by Delores Fossen, Rachel Lee, Carol Ericson, Tyler Anne Snell, Rita Herron
He scowled at his reflection. “So much for drying your clothes at Jolene’s.”
It was a good ruse for taking half his clothes off at her place, anyway. Not that it did him much good. If he wanted to get back into her good graces...and her bed, he’d have to take things slowly. He’d burned her once, and she wasn’t the type of woman who trusted easily—her mother’s abandonment and her father’s death had seen to that.
Then he had to pile on.
He shook his head like a dog, flinging drops of water inside the cab of the truck, and continued driving toward the station.
As he turned down the main street, he had to pull to the right for some emergency vehicles racing off to a call. A lot of people didn’t know how to drive in a storm like this.
He started forward again and turned into the parking lot of the Border Patrol station, small compared to the one in San Diego, but Paradiso saw lots of action.
He nabbed a parking spot near the front door, as a skeletal crew was on Sunday duty, and half of them had been at the casino shindig. He ducked into the building and hung the keys to the duty truck on the appropriate peg.
One of the new agents popped his head up from behind his computer monitor, his eyes wide. “Can you believe this storm?”
“It’s monsoon season. Get used to it and enjoy the rain while it lasts.”
Sam pulled up to his desk and brought up a map of the Yaqui land earmarked for the casino. He couldn’t find anything online about the casino plans—at least nothing detailed. What could’ve been on that map that someone hadn’t wanted Jolene to see?
He dug into his missing persons again, looking for any new links, but he just kept coming back to their involvement in the drug trade. They had to be dead, and their bodies had to be somewhere in the desert.
The phone jangled Sam’s nerves even more, and Agent Herrera picked up. The agent’s excited voice carried across the room.
When he hung up the phone, he scurried to Sam’s desk. “Big accident on the highway. Car skidded off the road and went into the wash, which happens to be swollen right now.”
Sam whipped his head around. “Did this just happen? I saw emergency vehicles on my way in.”
“That was something else. This is a car in the wash.”
A muscle ticked at the corner of Sam’s mouth. “The highway north? Because I came from the rez, and I didn’t see anything out that way.”
“Yeah, north and this happened after you arrived.”
“Do you know the make and model of the car?”
“Heard it on the radio—black truck.”
Sam’s heart thundered in his chest. “License plate?”
Herrera strode back to his desk and tapped his keyboard, a crease between his eyebrows. “No plates. The truck’s partially submerged in water.”
“Jolene Nighthawk drives a black truck, and when I left her, she was planning to head north on the highway.” Sam snatched the keys from the peg where he’d left them just about an hour ago. “I’m taking the truck out to the accident. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“Will do.”
Sam flew out of the station and got back in the truck. It took all his self-control not to speed off in the rain. He didn’t need to get into an accident on the way to the site of one.
He swatted at a bead of sweat rolling down his face. Just because it was monsoon season in the desert didn’t mean the temperatures dropped. The temps hovered in the high eighties despite the skies breaking open.
And he was feeling the heat.
As the storm moved through, the rain slacked off but his wipers were still working furiously to keep up with the water coursing across his windshield. He spotted the lights of the emergency vehicles before he could actually make out any shapes.
He eased off the accelerator and rolled to a stop behind a highway patrol car. Scrambling from his truck, he yanked out his ID and badge. As he passed the orange cones, an officer approached him and Sam flashed his badge.
“Any fatalities?”
The officer shook his head. “The woman escaped from her vehicle before it filled with water. It could’ve been a lot worse, but the wash isn’t deep enough yet for a car to be completely submerged.”
“Woman?” Sam got an adrenaline spike that made him dizzy. “She’s okay?”
“She’s a bit banged up, but she’s fine.” The officer pointed to two EMTs hovering at the back of their ambulance. “Over there.”
Sam strode to the ambulance, glancing to his right at Jolene’s black truck sitting upright in the water. As he approached, one of the EMTs stepped away to reveal Jolene sitting in the back of the ambulance, her feet dangling over the side.
Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Sam! What are you doing here?”
Warm relief washed through his body and he ate up the space between them in two long strides. He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Are you all right? I heard about the accident involving a truck north of town and immediately thought of you. What happened?”
Her gaze darted toward the EMT unwrapping the blood pressure cuff from her arm. “I skidded off the road. I think my brakes locked up.”
“Didn’t I tell you to get a new car the last time I was here?” His nerves caused his voice to come out louder than he’d intended and with a sharp edge.
Jolene disentangled her hands from his. “You told me a lot of things the last time you were in Paradiso.”
The EMT threw a sideways glance at Sam and said, “Ma’am, are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”
“I’m sure. The car slid off the road into the water, my airbag deployed and I was able to crawl out the passenger window. Just a few bumps with some bruises to follow, I’m sure.” She held up her arms, displaying a red rash from the airbag. “You checked my vitals and I’m fine, right? I didn’t hit my head, so no worries about a concussion.”
A crane lifted her car from the wash and water poured out the windows and cascaded from the chassis.
The EMT pointed to the mess. “You’re not driving off in that.”
“I’ve got a Border Patrol agent right here with his official truck to take me home.” She patted his arm. “Right, Sam?”
“Absolutely, as long as she doesn’t have any injuries and you don’t think she’s going to suffer any ill effects from the accident.”
The EMT shrugged. “Just bruising, like she said. She has a few scrapes from squeezing through the window and clambering up the cement walls of the wash, but she acted fast—buzzed down that window and got out.”
“Then we’re good.” Jolene hopped off the back of the ambulance and winced.
Sam caught her around the waist. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Trent here already checked out my ankle. I just twisted it.” She grimaced.
“Then you shouldn’t be jumping around on it.” Sam refused to release his hold on her, even though her body coiled away from his. “Do you need to talk to the cops?”
“They already got my statement—one car accident and no damage to public property.”
“In that case...” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to his truck while she chattered in his ear.
“This is ridiculous, Sam. I don’t need to be carried. Put me down, please.”
He swung open the door of his truck and placed her inside. He hovered over her, hanging on the frame of the vehicle as the last of the storm spit out its final raindrops on the back of his neck.
“Let someone else take charge for a change.” He leveled a finger at her. “You, sit.”
He stomped off to find the cops investigating the scene of the accident and grabbed the first one. “Do you need Jolene anymore?”
The officer asked, “Is she leaving in the ambulance?”
“She doesn’t want to go to the hospital
. The EMTs cleared her, and I’m going to take her home. What happened out here?”
“Pretty much what she told us. She was driving in the rain, going downhill so her speed probably picked up. Her brakes failed, she applied her parking brake and the car spun out and landed upright in the wash. She was lucky. She called in the accident herself.”
“That’s good to hear. Her car being towed to the yard?”
“Yeah, they’ll contact her, but it’s probably totaled.”
“Thanks.” Sam pivoted away, took a few steps and called over his shoulder. “Brakes failed, huh?”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
Sam’s boots crunched the soggy gravel as he returned to the truck. He climbed in and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Your brakes failed?”
“I stepped on the brake when I started going down the incline. Instead of slowing down, my car sort of whooshed forward. I didn’t want to stomp on the brake pedal in the rain, so I eased my foot down and when it hit the floor, I knew I was in trouble.”
A pain throbbed against his temple. “Were the brakes feeling squishy before? Squeaking?”
She tucked her hands beneath her thighs, and she hunched her shoulders as if warding off a shiver. “A little squishy, but I thought that was the rain.”
“Your car’s going to be towed to the police yard. It’s totaled.”
“The officers told me that. The tow truck driver gave me his info in case I need him for insurance purposes.” She tapped a damp business card on the console. “What are you implying? About the brakes, I mean?”
He started the truck’s engine and backed away from the patrol car before pulling onto the rain-slicked highway. “Brakes don’t usually up and fail. You know it’s coming. The pads go first, and you have that squishy, gummy feeling when you step on the brake. Brakes usually tell you they’re failing by squeaking.”
“So, if my brakes didn’t gradually go bad on their own, you’re thinking someone made them go bad all at once?” Her knees started bouncing, and he placed a hand on one of them.
“Your car was sitting at Granny Viv’s place while Wade was just there. Doesn’t he know something about cars?”
“He has a few classic cars he tinkers with.” She tilted her head. “I don’t think my cousin would try to kill me. Besides, I saw him leave Gran’s.”
“He could’ve come back or had someone else do it. You didn’t die. He couldn’t know the brakes would go out in that spot by the wash, or that your car would spin out.”
“If he wasn’t trying to kill me, you think he was trying to warn me?”
That prospect didn’t seem to bring her any comfort, as she laced her fingers together and twisted them.
“Maybe scare you off from interfering in casino business. He seems to know you were the one who planted the bones at the construction site. He knows you got your hands on that map and used it to throw a a into his opening ceremony.” Sam shoved a wet lock of hair from his forehead. “Wade Nighthawk is a man on a mission—and I don’t think he’s going to allow you or anyone else to stand in his way.”
“If he knows I left the bones there, he has to know they’re not going to come back as some ancient Yaqui.”
“He also knows you, Jolene. He knows you’re not going to give up. Maybe that accident was a little push to convince you to back off and leave it alone.”
“Why doesn’t he just tell me to my face?”
“Didn’t he try that already?”
“Yes.”
“He’s never going to admit that he’s behind any of this. He has a public persona to uphold, but make no mistake. If he had someone tamper with your brakes, he’s fired a warning shot.”
She gathered her hair in a ponytail and twisted it, squeezing out the water from the wash. “He should know better than that. I’m a Nighthawk.”
* * *
AS JOLENE LET Sam into her place, an ecstatic Chip circled their legs, his wet tail thumping out his welcome against the wall.
She patted his head. “He’s been outside. I must’ve left the dog door open.”
“Don’t worry about Chip.” He plucked at the sleeve of her blouse. “You’re soaked to the bone. I don’t care how warm it is. It’s not a good idea to walk around in wet clothes.”
“You should talk. I let you dry your clothes here and you got them all wet again.” As she straightened up from petting Chip, a pain stabbed the back of her neck and she grabbed it, squeezing her eyes closed.
“Whiplash?” He cupped her elbow and led her to the couch. “That’s why you go to the hospital when you’re in an accident like that one.”
“It’s fine. I just feel a little banged up.” She sank to the edge of the couch, her damp skirt clinging to her legs.
“You need a warm bath and a glass of wine.” He backed up, tugging on Chip’s collar. “Do you have any Epsom salt?”
“You’re serious. You’re going to run me a bath?” That’s what worried her about Sam. He was all in—until he wasn’t. He’d treated her like a princess, until he told her about his wife’s pregnancy. A wife he’d supposedly separated from six months before, even though she was just three months pregnant.
“You don’t climb out of an accident like yours and continue on as usual.” He removed his gun from his holster and unbuckled his equipment belt.
“Oh, you mean business.”
“I do. Stay there and relax.”
She called after him. “No Epsom salts.”
As Sam banged around in her bathroom, she twisted her head from side to side. Didn’t feel like whiplash to her. She’d tried to relax her body when it became clear her car was going into the wash.
Could Wade really be responsible? She could see him issuing a warning, but he’d never try to seriously hurt her, would he? His ambition knew no bounds. He had his eye on politics, and he moved in the right circles.
“Look what I found.” Sam returned to the living room with a pair of green Border Patrol sweats low on his hips, his upper body bare—again. When had he become such an exhibitionist?
She narrowed her eyes. “Where’d you find those?”
“Stuffed in your linen closet.” He tugged at the waistband, pulling them even lower. “I remember giving you a few pairs of these.”
“Yeah, I used to wear them.” She got up too fast and clutched the back of the couch in her dizziness.
“You’re not okay, Jolene. Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the emergency room?”
“No, thanks. You end up sicker from those places than you were when you walked in. I’m just a little rattled.”
He joined her at the couch and slipped an arm around her waist. The brush of his bare skin against her arm overwhelmed her senses and her dizziness returned with a vengeance.
She leaned into him, and he tightened his hold on her.
“Let me help you.”
He walked her into the master bathroom connected to her bedroom, past the pile of his wet clothes. A lilac-scented steam rose from the tub, foaming with bubbles.
“A bubble bath?”
“It’s the closest thing I could find to Epsom salts. You can inhale the lilac like an aromatherapy thing.” He’d flipped down the toilet seat and helped her sit.
When he reached around to unhook her skirt, she placed a hand on his arm. “I think I can get undressed by myself, Sam.”
“Really? I’m not going to leave you and then hear a thud as you keel over, am I?” He unhooked and unzipped her skirt. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”
She rested two fingers at the base of his throat where his pulse throbbed. “But you lost the privilege of seeing it all.”
His dark eyebrows jumped, and his pulse beat faster against the pads of her fingers. “I did—and it was a privilege.”
He stood up a
nd started to back out of the bathroom. “Call me if you need help. I’ll return with your wine.”
He shut the door before she could tell him he didn’t have to bring the wine—not that she didn’t need a glass or two about now. But she didn’t want to tempt him if he were still on the wagon—and it looked as if he was.
She finished undressing and slipped into the silky water, releasing a long breath as the bubbles enveloped her.
When she’d met Sam two years ago, he’d just stopped drinking. She’d seen him at her cousin’s AA meeting. She’d gone to a meeting with Melody to support her, and pretty much couldn’t take her eyes off the blue-eyed, black-haired man who’d looked so indestructible as he talked about the problems alcohol had brought to his life.
Her own father had won his battle with the bottle and had been the strongest man she knew.
Melody had played matchmaker, and her first date with Sam had morphed from a coffee to dinner and three hours of conversation. She’d been wary at first. When hadn’t she been wary with men? But Sam had won her over without even trying. Maybe it had been her desire to fix him. What grounded woman went into a relationship with a person battling addiction, even one in recovery, who’d just separated from his wife?
Sam tapped on the door. “Are you in the tub? No mishaps?”
“I managed to undress all by myself and climb in without toppling over.”
He nudged the door open with his toe, carrying two glasses—a red wine for her and some iced tea for him. He sat on the edge of the tub, and she scooted farther under the bubbles.
He handed her the glass. “How does that feel? I didn’t want to make it too hot.”
“It’s perfect, thank you.” She wrapped her fingers around the stem of the glass. “You didn’t need to bring me wine. Iced tea would’ve been okay.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He took a sip of his tea and shook the ice in his glass. “Twenty-seven months sober. Not even a slipup.”
“Congratulations. Melody, too.” She tipped some wine into her mouth, letting it pool on her tongue before swallowing it. “Do you still go to meetings?”
