Circle Eight Millennium: Lazarus (5 page)

“No. I was lost in thought.” He wasn’t about to admit he was fantasizing about her lips and the rest of her.

“Hmph. I doubt that you were lost at all.” She reached for the binder. “Can I see your notes?”

He almost said no, but the entire point of this was to get her perspective on the crimes. Not to ogle her.

“Sure.” He pushed the binder across the scarred wooden table top toward her.

“One thing occurred to me.” She pulled the binder to her breasts.

Jesus please us. He was relieved when the waitress brought their coffee and breakfast. Laz had a moment to collect himself as he sipped at the surprisingly delicious coffee.

“Told you the Mad Hatter was good.” She waggled her eyebrows. “It’s my favorite brew and they only brew it on Tuesdays and Fridays.”

She took a slurp from her own oversized cup and Laz’s attention went back to her mouth. He looked away and watched a dog meander down the street instead. She made a few noises as she enjoyed the drink. He resisted the urge to stare at her like he wanted to. Laz wasn’t a weak man, not by a long shot, but Bea reminded him that he was indeed a man. One with needs and desires. He also had self-control, something he needed to exercise.

Laz shifted on his chair as he sipped at his own coffee. The low hum of conversation, the screech of the espresso machine, and the whir of the milk frother echoed through the small café. He breathed in and out, finding his iron self-control that he’d cultivated the last ten years.

He remembered what she’d said before their breakfast arrived. “What did you mean, one thought occurred to you?”

Her eyes widened behind the glasses. She swallowed the bite of the cinnamon bun she’d been chewing. “Oh, right.” A dab of sugar rested at the corner of her mouth and he had the foolish urge to lick it off. “The other four businesses that were hit. None of them are the kind to have a lot of cash or merchandise that can be sold.”

He nodded. “That had occurred to me, but then you got hit. You told me yourself, you have a couple hundred thousand in inventory.”

“Yes, but that’s all in the safe at night. They didn’t even try to break into it. It’s old, but it’s damn sturdy. Whoever they are, they weren’t after a big score.” She licked at the sugar and it disappeared into the warm recesses of her mouth.

Laz stifled the groan but he couldn’t stop the twitch in his pants. “No, they couldn’t have gotten more than ten thousand total from all the businesses.”

“Maybe the others were practice?” She sipped at the cup, her expression thoughtful.

“Practice for what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She opened the binder on her lap and browsed his notes. Her eyebrows scrunched together as she read. It was damn charming and it bothered him that he noticed.

They consumed their breakfast in silence, each seemingly lost in thought. Laz tried to focus on all the details he’d collected, but there was too much to bring it all to mind at once.

“I think we should take this and spread out the information. I had a professor who once told me, don’t always focus on the drop, sometimes you need to focus on the bucket.” She wagged the fork at him. “A broader view.”

“What are you suggesting?” He swallowed the last of his coffee.

“We get two cups to go and go back to the shop. I’ve got room on my walls and extra with the plywood on the windows. We put the information up and see if we can solve the puzzle.” Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her eyes sparkled.

Damn, she was beautiful. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been such an asshole to her. He wouldn’t blame her a bit if she kicked him out on his ass after she’d satisfied her curiosity.

“I’m up for that.” He got to his feet. “Two Mad Hatters to go?”

“With a shot of caramel in mine.” She grinned and turned her attention back to the binder.

Laz ordered the coffee and waited while the girl behind the counter rang up the purchase. She eyed him with open interest.

“Are you a Graham?” The girl couldn’t be more than eighteen, fresh faced and blonde, not to mention thin as a rail.

“I am.” He handed her cash.

“I thought so. You kind of look like Samuel.” She blushed, as though speaking his cousin’s name aloud was cause for embarrassment. Perhaps it was; Sam was a year older than him, and at least ten years older than this little slip of a thing.

Laz didn’t respond to her comment because there wasn’t anything to say. He wouldn’t encourage the girl to pine after a dog like Sam. The man left a trail of broken hearts behind him. Some woman was going to give him a comeuppance one of these days.

He pocketed the change from the girl and picked up the cups. Bea was awash in sunshine from the window behind her, bent over the binder and engrossed in the information within. The golden rays caressed the curls that had escaped the confines of the ponytail. They shone in shades of the sunrise itself. His heart did a funny flip.

“Ready?” He kept his gaze on the window instead of her. If she knew the foolish thoughts that raced around his equally foolish head, she would probably punch him. In the balls.

“Yeah, let’s go.” She closed the binder and got to her feet.

He tried to balance one coffee cup on top of the other, but she tutted at him, pushed his hat on his head, then opened the door. “We don’t need to stand on ceremony, Ranger. After you.”

Laz had been raised as a Southern gentleman and it was still part of who he was. Letting her hold the door for him went against his grain but he walked through without a word. He was about to spend more time with her. Alone in the store.

Shit. What had he agreed to?

Bea unlocked the
front door and held it open for Laz to come inside. He was looking too serious, with a tight jaw and flat expression. She was excited to find the clues in the details he’d compiled. It was the first time in a long time she felt like her brain was fully engaged.

Running a store was hard work, but it wasn’t mentally stimulating. This was not the ideal situation, by any means, but she enjoyed the challenge of figuring out the puzzle of why and who laid out for her.

She set the binder in the empty display case. “Wait here.” She went into the back and gathered supplies, then wheeled them out on the two chairs. Bea set the chairs facing the front of the store. She intended to use the plywood and the entire storefront to lay out the details.

Bea held up a package of large, neon sticky notes and black markers. “Let’s get to work.”

For the next four hours, they created columns and rows of information about all five burglaries. As the information became visual, Bea started to see a pattern.

“We need sustenance.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “That cinnamon bun is long gone.”

Laz glanced at his watch. “A little early for lunch.”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “I don’t follow normal conventions. Where’s the fun in that?”

His stomach grumbled and she raised one brow at him.

“Fine. I’m hungry too.” It seemed the confession was hard won given the frown on his face.

“Everybody has to eat, Ranger. I’ll go make some sandwiches and we’ll eat while we work. Then you won’t be shirking your duties.” She went up the back stairs and put together a few sandwiches, grabbed potato chips, a couple cans of soda, and napkins.

When she came back down with the food tucked into a bag, she found him facing the wall of sticky notes, legs braced and arms crossed. His ass was nicely framed in his jeans. Eminently squeezable. His shoulders looked so damn wide too.

“I hope you like ham and cheese.” She set the bag down in the display case. “I wasn’t prepared to feed a full-grown man.”

He grunted. She pulled out a sandwich and a soda, then sat down. His behind was at eye level and she found herself unable to look away. What she should’ve done was move but she didn’t. Nope, she stared, fascinated as he shifted his stance and the muscles moved beneath the fabric that covered his perfectly toned body. A pistol rode his hip, looking lethal and dark. Not unusual for anyone in Texas. Hell, she carried one in a concealed holster. The open carry, however, seemed right for who he was now. A ranger.

Bea couldn’t help herself. Lazarus Graham was a beautiful man. She hadn’t had occasion to touch a man with such a physical presence. Not that she would be touching him. Although she already had, hadn’t she? Damn, she’d hugged him in a moment of sheer insanity.

She chewed her sandwich and wondered what the hell she was doing. Her life had turned inside out in a matter of days. She didn’t know which end was up. Now here she was with her childhood nemesis, the boy turned man who had taken every opportunity to make her miserable.

Then he’d apologized. Apologized! He’d appeared genuinely contrite and he didn’t act like the Laz of old. No, he was a very serious, gruff man. Not the devil-may-care boy who burned the earth behind him as he flitted from prank to prank.

She wasn’t the same girl either. The responsibility of the store, the death of her parents, and the loss of her dreams had all conspired together to turn her life in another direction.

When she popped the top on the soda, he turned in an instant, so fast she barely saw him move but his hand was on his weapon and his visage hard as steel.

She watched him, her heart hammering in surprise. “Laz?”

He blew out a breath and relaxed his shoulders. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“Sandwiches are back there.” She gestured with her thumb. “There’s chips too.”

He took some food and settled in the chair beside her. They ate as they worked on the information. She moved sticky notes around, then he did, and then they
both
did.

It was a dance of information trying to solve a puzzle. As the day moved into late afternoon, she was surprised to find it was three o’clock already.

“We didn’t find what we needed.” She frowned at the brightly colored paper. “A day wasted.”

“No, not wasted. We know what they don’t have in common.” He joined her in frowning.

“Are you still on duty?” She pointed at the ceiling. “We could have an adult beverage.”

“Technically I’m always on duty, especially when I’m carrying.”

She shrugged. “Then take it off and join me.”

He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “What kind of adult beverage?”

She smiled. “A cold beer.”

His lips twisted, but he reached for the holster and unsnapped it from his belt. She jumped to her feet and darted upstairs. Fortunately, she had a six-pack in the fridge, and she raced back down to the store. What made her so happy? Spending time with Laz wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable.

He was sitting in the chair, leaning his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling. It was the posture of someone who was tired and defeated. Bea shouldn’t sympathize with him but she knew that posture well. Too well.

She handed him the six-pack, grabbed one and twisted off the top. As she sipped at the sinfully cold brew, she walked back and forth in front of the sticky note wall.

She stopped and reread the details she’d not connected before. “Holy shit. They’re all women owners.” She tapped at the names and ages. “And they’re all under age thirty-five.”

Laz sat in one of the chairs, the bottle in his hand, watching her in the light from the fluorescents. He nodded. “We knew that. Give me more.”

“All of them, including me, had alarms that were remotely disabled.” She stepped back and crossed her arms. “In each case, there was very little taken. It was almost all destruction, violence against the business. Or against the owner?” She turned to look at him.

“Maybe both.” He looked long and hard at each column of information.

“I’ve got one more idea.” She ran back into the office and printed off a map of the county. As she walked back into the front, she realized her heart was thumping, her blood was flowing and she felt
alive
. Was this because of Lazarus or because of what they were doing together?

She pinned the map to the piece of plywood on the left and marked the locations of each of the crimes. As he watched, she connected them, forming the shape of a star.

“A Texas star?” He got to his feet and approached the map, his brows drawn. “I didn’t see that.”

“It’s the bucket not the drop, the ten-thousand-foot view, the forest instead of the trees. Somehow someone is enjoying himself sending the cops in circles and causing destruction. For women.”

He traced the shape of the star with a finger. “Someone is playing games.”

“Dangerous, violent games.” She looked at the dates of the burglaries. “The crimes occurred during full moons.”

“Missed that too.” Laz turned his gaze toward her. “You should’ve been a cop.”

She laughed. “Funny you should say that. I went to school for two years and studied criminal justice. I left there when my parents died. I had to run the store.”

He cupped her cheek and a shiver raced down her skin. “You gave up your dreams to live theirs?”

She’d not heard it phrased in such a way before and it made her decision sound foolish. “No, I took responsibility for my family’s business. I couldn’t let my grandfather’s vision for a Cartwright legacy die with my parents.” Her tone was sharper than she expected.

“You’re right. I can’t judge you for what you did.” He pulled his hand away and she almost stopped him. “But for what it’s worth, you would have been a good cop.”

She turned away from him and stared blindly at the colorful sticky notes. The colors of the rainbow decorated the wall, a collection of awfulness in the guise of something beautiful.

“Thank you, I think.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I guess we have obligations to our families that we might not want.”

He nodded. “True enough.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I think we have something to start with. Finally.”

The warmth of his large hand was strangely comforting in the harsh light of the almost barren room. There was almost nothing left of the store. It was a clean slate. She could either rebuild what was taken from her, or she could sell it all and start again.

First, however, she wanted to find out who was behind the crimes and help Laz catch the son of a bitch.