by Celia Roman
His eyes went ice cold and his voice dropped down real low and guttural. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” I snapped. “If you was any kinda law man, Belinda Arrowood wouldn’t be running around planting her fingerprints where they ortn’t be.”
He stepped back two feet and crooked a finger at the group of deputies. “Deputy Franks, escort Ms. Walkingstick to her car and follow her home. If she returns to this site before the investigator clears it, arrest her.”
My hands balled into fists at my side, one around the knife I still held in my hand. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” He slapped his hat back on his head, covering graying auburn hair, and adjusted it good. “And stay away from my son.”
He pivoted on the ball of one foot and stalked away just as Deputy Franks sidled up to me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“C’mon, Sunny. Let’s get you home, ok?”
Some of the anger bled outta me, replaced by a sick knot twisting in my guts. If I couldn’t come back, I couldn’t track down that monster, whatever it was, and if I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t clear Fame’s name, all because I hadn’t been able to hold my temper around Riley’s daddy.
Dang my sorry hide. What’d got ahold of me?
I sighed real deep, catching my breath good, and let Todd see me to the IROC and on the road toward home. There was still hope. Before I could track that critter down, I needed to figure out exactly what it was and how to kill it. That’d take a mite more research. Maybe by then, the investigator’d be done and I could do what I shoulda done today.
I drove nice and easy between the site of my latest misdeed and home, only too aware of Deputy Franks tailing me and the ever pressing need to do whatever I could to get Fame outta jail.
Soon as I parked the IROC, I got out and, real polite like, offered some of the still-warm biscuits and coffee to Deputy Franks. I was feeling so contrite, I let him take half of ever thing back with him, on the understanding he’d tell ever body he got it from the Sunday Diner so the sheriff wouldn’t make a fuss.
Wouldn’t do to have the prime suspect’s niece handing out homemade biscuits to the police now, would it?
I rolled my eyes as Deputy Franks headed back down my driveway, then hotfooted it up the hill to Fame’s toting the rest of the ham biscuits and coffee, grumbling the whole way about ever thing what come to mind: Harley snooping around the latest crime scene, the sheriff sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong, and half a morning spent cooking breakfast for other folk. No sense letting it go to waste. If nothing else, it’d save Missy some work.
I weren’t even halfway up the hill when my phone buzzed a message, so I sat down on the bench beside Henry’s angel and thumbed into it.
Riley.
My heart warmed right up and a tiny smile found its way onto my face, chasing the grumpies outta my bones lickety split.
The smile faded a mite when I read his message.
I’m bringing lunch by your place at noon. We need to talk.
Well, shoot. Sounded like he done heard about my little run in with his daddy. Dang Todd Franks to aitch ee double hockey sticks and back. See if I made him any more biscuits.
I touched a kiss from fingers to angel outta habit more’n thought, then picked up the goodies and headed on up the hill, plodding now whilst my brain stewed over Riley’s text.
Missy and the boys took to the biscuits like I hoped, and we all spent a good hour chewing over the newest crime scene. I didn’t tell ‘em what I seen beyond it being a monster up to no good. The rest was bad enough. Weren’t ever day one of us run into His Highness, was it, and especially weren’t ever day such a run in didn’t lead direct to the big house.
Half an hour before noonday, I trotted down the hill, worrying over Riley and whatever it was he had to say. Before I could sort out what I might say back, I reached the trailer and spotted his Range Rover parked next to the IROC. He was leaning against the hatch with his arms crossed over his chest and his DNR ballcap pulled down low over his eyes.
“Sunny,” he said. His voice was hard and short, a biter reminder of my encounter with his daddy.
My heart sank plumb down to my knees. “What you want, Riley?”
“Lunch.” He pushed off the car, opened the back door, pulled out a bag. “I only have an hour.”
I bit back the first thing what popped into my mouth, a snotty remark as to how he didn’t have to wander out this way in the first place on his lunch break. What come out was a mite more polite, but not by much. “Well, let’s get to it then.”
As I sailed by him, his hand shot out and wrapped itself around my upper arm, right where his daddy’d held me a coupla hours back. I didn’t bother to shake him off, but let me tell you, I was getting right tired of being manhandled by the Treadwell men.
Inside, I managed to slip Riley’s hold right about the time he set the paper sack full of food down on the kitchen table. I sidled over to the opposite side of it and crossed my arms over my thin chest. If he come all the way out from Clayton to talk, let him be the one to break the ice.
He hooked his hands on his hips and stared at me for a minute, his lips pressed into a grim slash across the lower half of his face. “Well?”
My eyebrows shot up. “Well what?”
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
Mad shot through me faster’n spit. “Me? What’d I do?”
He yanked his ballcap off and slapped it against his thigh, reminding me exactly of what I’d done that morning. “What were you thinking, provoking Dad like that? You know he’s gunning for you and your family. You know it, and you went out to that crime scene and trampled all over it anyway without telling a soul where you were or what you were up to.”
“Hey, now,” I said, but he was on a roll I couldn’t stop, like a boulder sliding down a steep hill with nothing set in its path.
“Christ, Sunny. Dad said you were going to go after that…thing with a goddamn knife. A knife! Like that would’ve done any good.”
I hunched down into myself and glared at him. Had he already forgot how many monsters I took down with that knife? Scratch that. I hadn’t told him all that yet, or not the really bad’uns anyhow, but he knowed enough. Shoot, I still had raw scars where I took down the last critter what thought to best me, and he bore witness to ‘em being stitched up.
He slapped his cap down on the table, strode around it, and yanked me into his chest, then wrapped them big ol’ arms of his around me and held me so tight I could scarce breathe. “You’re not doing that again, not ever.”
“What am I not doing?” I said into his jacket.
“You know what.”
His hands rubbed up my back, into my hair, and down again, shaking ever so slightly, and it dawned on me then that Riley only ever got like that when I done something to tick him off good.
I reached around him tentative like and returned the hug. “Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, baby. I’m not…” He heaved in a huge gulp of air, breathed it out into my crown, and pressed a soft kiss there. “When Todd called and told me what had happened, it scared the ever loving hell out of me.”
I soaked in Riley’s words and tried to rearrange what I knowed about him in my head. “You ain’t never been scared before.”
“Yes, I have, but it didn’t hit me how much danger you put yourself in until Betty tried to kill you.” His arms tightened around me again and his voice dropped into a gruff ache. “You almost died, Sunny. I almost lost you again.”
One of his hands tangled into my hair and eased my head back, then his mouth was on mine and he was kissing me, so desperate and sweet, like it was the first time and the last rolled all into one. I wanted to tell him it was ok. I wanted to hold him close and explain so he’d know I could take care of myself, but he moaned deep in his throat, a plea for something more, and the words trickled right outta my head, replaced by a yearning for all the good he brung int
o my heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Riley dogged my steps from that minute on. Ever chance he got, he was underfoot, and when he weren’t, he sicced somebody else on me. Anybody. It was like they was all changing shifts, Missy, Trey, Gentry. Shoot, even BobbiJean come out and spent an hour with me. Picking my brain, said she, over what being a mom was all about, like I couldn’t see straight through that excuse.
I weren’t borned yesterday.
On Saturday, Riley come over himself and took me on a long, winding road trip what ended at the mall in Greenville. Shopping again, this time for my newfound grampa’s birthday. I sworn. At this rate, I was gonna wear my shopping gene out, and it weren’t none too big to begin with.
Oh, we did the usual, too. Eating out at a new restaurant, playing putt-putt golf, holding hands whilst window shopping. Why, that scoundrel even bought me an ice cream cone, all in the name of keeping me far, far away from the trouble brewing back home.
That night, I fell asleep in the car coming home, and woke up as Riley was tucking me into his bed. “It’s ok, baby,” he whispered. “Let’s get some sleep.” Reassured, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep curled up beside him, and slept sound ‘til morning light.
I was alone in Riley’s bed when next I woke, ‘cept for a note scrawled on a piece of scrap paper sitting on top of his pillow, right where I was sure to see it.
Had to work, it said. Breakfast is in the kitchen. Back soon.
I turned the note over, discovered a grocery list written in a barely legible hand, then sat there torn between humor and exasperation. He left me here in his bed knowing full well I had work of my own to do, not to mention a birthday party to gussy up for. Didn’t that beat all?
Well, nothing for it. I could hitch a ride back to the trailer. Sure, I could, but by the time I got home, what could I do? Wouldn’t have time for investigating, even if all I did was snoop through a nigh on endless stack of research books, which is about all I done since coming face to face with that monster two days back. That and visit. Good Lord above, a body needed peace and quiet, and Riley done sucked up ever inch of mine the past few days.
I sighed and throwed the covers off my legs. Weren’t no use getting het up over the situation. No use a’tall, by my reckoning. I could take me a leisurely shower, borrow some of Riley’s clothes, and watch TV for a while, or I could…
My gaze fell on his laptop and a slow smile bloomed across my face. Why, I could do all of that or I could hack into Riley’s computer and surf the Internet, searching for clues. Hadn’t had a chance to visit the library and borrow one of theirs, what with all the visitors and such Riley shoved my way.
Besides which, he wouldn’t mind the borrowing, long as I didn’t snoop.
On t’other hand, here was my chance to sneak a peek through his pictures and such. What kind of investigator would I be if I passed up a golden opportunity?
I grinned and opened his t-shirt drawer. Shower first, then snooping, and if I was lucky, he’d remembered to go shopping for coffee last week.
Boy, was this gonna be fun.
Riley come home just shy of noon toting an overnight bag what looked suspiciously like mine. I glanced up from the spot on his couch where I’d hunkered down with his laptop and said, real mild, “I thought you was working.”
“I was.” He shut the door behind himself and turned the lock, then set the bag down. His gaze took in me, the t-shirt and socks of his I’d borrowed, and the laptop sitting on my blanket covered thighs, and his mouth curved into a big grin. “You made yourself at home.”
“Couldn’t do nothing else,” I said, cheerful like.
“Find anything?” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he added, “About that thing you and Dad ran into.”
I shook my head. That boy knowed me entirely too well. “Nothing much, but computer searching ain’t my thing. What’s that?”
He glanced down at the bag and shifted his stance. “Missy helped me get some clothes together for you.”
“So you told her we had a sleepover.”
“Honey, if we’d had a sleepover, there would’ve been a pillow fight and maybe some wrestling. No, scratch that. We definitely would’ve wrestled.”
By wrestling, I reckoned he meant s-e-x. For some reason, that secret spot between my thighs tingled and the strangest heat jittered through me. Two guesses who would’ve won a wrestling match between me and him, and it weren’t me. He was bigger and, let’s face it, even though I was meaner, I just couldn’t bring myself to be mean to him, not on purpose nohow. So he’d win and exact a sweet reward in the doing. Did I mind? No sirree! That didn’t mean I’d let on as how I kindly liked messing around with him.
I shut down the laptop and set it aside. “Next time you get a hankering for a sleepover, maybe you should let me know beforehand.”
He grunted as he unzipped his work jacket and hung it on the coatrack by the door. “I need twenty minutes to clean up, then we can head over to Libby’s. Want to shower with me?”
I pasted my sweetest smile on my mug. “I done did, thank ye kindly.”
His mouth twisted into a grimace. “Figures.”
I turned around on the couch so I could admire him walking away. Mm-mm-mm, did he have a fine rear. Nice and firm and muscled, it was, and boy, did watching him walk make me wanna cozy right up to him.
Maybe later.
For now, I had to get ready, and get ready I did. By the time Riley strolled outta the bathroom wearing a few drops of water and a towel wrapped around his waist, I was sitting on the edge of his bed fully dressed in my own clothes, finishing up the tying of my boots.
He walked right toward me, placed his hands palm down on the mattress on either side of my hips, and nuzzled my throat with his mouth. “We could be late,” he murmured.
I inhaled on the sly, breathing in the fresh, clean scent of him, and let my fingers test the strength in his shoulders. “Riley, c’mon.”
“We’ve been dating for months, Sunny.”
Had we? I mentally counted back to that first date and lost track when he pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of my neck. I managed a strangled, “Erm,” and then he carried me down, pinning me to the bed under his weight.
My eyelids fluttered closed and I melted under him. “Riley.”
The word was soft and dreamy and wondering. He did this to me, my Riley. Was him what softened my heart and made me feel safe and beautiful, like I was the most precious thing in the world.
The most precious thing ever.
I opened my eyes and caught him staring down at me. That same wonder filled them hazel eyes of his, shining out of him like sunlight through heavy clouds.
“We’re going to be late,” he said.
“No,” I replied, though I hardly knowed what I was saying.
“Can I just…” He touched the tip of his nose to mine, easy and reverent, then his breath feathered over my mouth and he inched himself off of me. “Five more minutes, ok?”
I gazed up at him, so confused by the interlude, I hardly knowed what to do. My mind was muddled and my tongue was clumsy in my mouth, and danged if my heart weren’t about to pitter patter right outta my chest.
A mischievous grin curved his mouth, and next thing I knowed, his fingers loosened the towel and it slid to the floor, revealing tall as an oak Riley in all his natural glory. My eyes followed the towel’s progress down muscled legs, then flicked up again and caught on the hard evidence of his arousal.
I placed a hand over my heart and patted, and danged if butterflies didn’t set to in my tummy, along with a good dose of heat. “Lordy, Riley.”
“Get a move on, Sunshine. We don’t have all day.”
He strode past me, cool as a cucumber, and I flipped over on my tummy and watched him go for the second time in an hour, admiring ever inch of him I could see and then some.
We arrived at Libby’s a good half hour before we was supposed to, after eating lunch and meandering through some errands a
long the way. Riley parked down the street at a cousin’s house, one we met at Henry’s memorial service, though I couldn’t put name to face to save my soul.
Could be my mind still lingered on Riley’s teasing, earlier whilst we was getting ready, or maybe on the way his hand draped over my thigh on the ride over, or maybe both. All I knowed was, the longer me and him hung out together, the bigger a chunk he stole of my life. The whole matter bemused me. If I coulda set it aside for later pondering, I woulda, but for the life of me, about the only thing rattling around in my noggin was Riley Treadwell.
We walked over to Libby’s along the grassy shoulder of the paved street. Cousin Libby lived in the middle of Snowbird Territory, the branch of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee situated near Robbinsville, North Carolina, outside the biggest chunk of Qualla Boundary to the east. Even though locals called it the Res, the land weren’t actually reserved a’tall; it was owned by the tribe and held in a trust of sorts by the Bureau of Indian Affairs, had been since at least the mid eighteen hundreds or so when them Cherokee what fled removal during the Trail of Tears finally come forward and reclaimed a little of their own.
What was left here was a remnant of a much larger tribe. Daddy never said much about it, but I do remember him mourning not being able to speak or read Cherokee. He learnt English instead, though the hows and whys of it was beyond my ken. I’d heard some time back that to keep the language alive, the schools brung in non-native speakers, scholars what’d studied Sequoyah’s tongue and knowed it better’n most natives. Maybe even among the insular Snowbird, the language was hard to preserve.
I sighed as Riley led me around a mud puddle and into Libby’s driveway. He’d insisted on carrying Johnny’s present, and good thing, too. I woulda dropped it sure as tootin’.
‘Course, I wouldn’ta had one a’tall if Riley hadn’t drug me out shopping yesterday. I couldn’t even get riled up about it. That’s what was so sad. That boy about had me wrapped around his little pinky, he did. I was beginning to think there weren’t nothing I could do about it neither.
