“Shit, Lissie. I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t be nice. It’s much easier if I can be mad at you.” A chuckle escapes me. “I thought you lied to me,” she mumbles.
“I didn’t, but I get why you’d think that, seeing that picture. I didn’t even know that existed. How did you find it?”
“The markups you made on my journal pages. Vegas and the date. The rest was all Google.”
I kiss the top of her head and get up. In the kitchen, I grab a dishtowel and wet part of it under the cold tap before I go to sit back down beside her. I gently pull her hands away and wipe her face before lobbing the towel in the direction of the kitchen sink.
“You’re being nice,” she grumbles, as I tuck her back against me.
We sit quietly in the dimly lit room, but my mind is going a mile an minute. Fuck, I’d love to blame Chains, but he was killed last year. He couldn’t have had anything to do with the reason Dani called her friend in a panic, or with her subsequent death. But someone did, and buried her at the new subdivision.
“Yuma?”
I thought she was dozing off, but Lissie’s soft voice tells me otherwise.
“Mmm.”
“You looked…cozy with Ginger Franklin in that picture.”
Yeah, I’d been afraid that would come up at some point, I just didn’t think it would be now. I may have shared some of my history with her, but only in the most general of terms. I didn’t want to give out too many details. Didn’t think it would serve any purpose but to make things uncomfortable.
They just got uncomfortable.
I tighten my hold on her before I speak.
“About that. Told you I didn’t mind sharing if it meant no one getting tempted to lay claim to me.” I can feel her stiffen in my arms.
“Ginger?”
“Red and Ginger like to play, and I didn’t mind being a third. Served their purposes and it served mine at the time. That stopped last year.”
It’s quiet for a bit and then she asks, “Last year?”
“Yeah.”
“That picture is from eight years ago.”
“I know, Babe.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Meant nothing, Lissie,” I reassure her.
“That’s what you say, but I’m not sure. Ginger’s reaction to me at your clubhouse suddenly makes a lot more sense.”
“She just likes getting her way and doesn’t like when her toys get taken from her,” I explain dryly.
Suddenly she pushes away so she can look at me with those liquid brown eyes.
“And you’re okay being seen as a toy?”
“Not now, but it worked for me at the time.”
She nods, a frown on her face. “Do you miss it?”
“With you sitting next to me? Fuck no, baby. Not even for a second.”
CHAPTER 22
Lissie
THE ANGER HAD felt almost comfortable—a shield to hide behind—but his honesty and gentle concern had doused that fire.
Yet currently his mouth and hand between my legs are stoking up a fire of an entirely different kind.
Much earlier he’d followed me into the bedroom, ignoring my protests and announcing there was no way he was leaving. He did nothing other than hold me until he fell asleep.
I didn’t. I’d lain awake, tormented by my rambling thoughts, until he mumbled sleepily a few minutes ago, “Can’t sleep?” Then at my vague hum, he started sliding down my body, promising to make me forget.
He’s doing exactly that. With my fingers curled in his hair I keep his head right where he’s doing wonderful things to me.
“James, honey…”
“Mmmm,” he hums, the vibrations against my sensitive core making me suck in a sharp breath.
When he fills me with two fingers and at the same time sucks hard on my clit, I detonate, crying out his name. My thighs are still trembling when he slowly makes his way back up my body, his facial hair lightly scraping my skin, causing me to break out in goosebumps.
I taste myself on his lips when they find mine. The soft stroke of his tongue along mine keeps me suspended in my bubble of mindlessness a little longer.
“Now sleep, Beautiful,” he mumbles, ending the gentlest of kisses.
I sigh with the loss of him, but don’t argue when he rolls on his back, taking me with him so I end up with my cheek resting on his chest. I snuggle in and promptly fall asleep.
_______________
I’m alone in bed when I wake up.
A quick peek at my alarm shows it’s already nine thirty. I notice a piece of paper stuck underneath my bedside lamp.
Had to check in with my dad, didn’t want to wake you.
Call me when you get up. Am at the clubhouse.
Y.
I lie back on my pillow, a smile pulling at my mouth, but then I remember yesterday, and sadness threatens to overwhelm me. Crying is not productive so I force myself to get out of bed and in the shower, making quick work of getting ready. The most I can do for Dani now is find out who killed her, and to do that I need to figure out what happened between Vegas in 2012 and her panicked phone call January of this year.
I make a cup of coffee while I call Yuma and not just because he wanted me to. Something he was about to say last night got lost in the shuffle, and I’d like to hear it.
He answers right away.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. How’s your father?”
“Off his rocker.” I snicker at his deadpan delivery. “Not kidding, Babe. He started this shit right after Momma died. Emptied out half the house, giving shit away to Goodwill. Clothes, furniture, kitchen shit, you name it; he got rid of it. Yesterday he wanted to paint not just one room, but the whole goddamn house. We’re not even close to done with that, and he announced half an hour ago he wants to redo all the flooring. Like I said; off his rocker.”
“Or maybe…” I suggest cautiously. “…he wants to stay busy. Perhaps he copes by staying active.”
“Possible. Thought maybe he couldn’t handle the reminders of her every day.”
“Have you asked him?” It’s silent on the other side. “Worth a try. You might even get a good answer.”
Finally he says, “You bein’ a smartass?”
“Maybe.”
His deep chuckle warms me.
“What are your plans?” he wants to know.
“Actually, that’s part of why I’m calling. You said something last night that I’m curious about. You mentioned knowing where Dani could be found—what did you mean?”
“I grabbed one of your posters to show around the clubhouse. We had folks here from out of town for the funeral, and Ginger happened to see the picture and recognized Dani.” I try to ignore the tinge of jealousy at the mention of her name. It doesn’t sit well that she was there for him and I wasn’t. That was all on me, though. Not Yuma, not even her, but me. “She said as far as she knew Dani belonged to the Moab Reds.”
I jot down the name.
“So they’re in Moab as well?”
“No, that’s the Mesa Riders. The Moab Reds are from Norwood. That guy, Chains, with Dani in that picture? He was their vice president.”
I write that down too.
“Lissie, do me a favor? Tell me you wanna know so you can pass it on to Ramirez?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I will, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do a little digging of my own. I owe Dani at least that much.
“Good. You wanna come here and help me paint?”
The thought of doing some physical work is actually quite appealing. The fact he’s asking me to help out in his parents’ house feels significant.
“Now?” I realize the moment it slips from my mouth that it could be interpreted as reluctant, so I quickly add, “I mean, I’d love to, but I wanted to drop in at the station first.”
He chuckles. “Love to, huh? You may change your tune after a day of this. Come whenever you’re ready,
Beautiful.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
I pour myself a coffee and sit down at the island, firing up my laptop. I dig up what I can about the Moab Reds, which isn’t a lot, but it does include a phone number. I hesitate, but only briefly, before punching into my phone.
It keeps ringing and I almost hang up when a woman finally answers.
“Reds’ clubhouse.”
Shit. What now? I should probably have thought about this a little more before I called. Best thing to do is stick as close to the truth as I can.
“Yes, hi. I’m looking for my friend, Dani? She was supposed to be there.”
“Here? Ain’t seen Dani around in forever.”
Bingo. She’d been there. That was almost too easy.
In the background I hear the mumble of a man’s voice, but I can’t make out what is said.
“Who’d you say you were?”
Fuck.
“Lissie Bucco. I’m actually pretty new in Colorado and Dani told me if ever I was in the neighborhood to give her a call. But you’re saying you haven’t seen her in a while? Is there anyone who might know where she is?”
“Hang up.” I can suddenly hear the man’s voice clearly, followed by a sharp click.
I try to call back, but I already know no one’s going to answer.
I email the number, names, and the image to my department email so I can print it off when I get there. I want to hand it over in person.
Oh, who the hell am I kidding, I feel out of the loop and want in.
I dart into the bedroom to grab some old clothes, because after I nose around the station, I plan to head straight to the club.
_______________
“The hell are you doing here, Bucco?”
Mike Bolter, the desk sergeant looks at me sternly. I guess someone must’ve told him I wasn’t in today, because I didn’t think to call in.
“Just dropping something off. Are the guys in?”
“Conference room.”
“Thanks.”
I first head to the bullpen to print off a few copies of the email I sent myself before going across the hall. The door is closed when I walk up and I politely knock.
“Yeah!” I hear called out and I enter.
Tony, Keith, Gomez, and Ouray’s wife, Luna Roosberg, are sitting at the far side of the table, looking up when I walk in. Blackfoot is the first to speak.
“Hey, Lissie. Didn’t expect you in.”
“Hi. I popped in because I have some information you should have. Unless someone already dug it up.” I hand out the copies.
“Where’d you get this?” Gomez wants to know and I proceed to tell them how I discovered the image and let them in on the information I got from Yuma.
“You’ve been poking around?” It’s the first thing Tony’s said since I walked in, and I can tell he’s pissed. “Joe’s not gonna be happy hearing that.”
“She was my friend. She called me when she was in trouble and I wasn’t able to help her then, but I may be able to help catch her killer. Tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing.” I pin him with a glare and I’m surprised when he’s the first to turn away.
“I would,” Luna says, looking at me with something like respect.
“As much as I appreciate the general sentiment,” Gomez intercedes. “And as much as the information you brought in is helpful, we can’t forget the fact there are five victims in total—not just one—and a dangerous organization right beyond our reach. We can’t afford to lose sight of the bigger picture or everything we’ve done so far will have been for nothing.”
As much as I know he’s right, I don’t like hearing it. I nod my understanding and turn toward the door, where Joe Benedetti is leaning against the doorpost.
“What are the chances you’ll drop this?” he asks.
I wisely keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. Behind me, Luna chuckles.
“We may be able to use this to our advantage,” Blackfoot voices, and the chief nods.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” he agrees.
“I wish someone would explain it to me,” Gomez grumbles.
“To the outside world Detective Bucco is grieving the loss of her friend and is looking for answers on her own time. In reality she’s rattling cages, while we wait in the background to catch whatever she shakes loose.”
“We need something believable that puts her out there by herself, in the first place.”
“That’s easy,” Joe claims, looking me straight in the eyes. “Detective Bucco has been compromising our investigation by doing some digging on her own. A suspension would not be out of order.”
Understanding dawns and I have to bite my lips to hide my smile.
“I can be her relay,” Luna pipes up. “The Arrow’s Edge clubhouse would provide credible cover.”
“Good. If we’re all on board, Detective Bucco, I need to see you in private.”
I follow him down the hall and into his office, where he closes the door and invites me to sit across from his desk.
“Are you on board?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You realize this might put a target on your back?”
“I’m aware.”
“This is far outside of your scope, Lissie. You’ve just had a hard hit. I need you to think about this carefully. We’re gonna need you to lay low for a day or two, so we can put a few safety measures in place. Don’t do anything until you hear from Luna.”
I appreciate him giving me an out, but I don’t need it. “I understand, Sir. I can do it.”
He nods curtly.
“All right. This has to be believable so I’m going to ask for your badge and your service gun, do you have your own sidearm?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I hand over both, dropping them on his desk. He opens his desk drawer places them in there.
“I’ll also have to write up an official report, which will be removed from your record when this is over.”
That gives me pause. Other than the sexual harassment fiasco, I’ve not had a blemish on my record ever. I made sure of that. I get it’s necessary but it still stings.
The chief gets up from his chair and I do the same.
“Detective Bucco, you are hereby relieved from duty until further notice,” he says in a firm voice, before adding in a softer tone, “And Lissie—my fucking name is Joe.”
CHAPTER 23
Yuma
“I SEE YOU smartened up.”
I follow Nosh’s gaze out the front window and notice Lissie walking up, a plastic bag in her hand. Ignoring my father, I open the door and go outside, waiting for her to come up the steps to the porch.
“Hey,” she says, a hesitant smile on her face. “Lisa directed me here. Hope that’s okay?”
I reach out and tag her behind the neck, pulling close so I can kiss her, which I do soundly.
“More than okay,” I mumble, when I reluctantly lift my mouth from hers. “Hope you brought some old clothes.” She holds up the plastic bag.
“You can change in the bathroom.” I guide her inside and point down the hall but Lissie goes the other way, toward my father who has his roller suspended midair.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she says, before surprising the shit out of me by giving him a one-armed hug.
Nosh is equally taken aback as his eyes dart to me, a hint of panic visible on his face at the unexpected display of affection. That never was my father’s strong suit, or Momma’s, for that matter. His free hand awkwardly pats her back and he even manages a rusty smile when she steps back.
“You too,” he tells her in his rusty voice.
Clearly moved she gives him a nod, throws a glance my way, and heads off down the hall to the bathroom.
“Can’t figure what a girl like that sees in you,” he signs, but with a spark of humor on his face.
“Fuck if I know,” I answer, grinning.
When Lissie joins us a few minutes later, Nosh
has a tray prepped for her and points her to the wall separating the living room from the kitchen. She sets to work right away. My dad and I share a look before we get back to it as well.
There’s little conversation over the next hour or so while we finish the first coat in the living room.
“Lunch,” Nosh announces.
“Let’s go grab a bite,” I mention to Lissie, who is rinsing out brushes and rollers at the kitchen sink.
Wapi, my father, and I moved the appliances out on the back porch this morning, along with the handful of pieces of furniture he has left in the living room. Nosh’s plan is to get the entire main floor done by the end of today before tackling the upstairs.
I still haven’t questioned him about his motivations. The process seems to be cathartic for him—and I have to admit, for me as well—so the why of it isn’t all that important.
Lissie is still curious, though, and when we sit down in the clubhouse—after slapping together a couple of sandwiches in the big kitchen—she reaches over and places her hand on top of my father’s.
“What made you decide to paint the house?”
His eyes dart to me for translation and I quickly sign her question. He seems to think on that for a moment.
“It’s time,” he says, before he adds to that with his hands. “Not the same without Momma. I don’t need a family home.” He points at Lisa sitting beside her granddaughter at the big table. “They do.”
Wow. I didn’t see that coming.
“Where are you going to live?” I finally ask him.
“Clubhouse for now. Until the guys get tired of keeping an old man company.”
“You sure about this?”
“Been thinking on it for a while. You okay with it?”
I’m surprised I am. Seems almost fitting he ends up where he started, in the clubhouse. But especially that Lisa—who’s taken to Momma’s role of caretaker like she was born to it—have a permanent place in the club’s compound.
“It’s a good plan. Have you talked to her?”
“Not yet. Want to get the house done first.”
I nod my understanding and Nosh tilts his head slightly in Lissie’s direction, who’s been following the conversation closely.
Edge of Darkness Page 17