Heaven to Betsy (Emily #1) (24 page)

“Over here,” Jack whispered back.

We lurched to it like two kids in a three-legged race, and fell face first into it.

I mumbled into the covers. “Jack?”

“Hmm?”

I turned to him. “Thank you for tucking me in.”

He rolled to face me, and that’s when it happened. I wasn’t sure which one of us started it, but the next thing I knew we were wrestling in a ferocious lip lock that was just about the best kiss I’d ever had. Shoot, it probably was
the
best, but I was too drunk to be sure. His big, rough, cowboy hands grabbed both sides of my face and his mouth consumed me, like my lips were the only thing between him and certain death. He kissed me like I was the first place belt buckle at the county fair. Like I was the prize at the bottom of the Cracker Jacks box. Like it was the Olympics and I was the gold medal.

And I kissed him back, my hands tearing at his shirt and shimmying up his tight stomach and sculpted chest. His breath hissed at my touch, and I wriggled closer. My bare foot slid and hooked around the back of his knee, pulling him into me.

He groaned. “Emily.”

I kissed him harder, panting. “Jack.”

“Emily,” he said again. “I have my boots on.”

I rubbed my foot up and down his leg, definitely feeling boot. “You doooo.”

He sat up on one elbow and stared down at me. He reached his free hand behind my neck and grasped me at the nape of it, pulling me up to him for one last kiss. My lips clung to his even as he released me. “Wait,” he said.

I watched him as he stood and stumbled around, yanking at his boots, hopping, cussing, and finally falling on his rump. My eyelids fluttered. I let them close for just one second, and I murmured his name as I thought about how good his lips felt on mine. I sighed, smiling. The last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was the hard contours of his body pressed into me, and then nothing at all.

When I woke up, I had a face full of warm skin, but the bed was spinning too fast for me to enjoy it. I mumbled, “Sorry,” and rolled onto the floor with a thud, then ran into the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and swished it in my mouth and groaned. My clothes were mussed but all in place, and I sighed in relief. I had a vague memory of a make-out session, and that was mortifying enough without the horror of waking up naked. Jack was my boss, and I was a not-yet-divorced woman who had just lost a baby, for God’s sake. One who didn’t want to put herself in a position where she had to figure out how to tell a man she was probably not the one he wanted to take home to mama, because she was a bust as a baby-maker.

Oh God, that reminded me. What if I hadn’t fallen asleep and had done . . . more? Dr. Patel had told me not to have intimate relations for some period of time, but I couldn’t remember how long he’d said. I hadn’t really listened because I didn’t think there was even the tiniest of chances that it was relevant. Who knew?

I paced in a wavering line back and forth in the bathroom. What was the right thing to do? Should I go sleep somewhere else? No, that was even worse. I had to get back in my own bed, I just couldn’t plaster myself all over my boss, that’s all. A memory of his hands tangled in my hair, my body pretzeled around his washed over me in a haze of lust. It was undignified, somewhat slutty, even, no matter how good he felt.

The clock on the bedside table read five a.m. I crept back to the bed in the dark, tripping over my shoes. I held myself motionless, not breathing. The bulk in my bed shifted and the mattress creaked. I stole around to the other side and tried to alight with the weight of a feather, outside of the covers. Once in place, I held myself frozen, listening to be sure he was asleep.

His body flipped over, and I tensed.

“Good morning, Standing Hair.”

I felt a giggle wave starting and I bit my lip, trapping it inside. “Good morning to you, Cheating Bull.”

“You sure do fall asleep fast.”

I moaned. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

He reached for me, sliding his arm under me and around my waist with the covers still between us. He pulled me to him in a strong and possessive way that made my pulse pound in a place that was supposed to be recovering from its recent medical procedure.

“Jack,” I said.

I’d intended my voice to sound like I was holding up a stop sign, but it came out more flashing green light, and then nothing came out at all because Jack had his mouth on mine. A knock on the door broke us apart, and Jack growled.

“Just a minute,” I called.

Jack’s hand around my waist drifted south. “If that’s Collin, I’m going to beat his ass.”

I grabbed his bottom lip between my teeth and sucked once, hard. “Just a second.”

After cupping my bottom and pulling me into him once more, Jack released me. I crawled out of bed and walked to the door. “Who is it?”

“Mickey. I need Jack.”

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Well, if you do, tell him that one of the hands just called in to tell me that he found a dead body in our southeastern pasture.”

“I’ll find him and tell—”

Behind me, Jack jumped to his feet and pulled the door open. Mickey stood outside, wearing last night’s clothes, Snowflake at his feet. From the bags under his droopy, bloodshot eyes, and the yellow tint to his skin, it looked like he’d had a rough time.

Jack turned back to me and said, “I’m sorry.” He pulled my face to his by the nape of my neck. I had a sense of déjà vu, then he kissed my socks off, almost literally, since when he grabbed me, the carpet dragged one of them down to my toes. He released me and reached back inside the door and grabbed his boots, Snowflake leaping at his face to steal a kiss as he did.

I stood open-mouthed, my lips burning, as the two men and the dog walked away. Then I gave myself a shake and scrambled after them.

Jack stopped long enough to step into one of his boots, and I caught up with them.

“Tell me everything you know,” Jack said to Mickey.

“Kenny was doing rounds and he found a dead guy in the middle of the southeastern pasture, right off the highway. He said there was no identification on him, and he didn’t recognize him, but the guy looked Mexican, really skinny, and like he’d been beaten pretty badly. No signs of anyone else out there, or any kind of altercation, either.”

Jack hopped into the other boot. “Have you called the police?”

“Waiting on you, cousin-man.”

They walked down the stairs, with me still hanging on their every word.

“Call ’em,” Jack said. “I’ll get coffee and we can drive out together when you’re off the phone.”

Mickey had his cell phone out by the time Jack finished speaking, and he walked over to the mountain-facing windows in the great room. I followed my boss into the kitchen and leaned forward against the breakfast bar. He put the dog out and poured her some food and water.

“I’ll make coffee if you want to change or anything.”

He smiled at me, and it was strange to see this new, open Jack in the full light of the kitchen.

“You should sleep,” he said. “Save up your energy for Johnson’s party later, and maybe a ride with me, if we can squeeze it in.”

In light of our shenanigans last night, it seemed odd to think, but I probably shouldn’t ride. I hadn’t really told him anything about my surgery, but I would just have to deal with it later, if it came up.

“A dead body?” I said. “I can’t sleep now. Is this a normal thing around here?”

Jack turned on his automatic coffee maker after filling it with grounds from a canister that smelled spicy and delicious.

“Nope,” Jack said. He set out two travel mugs. “Want one?”

“Sure.”

He placed a WTR porcelain mug beside the others. Snowflake yipped, and I walked to the door and let her in. She went straight for the food bowl.

Mickey joined us in the kitchen. “Tularosa is on the way, and it sounds like we should expect Alamogordo to show up, too. If they decide there’s a chance he came from the reservation, they’ll get the res police involved as well. Gonna be a long day.”

Jack poured each of us black coffee while Mickey talked. Mickey claimed his mug and headed out the door to the garage. Jack hung back. He opened a cabinet by the refrigerator and retrieved keys, handing them to me.

“I’ll be riding with Mickey,” Jack said. “The Suburban is yours. Go into town, get yourself food, go shopping, whatever you want. We’ll leave here for Johnson’s at about four-thirty, so I’ll see you sometime before then. Call if you need me.”

He leaned in and kissed me hard, and a smile broke out across my face. He grinned back, his face an inch from mine. “What are you smiling about?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I can’t help it.”

I watched his Wrangler-clad butt as he walked out, and covered my mouth to keep my smile from coming out aloud.

***

Collin’s voice behind me on the stairs broke me out of my trance some minutes later. “What’s going on?” He yawned.

As I turned away from my view of the mountains, I caught sight of most of his midsection as his morning stretch lifted his shirt. I averted my eyes. I didn’t feel ready to talk to him, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice.

“Dead man down out in a pasture. Cops converging.” I stifled a yawn. “Too early.”

“Too early for me to comprehend a word you just said,” Collin said. “Other than it sounded too much like my day job.”

Motioning at the mug in my hand, Collin walked toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Should be some left. Jack just made it.”

I moved to the base of the stairs, halfway into the kitchen, halfway in the great room.

Collin tilted the carafe all the way over until the last few drops ran out. “My head tells me we partied like rock stars,” he said.

“Something like that.”

He dug in his pocket. “I crawled around in the hall last night for half an hour and finally found this.” He held up Tamara’s ring. “She didn’t come back for me.”

“Do you blame her?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Have you checked on her? She shouldn’t have been driving.”

“Yeah. She called me when she got home, to chew my ass again.”

I nodded. “Good.”

Snowflake sidled up to me and rubbed against my ankles.

“Yeah, um, Em, about what happened between us—”

I crossed my arms. “Whoa, Collin. There was no us. There was you, wasted, and there was me, blindsided.”

“Well, yeah, that. I’m sorry. I really messed things up.”

“Yes, you did.”

He sipped coffee. “But I spoke the truth, even if I shouldn’t have. I fell in love with you the first time Katie brought you around. Life never works out like I expect it will. I always thought someday you’d dump that putz husband of yours for me and we’d be together. I didn’t ever imagine you’d go through what you have, or that I’d find Tamara in the meantime.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“Don’t be like that. You know I don’t mean anything bad. I may be a dumbass, but I’m a dumbass that has been in love exactly twice. You’re the first, Tamara’s the second. I should have told you years ago, but my pride never let me. Which doesn’t matter now, because I’m going to make up with Tamara, even if it takes me a decade after pulling an asshat stunt like I did last night.”

I smiled. “Well, if I had to tell the truth, it would be that I was pretty convinced you’d be around if I ever needed you, and that I was disappointed when I found out you were engaged.”

Collin strutted around the kitchen but then clutched his head, like the cock of the walk with a tequila headache that he was. “Ha. I knew it.”

“For about two minutes.”

“Don’t ruin my moment.”

“A minute and a half.”

“Hey, let me take you to breakfast, make it up to you.”

“Don’t you need to make it up to Tamara instead?”

He shook his head. “She flew out this morning. Doesn’t get back until tonight. Military shit. I’m stranded and starving.”

I looked at the clock. Six a.m. I’d have to drive him home anyway, since I suspected we were a little outside of Yellow Cab’s range, and I needed food. He was behaving, so, why not?

“Okay, but let’s wait for a civilized hour. I’m going to shower. I’ll be back down here at seven-thirty.” I retreated up the stairs with Snowflake right behind me.

***

I shoveled in a bite of huevos rancheros, minus the huevos.
More like frijoles rancheros,
I thought. Refried beans stuck in a mass of heat to the roof of my mouth. I opened my lips a smidge to suck in air. After a few cooling breaths, I chewed happily. Our surly waiter had made no apologies for the forty-five minute wait for our food, but the chow was so good that I forgave him.

Collin had ordered steak and eggs, and he dug into his rib eye, extra rare. Blood oozed onto the plate, and he sopped it up with his tortilla in one hand and his meat on the tines of his fork in the other. He waved the beef bite as he talked, and its delicious aroma wafted toward me, teasing me. Sometimes I missed meat, especially now that I didn’t live with Rich the vegan.

Collin talked while he chewed. “This place is an institution. Tamara introduced me to it the first time I came to visit her.”

“This place” was the Old Road House in Mescalero, a joint so local it had no sign out front. The red adobe restaurant was one-story on the parking side, and two-story in back, with wooden rafters, red tile floors, and a casual crowd of locals who seemed to find us slightly repellant, if fascinating. Green and red chiles hung in bunches on the inside walls alongside an elaborate papoose board, a feathered headdress, and a magnificent Apache bow.

“You come down a lot?”

“I do. She can’t get away as easily as me.”

I half-listened as Collin continued talking. The other half of me concentrated on my food . . . and eavesdropping on the two guys at the table behind me. They’d come in after us, and, when I’d turned to look at them, it was clear they were from a branch of Mickey’s family tree. From the sound of their hushed voices, something had them excited. Or maybe agitated was a better word for it. I resisted the urge to turn and watch them.

The first man’s voice said, “Well, I heard somebody’s been selling silver, a lot of it, and they found it near here. Sure wasn’t you or me or anyone else we know working a claim.”

A higher voice, still male, answered him. “Ain’t nobody been spending money that I can see. It’s probably just rumors, man. There’s always rumors.”

The first voice spoke again. “Yeah, probably. But still, keep your ear to the ground and your eyes wide open. I want in on it if it’s real.”

Collin snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. “Earth to Emily.”

I jumped. “Sorry. I’m in a hungover daze.” I cut another bite of frijoles rancheros and scooped it up. Delicious. It was the perfect eating temperature now.

“So, you said you were taking a file to show Tamara last night. Want to run it past me? I’ve been told I’m a fairly competent investigator.”

“I can’t believe you even remember.” Last night was a blur, but I took myself back and recalled the conversation I’d had with Laura and Tamara. “Tamara identified a tattoo for me, one on the arm of a guy that kidnapped that little girl that’s missing, Valentina. She’s the daughter of our client, who died in Amarillo.”

“Show me.”

I drew the ΣSL on a napkin like I’d done the night before and slid it over to him.

“And what did Tamara say about it?”

“That it was the sign of the East Side Lobos, a gang that runs in Las Cruces.”

“Interesting. And Jack?”

I sat, blinking, as I realized that I hadn’t told Jack about the tattoo. My mind retread the day Valentina had been taken, rushing to PCCB, telling Jack the story but cutting it short to meet with Melinda, her news about Sofia, and then nothing. I’d never given him this piece of information. I felt like an idiot, a greenhorn.

“I don’t know,” I said.

Collin squinted at me, but I shook my head. He shrugged. “Okay, what else do you know about the guy?”

“White skinned. Bald head.”

“Like a skinhead?”