Stone Cold Heart

by Laura Griffin

  “Absolutely.”

  Sara watched him leave with an ache in the pit of her stomach. Would he listen to her advice? Or was she talking to a wall? Sometimes Sara wished she had a badge instead of a damn lab coat.

  She propped her elbows on her desk and rubbed her temples. Her headache was back with a vengeance. It had started making regular appearances every day around six.

  Sara clenched her teeth and tried to will it away. But of course, that didn’t work. Lack of sleep wasn’t helping. Neither was the steady barrage of cases—three new ones in the last two days. Frustration churned inside her. She felt powerless and exhausted and, with each day that ticked by, more depressed by the world around her. She swiped the tears from her cheeks and stood up. Enough. She needed to get out of here. She needed to go home and take a break and think about something besides death and suffering.

  She hung her lab coat on the door and grabbed her purse. Poking her head into the autopsy suite, she saw Aaron bent over his microscope.

  “It’s ten to six,” she said.

  “Give me fifteen minutes.”

  “No hurry. I’ll wait upstairs.”

  He glanced up. “You okay?”

  “Fine. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  She ignored his look of concern and headed out the door into the long windowless corridor. Most days, she liked the solitude of working down here, but every now and then, it made her want to tear her hair out.

  The elevator dinged, and she darted around the corner to catch it, nearly smacking into someone. She jumped back.

  “Whoa.” Nolan gazed down at her, and she felt a flood of relief. She wanted to hug him, but she kept her hands to herself.

  His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Her pulse was racing suddenly. “What brings you down here?”

  “Had a meeting with Mia. Thought I’d stop in and say hi. You all right?”

  “You know, shit day.” She waved off his concern. “You don’t want to hear about it.”

  “Well, can I give you a ride home?”

  She tipped her head to the side. “How’d you know I needed a ride home?”

  “You’re here. Your car isn’t. I figure it’s in the shop?”

  “It is.”

  “Then let me take you home.”

  Sara gazed up at him, still shocked at seeing him. He looked good. He wore jeans and his leather jacket, and he had the five o’clock shadow going. And suddenly, a ride with Nolan was exactly what she needed.

  “I’d like that. Let me tell Aaron.” She pulled out her phone and sent a message as they walked to the elevator.

  “Thanks for the offer,” she said when they stepped inside.

  “Sure.” He looked her up and down. “Does your shit day have anything to do with the Clarke County deputy I passed on my way down here?”

  “Yes,” she said, but didn’t elaborate. She didn’t want to dump all her problems on him.

  They reached the lobby, which was busy with Delphi staffers heading home for the night, probably to spouses and children and adoring pets. Sara was going home to an empty refrigerator and a stack of unpaid bills.

  She looked at Nolan. “So, what’s up with Mia?” she asked, trying for cheerful.

  He held open the door for her as she stepped into the warm evening air. “She has DNA results from the T-shirt we found.”

  “I thought she already finished with that. She confirmed the DNA belonged to the victim.”

  “She found a second DNA profile and turned up a forensic hit,” he said.

  “You mean the crime-scene index?”

  “Yep.”

  “So it’s a link to another crime,” she said, “but not a specific person.”

  “Yep.”

  Nolan sounded disappointed, and she knew he’d been hoping their unsub might have served time and be in the system already. It was a lot easier to find someone who had a track record with the police.

  They walked to his pickup, which was even dustier than the last time she’d seen it. What had he been doing this week? She reached for the door before he could open it and slid inside.

  His truck had a masculine smell that was becoming familiar, and she leaned back to enjoy it as he slid behind the wheel. He shot her a curious look as he backed out of the space. They exited the parking lot, and he turned east on the highway toward San Marcos.

  He looked at her. “Where to?”

  “Market Street and Elm,” she said. “I’m next door to the bakery.”

  “The old paper factory.”

  “You know it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sara watched the scenery whisk by, feeling her tension drain as she got some distance between herself and work. She and Aaron had come in early and stayed late for the past three days.

  “You want to tell me about it?” Nolan asked.

  Sara looked at him.

  “Whatever that deputy did to make you cry.”

  “He didn’t make me cry.”

  Nolan shot her a look.

  “Okay, fine, I’m upset.” She sighed. “It’s this case we got yesterday. A child’s remains found wrapped in a blanket.”

  “The Benson boy.”

  “You know the case?”

  He nodded.

  She should have figured he’d know about it. “I did the autopsy last night. Based on my findings, we’re talking about a six-year-old who weighed thirty-four pounds at the time of death. He was forty inches tall.”

  “Malnourished.”

  She nodded, looking away as the tears welled up again. Children who aren’t loved don’t grow. It was a simple fact she’d learned from Underwood in the early days of her career.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She scoffed. “Why on earth are you sorry?”

  “I hate that you have to see stuff like that.”

  “You’ve seen it, too. I’m guessing that’s one reason you left Austin PD for a smaller town.”

  “You see that stuff everywhere, which is why it sucks.” He cast a wary look at her. “And that’s not why I left APD.”

  Silence settled over them as Sara studied his profile. She didn’t want to push, but she had the sudden urge to know. In some ways, they’d been as intimate as two people could be. In other ways, she felt like she hardly knew him.

  “What happened there?” she asked. “You mentioned a ‘cloud of suspicion,’ but that doesn’t really tell me much.”

  He was silent, and she figured she’d overstepped her bounds.

  “I was with someone.” He cleared his throat. “Michelle. We were partners. Turned out she wasn’t the person I thought she was.”

  “Partners as in—”

  “We worked together. And later, after she transferred to Vice, we had a personal relationship, too. She got caught up in some stuff.” He shook his head. “I guess sometimes you never really know people.”

  Sara watched his expression, trying to fill in the gaps. Had she taken bribes? Planted evidence? “What exactly—”

  “There were some guys shaking down suspects while they were being collared for drug offenses. They had a ring going, you know, taking kickbacks to cut people loose. She got involved.”

  Without asking, Sara knew with absolute certainty that he’d had no idea. His integrity was as much a part of him as his eye color.

  “How did you find out?” she asked.

  “Nathan. I didn’t believe him at first. We were at a bar when he told me, and I thought he was messing around. When I realized he was serious, I took a swing at him, damn near broke his nose.”

  “You punched Nathan?” Sara tried to imagine it.

  “Wasn’t much of a punch, but yeah.”

  “Jeez, Nolan. And you’re still friends?” She recalled Alex’s words. Nolan’s a good guy. One of my favorite people. She’d said that about a man who had punched her husband at a bar.

  “I apologized. We’re good now.”

  Sara took a deep breath and blew it o
ut. What an ordeal for him, both professionally and personally.

  “Did you leave the department on bad terms?” she asked.

  “Officially, no. It was never tied back to me, but there was still blowback. Some people had doubts, and I could feel it every time I came to work. I didn’t think I could be effective if even a handful of my coworkers didn’t have faith in me, so I made a move.”

  “Are you glad?”

  “Nothing about it makes me glad, really, but I think it’s for the better. I like what I’m doing now, I like being in a place where I know folks personally. It’s a smaller department, so I am able to have a bigger impact—that wasn’t just bullshit.” He glanced at her. “You asked me about this before, the night we went out for beers.”

  That night seemed like ages ago now. So much had happened. They’d become friends, and more. Sara didn’t have a label for the more part, and she was too overwhelmed right now to think about it. She didn’t need one more iota of stress today.

  She leaned her head back, letting the hum of Nolan’s truck soothe her. She suddenly felt exhausted, and she didn’t want to talk about work anymore. Nolan seemed to take the hint, and the minutes ticked quietly by as they neared downtown San Marcos. Most of the shops had closed for the day, but the restaurants were just starting to fill up.

  Nolan neared Sara’s vintage brick building.

  “Thank you for the ride,” she said.

  “No problem. You want to have dinner?”

  She looked at him. He sounded so casual, but she sensed he cared about her answer, and she felt a flood of nerves. She didn’t want to lead him on, didn’t want him to think this was the start of something serious. But she didn’t want to let him go, either.

  “There’s a pasta place on the corner that’s pretty good,” she said. “Leonardo’s? It’s the red awning just down from my building.”

  “That works.”

  Nolan neared the restaurant and smoothly parallel-parked in front of a meter. He cut the engine and looked at her. Before she could lose her nerve, she grabbed her purse and slid from the truck.

  The aroma of garlic bread hit her, and she felt a rush of anticipation. Only some of it had to do with food. Nolan joined her on the sidewalk, and she noted the clusters of people milling outside the restaurant holding pagers. Beneath the red awning, every patio table was full.

  Sara’s head started to throb. She didn’t want to wait in line tonight, or be around crowds, or make small talk. Her emotions felt too fragile today.

  Nolan was watching her with those sharp brown eyes. “What is it?”

  “Let’s not do this.”

  He steered her away from the crowd. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’d rather be at my place. Let’s get takeout. You mind?”

  He rested his hand on her shoulder. “I want to spend time with you, Sara. I don’t give a damn where.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Sara’s nerves started up again as she unlocked her door with Nolan at her side. She didn’t know where this was going. No, she did know. It was going nowhere. She probably wouldn’t see him after the case ended, so she was digging a deeper hole for herself by spending all this time with him. She should make an excuse and head this off now, but instead, she was doing the exact opposite.

  She stepped into her apartment, and the instant she switched on the light, she remembered just how messy it was. She’d rushed off to work this morning without even making the bed.

  Nolan paused to look around, then set the bag of food on the bar.

  “Good windows,” he said, zeroing in on her favorite feature besides the wood floors. He walked over to check out the view, and Sara took the opportunity to snatch her bathrobe off the sofa arm and scoop up several pairs of flip-flops. She opened the utility closet, dumped everything onto the washer, and shut the door.

  Nolan looked amused. “Don’t clean up for me.”

  “Oh, don’t worry.”

  Clean was a pipe dream. A basket of clothes perched on her breakfast table, optimistically waiting to be folded. Sara grabbed several mugs off the coffee table and took them to the sink. The dishwasher was full, so there wasn’t anywhere to stash them.

  Nolan shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair. He turned to examine her bookshelves, and she admired his wide shoulders as he reached for a framed photo.

  “Machu Picchu?” he asked.

  “You know it?”

  “I spent a summer in South America after college.”

  “Where?” she asked, surprised.

  “Santiago. It was an immersion program. I was trying to learn Spanish. Thought it would be useful for work.”

  “Is it?”

  “I’m not great, but I get by,” he said.

  She didn’t know why she was so surprised. Nolan traveled and read and cared about other cultures. She remembered her crack about Tolkien and realized she’d been too quick to judge him. One of her dad’s sayings popped into her head: Small-town doesn’t mean small-minded.

  Nolan replaced the photo and picked up another one showing her with several friends on a ledge overlooking Peru’s Sacred Valley. She hadn’t taken notice of whether Nolan kept photos in his house or who was in them. It was a missed opportunity, and she’d missed it on purpose. She hadn’t wanted to get emotionally involved. And yet here she was, inviting him into her home and feeling anxious about what he thought. She wanted him to like it. She wanted him to see her as a successful, independent woman who’d built a life for herself in a new place. She didn’t know why she wanted so badly for him to see her that way, but she did.

  She walked closer and sat on the back of the sofa. “Thank you for not giving me crap the other day.”

  He set down the picture frame. “About what?”

  “The way I slipped out without saying good-bye.”

  “You didn’t ‘slip.’ I felt you get out of bed.”

  “Oh.”

  Guilt needled at her, and she wasn’t sure why. They weren’t in a relationship.

  And yet he’d come to her motel when he heard about the burglary. And he’d left her a message with an update about the fingerprints. And he’d stopped by the lab to check on her. He’d been totally decent to her, and she’d been avoiding him because she was afraid. All these conflicting feelings swirled inside her, and she hadn’t planned on any of this.

  Her plan had been to establish herself at her new job and make friends and focus on her career path. Her plan had not been to fall headlong into another serious relationship, especially a long-distance one that would force her to compromise.

  She’d been trying to protect herself from getting too involved. But when she was around Nolan, the attraction took over, and all her logic and planning seemed to evaporate.

  She stepped closer, and his gaze heated as she reached up to touch the stubble along his jaw.

  “I’m glad you came and found me today,” she said.

  He watched her intently as she brushed her hand down his shirt and traced her fingers over his gold detective’s shield. It represented so many hours and months and years of hard work and commitment, and she admired that.

  He didn’t move a muscle as she trailed her fingertips over the grip of his gun and the holster that was warm from his body heat. Her fingers moved to his belt buckle. She glanced up. The intensity in his eyes sent a flurry of nerves through her, so she focused on his belt and getting it undone without looking clumsy. She unfastened the buckle, and he took over, pulling his belt and holster off with smooth efficiency. He set them on the coffee table and added handcuffs and car keys to the pile.

  He took her wrist and pulled her close, then bent his head to kiss her, taking her mouth with raw need he didn’t bother to hide. His kiss was deep and hard, and she could practically taste his pent-up frustration with her as he melded her against him and went after her mouth. His teeth nicked her lip.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “No, I like it.”

  Groaning
, he clutched her against him and walked her backward to the couch, then lowered her over the arm. He eased down on top of her as she pulled at his shirt, impatient to get her hands on his bare skin. He worked the buttons of her blouse, and one popped off, skittering across the wood floor.

  “Shit.”

  She pushed his hands away and hurriedly undid the buttons, then wrestled her arms free. He swooped down to kiss her breast through the thin white bra, and she wished she’d worn something even remotely sexy. But she hadn’t expected to see him today, much less bring him home with her.

  His mouth was hot and hungry, and she stroked her fingers through his hair. He slid his hand behind her, once again deftly unhooking her bra, and he pushed it up and out of his way. He took her nipple into his mouth, and she cried out, arching against him as she tipped her head back. She loved his weight on her and the rasp of his beard against her skin. He kissed her and teased her with his mouth as the need built and burned inside her.

  “Nolan.”

  He moved up to her lips, and she slid her hands under his shirt, loving his lean waist and the valley at the base of his spine. She remembered the way their bodies fit together so perfectly and felt a giddy surge of anticipation. She wanted to be skin to skin.

  She pulled away. “Bed.”

  He paused to look at her. Then he pushed up and in one smooth motion scooped her off the couch, making her gasp when he stumbled over a stray shoe on the floor. He went straight for the bed and dropped her unceremoniously on the rumpled sheets. Sara untangled herself from her bra as he took his shirt off and tossed it away. He rested his knee beside her, and the bedframe squeaked under his weight.

  He stretched out over her, resting his weight on his palms. “I’ve been dying to kiss you.”

  “Then kiss me,” she said, hooking her leg around his hip. Instead, he hovered over her, looking down at her yellowing bruises.

  “How are your ribs?”

  “Fine.” She brought his head down to kiss him, shifting her hips until she had him right where she wanted him. But then he pulled back and stood up, stripping off his clothes as she watched from the bed.

  Sara kicked off her sandals and unfastened her jeans, and his gaze heated as she pulled down the zipper. He took her cuffs and gave a sharp tug, then whisked the jeans off and dropped them to the floor. The bed creaked again as he stretched over her.