Jarod's Heart (King Brothers Stories #2) (3 page)

But what embarrassed her most was that her white silk blouse was plastered to her body, wet and transparent, as if she were entering herself in a wet t-shirt contest. Thank goodness she’d worn the white lacy camisole underneath her blouse or she could’ve been cited for indecent exposure.

And, of course it’d be her luck that Jarod would be the first person to see her in all this miserable glory. She didn’t know who was worse; him or Marguerite.

Okay, that
’
s unfair. No one
’
s as bad as Marguerite.

Her slim shoulders drooped in defeat. It didn’t matter what they were fighting about, she would always love Jarod King. She’d fallen hard and fast the day she’d first laid eyes on him and no matter what they were fighting about, her heart would always belong to him.

Whether he knew it or not.

At first, it’d been just a school girl crush on the older bad boy. Back then, he wore his brown wavy hair a bit longer than the crew cut he sported for his job now. But his eyes were the same sapphire blue that changed with his moods. Since his divorce, his eyes ranged from sapphire gems to blue fire in an instant. He was harder than he used to be but her feelings for him had never gone away and, in fact, had only grown over the years.

Lauren and her best friend, Julie, had been freshmen when they’d met and become best friends with Josh King, Jarod’s youngest brother. All three were as close today as they were back then. And now Julie was marrying Jason, the third King brother.

And now Lauren was about to embark on a new adventure with the Kings. Jarod’s mother, Camille, had offered her a partnership in a new business venture that also included Julie. They would be coordinating and catering charitable events in their community. They hadn’t finalized the business details yet but she was excited to start a new adventure and a new career.

She would miss seeing Jarod everyday but leaving her position with the sheriff’s office would be a relief. Seeing people at the lowest points in their lives, even some folks she’d known since she was a child, was mentally and emotionally draining. It was killing her soul little by little. When you add in the normal office backstabbing and gossip that came with any job she was just done. If she had to spend one more moment with Marguerite she thought that her head might pop.

Marguerite was the stereotypical bossy, ambitious Queen Bee. She’d been captain of the cheer squad and homecoming queen. She had graduated in the same class as Lauren and Julie, who had always been on the fringe of the popular crowd. To Lauren’s dismay, Marguerite had been hired on at the department not long after Lauren had been promoted to current position as administrative assistant to the Sheriff. It had been a living hell ever since.

She was a notorious flirt and Lauren suspected that something was going on between Marguerite and Deputy Brad Anderson, as well. It wouldn’t be so bad if Marguerite wasn’t so obnoxious. In Lauren’s opinion, Brad could do a whole lot better.

Brad was around the same age as Jarod but he’d been with the department a few years longer. When Jarod joined the department, Brad had taken him under his wing, so to speak. And then Brad had shocked everyone when he passed up the opportunity to run for sheriff. He’d claimed that it wouldn’t suit him and thought the community could do better with someone like Jarod. Both Brad and the old sheriff had endorsed Jarod for the position. With no other candidate on the ballot, Jarod became the youngest sheriff to be elected in Timbisha County.

Lauren thought it odd that Brad would pass up such an opportunity, but he remained a good deputy, backing up Jarod when he needed it while giving him enough space to be a great leader. She would have to check but it was possible that Brad held the record for most drug arrests in the department.

She looked at herself in the mirror and allowed herself to pout for a second. There was nothing more she could do to tidy herself up. It was going to be snowing later anyway so she brushed out her long, blonde hair and pulled it into a neat ponytail. Her shirt was damp but no longer as transparent as it had been when she’d first walked through the door. She wiped the rest of her make-up off and reapplied her lip gloss.

It
’
ll have to do.

She took a fortifying breath and walked out of the ladies room to face what was left of the day.

Pulling out her desk chair to sit, she noticed Marguerite smirking at her from the reception counter. Of course, she was perfectly put together from head to toe, not a hair out of place or make-up smudge to be seen, the hag.

Lauren calmly sat down, logged onto her computer and began her work. There were people waiting at the counter, so Marguerite turned on the professional mien and addressed their needs. That was the only compliment she could offer to the dominatrix; she was professional to the point of sickening. Unfortunately, there was nothing in Marguerite’s professional record that would lead Jarod to let her go, much to Lauren’s dismay.

“Lauren! Are you okay?”

Deputy Eli Wallace wore a sincere expression and looked genuinely concerned. He was new to the department, the county finally having the funds to hire an extra deputy to handle the rising crime in Timbisha County. Methamphetamine was the number one culprit, which led to petty theft and property damage, along with the ruin of lives and families.

“Yeah, I’m good, Eli. I just got caught with a flat tire this morning. How are you?”

He frowned at her. “Why didn’t you report it? One of us could have helped you. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that by yourself.”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone. I’m sure I wasn’t the only person having trouble this morning. Besides, I know how to change a flat,” she said with a smile to erase her dismissive attitude. Ever the gentleman, she could see he was about to argue with her so she quickly deflected him. “How’s Caroline doing? She’s getting pretty close to her due date, isn’t she?”

That was all it took to redirect the conversation away from herself. Eli and his wife were expecting their first child soon and he was a very excited daddy-to-be.

At around one o’clock, Lauren grabbed her lunch from the fridge in the breakroom and took it back to her desk. She liked to spend her lunch time alone to catch up on her work. Normally, she used her lunch hour to run errands, but because of the flat she needed to catch up on her work.

The sack was still soggy from this morning’s downpour. Being careful not to make a mess on her desk, she gently pulled the contents of a small sandwich and yogurt from the bag. She’d desperately needed water after swallowing Jarod’s idea of coffee, so she’d rinsed out the sludge from her Have A Nice Day/birdie mug and refilled it with water to rehydrate herself. The bitter concoction had been so strong that she was afraid she would have to stop at the store on her way home to pick up a new razor, just so she could shave off the hair that was now growing on her chest.

Men.

As she settled in for her lunch, she noticed Marguerite still staring daggers. Making eye contact with her, Lauren lifted her mug in salute before deliberately taking a swig.

Marguerite narrowed her eyes just as the phones began to ring while Lauren chuckled.

W
e received another call to the Decatur house. Brad is en route now. Something about an explosion.”

Marguerite stood in Jarod’s doorway, leaning on one hip, one arm outstretched above her head. She looked as if she were relieving pain from a bad case of scoliosis.

“Good grief, there’s always something going on out there,” Jarod said. “Tell Brad I’ll meet him at the scene.” He needed to get out of the office anyway. “What’s his ETA?”

Marguerite shrugged delicately and shook her overstyled, crispy blonde curls. “Not sure,” she husked.

It was all he could do not to roll his eyes.

“I’ll radio him from the cruiser,” he muttered as he shouldered past her.

He approached Lauren’s desk, shaking off the creepy crawlies from Marguerite’s aggressive attempt at sex appeal.

Lauren was concentrating on her computer screen and didn’t see him standing there. She still wasn’t speaking to him, except when absolutely necessary. So, without warning, he launched into his agenda. “I’m heading out to the Decatur house again,” he announced, making her jump and causing her to frantically reach for her mug, which she had bumped and almost knocked over onto her keyboard.

Damn it. He hadn’t meant to startle her so badly, but it was hard to hide his automatic chuckle.

Recovering gracefully, she acknowledged him without saying a word. He stared at her for a moment, wishing she’d get over her pout. It was easier talking to Lauren than Marguerite while at work. Lauren was strictly professional and got the job done. He didn’t have to put up with any female nonsense from her unless they were off the clock. Then it was a whole different story. Her smart mouth and sassy attitude usually drove him crazy, but this silent treatment was far worse.

“Have juvenile services on standby; there could be minors involved…again,” he added disgustedly.

“Of course,” she said, surprising him. She crinkled her forehead, as if she were going to say something else, but at the last minute she must have changed her mind. She nodded again and turned back to her computer, dismissing him entirely.

Normally, he’d shrug her temper off, but this silence had gone on for over a month, which was a record for her. He would have to do something about it because it was beginning to piss him off. He needed their easy rapport at work. His job was hard enough without having to walk on eggshells around his secretary, and he certainly didn’t need the added attentions of Marguerite. Lauren usually buffered his receptionist’s attentions.

Frustrated that he would have to put their situation on hold, he slammed out of the building and into the parking lot. Right now, he had to get out to a possible child-endangerment situation, the type he hated most. Normally, he and Lauren would talk through a case because she had a unique perspective.

Being in law enforcement fulfilled his natural instinct to protect those who needed it. Cases that involved the most innocent—children—were the hardest on him because he didn’t understand that kind of criminal mindset or abuse.

The temperature was too warm for the snow level to drop, but the rain was still coming down in sheets. He jogged quickly to the cruiser and started the engine, turning the heater on full blast. While he waited for the vehicle to warm up, he picked up the radio and hailed Brad.

“What’s your ETA to the Decaturs’?”

“Five minutes out.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Jarod, I’ve got this. There’s no need for both of us to be out in this mess.”

“See you in twenty.”

Jarod put the handheld mic back in its cradle on the dash and backed out of his parking space.

The Decatur homestead was a dilapidated old farm house located in a rural part of Timbisha County, on the other side of the valley from the small town of Timbisha. Avery Decatur was the youngest son of the family, and the only one who’d stayed on the old family homestead. Jarod had put Avery in cuffs many times over the years, usually for drunk and disorderly conduct or disturbing the peace. Avery wasn’t exactly the ambitious type, and neither was his girlfriend, Luanne. They often shared a holding cell together.

Over the past few months, Jarod and his deputies had been called out to the farmhouse, either by Luanne or their guests, when fights had broken out and gotten out of control. As inept as Avery was, it wouldn’t be surprising if he were to blow up his barbecue or some other nonsense.

There were probably twenty vehicles crowding the dirt driveway when Jarod arrived. Smoke billowed from an outbuilding behind the house, and a foul, chemical stench was emanating from whatever had been inside it. The fire department had already put out the flames.

“What happened?” Jarod asked as he walked up to Brad and a battered and handcuffed Avery, who were standing on the crumbling front porch steps.

“Cookin’ meth is what happened,” Brad seethed.

“You’re kidding. Anyone hurt?” Jarod asked as the other emergency vehicles pulled into the driveway.

“They’re all too out of it to be hurt, but I called for an ambulance anyway,” Brad said, shaking his head in contempt.