Allison lifted her gaze to meet Zoe’s. “I was afraid you wouldn’t let me come with you.”
“Of course I would.” A little forewarning might have been nice.
A wan smile crossed the girl’s face. “I didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already are.”
When did Allison get so grown up?
The teen wandered over to the spot where she’d nearly bled to death. Zoe noticed her absentmindedly rubbing the scars on her wrists. Allison stood motionless, staring at the dirt, as if standing over a grave.
Zoe waited. Should she say something? Should she go stand next to the girl? Put an arm around her? But that would draw the attention of the kids still grooming their horses. Patsy already cast a puzzled gaze in her direction. Zoe mouthed, “It’s okay” at her.
Minutes later, Allison and Zoe sat side by side on the dusty tack room floor, leaning against the wall. Over the years, this had been the location of many of their intimate chats, although usually the topics had been more along the lines of scraped knees, bruised egos, and stupid boys.
Allison fingered a stray piece of hay. “I needed to come here and face this.” She looked over at Zoe. “But I didn’t want it to be a big deal. I was afraid you’d get all weirded out over it if I told you. I’m sorry.”
Zoe waved the apology away. “Did your mom know why you wanted to come out here?”
“No.” She smiled. “Maybe. Mom’s not as clueless as she used to be.”
Now it was Zoe’s turn to smile. Maybe Allison had matured beyond believing her mom was an idiot. “So how are you doing?”
The teen didn’t answer right away as she pondered the question. “Mostly good. A little shaky sometimes. Everything was so different out west, it was easy to pretend last winter never happened.” She studied the piece of hay. “Coming home didn’t really feel like coming home. Some stuff is the same. But Logan’s not here. Dad’s…not here.”
Zoe draped an arm around her shoulders. “Your mom, your grandmothers, and I are all here for you though. You know that, don’t you?”
“Oh, sure. I’m okay.” Allison shot a sideways glance at Zoe. “What I mean to say is while some stuff is the same, I’m not. I’m stronger.”
Zoe raised a clenched fist. “I am woman. Hear me roar.”
Allison laughed. “Exactly.” She tossed the piece of hay. “I think I’m ready to come back here to ride without getting all whacked.”
“Good. How about tomorrow? You. Me. Patsy.”
“Maybe.” Allison shifted to face Zoe. “Yeah. Definitely. Life’s too short to put stuff off, right? Look what happened to Jason.”
A knot rose in Zoe’s throat. “Your mom said Jason and Logan were good friends.”
A faraway look clouded Allison’s eyes. “Yeah. Jason was super nice. And cute. Really cute.”
Zoe caught the girl’s emphasis on really. “You liked him.”
Allison nodded. “A lot. And I think he liked me too.”
Zoe waited for more.
“I think he and I might’ve, you know, gotten together. Except…”
“You got mixed up with Matt,” Zoe said.
“That too. I guess Jason and I both got mixed up with the wrong people. Me with Matt.” Allison shook her head sadly. “And Jason with Lucy Livingston.”
Thirteen
Allison hadn’t wanted to talk any more about Jason. She especially didn’t want to talk about Lucy, leaving Zoe stewing with unanswered questions. Key among them—was it mere coincidence that Lucy Livingston’s name kept being linked to local men who were now either in the morgue or in the hospital?
Back at Rose’s house, Allison thanked Zoe and disappeared down the hall to her room. Zoe deposited her barn boots next to the door and headed for the coffeepot, emptying the last of the brew into a mug.
Rose looked up from her seat at the table where she was sorting the stack of mail that had accumulated during her absence. “How did she handle it?”
Zoe flopped into a kitchen chair across from her friend. “You knew why Allison wanted to go with me?”
“I had a pretty good idea.” Rose gathered one of the piles and stood, crossing to the trash can and dumping the flyers and junk mail. “We’d talked about things she needed to confront once we came back. That night in the barn was one of them.”
“You could’ve warned me.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
Zoe sipped the lukewarm coffee and pondered the question. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Some things have to happen in their own way. In their own time. If you knew in advance, you might have opened up the subject before Allison was ready.” Rose shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t know if she was ready to talk about it with you.”
Zoe had a feeling Allison wasn’t the only one who had returned home from their western sabbatical a little wiser. Leaning forward, Zoe asked, “Do you know Lucy Livingston?”
Rose eyed the barn boots Zoe had left next to the door. “Isn’t that the girl you said was engaged to Curtis Knox?”
“Yeah. Sort of. Besides that, though. Do you know her?”
“I don’t think so. Should I?” Rose picked up the boots, opened the door to the basement steps, and plopped them on the landing.
“Allison suggested that Lucy and Jason were involved at one point.”
“Jason Dyer? I thought this Lucy Livingston was older than that.”
“She is. I mean, I think she’s in her twenties.”
Rose made a disgusted sound. “Jason is—was—Logan’s age. Eighteen.”
Zoe didn’t mention the age difference between Allison and the monster who had nearly ruined her had been way more than the difference between twenty-something Lucy and just-barely-legal Jason Dyer. “You’ve said Jason hung out here. Did he ever mention her?”
“If he had something going with an older woman…” Rose made air quotes. “He didn’t say anything in front of me.”
“But he might have said something to Logan.”
“Probably.”
“Can you reach him? Ask him what he knows?”
Rose returned to her chair. “Why are you so interested in this girl? Do you think she might have something to do with Jason’s murder?”
Zoe took a long draw from her mug and made a face at the tepid stuff. “I don’t know. She says she’s engaged to Curtis, only she’s not. He’s lying in a hospital bed with a gunshot wound after being bushwhacked. She may or may not have had something going on with Jason Dyer, and he’s lying in the morgue after being bushwhacked. Coincidence?” Zoe shook her head. “Pete doesn’t believe in them.”
Rose studied her. “How is Pete, by the way?”
Zoe got up and dumped the rest of the coffee down the sink, placing the mug in it. She wasn’t up to facing her jumbled feelings right now. “He’s exhausted. I don’t think he’s slept in days. He promised to try and get some this afternoon.”
Rose wrinkled her nose. “Not what I meant. And you know it.”
A rap on the screen door saved Zoe from having to delve into the convoluted mess that was her relationship with Pete Adams.
Sylvia blew in without waiting to be invited. She looked at Zoe. “Good. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me? Why?”
Rose stood and moved next to Zoe at the sink.
“You’re not on duty tonight, right?” Sylvia asked.
“Right.” Zoe watched from the corner of her eye as Rose removed the mug from the sink, opened the dishwasher, and placed it on the top rack. Next to the warped plastic container.
“But you aren’t gonna get any sleep either. Until this beast is caught, none of us are.”
“Us?”
Sylvia gave Zoe a look, which she translated as get with the program. “Anyone who responds to 911. Or anyone who c
ares about those who do.”
Oh. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
“Probably, my ass. You know I’m right.”
“What are you driving at, Sylvia?” Rose asked, closing the dishwasher again.
“I’m not driving at anything. I’m driving to the police station. If tonight is anything like the last two, Pete’s gonna need all the help he can get.” Sylvia aimed a finger at Zoe. “You’ve had dispatch training.”
“I have.”
Sylvia turned her hand and crooked the finger. “Then you’re coming with me. I’m not trusting the lives of our boys to those high-tech computer jockeys sitting in the EOC in Brunswick.”
All five full- and part-time Vance Township officers sat at the conference table wearing expressions ranging from eager to solemn. Pete looked over his men and wondered how much flack he was going to catch at the next supervisors’ meeting when the topic turned to overtime pay. Right now he didn’t give a damn. Hell, he’d kick back his own pay if it helped nail this guy.
One of the part-timers raised a hand. “What if the call is something really petty?”
“Petty?” Pete fixed the man with a hard glare. “Petty and emergency are really oxymorons, don’t you think?”
“You know what I mean. A cat up a tree or duck in a drainage pipe stuff. We don’t have to go to those too, do we?”
Pete took three slow, deliberate strides to stand in front of the man, leaned down, and braced one hand against the table next to him. “Do you know what the shooter has planned for his next ambush?”
The officer’s jaw tightened. “No, sir.”
“Do you know who his next target or targets might be? How he plans to lure them into his next trap?”
“No, sir.”
Pete slammed the table with the hand he’d rested there. The officer flinched. “Then, yes, you have to respond to cats up trees and ducks in drainage pipes and every other damned call that comes in.”
The part-time officer slouched in his chair. “Yes, sir. I see your point.”
“Good.” Pete turned and stalked back to the head of the table. “Any other stupid questions?”
The room fell silent—except for the ringtone on Pete’s cell phone. He snatched it out of his pocket. Caller ID indicated Chuck Delano. Pete sent the call to voicemail. In a calmer tone, he again asked, “Any more questions?” When the response was negative, he thumbed toward the door. “Get out there. And be careful.”
The men rose and filed out of the room as Pete’s phone rang again. This time caller ID showed Baronick’s name. “What’ve you got?”
“One of the CSU guys located a beautiful intact bullet at the fire scene.”
“Wonderful,” Pete said, letting his sarcasm show. “Now we just need to find the gun to match it.”
“But when we do, we’ll have him. Also, the fire marshal found evidence of an accelerant in the barn. And not just a can of gas or kerosene. He says it was all over. So the Loomis barn was definitely torched.”
Pete rubbed his forehead. The evidence had caught up to what they already knew, but it didn’t help right now. “Anything else?”
“I’ve got our county officers on alert. We’ll have extra patrols in your area in case they’re needed.”
“Appreciate it.”
There was a moment’s lull on the line.
Then Baronick said, “I hope we don’t see each other tonight.”
“Yeah.”
The bells on the front door jingled as he ended the call. Now what? He stepped into the hallway to find Sylvia and Zoe heading into the front office.
Zoe stopped and met his gaze. For a moment he set aside the strain of the upcoming night to admire the sight in front of him. In tight jeans and a curve-hugging v-neck shirt, she looked damned good. Why the hell were they always finding excuses to avoid what he knew they both wanted? It had been months since the one and only time they’d made love. And it had been incredible. But he’d botched the whole morning after thing. Next time would be different.
Next time.
What if Zoe had been on that call to the cuts? What if the shooter didn’t care who was in the ambulance or on the fire truck? What if the killings were completely random? What if Pete never had a chance to tell Zoe what she really meant to him?
Sylvia stepped back out of the front office, blocking his view. “What’s going on—?” She spun to look at Zoe, who lowered her head. Sylvia rolled her eyes. “I wish you two would just hit the sheets and get it over with. But now is not the time. We have work to do.”
Apparently Sylvia wasn’t aware that they had already gotten it over with. Pete cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re going to man the radios and phones,” Sylvia said.
“You added yourself back onto my payroll?” He feigned annoyance. “The supervisors might have a problem with that.”
“I have some pull in that area. Besides, we’re volunteering our services.” Sylvia slapped Zoe on the back. “Let’s get busy. I’ll show you which buttons to push.”
Sylvia shuffled into the front office again.
Zoe paused, holding Pete’s gaze for a moment longer before a sexy smile crossed her lips. Then she sauntered after Sylvia.
Pete released a breath. Damn. Tamping down the sudden rise in temperature, he moved toward the front of the station, stopping in the doorway to the office where Sylvia was giving Zoe a quick tutorial.
“I appreciate the help, but Monongahela County EOC knows the situation and will notify us of all emergency calls.”
Sylvia dismissed him with a shake of her head. “That’s all good and well, but Emergency Ops is twenty miles away from the action. No one knows this corner of the county better than the three of us. And you…” She aimed a finger at Pete. “You need to be out there, not in here.”
She was right, of course.
“Besides,” Zoe added, “we can field local calls. If something happens, folks might call to report anything out of the ordinary.”
Pete held up both hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m sold. Just make sure you coordinate your efforts with the EOC.”
Sylvia thumbed at Zoe. “That’s going to be her job.”
“Okay then.” Pete snatched his ball cap from a hook on the wall. “I’ll leave my station in your capable hands.”
He’d made it to the front door when he heard Zoe call after him. He stopped and turned. She stood there, her baby blues wide with concern. He almost asked what she wanted. But before he had the chance, she covered the distance between them, flung her arms around his neck, and pressed a kiss to his lips. He pulled her closer and she melted against him. Damn, he wished he didn’t have his Kevlar vest on. She clung to him, her mouth warm, intense. When she broke the kiss, she pressed her face to his neck.
“Come back safe,” she said, her voice tight, almost desperate.
“I will. I promise.”
He could easily have stayed right there for the next hour. Hell, for the rest of his life. But he had work to do.
Like catching a killer before Zoe’s next shift. Pete took her by the arms, gently backing her away. Her eyes glistened, and he brushed a thumb across her cheek. “I have to go.”
She nodded. “Sylvia and I will have your back.”
He smiled. Took one more long look at the woman he loved more than life. And turned away, stepping into the warm early evening sun.
Zoe stood at the front door, watching through parted blinds as Pete climbed into his Explorer. She rested her forehead against the smooth glass. Why hadn’t she told him she loved him? What if she never had another chance?
“He’ll be fine.” Sylvia’s voice behind her made her heart jump.
Zoe spun. “How long have you been standing there?”
The woman’s omnipotent smile told Zoe long enough.
Sylvia followed her into the front office. “Pot’s empty. I’ll make fresh, but you can check the one in Pete’s office.”
Appreciating a moment to regroup, Zoe headed down the hall. Pete’s coffeepot held less than a cup of cold sludge. Worse than the stuff at Rose’s.
She carried it into the restroom, dumped the disgusting muck, and rinsed and refilled the pot with water. Back in his office she set up the brewer with a clean filter and loaded the basket from the nearly empty container of Maxwell House. All Pete needed to do was flip the power button when he returned.
As she approached the front office, the familiar static-laced voices of emergency radio broadcasts drifted through the station.
“What’s going on?” she asked, pausing in the doorway.
Sylvia sat in the chair she’d once occupied on a regular basis and jotted a note. “Medical call, forty-nine-year-old male. Insulin shock.”
“Sounds legit.”
“Yeah. Nate’s responding with the ambulance just in case.”
The coffeemaker hissed and gurgled, so Zoe slid into the second chair. “How do you want to handle this?”
Sylvia tapped the paper in front of her with the pen. “For now EOC has the lead. I’m keeping track of calls—locations and responding units, as well as where each of our boys are.”
Zoe knew Sylvia’s definition of “our boys” was the Vance Township Police. She leaned toward the older woman to read what was on the page. Pete’s name was at the top with a notation of the time and his most recent location—driving south on Route 15 toward Covered Bridge Road.
The radio crackled with another call directed at the Phillipsburg EMS garage. A sixty-eight-year-old female who had fallen earlier in the day and was complaining of abdominal pain. Her location was only a mile or two from Pete, but the Emergency Ops Center dispatcher requested Kevin to accompany the medics.
With a Vengeance Page 12
