by Cindi Myers
“Actually not,” Jackson said. “I’ve been reading about how you combine LIDAR images with software that can actually strip away vegetation to reveal any hidden structures.”
Dillon mimicked opening the pages of a book. “Reading, like on paper.”
“On paper and on the net. My cousins have been trying to keep me from becoming a Luddite,” Jackson quipped.
“Can your cousins help us with the software part of it?” Rhea asked, losing a little bit of the glumness that had filled her tone a moment ago.
“I’m sure Robbie and Sophie can help us with the software. Maybe they even know someone in the area with drones equipped with LIDAR. Depending on what the images show, Dillon here can help us hike into the area. Maybe the forest service, as well. It is in their jurisdiction after all,” Jackson advised.
Jackson’s desk phone rang and he hit the button to engage the speaker. “What’s up, Rodriguez?”
“I have a visitor for you. He says Marcus sent him over,” Millie said.
“Perfect. Please put him in the conference room. We’ll be over in a second,” he said and disengaged the speaker.
“That’s good news, right?” Rhea said, suddenly feeling more optimistic than she had barely minutes before.
Jackson nodded. “For sure.” He turned to Dillon and shook his hand. “Thanks for the help. We’ll let you know when we need you again.”
Dillon did a little salute. “Anytime, boss.”
He exited, and Jackson gestured for Rhea to follow him. Once in the hallway, he laid a hand at her back in a way that was becoming achingly familiar. It offered immediate comfort and a sense of protection.
He guided her toward the conference room where an older man sat, waiting for them. He looked familiar, and as she dug through her memory, she recalled that she’d seen him tending the bar at the pub.
He stood as they entered, and Jackson held his hand out for a shake. She guessed that his use of the conference room and friendliness were intended to put the man at ease and not make him feel as if he was being interrogated. “Bradley, right?” Jackson said.
The man dipped his head in greeting in her direction and said, “That’s right. You have a good memory, Detective.”
“Jackson, please. Thanks for coming by,” Jackson said and sat kitty-corner to the man. Rhea sat beside Jackson, opposite the bartender.
“New manager says to come by, I come by. I don’t want no trouble,” the man said, hands clasped before him on the tabletop. His fingers were gnarly, arthritic. He also had assorted scars on his hands, nicks, cuts and even a larger silvery shape, like from a burn. Clearly the hands of a man who worked hard for his living. But also obviously a nervous man as he bounced those clasped hands on the surface of the table.
“I guess you know something about the two men we’re interested in?” Jackson asked.
A slight lift of his shoulders was followed by, “Some, but not much. They come now and again. Usually when we’re not as busy.”
Which confirmed what Marcus had told them earlier, Rhea thought.
“Anything else?” Jackson pressed.
“They’re rough. Not people persons. Mostly keep to themselves except...they’ve harassed some of the women,” Bradley said.
“Marcus said they were booted from the place for that,” Jackson said, trying to elicit more with the open question.
“They were. Not recently. After that they seemed to clean up their act, but they still creeped us out. The one brother seemed to be the leader and was just plain mean.”
“Mean in what way?” Jackson said, obviously wondering as she was what had prompted that impression.
Bradley bounced his hands on the tabletop faster and, as if realizing what he was doing, suddenly pulled them down beneath the edge of the table. “He almost growls his orders. Never a smile. Never a tip, but I got the feeling they didn’t have much money. Their clothes were raggedy and sometimes they smelled. Bad. If the girls didn’t put out the pretzels and nuts in front of them fast enough, we’d hear it.”
Jackson cupped his jaw and rubbed it thoughtfully. “Marcus said you all called them the ‘Mountain Men.’ Do you think they live up there?”
Bradley laughed and wobbled his head of salt-and-pepper hair back and forth. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they hole up in a cave somewhere and, like bears, only come out of hibernation a couple of times a year.”
Jackson continued with his questioning. “Anything else? Any names?”
The man shook his head, but then snapped his fingers. “I think the mean one called his brother ‘Wade.’ The older one was always warning his brother to stop one thing or another.”
As if to confirm, Jackson said, “You think they’re brothers?”
Bradley nodded vigorously. “I have an older brother, so I know how it goes. Totally brothers. And they look alike, I think. Hard to tell with all that hair.”
Jackson peered in her direction for the briefest moment before returning his attention to the bartender. He rose and held his hand out to the other man. “Thank you so much for coming by, Bradley. You’ve been really, really helpful. If by any chance you remember anything else or see these guys—”
“You’ll be the first person I call, Jackson,” the man said as he shook Jackson’s hand and once again dipped his head in Rhea’s direction. “Miss. I hope you find out what happened with your sister.”
With that, the older man exited the room.
“What do we do now?” she asked, wondering, but Jackson clearly had no doubt about their next steps.
“We call Avalon PD and suspend what they’re doing about Davis. Then I’ll check with our Search and Rescue guys to see if they have LIDAR and if not, time to talk to the cousins again.”
* * *
“I HOPE THOSE images we got for you were helpful,” Robbie said.
“They were, cuz, but the thing is...they’ve taken us in a new direction in the investigation,” Jackson admitted and did a quick look at Rhea to gauge how she was handling that new direction.
“Wow, okay. I guess you need more help. Let me get Sophie on the line,” Robbie said.
“Afternoon, Jackson,” Sophie said as she came across the speaker.
“Our investigations are pointing to two suspects who may be squatting on federal lands. But it’s a problem to do a traditional search on foot. Too large an area and too much underbrush and vegetation,” Jackson explained.
Robbie let out a low whistle. “Tough luck, but there are ways to search using drones.”
“And LIDAR,” Sophie added.
Jackson smiled, and Rhea jumped in with, “Jackson thought we might be able to do it that way.”
“You definitely can. First, you survey the area with drones equipped with LIDAR, and then you process that imagery to see what’s beneath trees and other foliage,” Sophie confirmed.
Jackson shared a look with Rhea. “We’re hoping you can connect us to someone who can do the drone work.”
The murmur of low voices drifted across the line. “We can do that, primo,” Robbie said.
“And we have software to process that imagery for you,” Sophie quickly added.
“Thank you so much! That would be fantastic,” Rhea said, her tone excited and grateful.
“We need to call a couple of drone specialists to see who’s free, but hopefully we can get back to you by later tonight,” Robbie said.
“Appreciated, cuz. Your help has been invaluable. I don’t know how we can repay you,” Jackson said and prepared for what he was sure would come next.
“Bring your lady friend to Miami!” Sophie said enthusiastically.
Rhea glanced in his direction, and the heat in her look could have ignited a forest fire. It was easy to picture the two of them, holding hands and walking along Ocean Drive in South Beach.
Voice husk
y with desire, he said, “I’ll definitely think about that. Thanks again, and we’ll talk to you later.”
He ended the call and peered at Rhea, hoping he hadn’t misread her earlier signals. “I’m sorry my cousins involved you in the Miami thing.”
Her gaze narrowed and grew a little more somber. “I guess you don’t like that idea?”
He raised his hands to stop her from going somewhere negative. “I do like it. I’m just not sure where we’re headed. I mean, we’ve kind of been forced together.”
“Forced? Is that what happened last night?” she said, her tone getting harsher by the second.
“Hell, no, Rhea. Last night and this morning were amazing. But you’re vulnerable right now, and I’ve got to think about—”
“Becoming police chief?” she said with an arch of her brow, the blue of her eyes becoming as chill as the ice on a winter lake.
“The investigation. And you. I never expected what’s happening between us, but I don’t regret it.”
“I don’t, either, Jax. But maybe we need to take a step back until this is all over,” Rhea said.
He hated that she was right, but it made sense to bring things back into perspective until the investigation was done. And if his cousins could basically work a miracle and find something on the mountain that would lead them to their two new suspects, the investigation would quickly be coming to a close.
“I just want to update the digital notebook and reach out to my local contact at the Park Service and see how she wants us to handle this. I can have someone drive you home if you want,” Jackson said.
Rhea shook her head. “I’ll just hang out here and do some sketching.”
She didn’t give Jackson time to argue with her, since she grabbed her ever-present knapsack and pulled out her sketch pad and pencils. Balancing the pad on her knee, she went to work and he did, as well, adding all the information they’d gathered to his notes.
Rhea flipped to the sketch of Jackson that she had started just two days ago. It had the barebones lines of him lying on the sofa, but needed so much more to do justice to the man sitting across from her. Especially since she now had intimate knowledge of that body. The hard muscles sheathed in smooth skin. The scars of a warrior along his shoulder and back, making her wonder if that accounted for the pain she’d seen on occasion.
And his face. Lord, it was the face of a fallen angel, tempting a woman with his full lips, dimples and the slight cleft in his chin. Those features were balanced by the strong line of his jaw and sharp straight nose.
She worked on those elements, since she had an unfettered look at them as he worked, a slight furrow in his brow as he concentrated and pecked information into the computer. At one point he leaned back, rubbed his jaw with his hand, as if puzzled, but then he was back at work.
Smiling, she shifted her pencil lower, adding definition to the broad expanse of his chest and lean midsection. Capturing with her pencil and paper the details her hands had explored last night and this morning. Understanding, but regretting, that she wouldn’t explore more of him tonight.
Caught up in her sketching, she was jolted back by the loud ring of Jackson’s cell phone. He answered and said, “Hi, cuz. That’s good news. Thanks.”
With a swipe, he ended the call. “They’ve reached out to their contact and copied me on the email. Hopefully we’ll be able to arrange to have the drone survey tomorrow.”
“That’s good news,” she said, grateful and expectant, but also worried. As long as the investigation wasn’t done, she’d be with Jackson and Selene was still alive. The next few days could change all that, but would it be for the better?
“Ready to go home?” he said, lacing his hands behind his head to stretch. A slight grimace skipped across his features, but he controlled it and brought his hands down to the arms of his chair to push to his feet.
“Back hurting?”
It was obvious he didn’t want to appear vulnerable as he shrugged and said, “Just a kink. Too much sitting. They say sitting—”
“Is the new smoking,” she finished for him with a chuckle. “We’re both in professions where we do a lot of sitting.”
“Too late for a hike, but maybe we can think of something else to do.” His gaze met hers, the gray of it smoky, warning of the fire that might soon ignite.
“For sure,” she said, despite her earlier reservations, and held her hand out to him in invitation.
As he slipped his work-rough hand in hers, she told herself not to worry about tonight or tomorrow. Whatever was meant to be was meant to be.
Even if it brought heartache.
* * *
THE TENSION HAD been building ever since they’d left the police station and grabbed a quick bite for dinner in one of the restaurants along Main Street. Night had fallen as Jackson let them into his home, the ever-present police cruiser sitting in the driveway to warn off whoever had burned down Jackson’s shed.
Inside, they paused at the base of the stairs, the tension so thick it felt like a presence shimmering between them.
With a wave of his hand, Jackson pushed away that sensation and said, “I have some things to do in my office. Why don’t you go up and get settled?”
Coward! Rhea wanted to scream, hating that he’d put the onus on her to decide where she’d spend the night because, well, she was feeling as craven as he was. With a curt nod, she stomped up the stairs, annoyed. Anxious. Needy. Despite knowing what was happening between them was so uncertain, she still wanted him. She wanted to not waste a minute with him because once the investigation was over...
She wouldn’t think about that.
She wouldn’t think about what she would do if Selene...
No, I won’t think that. She’s out there. Somewhere, she told herself and walked to the guest bedroom to get her nightshirt. A nice hot shower was bound to relax her and buy some time until Jackson came up and then...
She hurried into the shower, but took her time luxuriating beneath the rain showerhead, working shampoo into a thick lather. Soaping up and running her hands across her skin. Letting the heat of the water sink into her bones. Thick steam gathered in the room, warning her she’d been in there for quite some time.
Reluctantly she shut off the water, grabbed a towel and dried off. Her skin seemed sensitized as the touch of the terry cloth across her body roused memories of the feel of the sheets beneath her, and Jackson above her, his big body driving into her.
The warmth on her skin from the water morphed into a different kind of heat deep within.
Rushing into Jackson’s bedroom, she didn’t even waste a moment to turn on the light. She slipped beneath the sheets and pulled them tight about her, the bed feeling empty without him. Her senses hyper, tuned to the slightest noise until she heard the first footfall on the steps.
She held her breath, waiting for him. Eager for his body next to hers.
The footfalls came closer and paused at the door. A breath seemed to burst from him, almost as if he’d been holding it in anticipation. A rush of steps came before his weight settled on the edge of the bed.
“Rhea,” he said softly. Hesitantly.
She glanced at him. His face was in partial shadow, the only light that from the hallway. It made it hard to gauge what he was thinking. But then he cradled her jaw and tenderly ran his thumb across her cheek. Drifted it down to her lips, where he traced the edges of it, as powerful as any kiss. Stirring awake desire.
“Touch me, Jax,” she said and covered his hand with hers. Urged it to her breast where her nipple pebbled beneath his rough palm.
“Rhea, this is crazy,” he said, but he strummed his thumb across the hard tip and then reached beneath the sheets to find the hem of her nightshirt and draw it off her body.
With eager fingers she undid the buttons on his uniform shirt, baring his chest to her. Sitting up to d
rop kisses across the expanse until she tongued his masculine nipple and he groaned and held her head to him. With a little love bite, she brought her hands to his sides and urged him down to her, wanting his skin against hers. Wanting his hands on her.
“Please, Jax. Please,” she pleaded.
Jackson moved away from her only long enough to remove the rest of his clothes and slip beneath the sheets with her.
She had her hands on him instantly, cupping him and stroking his hard length.
“I want you in me,” she said and pressed him close.
“Bossy, aren’t you?” he teased, drawing a chuckle from her as he fumbled in the nightstand for a condom. He had barely taken it out, and she was shifting, urging him to his back and taking it from him. She tore it open, took out the condom and, with delicious leisure, rolled it down over him, and now it was his turn to plead.
“Rhea. I need you,” he said, and she didn’t disappoint.
She straddled him and sank onto him, slowly.
He laid his hands on her hips. Guided her to move on him, riding him. Thrusting into her forcefully, driving until the release washed over them, stealing their breaths.
Rhea wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. His heart beat rapidly beneath her ear, and his skin was damp. He smelled of man, leather and Jackson. She inhaled that aroma to commit it to memory. To remember it long past when this moment was done. He made her feel loved, but she told herself not to think too much about that.
There was still too much to do. Too many unknowns.
And when the morning came, it might be the beginning of the end depending on what the drone footage revealed. Much like the end of the investigation would reveal if whatever she was feeling for Jackson was real.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The drone sitting on the ground before them in the bright morning light was nothing like the small drones Rhea had seen at various events in Denver. The drone was easily a good three feet or more across, with large propellers to lift it high into the air. It sat on two upraised legs and nestled at the center was something that looked like a camera, but she guessed was the LIDAR device, whatever that was. Projecting above the body of the drone, almost on antennae, were some pod-like pieces.
