Tainted Mind (26 page)

She plugged in the computer, popped in a disc, and pulled the table back over the bed. Tucking herself in alongside Ian, she hit play. A darkened intersection popped up on the screen. The image quality wasn't HD, but it was enough to see cars and people. Snow banks lined the streets and pedestrians hurried by wrapped in thick coats and hats.

“I take it this is the one of the street cams near the office party?” Ian asked. “Any identification of people is going to be a bitch,” he added.

Vivi grimaced. “I know, winter gear is good at doing its job, but it sucks for us. Still, we can see what crops up and who knows what kind of cars or vans we'll see.”

“Did you see any vehicles that might fit what we're looking for in the video you watched?”

“Two. I noted the time stamps and Nick is looking into them,” she said.

They watched a few hours of video in a quiet that was occasionally punctuated with commentary by one or the other. They saw three more vehicles that were worth looking into, and Vivi dutifully noted each one, texting the information to Nick as it came up.

But by ten thirty, Ian was waning. And when Vivi found herself checking on him more than the video, she decided to stop for the night. Ian's eyelids had drifted closed and every few minutes the arm he'd wrapped around her would twitch, reliving some memory.

She eased herself from his side and, as quietly as she could, packed up her computer. When she was ready to go, she paused by the bed and took a moment to study this man she'd really just met. The bruises were growing more prominent on his arms and face, but the cuts and scrapes and the gash on his forehead had been cleaned since she'd seen him earlier in the day.

She felt a wave of anxiety wash over her when she allowed her mind to think about how he'd gotten those injuries. But she also realized that anxiety wasn't the strongest emotion she was feeling.

She reached out and brushed a finger across his forehead, then traced his jaw, pausing over his cheek. She'd been overwhelmed by her own fears and memories for most of the day. But now, standing here looking at Ian, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath, she gave thanks that he was okay to whatever god that would listen. Not because she wouldn't have been able to stand yet another loss, which was probably true, but because the world would have lost another good person if anything worse had happened. And the world needed all the good guys it could get.

C
HAPTER
17

VIVI HAULED HERSELF OUT OF HER CAR,
more tired than she'd realized, and made her way to Ian's back patio. She missed Rooster's greetings, which were so much more pleasant than arriving alone at the dark house that seemed to loom in the night in front of her. She let out a little sigh and fumbled with the key. Her imagination was already getting the better of her. Ian's house was a cute, colonial-style bungalow. It didn't “loom” anywhere. Especially not with its white sides glowing in the moonlight and flowers hanging from little baskets, no doubt a gift from his mom.

She entered the quiet house and flicked on the light before shutting and locking the door behind her. How many countless times had she walked into her own dark, empty apartment, or a hotel room, and not felt even a hint of unease? Even when she was working the ugliest of ugly cases.

But pausing in the kitchen, absorbing the silence, she felt it now. The thought of heading into The Tavern and bunking with Naomi crossed her mind. Her cousin would love it. Only Vivi couldn't bring herself to do it, to leave Ian's house—a house that, just two nights before, she'd felt so safe in.

She glanced at the bottle of wine, recorked two nights ago, and thought about knocking back a glass or two and crawling into bed. Then, as a gust of wind came over the hill and rattled the trees, she could no longer deny what her instinct was telling her—now was not the time to be alone. She could ignore it and, chances were, she would be fine. But if she did ignore it, and something happened, she'd have to live with all the what-ifs, and god knew she had enough of those already.

Without leaving the kitchen, Vivi pulled her cell from her purse and dialed Naomi.

“You're up late. I heard about Ian, how is he?” Naomi said when she answered the call.

“He's going to be okay. He has to stay at the hospital tonight. What are you up to?”

“Um, nothing.”

“Naomi.”

She let out a breath. “I persuaded that cute, young Officer Granger to let me make copies of the surveillance videos. I figured I could run them through our facial recognition programs. It's not linked to a database, so it won't pull up data on the people in the video, but it will pull up faces that appear multiple times.”

Vivi wasn't quite sure what to make of this news, or her cousin's third insinuation into the case. She flip-flopped for about five seconds between scolding Naomi and being intrigued by what the program might find before she realized she was too tired to care either way at the moment, so she went for denial.

“Want to come for a sleepover?” Vivi asked.

“At Ian's?” Naomi didn't bother to hide the surprise in her voice.

“Yeah, it's quiet here. No Ian, no dog, no sounds of Boston's North End.”

“You don't want to be alone after the day you've had.”

“And, I don't want to be alone after the day I've had,” Vivi conceded.

“Give me five minutes to pack. I'll be there in fifteen.” Her cousin didn't miss a beat. Vivi smiled.

“You can bring Brian and Travis if you want, they'll either have to share the queen bed in the guest room, or one of them can bunk on the couch.”

“Not that they wouldn't want to, but Brian is already asleep, and I don't know where Travis is. We had dinner together, and he said something about wanting to see the light from some hill or something. So it's just me.”

“Just you is perfect. I'll have a glass of wine waiting.”

Vivi hung up, looking forward to seeing Naomi. Walking through the rest of the house and turning on a few lights here and there made
her feel even better. She poured herself a glass of wine and picked up her cell again, calling Kiera this time. Not only was it good to hear her other cousin's voice and touch base, it was a perfect way to pass the time until Naomi showed up, precisely two minutes early.

“Kiera says hi,” Vivi said, placing her cell on the kitchen counter.

Naomi dumped her bag on the floor and plopped herself down at the kitchen table with a grin. “That's nice. I talked to her today, too. So, we can cut through the chitchat about the baby. Pour me a glass of wine and spill all the details on Deputy Chief of Police MacStudly.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. There are no details,” Vivi said, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“You suck at lying. Always have. Brian and I, on the other hand, are masters. Which also makes us good at spotting lies. So bring that bottle over here and don't even think of sugarcoating anything. He's hot, he looks like he has the goods, and he looks like he likes giving them to you. Now, tell me all about it.”

*   *   *

The morning sun and fog drifted through the tree branches, creating an almost surreal, dreamlike effect. Which wasn't helped by the headache Vivi now sported thanks to Naomi's insistence on not only finishing the bottle of wine already open, but opening a second. They'd talked long into the night about Ian, about life, about work. They hadn't talked like that since Vivi's parents and brother had died. And though she wished they hadn't had so much to drink, Vivi didn't regret calling her cousin over. She did regret that it had taken her so long to reach out to her own family and that she'd only done so because she'd had a sudden case of the heebie-jeebies. But she'd learned her lesson and made a promise to herself to value the family she still had.

With these life thoughts floating in her mind, Vivi pulled her car to the side of the road and killed the engine. Ian stood about forty feet away, his uniform crisp, his wrist in a cast, staring down into a ravine—the expression on his face unreadable. Her heart ached for
him, for the sense of responsibility she knew he felt for the kids involved, for the confusion the accident had brought into his life. And for what she knew he was being forced to accept—that safety wasn't a promise in life, no matter where you lived. He might have left one kind of danger behind him in Afghanistan, but that didn't mean the world couldn't or wouldn't come up with something different to lie at your doorstep.

Climbing from her car, she approached Ian in silence. When she got to his side, she too looked down. The ravine wasn't much of one, more of a steep slope ending in a swollen creek. But it was long enough to allow a car to roll a few times. And seeing the scarred land and brush, Vivi could trace the path Ian's Jeep must have taken when he had flipped over this embankment. Glancing at the creek, she gave a double thank you that he hadn't landed upside down in the water. Even though the seatbelt had saved his life during the roll, if he'd landed upside down in the water, it was high enough that it could have drowned him if he hadn't been able to get his belt unbuckled.

She felt sick to her stomach.

Forcing a deep breath in, she turned to Ian. “When I called this morning, the hospital said you'd checked out. You weren't at the station. I thought you might come here, but how did you get here?”

He glanced up at her, and she saw the shadows in his eyes. “One of the doctors dropped me. I figured I could call someone when I needed a ride back to the station.”

His voice sounded reasonable enough. Too reasonable.

“Tell me about it.”

He didn't speak for a long time, and when he did, his eyes never met hers. He relayed the events, as he remembered them, leading up to the accident.

“I was driving, sirens on, to the call out on Hancock Road. Carly and Marcus were behind me by about a half a mile. I came around this corner,” his left hand came up to trace his route, “and as I was about here,” he pointed to a spot, “my front right tire blew. My Jeep swerved into the other lane, and when I saw the oncoming car, maybe I overcorrected, I don't know, but I ended up down there.” He turned and looked back down toward the creek. Vivi looked at him.

“And the kids?”

“That tree there.” Ian's answer and accompanying gesture were instant. Vivi eyed the tree and could see faint scarring along the bark. She studied the road and imagined Ian driving fast to make it to the call. Between the tightness of the curve and the additional speed, it was no wonder his car shot outward when the tire blew. And there were enough rocks at the edge of the ravine that, if his tires hit them with enough speed as he was skidding from the blowout, they could cause the Jeep to tip and flip.

But something in his face, in the way his jaw ticked, told her he wasn't reliving the accident. His mind was somewhere else, somewhere worse.

“Ian?” Vivi put a hand on his shoulder, then let it fall down his arm until she twined her fingers in his. He looked up and into her eyes, and the memory of him—of that moment when the thunder had ripped across the sky and he'd pressed her up against the tree, protecting her body with his—came to mind. That moment when she'd caught a fleeting glimpse of his fears. And his shame.

“Ian.”

His expression shuttered and he turned away. Pulling his hand from hers, he walked the few steps to the edge of the ravine and looked down again.

“Your hair is down today,” he said.

A car passed them, interrupting the quiet of the morning, and she debated whether to let the issue slide. She didn't want to. But where would it get her? Here in this public place with Ian already feeling exposed, she doubted any conversation about what he was thinking, or more to the point, what he was feeling, would go anywhere good. But she couldn't leave it. She had to try to take some of the pain away. But maybe the best way to do that, in this moment, was to let him have his space. She hoped.

“Chris and your sister came by this morning,” she said. “I wasn't quite ready to leave yet and hadn't pulled my hair back. He told me I looked pretty, like a princess, and that I should leave it down. He's a hard kid to disappoint.” Vivi couldn't help but smile remembering her conversation with the little boy. Thankfully, her smile was contagious and she saw the hint of one touching Ian's lips.

“He's a boy with good taste,” he said, walking toward her.

“Maybe it runs in the family.”

“It definitely runs in the family.” Ian wrapped his good hand in her hair, tilted her head up, and covered her mouth with his. The kiss ended in laughter when a car full of kids drove by hollering, “Go MacAllister!” to cheer Ian on.

Still smiling, Vivi pulled back and rested her cheek against his chest. He held her there, his lips brushing the top of her head.

When the honking stopped and the sound of the car faded, she looked up. She wasn't going to let him ride this out alone. But for now, they had a job to do. They'd talk later.

“I've always loved a man in uniform. Want a ride?” she offered with a mock-lascivious look.

“If you ask me, I think you prefer me out of uniform.”

“Ian!” she smacked him playfully on the chest, though the gesture had no real effort in it since she couldn't argue. He let out a bark of laughter and pulled her tighter into his arms, his cast pressing into her back.

“Maybe I should leave you out here. I bet I can convince your team to let you walk.”

“Nah, well, maybe,” he conceded then sighed. “I hate to say it, but we do have a couple of murders to solve.”

She answered with a sigh of her own. “Yes, yes we do.”

*   *   *

Ian walked into the station with Vivienne, on the phone with Daniel, right behind him. Sharon looked up, an expression of concern flitted across her face, then stayed.

“Are you sure you should be in today?” the receptionist asked.

He lifted a shoulder. “Don't have much of a choice. What's the update?”

“Marcus, Carly, and Nick are upstairs. Wyatt is out with Teddy, cleaning up a car accident out on 203,” Sharon said, referring to one of their part-time officers.

“Vic's going to have a fit when he sees the bill for the part-timers,” Ian muttered.