by Freya Barker
I’m fucking beside myself with frustration, watching them run up to the girls, just moments before I have a chance to grab her.
The hooker’s kid keeps looking over at me, almost fucking giving me away, and it takes everything out of me not to move from where I’m hiding and show myself. She’s gonna get it later.
They’re all gonna fucking get it later.
CHAPTER 18
Stacie
“This one is Maisy, Mom. Come pet her.”
Mak is getting a little too close to the massive head of the horse, in my opinion. How can you even tell if a horse is going to bite? I about have a spontaneous bowel movement when Mak almost sticks her hand in its massive mouth.
“She’s friendly. See?” Nick says, looking up from where he’s checking the bandages on the injured horse’s leg. He must’ve noticed the death grip I have on Mak’s other arm, ready to yank her out of the jaws of the large animal.
“If you say so.”
Yesterday we mostly stayed indoors, with the exception of a quick trip to the grocery store. Mak had been moody and not very happy with her house arrest, which made for a tense atmosphere in the house, despite Nick’s attempts at diffusing when he was there.
After helping with the groceries, he’d left to check on his dad and the ranch, but he was back in the evening.
I would’ve loved a repeat of the night before, when he managed to make my body sing, but he insisted on staying on the couch, with Mak in the house. Given my daughter’s questionable mood, I agreed the timing might not be right for that. Besides, I’m not really sure what it is we’re doing here, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that you grab what you can, while you can. So I plan to have that talk with Mak—soon.
This morning it had been Nick who suggested checking out the farm and having lunch with his dad. Mak of course was all over that, and I gave in, mostly because I hoped his father had some more of Nick’s childhood secrets to share. With his promise that we’d be back in time to prep dinner for Ben tonight, I got dressed in the jeans and sneakers Nick suggested.
It’s beautiful, this spot. Nestled against the mountains in the back, the large two-level ranch house, with an old-fashioned wraparound porch, had been a surprise the first time I saw it. I don’t know why I’d pictured some kind of utilitarian bungalow, but the rustic and well-tended family home, complete with window boxes and flowerbeds was far from it.
The driveway leading up to the house is lined with fruit trees that must look spectacular in the spring. This visit, Nick took the time to explain that the wheat fields closest to the road were leased by a farmer on the other side of Dolores, but the fruit trees and the horse meadows closer to the house were theirs to tend.
“Pops wasn’t ready to give up farming altogether,” he explained as we were driving up to the house. “But this is for fun, as long as he can manage.”
“I love it,” I admitted with a smile.
Nick’s father was having a coffee on the porch, sitting in an old rocker that looked like it had seen better days, when we drove up. He got to his feet as soon as we got out of Nick’s truck. The big smile on his face when my daughter bounded up the steps and greeted him, with a big hug, was enough to firmly cement the old man in my heart.
We ate the lunch we picked up at the Depot outside on the porch, but pretty soon Mak got restless and wanted to go see the animals. I slowly followed behind an animatedly chattering Mak and a much more subdued Nick, observing his easygoing manner with her. Even though I wanted to pull her back to safety when she confidently approached the large animal, Nick simply stood back. Sure, he was close enough to intervene in case, but he let my daughter take the lead.
Mak hasn’t had much male influence in her life—in large part by my choice—but it’s becoming clear to me that I’ve done my daughter a great disservice. With every new man who finds a place in our life—Ben, Isla’s Uncle Al, and now Nick, and his father as well—Mak seems to bloom a little more.
Taking a page from my daughter’s book, I let Nick’s confident grin lead me, and hold out my hand flat, like I saw Mak do. The horse’s lips, surprisingly soft, skim restlessly over my palm, as if looking for something. She lifts her head a little and I’m about to pull back my hand, a proud smile on my face, when suddenly the horse sneezes, leaving me with a handful of horse snot.
“Ewwww!” I blurt out, to Mak’s great hilarity.
“Here,” Nick says, taking my sticky hand and leading me to a water trough at the edge of the pen. “You really are a city girl, aren’t you?’ he mumbles, barely able to contain his grin as he carefully rinses my hand in the murky water.
“I’ve been camping,” I offer defensively, but that just seems to amuse him more.
“Yeah? You know how to pitch a tent? I’ll have to take you up near Telluride then,” he says, carefully wiping my hand on his shirt. “Some beautiful backcountry spots there.” He must’ve seen the panic on my face because suddenly he busts out laughing. “When was the last time you were in a tent?”
“College,” I admit grudgingly, walking away to try and avoid going into detail, but like a tenacious lawyer, Nick won’t let go.
“Where’d you go?” he digs, and I look down at my sneakers as I mumble a barely intelligible response. “Sorry, what?” he asks, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder. I turn and look at him defiantly.
“Albuquerque Best Buy parking lot, waiting for the doors to open on Black Friday,” I admit, seeing the humor dance in his warm eyes, before I quickly add by way of explanation, “they had a great deal on the Wii Fit.”
I can hear him laugh behind me as I march back to the house.
“YOU MADE THIS?” BEN asks with his mouth full, disbelief in his voice.
“I did,” I answer, trying to hide the pleased grin on my face. It’s not often my attempts at feeding my family is appreciated, especially not when my sister-in-law is a wizard in the kitchen and impossible to live up to. So the simple fact that everyone at the table, including Mak, who can be fussy, is wolfing down their dinner, is a boost to my culinary confidence.
When I’d mentioned trying this stuffed chicken recipe and risotto for dinner tonight, Nick gently intervened. He suggested it might make more sense to keep it simple, but do it well, as opposed to going all fancy, but half-assed. It took a bit of restraint on my part, being automatically defensive, but his words resonated.
The taco salad he suggested instead, had been easy to make, was fun to prepare, and looked fabulous once put together. I’d been dubious about the bag of Doritos, but the added crunch makes the salad amazing. The only cooking required was the ground beef with taco spices, the rest was chopping and slicing.
“’S good,” he mumbles, as he shovels another forkful in.
I look over at Nick, who winks at me, and I throw him a grateful smile. I’ve had a bitch of a year, and to top it off had some creep break into my house; despite all that I can feel the ground start to level out under my feet.
I look around my dining table at the people who are important to me, eating food I prepared for them, and I feel a deep satisfaction settle over me.
NICK
“How long are you planning on staying here?”
Ben’s question last night when he cornered me alone outside Stacie’s house, putting out the garbage, is still playing through my head this morning. Oh, I quickly responded with, “However long it takes,” but I recognize the concern in his question. He’s felt responsible for his sister his whole life, and clearly it’s not easy to hand over, or even share, responsibility for her safety.
Although he’d seemed satisfied with my answer, I still felt the need to add, “I care about her a lot.”
“It’s obvious, and I’m glad for her,” he said, nodding as he looked down at his boots. “I’d be fucking ecstatic if we didn’t have some lowlife out there, playing games with her. I don’t have a good feeling about this.” He looked me straight in the eye and I saw anger burning there.
This morning, after another night on Stacie’s couch, the brief conversation still plays in my head. Ben is uneasy, and from someone who’s spent his entire career working on instinct, that fucking means something. It makes me very worried.
I pull into my parking spot at the office. Stacie is dropping Mak off at school and plans to be here around nine for her first day, so that gives me time to give our good sheriff a quick call.
“I’ve got nothing for you,” Drew answers, clearly recognizing my number.
“What about—”
“Nick, my man,” he interrupts. “I’m digging, but we’ve got little to go on. I’ve contacted local law enforcement to check in on the guys that were released recently, but it’s not high on their priority lists. All I can tell you is to stay vigilant and let me know if anything, however small, catches your attention.”
“Fine. She’s starting here today, so it’s not hard to keep an eye out.”
“Your office?” he wants to know. “She have any cases lined up?”
“Sheila was looking into that. I’m sure she’ll be busy soon enough.”
I end the call shortly after, when Sheila walks into my office, a pile of file folders in her arms, and I’m quickly drowning in work. All stuff that piled up after taking time off last week.
It’s after noon by the time I look at the clock and realize I never saw Stacie come in. Dropping the folder I was reading, I get up, and go in search of Sheila, who is nowhere to be found. Doug’s office is empty, but Mondays he’s usually in court. The hallway on the other side of the reception desk is quiet, and the door to Stacie’s new office is closed.
There’s no answer when I knock, so I push open the door, only to find the office empty. What worries me is that it looks like no one’s been in here. No files, no paperwork, no empty coffee cups. Nothing.
Slightly panicked, I stop at the door to the ladies’ room, pushing it open.
“Anyone in here? Stacie?” My voice bounces off the tile walls, but there’s no answer. Now I’m worried.
Back at the reception desk, I grab the phone and start dialing Drew’s number, when I hear the front door open behind me.
“I got you pastrami on rye,” Sheila says, carrying a take out bag from the Spruce Tree coffee place.
“Have you seen Stacie?” I quickly replace the receiver on the phone and automatically grab for the sandwich Sheila holds out.
“She’s in court,” Sheila explains, and my confusion clearly shows, because she rolls her eyes before explaining, “I didn’t think you wanted to be disturbed so I sent you a text. Sheriff Carmel called looking for her earlier. Wanted her to meet him on a case.”
I vaguely remember hearing a ding, but I generally ignore those when I’m working. Drew sure as hell didn’t waste any time. To say I’m cool with the idea of him ingratiating himself with her would be a lie, but I still manage to head back to my office, eat my lunch, and concentrate on my case. I may not be able to trust our sheriff any further than I can toss him, but I trust Stacie.
I look up when there’s a knock at my door.
“Hey, you.” I smile when Stacie pushes open my door.
“Hi,” she says, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder before closing the door behind her, leaning back against it. “I just got my first client off.” Her smile is big as she saunters over to my desk, leaning forward, bracing her hands on the edge. After a day of digging through libido deadening, dry legal jargon, my cock jumps to attention at her seductive pose.
“You didn’t waste any time,” I compliment her, folding my hands behind my head as I lean back in my chair.
“I know,” she jokes, pursing her lips and blowing on her nails. “I don’t think Drew was all that pleased. He’s the one who suggested my name to this guy they had on distribution charges, but I have a sneaky suspicion he thought he was throwing me a harmless bone. He certainly wasn’t expecting me to get his case thrown out on a technicality.”
“Come here.”
I see the little hitch in her breathing at the sound of my commanding tone, and that tiny visible reaction has synapses firing off all over my body. Immediately the atmosphere in the room becomes so thick with sexual tension, I can taste it.
The restraint of the past few nights, knowing she was sleeping just steps away, but unable to get near her, was a challenge. Which is probably why my heart is about to pound out of my chest at the sight of Stacie slowly rounding my desk at my order.
I swivel my chair in her direction and the moment she’s within reach, I grab her by the hips and pull her between my spread legs. I wrap my arms tightly around her hips, bury my face in her soft belly, and inhale her scent. I may enjoy exerting my will, but the truth is; this woman owns me.
The words burn on my lips, eager to escape, but before I can give them voice, I hear the door open.
“Oh, I’m sorry...” I hear Sheila’s voice as Stacie jerks out of my hold. “I knocked. There was a phone call for Ms. Gustafson.”
“Stacie, please,” Stacie says softly, her face flushed in embarrassment.
“Right,” the other woman answers, looking no less uncomfortable.
I can’t do much. I can’t even stand up, since that would only add to the embarrassment. My dick hasn’t quite caught up to the interruption, and is still eagerly tenting my slacks.
“Sheila,” I start, breaking through the awkward standoff and drawing her attention. “The phone call?”
“Right,” she says again, turning to Stacie. “Dolores Elementary called. You left this number with the secretary? She wasn’t able to reach you on your cell.” Stacie immediately digs through her pockets and pulls out her cell.
“Damn, turned it off for court and forgot to turn it back on. What did she call for? Makenna okay?”
“She didn’t say, she just mentioned hoping to speak with you about a missing student?” She’s barely finished her sentence and Stacie is already dialing what I presume is the school.
I’m itching to take the phone from her hands, eager to take over, but it’s not my place. Not yet anyway.
“Hi, it’s Stacie Gustafson? Makenna’s mom? Is she okay?—Becca? No, I haven’t seen her since Saturday morning, why?”
I nod at Sheila, gently dismissing her as I get up from behind the desk and walk over to where Stacie’s staring out the window. Her shoulders are drawn up and her body language is tense, distressed, so I put my hands on her upper arms, trying to soothe with my touch.
“All right, I will,” she says to the person on the other side. “Keep her in the office, please? I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Talk to me,” I urge her when she turns around, her pale complexion stark against the healing skin of her scar.
“Becca didn’t show for classes this morning, and there was no answer when they tried calling her mom’s phone. The girls’ teacher thought perhaps Mak might know something, since the two are close, but she says she doesn’t. They called me because Mak apparently got very upset when she overheard them talk about calling the sheriff. I should go.”
She grabs her purse, tucks her phone inside, and heads for the door.
“Wait,” I call out, grabbing my own phone and a stack of files, before following her into the hallway. “Give me your keys, I’ll drive.”
“But what about your truck?”
“It’ll be here tomorrow,” I dismiss, shrugging.
For a moment, I think she’s going to object, but then she nods once, sharply, and proceeds to hand me the keys.
“Taking the files home,” I call out to Sheila, who’s standing by the filing cabinet, her back turned.
“Everything okay?” she wants to know, swirling around.
“Makenna is fine,” I answer, since Stacie is already out the door.
Mak may be all right, but my gut churns when I start thinking about what may be wrong with Becca.
CHAPTER 19
Nick
“Is she asleep?”
“Not yet,�
�� Stacie says as she plops down on the couch beside me, her face shiny from the cream she rubs into her skin a few times a day. “She’s trying to read. She still says she thinks something happened to Becca. That she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”
Drew had popped by not long after we got Mak home from school. The girls’ teacher had contacted the sheriff’s office, and although a truant child is not normally something he’d respond to, he’d already been keeping an eye on the girl. He admitted to me that he’d driven by the trailer, but no one was home. A neighbor mentioned seeing the boy get behind the wheel of the family car, a rusty Dodge Shadow, but he couldn’t tell if anyone else had been in the vehicle, and he couldn’t remember what time of the morning it had been. Drew wanted to see if perhaps Becca had mentioned anything to Mak about visiting family.
He’d been careful with his questioning, and suggested to Mak that perhaps there’d been a family emergency and there hadn’t been time to say goodbye.
Clearly she wasn’t buying that explanation.
“Some kind of family emergency seems the most likely explanation, though,” I suggest, throwing my arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. “Why else would the whole family be gone?”
“You’re probably right,” she says, scooting out from under my arm. “I need a drink. You want a glass of wine?”
I nod and watch as she expertly uncorks a bottle from the wine rack and pours a couple of stiff drinks.
“To your first day and your first win,” I toast, holding up the glass she hands me. “And to what I hope is a long and fruitful collaboration.”
She clinks her glass to mine, a teasing glint in her eyes.
“Are we still talking about the firm?” she asks, grabbing the remote and flicking on the TV.
