Maysen Jar Box Set

by Devney Perry

  “And I’m not going to lie and say my feelings for you aren’t the reason you have this case in the first place. What I will say is that you need to be smart. I’m giving you Hernandez so he can take the lead.”

  Fuck no. This was my case. “Dad—”

  “Think about it, Cole.” He held up a hand to cut me off. “Do you want a relationship with this woman?”

  I closed my mouth.

  “Then this has to be done by the book. I’m not saying you’d fuck up the investigation, but put yourself in an attorney’s shoes. Let’s say you actually find the killer. How is it going to look to a defense attorney when the widow’s boyfriend’s name is all over the police report? Don’t give the killer any more chances than he’s already had.”

  I sighed and leaned back in the chair. Dad was right. If we actually found the killer, I wanted the fucker to hang, and in order for that to happen, the investigation itself couldn’t be called into question.

  “Okay. But can I still participate?”

  “Participate,” Dad nodded, “but stay behind the curtain. Do the grunt work. Spend your time staring at video footage, but let Matt run any and all questioning. Let him be the face of the investigation.”

  “Got it.”

  “And don’t worry. Even if you’re not the lead, this case could be big for your career.”

  “That’s not why I’m doing this.”

  “I know.” He held up his hands. “I’m just saying. It could be the case that guarantees you get my job when I retire.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not—we don’t have time to talk about that today.”

  “You’re right. Let’s talk about that later.” His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall behind my back. “Quarter ’til. Out you go.”

  I pushed up from the chair. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Say hello to Poppy for me.”

  “Will do.” Dad had been a hell of a cop in his day—smart enough to know where I was running off to this afternoon without needing to be told.

  But even good cops had blind spots, and my career was his. No matter how many times I told him, he just couldn’t see why I’d never want his job.

  Someday, I’d have to make him see. And hope like hell he wasn’t disappointed in his son.

  “Hey, Molly. Is Poppy in the back?”

  “Yeah.” Molly waved me closer to the register as she leaned across the counter. “Listen, she’s had a rough morning. I know you guys were planning on the fair this afternoon, but she might not be up to it.”

  A rough morning? My heart rate jumped up a notch. “What happened?”

  “I’ll let her tell you.” She nodded toward the kitchen door. “She’s in the office, just head on back.”

  I didn’t waste any time pushing through the swinging door and walking straight to the office, where I found Poppy with her head in her hands at the desk.

  “Hey.”

  Her red and puffy eyes shot up to mine. “Hey.”

  Was her chin quivering? She was going to break my fucking heart. I’d never seen her cry, not even after her husband had been killed. Talk about a punch to the gut.

  “What happened?” I walked to the desk, pushing aside a stack of papers so I could sit on the edge. I flattened my palms on my thighs, pressing them down, fighting the urge to pull Poppy into my arms.

  Poppy wiped her eyes and sniffled. “I had lunch today with Jamie’s parents and Jimmy, Jamie’s granddad. We got in a big fight. I asked them if I could have Jamie’s old truck, since technically it’s mine, but they’ve had it at their ranch all these years. They asked why I wanted the truck, which led to me telling them I wanted to fix it up, which led to them asking why again and me finally admitting I was doing Jamie’s birthday list.”

  “Didn’t go over well, huh?”

  She scoffed. “Not at all. Debbie, his mom, started crying. Kyle informed me that it wasn’t my place to do their son’s list and that I was crossing the line.”

  Assholes. I didn’t personally know Jamie’s parents, but treating Poppy like that spoke volumes. But calling them assholes probably wouldn’t help. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She shrugged. “I’d expected them to be upset about it, but I guess I’d hoped deep down that they’d understand why I wanted to do his list. We all used to be so close once. Now . . . things are different. They blame me for Jamie’s death.”

  “What the fuck?” Jamie’s parents blamed Poppy for his death? That was bullshit. “You aren’t responsible for his death.” That responsibility belonged to the sick fuck I was becoming more and more dedicated to hunting down with every passing second.

  Poppy looked to her lap. “No, they’re right. I am partly to blame. I’m the one who asked Jamie to go to the liquor store in the first place. He didn’t really want to go, but he did for me.”

  Did she seriously think this was her fault? “You are not to blame.”

  A couple of tears started to fall again, and she hurried to wipe them dry. “I am. He’d be alive if I hadn’t asked him to go to that store.”

  “No.” I leaned in closer. “You are not to blame. The guy that pulled the trigger? He’s got Jamie’s death on his head. Not you.”

  She nodded but didn’t look up.

  “Poppy, look at me.” I tipped up her chin with the side of my finger. “There are things in the world outside of our control. Other people’s actions mostly. Nothing you did caused Jamie’s death.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “Logically, I know you’re right. But I still feel like this is all my fault.” Her shoulders began shaking as the hold on her tears broke, sending them streaming down her beautiful face.

  Screw it. I grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the chair. Then I held her, whispering into her hair as she cried into my black shirt.

  She didn’t once try and push me away. Instead, she collapsed against my chest—her hands fisting the cotton at my sides as she let go. When she clung harder, I held on tighter. Every one of her tears sent a spear through my heart.

  Had she been living with this guilt for five years? No wonder she’d been so diligent about visiting Simmons. She was looking for some answers—for a place to put the blame so she could take it off her own shoulders.

  Poppy cried hard but it didn’t last long. She pulled herself together, sniffling and taking a few deep breaths before she stood back.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped at the wet spots on my shirt.

  “Don’t be sorry.” I trapped her hand under mine until she looked me in the eyes. “No apologies for tears, okay?”

  She nodded and I let her hand go so she could dry her face. Then she took another step back, standing tall. Damn. Even blotchy faced, she was beautiful. She let her grace—her incredible strength—shine through her sad smile.

  My arms already felt empty with her standing three feet away. When her shoulders dropped, I had a brief flash of hope that she’d need me again, but she sat back into her desk chair instead.

  “I’m okay.” She nodded. “I’m okay.”

  She was. She would be okay. Somehow, I’d find a way to make it okay. I couldn’t bring her husband back, but I could track down his killer. I could be the shoulder she cried on. And, maybe, I could be the man at her side as she started a new life.

  “You know the worst part about lunch was Jimmy.” She hung her head. “I should have told him sooner. I see him once a week and I never have told him I was doing Jamie’s list. He looked so hurt at lunch. I should have told him.”

  “Give him some time and I’m sure he’ll come around. They all will.” I was talking out of my ass here—I’d never met these people—but I was grasping for anything to make her feel better.

  “I’m going to pretend you know what you’re talking about and just believe you.”

  I chuckled. “Good plan.”

  “Speaking of plans. We’d better get to the fair if we’re going to get through all the rides today.”

  “We don’t have to go. If you’d
rather do it later, then we can wait.”

  She shook her head. “No, I want to go. It will be a fun distraction.”

  “All right.” I held a hand out to help her stand. “Let’s ride.”

  Four hours later, I was buckling my seat belt as a carnival worker locked us in a cage. A cage that had once been a clean white but was now spotted with rust.

  “I fucking hate The Zipper,” I muttered. “Are you sure about this?”

  Poppy looked green. “I’m sure.”

  Liar. There wasn’t an ounce of confidence in her voice. “Maybe we should take a break. Come back and do this in an hour or so.” We’d saved The Zipper for last because it was the ride that had scared her the most.

  “No.” She clicked her own seat belt with shaking hands. “This is the last ride and then we’re done. We just have to get through this, and we’re done.”

  “Okay.” I reached up and gripped the handle on the side of the car. My hand felt slimy because I was sweating my balls off. It was blistering outside, probably over ninety, and not a breeze to be found. Being trapped in this hot metal car wasn’t helping.

  I needed water. Better yet, a fucking beer. I hadn’t gone on this many rides since I was a kid, and even then, Mom and Dad had limited my tickets. But there was no limit today. I’d spent almost two hundred dollars on tickets because I’d refused to let Poppy pay.

  These fucking traveling carnivals were raking it in. Bastards. Even the kiddie rides had cost five bucks. You’d think they could afford some spray paint to spruce up these cages.

  “Enjoy the ride.” With our car locked, the worker smacked the side, then moved back to the control panel.

  “Oh my god,” Poppy groaned as the car rocked back, her face going from green to white, matching her knuckles on the bar across our knees.

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this?” I hoped a distraction would get her through the loading process. And then we’d just have to stick it out through the two-minute ride.

  “Jamie never had a chance to do many fair rides. He was always showing livestock with 4-H, but he loved stuff like this. He even begged me to go to Disneyland for our honeymoon.”

  I swallowed hard, not wanting to picture Poppy on a honeymoon. A niggling prickle crept up my neck. I’d been pushing images of Poppy and her husband aside, compartmentalizing them in a box I had no plans to ever open, but the damn lid kept flopping open.

  It didn’t help when there were reminders everywhere, like her wedding rings always shining on her finger.

  The worst part was, I’d asked her to tell me about him. And it wasn’t that I didn’t want to know. I did. I wanted to know everything about Poppy. I just didn’t realize how hearing her talk about Jamie, seeing her face soften, would make me feel.

  Jealous. Like an asshole, I was jealous.

  The car rocked again and Poppy gasped, pulling my thoughts back into the cage. My free hand reached out and took one of hers off the bar.

  She laced her fingers with mine and squeezed. “Keep distracting me.”

  I grinned, amazed again at how well this woman had me figured out. “Did you go on rides as a kid?”

  “No. This was always more of Finn’s thing.”

  I didn’t remember much of Finn Alcott other than his hair, which was the same color as Poppy’s, and how he’d stepped up for his sister five years ago. After she’d texted him, he’d come to her house and taken over, making the difficult phone calls so she wouldn’t have to deliver the news of Jamie’s murder.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked.

  “He’s okay.” The car jerked and Poppy gripped my hand so hard my knuckles cracked. “Him and Molly are struggling to adjust to their divorce.”

  I tried to adjust my hand and restore some blood flow, but she wasn’t having it so I just let her squeeze. “I didn’t realize they’d been married.”

  “Yeah. They got divorced not too long ago.”

  Below us, the carnival worker shouted something I couldn’t make out and the car started to rock.

  “Last ride. Last ride. Last ride,” Poppy chanted.

  “Just close your eyes. Two minutes, and this will all be over.”

  She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Then we rode The Zipper.

  While Poppy kept her eyes closed the entire time, I kept mine open and on our linked hands. By the time the ride was over and our car stopped shaking, I’d memorized the feel of her delicate fingers laced with mine.

  “Poppy.” Her eyes were still closed tight as our car stopped to unload first. “Poppy, I need my hand back so we can get out.”

  Her eyes popped open and her entire frame relaxed. “We did it,” she breathed.

  “You did it.”

  “No. We did it.” Her eyes looked up to mine as she smiled. “I wouldn’t have done this without you, Cole.”

  I leaned closer, not in a rush anymore to get out of this hot cage. Not with her eyes and hand holding mine. “I’m glad I—”

  “Hey,” the ride operator snapped. “You guys gonna get out?”

  Damn.

  “Sorry.” Poppy wiggled her hand free and scrambled to unbuckle her seat belt.

  I unbuckled too, stepping out onto the platform. My shirt was sticking to my back and I held on to the rail as I followed Poppy down the stairs to the dirt below.

  “No matter what new rides they come up with, The Zipper always seems to ring my bell like no other.”

  She laughed and looked up at the ride. “Me and you are done, Zipper! You win.”

  When her smile came back to me, my heart jumped in a strange rhythm—almost like it skipped a beat. I’d never felt anything like it before.

  “I could use a beer. What do you say, Detective? Can I buy you a cold one?”

  My perfect woman. “Definitely.”

  Chapter Nine

  43rd Birthday: Go to a drive-in movie

  POPPY

  Thirty minutes after we’d left The Zipper, I was on my second beer and feeling practically euphoric. The combination of alcohol and the fading adrenaline rush from the carnival rides had put a smile on my face that would stay all night. On top of that, Finn had just texted that he’d brought the kids to the fair, and I couldn’t wait to see their happy faces.

  “Hey, would you care if we met up with my brother and his kids?”

  “Of course not.” Cole grinned, then drained the last of his beer.

  I smiled and did the same, tossing my plastic cup in the trash on our way out of the beer garden.

  As we stepped through the gate, Cole’s hand came to the small of my back. “Lead the way.”

  A tingle traveled from his fingertips to my neck at the unfamiliar gesture. Jamie had never done that for me—guided me as we walked. He’d been more of a grab-my-hand-and-drag-me-behind-him kind of guy.

  But I liked this with Cole. I liked that it was different. I liked that it was subtle. I liked that in a sea of people, it tied us together. And when his hand fell away a few steps later, I missed the pressure of his fingers as we walked through the Friday-night crowd back toward the rides.

  Unlike when we’d arrived at the fairgrounds, the sight of bright lights and spinning rides didn’t make me nauseous. An enormous weight had been lifted now that we were done with this particular list item. From now on, I’d never feel compelled to do more than ride the Ferris wheel.

  “Thanks again for coming with me tonight.” If not for Cole’s help, I doubt I would have made it through.

  “Sure.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Thanks for not puking on me.”

  I laughed just as I spotted Finn standing outside the gate to the small dinosaur-themed train. “There they are.” I pointed and changed directions.

  “Ugh,” he groaned, glaring at the dinosaur cars.

  He’d barely been able to fit on that ride. He’d had to sit in the caboose by himself because it was the only car big enough for his long legs. Even then, his knees had come up nearly to his chin. But he’d tou
ghed it out through the four slow laps, and when we’d drawn a crowd of adults, staring at him with puzzled faces, Cole had just smiled and waved, pretending like it was no big deal that a grown man was on the kiddie train.

  “You didn’t like this one?” I teased. “I think this was my favorite ride of the day.”

  Cole scoffed. “My favorite part was when I got stuck trying to get out of the damn car.”

  I laughed. I’d had to help him off the ride by holding his arm so he could balance as he yanked his feet free. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.” I tried to rein it in, but I couldn’t stop picturing the faces of the parents who had been watching. They’d had vise grips on their children as they watched Cole curse at the triceratops. “Did you see that one mother? She looked like she was about to call the cops on you.”

  “Thank god she didn’t.” He shook his head. “I never would have lived that down at the station.”

  I smiled up at him, conveying silent thanks. It was hard to believe that I’d had such an awful lunch with Jamie’s parents earlier. Cole had turned my whole day around by bringing me here.

  Him, and doing this for Jamie.

  Even though his parents were against it, today had reinforced my decision to finish the birthday list. No matter how much Debbie and Kyle objected, I was seeing this through. A year ago, nothing would have helped after such a bad encounter with Kyle and Debbie. I would have let it ruin my day, probably an entire week. But doing something fun, something for Jamie, had made it all go away.

  “Aunt Poppy!” Kali screeched, waving wildly from her seat on the dinosaur train.

  “Kali!” I waved back as I reached Finn’s side. My brother gave me a quick hug before I bent down to Max in his stroller. “How’s my Max?” I kissed his cheek.

  “Pop, Pop.” He pointed to Kali. “Wook.”

  “I see that. Isn’t it cool?”

  He stared at his sister with a dazed look, probably wondering what she was doing or wishing he were old enough to follow.

  I smiled and kissed him again, then stood just as Cole and Finn were shaking hands.