Starks' Reality (20 page)

Then she tightened her legs to move forward on him.

Jake groaned.

Heather leaned back, held his shoulders, and rocked back and forth. Jake’s eyes sparkled as he watched her. His breathing became audible, interspersed with groans as she quickened the pace.

He gripped her thighs and took over, moving her to his need, growing inside of her. His mouth opened, then his head went back and his eyes closed. The waves of tortured pleasure washed over him as he pushed up into her, stopped, and pushed again. He opened his eyes and held her gaze. He continued to move her forward and back, groaning quietly, until the need passed.

Heather kissed his mouth. He returned her kiss tenderly, lovingly,
and wrapped her in his arms again.

They sat together in the night without speaking, alone on the sand as if they were the only two people on Earth.

Clouds thickened in front of the moon, casting the beach into darkness, and then raced away.

“Am I dreaming this?” he whispered.

She leaned back and touched his cheek as she kissed his lips.

He returned her kiss. T
hen he reached around, pulled her braid over her shoulder, and ran his fingers down the length of it, brushing her sensitized skin with the back of his hand. “We should go before Coop starts to worry,” he said.

She nodded.

Separating herself from Jake proved agonizing. She felt empty and lonely as she thought about spending the night without him. It wouldn’t be fair to make him share the sofa again, and she wasn’t in a hurry to discuss the matter with her father, either. No, she’d have to spend the night alone. The thought put a damper on her joy as she looked around for her pants.

Before she could retrieve her clothes, Jake scooped her up. She squealed with surprise,
and wrapped her arms around him. “What are you doing?”

“
Washing the sand off,” he said, as he carried her into the cold, dark waves.

When the water reached his waist, he released her and let her slide slowly down his body. His tight muscles rippled against her.

A wave buffeted them, nearly knocking them over. Cold water stole her breath and made them both laugh as they stepped apart. They took turns splashing water on each other. Moonlight reflecting off his wet skin made Jake look like a mythical creature—her own personal god, rising from the sea.

When he caught her staring at him, he shoved her shoulder to throw her off balance and charged for the shore. “Last one in does the dishes tomorrow,” he yelled, over his shoulder. She leapt over the waves and caught up to him before he reached land.

They dressed quickly, dancing around to warm up. Then they held hands and walked to Jake’s house. He unlocked the door quietly and followed her in.

They both stopped at the sofa, surprised to find Coop stretched out there, snoring.

“I guess you get your bed back,” Heather whispered.

“Good thing,” he whispered. “That sofa was getting crowded, and I’m not sleeping without you.”

Heather turned her head to hide her smile.

~~**~~**~~

Waking with Heather in his arms made it difficult to get out of bed. Her warm, firm body fit perfectly into his, and she made soft noises when he nuzzled the back of her neck. If he’d had someone to call in sick to, Jake would have played hooky.

Being the boss had its drawbacks.

Coop seemed preoccupied during their brief conversation over coffee. By the time Jake left the house, Heather had taken a seat across the table from her father, obviously puzzled by his mood. Jake squeezed her arm when he rose to leave. He’d call her later, just to make sure he wasn’t the source of the problem.

T
he office was busy. Well, as busy as it got in Port Boyer. Helen frowned with the phone receiver pressed to her ear and rolled her eyes when Jake looked at her questioningly, Red stood at the coffee pot filling his cup, and Kenny, who wasn’t supposed to be on duty, sat at his desk, typing.

“Kenny?”

The young man looked up. “Sir?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m typing up my report on Mr. Davies.”

“What happened to Mr. Davies?”

Kenny pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I picked him up for drunk and disorderly. He was trying to cut down Miss Lillian’s pecan tree at five this morning.”

“Miss Lillian?”

“His neighbor to the east.”

“Oh. He’s in the back?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jake nodded. “Good work.”

“Mornin’, Chief,” Red said.

“Good morning, Red. Come on in and have a seat.”

The officer followed Jake into his office and sat in the guest chair.

“Any word on the fire?” Red asked.

“Yep. Looks like arson.”

“Oh, shit, that’s all this town needs.”

“What?”

“A firebug.”

Jake nodded. “If that’s what it is.”

“What else could it be? I doubt Coop is over-insured.” Red sipped his coffee loudly.

Jake leaned back in his chair. “How was your weekend?”

“Quiet,” Red said, “until the fire, of course.”

“No other calls?”

“Nope.”

The man was good. He showed no signs of nervousness—no need to carry on useless conversation.

“Good.” Jake leaned forward and pulled a pen from his desk. “Oh, and take the boat in today, will you? I’d like to have it in working order.”

“Will do, Chief.” Red stood and hiked up his pants. “Then I’ll start rounds. Yell if you need anything.”

Jake nodded.

“Chief?” Helen entered in Red’s wake.

“Yes?”

“Can you get some things to the Coopers?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’ve had calls from people who want to donate clothes and stuff.”

Living in a small town did have some benefits
. “Tell them they can drop the donations off here, and I’ll deliver them.”

Helen nodded and scurried away. She must have
had someone waiting on the phone.

Because it was a small town
, anyone who really wanted to find Heather and Coop could. Jake didn’t intend to hide the fact that they were staying with him, but he didn’t want to advertise it, either.

At eleven-thirty, he logged off his computer and dialed Tucker, who answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It’s me, Jake.”

“I could have guessed that.”

“What are you doing for lunch?”

“I don’t know, having company?” His voice carried a smile.

“If you’re not busy.”

“Hell no, I’m not busy. Come on over.”

Jake drove around the edge of the bay, watching clouds build and thinki
ng about days long ago. Tucker had pulled him out of a few tight places, and covered his ass like no one else could. Dave Tucker was the only person in the world Jake trusted without question. He had to admit, he appreciated being close enough to drop in when he needed someone to talk to.

Tucker waited on the front porch. “Hope you don’t mind peanut butter and jelly. Lydia’s out for the afternoon.”

Jake slammed the car door and took the steps two at a time. He followed Tucker into the kitchen.

“Stir that,” Tucker said, pointing at a boiling pot of chicken soup from a can.

Jake did as ordered, and then poured the soup into waiting bowls.

Tucker had modified the kitchen to fit his needs. He worked on a lowered section of counter,
slathering jelly on peanut-buttered bread. When he was done, he placed the sandwiches on a plate in his lap and led the way to the dining room.

Jake added bowls of soup to the table and sat. “Looks good,” he said.

“Whoa.” Tucker glared at him. “When did you start lying to me?”

Jake shrugged. “It looks filling.”

They ate first, and then sat back to talk.

“What’s going on?” Tucker asked.

“I wish I knew. You heard about the fire?”

“Yeah. Did they lose the house?”

“Yep.”

“Damn,” Tucker said, quietly. “Where are they staying?”

“With me.”

Tucker raised one eyebrow. “That’s convenient.”

“Bite me.”

“In your dreams.”

Jake shook his head.

“So,” Tucker said, “how did the fire start? Smoking in bed?”

“It was arson.”

“Shit. You have someone in mind?”

“I’m trying to figure out who would have done it. Whoever it was probably knew Coop was there. I think they were either trying to kill him, or send him a warning.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know.” Jake sighed. “I’m beginning to believe that Tran’s killer thinks Coop saw him.”

“That’s certainly a possibility. But who
killed Tran?”

“I don’t know that, either.”

Tucker leaned forward. “You suspect someone.”

“N
ot exactly. There’s just some strange things going on that don’t add up.”

“Like?”

“You remember I asked you about Radisson’s boat?”

Tucker nodded.

“Well, he has two boats in his boat house.”

“I won’t ask how you know that.”

Jake ignored the comment. “The small boat was at the dock in Port Boyer the night before Tran was killed.”

“Y
eah?”

“A battery was stolen from a truck near the dock, and I found that battery in
Radisson’s boat.”

“You think there’s a tie in there somewhere?”

“What if Tran ran into someone other than oyster smugglers? What if he wandered into the middle of a drug deal?”

“
He would have wound up dead.”

“Yep.”

“But, what does that have to do with Radisson?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think he’s involved. Maybe he’s the drug link. Maybe he brings the drugs inland and passes them on.”

“How the hell are you going to prove that?”

Jake shook his hea
d again. “I don’t know. I’ll have to catch him in the act.”

“That would be interesting.”

“Yeah.” Interesting wasn’t the word he would have chosen.

“What else?”

“Huh?” Jake looked over at his friend.

“Something else is bugging you. What?”

“Well, I saw Red Daily at Radisson’s, and he wasn’t there for police business.”

Tucker leaned back again and let out a low whistle. “That would explain why the sheriff hasn’t been able to bust the ring.”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, you better watch your back. I wish I was there to watch it for you.”

“I wish you were, too. If I wasn’t such a jackass, you’d still be—”

“Cut the crap, Ace. We’re not going through that again.”

Jake frowned at his former partner. Why the hell didn’t the man blame him for the shooting? They both knew it was his fault.

“Look,” Tucker said, “I have a few nice pieces sitting around. What do you have now?”

“I have my thirty-eight and a twenty-five semi-auto.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn
, that’s no good. I’ve got a Glock forty-five that’s all yours. The magazine holds thirteen, and it’s light as a feather. It’s a beautiful firearm.”

“Tucker, I don’t really need—”

“Bullshit. You
need
this weapon.”

Tucker wheeled away and returned in a few minutes with the Glock zipped up in a soft case, which he handed to Jake. “Take it out for
a few practice rounds.” He produced a box of shells. “You won’t want to give it back.”

Jake nodded. “Thanks.”

He left Tucker before the man could load him down with more weapons. There were only so many Jake could carry at one time, and three was his limit.

Somehow, he felt better after giving voice to his thoughts. Tucker hadn’t laughed at any of it, so it must not sound too absurd. Tucker was right, though; it wasn’t going to be easy to prove unless he caught
Radisson in the act.

Back at the office, he had a message to call Sagin. Jake closed his office door and dialed the number.

“Sheriff’s office. Deputy Sagin.”

“Sagin,” Jake said, “this is Starks. You called?”

“I have news from the lab. They found biota on the burlap sack that’s consistent with human waste. It’s not much of a stretch to assume the contaminated oysters were in the sack.”

At least
one thing was going right. “That corroborates my witness’s story.”

“I’m working on a warrant for the
Johnson brothers. As soon as I can serve it, I’ll give you a call. It should be ready in a couple hours.”