Okay, this was getting crazy. “Cody, I had nothing to do with this.” He handed him the letter. “And I didn’t try to take your job in Boston.” He sat. What a disaster this week was turning out to be. He could use a beer. Unfortunately, he couldn’t go anywhere near the pool hall anymore. Reminders of Heather were everywhere in Brookhollow, but especially there.
“Well, if you didn’t sandbag me, who did?”
“I did,” Sheriff Bishop said, entering through the fire hall.
Both men turned.
“What? Why?” Cody asked.
“Because there’s a position opening up here,” he said quietly, filling his “Best Grandpa” mug with coffee.
Jacob straightened, and his eyes widened. Did that mean...?
Sheriff Bishop shook his head briefly. “I’m retiring in the spring,” he said, and Jacob’s shoulders sagged. Not what he’d been hoping to hear.
“But, I thought you were planning to stay on for at least another couple of years,” Cody said, his anger dissipating.
“Things lately have taught me that maybe it’s time for me to go now,” the older man said.
So obviously Sheriff Bishop assumed Jacob wouldn’t be leaving Brookhollow anytime soon. Fantastic. This day could stop getting worse any moment now.
“So you can start as soon as you graduate.” He extended a hand to Cody, who still looked a little shocked but definitely relieved.
“Thank you, sir.” Then he turned to Jacob. “Sorry...”
Jacob shook his head. “We’re cool, man.” He pocketed his keys. “I think I’m going to head out, do some rounds...” He needed air and some time alone.
Sheriff Bishop nodded, following him outside. “Let’s go for a walk,” the older man said as Jacob reached for the door handle on the squad car.
Jacob paused. “What’s going on?”
“I got a call this morning. They caught Lorenzo, and they’ve set a court date,” he said quietly.
Relief flowed through him. “When?” Please, say soon. He couldn’t last much longer here...especially without Heather.
“Two days from now.”
December 22. “Oh, that’s amazing news,” he said, wanting to kiss the man. Two days. He could last two days. Barely, but at least he knew when he could get out of here. Two days was better than two weeks or two months. In the grand scheme of things, two days was a blink, yet it still felt excruciatingly long. Two days from now would be two days before Christmas Eve.
“How on earth was Cameron able to get a date that close to Christmas?” In his experience with the justice system, everything came to a complete stop the third week of December up until the new year. He hadn’t expected to hear anything until January or later. He’d resigned himself to spending the holidays alone in Brookhollow...without his family. Without Heather.
“Christmas miracle is all I can figure,” the older man said with a shrug, zipping his coat against the cold wind.
“I’ll take it.” Jake laughed. “Oh, thank God,” he said, turning to lean up against the squad car.
Sheriff Bishop looked less happy as he shuffled his feet in the snow.
“I’m sorry, I know I sound like I can’t wait to get out of here.” He was being insensitive. The department had postponed hiring a full-time, permanent staff member so he could fulfill the role until his case reached the judge. And now with Sheriff Bishop retiring in the spring, they would be once again looking for a replacement.
But the sheriff just laughed good-naturedly. “But you really can’t wait to get out of here.”
“I know, I’m dying here.” No sense lying about it. He’d been pretty obvious about his feelings before.
“You know, Brookhollow’s a great place. Less danger, slower pace, you could raise a family with confidence here. You can’t do that with your position on the force in New York,” he said.
The older man had a point. The small town would be a wonderful, safe place to settle down and start a family. Enjoy the lack of serious crimes and laid-back atmosphere. He was fitting in better now. And here, he didn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder.
He sighed. “Brookhollow does offer a level of peace and security, but the city is where I belong.” It was all he’d ever known, and his position on the NYPD was important to him. Important enough that he’d let the one woman he’d ever truly loved walk away.
Sheriff Bishop nodded. “I never expected you to stay...but we sure could use you around here.” He tapped his shoulder. “Good luck, son.”
“Hey, Sheriff Bishop—thank you.” The older man had welcomed him when no one else had. He’d been his only confidant this whole time. Jacob felt he owed him a lot. “I promise I’ll help you find a replacement.” There were several older men on the force in New York who might be perfect for the position. Once he got back to the city and settled his court case, he would spread the word about the opportunity in Brookhollow.
“Thanks, Jake. I’d appreciate you sending someone this way.” Sheriff Bishop made his way inside.
Alone, Jacob smiled. In two days, he was going home. He would testify against Leo Gonzales and Mario Lorenzo, and then he could get on with his life. He just hoped he still had a life waiting for him in New York.
* * *
RETAIL THERAPY ON Fifth Avenue made everything better. The hustle and bustle of the holiday shoppers, the businesspeople rushing from one meeting to another in the lead-up to the festive season, the decorated lampposts and the holiday music escaping the shops as doors opened and closed almost made Heather forget her heart was broken.
Two days away from Brookhollow—away from Jake—and already she was missing him. She hoped that the old adage “absence makes the heart grow fonder” was a lie and that as time passed, it would get easier to adjust to her new life without him.
It had only been three weeks since they’d kissed the first time—could she really have fallen so hard so quickly? The concept amazed her, but the ache in her heart told her she’d done just that.
As she exited the change room at Saks on Fifth Avenue, she slid her hands along the dark charcoal pencil skirt. “Do you think it’s too dark? Was the light gray better?” she asked her sister.
“It’s winter, and you already have the light gray,” Cameron said, handing her a navy blue suit. “Try this one next,” she said, before returning to the chair to watch Heather’s new career wardrobe fashion show, while typing furiously on her iPhone.
Heather turned in front of the mirror back inside the stall. The suit was fine. It was everything else that wasn’t.
She removed the jacket and replaced it on the hanger, then reached for the zipper on the skirt.
As she shimmied out of it, she heard her sister’s phone ringing for the millionth time that day.
“Seriously? Doesn’t your office realize a day off means a day off?” Her sister had surprised her with her availability for a shopping therapy day, but now it seemed that she was still essentially on call.
“Sorry, I have to get this.”
“Do what you gotta do, sis,” she said, pulling on her jeans and sweater and gathering the items she planned on buying. Four new suits at a cost of a thousand dollars each—an early Christmas gift from her sister—should be enough to dull her heartache for a little while, at least. The frozen yogurt store would be their next stop, she decided.
But as she zipped her heeled boots, she heard Cameron’s voice grow frantic. “Sorry, Heather. I have to get to the office.”
Heather stepped out of the stall. “What? No! You promised me ice cream to help brain-freeze away my depression over Jake,” she said. Though it would take a lot of low-fat, low-carb, low-taste chocolate fro-yo for that to happen.
“I know, but trust me, this is really important.” Cameron looked apologetic as she opened her purse and retrie
ved her credit card. “Everything’s on me. Go shoe shopping, too,” she said, handing it over.
“You think you can bribe me?”
“Hoping?”
Heather sighed. She should have known her sister having a day off was too good to be true. Cameron had worked both the morning of her wedding and while she was in labor with Dylan. “Fine. Go.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
As Cameron hurried through the front door, she dropped her office swipe card.
Heather rushed to pick it up and pushed open the store door. An alarm sounded.
“Hey! You need to pay,” the store clerk yelled.
Shoot. She hurried back to the counter and set her items down. “Hold these for just a second, please.” Then she rushed outside.
She spotted her sister turning onto a side street a block away. “Cameron!” she called.
Her sister turned, her cell phone to her ear.
“Your swipe card,” she said, waving it as she jogged closer.
Then she gasped. A van stopped in front of them, and a man in a hooded sweatshirt jumped out, grabbed Cameron around the waist and tossed her inside. Heather dropped the swipe card and willed her legs to run away from the big man, but she was frozen in place.
A second later, she was kicking against his hold, terror flowing through her. Then she was dumped into the back of the vehicle next to Cameron. She searched her sister’s face, seeing her own distress mirrored there, as the guy tied their hands behind them. “What’s going on?” she croaked.
Her sister’s face disappeared beneath a cloth bag before she could answer, then suddenly her tears were soaking the cloth at her own cheeks.
“Cameron! What’s going on?” she called again, shaking in the dark. The van started to move. “Where are they taking us?”
“I don’t know, Heather,” she said, her voice steady but laced with fear.
“Is this about a case or something?”
“This is about Jake’s case,” her sister said quietly.
Heather’s blood ran cold. Jake’s case? Her sister was working on his case? She blinked as a wave of nausea hit her. Oh, God! The drug bust...what was going to happen to them? Trying not to throw up, she choked on a sob and jumped as she felt something touch her arm.
“It’s just me,” Cameron said, moving even closer.
Heather rested her head against her sister’s, and the two of them huddled together, desperately seeking comfort in the terror and confusion surrounding them. “What’s going to happen to us?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.”
* * *
JACOB REMOVED THE last few items from his locker at the station the evening after his talk with Sheriff Bishop. He could hear Ethan, Jim and Noah playing poker in the fire hall, and he quickly stashed the letters from his nephew into the side pocket of his bag, then hung up his sheriff’s jacket for the last time.
He sighed, unsure what he was feeling. He wasn’t upset that he was leaving. Brookhollow was a great place to live and raise a family, but his heart was in the city. Heather was in the city, and soon he would be, too. He’d always stayed away from relationships and commitments that could complicate his career choices, but now he was ready to try something different, even if it meant reevaluating the danger he put himself in at work. He just hoped he could convince her to forgive him and give them another chance.
Hearing the guys’ laughter made him wish he could say goodbye, at least, but until the court case tomorrow, he had to keep his departure a secret. He was so close. He couldn’t risk ruining things by letting something slip.
He’d send the guys all an email from the city in the new year. Or maybe he’d visit. As he closed the locker, his cell rang. His heart raced at the sight of Emilio’s number lighting up the screen. His palms sweated as he held the phone, counting the rings. Two, three... Nine rings before the call was disconnected.
Nine o’clock that evening. That’s when the container would arrive. Of course, Lorenzo’s guys could show up anytime to collect the shipment. Jacob’s mouth was dry as he sat on the bench, contemplating his options. Lorenzo was in custody. He could go to New York, testify and hope that his statement was enough to put the man behind bars.
But what if it wasn’t enough?
His skin tingled as he thought about the coincidental timing of his capture. Being brought in the day a shipment was arriving? Was it just a way to ensure that the heat was removed from the surveillance on the dock that evening?
If he went to the dock, and busted Lorenzo’s men in the act of collecting the drug shipment, it would give the necessary backing evidence to his testimony... And the video surveillance footage would be more than enough to put the man away.
His legs slightly unsteady, Jacob stood, knowing what he needed to do.
* * *
NOISE COMING FROM his bathroom made him pause when he entered the apartment. The lights were off, except for the one in the short hall at the top of the stairs, and slowly, quietly laying his bag on the floor and keeping his back to the wall, he moved further into the room. Mrs. Kelly was at bingo, so who the hell was in his apartment? He stopped to listen again, and the sound of the toilet flushing made him frown. Someone had broken into his apartment to pee?
As he rounded the corner, his hand on his weapon, his common sense told him to remain calm. That his hypersensitivity right now came from the knowledge of where he was headed later tonight and the danger waiting there for him.
Still, his shoulders relaxed when he saw Cody.
“Hey, man.” Jacob paused, noticing his unlicensed, loaded weapon in the guy’s hand. “I’ll take that,” he said.
Cody shook his head as he moved it out of reach. “Not until you tell me exactly who you are and why you have an illegal weapon hiding in my aunt’s toilet.”
“Technically, I’m renting that toilet, so I can put anything I want in there,” he said, but he knew he was stalling.
“I’m not messing with you, Jake,” the young guy said, palming his walkie-talkie.
Jacob sighed. He didn’t have time for this right now, but he also didn’t want Sheriff Bishop involved. The older man thought he was heading back to New York to go into temporary custody until the trial the next day. “Fine. Just give me the gun, and I’ll explain.”
“I’ll hold the gun while you explain.”
Smart kid. Annoying, but smart. “I’m Detective Jacob Marx. I was undercover in New York until earlier this year.”
Cody’s eyes had widened, and he was nodding. “The Lorenzo case.”
“Right.”
“Your family went under witness protection, didn’t they?”
Jacob nodded. “And I came here instead. Look, Cody, I have to go.” It was already after seven.
“They just brought him into custody—I saw it on the news this morning.”
“Yes, they did, and I’m going back to testify.”
Cody’s eyes narrowed. “You’re heading back right now?”
“Yes,” he lied. “I just came to get...”
“This?” He held the gun out to him.
Jacob took it. “Yes. Thank you.” Removing the weapon from the plastic, he checked the chamber—full.
“Your hands are shaking. Where are you really headed, Jacob?”
“There’s just something I need to take care of.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said, leaving the bathroom.
No way. The kid had a wife and three children. Jacob refused to drag him into this. The case was barely his anymore, let alone a rookie cop’s who had no training in the field and no experience with crimes at this level. “No, you’re not.”
Cody’s eyes burned with determination. “We are partners until you leave, which means I’m going with you.�
�
“Cody, this is not some graffiti bust, man.” Jacob advanced toward him, ready to knock him out if necessary to keep him there—safe.
“Jacob, I became a cop for the same reason you did—to make a difference. For the sake of my family, I’ve decided to stay here in Brookhollow, but for tonight, I’m a real cop, and I’m coming with you.”
“Cody, no.”
The kid reached for the walkie again. “Fine. Well, the minute you leave, I’ll tail you and call it in. Wherever you’re going, I’m pretty sure you don’t have jurisdiction, and you sure aren’t under the NYPD undercover unit’s protection anymore.”
Damn. “So, if I won’t let you come with me, you’re going to rat me out?” Didn’t they teach brotherhood and loyalty in the academy anymore?
“Yes.”
He stared at the kid for a long moment, wasting time he didn’t have. “Fine. You drive. And you stay in the car at all times—understand?”
Cody nodded.
This was a mistake. He already knew it.
* * *
“PULL IN OVER HERE,” he told Cody as they arrived at the dock. They’d ditched the squad car for Cody’s truck, and after another attempt to talk the kid out of this, they’d headed to Newark, and he’d filled his new “partner” in on all the details of the bust. There were few. He knew the container was arriving at nine, and that Lorenzo’s two main guys would be there to accept the shipment, now that Lorenzo had been taken into custody. And that was it.
To his credit, Cody’s hands were steady on the wheel as he drove.
But a second later, as he cut the engine, the beep of Jacob’s glucose monitor made them both jump.
He held out a hand. “Don’t check yourself for bullet wounds, it was just my monitor.” He knew without looking that the thing was beeping for a different reason this time. His levels were high. Not ideal, but at least he wasn’t going to pass out.
“You okay?” Cody asked.
His diabetes was the least of his worries right now. He nodded. “I’m good. Cut the headlights.” He buckled his bulletproof vest and handed an extra one from the station to Cody. “Put this on, but stay in the car.”
Love, Lies & Mistletoe Page 20
