First Light

by Isabel Jolie

  “It goes without saying, if you want me to apply for a visa, I’ll go with you to visit them any time.” She smiled and led the way to the door. I didn’t press.

  On the way to dinner, a sadness emanated around her. Less than before, but still undeniably present. Her lips lay in a flat line, and she looked off in the distance. But she also looked more alive and aware than she had since we’d returned.

  We entered Starlight, Poppy’s recently opened restaurant, with our fingers linked. Poppy personally seated us at our table. She’d just left us with menus when Cali’s slim black pocketbook began humming. Her eyes widened, and her fingers trembled as she unzipped the leather bag. She appeared startled, and I slipped into high alert mode, one hand braced on the chair, my weight angled forward, prepared to respond. Not many people called her.

  She read her phone, and a perplexed expression crossed her features.

  “Someone set off my alarm. Do you think someone tried to break into my house?”

  “Or could Nym have set it off? He hasn’t been left there alone in a while.”

  “I don’t know, but we need to go.” She pushed her chair back. “We’ve got to get a check.”

  “We’ve only had water. We’re good. Let’s go.”

  She dashed out, heads turning in her wake, watching her speed out of the place. I waved a hand at Poppy to catch her attention.

  “We’ll be back,” I called, pointedly ignoring a couple staring nearby. I caught up to Cali in time to slide into the passenger side of my golf cart. She flattened the accelerator. I held on to the roof of the cart for balance as she whipped around the parking lot and onto the road.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing.” There weren’t many alarms on the island, but back in Chicago, false alarms were common.

  “Maybe. But if it’s something, Nym’s trained. I mean, what if someone noticed my house has been dark? And they just want to go TV shopping? And Nym attacks?”

  “Cali. We don’t have that kind of theft here.”

  “Well, why would someone break in?” She rushed her words, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say I frustrated her. Her left knee bounced, and she leaned forward, almost on top of the wheel, as if urging the cart to go faster.

  “First, you don’t know if someone broke in.”

  “The alarm isn’t wrong.”

  “A tree branch can set off some of those alarm systems. A bird against the glass.”

  “There’s an intruder.”

  “Why would someone want to break into your home, Cali?” She scowled. A mix of annoyance, probably at me, and an on-edge apprehension. “Why do you have such a sophisticated alarm system?”

  “Because it’s smart!” She lashed out at me, and I quieted. I braced my foot against the front of the cart as she flew along, for certain breaking the eighteen-mile-per-hour speed limit. A block away from her house, a shrill, high-pitched alarm greeted us, and she paled. My heartrate jumped, the same way it did at the sound of a siren. I wished I carried my gun.

  Before coming to a complete stop in front of her house, she leaped off the cart, leaving the ignition on, and darted up the stairs. I ran after her, pissed at her lack of caution.

  “Stay back.” She ignored me and swung open the front door.

  “Dammit, Cali!” I reached for her and shoved her against a wall. “Stay. Here,” I gritted out. “Right. Here.”

  She gave me the briefest nod, along with a stunned expression. That’s right, you will listen. I’ll be damned if I’ll let you put yourself into a dangerous situation.

  I crouched low, scanning the living area and kitchen, arms raised, ready. The corner of the rug had been kicked back. The sliding door was open. The sound of waves crashing wafted through the opening along with a slight breeze.

  I scanned outside.

  And ran.

  Gabe held both arms straight up in the air, as if held at gunpoint.

  As I stepped onto the deck, I discovered the issue.

  “Dude?”

  Nym growled, white fangs gleaming, the growl unnerving and fierce.

  “Sitzen!” Nym sat, dropped the growl, and wagged his tail.

  “Holy shit, am I glad to see you guys.” Gabe bent over, hands on his knees. “I thought I was dog meat.”

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t find my watch. Then I remembered I took it off when I fed that dog. Wouldn’t you think he’d remember I fed him?”

  Cali wiped her hand across her brow, and her chest heaved. “Gabe, he’s not trained that way. You’re lucky you’re alive.”

  “Why on Earth do you have a dog like that? He bit me!” He held out his foot, and his flip-flop dangled. Red marks spotted across his ankle. No blood, but you could see where it looked like teeth had clamped.

  Cali bent over his leg, checking out his ankle while rubbing between Nym’s ears.

  “He didn’t break skin. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. He wanted you to stay.”

  “For what?” Gabe crowed.

  “For me to come home.” She stood. “Why didn’t you turn off the alarm?”

  “I didn’t get a chance. I didn’t know he was home. I knew you guys were out to dinner, and I didn’t think you’d mind. He came out of nowhere, and his lips did that thing where he shows his fangs, and I backed away, and he started growling. Fuck! He chased me through your house.”

  “Well, you’re lucky. Did you find your watch?”

  Gabe’s mouth dropped. “Lucky?” He turned to me, palms splayed out. “Are you hearing this?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  “The dog bit me!”

  “He nipped you. He wanted you to heel. You’re lucky.” Cali bent over her dog, and Gabe’s eyes bugged out.

  “You’re insane. You’re both insane.” He shook an index finger at both of us, and I suppressed a laugh. He looked like a frenzied madman.

  “Let’s get you inside. I’ll check out your wound, and we’ll find your watch. Why would you take your watch off here?” Cali sounded lighter than she had in ages. Amused.

  Gabe looked like he could strangle her. “I got sunburnt. It itched.”

  “Well, I’m so sorry about Nym. Why didn’t you use any commands? I texted you all of them before.”

  “Well, let’s see… you try having a growling canine at your heels and try to remember the German commands!”

  “Gabe, I really am sorry.” She touched his arm, and his anger deflated.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. He really just nipped at me. Scary as fuck, though.”

  We went back to Gabe’s place, and Cali used his fully stocked medicine cabinet to apply ointment and bandage his ankle, then we ended up eating chicken salad sandwiches and drinking a couple of glasses of wine with Gabe and Poppy. Poppy returned home after Gabe texted her and told her we were over at their house. After dinner, we stopped back by Cali’s house, picked up Nym, and headed home.

  Nym trotted into my house, tail wagging. To me, the dog looked happy to be back.

  “You know, maybe you should keep him here. Maybe he’s unsettled, going back and forth between two homes.” I couldn’t help but think of all the folks who gathered on the beach in front of her house. I’d prefer to eliminate the risk of the dog actually turning into a Cujo and terrorizing the beach.

  “It’s not that he’s unsettled. It’s the way they trained him. You get that, right?”

  I followed her into the bedroom. She lifted her hair, and I undid the top button on her dress and unzipped it. She let her hair fall down in a silky, seductive veil.

  “How was he trained?”

  “Didn’t I tell you? In Germany. Both Nym and Astra. I’m lucky he didn’t really hurt Gabe. My guess is he knew Gabe, because he’d been feeding him, so he resorted to keeping him there until we arrived. If Gabe hadn’t run from him, maybe he could’ve gotten his watch without issue. But I suspect Nym wouldn’t have liked him taking an object from the house.”

  “Where’s Erik keep
his dog?”

  “Back where he lives.”

  “Isn’t that a big deal moving an animal between countries?”

  “It’s not cheap. And yeah, it’s a process. Astra has gone from Germany to the US to Taiwan. I think my mom has the photo of the two dogs together as babies.”

  “Were they cute puppies?”

  “So cute. The trainer sent us pictures. I didn’t get Nym until he was eighteen months old.” She placed a kiss against my throat, and a shiver of need laced down my spine. I forgot all about the dog. Her dark eyes found mine, and her dress glided over her shoulders and down to the floor, in a pool at her feet. A sheer black bra and tiny black lace panties remained. Sexy as fuck.

  Her fingers tangled in the hair on the back of my neck, and she pulled me down as she raised on tiptoes. She opened for me, her lips insistent and her tongue demanding. I’d been treating her with kid gloves, giving her space to mourn. It’d been too long…for both of us.

  She stroked my chest, then set about working the buttons on my shirt, one by one. By the time she gripped my belt buckle, I lifted her fingers to my lips, slowing us down. For weeks, she’d been drowning in sorrow. I had ached for her. I desperately wanted her, but better than anyone, I knew she hurt.

  “Are you sure? We don’t have to.” I’d be content to hold her, to fall asleep like we had done, with her in my arms.

  In answer, she slipped off her bra and lay back on the bed, offering herself up to me. Her tantalizing nipples were erect, waiting for me. She spread her legs, and her fingers dove beneath the black strip of lace covering her pussy. Her head tilted back, and her eyelids fluttered closed as she showed me exactly what she wanted. Fuck.

  I didn’t think it was humanly possible to undress faster than I did. My mouth, my tongue, my fingers worshipped her. I caressed, comforted, and cherished her. I brought her to the edge, trembling, over and over, all with my fingers and my mouth.

  “Logan. Please. I want you.” And god, I wanted her, too.

  “Condom.” I reached for the bedside table, but she grasped my wrist.

  “We don’t need one. I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

  “Me too. I haven’t been with anyone since Bethany, and I was tested… after I found out.”

  “I won’t cheat on you. Ever.” Her words, yes, they were only words, but god, hearing them unleashed a surge of emotion. For her, for us.

  I entered her, bare. I let out a guttural moan as she stretched around me. God, it had been too long since we’d loved each other in this way. We moved in unison, working each other into a frenzy, a light perspiration coating our skin. Her hands roamed my back, her nails grazed my skin, she gripped my ass, begging me to go deeper, to take her higher, and as we both found our release, and I pulsed inside her, I knew. She was all I needed and all I wanted. I didn’t think I’d ever find this again, and somehow, I’d found it.

  She cuddled against me on her side, one arm around my chest while I fingered her silky soft hair, our legs tangled. Our breathing slowly regulated. One phrase circulated, over and over, until I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  “I love you.”

  In return, she tilted her head up to look at me and smiled. I pressed my lips to her forehead and held her. I’d said it. She hadn’t. Earlier or now. But she still lay wrapped around me.

  We were ensconced in an afterglow, but my head didn’t quiet. The dog, the alarm, the locks she cared about on her house and only her house. My curiosity got the better of me, so I probed.

  “I get the sense there’s something about that house.” Her fingers toyed with my chest hair. A minute or two ticked by. I wanted her to open up to me. To tell me about her ex. What happened in her first marriage? How did it unravel? I wanted to know everything about her. But at her own pace, when the timing was right. Her reluctance to mention anything about that time in her life led my imagination to wander, to suspect it must have been traumatic or painful. Or maybe she was ashamed. But I believed there was no way she could have something worse to admit than my admission that I possibly couldn’t father children. I had bared myself to her, and I couldn’t shake the hunch her walls remained intact. “I’m not pushing you for information. I trust you’ll open up when you’re ready.”

  She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no. She pressed her lips to mine and whispered, “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 22

  Cali

  * * *

  “What are you frowning over?” He wasn’t one to take work home with him, yet he had his archaic laptop open. I gently squeezed his shoulders. “Wow. You are so tense.” I dug my thumbs into his trapezius muscles, eliciting a deep groan.

  “Keep doing that.” He dipped his head low, stretching the back of his neck. The movement exposed his computer screen.

  “What’s got you so tense? Facebook?”

  “It’s a political group. This woman, she’s from Raleigh. She tweets. She posts. She’s got a lot of people riled up. Because of this group she’s leading, I’m having to jump through hoops with budget justification. Thought I’d look into her more, and this group she’s in. But she’s in a ton of groups. Random causes. I suppose that’s normal for an activist.”

  “Is she anti-police?” These days it seemed people could be pro or anti anything, but I guessed police, as her cause increased his tension.

  “She’s aiming for more fair distribution of police resources. I understand her argument, but I have to say I’m not sure where she’s getting all her information. She’s sharing articles from sites I’ve never heard of. I guess bloggers? The claims are sensational. One article claimed they make police department budgets each year after a big BDSM party. Another theorizes the United States is run by elite members of a cartel and the cartels dictate police policy. It’s ludicrous. Where do people get this stuff? But her more sensible posts are the ones that seem to get the most likes. Logic appears to be winning out.”

  I burrowed my elbow into his shoulder, and he flinched.

  “Too hard?” I laughed as I fell forward from his movement.

  “A touch.”

  I froze, close enough to the screen the woman’s profile picture came into focus. I knew her. And several of her friends. My breathing stalled. “So, what’s her end goal?”

  “I don’t know what this woman’s end goal is. She’s all over the place. She’s a regular contributor to a group called National Budget Watchdog Group. That’s the group that’s done an analysis of police budgets in affluent areas. Essentially, they’re advocating to redistribute budgets, but they don’t seem to understand how budgets work. That some of those funds are county, some city. Taxes pay for those services. I mean, on the outset, you think budget watchdog, that sounds good to me. But then, digging into it, it’s like they don’t understand how things work. It’s just odd. A few of the beach towns, like Haven Island, have come under particular scrutiny. But the deeper I dig, I feel like we’re up against someone who’ll pick any fight. And she has a lot of followers. This budget group, not so much, but this woman does.”

  I tapped him on the back. “I’m gonna go out on the deck and try to reach Erik. Check in on Dad.”

  He nodded and continued scrolling Facebook.

  Outside on the deck, with my BlackBerry, I called Erik on the number he’d most recently called me from. I backed up on the screen porch, providing myself a direct view into the house.

  “Cecilia?” Dad’s voice came through the line.

  “Dad? Where’s Erik?” I blanched, wracked by a pang of guilt for not chatting with Dad, but I needed to speak to my brother.

  “He’s busy.”

  “Why do you have his phone?”

  “He stepped out for a run. I’m in his apartment.”

  Erik ran? I exhaled as my stomach bottomed out. I pinched my nose and focused. Erik told me those fake profiles were being used to counter the propaganda efforts of his old syndicate. But this account was what I’d call anti-police. What would that make his old syndicate? Pro
-police? Why would Erik be against that? Or was this about undermining a political candidate?

  “Cecilia?” Dad’s concerned tone pulled me back.

  “How are you doing?” I asked.

  “Good. It’s good to be with family. How are you and Logan doing?”

  Through the glass, Logan’s dark hair bent over the laptop.

  “We’re fine. He’s fine.”

  “Good. I need to run, sweetheart.”

  “Can you have Erik call me?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course. Love you, Dad.”

  Across the dunes, waves rolled and whitecaps peaked. The gentle breeze rustled the grasses along the dunes. Off in the distance, a pelican dove into the dark water with a white splash. The tranquil scene clashed with my rampant thoughts.

  Erik said he was using my profiles in his efforts to counter the efforts of his old company. Had he been full of shit? Did he pick this up as a pet project aiming to remove Public Safety back ages ago, before I even met Logan? Did having a police presence on the island threaten him in some way? What, exactly, was he up to?

  Chapter 23

  Logan

  * * *

  Several of the guys on my team gathered around the conference room table. Matt had returned, and his drop-in visit had me on edge. The last time he visited he announced Bethany was pregnant.

  “Did you see that hurricane that’s out in the Atlantic?” Matt asked offhandedly. I recognized it as office small talk. Samuel, one of the guys on my team, did not.