Dark Water (New York State Trooper Series Book 2)

by Jen Talty

  “You know me better than you think you do.”

  “Yeah right.”

  “Well, let’s go to dinner and discuss it. I could get my folks or cousin to babysit, and then later we could maybe take Andy to putt-putt or something.”

  “You’re crazy.” She took a step back from him. “Why the hell did you run with what Andy implied? Why didn’t you just say we’re friends?”

  “Hey, you ran with it, too.”

  Well, she couldn’t argue that point without looking like an idiot. She hadn’t done anything to imply they were not an item. “This is so screwed up.”

  “She’s evaluating your suitability to raise Andy, right?”

  “She’s evaluating everything. Says it’s her job to make sure that every possible avenue is checked out, then she’ll make her recommendation to the court about what she thinks is best for Andy.” Lacy crumpled back into the chair. “The whole process could take a year.”

  “I think me being a cop helps your situation. Maybe we could even push the system a bit if we…”

  “If we what?”

  “Nothing.” He squinted. “Let’s stick with dating.”

  “Maybe. If I really liked you that way. Or wanted you around. But I don’t. So now it just complicates things, and Andy is put in a situation where he has to lie.”

  “Lie? He’s the one who said I was dating you in the first place. I think he believes it.”

  “Oh, please.” She glared at him. No way could Andy actually believe that. He was just trying to be…be…helpful. Oh, who was she kidding? It seemed the world thought she and Frank were an item these days. Frank stared back at her. His gaze burned into her like a spark igniting. He had no right to be that damn good looking. “I’m going to call her right now and fix this.” Under the circumstances, she didn’t think she had a choice. She wasn’t going to pretend to date Frank. It was stupid.

  “Hey.” He reached out and laced his fingers around her arm as she tried to move past him. “I’m on your side, remember?”

  “A lying cop is on my side. Oh, goodie.” She yanked her arm free. His touch felt gentle and comforting when it shouldn’t have felt like anything.

  “We’ve been flirting with each other for a couple of months. And don’t tell me you don’t like me, because everyone knows that’s total bullshit. Besides, it wouldn’t be such a stretch. Lots of people have seen us together.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Yes, you are, but that’s not even the point. Trust that I won’t do anything to hurt you or your situation.” His eyes roamed her body, sending sudden warmth through her veins. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “The only thing I’m afraid of is losing Andy.”

  He rested both his hands on her shoulders. “I won’t let that happen.”

  She shrugged his soft hands off her bare shoulders and sidestepped him. The whole idea was just ludicrous. She wanted to laugh because deep down she knew this was exactly what Taylor was doing. He didn’t love his so-called girlfriend. Taylor didn’t even love himself. “Just because you’re a cop, you think you can fix anything. Well, I got news for you, buster, you can’t fix this. Taylor has money, power, and stability. I have shit.” She stepped into the trailer trying to ignore the way his touch lingered on her skin.

  Unfortunately, Frank followed her. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Oh, please. Let’s get real here for a minute.” She placed one hand on her hip and leaned the other against the microwave, peering over Frank’s broad shoulder to make sure Andy was well occupied. “I’m twenty-five, barely an adult myself. I’m basically broke, and in the eyes of the world, nothing but white trailer trash.”

  Frank opened his mouth, but she put her hand up and he clamped his lips together, not looking all that happy about being hushed. Inwardly, she smiled. Nothing like shutting a man up.

  “My father was the town drunk. My mother ran off when I was five. Taylor, on the other hand, comes from a decent family, has his own business, money to burn, and is getting married. Perfect environment for Andy.” To be totally screwed up, she thought, but her opinion didn’t matter.

  Just then, she heard a beep. Frank unclipped something from his belt and looked at it before pushing a couple of buttons and fastening it to his pants. “Perfect isn’t always what’s right.” He tipped his hat and said good-bye to Andy, who just grunted. “At this point we’re dating, maybe more. If you say otherwise, it will make you look like an idiot.” Frank leaned in closer and she wanted to slap him for being so harsh, but refrained. “I’m not trying to be a bastard. I’m trying to help you.”

  “But why?” She still didn’t get it. What the hell did he have to gain? No one did something like this without some kind of motive.

  “Because I’m a damn nice guy.” He gave her a quick kiss. “And I think you might be right about Taylor, but I need some time to prove it.” He pushed back the screen door and disappeared into the afternoon sun. “See you soon.”

  Lacy let out a long breath, grateful Frank had just taken off. She was too tired to argue with the man who thought he had all the answers. Besides, she needed a little time to digest his words. He actually believed Taylor could have had something to do with Hannah’s death.

  “Wow,” she whispered. Almost too good to believe. There had to be a catch.

  The television blared and she brought her focus back to Andy. He’d been doing so well, until Ms. Lazzery had to remind him of his visit with his father. “Shall we rent a movie tonight?”

  “Whatever,” Andy replied.

  Lacy inched into the family room, nestling herself on the floor by Andy. “I love you,” she whispered.

  He shifted, but didn’t glance her way. “I know.”

  She stared at him wondering if she was doing the right thing by waiting for him to open up. The shrink told her she shouldn’t push him, but guide him when he wanted to talk. She opened her mouth to ask him what he was feeling. Thinking. But changed her mind. The last time she’d pushed him, he ran off and ended up being brought home by a cop.

  By Frank.

  She sighed and slipped into the chair. Frank did things to her that she should feel guilty about. Her focus should be on Andy, the custody battle, and nothing else. But she couldn’t get the feel of being in Franks arms out of her mind.

  * * * * *

  Frank snagged his cap as he flew from the station house after hearing the call about one of Taylor’s trucks being run off the road.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Jared bellowed.

  Frank swung open his patrol car door. “Possible fatality. I’m the closest.”

  “Wait for me.” Jared disappeared back into the station house.

  Frank slammed the door and revved the engine impatiently. He lifted the handset and said, “State rolling. Estimated time five minutes.”

  “Sheriff’s office responded. Closest patrol car about fifteen minutes. Ambulance and emergency medic rolling,” the dispatcher replied.

  Jared jogged from the station house and slipped into the passenger seat. “Let’s fly.”

  Frank had already slammed the gearshift into reverse as he sounded the siren and peeled out of the parking lot. “Sounded like a hit and run.”

  “Do you know who called it in?”

  “Dispatch said another motorist had called while a tan sedan rammed into the back of the pick-up.”

  “Let’s hope the witness stuck around,” Jared said.

  Just as Frank rounded the corner off the main road, he saw the twisted metal of what used to be a truck. “Shit.” It would be amazing if anyone survived that crash. The truck had smashed into the embankment. Given the destruction, it was easy to verify that it had been rammed from behind before it rolled a few times and then landed upside down on the pavement. He reached for the radio. “Better get the fire department here.”

  “ETA about six minutes,” the dispatcher said.

  “Let me out,” Jared ordered.

  Frank sl
owed the car down and Jared leaped from the vehicle. Frank pulled up as close as he could. Shattered glass crunched under his boots as he stepped from the car. Sirens echoed in the background. He followed Jared to the heap of metal, taking mental notes of the surroundings. He noted there had to be three cars involved in this crash based on the marks, but only two cars remained. Thankfully, a sheriff’s car pulled in.

  “I’ll rope off the area,” the sheriff said.

  “Get names and numbers, too,” Frank added.

  In a matter of minutes, paramedics, the fire department, more local deputies, and two FBI agents were on the scene. Frank couldn’t help but wonder how the FBI got called in so quickly. Hit and run accidents weren’t really their thing.

  The firemen and paramedics had put up a cloth wall so spectators couldn’t look in. The inside of the truck was smeared with blood. From what Frank could tell, if the man inside the cab were alive, it would be a miracle if he survived transport to the hospital.

  “Damn it! Let me through!” a familiar man’s voice rang out. “That’s one of my employees.”

  So it’s not Taylor. Frank wasn’t proud that he’d wished Taylor had been the body mangled inside the truck. “Mr. Pratt,” he started making his way toward the yellow tape, “I understand your concern. Mercy flight is on the way and the plan is to take the victim to Albany Medical Center.”

  “What the hell happened?” Taylor asked taking off his baseball cap and running a hand through his long, brown hair.

  Frank cleared his throat taking the time he needed to collect his thoughts while sizing up Taylor. The last time he’d seen him had been two nights before Frank pulled Hannah’s body from the lake. “I really can’t say at this time.”

  “That’s my truck,” Taylor said looking Frank dead on. “I was supposed to be in that truck.”

  “You know who was behind the wheel?”

  Taylor nodded.

  A chopper sounded from above. Frank glanced to the cloud-filled sky and pointed toward the safest place for the helicopter to land. “Reese.” Frank motioned to one of the other troopers on the scene. “This is Mr. Pratt. He owns the truck.”

  “My company owns the truck.”

  “He knows the name of the driver. Get his information and as much as you can on the driver.”

  “You got it,” Reese said pulling out a pad and stepping toward Taylor.

  Frank turned and headed back toward the tire marks on the road. The Crime Scene Unit was getting pictures, taking measurements, and tagging information. Frank walked down the road to where the first tread appeared, and then back. “Had to be a third car.”

  “I concur.” Jared knelt over a skid mark. “The eyewitness accounts are inconsistent, but from what we can gather a tan four-door vehicle hit the truck from behind then tried to pass. The truck sped up but the sedan kept bumping into the truck. One of the witnesses said an oncoming car swerved and spun around.”

  “Swerved…or turned?”

  “Witness said the car was definitely trying to avoid an oncoming crash.”

  “But you think something else, don’t you?”

  “Me and half the other cops out here.”

  Frank didn’t need Jared to explain that it would appear the car coming from the other direction made a major U-turn, and then possibly helped the sedan in forcing the truck off the road. The question was why? Was it on purpose? And was it supposed to be Taylor?

  The second question caused a sudden burn in Frank’s chest to bubble to his throat. He searched his pockets. “Damn.”

  “Here.” Jared tossed him some antacids.

  For the next two hours, Frank and other law enforcement officers tried to piece together what happened. The victim, Chad Buckman, had been taken to Albany Medical, and last Frank heard he was barely hanging on.

  Frank had called Brad, who could only tell him that Taylor had been accounted for the entire day. Brad assured him that he’d let Frank know the moment something suspicious happened.

  Suspicious things were happening all around him, but once again, Frank couldn’t do anything. Sometimes his job sucked.

  The rest of the day went by in a fog. By the time he got back to his apartment on the lake, it was well after eight. He climbed the five steps on his front porch and took out his key.

  “Long day?” his cousin Patty asked as she opened the door into the shared hallway.

  “You could say that.” There were three apartments in his uncle’s house. His Uncle Fred lived upstairs and his cousin Patty lived in the studio apartment next to the two-bedroom apartment Frank occupied. Uncle Fred was divorced and a miserable son-of-bitch. Patty had moved into the studio to keep a watchful eye on her old man. Besides, the view from the front lawn was breathtaking.

  But ever since the accident, Frank avoided the view of the dark water after nightfall.

  “Hungry?”

  “Not really. But you look like you could use some company.” Frank didn’t really want to hang out with her and listen to how much it sucked to be single. She was single because she was too damn picky.

  She was a pretty girl. Short brown hair, blue eyes and a nice figure, but she was demanding as hell when it came to men. She wanted a man who would put her on a pedestal and bow to her every whim.

  “I’ve actually got a date, but I cooked pasta and it’s either going to be leftovers that I won’t eat or go into your stomach.”

  “You got a date? With who?”

  “Reese.”

  “No fucking way.”

  “Nice mouth.”

  “Sorry, but I’m shocked.” Frank lifted the lid to his mailbox, took out the junk mail and thumbed through it.

  “I’m nervous.”

  “You should be. The guy’s a player. And not your type.” He pushed open his door. “Get the pasta and come over for a beer.”

  “Sit out front?”

  “Nope.” He didn’t bother looking at her because he could feel the scowl form on her face.

  “You need to deal with it.”

  “I deal with it every day, so drop it.”

  “What are you going to do when they make you go in the water at night?”

  “Either drop it and get the pasta, or just go away.”

  “Fine,” she said and then slipped into her apartment.

  Frank tossed the mail on the table in the hallway and stepped through the family room toward his bedroom. He didn’t like being testy, but Patty should know better. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried, and he’d try again, just not with an audience.

  He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks. He’d shower later, but for now, he had to get out of his uniform and give his feet some breathing room. He always preferred to be barefoot, or at the very least, wear only sandals. When he stepped back into his kitchen, Patty had put a bowl on the table along with a beer. “Thanks.”

  “Tell me about Reese.”

  Frank sat down and poured cheese over his noodles. The sauce smelled great. Patty could certainly cook. Being a control freak was her only issue. “Not much to tell. He’s a hard-ass.” Frank scooped up the pasta, shoved some in his mouth, and chewed. “And after five minutes you will find too many fatal flaws in his personality.”

  “What do you mean by hard-ass? You mean like you? My dad? Your dad?”

  “I mean he’s not your type. How did you get him to go out with you?”

  She smacked him over the head. “He asked me, if you must know.”

  He had a hard time believing Reese would go and ask a woman like Patty out without some kind of prodding from someone. “When?” He continued to eat his food, not really tasting it, although it was damn good. He was hungrier than he’d thought.

  “The other day.”

  “You’re wasting your time.” Frank wiped his mouth and shoved his bowl aside before taking a sip of his beer. “He’s not going to treat you like a princess.”

  She plopped herself across from him and rested her chin in her hands. “Maybe I’m tired of
looking for Mr. Perfect. Maybe it’s high time I find myself a bad boy.”

  He chuckled. Patty had always been perfect. She’d graduated with honors, and had a decent job in Glens Falls as a legal assistant. “Finally sowing your oats, are you?”

  “I’m only twenty-three, I might as well.”

  “Remember I warned you about Reese. He’ll get in your pants and then drop you like a hot potato.” He swigged his beer glancing around his bare kitchen. What did he know about sowing wild oats? It wasn’t as if he’d been Mr. Charming in high school. Sure, he’d had his share of good-looking women. He’d dated a lot over the last couple of years, but he liked them all. They were relationships. It wasn’t like Reese, just another body. Frank truly cared about the girls he dated. Just not enough to let them decorate his apartment.

  “Maybe I’ll do the dropping.” Patty kicked him under the table. “What is up with you?”

  “Work shit.” That was the understatement of the year. While he didn’t believe what happened to Taylor’s truck had been at the hands of a wannabe-hit man some dorky kid might have spoken to, he couldn’t let the idea go that someone was after Taylor. Only two people came to mind. Andy and Lacy. “Bad accident today and I think it might tie into something else. I don’t have it all straight in my head.”

  “I heard a woman has got your head all messed up.” She leaned back in her chair with a smug grin.

  “Who said that?”

  “Jake told me all about the hottie waitress.”

  “Not much to tell there.”

  “Oh, please. Even your mom mentioned something about some girl you’ve been bragging about.”

  “Nothing’s going on, yet.” As a kid, all of his friends had always teased him about his inability to keep things from his mother. Sometimes it sucked being from such a close-knit family.

  “I knew it. Come on, since when do we keep secrets from each other?”

  Not only was Patty his cousin, but probably one of his best friends. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t confided in her. “She’s the sister of that woman I pulled from the lake back in May.” He finished off his beer and stood, setting the bottle next to the sink. He leaned against the counter and stared at the white wall. “I didn’t know that when I first met her.”