Anything but Mine (6 page)

Lips parted, Renee stared. “Stan, you had a vasectomy.”

“You know, that topic’s been covered several times in the last day or so.”

Her expression troubled, she ran a finger around the rim of her tea glass. “I thought the two of you were kaput.”

He cleared his throat. “We were, but we’re going to give it another try.”

Renee’s frown deepened. “For the baby’s sake, of course.”

The disapproval in her voice bothered him. “It’s the right thing to do, Renee. I want us to try. This baby deserves that much, doesn’t it?”

“What about what Autry deserves?”

“I’m going to try to be what she needs.” The frustration crowded his chest again. He had no clue what that was. Even this morning, in the hallway, he’d known she needed something from him, but damn if he could figure it out. “I won’t…I won’t be the way I was with you.”

Renee lifted her arched brows, her eyes cool. “You mean an emotionally unavailable ass?”

Even if he wasn’t in love with her anymore, the words still hurt, despite the truth in them. He hadn’t been an involved husband. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Her gaze softened with concern. “Stanton, you’re my friend and I love you. On some level, I always will, but for a smart man, sometimes you are the most clueless individual. Do you know when I knew our marriage was over?”

“About the time you packed my bags for me?” He tried to keep the lingering bitterness from his voice.

She fixed him with a look. “When I realized I knew more about Tick’s goals than yours. Your partner had more genuine conversations with me than you did.” A sad smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “It’s very hard to be in love with a man who’s never really there, even when he’s sleeping beside you.”

He glanced away. “Renee, I—”

“Stan, I’m glad you found Autry, really I am. I like her. I want you to be happy.” She covered his hand, fingers cool on his wrist. “But if you want this to work with her, it’s got to be about more than the baby. You’ve got to find out who the guy inside is—the one you’ve been hiding from for years—and let her see him.”

The waitress brought their plates. Stanton stared at his turkey club, his appetite gone. All he wanted to do was make things right with Autry—to keep her and their baby safe, to be there for them.

And it wasn’t enough.

“Well, at least I have you thinking.” Renee crunched into a carrot stick.

If she only knew. Hell, he didn’t know where to start. He picked up his sandwich and forced himself to bite into it.

Renee leaned forward. “What do you want, Stan? I mean, when you think about making a life with Autry, what do you really,
really
want?”

A memory flashed, June, that weekend before they’d arrested Schaefer. Waking in the middle of the night in Autry’s bed, the warmth of her pressed along him, her hand over his heart. Sleepy and sated, he’d pulled her closer, suffused with an emotion so strong and pure he never wanted to let her go.

That was in the dark. In the light of morning, that connection, the level of feeling had scared him. He knew from experience he wasn’t capable of sustaining that kind of emotion. With Renee, he’d felt it in snatches, but it had always subsided once he returned to duty with the bureau, in the chase again, his mind and energy focused on some pocket of organized crime.

He wanted to be the guy who felt that for Autry all the time, who inspired the same sentiment in her.

That guy just plain wasn’t him. He didn’t have it in him. Hadn’t he already proved that?

“Stan?”

He glanced up and met Renee’s concerned gaze. “I don’t know.”

“Then don’t you think you’d better figure it out?”

He smiled, shrugged again, and made a desperate attempt to change the subject. “What about you and Don? You two set a date yet?”

The remainder of their lunch passed with light conversation about Renee’s engagement and John Logan’s misadventures as a learning driver. When Stanton returned to the department, Renee’s question—what he really,
really
wanted—continued rolling over in his mind.

Inside, he stopped at the front desk and picked up his messages. While he flipped through them, the door swung open, admitting a gust of fall breeze. The pink message slips he’d laid on the desk fluttered away and he made a grab for them.

“Stanton?” The trembling nervousness in Autry’s voice sent prickles over his skin.

He spun, the messages forgotten. Autry’s pale face, her big eyes, the same expression he’d seen the night of the break in—all of it kicked his heart into overdrive.

With a step forward, he took her hands. “What happened? Are you okay? The—”

She clutched at him and shook her head, her chest moving with her uneven breathing. “I’m fine. I just…I got another one.”

“Another note.”

She nodded. “It was under my windshield wiper when I walked out of the courthouse.”

“Okay.” He smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, not caring that all activity around the front desk and in the hall had stopped, that the front desk secretary and two deputies watched every move he made. “Come on in the office.”

He ushered her through, his hand at the small of her back. Inside, he grabbed an evidence bag and a pair of gloves. “Got it with you?”

“Yes.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of lined notepaper. Her expression as she passed it to him was apologetic. “I know I probably shouldn’t have touched it, should have called you to meet me, but I just wanted out of there.”

“It’s okay.” Flashing her a reassuring smile, he took the note with a gloved hand. She was beginning to calm down, some of the tension relaxing from her posture. “I want to have Tick go by and dust your car for prints, canvas the area to see if anyone saw anything. You can take the Explorer.”

“Thanks.” A half-hearted smile played around her lips, and she placed a hand over her stomach.

He unfolded the paper and slid it inside the clear evidence bag. The same blocky handwriting. Four simple words.

He can’t stop me.

Fury flared in him, but he kept his face devoid of expression when he met her eyes. “I need to know everything. Where you’ve been today, what time you arrived at the courthouse, who you spoke to, what time you found this.”

She fidgeted with her jacket hem. “I had a nine o’clock meeting with a client at the Thomas County jail. I left there a little after ten. Dropped by the office, picked up my briefs. I arrived at the courthouse around eleven-thirty. The hearing was over at twelve-fifteen and I went straight to my car. Once I found the note, I came here.”

He pulled his gaze from the note and slanted her an inquiring look. “You walked?”

Her small laugh was self-deprecating as she sank into the chair before his desk. “It was only a block and I was afraid to get in the car. Lord, I’m getting paranoid.”

“No, you’re not. You did the right thing. Only next time,
call me
.”

“Please don’t say next time, Stan. I don’t want there to be a next time.” She lifted her eyes to his, the blue dark with fear. “You have to find him and make it go away. If you don’t, I swear I’ll go crazy.”

“We’ll find him.” He dropped the plastic-encased note on his desk and crossed to kneel before her. She blinked rapidly and he gripped the chair arms, the clean scent of cotton blossoms wrapping around him. “We’ll get him, Autry, I promise. Tick’s already running down leads, and I’m going out with him later. I’ll make this go away, baby. I swear.”

“I believe you.” She curved a hand along his jaw, and every nerve in his body tingled.

What did he really,
really
want? For this moment to never end. For them to remain locked in this bubble of isolation, for his failures and the stalker and Jeff Schaefer to just not exist. For it to be simply him and Autry, going on and on and on.

Everything he thought he couldn’t have. If only he could figure out how to be what she needed…

With a rough breath, he took her wrist, turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. Her fingers flexed against his face, a brief caress. He didn’t want to break the connection, but he pushed to his feet and moved to put the expanse of his desk between them. “I need to call Tick.”

Hand pressed to her thudding heart, Autry watched him pick up the phone and dial. His deep voice washed over her and her heartbeat calmed. In his steady presence, the fear faded. If she could only trust him with her heart as easily as she could her physical safety.

“Thanks. I’ll be here.” He replaced the receiver and looked at her. “He’s going to dust the car. I’d like to have it towed over to Lawson Automotive, have them check it out, just in case.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Do you have any other appointments today?” He detached his keys from his belt.

“No, only going back to the office for the rest of the day.”

“If we picked up your laptop and files, could you work from here?”

She shrugged. “I guess. Why?”

He leaned against his desk, playing with the keys. “Your office is isolated. The backstairs offer a concealed way in and out. I’d rather not have you alone over there right now. I’d just feel better if you were here.”

It made sense, but frustration slammed through her. “God, I hate this. He’s taking over my life.”

“I know this is hard,” he said, voice soft, his gaze steady on hers. “But I don’t want to take any chances.”

His very real worry raised her fear again. “You think he really wants to hurt me, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Very few stalkers actually escalate to violence, but one is too many. We’ll go get your stuff. I’m going to take off with Tick and you can have the office to yourself.” A crooked grin curved his mouth. “How much safer can you be than right here?”

Safer maybe, but a prisoner all the same. Everything seemed to be spiraling out of her control. Her eyes burned. “Why is this happening? Damn it, Stan, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Nothing.” He pulled her up and into his arms, hands stroking her back in soothing sweeps. “You didn’t do anything, baby. I mean it, Autry. This is not your fault.”

“I just want it to go away.” She turned her face into his throat, his warm scent filling her senses. A hint of returning stubble rasped against her skin and he kissed her cheek.

The door opened. “Hey, you ready to go…” Tick’s voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry. Should have knocked.”

Stanton released her. “Why start now?”

Autry wiped at her eyes and turned to face Tick. She shaped her trembling lips into a smile. “Hey, Tick.”

“Hey.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, a cold anger glinting in them as he glanced at Stanton. “Stan tells me congratulations are in order.”

Beneath her lashes, she studied Stanton. He remained expressionless. Lord, he was so guarded. She sighed. “Thanks, but can you keep that quiet? I haven’t told my parents yet.”

“No problem.” He shrugged. “I’ve got prints off the car, but ten to one says they turn out to all be elimination prints. Keith Lawson picked it up and he’ll call you once they’ve checked it out.”

Stanton nodded. “Good deal. Autry’s going to work from here this afternoon. Let me take her over to get her things and we’ll run out on those interviews.”

“Can you give me an hour first?” The line of Tick’s shoulders was tight. “I never made it to lunch. Had to go back up Troy Lee on a traffic stop.”

“Yeah.” Stanton’s mouth went taut.

Autry watched the tense nonverbal interplay between the two. Something was up there, something big enough to strain their easygoing friendship.

Tick held Stanton’s gaze a moment longer then shrugged. “I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Sure.” Stanton turned, dismissal in the movement. “Autry, let’s go get your stuff.”

Frowning, she looked after Tick as he stalked through the squad room. “He’s tense.”

“Pissed off at me.” With a gentle nudge, Stanton ushered her from the office.

“May I ask why?”

“Hell if I know.” He held the side door for her, the brisk autumn breeze flirting with her hair. “He’s been that way since—”

He snapped his mouth shut on the words. She sighed, sure he’d been about to invoke Caitlin’s name. Wanting to lighten his suddenly dark demeanor, she tucked her hand through his elbow and tilted her head toward the side street.

“Come on and stop worrying. He’ll get over it.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

They walked to her office, in one of the historic, slightly dilapidated buildings facing the courthouse. He stepped back to let her precede him, his gaze tracking over the street and the sparse traffic.

“Sheriff Reed!” The local newspaper editor’s voice boomed from the corner.

Behind her at the foot of the steep, too-dark stairwell leading to her office, Stanton groaned. Two steps above him, Autry turned as Ray Lewis puffed up to them. “Glad I caught you, Sheriff. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions about that string of burglaries in the north end of the county.”

“Tick could probably answer those better than I could—”