All My Exes Live in Texas

by Aimee Gilchrist

  "Well, that sounds like a close call," Connie said ingratiatingly.

  I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. Connie was making my teeth grind. I needed a painkiller and bed, in that order, before I was ready to deal with the likes of her.

  "Who do you think might have started the fire?" she asked.

  Dwight looked as aggravated as we were by her questions. He knew very well that even if Aodhagan was a murderer, he'd never be as irresponsible as to resort to arson. It might hurt Birdwell, which was something he would never do.

  Aodhagan shrugged. "I'd assume it was whoever killed Carl. I can't imagine who else would start my house on fire."

  Thing Two spoke, making me jolt from a combination of adrenaline and exhaustion. I just simply hadn't expected either of them to talk. "Why would they want to hurt you?"

  "If I had to guess, it would be because they are aware I'm the sheriff and I've been asking questions."

  All three of them eyed each other, and Connie spoke disapprovingly. "This is our case."

  Aodhagan cocked his head. "And this is my town." There was no give in his voice. "The things that happen here matter to me. Especially if all of these people are going to be staying here even part of the time to run the new plant. I refuse to stand back and let people commit crimes because it's someone else's problem. And nothing you say is going to change my mind about that. And if you arrest me for being sheriff and doing what a sheriff does, I'll get out and go right back to it. So how about we skip all of this your case or mine and agree that we need to figure this thing out."

  I figured a slow clap would be frowned upon, but I certainly felt like giving one. Birdwell did need the Crowe's money, but they didn't need their problems. Aodhagan was right to worry about Birdwell first. Dwight nodded at Aodhagan approvingly.

  Connie's mouth pressed, but she nodded. "Just stay out of our way. If I have to, I will arrest you if you cause too much trouble."

  It usually wasn't Aodhagan starting the trouble around here. He was the one who fixed it. It was either me or some other crazy Birdwellian who started things. But I had no intention of doing anything with the Crowe family and crew unless Aodhagan was with me. Primarily because I didn't trust them. They weren't the kind of people we'd dealt with the last time we'd investigated a murder. Though the fire had failed, that didn't mean it wasn't a good plan. If not for the vase, we'd have been trapped inside. In theory, we could get out the glass doors upstairs and jump off the balcony, but that wasn't particularly safe and would have required that we find out in time to get out safely. It wasn't Joe Don and his buckshot this time, like it had been when we'd investigated my aunt's murder six months before.

  Aodhagan's mouth pressed, and I could tell he wasn't particularly interested in Connie's definition of what constituted causing too much trouble. But he added his own nod to the growing tally. I assumed all this nodding meant we all had an understanding, at least for the moment.

  "Have you been to Dallas to talk to the people at the Crowe Appliances corporate office?" I requested.

  Connie finally looked at me for the first time since she'd arrived. "Why would we do that?"

  I stared at her, trying to figure out if she was serious or not. I decided she wasn't. She was just trying to get some kind of reaction out of me. I just shrugged, as I was too tired to bother playing her games. Maybe when it wasn't the middle of the night I'd be willing to have another go at it.

  She flashed me a small smile. I resorted to breathing slowly in through my nose and out through my mouth before I lost my mind on all of them. It wasn't exactly meditation, but I could feel my blood pressure finally lowering.

  Aodhagan glanced at the clock. "It's the middle of the night. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave. If you have any other questions, you can come back after eight."

  The idea of waking up at eight gave me physical pains, but we had things to do. There were a lot of people in the Crowe crew we hadn't yet spoken to and lots of questions without answers, and I wanted them. But first I just wanted to lie down.

  I could feel the disapproval rolling off Connie and her thugs, but she merely shrugged and stood up. "We'll be back," she said, and I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be comforting or a warning.

  When they were gone, Dwight followed up with a couple of questions of his own. "What you been doing, son?"

  Aodhagan shrugged. "We flew out to the Crowe corporate offices yesterday morning. Then we let members of the Crowe group in on the fact that we'd done that. I'm assuming someone didn't take kindly to that choice."

  "Did you find out anything worth knowing?" he asked.

  "Enough to move on to the next set of questions. We found out that Carl left all his liquid assets to a cat sanctuary in Houston. We aren't sure why. We also found that he was considering selling the business."

  Dwight nodded. "Well, you go on about your business because I know you will, but maybe try to stay out of trouble."

  It seemed pointless to tell him we weren't trying to get into trouble in the first place and someone still started the house on fire. We both just nodded, so I assumed Aodhagan was having the same thought. We bid Dwight good night, or good morning, whichever, and he left. Aodhagan locked the door behind him, and I had to wonder if he'd taken to locking the door all the time after Penny's murder or if he'd just picked it up again when the next murder came along.

  We trudged up the stairs, and I was dragging hard. Utter exhaustion was a lot when combined with stairs and cut up feet.

  At the top, Aodhagan paused. "Look, it's a lot to ask, but I'd really rather we were in the same room. It's the only way I'm likely to get any rest, considering. Can you just sleep the rest of the night with me?"

  In one way it would probably be safer, but I'd be an idiot to do it. I was already on the verge of reconsidering my whole no-romance status, and waking up with him was way too appealing. I sighed. "Yeah, okay."

  It wasn't that I was weak. I just wanted to feel safe. At least, that's what I could tell myself. If it got me through the night.

  Aodhagan's bed was rumpled and warm and thankfully not full of cabbage rose ruffles and down. I crawled into the left side of the bed instinctively, not wondering if it was his side until I was comfortably inside. "Is this your side?" It was kind of a pointless question. I had no intention of moving.

  As though he could read my mind, the left side of his mouth cocked. "Nope. You're good." He got under the blankets beside me. "You weren't going to move, were you?"

  I shook my head, and he laughed. When we were both physically comfortable, he turned toward me. I wasn't emotionally comfortable. This seemed like a stupid idea. But if it meant getting sleep, I was all for it. And a ridiculous little part of me just wanted to be with Aodhagan when I woke up in the morning.

  "Are you in pain?"

  "No. You?"

  He shook his head. "Not too much. A little uncomfortable. Don't go anywhere without waking me up first, okay?"

  I had to laugh at that. "You know you'll be up like an hour before me, running and making pancakes or some crap, right?"

  "Good." He gave me one final smile and turned off the bedside lamp.

  I lay in the dark, my eyes open wide, listening to Aodhagan breathing and thinking about a million things. The motives and meanings of the Crowe crew and their behaviors, the could-have-beens of the fire, and the solid and warm presence of Aodhagan, handy right beside me in bed.

  After about fifteen minutes, Aodhagan's muffled voice came from under the blanket. "Go to sleep, Helen."

  So I did.

  It was light streaming through the window that woke me up in the morning. Surprisingly, I was up before Aodhagan. I couldn't even figure out what time it was. I could get up and try to find my phone so I could figure out what time it was, or I could just lie there and stare at a sleeping Aodhagan. Naturally, I elected to go for the latter option, watching his chest rise and fall with his steady breaths. He made an adorable little noise when he slept that wasn'
t exactly snoring, more like snuffling. He was so hot it was ridiculous. I'd like to think it wasn't my staring that woke him up, but who knew.

  He opened his eyes, clearly disoriented. I could see for a moment he wasn't sure where I'd come from or why. Reality set in, and he smiled at me slightly. "No new fires, I see."

  I shook my head. I didn't speak at all because I had something stuck in my throat. It was probably my heart trying to escape and go where it seemed to think it belonged. I would probably have to beat it into submission. In a minute or two.

  His mouth quirked. "Why are you staring at me?"

  I almost told him it was because he was so stupid hot. But instead I said the absolute worst thing for keeping my standards. "I'm reevaluating my stance on relationships."

  His eyebrows arched. "I see. And what is your new opinion?"

  I shook my head slightly. "I don't know. I can't think straight."

  "Are you going to be pissed at me if I kiss you again?" he asked, his voice rough and low with sleep and what I liked to think was lust.

  It was a reasonable question. "I'm not sure. Ask me after."

  He nodded. "That's insane. I'll take it."

  And then his mouth was on mine. It was perfect. Soft, teasing, seductive. Endless. Until I was the one flexing my fingers around his T-shirt, demanding he open up and give me more. He did. In so little time it was dizzying, he had me underneath him and under his spell, making out like desperate teenagers. I wanted him so bad it was so incredibly stupid. He was touching me in ways that definitely should not have been okay, if I intended to have even the possibility of returning to my standards of not dating. I didn't stop him. I touched back.

  Our only means of communication were strained, panting breaths and low moans that we just weren't thinking hard enough to restrain. It wasn't until I heard the doorbell ringing that reality and some semblance of sense returned to me in a giant slam of ugly truth. I sucked at keeping my standards. Aodhagan's hand was in my pants, and I was pawing at his shirt, about to pull it off.

  I moaned, in humiliation this time. Why was I so bad at doing what I knew was right? The doorbell rang again. "I'm not rethinking my stance to the hand in pants level," I whispered throatily. I was. I had been. But I didn't want him to know that.

  He pulled in a hard breath and rolled over, staring at the ceiling while someone continued to ring the doorbell. "Understood." He sounded like he did understand. Which just made it worse.

  He adjusted himself in his pajamas and got out of bed, headed for the door. I spent a long moment listening to the music of someone ringing the bell with increasing energy and tried to get control of myself. What exactly was my policy? I'd said nothing. No holding hands, even. No kissing, no dating. But what if I let up just a little? I couldn't ruin Aodhagan or realize there really were no more decent men, even in my imagination, if we kept it just physical, could I? I had to think of my policy, aside from the fact I was half in love with him and I very well knew it. No, I really couldn't keep it separated. I was too big of an idiot. I might be half in love with him now, but if I was allowing him inside of me in any way, he'd be inside of me in every possible way, and then I'd be in trouble.

  I just couldn't do it. But good Lord did I want to.

  I pulled in a hard breath and let it out slowly. I pressed my eyes together hard then opened them and stared at the unending whiteness of the ceiling. It had probably been painted something pretentious like "soft eggshell." It took a couple of minutes to get myself under control. I could hear voices floating up, and I should probably have gone to see what was going on. Eventually, I managed to get myself on my feet and out of the bed. In every way—sleep, Aodhagan, oblivion—the bed was exactly where I wanted to be. I took another deep breath and headed out of the room, readying myself for whatever was at the bottom of the stairs.

  I wasn't ready enough. Another push of air escaped me when I saw it was Connie B. and crew again. They had said they would be back, but I had hoped they were speaking figuratively. Or maybe they would just forget us. But nope. They were back. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Connie looked from me to Aodhagan and back again, her eyebrows arching slightly. A smile played at her mouth, and I assumed it was fairly obvious what we'd been up to when she arrived.

  "Well, I'm sure you two want to…um, get more presentable. How about we wait in the living room?"

  Aodhagan shrugged, and I could tell he didn't care what she did. He was a man defeated at the moment, and I assumed a large part of that was my inability to stick to my guns. I felt terrible for being weak. Not for me but for Aodhagan. He waved a hand toward the living room and trudged back upstairs without a word. I sighed, following behind him.

  At the top of the stairs, he touched my arm. "So what's the verdict? Are you pissed at me for kissing you again?"

  I bit my bottom lip. "No. I was never going to be. Are you mad at me?"

  He was clearly startled by the question. "Why would I be?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know. Because I can't make up my mind."

  He licked his lips. "You can choose anything you want, even if you change that choice immediately after making it. It's your body. Do what you want with it. If you're willing to let me participate in doing things with it, I'm obviously going to be so, so into that because you are the hottest, smartest, possibly most amazing person I've ever met. But you don't owe me anything at all."

  I loved him more suddenly. "Ask again later," I whispered, betraying myself and making his life harder probably. "You're aware of how I am. I might change my mind."

  He smiled and started to turn toward his door. I grabbed his arm.

  "I'm sorry. You do know that it isn't you, don't you? It sounds like a cliché, but it's really just me."

  His smile wrapped around my heart and gave it a sharp jerk in his direction. "I would never blame you." I guessed the way I was staring at him delivered a similar message to earlier, and he cleared his throat. "I'm cool with anything you do, Helen." He pointed below his waistband. "I think he's kind of going to be a dick about it, though."

  As he'd clearly intended, the words made me bark out a thunderous laugh. It was certainly loud enough that Connie and her thugs had to be able to hear it. I cleared my throat and flashed him another smile. "We better get back downstairs before Connie starts going through your drawers."

  "I don't think I want Connie in my drawers," he responded with a grin, ducking into his bedroom and shutting the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I went into my temporary room and changed into my last clean outfit. I would need to get more clothes or find a way to get these to the cleaners in between all the other things we were doing. There was a dry cleaner in Boothe, and I'd never gotten past the need to dry clean my clothes instead of throwing them in a washer. Old habits died hard. Harder than my cashmere sweaters would if they ever ended up in a dryer.

  When I padded downstairs, Lucky nipping hard at my heels with his little demon teeth, Aodhagan was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs and Connie and the Things were on the love seat again, as though we all had assigned seats. I took mine and folded my arms over my chest. No one was speaking, and I wasn't about to start the flow. They'd been talking about something before I came. I wasn't here to interrupt. Well, actually, I would have been fine with interrupting if the time were right. It was kind of the way I rolled. But now wasn't that time.

  Connie just stared at me for a long time. I stared back, one eyebrow slowly rising. "What?"

  She shook her head.

  I felt her eyes on my neck for a long second, and I touched it, feeling the vague pain of a bruise. Aodhagan had given me a hickey. I scowled at him and then at Connie.

  "What do you want?" I demanded, losing my patience.

  Her mouth curved down. "I'm sorry. I clearly interrupted you this morning. I didn't realize you were…" She cleared her throat, waving a hand around. "Busy."

  "Just get to the point," Aodhagan said, being rude for one of the firs
t times I had ever seen.

  Connie's mouth pressed. "Look, clearly you are not the person who killed Carl Crowe, but someone still did. At present we have the state police, the county police, and the local Birdwell sheriff's office investigating the same crime. Obviously the state police have jurisdiction on this case, but that doesn't mean that we couldn't use a bit of help or that we couldn't offer you some information you might be able to use."

  I wasn't sure if she'd just decided that Aodhagan hadn't murdered Carl because she'd come upon us making out or if she'd decided before today. If she had, I would have liked to know when. Was it before or after she'd acted like we'd started our own fire? Before or after she followed us? Before or after we told her we'd been to Dallas? I just had so many questions. Why had she changed her mind? Was it just his clear lack of interest in Vi sexually? I couldn't begin to guess. And if she was sincere about all of us working together, why hadn't she invited Dwight?

  I could tell from Aodhagan's face that he also wasn't sure what her motivations were in putting forward this particular offer. I couldn't guess if he would agree or not. It was hit or miss with him when it came to Connie. I thought he might though, because getting a killer out of town would only benefit Birdwell, and he wouldn't be happy until he sacrificed everything to fix Birdwell. Including the comfort of not being partners with Connie B.

  "We need to more clearly define specifically what this partnership would entail. What do you hope to achieve by pairing with us? What do you think that we will offer you, and what exactly do you think you have to offer us?"

  I could see how aggravated Connie was, but she folded her hands in her lap. "For one we could offer you the coroner's and toxicology reports. I know you haven't seen them because we took the body from your local coroner."