Fall Into Me (19 page)

Troy Lee checked off the boxes at the bottom of the ticket for the road conditions: dry pavement, highway. First he was an asshole, now he was a liar. Really, all he needed was Calvert to appear, so he could go for the Triple Crown and be a fuck-up too.

Bubba turned his attention to Cookie. “Do you know what’s going on here?”

“Radar is locked in at eighty-one.” Cookie appeared completely unruffled. He cocked an eyebrow at Troy Lee. “Did you calibrate it?”

“Yes, sir. Log’s on the front seat.”

“Camera’s on?”

“Yes, sir.”

Cookie nodded. “Bubba, let’s walk back and take a look.”

Bubba slanted a look at his son. “Come on.”

At Troy Lee’s car, Cookie checked his calibration log, showed it and the locked radar to Bubba, whose face tightened with each second. Settling in the driver’s seat, Cookie ran the digital recorder back, playing the video from the moment Troy Lee locked his radar on Paul’s truck. For once, Troy Lee was damn glad Calvert had been so hard on him—he’d learned to rein in his emotions, keep them off his face and under control, all of that showing as Paul refused to hand over his license and insurance paperwork.

Bubba turned a slow, glacially cold glower on his son. “Give him your license and insurance card. Now.”

“But, Daddy—”

“Goddammit, I said now.”

His mouth set in a taut line, Paul passed the items over to Troy Lee. He completed the license check and filled out the remainder of the ticket while waiting for Deb to come back with the license and insurance status. Once that was done, he extended the ticket book for Paul’s signature, jotted a number three in the upper right-hand corner and tore the yellow copy free for the kid.

Bubba narrowed his eyes at his son. “Go home. We’ll talk later.”

With a sizzling glare at Troy Lee, Paul stalked to his truck and pulled onto the highway. Bubba ran a hand over his balding head. “I’m sorry about this. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately.” He pointed at Troy Lee. “He won’t give you any more trouble.”

With a brief goodbye, he glanced for oncoming traffic and jogged to his truck, pulling off in the opposite direction. Troy Lee stared, made sure his mouth was closed, then shook his head on a rueful laugh. “Did I just see what I think I did? Did he let the kid drive home?”

“Damn sure did.” Cookie tucked his thumbs in his belt. “If I ever have a kid…”

He let the commentary trail away, but the icy reality showered over Troy Lee. Hell, Cookie might very well be having a kid and not know it. The sheer magnitude of what he was helping keep from Cookie tried to steal his breath. Troy Lee rubbed a hand over his nape and tossed his ticket book on the passenger seat. Except he wasn’t helping to keep it a secret, not really. It wasn’t his place to tell.

He still didn’t know for sure what his place was.

“Thanks for backing me up.” He glanced at his watch. “Now you’re going to be late.”

“Anytime. Tori will understand. I hope.” Cookie pulled his keys from the ring at his belt and tossed them in the air a couple of times, watching them with a contemplative expression. “I think you did the right thing, calling me.”

“Yeah, me too.” He was pretty sure Bubba’s attitude might have been different if Cookie hadn’t been present. Paul’s taunt about his father gunning for Troy Lee’s badge echoed. In his experience, kids didn’t just come up with that kind of stuff on their own. Although it galled him that he hadn’t been able to make Paul comply without intervention, he’d also figured out early on that cops who tried to do everything solo usually ended up in trouble, one way or another.

And trouble was one thing he was trying his best to avoid.

“Hey, Mama.” She brushed a kiss over her mother’s cheek and waved at her sister, who was involved in applying foil highlights to one of her regulars. “Just thought I’d drop by and see you on the way to work.”

Mama made a fake smirk and winked at Miranda in the mirror. “Feels guilty because she’s too wrapped up in her new young man to come see her mama like she’s supposed to.”

“Oh, Mama, you know better.” She sank into the shampoo chair and picked up a discarded magazine. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy cozying up with Troy Lee Farr,” Hope teased, painting another section of hair.

Oh, way to start a rumor, Hope
. Angel glared the silent statement at her sister.

“Are you feeling better?” Hope closed a piece of foil about the section and started on another.

“I am.” It wasn’t a lie. She’d discovered that her mama’s universal stomach remedy, weak tea, did help, especially if she drank it along with a breakfast of dry toast. As long as she didn’t let her stomach get empty during the day, she could keep the queasiness at bay.

Hope fixed her with a critical eye. “Your roots are showing a little. You have time for me to touch them up?”

“Um, not this afternoon.” Angel made a show of checking her watch. Was she even supposed to have her hair colored while she was pregnant? She’d have to call Dr. Padgett’s office.

“Maybe Saturday, then.” Hope slanted a pointed look in her direction. “Unless you have plans.”

“I don’t.” If Hope was closer, Angel would pull the ends of her hair in retaliation, the way she’d done when they’d been really little. “Yet.”

Miranda made a small, sad sound of reminiscence. “Marie, they sound like Madeline and Autry when they were girls.”

“How is Autry?” Mama skillfully diverted the subject, holding one hank of Miranda’s hair aloft to check the length. “When is her baby due again?”

“March. Everything seems to be going well.” A proud smile touched Miranda’s mouth. “It’s another little girl.”

“Well, I know you’re thrilled.” Mama’s wistful sigh hung in the air a moment like a fading daydream. “I miss having a little one around. You know, my granddaughters are fifteen and sixteen now.”

“That’s right.” Miranda let Mama tilt her chin down slightly. “Hope’s eldest was born right before Del’s twins were, and they just turned sixteen.”

Angel’s mama laughed. “Do you remember how beside herself Lenora was over those babies?”

“She’s the same way over each new one. I tell you, she’s so excited now that Tick’s baby boy is home from the hospital, she can’t stand it.”

“I’m sure. I can understand. I was that way when Hope brought Jordan and Brittany home.”

Her heart squeezing, Angel pretended to be engrossed in her magazine. Her parents loved their granddaughters, and she had no doubt they’d adore her baby, once the initial surprise and dismay wore off. Darn it, here was another minefield. She couldn’t very well inform her family yet, until she dealt with Jim and Cookie. Her mama would start calling friends and family, and then the news would be all over town. She couldn’t let it get back to either man that way.

She was going to have to tell them. Waiting wasn’t an option any longer. So she’d tell them and let them deal with the fallout, just as she had—dead on.

“Marie, did you hear about Sue Tyre?”

Angel glanced up at Miranda’s mention of Jim’s mother.

“Well, I know she had a fall, but I haven’t heard anything else.” Mama executed a couple of neat snips near Miranda’s nape. “You know we haven’t been talking very much lately, considering.”

Angel rolled her eyes at Mama’s coy façade. Her mother and Jim’s had not talked much, ever. They’d tolerated one another for Angel’s and Jim’s sakes.

“Well, it’s a broken hip and she’s in the hospital. They’re worried about complications from her diabetes. I hear Jim’s been staying at the hospital with her every night.”

Mama made a tsking sound and kept trimming. Angel laid the magazine aside. Well, maybe she wouldn’t be telling Jim anytime soon, not while his adored mother was sick. Maybe she’d start with Cookie, ask him to keep it quiet until she could inform Jim as well.

Male voices, low and intent, drifted into the hallway from the squad room. Troy Lee stepped through the door to find Calvert and Chris bent over the counter, reviewing what looked like a copy of the department schedule. Chris looked up briefly with a two-fingered salute of greeting.

Tired and glad Calvert seemed too engrossed to notice him, Troy Lee returned the gesture, settled at an empty desk and started on his end-of-shift paperwork.

“I’m just not sure how many days we have to cover.” Frustration roughened Calvert’s voice. “I’d move Steve over there, but he’s going out of town.”

“Vann’s working a double the day before and the day after, to cover Steve’s time off.”

“Yeah.”

Troy Lee didn’t look up from his report. “What day do you need covered?”

“Friday, seven to three, and Saturday, three to eleven,” Chris replied, distracted.

Troy Lee shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

Calvert frowned. “Yeah, but that’s eight days in a row for you and you’re already working Christmas.”

“I can handle it.” He laid his pen aside. “Who are you trying to cover?”

“Cookie.” Calvert scratched through a note on the schedule and made another.

Troy Lee frowned at the odd, tight quality to Calvert’s voice. “Something wrong?”

Calvert and Chris exchanged a quick look, followed by Calvert’s almost imperceptible nod. Chris cleared his throat. “Some skeletal remains were discovered over in Echols County, and the GBI thinks it may be his wife.”

Troy Lee felt his jaw drop. “He’s married?”

“Was married.” Calvert fed the corrected schedule through the copier.

Cookie had a wife? A wife he’d never mentioned, who might be a set of skeletal remains. What the hell? Troy Lee rapped his pen on the desk. “What happened?”

“They married young. She was pregnant, and she disappeared at a town festival in Florida a few months before their baby was due. The case went cold.”

F-uck. Troy Lee focused his attention on the recap, although the words didn’t register. His brain stuttered its way through Calvert’s revelation. So not only was Cookie married, but he’d spent years not knowing where she was, what had happened to her. Dealing with his dad’s death had been hard enough. He couldn’t imagine the not-knowing, the constant uncertain hell of living a cold missing-person case. Cookie walked around with that every day. “Damn. So he lost a wife and a baby.”

“Yeah.” Calvert removed the old schedule from the smaller bulletin board next to the officer mailboxes and pinned up the new copy. “If it’s her, he’ll need a few days.”

“I bet.” Signing off on his recap, Troy Lee ran the requisite copies and filed them.

Calvert paused in the act of pouring a cup of coffee to glance sideways at him. “Cookie’s been riding with you, right?”

Unease slid under his skin. “Yeah, part of our shared shifts. Why?”

With a negligent shrug, Calvert slid the carafe back into the coffeemaker. “You want me to ride along in his place while he’s out?”

Hell
,
no
. Troy Lee swallowed hard, sudden anxiety kicking his heartburn up to nausea level. “Up to you.”

“I may.” On a quiet laugh, Calvert lifted his mug to his mouth. “I’m rusty after the past few weeks. Being your ride-along should get me back in practice.”

Rusty at what? Giving him hell?

He’ll come around to you, but you have to give him a chance.
Cookie’s calm advice, and at least Cookie had never steered him in the wrong direction. Troy Lee dragged a hand across his nape, chafing the skin there. He forced himself to meet Calvert’s gaze. “Sounds good.”

What looked like it might be a genuine grin quirked at Calvert’s mouth. “Great. We can start with the first couple of hours of your shift tomorrow.”

Troy Lee dug in his shirt pocket for the remainder of his last roll of antacids. Yeah, this was going to be just
great
.

“Hug me.”

Laughing at the mock desperation in Troy Lee’s voice, Angel turned to find him leaning on the end of the bar. “What?”

He held his arms wide, faded Gin Blossoms T-shirt riding up to give her a glimpse of his lean, muscled stomach. “Just hug me.”

How was a girl supposed to resist that?

She went into his arms, wrapping her own about his waist and squeezing. With a muffled groan, he hugged her, rocking her side to side for a moment. Palpable tension vibrated out of him with a quiet exhale, leaving him more relaxed in her embrace. She smiled against his chest, sure they probably had the attention of every patron in the bar and really not caring.

“What’s this all about?”

“I can’t just want a hug?” Her hair muffled his voice.

“You always want a hug. You’re needy that way.” Under her cheek, his muted laughter rumbled. She pulled back enough to look up at him. “But this feels different. You feel…stressed.”

“That’s one way to put it.” He released her with a reluctant sigh. “I get to ride around in a patrol car with Tick Calvert tomorrow.”

“Why is that a problem?” She glanced at him over her shoulder as she moved away to grab a beer for one of her regulars. “He’s a nice guy.”

“A nice guy? I don’t think we’re talking about the same person. The one I know hates me.”

“Stop pouting. I really doubt he hates you.”

“I’m telling you, I breathe his air. Me and him in a car together is not going to be a good thing.”

“Give it a chance.” Coming back to his end of the bar, she tiptoed up to brush her mouth over his. “And if it doesn’t go well, I’ll kiss you and make it better.”

“Promise?” His mouth hitched in a lazy smile.

“Promise.” She set a Corona before him and watched the way his hands moved while he inserted a lime into the neck. A tiny frisson of desire trickled over her. She loved his hands, loved the suppleness of his callused fingers, the way he touched her, made her feel sheltered and feminine and unique. Darn it, she missed having him touch her that way. She lifted her gaze to his. “Come home with me tonight.”

He choked, sputtering. “What?”

“Unless you don’t want to.” She smoothed her palms down her thighs then lifted a shoulder in an uncertain shrug. “My blood tests came back clean, but I…I can understand if you don’t want me that way right now, since it’s not your baby.”

With his mouth slightly open, he stared at her until she shifted. Why didn’t he say anything?

Finally, a small puff of sound that might have been a laugh escaped him. “Not want you?”

“It’s a logical conclusion, Troy Lee.”

“No hell, it’s not.” He laughed again and shook his head. “Of course I want you. You said we should slow down, that you needed time, and I figured I’d give you some space.”

Relief sent champagne bubbles fizzing through her. “Kind of stupid, huh, both of us assuming what the other was thinking?”

“Definitely stupid.” He leaned forward, his gaze on hers. “I definitely want to go home with you tonight.”

“Good. I can’t wait.”

The last hour before closing time lagged. While she waited on the handful of regulars hanging out on this weeknight, Troy Lee sat on the edge of the bare stage, strumming out a song or two, his voice a steady seduction. Once her girls were gone and she’d locked the door behind everyone, she crossed to sit in the chair closest to him, listening while he meandered through familiar lyrics about being alone together with all the time in the world for loving.

His voice trailed away, the music dying also as he ceased strumming. Angel rubbed damp palms over her knees. “Troy Lee? I’m going to tell them, as soon as possible. I need to be able to tell my family, and I can’t do that, not until they know. I can’t tell Jim just yet; his mama’s in the hospital, but I can start with Cookie…”

Something about his expression stopped her, stirred uneasiness to life. He cleared his throat and laid the guitar aside. “About Cookie.”

“Yes?”

“There was a body, a skeleton, found over in Echols County today, and the GBI thinks it was his wife.”

“What?” Shock grabbed her throat and she swallowed. “What are you talking about?”

“He was married a long time ago and she went missing. They think these remains over by Statenville might be her.”

“Oh, my God.” She passed a hand over her mouth. All those years, all those conversations, and she’d never even suspected… “I didn’t know he’d been married.”

“I don’t think a lot of people did.” His mouth firmed a moment. “Angel, she was pregnant when she disappeared.”

The shock whooshed from her in a small, muffled sound. Pregnant? Cookie was facing a dual loss, wife and child. Like she could turn his life upside down now. Sweet Lord, what he must be feeling.

“That’s terrible.” Sympathy tightened her chest. “How horrible for him.”