“Fuck you,” she exploded, struggling against him. “You have got to be kidding me.”
He turned her toward his truck. “Nope. Look at the bright side.” All smooth muscle, he lifted her over an outcropping of rocks without breaking stride. “Now we can get closure.”
***
Brett sat back in his chair and plopped his boots onto his battered metal desk, his gaze on his ex-wife. She sat in the cell, arms crossed, shooting pure hell at him through stunning eyes.
Brown eyes, black hair, fiery temper. God, he’d missed her.
For now, he had her exactly where he wanted her, and he intended to make good use of his time. “Why were you trespassing on Phillip MacKay’s land?” he asked.
She somehow glared harder.
He bit back a smile. “Your face could stick like that, you know.”
“Screw you,” she said quietly but with impressive authority.
He let the grin loose. “Still as feisty as ever, I see.” They hadn’t seen each other in ten years, which made her what? Twenty-seven? Yeah, they’d married young when they thought they had to, and when she’d lost the baby, she’d escaped the small town. He’d never blamed her for that. “Are you enjoying your time in Nevada?” he asked.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Guest lecturing at Nevada Desert for a semester and taking a sabbatical from the National Geological Foundation has been a lot of fun, actually.” Slim fingers wrapped around the bars.
He shoved down at groan, remembering full well how those fingers had felt wrapped around him, even so many years later. “I’m surprised you’re the sabbatical type.”
“No, but my boss forced me into a vacation.”
“Good.” Brett smiled.
She blinked, and a cute frown wrinkled between her brows. “Let me out of the cell, Brett.”
“You want out?” he asked.
Her stubborn chin lifted again. “Yes.” Then she waited, daring him. Definitely daring him.
This was the most fun he’d had in years. “Fine. I’ll make you a deal.”
Her lip curled. “No deal.”
He shrugged. “If I tell MacKay that I caught the trespassers he called 911 about, then he’ll press charges. If I don’t tell him, he won’t know about you.”
She lowered her chin. “You’re going to blackmail me?”
He wouldn’t, but interest lingered in her eyes. “Sure. Why not? Agree to one date with me. You do that, and I’ll forget all about the trespass.”
She huffed out air. “Wait a minute. I’m thinking it’s not much of a coincidence you and I are facing each other in Nevada again.”
He kept his face stoic. “No.”
Her nostrils flared. “What did you do?”
He shrugged. “When Samuel mentioned you were going on a sabbatical—”
She lifted her head. “Samuel? As in Samuel Kelso, my boss at the NGF?” Her gaze narrowed.
Man, she was pretty when riled. “Yes. You know Samuel served in the marines, right?”
“You’re kidding me. You know Samuel.”
“Yes.” Brett smiled. “We served together.”
Steam might soon come out of her head. “I’ve worked with Samuel for five years, and not once has he mentioned you. You’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
He wouldn’t lie to her now. “Yes.”
Her mouth dropped open. “For how long?”
This time, he paused. “Ah.”
“How long, Brett?” Her pitch rose this time.
He leaned toward her. Always.” Yeah, they’d both needed time to grow up, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten her. “I care about you. Always have.”
Her eyes softened. “You just put me in jail.”
“You’re cute in jail.” True words.
She shook her head. “So you heard about my sabbatical.”
“Yes. Samuel said you’d fulfilled your most recent grant requirements and had planned a sabbatical until grant cycle came around again. I have friends at the college, figured you’d jump at the chance to study meteorites, and they created the special courses for you.”
“Why?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I figured at some point we’d give it another shot, and the opportunity arose. What do you think?”
“I sure didn’t expect to be arrested by you.”
“That was fortuitous, now wasn’t it?” He leaned back and pinned her with a gaze. “How about we give us another shot?”
Intrigue filled her eyes. “Let’s start with blackmail and one date tomorrow night. But we are not going to have fun.”
That’s what she thought. He bit back a smile as he stood to release her.
For now.
Chapter 2
After a sleepless night and a busy day, Sharon finished putting away her lecture notes as the advanced class filed out, much quicker than usual. Ah. Spring Break. She smiled and shut down her power point presentation. Her mind had been filled with Brett Pierce all day, and she needed to get a grip.
Brett had been her boyfriend from third grade until graduation. Their first time together had been beneath a full sky of stars, and sometimes even now she wondered if it had been as good as she’d thought. Of course, then she’d gotten pregnant.
They’d gotten married, as was the way in their small southern town so many miles away from where they’d both ended up. Then when she’d lost the baby, she’d been devastated. It was a miscarriage at three months, which wasn’t uncommon.
So she’d run. To a different life and an education. But sometimes…she wondered. What if she’d stayed?
A throat clearing tore her from daydreams, and she glanced toward the door at the back. “Tim. How was the intro class earlier?” Tim taught three of the Intro classes and seemed to enjoy the job, although she had almost gotten him arrested again.
“Fine. Did you get arrested?” Tim loped down the center of the lines of desks and dropped into a seat. His T-shirt stretched across a wide chest, although with his height he seemed more slim than built.
She grinned and shook her head. “Nope. You and I are record free, my friend. Now, about your class?”
Tim nodded. “It went well. We cut into the smaller meteorite, and I gave everyone a piece after we studied the rock.”
“Was it made of Iron or Stony Iron?” she asked, tucking her files under her arm.
“Iron.” He smiled a row of even white teeth. “With a mineral that seemed like salt. I had everyone take a quick taste—using your directive of all five senses, of course.”
She laughed. “I usually don’t go that far.” Something to think about, however.
Tim grinned. “I managed to get enough pieces out of it for the whole class. Gave an extra-large one to Louise Patterson, since she brought donuts again.”
Sharon chuckled. “Smart girl. You know she’s interested in you, right?”
Tim smoothed down his dark T-shirt. “I don’t know.” He rubbed his eye. “Man, I’m fighting a raging headache. I hope nothing is going around.”
“Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll finish up here,” Sharon said, noting his pallor.
“Thanks.” He planted his hand against his stomach and strode toward the door. At the doorway, he glanced back. “When are you cutting into your rock?”
“After Spring Break,” Sharon murmured. The guy looked like he might throw up. “Are you traveling?”
“Nope,” he said. “I’m staying here. Talk to you later.”
She nodded and waited until he’d cleared the doorway. Hopefully the flu wasn’t going around. She didn’t have time to get sick.
With a shrug, she shook her head and trumped through the empty classroom. Now she had to steel herself to meet with Brett again. In the years since she left, she hadn’t loved anyone like she’d loved him
They could not go back. Yet…what about forward?
***
Brett leaned back in his chair and eyed the two battered men in the cell. Broad as barns and twice as thick-headed,
the brothers had once again gotten in a brawl at Red’s Tavern, and before supper. “I should call your mama this time.”
Bud Blare jumped for the bars, wrapping sausage-sized fingers around the steel. “Oh, Sheriff. You wouldn’t do that to a friend, would you?”
His brother, Buck, sidled up to his side. “We didn’t mean nothin’ by the fight.”
Brett shook his head. “You’re both forty years old, for Christ’s sake.”
“Thirty-nine,” the men said in unison.
“Then fucking act like it.” Brett tried to sum up anger, but truth be told, if the Blare brothers didn’t get in a brawl once in a while, he’d be bored out of his mind. Between an occasional bar fight or car wreck, his keeping of the peace was a soothing job. One he’d worked hard to deserve.
Buck fingered a rapidly swelling cheekbone. “Ya didn’t have to punch me, Brett.”
The fool had been swinging a broken bottle at Brett’s head at the time. “You’re lucky I didn’t break your damn neck.” He could’ve, easily, and the thought rose bile to his throat. He wasn’t that guy. Not anymore. His time in the service had ended, and he was ready to settle down for good.
Bud shoulder-checked his brother. “You sure can fight, can’t you?”
Shit, yeah. He’d learned to fight as a kid from a dad who liked to hit, and then the military had honed his skills. “Yes, but next time, I’m definitely calling Mother Blare. It isn’t even suppertime.” He dropped his boots to the floor and crossed to unlock the cell, making the same threat he’d made for the last two years.
The brothers trumped out, and Bud slapped him on the back. “How about we hit the diner? Supper is on us.”
“No thanks.” He glanced at the clock. One of his two deputies should be on the way soon to relieve him, and then he needed to get ready for dinner.
Buck snorted. “Why not? You got a hot date?”
Brett flashed him a smile. “Yeah.” A date that might be the beginning of a new life...one he wanted with a family and nice home. He’d never forgotten Sharon, and now she was in his town again. Maybe she’d stay with him this time.
His cell phone rang just as he exited the small station. He glanced at the face to see that Sharon was calling. He’d had her number for years, just in case. Oh, she better not be thinking of canceling on him. “Hello, Sharon.”
“Brett? Something is going on.” Tension rode her voice. “Within the last hour, ten students from the Intro to Meteorology class were all admitted to the hospital with some weird sickness. I’m headed that way now.”
A chill skittered down Brett’s back. “All ten? At the same time?”
“Yes. Can you meet me there?”
He broke into a run for his truck. “I’m on my way.”
***
Sharon jumped out of her rented SUV, her mind spinning. If it was just the morning class, they’d eaten donuts. Something had to be wrong with the donuts. She hustled inside the bright lights, stopping at a quaint welcoming desk and recognizing the receptionist, who moonlighted as a waitress at Sharon’s favorite diner in town. “Hi Helen. What the heck?”
Helen Ramridge pushed wild gray hair away from a classic face marred by mascara smudges. “Hell if I know. Group of students all from the same class. Doc is trying to track down Doris from the grocery about a bunch of donuts.”
“That’s what I figured.” Sharon stiffened as Brett stalked inside, instantly bringing the scent of male.
Helen arched an eyebrow, looked at Brett, glanced back at Sharon, and then smiled perfectly set dentures. “Mornin’, sheriff.”
“Helen,” Brett said. “What’s the story?”
“You tell me, hot stuff,” the ten times over grandma said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Sharon’s face heated, and she tried to look innocent.
Just then, Doc Baker stomped around the corridor to the room. Lines of fatigue cut into his weathered face, making the darker spots stand out. His faded blue eyes narrowed behind heavy spectacles, and he lifted dark gray eyebrows. “Sharon? You sick?”
She shook her head. “No. May of my students are, though.”
“Were you in the classroom with these kids?” Doc asked.
“No.” She rubbed her chin. “I didn’t eat a donut, either.” Her knees wobbled.
Brett grasped her arm and tugged her closer. “What’s the story, Doc?”
Doc scrubbed his head. “Dunno. The infection is localized, so I’m thinking it’s bacterial.”
“Like Salmonella or E-coli?” Sharon asked.
“Yeah, except not Salmonella or E-coli,” Doc said, sighing. “The locality is in the head. A migraine to the nth degree with a frighteningly increased fever.”
Sharon’s stomach clenched. Tom had been the one to call her with the news that he and the students were all in the hospital and in pain. “Meningitis?”
Doc rubbed scruffy whiskers. “That bacterium does attack the central nervous system, but this ain’t meningitis. I’ve seen that, and this is different.”
Brett rubbed her arm. “How bad are the kids?”
Doc scratched his elbow. “Right now, the fevers concern me the most. One kid went into convulsions, but we got her hydrated.” An alarm blared, and he blanched. “Shit. Gotta go.” He pivoted on scratched cowboy boots and rushed back down the corridor.
“Can I see the kids?” Sharon asked.
“No.” Helen nodded toward the four chairs in the empty waiting room. “Not until we have an idea of what this is.”
Brett gently drew her toward a chair. “I need to call the school. We should be notifying parents.” He waited for her nod, and then he headed back into the early morning air.
Sharon bit her lip. If it was just a bacterial infection from the donuts, antibiotics would be able to help. But unease still caught in her throat. What kind of bacterial infection mimicked a migraine? Not even meningitis presented that way. Slowly, she drew her phone from her pocket. It wasn’t too late on the east coast. She pressed FACETIME and waited until a familiar face came onto the screen.
“Why are you calling so late?” Lynne Harmony asked, frowning into the phone.
Sharon grinned at one of her friends from graduate school. “It’s not that late. I’m calling you first and Nora next.” The two women were brilliant at their jobs and both had specialties she didn’t study. “Are you at work?”
“Of course.” Lynne’s green eyes sparkled. “Don’t tell me. You finally gathered enough courage to seek out Brett Pierce and give in to the true reason you’re taking your sabbatical in the middle of nowhere.”
Sharon’s face heated again. “Yes, and we’ll talk about that later. For now, is there a bacterial infection that presents in the head?”
Lynne pursed her lips. “Meningitis presents in the central nervous system,” she said, her smile disappearing. “There are others. Why?”
Sharon cleared her throat. Calling Lynne at work was probably premature. “We have ten kids suddenly down with a fever, and we think they all ate from the same batch of donuts earlier today. Incredible head pain and high fevers.”
Lynne nodded. “That sounds like some type of food poisoning. How bad are the stomach cramps?”
“There aren’t any,” Sharon mused.
Lynne stilled. “None?”
“No.”
“No nausea, throwing up, aches or pains in the digestive system?” Lynne asked.
“No.” Sharon shook her head. “Just pain in the skull and fever.”
Lynne bit her lip. “That is odd.” She glanced at something off screen. “Tell you what. Keep an eye on it, and send some samples my way. We’ll take a look.” She leaned closer to the phone camera. “How is it being with your ex? I swear, between you and Nora both still mooning about men you’d left eons ago, I have to just wonder.”
Sharon blew out air. She and Nora had bonded over the fact that they’d both married and divorced way too young. “It’s weird seeing him as an adult. He’s tough and pretty hot.” Her fa
ce heated.
“Nice.” Lynne smiled and then frowned. “I so want details, but I have to run to a late meeting with drinks. Get the good facts together and we’ll dish later this week. Bye.” She clicked off.
Sharon put her phone in her purse. She’d jumped the gun in contacting the CDC, but sometimes, instinct ruled. Those kids had to be all right.
Soon, Brett came back inside and sat next to her, taking her hand in his. “Investigators from Vegas are heading to the grocery store and bakery to see what could’ve happened with the donuts,” he said. “I’ve had the college notify parents.”
Soon several parents and other students filled the waiting room. The doctor poked his head out around ten in the morning to say that none of the antibiotics seemed to be working, but three of the patients seemed to be getting better anyway. A collective hope filled the room.
#
Brett finished corralling people in the hospital waiting room, forcing everyone but immediate family to head home. He’d been in contact with the larger hospital in Vegas, which was sending an emergency team, but for now, they waited for the tests to come back. Within the last hour, three of the students were rapidly recovering while the others were not. The doctor was looking for how and why.
Why the infection or poison was hitting each student different, Brett didn’t know. His expertise had never lay in science. But the possibility existed that the poisoning, if that’s what it was, had been deliberate. So he’d been questioning people as he’d taken over the situation.
Finally, when he’d gotten everyone settled, he stepped through people to where Sharon sat in a chair by the window. Her hair curled wildly around her shoulders, and smudges darkened the skin under her eyes. Sitting with a cup in her hands, she looked lost. So he crouched down until they were eye-to-eye. “How are you?”
Her sigh moved her entire torso. “I’m all right. Confused and wish we had answers.”
Brett brushed a curl off her cheek, reassuring himself that she was all right. “You’re sure you didn’t come into contact with any of the donuts?” If it was the donuts. Teams were testing the bakery, and the empty donut box from the school had been sent to the lab. So far, no news.
Knight Awakening (The Scorpius Syndrome Book 6) Page 31
