Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4)

by Freya Barker

  "First of all, watch your mouth and secondly, I’m breathing, and that apparently ticks her off. I have no idea, Fox, but I'll fix it. Get some rest."

  I put my head down on the bed beside his hand and close my eyes, fighting the urge to cry. Fox was coming home tomorrow and I had planned on spending a week at home with him. I should have plenty of vacation time banked, but I guess our wretched hospital administrator is intent on making my life even more difficult. It's ok. I can deal. I've dealt with other people's shit all my life; this isn't new. I just need a few minutes to pull back from this looming depression I feel myself sliding into. Once I do that, I can tackle anything again. Right.

  I feel fingers scratching my skull and know it's Fox. He used to do this a lot when he was little, run his little fingers in my hair and scrape the fingertips over my scalp. Even as a toddler it was his way to soothe himself... and maybe me. Oh baby.

  "What's wrong with her?" Joe's voice stops the fingers on my head and I miss their magic already.

  When I lift my head, he's crouched down beside me, his hand on my knee and his face so close, it wouldn't take much to put my lips on his. Jesus.

  "I'm ok, Joe," I answer before Fox has a chance to say anything.

  "You're sad."

  "Nah. Just a little worn, that's all."

  "Why don't you go home for a bit?"

  "Can't. Your girlfriend just informed me not five minutes ago, she changed the schedule so I have to work overnight, starting at nine tonight. Not to mention she nixed my time off to look after Fox so I'll have to make some sort of arrangement for that." I can't help the bitter bite in my tone, thinking he is at least in a small part responsible for pissing the bitch off. But when he drops his head down looking like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders, I feel guilty for laying it on so thick.

  "I'm sorry, I..."

  "No. Don't apologize, although she never was, nor will she ever be, my girlfriend. I do take full responsibility for not seeing her for the vindictive shrew she is sooner. I'm sorry to have put you in this position. Let me talk to her, I—"

  I stop him. I'm not about to let him do that. It would only make things worse.

  "Don't think so Joe. You jumping in for me one more time would only add fuel to the flames. No thanks. I'll handle it," I say with much more conviction than I feel.

  "What brought you back here anyway?"

  His eyes flick over to Fox before coming back to me. "I was planning to check in on you guys anyway at some point, but eh... there was an incident in the park earlier and Michael Vincent, the other boy we picked up at Crow Canyon the other night? He was injured."

  My hand automatically seeks out Fox's, which is clenched in the sheet.

  "What happened?" Fox almost whispers.

  "He was attacked at the public washrooms in the City Park. It's pretty serious, bud, but he's in good hands now and I'll keep you up to date. Promise. Listen, I know you just got out of surgery and I'm not going to bug you now, but do you think maybe tonight, before your mom starts her shift, I could come back and talk to you? I know you told me as much as you could that night, but I know a few more things now, and would like to pass those by you. Think that'd be okay?"

  Joe looks at me, even though the question is directed at Fox and I see deep concern etched there. My balanced life is just crumbling to dust between my fingers when I realize his concern is for my son. I nod my assent.

  "I need your mom for a sec. Promise she'll be right back."

  With a small nod in the direction of the hallway, he indicates he wants me to follow. I turn to Fox, try to give him a reassuring smile and a quick kiss on the top of his head.

  "Two clicks, Bub."

  Out in the hallway, Joe pulls me in a quiet corner where he grabs my shoulders.

  "Michael was severely beaten and stabbed. They have him in surgery but he's critical. I saw the two guys going into the washroom with him, and also saw them run out. One of them was there at Crow Canyon, Doc. Fox has seen him, knows him, has talked to him. We need to make sure Fox stays safe."

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Hey, honey! So glad you're coming to stay with us. Finally someone who I hope will appreciate my cooking."

  "Shut it, woman. Don't tell me I don't appreciate your cooking; in the past two years you've grown me a potbelly."

  Fox finally cracks a smile, even though his face has read thunder since he found out we would be staying with Emma and Gus for a while.

  Between my new schedule change and the myriad of uncertainties in our lives right now, settling in under the roof of a well-known security specialist gives me some peace of mind. Well... technically we'll be in the guesthouse and Fox will be there alone overnight, which is partly why we are doing this. I wasn't going to send Fox to school this coming week anyway, since he is still recovering and when Joe suggested moving in with us, or us moving in with him, I had to put my foot down. No way. Too close for comfort. I'm just getting used to talking to the man again, let alone having to share my morning coffee with him, or God forbid, having to watch him parade around the house half naked after a shower. Yes, my mind just went there. Fuck. Anyway, the guesthouse at Gus and Emma's had been refuge for quite a few of our friends already, so it felt okay to accept the offer when it came last night. Both Gus and Joe feel that with the attack on Michael, as well as the question marks around James' disappearance, this is the safest route, until we have more answers.

  Emma already had Fox set up on their huge sectional couch with a plate of muffins that he was eagerly chowing down on.

  "Slow down, Bub. You just started eating solids this morning. The bathroom in the guesthouse is something special I hear, but not hanging around the toilet bowl, I'm sure."

  A roll of his eyes, but my kid isn't stupid; he knows I have a point and leaves it with the one muffin, putting the plate with the rest of them on the coffee table.

  "Didn't know you had a go at the shower in the guesthouse too?" Emma snickers when I walk into the kitchen on the hunt for a cup of coffee.

  "Shut up, you awful woman!" I laugh at her. "I never did, but one hears things; doctor privilege and all that."

  "Oh phooey. You are no fun. Everybody's 'done' that shower. That's why Gus had it put in."

  I stick my fingers in my ears and blow raspberries at her.

  "What did I put where?" Gus asks as he wraps his arms around his wife with a chuckle.

  "Hush, we've got kids in the house."

  "You are unbelievable Emma. You started with the sex shower and now you're scolding Gus?" I smile at her.

  "Hello! Right here... and eh, not so sure I want to even have a shower in this amazing bathroom at this point," Fox pipes up from the living room, where he obviously was able to follow the discussion word for word. We look at each other and burst out laughing.

  I'll have to get used to not driving to my house after my shift, which I almost do this morning. The night was relatively quiet, as weeknights often are, so I was able to check on Michael. I've never met the kid but Fox said he was 'okay,' which in sixteen-year-old speak is a seal of approval. He made it through his surgery, now minus a spleen and a portion of his liver, but he can grow old without those. Lucky kid. So far, no signs of infection which is the next major concern to look out for since his bowels were nicked and there was waste in his abdominal cavity. He was put on intravenous antibiotics right away and is being monitored very closely.

  Joe never managed to come back to question Fox, but called me yesterday to let me know he would be by today. Things were hectic, he said. I bet. It's not everyday someone is attacked so violently in the middle of the day in Cortez. He sounded tired.

  I love this drive to Cedar Tree. After exiting the 160 and turning onto County Road G, the scenery immediately changes. My thoughts immediately start wandering to the occasional chats I've had with Kendra about basing a clinic in Cedar Tree. I hadn't actually considered moving in that direction for quite a while yet, but given the atmosphere at the hospit
al and the shitty shift changes I’ve been handed, I’m thinking maybe I should keep my eyes open for opportunities. Maybe I could see how Kendra would feel about actually moving forward on those plans. Sure, it would mean getting Fox back and forth to school in Cortez, but that shouldn’t be too difficult to manage.

  With my mind going a mile a minute, before I know it, I'm pulling into the driveway to Gus and Emma's house, and the guesthouse that is our home for at least the next week. I'm surprised to see Joe's truck sitting out front. It's barely nine thirty in the morning.

  I take the path alongside the house to the back, where the guesthouse is located and find the door unlocked. Fox must be up and about. A quick check in the bedroom confirms he is gone. Probably at the main house being stuffed by Emma. She has a tendency to love everyone to death with food. Not that you'll hear much complaining; she's a good cook and a kick-ass baker. Bakes all the pastries for the diner, since Seb prefers to stick to cooking and is happy to leave the muffins and pies to Emma.

  Fox and I share the bedroom, since the guesthouse only has one. With me working overnights, we don't have to get in each other's way. I don't mind sleeping on the couch either, if it comes to that, because Emma and Gus have a thing for huge sectionals. There is one in the living room here too.

  Stripping out of my scrubs, I grab a clean towel, toss it on the vanity and turn on the hot water in the shower. The infamous shower. Shower heads coming out of the walls in all directions make for a full-body massage and what was supposed to be a quick rinse, turns into a much longer session, with me moaning and groaning at the effect the jets of water have on my tired and aching muscles. When my stomach starts rumbling from hunger, I reluctantly get out, dry off and dress in some comfy yoga pants and a tee. Wet hair still up in a towel, I walk out of the bedroom, only to be startled by Joe standing in the middle of the living room.

  "Oh, wow, you scared me."

  "Yeah. I could tell you didn't know anyone else was here," he says with a smirk on his face and a pointed look toward the bathroom.

  "What do you mean? I was just..." Suddenly it hits me. "How long have you been standing here?"

  "Long enough."

  "I... I was just... I wasn't... Ahhh! I was just enjoying a relaxing shower!" With every stammer, he starts chuckling harder until finally I pull the wet towel off my head and toss it at him when he starts laughing out loud. Bastard.

  "Easy there, Doc. Assaulting an officer of the law with a wet towel is not helping your case."

  "Oh shut up, you ape."

  "Mom? Sheriff Morris?" Fox walks in and throws me a worried look that gets me laughing.

  "Nothing, Bub. We're just goofing around." I risk a quick glance in Joe's direction, who still wears a smug grin but has lost some of the sultry fire in his eyes.

  "That for me?" I point to the plate Fox carries in his hand.

  "Oh. Yeah, Emma loaded some food up for you. Man, she cooks a ton."

  "That she does," Joe says, "and she does it well too, but always for an orphanage. Hope you don't mind gaining a few pounds, ‘cause I can guarantee you will."

  "No thanks," I jump in, "my body carries plenty already. I'll try and avoid her kitchen."

  "I wouldn't mind bulking up a bit. Dad said I'm too skinny."

  I look at Fox and see a hint of sadness in his face. Was this something James did to Fox too? Put him down? And on physical appearance? Fuck, that hurts my heart. To think I voluntarily let him walk into that.

  I can sense Joe looking at me from the corner of his eye, before he turns to Fox. "You know, there's a really good gym not too far from your school I sometimes work out at. Not like those big chain gyms where all you see is rows of machines. This is much smaller, with a few guys that help out with training programs and keeping you on track. Even some punching bags and a ring, if you're interested in trying some mixed martial arts, you know? A bit of everything."

  Fox's eyes had shown increasing interest as Joe was talking, but at the last minute his face shut down.

  "Not for me,” he muttered avoiding Joe’s gaze. Besides, you have to be eighteen to sign up for those places."

  I'm just picking at the plate of breakfast, sitting back to see how this is going to play out, because for years I've wanted Fox to do something physical, something athletic, but whenever I've suggested anything, it's been shot down. Looks like maybe Joe's suggestion was going to go the same route.

  Joe throws me a little wink. "You've got a point, but I know the owner of this place, and he's ok with underage guys as long as they come with supervision." Before Fox has a chance to interrupt, Joe adds, "And it just so happens I go three times a week, usually around four or so in the afternoon, before it gets too busy. It's nice and quiet but frankly, I tend to have trouble finding a spotter. So you'd probably be doing me a favor if you tagged along once or twice. When you're feeling better of course. Although, you could get started on your legs I guess. But... I totally get it. If it's not your thing, it's not your thing." And with that he turns his back to Fox and faces me, a little smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

  "Were you going to eat all that?" He points at my plate.

  "Nope. I’ve picked at it enough. Have at it." I smile. Smart man. Over his shoulder, I can see the wheels in Fox's head turning, while Joe leisurely finishes off Emma's breakfast.

  "You know..." Fox starts, "I could probably help you out a couple of times a week. After school or something? If you really need a hand."

  I have to turn around to hide the smile on my face.

  "Yeah. That'd be great. How about we see about next week? Just so you can have a look around, get comfortable with the place. We'll sort the details later." Joe is very low key in his approach and I marvel at how a man who, by all accounts, has never been a parent, can be so smart at handling the most difficult of ages with such ease. When he looks up at me I mouth a 'Thank you,' and am rewarded with another wink.

  "Now on to a much less pleasant subject before your mom hits the sack. I don't know if she told you how Michael got hurt? I never got into details when you were in recovery."

  "She said he was stabbed by a couple of guys in the park."

  "Beaten severely and then stabbed in the stomach, yes. And he is very lucky. According to your mom, he came through surgery ok and as long as he can fight off any infection, he should be ok. His face will heal too. But Fox, these guys? I saw them. I saw them come out of the washroom and run off, and from what I could tell, at least one of them was at Crow Canyon with you guys."

  All color seems to drain from Fox's face and I hurry to sit next to him on the couch and put my arm around him.

  "What... Who?" he stammers.

  "Well, that’s where I need your help. I didn't get a great look at all of them down at the dig, but you would have. So if I describe the kids who were in the park with Michael, can you tell me if you've seen them before? Either at Crow Canyon or even somewhere else?"

  "Not sure I want to... " Fox is suddenly quiet in his response and Joe sits down on his other side, but I jump in first.

  "Look, Bub. I get it. I get you don't like to squeal. Hell, you probably don't want to talk after what happened to Michael, but the reality is, those guys know you were picked up, just like Michael. If they were afraid Michael was going to talk, you would be just as much of a threat already too. Baby, I'm not trying to scare you on purpose, but I also don't want you to stick your head in the sand and tell yourself that as long as you stay quiet you'll be ok. Keeping this kind of stuff to yourself is never a good idea. Let Sheriff Morris do his job, Bub. Please?"

  "And you can call me Joe, but your mom is right. I can't do much without your help."

  "Is that why we had to come here?" Fox wants to know looking at me. "You think they'll come after me? That's just great." He sinks back in the couch and runs his hand through his dark brown hair, in need of a cut. He looks scared with a wide-eyed glance in my direction, as if hoping to find the answers with me. But his problems aren’t a scra
ped knee or a bad dream this time. I’m as lost as he is and am relieved when Joe jumps in.

  "Look," Joe points out, "I don't know anything for sure at this point. Certainly not until I've had a chance to talk to Michael, which will hopefully be sometime today, but it would be smart to be a bit more cautious."

  "I guess, although I'm not sure what else I can tell you about the guy I haven't already told you."

  A bit of defiance returned to his demeanor and I was almost glad to see it instead of the worried and dejected look on his face. Joe just chuckles.

  "I'll ask and you just answer what you know. You'll be surprised how far we get."

  My questions start simple with clothes, a print on a T-shirt he might remember, brand of shoes; those kinds of things, before moving to actual physical descriptions. By that time, Fox is so concentrated on details, he's able to provide a much clearer description of the guy than he did a few days ago in the hospital.

  "Wow. I can't believe I knew all that. Cool."

  "It's an easy trick. When you ask someone for a description of anything; a person, a book, a movie, their brain often doesn't know how to sort through all the information it has stored, but when you break it up into smaller sections and then collect all the bits at the end, you get a more complete picture. What we have now is a young man wearing Etnie skate shoes, dark blue with grey lettering, worn jeans with a chain hanging from his belt loop to his pocket, a dark old Creed shirt, has short-cropped dark blond to brown hair, light colored eyes, and is somewhere between eighteen and twenty. Oh, and likely around five foot ten or eleven, because you said you could look him straight in the eye. I'm guessing that's your height?" I ask him.

  Fox nods with the hint of a smile on his face.

  "So is it? The same guy, I mean."

  Damn. He isn't gonna let me get away like I'd hoped, and from the eager look on Naomi's face, neither is she.

  "Sounds like one of them. Down to the T-shirt actually," I grudgingly admit. "Now the other guy I saw also had dark hair, but it was a bit longer, and he looked Hispanic. Also was a little lankier. He had a goatee, looked to be early twenties to me. Was wearing a football jersey and I could barely tell what kind of pants he had on, they were hanging so low; I think they may have been dark jeans. Know anyone who wears his jeans around his knees?"