On Her Father's Grave (Rogue River Novella Book 1) (10 page)

“Or like Grace, they thought it was a parent dropping someone off.”

“We need to ask Hunter’s friends again,” Stevie said.

“Is it wrong of me to say I’m tired of talking to teens?” Zane asked. They made him feel old, and it was a lot of work to figure out if they had anything helpful locked in their brains. He glanced at Kenny and Sheila, who had started another conversation about the schedule of events for the Memorial Day celebration. Keeping Stevie’s gaze, he jerked his head toward his office and she followed him out of the room.

“Do you need to go look around Ted’s place?” he asked her once they were in his office.

Surprise crossed her face. “No. Of course not.”

“What did it remind you of?” He crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against his desk.

Her lips pressed together, and he saw her struggle to keep a calm expression.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What happened?”

Her dark gaze finally met his. “It was horrible. One of ours in LA. They held him down and burned him with acid. I was one of the first there.” Her voice faded away.

He waited.

“It was a meth operation that was run in a place that looked exactly like the home and barn at Ted’s. The guys took off when we came in, but I had to listen to him scream while I waited for backup.” She bent her head and placed her hands over her ears with a shudder. “I can still hear the sound.”

Zane unfolded his arms and put a hand on her shoulder. “Did he make it?”

“He lived,” she said simply. Her hands covered her eyes. “I can’t believe the evil people are capable of.” Her shoulders shook and he pulled her against him, her arms pinned between them, her hands still hiding her eyes. Stevie was tall, her chin rested on his shoulder, and he wished he could stop her shudders.

“When did this happen?”

“Six months ago.”

“Is that why you left?”

“It was a big part of the reason. I haven’t told anyone. Except the department shrink they made me meet with. It’s too horrible to talk about,” she ended in a whisper.

He rubbed at her back, feeling her shoulder blades through her uniform.

“I’ll never forget that smell. Or the sounds.”

They stood like that for a few more seconds until she pulled away. “Thank you,” she said quietly, looking away from him. She’d removed her hands from her eyes and he’d caught a glimpse of the raw emotion haunting their depths.

He missed her heat and the sunshine scent from her hair. “You okay?” he asked.

She forced a smile and tenuous eye contact. “Yes. It gets to me sometimes.”

“That would disturb anyone. But I’ll ask you again, do we need to go take a look around Ted’s place?”

“No.” She gave a half smile. “It’s ridiculous for me to feel like this.”

“No, don’t play down your feelings. We could go say we’re doing a follow-up survey about his time in the holding cell yesterday. Like what sort of rating would he give the cleanliness?”

Amused sparks lit up her eyes and her smile widened. “Not necessary. Guys like Ted will always give us opportunities to take a closer look when needed.”

Zane wondered if his shorts made him look “old” as he wandered through the city park. He eyed a group of male teens waiting in line for their corn dogs and curly fries at a food truck. There was no way he was going to let his shorts sag halfway off his ass, but he also hoped he didn’t look as ridiculous as his father had when he wore mid-calf black socks with his tennis shoes.

Thirty-five wasn’t old. Right?

Two teen girls walked by the group of guys, blatantly ignoring their comments, but clearly choosing that path to catch the boys’ notice.

Some things never change.

The smell of the fried food made his mouth water, but he wanted to stroll by all the food trucks before he decided what to eat. Solitude lacked a variety of restaurants. There was the Dairy Queen, of course, but it was the only franchise that’d put down roots in town. That left the choice of the local diner or the newer, organic farm-to-table place that’d opened up a year ago. Their food was good and it was nice to have something that offered different selections, but the main town complaint was that the portions were too small. Sometimes you wanted a huge plate of onion rings and didn’t care if your local farmer had grown the onions without insecticide.

The Memorial Day celebration had brought in a dozen food trucks and everyone was taking advantage of the diversity. A small carnival with rides and games filled two-thirds of the park. A petting zoo and face painting booth attracted the younger set. In the center of the park was a small pavilion decorated with red, white, and blue bunting that hosted a country music band. Directly in front of the band, dancers crowded the portable dance floor. Zane paused in his food hunt to watch the dancers two-step.

Zane didn’t want to live anywhere else. He was determined to carve out his niche in Solitude. The homey town had spoken to his heart the first day he’d arrived, seeking to put down roots in a small town with less winter snow and cold. The temperate west side of Oregon held more appeal than where he’d grown up in the high desert of eastern Oregon.

He recognized three-quarters of the people present, and knew the first names of most of them. “Evening, Chief” was the refrain he heard as he walked through the park. Word had spread. They knew he was chief, and they’d accepted it. Would he stop feeling like an outsider now? He’d always had Solitude’s respect, but he wanted that deep sense of belonging. He thought of Big Bill and the legacy the man had left behind. Bill Taylor would always be remembered for his decades of service.

Zane wanted to achieve the same.

He spotted Stevie among the two-steppers. She wore a short denim skirt and cowboy boots. The usual country girl’s “goin’ out” uniform. The beaming smile on her face told him she’d put her brief flashback from that morning behind her. He watched her step and slide, admiring her ease with the steps. Her dance partner grabbed her hand and spun her, and jealousy poked Zane in the chest.

Eric Hearne.

Judging by the smile on Stevie’s face, she’d reconsidered Eric’s request for a date.

“Good evening, Chief. Enjoying the festivities?”

Zane looked down to find Patsy Taylor smiling at him. Merriment shone in her eyes and made him wonder if his face had reflected his thoughts of the last ten seconds.

“Absolutely. I was trying to figure out what I want for dinner.”

Patsy turned her gaze in the opposite direction to the food trucks. “I believe you’re looking in the wrong place, Zane.”

“Am I?” he said softly.

She tilted her head at him. “She’s only been in town a few days. She’s had a major upheaval in her life, but I believe she’s here to stay. I always knew she’d come back someday. Out of all my kids, I knew she would have to leave Solitude to figure out that this is where she belonged.” She looked at the dancers. “Go slowly, Zane. And have patience. She might have to try something else first to figure out that it’s not right for her. Then the answer will be obvious.”

Zane followed her gaze. “Patience isn’t one of my strong points.”

“Sure it is. I’ve been watching you for five years as you waited for the right woman to come to town. What do you think you’ve been doing?” Her gaze seemed to penetrate deep into his soul, seeing things he tried to keep private.

“You’ve been watching me?” he muttered, feeling exposed and a bit betrayed. He’d always considered Patsy and Bill good friends. Had he simply been a social experiment?

She put her hand on his arm and warmth flowed through his muscles. He felt ashamed for doubting her friendship. “Bill adored you. He considered you to be one of his sons. And I’ve always loved having you join our family. I’ve watched you with the eyes of a mother who simply wants the best for you. That’s all. I want the people I care about to be happy.”

“I’m her boss. It’s not right.” He looked at her hopefully, wanting her to give him a solution.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked.

“Well,” he paused. “What if it doesn’t work out and we have to continue to work together in the same small building? Will she respect me as a boss? Will it be awkward? Will we be able to get along?”

Brown eyes like Stevie’s measured him. “So you always start a new relationship preparing for its bitter end?”

“Of course not,” he muttered. “But I have to consider the consequences. This could affect more than just the two of us. Like the people we work with.”

“Does it really, Zane?” she asked softly. “Are the two of you the type to make people around you miserable if something doesn’t go as expected? I know you haven’t known Stevie long, but from what you do know, is she the type to disrespect you after?”

Not at all
. Stevie had honor and integrity flowing out of her pores. It was how she was made. She couldn’t get away from it. Just like her mother.

“Thank you, Patsy.” Zane forced the words out, his throat feeling thick. He wrapped his arms around her tiny form in a hug and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “That’s for watching out for me.”

“Hey, that’s my mother you’re kissing.”

James stopped beside Zane and gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

“Grandma!” shouted the three-year-old holding James’s hand. He rushed Patsy for a hug. She promptly picked him up and swirled him in a circle.

James grinned at Zane. “Nice to see you’re not on duty. How’d you get so lucky?”

“I write the schedule these days.” The country song ended, and Zane’s gaze went back to the dancers, where Stevie and Eric had stopped and now chatted with another couple.

“Say, did you come across Dad’s journals yet?” James asked quietly, glancing at his mother.

Is he hiding from Patsy that he wants them or that they’re missing?

“I haven’t had time to look,” Zane answered as quietly. If Patsy thought her husband’s last few months of journals were missing, she’d be devastated. He promised himself that he’d skim through them faster. In his mind it was the best way to see what private concerns Bill had had about the town and its people.

“If you’ll excuse me, James, I’m going to ask one of my patrol officers to dance.”

Stevie was breathless with a giddy happiness. She’d been dancing nonstop for the last half hour with men she hadn’t seen in years. She’d hit a country dance bar a time or two in LA, but until now she’d forgotten how different it was to enjoy the music when you knew most of the people in the crowd. Nothing was better than small town celebrations.

Eric had grabbed her hand after she’d danced with an old friend of her father’s. He’d pulled her directly into a simple two-step that’d required him to have a hand on her the entire time. He’d smiled and flirted, and she’d returned every nuance, pleased to see that he hadn’t given up on her when she hadn’t immediately jumped at his offer of a date last night.

She could do a lot worse than Eric.

But right now she didn’t need to complicate her life with a man. She hadn’t unpacked 80 percent of the boxes in her tiny apartment. Its bare walls had stared at her as she’d hunted through the avalanche of boxes for her cowboy boots. Someday she’d hang up some pictures. She currently enjoyed the carefree feeling of no concerns. No commitment to her walls, no commitment to a man. She could do whatever and dance with whomever she pleased.

The music stopped and Eric hugged her. “You look gorgeous,” he said close to her ear.

She felt unstoppable. The dancing had sent endorphins racing through her system, and she felt she could dance all night. She smiled at him, enjoying the open admiration in his green eyes.
Oh, yeah.
He made her feel beautiful.

A couple she didn’t know stopped to talk to Eric, and he turned his attention away from her for a moment. She glanced at the band. It hadn’t announced it was taking a break, so hopefully they were just discussing what to play next. Her feet wanted to keep going. Eric introduced her to the couple, and she nodded, shook hands, and exchanged the usual pleasantries. She smiled, not really listening to the conversation about an ordering issue with Eric’s hardware store when a warm hand touched the back of her arm.

Turning, she looked into Zane’s blue eyes. Her boss wasn’t in uniform, and he looked like he was ready for an evening walk along the beach in LA. All attractive male casualness. But those eyes weren’t casual. Their intensity was focused directly on her.

Hello.

“Can I have the next dance?”

Surprised at her sudden light-headedness, she nodded and stepped closer. The band played a few opening notes, and Stevie dimly noticed it was a slow song. As Zane looked over her shoulder and nodded, she realized she’d blindly stepped away from her current partner without saying a word. Glancing back, she saw Eric nod in response to Zane. A split second later Zane swept her away and the poignant lyrics of Sugarland’s “Stay” filled the evening.

“I’m so tired of being lonely. Don’t I give you what you need?”

The female singer in the band nailed the plaintive soulfulness of the words, and Stevie felt her heart lump in her throat. Zane’s brows narrowed. “What’s wrong?”