by Skye Jordan
Tears well up in her eyes. She looks like she’s going to start pleading again, but I’m pissed. “Get back to work, and don’t make me regret not calling your uncle to pick you up right now.”
16
Xavier
When my cell rings with Chloe’s number, I’m not sure if I should be happy or concerned. She never—ever—calls me when I’m working. She has this idea that I should never be distracted. But around here, there really isn’t much to be distracted from.
I connect and put the phone to my ear. “It’s a little too late for lunch and a little too early for a bootie call.”
She laughs softly. “I was just, you know, thinking about you, and wanted to see how your day is going.”
“Well, that’s sure a nice surprise.”
“So, how’s it going?”
There was something a little off in her voice. “Well, I’m standing on the porch with a very naked Wildfire resident, trying to explain that there is a law against public nudity.”
“Are you serious?”
I meet Mr. Duffy’s muddied gaze again. He’s still scowling at me, thin arms crossed tightly over his wrinkled chest. “Oh, very.”
“Don’t be talking smack, Wilde,” Duffy mutters. “I got a son who’s a lawyer. I’ll sue you for slander.”
Chloe laughs. “Mr. Duffy. Should have guessed. He’s certainly in a mood.”
“No kidding.” When she doesn’t say more I ask, “How’s your day going?”
“Uh, good, you know, same. I ran into Bodhi at the market and, I don’t know, I think he may have actually accepted things.”
But she still sounds off and I hate—with a capital H—the thought that feelings for Bodhi might have the power to interfere with her and me. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“Definitely.”
“Then why do you sound, I don’t know, tense?”
“Do I? I don’t mean to.” Then she changes the subject. “Are you doing something with Piper tonight?”
I grin, take a few steps off the porch toward the sidewalk, but face Duffy again, just to make sure he doesn’t try to head back to the flower bed to garden without any clothes on. “Why? Wanna get me naked again?”
“Of course,” she says with a smile in her voice, “but we’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I know Piper needs you.”
“Isn’t she at the marina today?”
“She was here earlier. Worked a half day.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I just don’t want to get between you two. I want her to get everything she needs.”
“You’re amazing in so many ways.”
“Right back at you. I’ll let you get back to the naked ninety-year-old.”
“I’ll touch base tonight after I talk to Piper.”
“I’ll be here,” she says. “Stay safe.”
I disconnect and frown at my phone. That was…weird. She seemed to have more to say, but evidently not over the phone. The idea that more than a sincere apology happened between Chloe and Bodhi creates a knot of unease in my gut. My mind skips down that trail so fast, I’m envisioning Chloe wanting to see me to tell me that what we have isn’t real and that she wants to give her soul mate or twin flame or whatever the hell Bodhi called it another shot.
Which would literally fucking kill me.
Maybe it is better if she doesn’t call me at work, because now I’m seriously distracted.
I return to the porch and find Mr. Duffy asleep in his rocking chair. I wake him and escort him into the house, my mood now in the basement.
Four hours later, I’ve convinced myself everything with Chloe is fine and find myself back at Duffy’s place. His nap evidently gave him enough energy to head out into the yard again.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Duffy,” I tell him, “you can’t mow the lawn naked.”
“I’m on my own damn property. Last time I looked, this was still a free country.”
He’s toggling between angry and repentant. Since I threatened to take him to jail, he’s keeping the blanket I pulled from the trunk over his lap. Which is good, because I don’t want to head to jail, even though I’m nearing the end of my shift. I heard dispatch send my coworker and the lone female officer on the WPD to a suspicious-person report about four or five minutes ago. If this turns into something good, I want to be there.
“You’ve got to put on pants—even if it’s just boxer shorts—when you’re in your yard where the neighbors can see you,” I tell Duffy for about the sixth time today.
“My neighbors need to mind their own goddamned business.”
His granddaughter's Honda pulls to the curb. Mandy stands and shoots an exasperated glare across the roof. “Grandpa, I can’t keep doing this. You want me to lose my job?”
Mandy is a waitress at a restaurant in the next town, and she and I warmed the sheets a couple of times months ago. She’s a beauty, no doubt. Her long hair is still flame in the dusky light of sunset. Creamy skin, freckles, and she’s feisty too. But I’m so damn crazy about Chloe, I don’t feel the slightest pull toward any other woman. And that only brings back our strange conversation earlier in the day.
“Sorry,” I tell her when Mandy steps up beside me. “I wouldn’t have called, but he refuses to go inside.”
“This is my own goddamned property. The Declaration of Independence says life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are basic human rights. I want my basic human rights.”
Mandy sighs, rubs her forehead, then drops her hand and looks up at me, giving my biceps an affectionate squeeze. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Thank you for calling me instead of taking him in.”
“No problem. At least there won’t be if you can convince him to go inside.”
“Oh, he’ll get inside, all right.” She crosses her arms and gives her grandfather a menacing scowl. “You get in that house by the count of ten, or I’m canceling your cable.”
“What? You can’t—”
“One, two, three—”
Her grandfather blusters. “Fine. I’ll call David. I’ll sue the city.”
He tosses the blanket to the ground and stands.
Mandy makes a sound in her throat—half groan, half laugh—and rubs her temples with both hands. “With the blanket, Grandpa.”
Grumbling, her grandfather swipes the blanket from the ground, but instead of wrapping it around his waist, he just carries it as he stomps back inside, slamming the door.
I laugh and shake my head. “You’ve got your hands full with that one.”
“No joke. I’ll get your blanket.”
“You go ahead and keep it.” I cue the mic on my shoulder to tell dispatch I’m done here. “613 10-24.”
“Copy, 613,” the dispatcher responds to my status.
“Heard you’re dating Chloe.”
Normally, the mention of Chloe makes me smile, but I’m not sure how Mandy will react to the news. “I am.”
“It’s about fucking time,” she says, surprising me. “Sure, it’s a blow to all single women in Wildfire, but I’m glad you finally caught her. It took you long enough.”
“That it did.” But maybe it wasn’t soon enough. Maybe she and I didn’t get enough time to cement our relationship before Bodhi returned.
“10-33.” Kelly yells the code for an officer needing immediate assistance, then adds, “10-43,” the code for pursuit along with “On foot, multiple suspects.”
My adrenaline spikes, and I jog to my unit. “Thanks for your help.”
“They scattered,” Kelly says, breathless, “I’m following a Caucasian male, late teens, white shirt over black pants…headed east on Plum, two other suspects…turned west on Pepper.”
I swing my unit around and head toward Pepper Street. The radio is cluttered with traffic, confirming multiple units headed toward the scene.
“10-43,” comes from Tommy Croft, confirming he’s also in pursuit. “Two suspects, both Caucasian, one male, one female.”
; I’d bet my next paycheck this is the three idiots who can’t stay out of trouble around here—Smith, Dale, and Willow.
Only, Kelly comes back on the radio with “Suspect one in custody.” Then “10-52. Fourth suspect down.”
She gives the original store’s address to dispatch an ambulance to the scene. Fourth suspect has to be Chase, goddammit.
Then Croft calls in a breathless “On foot, male suspect…cutting through yard at…1610 Pepper. Female suspect…headed west on Maple.”
“613 headed east on Maple,” I call in, slowing to search for movement. My headlights catch the flash of light clothing on a person darting into a yard with long hair flying out behind her. A yard with no back fence.
I gun the engine and whip around the corner and down the opposite street. “613 10-43 female suspect,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt while I’m still moving. “Cutting through the yard at 1012 Maple—”
I catch movement on my left and stomp on my brake just as someone runs right into my left front panel and shoots across my hood, tumbling to the ground on the opposite side.
I’m on my feet and around the front of the car, weapon drawn and pointed at Willow Raven, rolling to her back. “Hands, Willow,” I yell at her. “Show me your hands.”
She immediately opens both hands, holding them out to me, empty.
“Keep your hands where I can see them and roll onto your stomach.”
She groans but complies. I pull my cuffs, shove my weapon away, and press one knee to her butt cheek as I secure her hands.
“613, female suspect in custody,” I report, then grab Willow’s bicep and lift. “Get your feet under you.”
We’re both breathless, and Willow’s got blood on her face, but it’s her smile that tightens my gut again. “If it isn’t the hottest cop in Wildfire.”
“613,” dispatch says, “10-21 Sergeant Lucero.”
Having my sergeant request a personal call generally means trouble that has to be relayed privately. My mind instantly veers to Chloe and Bodhi and the hundred ways that could have gone wrong.
But just before I shove Willow into my unit, she laughs and says, “Your precious goddaughter isn’t so precious anymore.”
My brain clouds with confusion and my stomach ices over. I zero in on that fourth suspect. I give Willow a hard shake and a venomous “What did you do?”
When she just laughs, I shove her into the back of my unit, then gun it a few streets over to the original address, a marijuana dispensary.
I can’t think of anything but Piper. God, please don’t let it be her. Even if it is, how badly could she be hurt? There was no report of weapons or gunshots. Maybe it’s minor. Maybe my sergeant just wants to talk to me before letting her off the hook.
When I pull up behind the other police units, my headlights sweep across a gurney on its way into the ambulance. I see Piper’s dark hair, her pale skin. I don’t remember getting from the car to her side. She’s bleeding from her neck, soaking piles of gauze. Her eyes are wild, her expression terrified.
“Piper, I’m here.” I move with them as they lift her into the back, bend over her as they prepare to leave, and stroke her hair off her forehead, tears blurring my vision. “You’ll be okay. I’m right behind you. I’ll be at the hospital. I’ll get your mom.”
She opens her mouth, but the paramedic says, “Don’t talk.”
“Not,” she rasps, barely a whisper. “Not Chloe’s fault.”
That hits me sideways. “What?”
“We’re leaving,” the paramedic says. “Out.”
I let it go. She’s probably delirious. “I’m right behind you, Piper.” I jump out of the ambulance and find Sergeant Lucero waiting, but I can’t do anything but stare helplessly as they take off with the closest person I’ve got to a kid of my own.
“Come with me,” Lucero says. “We’ll take my car. Tommy will get your car and Raven to jail.”
I follow him, flinching when the ambulance’s siren kicks on. Lucero takes off after them with matching lights and sirens. I flash back to the night Keith was shot. To me holding his bleeding head in my lap, promising him I’d take care of Piper.
I press my elbow to the window ledge and my head into my hand, trying like hell to hold my shit together. “What the fuck happened?”
“They were breaking into the dispensary. Piper was cut on the broken window.”
I feel my own blood drain from my head like a receding wave. “Her mom—”
“We got ahold of her. She was in Santa Barbara, and she’s on her way, but there’s an accident on 101, and it may take her a while to get here.”
She’s working on a Sunday? is my first thought.
I close my eyes and rub my hand across my mouth, my heart a fiery knot clogging my throat. I have an insane urge to call Chloe. I want her by my side. Only, Piper’s words return. An instant later, the strange earlier call from Chloe fills my head.
I look at Lucero. “Why would she say this isn’t Chloe’s fault?”
“Chloe Hart?”
“Yes.”
Lucero shakes his head. “No idea. Chloe wasn’t involved. They’re bringing the other kids into the ER to get checked out before we book them. We’ll see what they have to say for themselves.”
“Hawthorne,” I tell him. “ Hawthorne’s the weak link.”
At the hospital, I jump from the car before Lucero has fully braked and jog to Piper’s side, hurrying alongside the gurney on the way into the ER through the trauma bay. Doctors meet us at the gurney and issue orders to other personnel. A nurse touches my arm. “Can I get you to give me some basic information?”
I don’t respond. I’ve got hold of Piper’s hand, her fingers icy in mine. She’s barely conscious. “Your mom’s on her way. I’m right here. Fight, Piper. Fight the way you always fight me and your mom.”
Then they push through the trauma bay doors, where I know I’m not allowed. I might have busted in anyway, but the nurse is tugging on my arm.
“She’s in good hands. Now, is she allergic to any medications?”
I shoot answers to the nurse’s rapid-fire questions, probably faster and more accurately than her mom can.
The nurse assures me their best trauma surgeon is on duty when dumb, dumber, and dumbest are dragged through the ER and tossed in separate holding rooms, each with a supervising cop.
I go right to Tommy Croft, who’s standing by Dale’s room. “Did he talk?”
“Couldn’t fucking stop talking,” Tommy says. “I think I need some water. Stand watch for me?”
“Damn right.”
“Back in twenty.”
As soon as Tommy wanders out of the ER, I enter Dale’s room and he looks up. “Hey, man.” He struggles to his feet and moves to the opposite side of the room, back against the wall. “Hey, this wasn’t my idea. I was just along for the ride. We didn’t know Piper’d get hurt.”
I prowl the room, hands on hips, following Dale’s retreat. I keep my teeth clenched to hold the fury—and any legal violations—inside my stupid mouth. But I don’t need to say anything, Dale spills like a broken spigot.
“This was Smith and Willow’s idea. Piper really wanted to be friends with us, you know? So Smith and Willow came up with these things she had to do, like, I don’t know, a test or challenge or something, to prove she was loyal.”
We’ve made one full circle around the room, but Dale keeps moving to put as much distance between us as possible.
“It started small, like cutting class and smoking and passing drugs between us. And tonight was the final challenge, to rob the dispensary. But she fell and broke the window, and that set off the alarm. No one was supposed to get hurt or even get caught. It was just an accident.”
“And you all ran like fucking rats, leaving her to bleed out. You motherfucking cocksucker.” I’m trembling with the restraint required to keep from pummeling him. But I’m still trying to figure out how I missed all this. “When did this start?”
“N-not
too long ago. Willow knew Piper wanted friends for the summer, so they started this maybe a week ago.”
My mind tries to spin backward, looking for signs I missed. But just like her father, Piper’s a good liar. And even after I saw the signs with Keith, I couldn’t keep him safe. Why in the fuck did I think I’d do any better with his daughter?
“Smith and I thought you’d find out for sure,” he says, darting looks between the floor and me as I continue to stalk him in the room. “Your girlfriend caught us cutting school and smoking one day, and I told Smith and Willow we should end it, but Willow was having too much fun, and when you didn’t find out, they thought they were safe.”
Not Chloe’s fault. Piper’s words fill my head, quickly followed by Chloe’s earlier phone call.
My throat closes. Please, please, please, don’t let this be true. I have to push my next words out. “What girlfriend?”
“That blonde one. The one with the killer body who teaches yoga.”
My stomach drops to my feet. “How do you know she saw you?”
“Because she came right up to us in the alley behind the deli and was all like ‘you need to get back to school’ and even offered us all a ride, but the only person who listened was Piper.”
This news guts me.
Someone pounds on the glass to the room. It’s Lucero, glaring at me for talking to Dale without an attorney. I’ve gotten all I can. For now.
“You’d better hope they put you in jail,” I tell him, “or you’ll be answering to me.”
I exit the room just as Tommy comes back and lifts a water bottle. “Thanks for covering.”
Lucero isn’t fooled, nor does he mince words. “She’s going to surgery.”
Ice spreads through my stomach. “How serious is it? What are her chances?”
“It’s serious enough to send her to surgery before her mother is here to okay it. But they don't think she hit any major vessels, and I’m told the surgeon is a miracle worker.” He glances at Dale and back to me. “What’d he have to say?”
“Claims it was some kind of dare. Guess it started recently.” And I didn’t know shit about it.