Desperate Measures (An Aspen Falls Novel)

by Melissa Pearl

“She fell asleep,” Cam whispered.

  Alex looked at Isabel. Her head was now lolled forward, her mouth slightly ajar. The afghan had slipped even farther, and Cam stood up so she could readjust it. She brushed a loose strand of hair off Isabel’s face.

  His heart constricted as he watched the tender moment between granddaughter and grandmother. No relationship like this existed for him. There was no one in his life he was close to—no family member to visit, to take care of. Beverly and Doug Kowalski were the closest he had to ‘family,’ and even then, he had to keep them at a distance.

  He had to keep everyone at a distance.

  Cam sat back down, hugging the corner of the love seat so their legs were no longer touching. He thought about spreading his own legs a little wider, forcing the contact. In some other moment, that type of action might be driven by desire, by physical attraction, but not right now.

  Right now he just wanted the human connection he’d lived without for so long.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice still low.

  “Me?” He looked at her, wondering if she could somehow intuit what was going on in his head. “I’m fine.”

  “Your jaw is okay?”

  He nodded. He’d told her in detail what had happened with Marco and his friend on the drive over to her grandmother’s.

  “We forgot the pain meds.” Her expression clouded. “I can run back and get them…”

  “I’ve told you, I don’t need them.”

  “But your ribs.” Her brow furrowed with concern. “And now this…”

  His heart somersaulted. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had shown any concern for him and his well-being.

  Actually, he could.

  It was Cam.

  Twelve years ago.

  “I’m fine,” he insisted.

  She looked as though she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned her attention back to her grandmother. “I don’t know how long I should let her sleep,” she murmured.

  Alex glanced at Isabel. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed.

  “It’s two o’clock,” Cam said.

  “She’s probably tired,” Alex said. “Let her sleep.”

  Cam looked at him. “What should we do, then?”

  He knew what he should do. He should come up with a damn plan for what he should do next. Brainstorm until his head hurt, put every option on the table, no matter how ridiculous.

  But there was something about sitting in Isabel’s apartment with Cam next to him that was doing weird things to him. Being there was the first taste of normal he’d had in a long time—maybe ever, if he really thought about it.

  And he was loath to give that up.

  Because he didn’t know if he’d ever experience that again.

  He smiled. “We’ll sit with her until she wakes up.”

  “That might have been the worst meal I’ve ever eaten,” Isabel said a few hours later.

  They were walking back to Isabel’s apartment after eating dinner in the dining hall.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Cam said as she pushed the apartment door open.

  Isabel shuffled through and immediately lowered herself into her recliner. She looked a little out of breath from the short walk to the dining room, and Alex shot a concerned look in her direction. Was she not feeling well? Or was this just one of those things that happened when people aged?

  He didn’t know, but it made him uncomfortable seeing her this way. He didn’t want any reminders that she was aging, or that her health might be failing. Not now. Not after he’d reconnected with this part of his past. The good part. The part he’d missed.

  Locking that part of his life away had allowed him to sort of freeze time. In his memory, he could picture Isabel and the rest of Cam’s family just as they’d been all those years ago. Some days, he would allow himself to conjure up daydreams, of current existences for all of them. Cam and Miguel had been relatively easy; he’d known what career paths they’d chosen, so at least those big details were available. Seeing the photos in Isabel’s apartment had confirmed that his perception of their futures hadn’t been too far off from the reality.

  But Cam’s grandma? He’d pictured her the same as she’d been when he first met her back when he was in high school. Working all day long and then coming home and whipping up meals with whatever food she had on hand. Sure, some days they might just have tortillas and beans. But it always smelled good, and tasted even better. And she’d always done it with a smile on her face. Always reminded those kids to be grateful for what they had.

  He’d never taken her words to heart back then. But as he’d gotten older and as he’d become increasingly isolated in his job, those words were often on whispered repeat in the back of his mind.

  “Jell-O salad,” Isabel said with a huff. “Who thinks that stuff is good? And who thinks it’s a salad?”

  Alex glanced at Cam. She was biting back a smile, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the twinkle in her eye. He could tell she was relaxed, and her features were softer because of it. She looked like a painting, one of those ones in the art museums with the rich color and the soft lighting.

  They sat in Isabel’s apartment for a while after the meal, with the elderly woman parked back in her recliner and Alex and Cam seated next to each other on the love seat. Isabel turned the television on, tuning in to one of the telenovelas on Univision, and Alex was instantly transported yet again, to evenings spent at Cam’s house, when Isabel would sink into the couch, prop her feet up, and watch a few quick minutes of her favorite soap opera before herding him out of the house and Cam off to bed. He stared at the screen, noticing that some of the actors and actresses from years ago were still on the show.

  “So in love,” Isabel said dreamily. Her eyes were on the couple onscreen, locked in a passionate embrace. Her gaze drifted to Alex and then Cam. “How about you two?”

  “What?” Cam’s voice was sharp.

  Isabel waved a hand toward them. “Alex answered some of my questions but not all. What brings you to Aspen Falls? And back into my granddaughter’s life?”

  Alex coughed and Cam’s cheeks turned crimson. “Grandma… he’s just visiting, that’s all. Just an old friend.”

  The old woman’s eyes sparked. “An old friend? The old friend who broke your heart when you were seventeen?”

  It was Alex’s turn to blush.

  “We can be friends,” Cam said. “That was the past.”

  Isabel chuckled. “Is that so? I know you, mi amor. You hold grudges.”

  Alex bit his lip to keep from laughing, wincing when his teeth grazed the scab that had formed.

  “I do not,” Cam retorted.

  Isabel just smiled knowingly. “You want to keep your secrets? Fine. I’ll get them out of you sooner or later.”

  Alex glanced at Cam. He could tell she was torn between correcting her grandmother’s assumptions and just letting it go so they could end the conversation. He had no idea which option she would choose.

  But Isabel lost interest in the topic, her attention returning to the television show. Alex felt Cam relax next to him. She leaned back against the cushions and expelled a breath, and he knew she was glad it hadn’t turned into a full-blown interrogation.

  He wasn’t nearly as glad. He kind of wanted to see how she explained his presence. And he kind of wanted to see her squirm, even just a little, at her grandmother’s shrewd observations.

  None of that happened, though, and eventually he got sucked into the storyline playing out on the small screen.

  “Grandma,” Cam said gently, about an hour later.

  The woman’s eyes fluttered open. She’d fallen asleep under her afghan. The soap opera had ended and Cam had switched the channel, tuning in to a news show instead. Alex hadn’t paid much attention to what the pundits were talking about; he’d concentrated instead on Cam’s presence next to him on the couch.

  “You should get to bed,” Cam told
her.

  Isabel blinked awake. “Nonsense,” she said with a yawn. “It’s early.”

  “It’s not that early,” Cam told her. “And you’ve been asleep for a while now.”

  “But Marta isn’t home yet,” Isabel said, frowning. She glanced around the room. “She isn’t, is she?”

  Alex looked at Cam.

  Her mouth was suddenly pinched tight. “Mom isn’t coming,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

  Isabel’s frown deepened. “But it’s late. She isn’t home yet.”

  “Mom has her own home,” Cam said. She got up from the love seat. “I’ll call for the night aide so she can help you get ready for bed.”

  Isabel struggled to her feet. “I don’t need help.”

  “I know you don’t.” Cam’s voice was calm, soothing. “She just likes to come in and make sure you’ve taken all your pills. You know that.”

  Isabel shuffled toward the sleeping area of her apartment. “I know what pills to take. I remember.”

  Cam mumbled something under her breath.

  “Is everything okay?” Alex asked, keeping his own voice low.

  Cam started to say something, then stopped. She nodded, then turned back to Isabel. “I’ll stop by the desk and let them know to send the night aide in.” She gathered her bag and keys and hurried over to say good night to her grandmother before she disappeared into the bathroom.

  They walked down the hall in silence.

  “She has memory issues?” Alex asked.

  Cam didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “It just started happening recently. She thinks Mom is here, or is supposed to be here.”

  “What do the doctors say?”

  “Nothing,” Cam said bluntly. “Medicare doesn’t exactly allow you to dig deep, if you know what I mean.”

  Alex took her word for it.

  “What does Miguel say?”

  Cam shrugged. “Nothing yet. Like I said, it’s all pretty new. He’ll see for himself at Thanksgiving.”

  He wanted to ask more but a voice in his head reminded him it wasn’t his place. This wasn’t his family. Cam didn’t owe him answers.

  Especially since they both knew he wouldn’t be sticking around.

  They stopped by the desk and, after letting the night nurse know Isabel would need someone to stop in her room, Cam got the key to the guest apartment. It was an upstairs unit, down a long hallway, just to the right of a large room that looked like it was used for group activities.

  Cam unlocked the door and flicked on the light.

  The apartment was almost identical to Isabel’s; at least the layout. The furniture wasn’t nearly as homey, but there was a couch and a television, and some tasteful landscape prints hung on the walls in place of Isabel’s religious art. A lone queen-sized bed was tucked behind the bookcase unit, draped in a floral quilt that looked like it had been lifted directly from a chain hotel.

  Cam dropped her bag on the couch and glanced around the room, her eyebrows pinching together as she completed her assessment.

  “What?” Alex asked. He could tell something was wrong.

  “There’s only one bed.”

  “Yes.” It was one of the first things he’d noticed. “There is.”

  She yanked a cushion off the couch, then replaced it. “I can just sleep here.”

  “It’s not a fold-out,” he said, stating what she’d just seen when she lifted the cushion.

  “I know. It’s fine.”

  “You can have the bed.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want it.”

  “Let me rephrase that,” Alex said. “You are taking the bed. I can sleep out here.”

  “You need the bed,” she countered. “You won’t fit on this couch. And you need to be able to stretch out.”

  He sat down on the love seat. He could just park himself there now and there would be nothing she could do. But as soon as he sat down, the cushion sagged under his weight and he felt a spring poking into his backside. It was a million times worse than Cam’s couch.

  “New plan,” he said as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position. “No one should be sleeping on this. It’s barely good enough to sit on, much less sleep on.” He bounced up and down and the springs protested, squeaking and groaning loudly.

  He stood up. “We can share the bed. It’s a queen. Big enough for both of us.”

  Cam’s mouth dropped open. “Absolutely not.”

  “You need your sleep,” he said. “I know you haven’t slept worth shit the last few nights.”

  She didn’t argue with that statement, because she couldn’t. He knew they’d both struggled to get rest.

  She glared at him. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “I’m not asking you to sleep with me,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. But something inside him stirred. Old memories sprang immediately to life, of him touching her, kissing her, loving her. They rushed back at him with aching clarity, and it took everything he had to stay focused, to not get lost in the moment.

  Alex chanced a look at her. Cam’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he could tell his suggestion had gotten under her skin.

  Good.

  She’d gotten under his skin, too.

  Again.

  He smiled. “I’ll stay on my side. And all we’ll do is sleep.”

  She just stared at him. “No.”

  “Alright,” he said agreeably. “We don’t have to sleep, then.”

  Her eyes rounded. “That’s not what I meant!”

  He chuckled. “Just get in the bed, Cam. I won’t touch you. I won’t look at you. I promise. But we both need some sleep if we’re going to figure out what the hell to do next.”

  Something clicked, because her expression shifted.

  And he knew he’d won the argument.

  Now he just needed to make sure he could keep the promises he’d just made.

  27

  Monday, September 10th

  10:00 pm

  She was in bed with Alex.

  Alex Castillo.

  Cam stared at the ceiling and wondered how the hell she’d gotten herself into this mess.

  She knew, of course. Everything that had happened in the last seventy-two hours was still crystal clear in her memory. Well, everything except the conversation at Nate’s.

  But how had she let Alex talk her into sharing a bed with him? In what universe did that decision make any kind of sense?

  It didn’t. It defied logic.

  She should have been adamant in her refusal and planted herself on the crappy love seat. It wasn’t as if he was going to go all caveman on her and drag her into the bed. He’d wanted her to take the bed because it was the gentlemanly thing to do. And when it became clear that the couch wasn’t going to be conducive to anyone sleeping on it, he’d suggested they share the bed.

  For practical reasons.

  Except Cam wasn’t being practical. She couldn’t be, not with Alex lying next to her. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, could smell the lingering scent of soap on his skin, could smell her own shampoo in his hair. If she let her mind wander, she could remember—and imagine—a lot of other things, too…

  She shifted to the edge of the bed.

  There was no way in hell she was going to sleep.

  She might as well just move to the couch so she could distance herself from the distraction lying next to her.

  He shifted from his side to his back. “Can’t sleep?” he murmured.

  His voice startled her. They’d turned the light off at least an hour ago, and she thought he was already asleep.

  “No,” she admitted.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  You.

  She chose a far safer response. “Everything.”

  “Me, too.” He pulled the sheet up to his chest. “I’m running a million scenarios in my head, trying to figure out what to do next.
”

  Cam didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. She’d been unable to fall asleep because she’d been consumed by his physical presence. Alex had stayed awake because he was plotting his next move.

  “What did you come up with?” she asked.

  “Nothing good.”

  “I still think Necco—”

  He cut her off. “No. He’s off-limits.”

  She knew arguing her point would be worthless. “Can I ask you a question?”

  He shifted so he was more on his side, facing her. Her heart skipped a beat, seeing him horizontal next to her, the ambient light in the room reflecting in his eyes.

  “What?” he asked cautiously.

  After talking with Nate at Lulu’s, she’d come up with a few new questions for Alex, questions that she hadn’t had the opportunity to ask. They’d been on the run from Marco and his thug friend, and then they’d been holed up with Grandma, which hadn’t been conducive to discussing details about the case.

  “We know your sergeant is doing some shady things,” she said. “And we know that whoever responded with him that night didn’t voice any concerns about what went down.”

  Alex’s jaw tightened and he nodded.

  “But that doesn’t mean everyone is on his side,” Cam pointed out. “Maybe there are some guys who would speak up if given the chance.”

  “Maybe.” His voice sounded doubtful. “But there’s no way of knowing who to even start with. I told you, no one is safe to contact.”

  “You don’t have a single person on the force who you trust?” Cam asked.

  It was such a foreign concept to her. None of the officers on the AFPD were what she would consider close friends, but they were her colleagues. She would lay down her life for them, and she had no doubt they would do the same for her.

  “No. Not anymore.”

  She looked at him. “What do you mean, not anymore?”

  “There was someone,” Alex told her. “But they left months ago.”

  She was almost afraid to ask. “Who was it?” She had a sneaking suspicion it was a woman.

  A faint smile appeared on his lips. “Travis.”

  She hated the relief that flooded her. “Did he work undercover with you?”