of the lines to the poem.
Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.
I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”
Coleton sucked in a rapid breath. That poem was never about a city. That poem was about a woman. But the only woman he’d seen in the last several weeks was Sergeant Aria Gale.
The rear end of the car bumping up over a curb as Aria took a hard right turn brought his consciousness back into the present moment. He stole a glance at Aria then looked forward again, not wanting her to catch him looking.
He glanced around and saw a large red and white banner passing over their head. Used car sale, it screamed. Aria nosed the car around the corner and parked directly in front of the building. She twisted the keys in the ignition and had her door open and one leg on the ground before his mind completely comprehended where they were.
She slammed her door and strode purposefully towards the small building where four men were watching her every move through a large picture window. Coleton sat in the car and his eyes followed her up the steps. If she hadn’t been a cop, she certainly coul
d’ve played one on TV. She wore the same way-too-sexy jeans and no-nonsense cowboy boots that looked like they could kick anyone senseless who got in her way. He watched her hair bounce as she moved and felt dismayed when his groin tightened at the sight.
He was into her. Or at least his body was. Goddammit. Exactly what he didn’t need right now!
Besides, who wouldn’t be in to her? She looked like she was a fucking tiger in bed. Like she’d take everything you had to give and then give it back to you double.
Coleton tore his eyes away from her, and they landed on the men watching her from behind the window. His gaze was drawn to a man his age in an ugly blue suit. A man he recognized. It was Jax from high school. Great. This day was turning out to be better and better. He silently willed Aria to turn around and look at him, but she didn’t. She pulled open the door and strode into the small room like she owned it.
Coleton looked around quickly for something, anything to cover his face. He found a baseball cap in the back seat with WHPD embroidered on it in bright orange letters. It would do. He jammed it on his head before he turned back around to look forward again.
He could see Aria clearly through the window. All four of the men were in front of her, each looking more pathetic than the last. Coleton grimaced at how foolish they looked with their tongues practically hanging out of their mouths. She was hot. And he needed to keep his distance. He didn’t need her turning him into a fool with just a glance or the cock of one sculpted hip. People were trying to kill him. Dangerous people.
Or to be more exact, one dangerous person. His father. One of the most dangerous men in the state. Maybe the country. The cops didn’t know half of what they thought they knew. If even a portion of the stories Coleton had heard in the last several years were true, his father had been responsible for having more people killed than the worst serial killer ever recorded. But they were just stories. Things his mother and aunts and sisters had recounted when they weren’t paying attention to what they were saying. It’s not like he had any names or dates to go along with the stories. Nothing concrete that could knock the old man into the arms of the law.