Stitched Up Heart (Combat Hearts Book 1) (32 page)

The corner of her mouth quirked. “I was surprised you didn’t explore that more than you did.”

Bree turned her head to her right, following his pointed glance at her lawyer, who was allowing the conversation to flow. She looked back at the detective. “No lawyer in the world would have stopped you from arresting me if you thought I was guilty.”

He smirked. “Maybe. The letters left with the victims are…nice.”

“They’re creepy. I’d rather they said, ‘Die, bitch, die.’ At least then I’d know what the hell this person wanted from me.”

“They’re almost like love notes,” he said.

“Like the flowers.” Bree looked at the table, her gaze unfocused.

Detective Johnson leaned forward again. “What flowers?”

She blinked a few times. “I got flowers the other day. Jase said he didn’t send them. I forgot to call the florist to see if they could tell me who they were from.”

“They were delivered by the florist? Not left by the door?” He picked up his pen again, taking more notes.

“Yes. The one on Main Street. Uh…Love in Bloom, I think?”

“Detective,” Mr. Dell said. “Bree has plans to go out of town this weekend. Do you have any more questions?”

He finished writing. “Not right now. We’re hoping the latest victim will be able to tell us more when she regains consciousness. Let me know if you receive any more deliveries or gifts.” He handed her a business card. “My cell is on the back, if you need to reach me for anything.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” she said. They shook hands, and Mr. Dell ushered her out of the conference room.

Jase paced in the hall. As soon as she cleared the door, he grasped her face between his hands and searched her eyes. His thumbs traced the edges of her brow. “We’re good?”

She wrapped her hands around his wrists. “Yeah.”

He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. She reassured him with a kiss, leaning up into him and tightening her grip. Pulling away, she ran a thumb along his cheekbone, tracing the line of his beard. “We’re good.”

He smiled at her and released his grasp on her face. They turned as a door opened down the hall. Chad stepped out with the other detective. He glanced down the hall toward them. His skin was pallid and his eyes were red, making the bags under them more prominent. His dirty blonde hair stood up on end like he had been running his hands through it. It was the first time she’d seen him look so unkempt. He broke eye contact and walked toward the entrance.

Bree squeezed Jase’s hand and gave him a small smile. “Let’s go camping.”

“I
’m worried about her,” Jase squatted down next to Denise. He watched Bree laugh at something Chris said. The tightness around her eyes and stiffness in her shoulders belied her carefree response.

Denise set the last tent peg in the ground and stood. “She’s good.”

Jase rose from his squat. “Why’d you guys leave the dogs at the rescue?”

“There’s too much going on out here for them.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ve brought them hiking before. But with so many people, and since we’re staying out here a couple of nights, it was better to leave them at the kennel.”

“What if she needs Polly while she’s out here?”

“Polly helps Bree because she senses her moods. She touches her to provide her comfort. To bring her back to the moment.”

“Okay. And?” What was she getting at?

She raised her eyebrows and gave him a small smile. “Jase, you do the same thing.”

“What?”

“Jeez. You’re telling me you’re worried about her? That’s sensing her mood. You touch her all the time. Bree is a touchy-feely kind of person. She leans into your touch and takes comfort from it.”

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing.”

She smirked. “That’s probably not why you were touching her, but that’s what she takes from it. Most of the time, anyway.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Thanks.”

“She’s family.” She shrugged. “But I’ll still feed you to my dogs if you fuck up again.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I figured.” She turned and looked back at the group of people. “So is there a plan or are we just going to sit around and drink all weekend?”

“Just tonight. Probably tomorrow.”

“So, all weekend then?”

He grinned. “Yeah, pretty much. There’s fishing and hiking tomorrow, if people want.”

“Cool. Let’s get to it then.”

They joined the group standing off to the side of the small fire burning in a good size circle of stones.

“Denise, this is Paul Coleman. We call him Cole.” He pointed to each guy in turn. “Jordan Grant. You know Chris. Matt Baldwin. Patrick Shaw. Guys, this is Denise Reynolds.”

“Why
Cole
for you, but everyone else goes by their first names?” Denise asked.

“We had six Pauls in our unit. It was either that, or number us,” Cole explained in his thick Texan drawl.

Jase pulled Bree close to his side and lay his hand on her hip as they talked with Patrick and Matt. She leaned her weight against him and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. He smiled. Denise was right.

He used every opportunity to touch Bree. The small of her back. Holding her hand. Every time she smiled at him. Returned his touch in some way. He never realized the power of something so small. Not to arouse lust or slack desire, but to reassure and comfort.

“We doin’ a beer hunt?” Matt rolled the bottle in his hand, sloshing the little bit of liquid in the bottom.

“We’re hunting bear?” Bree asked.

“Bear’s not in season for another five months.” Denise said over her shoulder.

“Wow,” Paul said. “I’m impressed you know that.”

“I still go out with my dad every year.”

“In any case, he said beer, not bear,” Patrick said.

“What’s a beer hunt?” Denise asked. “And why are we hunting beer instead of drinking it?”

“It’s a friendly competition we do when we come out,” Jase said. “We stage beer at designated points and record the coordinates. Divide into two-man teams. Try to find as many of the locations as possible.”

“What’s the winner get?” Bree asked. Her hand rubbed in a small arc across the middle of his back. He wasn’t even sure she knew she was doing it.

“Lots of beer,” Chris said.

“What’s the loser get?” Denise asked.

Chris grinned. “Less beer.”

“Did you set out the beer?” Denise asked.

“I did. Wasn’t sure you girls were going to be up for it, so I brought extra in the truck,” Chris said.

“I hear a challenge.” Denise faced Bree, hands on her hips. “Did you hear a challenge?”

Bree dropped her arm from his back and stood up straight. “I did, in fact, hear a challenge.”

“Y’all think you can beat us?” Cole asked.

Bree and Denise shared a look. A twinge pulled deep in Jase’s chest. He and Tony used to do that — know what the other was thinking with just a look. Fondness rode behind the ache instead of the guilt that usually followed. He kissed the top of Bree’s head. Without her, he may never have gotten to this point. The pain might never go away, but maybe that was okay.

He jerked at Denise’s loud clap. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s do this. What are the rules?”

“Chris, you got everything in your truck?” Jase asked.

“Yeah. Give me a sec.” He set off in a jog to the edge of the clearing where everyone’s cars were parked.

“Each team gets a map, a compass, and a list of coordinates.” Jase handed out the maps, lists, and V.E.T. Adventures backpacks to carry the beer in. “You get an hour to find as many points and beer as you can.”

Bree pulled her hair back in a ponytail. “What happens to the beer that isn’t found?”

“We get it tomorrow.” Matt shrugged. “There are usually a few bottles left out there.”

“Cool. Let me get my hat,” Bree said to Denise. She came back from their tent, her hair pulled through a faded blue ball cap.

“You sure you don’t want to join up with a couple of the guys?” Chris asked.

If looks could kill, he would have keeled over instantly from the glare Bree and Denise shot him. Jase chuckled. This was going to be interesting. He wasn’t sure Chris or the other guys knew about their CST experience.
They’re going to hand the guys their asses.

Denise folded her arms across her chest, her stance a challenge on its own. “I’ll bet you ten bucks we come back with more beer than the guys.”

Chris matched her stance and smirked at her. “I’ll take that bet.”

Jase looked at Bree, who tried to hide her smile, without success. She shook her head slightly and pursed her lips, clearly used to this side of Denise.

“Yo! We doin’ this or what?” Cole asked.

Chris and Denise continued their staredown for several more seconds. “Ten minutes to plot your points,” Chris said, never breaking eye contact.

Denise grinned and threw him a saucy wink before she pivoted and joined Bree, already marking the map.

“You and Denise have something going on?” Jase asked him in a low voice.

“Just having a little fun,” Chris said.

“You know she’s got an industrial meat grinder, right?”

Chris stared at him a moment.

“Mind out of the gutter, ass. She grinds her own meat for dog food.”

A slow grin spread across his friend’s face. “Yeah. Not what I was picturing at all.”

“Asshole.” Jase shook his head.

“Ready,” Patrick said.

“Ready,” Jordan said.

“Ladies?” Cole asked.

“What?” Bree asked, distracted from her whispered conversation with Denise. “Oh. Yeah. We’re ready.”

Jase checked his watch. “Okay. I’ve got sixteen-oh-four. I’ll give you ’till seventeen-oh-five.”

“Aww, man. That’s so generous, that extra minute,” Cole said.

“Ready?” Jase asked.

“Wait,” Bree said. “Are the locations marked with anything?”

“Orange tape,” Chris said.

Bree nodded and leaned close to Denise to whisper something.

“Go!” Chris called.

“Bree.” Jase flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. “Be careful.”

She winked and tweaked the brim of her hat like she was Humphrey Bogart in a fedora. She jogged after Denise, and they headed off into the woods.

“Fuck.” Jordan stopped cold in his tracks, staring slack-jawed as Bree jogged after Denise.

What the fuck?
Jase looked at Jordan’s ashen face.

“Jordan. You comin’?” Patrick called out as he hurried off.

“What was that about?” Chris asked.

“I have no idea,” said Jase.

“You know the girls headed off in the wrong direction, right?”

Jase grinned and clapped Chris on the back. “Don’t count your ten bucks just yet.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re heading to the last point first.”

“What?” Chris looked in the direction the girls had taken.

“Think about it. We usually run out of time before we hit all the points. If we do get to the last point, we’re dragging on the way back. Hit the last point first and work back. Better chance of hitting all the points, and shorter distance to run back.”

“Son of a—”

“Smarter, not harder.”

“I think I got played,” Chris grumbled.

Jase threw his head back and laughed.

The girls came back with six more beers than either of the other teams.

“I still say Chris gave them an advantage.” Patrick set a foil pan full of burgers and dogs on the large picnic table.

Chris dropped another pan full of foil-wrapped potatoes next to the meat. “Dude. I lost ten bucks.”

Denise laughed. “If it makes you feel better, sure. We had an advantage.”

Patrick pointed the tongs at Denise, then Bree. “I knew it. What was it? Jase plot the route? Put more beer at the points?”

Bree smirked and shook her head. “We used our superior intellect.”

A chorus of groans rang out.

Matt picked up a plate and dug into the bag of hamburger buns. “I’ve got to go with Patrick on this one. The Army didn’t issue you smarts, so you don’t get to use ‘em.”

“Good thing Bree was Air Force, then.” Denise took a sip of her beer. “Ahhh. Refreshing.”

“Don’t be mean.” Bree picked up her beer. “Their fragile egos are already bruised from getting their asses handed to them by women.”