Gravedigger (The Rayburn Mysteries Book 1)

by Ceeree Fields

  At a branch in the hall, she turned right and continued checking the numbers next to the doors until she found the one she needed. A deep breath in and out and she pushed the door open.

  Terry’s normally vibrant red hair spread limp and lifeless across the stark white pillow. Asleep, her face twitched. Whether from pain or something else, she wasn’t sure.

  Jo’s feet moved her closer, even though she didn’t know if she could handle seeing the blame in her best friend’s gaze. Especially since the entire disaster was Jo’s fault.

  “Jo,” Sam whispered on the other side of Terry’s bed.

  She missed seeing Sam sprawled in the chair. Instead, Jo had homed in on the still form.

  Sam stood, rounded the bed, and dragged her into a hug.

  “About damned time you got here. Terry’s been questioning me like I’m one of her suspects. I almost went to the nurse’s desk to pilfer a sleeping pill. Not sure if I’d use it on her or me.”

  The light teasing helped settle Jo’s nerves. They’d already had the whole tear-filled ‘sorry’ episode while Terry was in surgery. Though the words were on her lips, Jo knew she wouldn’t say them again.

  The department’s psychiatrist had gone over the incident with her in explicit detail. The way the situation played out hadn’t been Jo’s fault. Hell, it wasn’t Terry’s fault. The shrink claimed every bit of blame fell on the perp and unexpected circumstances. None of the sessions lessened Jo’s guilt. Sullivan swore only time would do that.

  “Come on, sit down. With you here, I can go get a decent cup of coffee and some food that is not the crap they try to pass off as edible in the cafeteria.”

  Jo smiled, slapping Sam on the back. “You are looking scrawny. Guess without Terry’s home cooking you’ll be wasting away.”

  Sam laughed. Terry was as hopeless as Jo with cooking. Having set the microwave on fire when trying to bake a few potatoes, it was their second one in two months. She could at least use the microwave, however, the rest of the kitchen equipment challenged Jo.

  “Go on with you, I need me some girl time,” Terry stated, her faded blue eyes overflowing with love when they landed on her husband.

  A brush of lips across her forehead and Sam headed out leaving her and Terry to their own devices.

  “I love that man to death, but if I have to watch one more sports game, I’ll find my damned revolver and shoot the television.” Terry shifted, trying to push herself up and winced.

  “Quit that.” Jo took the remote and adjusted the bed to a sitting position, then placed a few pillows behind Terry. “That better?”

  “God, you have no idea.” Terry’s sharp gaze focused on Jo. “First, Sam told me about you saying sorry.” Terry shushed her before she could say anything. “This wasn’t your fault any more than it was mine. And bonus, I get my strapping, handsome husband to wait on me hand-and-foot. Like a queen.”

  Jo shook her head. “I am sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” Terry cut in, a gleam in her eye. “Now, tell me what the hell happened and where we are with catching this guy?”

  Some of her guilt leeched away under Terry’s no-nonsense attitude. Seeing her friend’s indomitable spirit shake off the bullet wound, settled something in Jo. She realized if the situation were reversed she would be the same way. She’d want the asshole caught and that’s where Jo needed to focus. To hunt the perp down and make him pay. The question now was . . . How much should she share?

  Jo nibbled her lip as she debated with herself.

  “Swear to God if you leave something out, I’ll put peanut butter in all your headsets for the next six months.”

  “You wouldn’t.” She squinted at her best friend, testing the validity of the threat.

  “I’m stuck in this damned bed for who knows how long. Then I have another surgery to get through because the bullet did something with my bone. I have God knows how much PT to get through, so don’t screw with me on this. I want details.”

  Realizing her friend wouldn’t be satisfied with a few stray facts, Jo settled into the uncomfortable, vinyl lounge chair Sam had vacated and filled Terry in on what had happened.

  After an hour of Terry digging into every detail of their investigation and commenting on how growly Abe was, silence descended and Terry’s eyes drifted shut.

  A sharp rap at the door jerked Terry awake and made Jo jump.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Rhys’s smooth voice broke the awkward silence.

  In his arms was a gorgeous mixed bouquet of daisies, lilies, and assorted flowers Jo didn’t know. Brightening the dreary room.

  “Hi, come on in.” Terry shifted on the bed and gasped at putting weight on her bad side again.

  He set the vase down while she helped her friend resettle. For him to take the time to come and check on Terry, lodged he deeper into Jo’s heart.

  “I wanted to bring you something to help brighten the room, especially in the winter.” He moved closer to the bed and Jo realized he had more with him than flowers. The plastic sack crinkled when he passed it to Terry. “I also remembered Sam mentioning you liked Sudoku, and I grabbed a few of them as well.”

  A light pink tinged Terry’s cheeks. “Thanks.”

  She wanted to kick herself. She’d forgotten the puzzles, though she had snuck her friend’s favorite chocolate in. No way would Terry be okay without her daily fix of dark chocolate goodness.

  Before she could pepper him with questions, a nurse bustled in.

  “You two will need to leave,” the woman stated. Otherwise not acknowledging them, she turned and scribbled in Terry’s chart. “The doctor will be here any minute to look at the dressing and update you.”

  The chart closed with a snap as the nurse placed it in the holder attached to the door and left.

  “Well, that’s our cue.” She leaned down and gave Terry a careful hug. “I’ll check in tomorrow.”

  “I’ll hold you to it.” Terry’s gaze bounced dramatically between Jo and Rhys.

  He took Jo’s place and hugged Terry. “I’ve got to work tomorrow and have to take Rian to an appointment.”

  “I appreciate the flowers and the puzzles, Rhys, and the chocolates, Jo. But I’ll probably be out of here by the weekend.”

  A throat clearing pulled their attention to the door. The doctor stood in the doorway, Terry’s chart to his chest. With glasses perched on the man’s nose and a ring of silver around his bald head, he looked exactly as a doctor should. “We’ll discuss it after my examination.”

  With a wave, they stepped from the room, the door gently shutting behind them.

  “We’re still on for tomorrow night?” Rhys asked as they made their way to the elevator that would take them to the garage.

  Anticipation curled in Jo. “Yes.”

  Stepping from the elevator, they walked over the sky-bridge to the attached parking deck. He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

  Then he was gone, leaving behind the dark taste of him and a heat Jo hoped to satisfy tomorrow.

  ~ ~ ~

  Shivering, Jo stepped into the bullpen. She’d not felt warm since leaving Rhys earlier. No friend of Jo’s had ever been shot. Oh, there had been others in the department shot and killed, and the loss upset her as any death would. However, none had been close to her. Touched her, as few people made it past Jo’s walls.

  When she’d shown up on his doorstep broken and bloody, he’d been her rock. His brand of comfort heated her blood and warmed her soul. Hell, he hadn’t even minded when she fell asleep on him and drooled.

  The sectional had more than enough room for them to snuggle. With him leaning on the lounge piece, he’d dragged her between his legs and nestled her close. Then he’d picked up the remote
, unpaused his program, kissed the crown of her head, and settled in to watch his shows.

  No expectations of her telling him what had happened, though the story spilled out in fits and starts. No getting impatient when something hit her, and Jo began to sob. No wheedling for ‘forget what happened sex’ when she’d felt the press of his erection against her ass. Instead, he’d tucked her head under his chin, draped a throw over them, and wrapped her safely in his arms.

  Pulled from her thoughts when she spotted Sullivan hovering near the captain’s office, she veered toward him.

  “Hey, you been to see Terry today?” he asked

  She nudged Sullivan’s side with her shoulder in greeting. “Yep, had a nice long chat.”

  “She made you tell her about the case, didn’t she?”

  “Threatened me with peanut butter in my phones.” Jo shuddered.

  Laughing, Sullivan shook his head. “Better than me. Terry told me she’d take Sam off my team for a month at the pool tournaments.”

  “Damn that’s cold. You and Sam wipe the floors with the rest of the league.”

  “Rayburn, Krane,” the captain called from his office as another officer left, brushing by Sullivan in his haste.

  She closed the door behind them as Sullivan took one of the two visitor chairs across the desk from Captain Walker.

  “You two aren’t to be here until tomorrow and you, Rayburn, are on desk duty until the psychiatrist releases you.” His fingers tapped against the blotter on his desk. “Otherwise, get your paperwork caught up and hopefully you’ll be back out next week.”

  Jo rolled her lips over her teeth to keep from begging to be let out before then even if the only job the captain gave her was to look at a crime scene. They all knew the answer would be no. Instead, a smile grew over her face. “Captain, since we’re only on desk duty, does that mean we can have the weekend off?”

  Dark brown eyes slitted as if dissecting her. Nothing gave her away as she broadened her grin.

  “Cut that out, Rayburn. I’ve never seen you smile and I don’t want to start now. As for the weekend off, yes. But I expect you two to be ready to do what’s needed next week. In the meantime, I’ll put Karma and Maker as lead team on Digger until you’re released for active duty.”

  Jo waited until they were on the sidewalk before doing a happy dance.

  “I can’t believe he gave us the weekend.” Sullivan grinned a lopsided smile. “Then again, as freaky as that grin was in there, I can kind of understand him caving.”

  “Whatever. I get a weekend with Rhys, alone. You know what that means—”

  Sullivan jabbed a finger at her. “No! No telling me about anything that happens behind closed doors or I’ll start eating extra garlic on everything. And I’ll make damned sure to breathe in your general vicinity as much as possible.”

  Both turned toward the parking structure and began walking.

  Jo couldn’t stop smiling even with her partner’s threat ringing in her ears. “Fair enough.”

  Chapter 15

  It was stupid. Jo knew it was stupid but telling herself that didn’t stop the nerves dancing the mambo in her stomach.

  She wasn’t a virgin. Hadn’t been one since the age of sixteen and the cute second baseman had caught her attention. But this felt different. Pacing in her small den, she bit her thumbnail. This meant something to her. Damn Rhys for taking things slow. If they’d already had sex, she wouldn’t be this nervous.

  What if he ended up like the rest? As soon as she slept with her other boyfriends they’d treated her like an afterthought. Expected her to become domestic and clean up after them, or God forbid . . . cook.

  Freezing in place, she glanced down at the dark blue sweater dress she’d settled on. Was the cashmere too fancy? Gah! She didn’t wear dresses and especially blue dresses. Before she could race back to her room and change yet again, the knocking at her door stopped her.

  No time. Wait. Maybe she could ask him to wait another thirty minutes. Women were always late, right?

  Another knock followed by Rhys’s voice. “Jo? I know you’re in there I saw your car. Don’t worry about what you’re wearing, hon, we’ll get takeout and head to my house.”

  She grinned. The man knew her. Instead of opening the door, she leaned her forehead against the plain white portal. “What you’re saying is, if I was in pajamas and nothing else you’d be okay with that?”

  A low moan drifted through the fake wood of the door. “Depends, because I’m picturing slinky, satin pajamas done all in black and covering you from neck to ankle.”

  Laughing, she threw the locks and opened the door. “Nope. I wear bright multi-colored plaid pajama bottoms with a jersey most nights.”

  Jesus, the man wore clothes well. A maroon button-down molded his chest and set off his eyes making them look warmer. The black leather belt perfectly matched the custom-made leather jacket and accented his trim waist, while the tailor-made dark gray slacks hugged him in all the right places.

  Narrowed gold eyes flashed with heat, then turned cool. “Jersey? Given to you by someone you used to date?”

  “No, by my dad who knows how much I love football.”

  “Oh, then that’s okay.” He leaned in, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. “Got a bag?”

  “Wait. What the hell kind of kiss is that?” Jo wanted more, craved more. Her body thrummed with heat.

  “One that won’t get us into trouble before I get you to my place.”

  That made her spin on the heel of her strappy-heeled shoes, grab her bag and hurry him out the door. His chuckles as she locked up and raced down the stairs were music to her ears.

  It was close to an hour before they turned onto his street. The view hadn’t changed since the last time she’d been here. Though she didn’t remember much about the drive to his house after Terry was shot. Nor the race to his doorway. Jo’s only memory was of him gathering her in his arms in his shower and helping her get the blood of her best friend off her.

  “It’s a damned castle.” She bit her lip and winced.

  His deep chuckle shot heat through her. “Jo, you were here a few days ago.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” she trailed off, not wanting to relive why she’d raced to his house. Her instinctual need for safety and comfort had led her to him.

  The house wasn’t the largest in Mountain Brook, but the gray stone structure was still impressive with its classic wooden beams and sharp angles. The overall impression she received when looking at his home was a castle. A turret even peeked over the roofline in the back.

  The slamming of the trunk pulled her out of her reverie, and she opened her car door before he could come around. Stepping onto the circular driveway, she swiped her sweaty palms over her dress and closed the door.

  Juggling the takeout bags and her suitcase, he eyed the front door and then his full hands. Instead of offering to take one of the items, she pressed against his back and slid her hands into each of his pockets.

  A startled gasp followed by a low moan gave her courage and she brushed a finger over his growing erection.

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  She leaned up and nipped the nape of his neck. “Not playing. Now which one opens the damned door?”

  He tipped his chin at the second one. Jo shoved the key into the lock and twisted. She wanted in—screw the food, screw her bag, screw waiting for a second longer.

  Grabbing the takeout from him, she left him laughing at the front door as she made a beeline to the refrigerator and shoved the containers of food on one of the empty shelves. Strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her off her feet. Jo’s shoes clattered to the tiled floor.

  “Impatient, are we?” he teased.

  She leaned back and nipped his chin. “Hell, yeah.”


  With a growl, he swung her around, shut the refrigerator door with his hip and carried her down the hall that led to his room.

  The bedroom was the way Jo remembered. A large bed dominated the room, the dark wood gleaming under the overhead light. A deep burgundy spread brought out the darker reds in the wood. Matching drapes covered the windows, keeping the night at bay.

  Within a few steps, he laid her on the bed, flipped on the lamp and the overhead light off. Somewhere between the entrance and the bedroom he’d lost her bag, his jacket, and his shoes.

  He trailed a hand up her stocking encased leg and froze, his eyes darkened to amber. “Thigh highs?”

  “Might be garters under there too.” Her fingers smoothed across the soft cashmere dress she’d bought on a whim several years ago. The deep blue color, not something she normally wore, made her eyes appear darker, or so the salesclerk claimed. With her foot, she pushed him back. “I’ll make you a deal. You take those pants and that shirt off and I’ll take the dress off.”

  He shook his head, but his fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. “Different deal. You leave that dress on and I get to peel you out of it myself.”

  The predatory glow in his eyes sent licks of lava flowing through her veins. A sharp nod the only answer she could produce. Every thought in her head scattered like dust in the wind at the first sight of him.

  Christ. He was gorgeous. She’d gotten the impression of muscles from the way he moved, the way he held himself. The overalls he worked in and the clothing he wore hid his muscular frame well.

  Sleek muscles wrapped lovingly around his arms and body. He wasn’t muscle bound like Maker and Ramirez, more toned with a hint of a six-pack. The honey-gold of his skin covered his entire torso, accented by enough hair to arouse her without feeling like she was sleeping with a rug.

  Standing at the foot of the bed, he shed his pants, leaving his black boxer briefs on. Jo opened her mouth to protest only to snap it closed at the slight smirk on his lips. Heat flared through her when he surprised her again, climbing onto the bed and stalking up her body. Gentle hands pushed her legs into a wider V.