She groaned out loud. “Rune…”
“You want to come, don’t you? I want you to come. I want to feel you gush into my hand.”
She heard another zipper sound, and then he grabbed her hand and pulled it inside his pants. He wrapped it around his cock, which was already hard to the touch. It burned against her palm.
“Wait,” he muttered.
He pulled her hand out of his pants and slid it into her own, replacing his. He rubbed it up and down until her own juices covered it. Then he switched their hands again so her now-slick palm wrapped around his erection. And his rough calloused skin was once again working her clit.
They didn’t say any more words. Nothing but harsh grunts filled the air, mingling with the whine of the wind battering the car from outside. The energy of that wind seemed to travel right through the metal into the two of them. Maya felt electrified with the same wild feeling that comes before a storm. Tear it apart. Blow it open. Fuck me hard.
The only reason they weren’t joined together, with him buried inside her, was that he was just too big for the small space. But they were as close as two humans sharing the front seat of a car could be. Hands down each other’s pants. Hot breath in each other’s ears.
He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. She gasped and bit the tendon straining along his neck. He growled and pinched her clit between two fingers. She fingered the tip of his cock with her thumb. He lowered his head to her closest nipple and bit her through her top. She squeezed her legs tighter, clamping his hand harder against her sex.
Move, countermove…action, response…give, take…battle, retreat.
And then, surrender to the most glorious grind-it-out orgasm she’d ever experienced. The rough pad of his fingertip working her clit against her own folds took her to a delirious screaming peak. Rune came too, jets of liquid spilling onto her hand. His cock pulsed against her palm in time to his husky groans. “Oh yeah. Oh fuck yeah.”
And then it was done and he collapsed back into the driver’s seat. A sense of… emptiness stole over her. Everything had drained out, leaving her empty of the fear and hurt she’d felt at her father’s announcement. Empty of anything except amazement that she was here, right now, with Rune.
She didn’t want to be anywhere else.
For a long moment the two of them just breathed together as their heart rates slowly went back to normal. He reached for the backseat and found a towel in his medical bag. He used it to gently wipe off her hand.
She let out a long, heaving sigh.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Yeah. I really do. Thanks, I guess I needed that.” Was it weird to thank him? She didn’t care. “I didn’t know I had so much emotion all worked up inside me.”
“No surprise there. I never really got used to my stepfather. Cara’s dad. But you and Harris are still going to be close. I don’t think you have to worry.”
“Rune, about what happened with Jerome…” She wanted to say so much more. She wanted to tell him how important he’d become to her. How happy their relationship made her. How much she cared for him. How for the first time since her heartbreak, her walls weren’t going back up. How he made her feel adored, safe, sexy, hopeful.
But the words didn’t want to come out. They clogged in her throat and the next thing she knew, someone was tapping at the window.
She startled and quickly zipped up her jeans. Next to her, Rune did the same. Good thing the dome light wasn’t on and that they’d managed to steam up the windows. If one of her own sergeants was out there, she’d really never hear the end of it.
Composing her face into stern police chief mode, she rolled down the window. Not a sergeant, thank God. Boris Clancy stood astride his bike, the wind whipping his yellow oilskin jacket against his body. A chicken wrapped in a sweater huddled in his front basket. She had no idea how he handled the cold on a bicycle, but even on the iciest days he made his regular rounds.
“No one’s supposed to be here,” he began, before he saw that it was her. “Oh. Sorry, Chief. It’s you. And—” he peered past her. “And him. The superstar.”
Oh good lord. If the gossip had spread all the way to Boris, that meant the Olde Salt crew and all the “harbor rats” were in on it too.
“His name is Rune, and we’re just having a quiet conversation while enjoying the view.”
She waved at the cranes and piles of compressed metal that made up the industrial landscape of the deepwater harbor.
“You aren’t doing surveillance?”
“No. Not right now.”
Boris picked at something in his beard. He seemed disturbed by her response.
Her detective instincts pinged, a little tap on her shoulder.
“Is there something I should be surveilling?” she asked. “Have you noticed something?”
“No,” he said quickly, almost fearfully. “No. I didn’t say that. You should go away. I have to go now.”
He hopped on his bike and pedaled hard toward the main road.
Maya shared a glance with Rune. “That was weird. He seemed scared of something.”
Rune nodded, watching him go in the rearview mirror. “Want to follow him?”
“No, that would send him into a meltdown. He gets paranoid pretty easily. We probably wouldn’t learn anything that way.”
“Maybe he’s acting scared because he’s paranoid and sliding into a mental break.”
“That’s possible. Or he’s genuinely frightened. Maybe he saw something, or maybe someone’s threatening him.”
“Do you think it could be related to the Lost Souls situation?”
“I’m not speculating on that. I’ll have to pry it out of him some other time.” She shivered. Now that the heat they’d generated was wearing off, the cold was stealing in.
He started up the car and turned on the heat. “Home?”
“Yes please.” She hesitated, not wanting this time together to end. With Rune, she didn’t have to be so guarded. The responsibility she felt as Lost Harbor’s police chief faded, and she just felt like… herself. He seemed to care about her. Her feelings, her mood, her wishes. Just her. It was such a relaxing feeling. It made her want to cuddle up next to him and let the rest of the world vanish.
Of course as soon as they drove up Harris’ driveway, where she’d left her car, it all came back. Because Vicki’s red Jeep was there, and her father was getting married and that meant the one person who had always been there for her one hundred percent was going to have different priorities now.
And she’d just have to get used to it.
“Want to come back for a hot bath?” she asked Rune as she was getting out of his car. “Bubbles and everything?”
“Rain check,” he told her. “I want to make sure Cara’s okay. She was a little weird on the drive from school.”
“I can explain that one for you.”
His eyes glinted green in the light from his dashboard. “Oh yeah?”
“One word. Superstar.”
He groaned and dropped his head onto his steering wheel. “Fuck me.”
“I’ll find a way to make it up to you, Rune, I swear. Think about that bathtub.”
“Oh, I’ll be thinking about it, you don’t have to worry about that.”
Chapter 27
Maya swung by the Holt homestead to check out the barn. Besides the beer can, she found the discarded wrapper of a vending machine snack pack. Lost Harbor had very few vending machines; only the hospital and the gas station came to mind. She left behind a flyer for the local homeless shelter.
Not that she thought anything nefarious was going on in Mrs. Holt’s barn, but her complaint, especially combined with Boris Clancy’s strange behavior, equalled a red flag.
Then she drove back to town and stopped in at Gretel’s Café. Gretel was a newcomer to town, the sister of Dr. Bethany Morrison. A reformed party girl, she’d set herself the challenge of surviving an Alaska winter and in the process, fallen in love with her nex
t door neighbor, Zander Ross.
“Are you ready for winter number two?” Maya asked her as she ordered her favorite hazelnut latte.
“Is anyone ever really ready for an Alaskan winter?” she said with an impish smile. Gretel was a tiny and free-spirited blond who always made Maya feel kind of earthbound.
“Good point.” She accepted her to-go cup and offered payment, which Gretel waved off, as always. Maya stuffed the five dollar bill in the tip jar instead. “It’s a shock every year.” She stirred an extra dose of sugar into the cup and shot a quick glance behind her to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “Gretel, can I ask you a couple of questions?”
Gretel’s turquoise eyes widened in alarm. “Did my license lapse? Did the last open mic night get too loud? Old Crow really got into that sea shanty he was singing. I knew a drum circle would be a bad idea. It won’t happen again.”
“No no, nothing like that. Although now that you mention it, the drum circle would be much better on the beach.”
“I totally agree. My ears are still ringing. So what’s it about?”
“You get a lot of teenagers in here.”
“I get all the teenagers.” Gretel rolled her eyes. “And they all run tabs, and I’m too much of a wuss to say anything.”
“Want me to talk to them?”
“No, I just have to ovary up.” A twinkling smile lit up her face. “The bright side is I get to eavesdrop on some juicy teenage drama.”
“Which is exactly why I came to you. Have you heard anything about a new hangout place? Or a make-out spot? Some place where the kids secretly get together?”
“All I hear about is bonfires on the beach. I haven’t heard about anything else. Why?”
Maya shrugged and tested her coffee. “Just ruling out possibilities. What about Boris Clancy? Have you seen much of him lately?”
Gretel’s fine eyebrows came together in a frown. “As a matter of fact, no. Is he okay? I’ve been saving food scraps for his chicken.”
So something was going on with Boris. He relied on his routine, and for him to miss his weekly trip to Gretel’s Café was a very loud alarm bell.
“I’m not sure what’s going on with Boris, but if you see him, give me a call. I want to talk to him in a relaxed environment.”
“I will,” Gretel promised. “And if I hear anything about teenage miscreants, I’ll let you know. They tend to forget that I’m not their age, so I hear a few things.”
“Consider yourself an unofficial undercover officer.” Maya toasted her with her coffee cup. “Lord knows none of them are going to talk to me.”
Gretel smiled and waved goodbye, turning her attention to her next customer. Who—Maya realized with a shock—was Alastair Dougal, the man who’d gone to Lost Souls Wilderness to investigate his sister’s plane crash. Wasn’t he supposed to be in New York?
“Chief Badger.” Alastair addressed her with a formal nod of his head. “They told me I’d find you here.”
“Alastair Dougal. I heard you went back to New York.”
“I just got back,” he said in his soft Scottish brogue. “Can we talk for a few minutes?”
She glanced around the Café, which was still mostly empty except for two Coasties warming up with hot coffee in the corner. “Sure.” She beckoned toward the most private table available.
“How’ve you been doing?” she asked, warming her hands on her mug.
“It’s been a bit of a roller coaster. Seeing the wreckage of my sister’s plane for myself was…tough. But I was finally able to hold a proper burial. That was helpful. Then I was informed the FBI dropped the investigation. Rather infuriating.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Lack of evidence, they say.”
The doubt in his voice made her jump to the FBI’s defense. “That, and there’s two feet of snow out there now. It’s hard to investigate anything in the wilderness in the winter.”
He ran a hand through his thick black hair. “I’m not here to push for anything. I’ll go out there myself. I did it before and I can do it again. I’m not giving up.”
Watching him, sympathizing with his frustration, she took a sip of her coffee. “What else are you planning? All the official reports are in. There’s nothing to pursue.”
“So you’re ready to give up as well? When there’s clearly something fishy going on out there?” His voice rose in frustration.
“Mr. Dougal—”
“Alastair.”
“Alastair, what do you want from me?” She set her mug down with a click. “Lost Souls Wilderness isn’t my jurisdiction.”
“So you’re giving up.” He shoved his chair back, ready to go. “Good to know.”
“Hey, hey.” If nothing else, Maya wanted to know what had brought him back here in the middle of winter. “I haven’t closed the file. You must have something to tell me, so why don’t you and we’ll go from there?”
He sat back down and scanned her face for a long moment, then seemed to come to a decision.
“I’m betting that you want to crack this case as much as I do.” He pulled out his phone and shoved it across the table at her. “Right after I got back to New York, I got this text.”
She scanned the message. It said, Half mil delivered. Don’t come back.
“Half mil? As in dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Someone sent you half a million dollars?”
“They did. It’s in my account. I tried to figure out where it came from but I couldn’t. I don’t know what the hell to do with it, but I’m not touching it.”
“You need to report it.”
“That’s what I’m doing right now. I’m reporting it to you. My local authorities know nothing about the investigation, but you do. Also…” He hesitated, worry in his eyes. “If someone is sophisticated enough to transfer that much money to me, what else can they falsify? It’s a bit unnerving to say the least.”
She nodded slowly. “You think they’re trying to set you up somehow?”
“To keep me in line, yes. So I don’t push this investigation any further. That’s my theory.”
“I’m no forensic accountant,” she told him. “That’s who you’d need to figure out who sent that money. It’s most likely a series of shell companies and LLCs, possibly registered in other countries. It’s obviously not my area of expertise.”
“I realize that. That’s not why I’m here.”
She cocked her head, waiting.
“It’s just information I think you should have. You seem like a dedicated officer who won’t just take the easy way out.”
Inwardly, she flinched. Was that really true? Agent Clement had warned her to stand down, and she had. Mostly.
“Whoever the people are who shot down Caroline’s plane, they have lots of money. And they’re not just backwoods folks protecting their territory. To pull off a secret anonymous transfer of that much money, that takes a high degree of sophistication and funding.”
Very true. And very alarming.
“Whoever sent you the money, they don’t want you to go back to Lost Souls,” she said. “And yet you’re here. Why?”
“I don’t like anonymous threats, even when they’re accompanied with half a million dollars.”
“So you’re willing to defy this extortion attempt.”
His expression brightened. “You sound like you have an idea. Whatever it is, count me in, Chief.”
Maya drew in a breath. Alastair was right about her, damn him. She didn’t want to give up on the case, even if the Feds had. The huge sum of money connected the dots to Aurora Lodge. What had Rune said? Rich people aren’t like you and me. They can twist the world to however they want it to be.
She thought about the last time she’d been in Lost Souls, when she’d hitched a ride on a Forest Service helicopter to pick up Jessica and Ethan at the Aurora Lodge. As she’d chatted with Jessica, she’d noticed someone watching them from the forest through binoculars. They’d seen her.
But had they identified her?She hadn’t been wearing her uniform. Maybe they’d seen a random black girl and decided she had no significant role to play.
That could be a plus for the trip out there.
“As a matter of fact, I do. But not as police chief. I’m planning a trip to Aurora Lodge just before Christmas. It’s cover for doing some more digging. You can join us if you like.”
“Aurora Lodge? How’d you swing that?”
“We’re bringing Kelsey Lewis’ daughter with us. It’s a chance for them to see each other.”
An odd expression flitted across his face. “You mean the baby my sister was planning to adopt.”
“That’s right.”
“I’d like to meet her myself,” Alastair said softly. “In another world, I’d be her uncle now. I’d probably spoil her silly with gifts from all the airports I travel through.”
“So you’re in?”
“Bloody right I am.”
She finished her coffee and got ready to go. “I can’t guarantee any answers. The Feds already think I’ve wasted their time. I’m risking my reputation, to be honest.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Some risks are worth it. Thanks for taking this on.”
Chapter 28
“I invited someone else on our Aurora Lodge Christmas trip.”
Maya relayed this information from the other end of the bathtub. He could barely see her through the billowing piles of fragrant bubbles. Her hair was piled on top of her head, with a silk bandanna protecting it from the water. Candlelight flickered over the skin of her face and shoulders, giving it a rich burnished bronze glow.
“Someone safe and definitely not Cara’s stalker?”
“I already ran a background check. He’s clear.”
“This is shaping up to be the ultimate holiday party of the season.”
“Yes, it is. Jessica’s already got all the menus planned out. She’s packing up boxes of ingredients. I scheduled my time off from the station, I’m good to go.”
Head over Heels for the Holidays Page 20
