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Desperate Measures (An Aspen Falls Novel)

Page 9

by Melissa Pearl


  “One cup of coffee,” Nate said. He was already pulling her door open wider. “Sally knows you’re here. She’s going to be pissed if you don’t at least come in and say hello.”

  “I can’t.”

  Nate rapped the newspaper on the roof of her car. “And I can finish telling you about the BOLO call.”

  She froze.

  He noticed. An amused smile lit his face. “Ha. Knew I had something that could lure you in.”

  With that, he straightened and headed toward the house.

  “Nate, wait!” she called.

  He kept walking and there was nothing left for Cam to do but to scurry after him.

  The inside of the bungalow was bright and cheery. Sally had parked herself in front of the stove and was expertly flipping pancakes on a sizzling griddle. A golden retriever sat patiently next to her, his eyes locked in on the food cooking on the stove.

  “Morning,” she said to Cam. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her cheeks were pink and rosy. She was like living sunshine.

  “Morning.” Cam’s response felt muted. She liked Sally very much, but she wasn’t in the house to see her.

  She wanted news about Alex.

  Nate poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

  She tried not to wrinkle her nose. No cream, no sugar. It was like drinking motor oil.

  “First batch of pancakes is up,” Sally announced.

  She set a plate of steaming blueberry pancakes on the kitchen table. “Eat up.”

  Nate sat down at the table and forked two pancakes onto the plate in front of him. He smothered them with syrup.

  “You gonna eat?” he asked, looking up at Cam.

  She shook her head. There was no room for pancakes in her stomach, not with the giant rock of anticipation, of dread, sitting inside of her.

  “Suit yourself.” He popped a bite in his mouth.

  Cam perched on the chair next to him. In a lowered voice, she said, “What’s going on with the BOLO?”

  Nate swallowed a mouthful of coffee to wash down the pancakes. “Not really sure,” he admitted. “All we have that’s concrete is a name. But there’s some speculation.”

  She frowned. “But you said—”

  “Hold up. A name and an occupation.”

  Cam waited.

  After he told her, the rest of the time at Nate’s house became a blur.

  She couldn’t think.

  Couldn’t speak.

  Somehow, she’d gotten out of his house.

  Back in her car.

  Somehow, she’d managed to answer her cell when it began to ring.

  In an almost dreamlike state, she saw the number flash on the screen.

  Knew it was Alex calling.

  Somehow, her voice cooperated.

  She’d asked questions, questions she couldn’t remember now.

  And she’d convinced him to stay put.

  To stay at the house.

  That was what she knew.

  Knew to be true.

  But what Nate had told her? She needed to talk to Alex himself, to look him in the eye and ask him the question, not only hearing his answer but watching his reaction.

  Because then she would know what was the truth.

  She pulled into the driveway, not bothering to park the car in the garage.

  Alex was waiting for her when she got herself inside.

  Immediately, he began peppering her with questions.

  She didn’t listen to what he was asking, at least not for content.

  She paid attention to the manner in which he asked.

  The words he used.

  The tone.

  The information he was seeking.

  Her legs buckled underneath her.

  He noticed. “Are you alright?” He reached out a hand to steady her but she lurched away from him.

  “Tell me,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  His eyes clouded. “Tell you what?”

  “Tell me who you are.”

  His brow furrowed. “I’m…I’m Alex.”

  “Tell me what you do.”

  He stared at her, his expression unreadable.

  “Tell me what you do,” she repeated, her voice a little louder, a little stronger this time.

  “I…” He swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  There was a roar in her ears, so loud it almost drowned out his response.

  She stared at him. “You’re a cop.”

  16

  Sunday, September 9th

  11:00 am

  Alex was speechless.

  Quickly, he tried to recover. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

  “Save it,” she bit off. Color rushed to her cheeks, her eyes, almost dead before, suddenly catching fire. “Is it true?”

  He was silent.

  “Is it true?” Her words were more measured this time.

  He glanced at the floor.

  “Answer me!”

  Fuck. This was not what he’d expected.

  He closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

  She made a strangled sound. “What the fuck? How?”

  “It’s…complicated.”

  Her expression was murderous. “Oh yeah? Well, why don’t you try to fucking uncomplicate things for me, okay? Because you’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

  “I haven’t,” he began, but she didn’t let him finish.

  “I was jumped. I’m in a gang,” she mimicked. “Those are the bullshit lies you’ve told me. I want to know what the fuck you’re involved in. No, wait,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to know everything. Every last detail. And I want to know why the hell there’s a notice out on you. Because the BOLO doesn’t include jack shit in terms of details.”

  Instead of answering her questions, he had one of his own. “You didn’t talk to anyone, did you?” His voice was sharp.

  “Of course I talked to someone,” she grated out. “How do you think I found out you’re a cop?”

  “Who?”

  “None of your damn business.” He reached for her arm but she jumped back. “Don’t you touch me,” she warned.

  “Cam—”

  “No. Don’t say my name. Don’t say it, dammit.”

  “Please. We need to talk…”

  “No, you need to talk,” she said pointedly.

  “I will,” he promised. He tried gentling his tone, his entire approach. She was like a feral cat at that moment, completely unhinged.

  He couldn’t blame her.

  But right now, the most important thing for him was to find out where she’d gotten her information. Because he was worried the worst-case scenario he’d imagined earlier was about to come true.

  “I just need you to answer one question,” he said. She opened her mouth, a retort probably at the ready, but he held up his finger. “Just one. Who did you talk to? Your cop friend? What’s his name, Nate?”

  She glared at him, eventually giving a slight nod.

  “Did you tell him I was here?”

  She hesitated, then shook her head.

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded again, more vehemently this time.

  Alex nodded and closed his eyes. “You lied to me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Her shock was genuine. “You are the one lying!”

  “You told me you went to visit your grandmother.”

  She balked for a minute, his accusation registering. “I did,” she insisted. “I stopped at Nate’s after.”

  “To get information about me? You told me you’d be back by ten.” He wasn’t about to admit that he’d been worried sick about her. He’d probably have to admit that anyway, when they finally got around to discussing how he’d managed to figure out her cell phone number.

  But right now, she seemed preoccupied with far bigger questions.

  Her expression turned haughty. “I went to his house because I thought someone was following me.”

  He
stilled. “What?”

  “They weren’t,” she said quickly, and he sensed embarrassment on her part.

  “What kind of car? Did you see the people inside?”

  Her look was wary. “You sound like a cop.”

  He could hear the disbelief, the disgust in her voice.

  He didn’t care.

  “What kind of car?” he repeated.

  She stared at him for a minute.

  He stared right back.

  “A Chevy Caprice,” she clipped. “White. Older model. Two male Hispanics up front. Mid-twenties.”

  His pulse quickened.

  Fuck.

  “Hispanic female and toddler in back,” she added.

  He frowned. “A kid?”

  She nodded.

  “What happened to the car?”

  “I called Nate. He came outside. Checked the street, saw nothing. I went inside. Stayed for a few minutes but there was no sign of them.”

  “And when you left?”

  Her cheeks colored.

  “Did you see them when you left?”

  Wordlessly, she shook her head.

  He sensed there was something she wasn’t telling him. “Did you look for them?”

  Another shake. “I was…distracted.” It was a stilted admission.

  “By…?” he asked.

  But he already knew.

  She lifted her head. “By the fact that you’re a cop and I had no fucking clue.”

  He knew she was pissed; hell, anyone with half a brain would be able to tell that.

  But his focus had shifted.

  A Chevy Caprice. He went through his mental catalog of known contacts, bringing up images of people and vehicles. A white Caprice didn’t ring a bell.

  But that didn’t mean jack shit.

  They could have jacked it. Borrowed it.

  They could be doing anything to fly under the radar.

  “How long did they follow you?” he asked. “Where did you first see them?”

  She let out a harsh laugh and folded her arms across her chest.

  “What?” he asked, when she stayed quiet.

  “I’m not answering any more questions,” she told him. She leveled him with a look that could freeze fire. “Not until you’ve answered all of mine.”

  His eyes locked with hers.

  More than anything, he wanted to tell her. But he knew the dangers, knew what the consequences might be. The less she knew, the better.

  However, he also knew that Cam had reached the end of her rope. She was hanging by a thread and he knew he needed to tread carefully. One wrong move might send her running to Nate…to the station…to everyone.

  One wrong move might send her to her death.

  “I know you want answers,” he said cautiously. “I want to give them to you.” He swallowed. “It’s just not that easy.”

  Her body practically vibrated with anger.

  “I think…” he said, dropping his gaze. “I think the best thing for me to do right now is to leave.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Alex was trying to formulate a plan, where he could go, what he could do to keep her safe. His phone was in his pocket but his wallet was still in his jeans. He didn’t know if he would actually need it. It had his fake ID and credit cards…but both were things he couldn’t use if he wanted to avoid being found.

  “Trust me,” he said. “It’s probably for the best.”

  “Trust you?” Her laugh was almost maniacal. “Trust you?”

  It sounded ridiculous, even to his own ears.

  But he didn’t have any other choice. He needed to somehow convince her that letting him leave was the best option. The only option, the way he saw it.

  She repositioned herself, planting her body between him and the front door.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” she said.

  The image of her, all five feet, five inches of her slender frame intent on blocking his exit, was almost comical. Even in his weakened state, there was no way she could physically overpower him.

  Especially since she wasn’t holding a knife to stop him this time.

  He took a deep breath. The door was mere steps away. He could pick her up if he wanted to. Lift her off the floor and set her on the other side and be gone before she could stop him.

  And yeah, she could call the cops. She could chase after him on foot.

  But that was a risk he was considering taking, especially if it meant she wouldn’t become more entangled in this than she already was.

  His throat constricted when his eyes met hers again.

  She looked so proud, so defiant.

  And so utterly broken.

  “Cam.”

  She blinked rapidly, but not before he saw the wetness behind her eyes.

  A breath shuddered out of him.

  Shit.

  This wasn’t the way this was supposed to go.

  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

  He’d already hurt her enough.

  But she was standing there, so wounded, so utterly confused by the pieces he’d told her and the bombshell Nate had dropped, that he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t leave.

  He couldn’t walk away.

  Not yet.

  Not when she was hurting, and not when he was the one who’d caused it.

  At that moment, all he wanted to do was fix things.

  Fix the problems he’d created.

  Fix the things he’d broken.

  And right now, that was her.

  His hands reached out of their own accord.

  Time seemed to stand still as he touched her shoulders, drawing her close.

  Her eyes dipped, her lips parted, and the words he spoke were ragged and raw. “I’m so sorry.”

  He touched his lips to hers, a whisper of a kiss. She sucked in a breath, her lips still against his, and then exhaled. The subtle change in pressure was all the invitation he needed. He crushed his mouth to hers, ignoring the stinging sensation from the cut on his lip.

  It didn’t matter.

  As he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close, nothing in the world mattered in that moment.

  Not the mess he was in, not the danger he’d created for him and the woman pressed against him.

  Nothing mattered.

  Nothing but Cam.

  17

  Sunday, September 9th

  11:30 am

  Cam pulled away.

  She didn’t want to.

  Her heart was telling her one thing, her head another.

  She listened to her head.

  Eventually.

  But not before she’d gotten a thorough taste of Alex’s lips. The heat, the tenderness, the desire—all of it had crashed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her in a sea of emotions.

  Standing in front of him now, her fingers touching her bruised, kiss-swollen lips, she stared at him, her eyes wide with shock.

  Alex didn’t look apologetic. His dark eyes hooded, his jaw locked, he radiated an intensity that threatened to set her aflame.

  She drew in a steadying breath. She needed to focus, dammit.

  Focus on what she’d found out at Nate’s.

  And focus on what the hell she was supposed to do next.

  Her anger had gotten the best of her. She knew she had every right to be upset. The man standing in front of her was not who she thought he was. She’d had a certain impression of him based on her own experiences years ago along with the scant information he’d chosen to share with her now. She’d made educated leaps and assumptions along the way to try to put those pieces together.

  With what she’d learned at Nate’s, the news had completely upended everything she thought she knew, and she found herself not only questioning just who the hell Alex Castillo was but also questioning her very skills as a detective.

  How had she missed the clues? Why had she chosen to make assumptions? Why had she not dug immediately into the things he’d t
old her?

  And the one thing that ate at her more than anything: why had she completely lost it at Nate’s?

  The memory of what had happened in his house not a half hour before was already a blur in her mind. She had simply shut down, paralyzed by shock.

  This was not the Camila Perez she knew. She was stronger than that, more focused, braver, sharper. The Cam she knew would have swallowed her surprise and buckled down, spitting out questions faster than Nate could answer them. And when the answers stopped coming, she would have whipped out her phone and started digging herself.

  That was who she was.

  Instead, she’d turned into a statue, frozen by the news, incapable of speaking, incapable of listening, incapable of doing. In fact, the only thing she’d managed to do was walk out of Nate and Sally’s bungalow and drive herself home.

  And even that she couldn’t remember with any sort of clarity. She must have driven on autopilot.

  Alex shifted on his feet, and she refocused on the man in front of her.

  Cam felt like a deflated balloon. She wondered if Alex’s kiss had somehow sucked the anger right out of her.

  It was gone.

  All she felt was…defeated.

  She didn’t know what to do, how to feel.

  She stared at him. “You can go.” Her voice sounded as flat as she felt inside. “I won’t try to stop you.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes.

  “I’m serious.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m exhausted. By all of this. Just…just go.”

  “Just like that?” Alex’s tone was incredulous.

  She nodded and stepped away from the door. She couldn’t have made it more obvious what she was doing if she’d yanked it open and waved him out with a flourish.

  But he made no move to leave. Instead, he shoved his hands in his sweats pockets and just stood there.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “I just said you can go. I’m not stopping you.”

  He cocked his head. “Who are you going to call when I leave?”

  She frowned. “What? No one.”

  “No one?” he repeated. “You have a cop who’s wanted for questioning. Someone who you remember as having a criminal record. I’m supposed to believe that you’re just gonna let me walk out the door and ride off into the sunset? That you’re going to do nothing?”

  He had every right to be skeptical. Not less than five minutes earlier, she’d been singing a completely different tune.

 

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