Skin Heat

by Ava Gray

  But worse than the way it looked? The smell. Halfway, he stopped, overcome by the stink the wind carried to him. Something dead.

  Clutching the box to his chest, he sprinted back the way he’d come and rounded the building. It was black as sin back here; someone had smashed the lights above the door, which stood open at a drunken angle. Glass crunched under his feet as he stepped into the clinic. The emergency lights were on, giving the place a queer orange glow.

  “Power not working?” He spoke into the dark.

  Neva answered, “Seems like they cut it, trying to get the alarm off.”

  “That’d be my guess,” the deputy agreed, taking his cue from her. “But who’s that?”

  Easily he found the other man in the half light. He didn’t give Neva a chance to explain him away. Though he knew it was too soon for him to be anything else to her, he didn’t want to hear himself described as help. “Zeke Noble.”

  They shook, and then continued the walk-through, Pickett shining his light around. “Can you tell what’s missing?”

  “I’ll have to take inventory, but it looks like they went for the painkillers.”

  “Junkies,” Pickett said in disgust. “They’ll shoot up with anything.”

  Neva’s voice rang heavy with fear. “Deputy, this stuff is strong enough to kill somebody. They stole what I use on farm animals.”

  Pickett grumbled a word and then apologized for saying it in front of Neva. “I need to fill out the report, but if you’d rather, we can do it in the morning.”

  Obviously he didn’t know her very well. Zeke wasn’t surprised when she answered, “No, let’s get this over with.”

  He stashed the kittens in a safe corner and left them talking. It seemed unlikely junkies would know how to cut the power in any permanent way, so he went to check it out. Five minutes later, after tinkering with the fuse box, he had the lights back on.

  The place looked worse that way. Everything that could be broken had been, not just the medicine cabinet. Someone had taken the computer from her office desk and thrown it on the floor. The rampage puzzled him. To him, it looked like the people who’d done this hated Neva, and wanted to hurt her. By her crushed expression, they’d sure succeeded. It tore his heart.

  Pickett was asking her a series of questions. Zeke wanted to get the broom and start cleaning, but he knew better. The sheriff’s office might not have much in the way of resources, but they’d get someone out here to print the place at least, so he made sure not to touch anything else. He kicked a spot on the floor free from glass and sat down to wait.

  The kittens mewed, not from hunger, but because they sensed something bad in the air, maybe the same thing Zeke had smelled outside. He slipped a hand inside the blanket and his spirit settled a little when all three of them wriggled over to his hand and lay down on his fingers like live little mittens. He sat quietly until a break came in the questions.

  “Check that car in the parking lot,” he suggested softly.

  Pickett glanced his way with an arch of a brow. “What car?”

  “Nothing’s open. Why’s it still here?”

  “I didn’t even notice it,” Neva said. “I wonder whose it is.”

  The deputy got to his feet. “Maybe somebody had car trouble, or went home with a coworker.” But even as he offered the possibilities, he was heading out to have a look.

  That raised his stock in Zeke’s eyes; he felt less like growling at Pickett, as he had ever since Neva sat down with him. Damn. Really gotta get a handle on this.

  He lifted his eyes from the kittens to find her watching him. “You know something.”

  His heart sank. Surely she didn’t think he had anything to do with this break-in. It’d kill him to walk away from this job—and her—under a cloud of suspicion. He could only ask, “What?” in a voice he hoped didn’t give away his fear.

  “There’s a reason you sent the deputy to look at the car.” She sounded sure, dark eyes steady on his and demanding the truth.

  Zeke nodded, without meaning to, because it invited other questions.

  “Why?”

  Neva held her breath, wondering if he’d answer. Wondering if he’d be truthful with her. She’d put so much trust in him, relatively quickly, and what did she know about him, after all? Lillian would be appalled.

  His answer surprised the shit out of her. “Smelled bad.”

  “The car?”

  Zeke wasn’t looking at her anymore; his next nod came slower as he stroked the kittens. She could see his fingertips moving slowly, delicately beneath the blanket. Getting answers out of him was like pulling teeth.

  “Bad how?”

  “Like there’s something dead in it.”

  His words hit like a ball-peen hammer in her chest. For a minute she couldn’t even breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Not here. The worst crime anybody had committed here in years involved Sam Pitney shooting his wife’s lover in the ass—and Ollie Wendell didn’t even die. Zeke had to be crazy. Had to be.

  But he knew other stuff, didn’t he? At times, he almost seemed to know things he shouldn’t. Or couldn’t. There was a terrible weight and wisdom in his eyes, as if those came as partners to the sorrow. Zeke slipped out then, probably to escape more of her questions, though he said he wanted to check the damage.

  When Bobby came back in, he looked sick. “I called the sheriff.”

  Oh no.

  “What did you find?” Neva asked through numb lips.

  The deputy sat down, looking sad and shaken. “A dead girl in the trunk. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it.” She knew she shouldn’t ask—so she didn’t—but Bobby seemed to have forgotten their existence, murmuring, “Poor gal didn’t have a stitch on, except those red ribbons.”

  For Neva, that conjured an awful, vivid image of pale skin and satin that gleamed like blood. She wanted to cling to her disbelief: things like that didn’t happen in Harper Creek. But the deputy’s shaken face said otherwise.

  “Do you think this has anything to do with the break-in here?”

  Bobby shrugged. “It’s not for me to say. I’ll need you to stick around. There may be questions.”

  Sheriff Raleigh arrived quickly. In his early fifties, the sheriff was still fit, but showing his age in the speed of his movements and the silver in his hair; his face was all craggy lines in the half morning light. He greeted her first, which she thought was a waste of time, but he’d never forget who her father was. Once he’d done that, he went to look in the trunk. Neva slipped outside to watch the action; Zeke stood off to the side, doing the same.

  “You were right to call me,” Raleigh told Pickett. “I’ll let the staties know we got work for them.”

  Just before dawn, the parking lot filled with vehicles from the county crime lab and the coroner’s office. Photographers snapped pictures and all Neva could do was repeat that she’d come in response to a message from the alarm company.

  Raleigh gave Neva an absent smile; he golfed and hunted with her father. No surprise there. Conrad Harper made a point of cultivating the acquaintance of anyone who mattered or who might one day be in a position to do him a service. She’d never imagined a scene like this outside the movies. The other deputies all looked about like Bobby Pickett, tense and unhappy. They were trying to sound professional, but they didn’t handle business like this. Not here. She made sure not to get in anyone’s way, but she listened, too.

  “No visible wounds. No bruising. She hasn’t been dead long.”

  Zeke had known. Whether he’d actually smelled death from across a parking lot . . . well, that claim strained credulity. They weren’t saying she was in bad shape, so the stench wouldn’t carry on the wind. And offered more disturbing possibilities. How else could he have known?

  I’d have heard his truck, if he’d left, she told herself. And then a little voice whispered, But he runs. Would you hear him running? You didn’t even hear your phone. She’d woken up with him perched on the side of her bed. What do
you know about him, really? Neva slid him a glance out of the corner of her eyes. Was he too interested in the proceedings? But no, he had been with her; he couldn’t have made it back to the house before the alarm went off. Unless he’d left the car and someone else broke into the clinic. Were the two crimes related? Her head began to ache.

  No, she didn’t believe he had the capacity to hurt anyone. She trusted him.

  “Not natural causes,” one of the deputies said. “You don’t put a girl in the trunk of a car if she died in her sleep.”

  Pickett agreed with a nod. “Damn shame. She looks so young.”

  “Do we know who she is?” Raleigh asked.

  “No ID on her. No purse in the car, either.”

  “Did you run the plates before popping that trunk?” the sheriff demanded.

  “Yes, sir,” Bobby said nervously. “It was reported stolen in Birmingham five days ago.”

  Birmingham. Without realizing she’d been holding her whole body so tense, Neva relaxed. That poor girl had nothing to do with the clinic, nothing to do with Harper Creek. She just had the misfortune to wind up dumped here by some maniac traveling through. Not that she was pleased to imagine he might get away with it, but it was worse to think it might’ve been done by somebody she knew.

  “Cold out,” Zeke said at her left shoulder. “Come inside.”

  Sheriff Raleigh broke away from the car and strode toward the clinic. “I got a better idea. Go on home. I’ll supervise the team myself when they get to the inside of the clinic and then lock up for you. Bobby doesn’t need anything else. If he does later, he knows how to use the phone.”

  Because she was a Harper, they weren’t going to ask her any questions. She should be pleased she could leave but the unfairness ate at her a bit. Anybody else would be interviewed and asked if she’d seen anything useful. But she was too tired to argue.

  “Thanks, Cliff.”

  “Anything for you, Geneva.” His insistence on calling her by her full name, because her mama and daddy did, set her teeth on edge.

  She didn’t let it show as she walked away. Zeke got the kittens and then caught up with her. It was almost time for their next feeding, and they spoke of their hunger in plaintive tones. She drove them back to the farm in weary silence; he didn’t press her, no words at all as he went to fetch the supplies.

  They cared for them without speaking. The sun had come up fully by the time they finished. She watched him settling the kittens and she dismissed her momentary doubt. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder:

  “How close did you get to the car? You didn’t touch it, did you?” If they found his prints on the vehicle, it would cause Zeke no end of trouble.

  “No.”

  There was something strange about him, but she didn’t think there was any harm. He’d gone out of his way to help her, more than once, without any expectation she’d reward him with introductions to her father or give him money he hadn’t earned. Few people did, and she felt guilty over her momentary doubt. Maybe he just had a keen sense of smell. Hadn’t she gotten mad at Ben for refusing to put any faith in her gut feelings? They’d started fighting about Luke—and his worry that she was setting herself up for worse pain by believing her brother wasn’t dead.

  Like I need to think about him now, like I don’t have enough trouble.

  “It’ll be a while before we can clean up and reopen for business.” Her voice broke. “Longer before I can replace everything they smashed.”

  Likely she should be more upset about the dead girl, but they hadn’t let her get a look, so it didn’t seem as real as the destruction. Or maybe she was just tired. She didn’t know how much more resolve she had left. One of these days, the fight might become too hard. Maybe at that point, she’d be ready to live as her parents wanted and just coast on their expectations and accomplishments.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  At first she didn’t know why the sentiment sounded so strange, coming from him, and then she realized. He’d used all the words, pronoun and verb, with intensifier. Three little words, but they meant so much more. She raised her face and found him standing very close. Not towering, but near. His proximity felt like a question: I’m here if you want me. Do you?

  Neva answered by taking two steps closer and then his hands curled around her upper arms. He drew her in as if he were afraid she might shatter. When her cheek met his chest, a sigh slid out of her. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, and she wound her arms about his waist. She noted the way his muscles tensed and leapt at her touch.

  “Every time I get close to being settled, something like this happens.” An emotion akin to despair coiled through her.

  “What else?”

  “At first it was little things. Vandalism outside. Windows broken. And then there was a small fire. To make matters worse, I can’t keep anyone but Julie on staff. I don’t know why. I don’t think it’s a bad place to work. I swear, it feels like I’m cursed sometimes.” She exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry. That sounds melodramatic.”

  “Sounds like somebody trying to make you fail.”

  She’d thought so once, too, but she’d installed a few cameras, and never caught anyone sabotaging the place. Which made her feel even stupider. It couldn’t just be bad luck, could it? Well, maybe.

  “Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

  There would come a time when she couldn’t afford to start over anymore. But she wouldn’t just conform. If that time came, she’d leave Harper Creek and go to work for another veterinary practice. She’d hate leaving her patients, but she’d be damned if she’d choose a life she hated instead.

  “Fuck meant,” he growled.

  His tone startled her, so she tipped her head back to gaze into his face. He wore a look so intense she almost took a step back. But there was no anger in it, only fierce determination.

  “Zeke?”

  “Do what makes you happy.”

  “The clinic does,” she said softly. “And . . . you do.”

  That shocked him; she saw the flash in his eyes. But the corners turned up on the edges of his mouth. The heat of his hands shifted as they glided down her back to the curve of her hips. “Yeah?”

  Gathering her courage, she nodded. Despite the long, awful night, a spark of brightness gathered at her core, as if she hid a star inside her. The glow brightened into delight when she saw how he stared at her mouth. Nobody had ever looked at her that way, like she embodied all his sweetest dreams. She no longer cared what people would say or if it was suitable for her to feel this way about someone who worked for her. That one moment of doubt aside, she trusted him. Now she only cared if he wanted her back.

  “You’re not like anybody I ever met.”

  “That a good thing?” He sounded none too sure.

  “A very good thing,” she said fervently.

  “Okay to kiss you?”

  “You don’t need to ask.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Zeke dipped his head, half expecting her to stop him. His mouth brushed hers, and her lips parted. She raised on tiptoe and twined her arms around his neck. He lost every word he knew at the feel of Neva in his arms; better than he’d ever imagined. And he’d wondered about it a lot.

  Her honey-almond scent went straight to his head. He kissed her as he’d always wanted to—first with a boy’s tentative desire and then a man’s need. He wanted to remember each brush, each gasp, in case she never let him do it again. A shiver rolled through him as she cupped his head in her hands and deepened the kiss.

  Lips clung, teasing touches of tongue. He tasted her, and with each whisper of contact, the ache intensified.

  “I want you,” she whispered. “But will it be weird, afterward? I don’t want you to feel pressured—”

  He couldn’t help it. He laughed. Couldn’t she tell how much he needed her? He shook with it, just from that one little kiss. Two hours of nakedness with other women hadn’t gotten him this stirred up.

  She pulled back,
eyes wide. “What?”

  “Can’t make a man do this if he don’t want to. Least, not without blue pills and a coil of rope.”

  Neva grinned up at him, appreciating the joke. That warmed him as nothing had in the past months. It made him feel like maybe he wasn’t so broken after all. Maybe he could still live in the world with other people and have some small part in her life. Even if there was nothing more than this night, it’d be enough. It would be something real to take the place of all those empty dreams of her.

  “Then . . .” She shifted and he sucked in a breath at the painful pleasure of it. “I guess that means you’re . . . interested.”

  “Ain’t the right word.”

  The smile still lingered, but he couldn’t leash his intensity, even if it scared her. In fact it was all he could do to finish the conversation, so there could be no doubt she wanted this, too. If she touched his bare skin, he might carry her off like a caveman. He hoped she said yes and stopped talking soon because he was losing the thread of her words in the sweetness of her body against his. She said some other stuff and he nodded like he was listening, then this got through:

  “Let’s go to your room.”

  That was what he’d been waiting for. With a hungry little growl, he swept her into his arms. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, making him grin even more as he jogged up the stairs. Though he knew she had some weight to her, she felt like a bag of feathers.

  “Damn,” she breathed. “It must be all that running.”

  Must be. He didn’t want to think about all the ways he was different than other men right now. He wanted to lose himself in her and not think about the forest noises and the other intuitions whispering at the edges of his mind. Right now, there was only Neva, not the girl from his dreams, but better, because she was real and she wanted him, too.

  In his bedroom, he set her on her feet and looked at the scuffed floor and dingy paint. The morning sunlight showed all the faults, down to the worn places on the sheets and the faded quilt his grandmother had made. It suddenly didn’t seem good enough for her, and he wasn’t, either. The edge of desire didn’t go away, but it gained a layer of desperation and sadness.