Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4) (23 page)

"Holy fuck—Joe! I'm coming..." And just like that I convulse around him, a seemingly endless pulsing of my inner walls around the substantial size of him. Pulling, pushing, massaging, until his breathing halts and the veins in his neck bulge. I watch in wonder as his mouth drops open, his head falls back and with uncontrolled jerks, Joe comes apart between my legs. Beautiful.

"Beautiful," I whisper to him, stroking my hand over his face. His eyes find mine and I swear I see his heart right there.

"You give that to me," he says before tucking his head in my neck and staying there until our breathing returns to normal and he slips softly from my body

"Gotta get my girl fed. Much as I don't want to move, we should get going." Joe rolls off me and out of the bed. The sudden cold air sends a shiver over my skin. "Come on, hop in a warm shower. I'm getting the coffee started." With a quick kiss on my lips he turns to walk out of the room and I take a minute to enjoy the flex of his tight ass, before the chill forces me into the bathroom. Once up, a sense of urgency to get back to the hospital and Fox hit me, and I'm in and out of the shower in a matter of minutes. Joe walks in with a steaming mug just as I wrap a towel around myself.

"Here. Some wake-up juice. Some bread ready to go downstairs in the toaster. Have at it while I take a quick rinse, okay? I know you're eager to go see our boy."

"I like it," I say softly, my voice a little rough.

"What, beautiful?" he asks, standing behind me, finding my eyes in the mirror.

"The way you say 'our boy'...I like it. Makes me feel like I'm not alone in fighting for him."

His hands slide around my waist from behind and he rests his chin on my shoulder, never looking away.

"Grown to care about your son, Naomi. He had a dick for a father who fucked with his mind and his self-esteem. No kid deserves that. He's a good kid, he just needs to know it. Besides, I've grown to care about his mom a great deal too."

The feeling bubbling up in my chest is so intense, it borders on painful, like something is ready to burst through, but all I say is, "Yeah?".

"Yeah," he whispers, kissing my shoulder.

"Well, I like that too."

"Nice signal, you fucking asshole!"

The green Toyota that's been stuck in front of us ever since leaving my street, going slower than a geriatric with ankle weights, finally decides to turn into a parking lot without any indication. I have to slam on the brakes and my arm inadvertently shoots out to hold Naomi back in her seat.

"Sorry, babe. You ok?" I look over to where she is holding up the two travel mugs of coffee we took with us, eager to get to the hospital.

"Fine. Good thing I was holding these, or they'd be all over the floor. What an idiot."

"You can say that again. Changing lanes in front of me every time I'd try to pass. Normally I would've had the number down already, but I never even thought of it until just now. Head's just not in the game." I'm actually pissed at myself, because this is supposed to come naturally to me as the fucking sheriff of this county, but it seems my vision has narrowed in a huge way these last few weeks. Definitely off my game and not quite sure what that says.

I can feel Naomi's eyes on me when I turn to her with a little reassuring smile.

When we walk into Fox's room, he is sitting up in bed, looking only a little worse for wear. Neil is lounging on the  La-Z-Boy by the window.

"Did you bring me a coffee?" he asks, checking out the travel mugs in our hands.

"Sorry, Neil. I'll buy you a cafeteria breakfast though?" I walk up to the bed and ruffle Fox's hair, who is wrapped tight in his mother's arms. Might not be a bad idea to give them a little alone time.

"You gonna be okay here, Doc? While I take Neil for a quick bite? Dooley has a uniform posted outside the door still. I can bring you something back?"

"Yeah, go right ahead. The toast was enough for me for now. I don't need anything else. We'll be fine."

I bend down to kiss her before winking to Fox who looks on with an eyebrow raised, and turn to follow Neil out the door.

"Serious between you then?" Neil nudges my shoulder as we make our way down the hall to the caf.

"Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I think so."

"God. I swear every time someone steps foot inside Cedar Tree city-limits, another one of our team goes down. Next thing I know, I catch them going at it like bunnies. Just you wait and see—you're next—it's like a curse." The semi-disgusted look on his face has me laughing out loud. I like Neil. He's like a big kid with an even bigger brain, and from what I can tell, he has a set of balls to match.

"Your turn will come, kid. Your turn will come."

"Fat chance of that, old man," he deadpans, before pushing open the door to the smell of bacon.

With plates piled with food, we find a spot by the window.

"How did last night go?"

"Kid slept most of it, except when the nurses would wake him to check his vitals. Dooley checked in at about six this morning on his way to the station, wanting to know if there were any issues overnight. He's a pretty good guy. Seems to like you all right. He was pissed as hell you got suspended. Sorry about that by the way. Bureaucracy at its best," Neil shakes his head while wrestling an entire piece of toast in his mouth.

"Yeah well, it is what it is. Right now I'm pretty happy to be able to stick close and make sure Doc and Fox stay safe. Did Dooley say anything about the investigation? About Rivas?"

"He was hoping to question him today. Apparently they removed a bullet from his shoulder yesterday. They've kept him here under guard overnight, but today he'll be released straight to jail. Seems the officer wasn't quite as lucky and ended up in surgery trying to fix his gut. The second kid turns out to be a new transplant to Cortez. His dad's in business with Les Vincent and apparently the parents have been putting pressure on the kids to hang out. Joey Gruber hails from Grand Junction as well and knew Rivas; had apparently bought drugs off him from time to time. He'd been surprised when Rivas approached him in Cortez a while back, offering him money to get close to the other high school kids. The game was supposed to be that Joey would introduce a little meth that Rivas would give him and give the kids a taste. As far as the kid knew, Rivas was setting up shop in Cortez and he was going in at ground level. Joey managed to invite himself along with Michael Vincent to a bonfire and passed around meth to the kids. But when Fox and Michael got picked up, Rivas insisted they had to be 'taken care of,' and the two of them went after them. Michael was first. Joey claims he tried to back off after he saw Rivas stab Michael, but was afraid of him. Looks like Rivas is gonna have a much longer rap sheet than petty drugs now. Dooley wouldn't give me the guy's cell number, but I managed to dig it up anyway. Did a bit of 'sleuthing' while the kid was still sleeping and found some interesting stuff on his account. Sent it all through to Gus already. He's following up on it with his connections in Phoenix. Looks like there may have been some intense contact between Rivas and someone with a Phoenix number."

"Maxim fucking Heffler I bet. Jesus...how far is that guy's reach? And he's still blowing in the wind, right?"

"The phone number may help trace him. Leave it with Gus. He mentioned something about calling Malachi back as well."

I'm itching to go out and work the case myself, but if there is anyone I trust as much as I trust myself, it's Gus. Well aware of my shifting priorities, I walk back into Fox's room after sending Neil off, telling him to get some well-deserved rest.

The rest of the morning, I spend going back and forth between the lobby and the kid's room, checking in with Carol at the office, talking to Gus and setting up an appointment for Clint to meet us at the feed store at five o'clock this afternoon. Clint is a contractor who has done work on Arlene's Diner and recently finished the renovations on Katie and Caleb's barn. He's an honest guy and is fast becoming a permanent fixture in Cedar Tree and at Arlene's Diner, although I have a sneaky suspicion that may not just be because of the good food. Naomi talked with the real estate agent who sold her the house here in Cortez, and he is drawing up some papers to get that on the market as soon as we can get it cleaned out. She is dead serious about not wanting to set foot in there again. Arlene walked in a little while ago with Emma to visit Fox with a care package from the diner—putting the first big smile on his face. She was able to get the realtor for the feed store to promise to open up the place for us this afternoon. That woman has connections up the wazoo, and anyone with a lick of sense knows not to stand in her way when she has her mind set on something. It's clear Arlene has her mind set on setting Naomi up in a clinic for Cedar Tree.

When I get back in the room, Fox is licking the crumbs that remain from his care package and the girls are sitting around chatting.

"That the bitch who ratted you out?" Arlene says, looking past Naomi into the hallway where Jenna can be seen talking to one of the doctors with her eyes firmly fixed on this door.

"I already quit last night, Arlene. And gave her a piece of my mind, so just drop it."

"Yeah, but your piece of mind and my piece of mind likely have a distinctly different flavor to it, honey," she says with a smirk.

Oh boy. I see someone is out for blood. Before Arlene can barrel out the door, I manage to catch her.

"Hold up there, you amazon. Love you wanting to go to battle for my girl, and I can't say it wouldn't be entertaining to see her cut down a few, Arlene-style, but the kid is gonna have to be here—in
her
hospital—for who knows how much longer. So let's try to hold off until he's in the clear, shall we?"

"You're a fucking party-pooper, you know that Sheriff?” she says leveling me with a pointed glare and settling a hand on her hip. “I even had my nails sharpened this morning in hopes I'd get a chance to have a go at her, and now Seb's gonna complain I'm ripping his back to shreds. Again," she finishes with a pout as she returns to sit down beside Naomi who is fighting not to laugh.

"Good lawd, Arlene! TMI already.
And
language. We have an impressionable young man here who doesn't need to hear about your bloodthirsty bedroom antics, or listen to your potty mouth," Emma scolds her friend who throws her head back and cackles loudly.

"You shitting me? You have the mouth of a long-haul trucker, woman. And as for bedroom antics, who keeps getting caught on the kitchen counter with her clothes off?"

Naomi's loud snort sets everyone off. When I look over at Fox his eyes are huge in his head before he starts laughing along and I can't hold back either. These two are fucking nuts, but they make everyone around them always feel a shitload better.

"W
ell this is a surprise, isn't it?"

Clint looks around the large living room of what I now know to be the old Parker property. The feed store.

It is quite surprising. From the road, all you can really see is the wide, old brick storefront with the ample parking lot, both of which reveal rather obvious years of neglect. Around the back, however, is a sizable, older family home, hidden somewhat by the store that sits in front of it, and the trees on the side. And in the back, is an open view over a decent yard, bordering on some farmer's fields, and Ute Mountain in the distance. A porch runs along the side and back of the house and looks to be in need of repair, but once inside, the house looks to be in decent condition at first glance. Big too. Much bigger than it appears from the outside.

The realtor is waiting outside, at Joe's request, giving us a chance to do a walk through with Clint by ourselves. Not exactly pleased from the look of him, but apparently smart enough to realize that when people showed up with a contractor, they were likely interested, he retreated to his fancy car to wait.

I can hear Clint stomping around, opening and closing doors and cupboards while I'm still taking in the space. This is pretty nice. Scratch that; this is fucking amazing. What looks to be a large mudroom with laundry hook-ups connects the building in front to the house and opens into a foyer of sorts. One that has the front door to the house on one side, a powder room and a stairway going up and one going down on the other. A big opening in the separating wall leads into the living space with a large eat-in kitchen to the left. Somebody has done at least some work on this place at some point, because the kitchen is an open concept and the big room almost wraps around it in an L-shape. Against the back wall, the living or dining room—whatever it is—becomes the full width of the house. The only thing missing is some large windows or a sliding door. My mind is already working up visions of what the right window placement would do in here because, I bet with a few changes, it would be bright as day in here.

"What are you smiling about," Joe mumbles in my hair, as I feel his arms slide around me from behind. I swing around and loop my arms around his neck, smiling into his eyes.

"The place feels right. It feels good. What do you think?" I watch him closely as his eyes scan the space and linger on the view out the window.