Complicated Matters (7 page)

   “Ah, no.” She propped her elbow against her knee. “Why are you asking?” 

   “Just making conversation,” he said to himself more than her. “Why not?” He grinned, as he watched her nervous reaction. “There’s plenty of privacy back here.”

   “How should I know?” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Maybe this isn’t his thing.”

   “Take it easy.” He closed his eyes enjoying the vision that came to mind. “I’m just saying this place could be rather romantic under the right circumstances.” He opened his eyes and looked at what sky he could see from under the shade of the tree. “A full moon and a star-filled sky. Perhaps a little campfire, and a picnic on a blanket.”

   Farrah got up. “With mosquitoes buzzing all around.” 

   “I was visualizing fireflies.”

   “Visualize whatever you want, but the mosquitoes will still be there biting all exposed flesh.” She untied the horses. “It’s time to go.” 

   Despite Taylor’s objections, Farrah grabbed his reins and turned the leisurely ride into a near gallop.

   Taylor nearly fell off his horse as they returned to the farm. “What was that all about?” He stumbled getting off.

   She stripped the horses of their gear. “I just thought you had something better to do.” 

   Taylor dusted himself off. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

   She handed him a saddle. “The tack room’s over there. Put the saddle on an empty sawhorse.”

   Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Tack room?”

   “Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s what we call the place where the riding gear is stored.” 

  
This girl has a way of making a man feel like a complete idiot.
“He put the saddle away and helped her with the rest of the gear. “Thanks for the riding lesson. I better go.”

   “Sheriff Taylor, please wait.”

   He heard footsteps advancing at a fast rate. 

   Her hand touched his forearm tingling his skin. He turned to face her. “Is there another area in which you would like to prove your superiority, Miss Mathews?”

   “Ouch, that was harsh.” Farrah winced. Her expression softened to a smile. “But I guess I kinda deserve it.” She lowered her head and stirred the dirt with the toe of her shoe.  “I  wanted to tell you I’m sorry for the tone in my voice.”

   “Apology accepted.”

   *

   Taylor drove along the back roads questioning everyone he could find. So far, no one had seen a thing.

   He went back to Jones and Edwards. “Has DOT been here yet?”

   “They put up some warning signs, but say it’s gonna be two more days before they can get to the bridge.” Edwards informed him. “This road ain’t exactly high priority.” 

  
Dammit. One way in and one way out.
“Okay, you guys go home and get some rest. I’ll get somebody else out here tonight.”

   “Have a good one, Sheriff.” The two deputies wasted no time leaving the mosquito-infested area.

   He pressed the button on his tactical mic. “Hey, boss lady. Is everything quiet?”

   “So far. Did you find that poacher?”

   “No.” He thought about Farrah Mathews being out there all alone. “The bridge is still out, so let’s keep high visibility in this area.”

   “You got it. I’m sending someone out there right now.”

   Taylor could hear the dispatcher calling for Deputy Winthrop and his partner to cruise the area.
Winthrop seems to be a good man. She should be okay while I get some rest
. “I’ll be home if you need me.”

   “We’ll do, Sheriff.”

   Taylor had been up for more than twenty-four hours. His eyes were heavy and his mind was hazy. He barely had the strength to take his shower. A shot of Jack, a kiss to Lianna’s picture, and he was on his journey to the past.

   He dreamed he was back in Little Havana. He couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old. His family was walking along the
Calle Ocho
Trail, attending
Ciernes
Culturales
. Cultural Fridays was the one thing on which his mother had always insisted. The lively music coming from the street bands put even his Irish father in a good mood.

   He struggled to keep up with is older brother, Rafael. The smell of the many types of food wafted through the air, and filled his senses. Crowds of people gathered around the various vendors. Taylor became confused among the colors and conversations. His heart began to race. “Raf!” He pushed his way through the crowd. Too many people. Too much noise. It was useless. In frustration, he sat down on the sidewalk.

   “There you are, little bro.” Raf stood over him smiling and holding something in his hand.

   Taylor jumped up and hugged his brother around the waist. A single tear ran down his dirty, little face. “I thought you were gone for good.”

   “Never, man. We’re brothers. I have something for us.” Rafael held up a pendant with two chains attached to it. Two fists touched each other, the word
Brother
was under them. Rafael pulled them apart, “You get to the keep the B R O part, and I’ll keep the T H E R. We can’t be kept apart. We’re brothers.”

   Taylor hugged his older brother. “Promise?”

   He woke up with the feeling that something was missing. He checked to see if his locket and pendant were still there.

   It all seemed so real; the sights, sounds, and smells. He could feel the heat and humidity. Sweat covered his face and neck.

   He got up, washed his face, and dressed in his civies--faded jeans and a black Metallica t-shirt. Sheriff Taylor wasn’t on the schedule, but Special Agent Taylor still had to keep an eye on the Mathews family. It was time to talk to Flo.

   “How’s my favorite dispatcher?” Taylor set a can if Diet Mountain Dew on Flo’s desk.

   “Surprised you’re that observant.” She took a swallow from the can. “What can I do for you?”

   “I was hoping to have a little one-on-one in my office.”

   “Just as soon as my relief shows up.”

   Taylor sat down behind his desk and looked over the deputies’ work records. He noticed that Daniels hired both Edwards and Jones.

Flo stepped into his office and shut the door behind her. “You wanted to speak to me?”

   “How am I supposed to keep an eye on the Mathews family when I’m off duty and have no reason to go out there? I just can’t keep dropping by.”

   Flo dropped into one of the big brown leather chairs stationed in front of Taylor’s desk. “How’s your social life?”

   Taylor coughed, surprised by her forwardness. “M-My what?”

   Flo crossed her arms and smiled at him. “We both know this county is black and white. A Latino is sure to have some social issues.”

   “You want me to ask her out?”

   Flo crossed her legs. “What’s wrong with that?” 

   “What’s wrong with that? Where do I start?” He stared at his desk. “Let me see.” He started counting on his fingers. First, she has a boyfriend. Second, I am bound by a code of conduct that says I can’t have any personal involvement with the subject of an investigation. Third, said illegal personal involvement is sure to backfire. Fourth, she’s only eighteen and I would feel dirty.”

   Flo fired back at him and started counting on her own fingers. First, said boyfriend is on his way to Tallahassee, where he will spend the rest of the summer training with the Seminoles baseball team. Second, you are protecting her, not investigating her. Third, I don’t really see her falling for someone she sees as a temporary fixture around here. And fourth, eighteen is not a kid.”

   There was a long period of silence, before Flo continued. She placed a gentle hand on Taylor’s arm. 

   Her dark-brown hand felt rough against his skin. 

   “I know you’re trying to be professional about this. I also know if you screw this up, your boss in Miami is going to bust you down to meter maid. Take her to Hank’s Joint. Keep it friendly, and get her home early. Make it sound as if she’s doing you a favor. Afterwards, you can go back to your spying from the shadows routine.”

   Taylor touched his badge. Being a cop wasn’t just his lively hood, it was who he was. “Are you sure this isn’t an ethics violation?” 

   Flo grinned. “Not even and infraction.”

   Chapter 9

   Despite the nagging feeling that this was going to come back to haunt him, Taylor took Flo’s advice and drove to the Mathews’ farm. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit it wasn’t because of his job. He wanted to see Farrah Mathews again. Perhaps it was because he had been alone for so long. Maybe it was because she was so beautiful and didn’t seem to know it. He loved how tall she was. She had to be at least six feet tall. It could have been because of her inner strength. Whatever the reason, he drove a little faster than necessary.

   He pulled into her driveway blowing the horn on his Camarro. “Hello! Is anybody home?”

   The family dog came running from the barn barking and growling with Farrah close behind. Leather work-gloves covered her hands. “That’s enough, Champ.” She carried a crowbar in one hand and a hammer in the other. “Sheriff Taylor?” She wiped sweat from her forehead. “What are you doing here?”

   He stepped out of his car. “I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me. Someone told me about this place called Hank’s Joint. Do you know it?”

   Farrah dropped her tools and removed her gloves. “It’s a local nightspot. I’ve heard it’s a lot of fun.”

   He leaned against the hood of his car. “I take it that you’ve never been there.” 

   She drew her eyebrows closer together. “No one under eighteen is allowed in.” 

   “I thought you were eighteen.” His heart nearly stopped at the thought of asking out someone not considered an adult.

   “I am,” she answered.

   Relief washed over him. “What stopped you from going after your birthday?” He folded his arms and stared at the ground. There was barely five years between them. Yet, he felt dirty for having this conversation with her. He felt like he was betraying Lianna.   

   “Sherriff.” She took a step forward. “Are you asking me out?” 

   Her voice sounded musical. Her smile belonged on the cover of magazines. Taylor jerked his head up. “No.”  

   “Ookayy.” She took a step back. “Don’t get offensive.”

   Taylor’s mouth dropped open. He was quick to cover it with his hand. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

   She stared into his eyes.

   He thought he saw a spark of humor. A wicked sense of humor. It looked good on her.

   “How did you mean it?” 

  
She thinks I’m a freaking geek.
“Let’s face it. A guy like me doesn’t--” 

   He felt heat covering his ears as he stared at the ground. “Well, I’m not that good at socializing, and I thought since--”

  
That’s not right either. I should’ve practiced before driving out here.
Taylor took a deep breath. “It’s like this. I’m about as popular as a third-grader with head lice.”

  
That was stupid.
He moved his head forward. “Since you’re the only one in the county who will actually speak to me, I thought maybe you will show a little mercy and rescue me from the displeasure of my own company.” Embarrassment made him hot under his collar. He was sure his face was crimson.

   Farrah hesitated.

   Taylor became more nervous. He wiped perspiration off his top lip. Upset with himself for acting so stupid, he felt like some school boy about to get turned down by the prom queen. He was a grown man for Christ’s sake. He should’ve shown her some style.

   “Sounds harmless enough.”

   “Really?” He grabbed his car door in an effort to steady himself from the shock.
Maybe she likes geeks.

   “Yeah, I’ll be ready in a flash.” She ran into the house. Twenty minutes later, she reappeared, wearing a white tank-top, blue jeans and a pair of western boots. In her hand, she carried a denim jacket.

   Taylor swallowed hard.
Damn, where’s this girl been hiding?
A gold chair drew his eyes to her neck and collar bone. His mouth watered as he visualized kissing her there.

   “Is everything okay, Sheriff?” Her hoop earrings shook on either side of her head, as she put on her jacket. 

   “Yeah.” Taylor held open the car door for her. “I was just thinking about something.”

   *

   In a town like Morgansville, a local spot can be a good thirty minutes away giving plenty of time for conversation. Farrah changed Taylor’s radio station from metal to blue grass. “So what did you do, go down your list of contacts until someone agreed to accompany you?” 

   “Actually, I’m an undercover FDLE special agent, assigned to protect you.” Not wanting to lie to her again, he tried to make the statement sound like a joke as he turned off her idea of music.