by Freya Barker
This is where my big, strapping sixteen-year-old son loses it, but before I can get to him, Joe has him in those big comforting arms and lets him sob on him. My poor baby, such a burden to carry. And if that fucking asshole comes anywhere near my son again, I'm gonna put my scalpel skills to good use on his hide. Anger, fear and pain for my child battle it out in my chest and I feel like throwing up when Caleb comes over and pulls me up of the couch.
"Come on you girls, let's give these guys some time," he says, urging us to the back deck.
"That's my son in there. Wait a minute!" But my protests fall on deaf ears as I find myself pushed into one of the big loungers on the deck.
"Yes. Your son, who was treated like shit and put in danger by his asshole father and who would probably feel like even less of a man if his mother were to shed tears over him now. Let Joe take care of him."
"He's just a boy," I protest.
"I spent an afternoon with him, watching him empty clip after clip into a pile of targets, scratching his balls and getting high off adrenaline. Your son is a man," Caleb says firmly.
"Fine, but did you have to mention the ball scratching? I could've done without that visual," I mumble, causing Katie to laugh.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Neil's coming down for the pig roast this weekend anyway, so I had Dana book him a room at the motel while Naomi and Fox are still in the guesthouse. He's finishing up on a file this morning and will hit the road this afternoon. I have to go on a short run next week, but with Katie so close to her due date, Caleb's gonna stay close to home and Neil will hang around. Of course we have Mal now too."
"Sounds good, Gus. Thanks. Makes me feel better knowing they're covered while I try to dig through this shit heap."
Since Fox finally told us about the reasons he was sent back to Cortez, I've been in constant contact with the Phoenix PD. One of their detectives is scheduled to get down here early next week to take Fox's statement, but it had taken me a day and a half of dealing with their threats of obstruction of justice if I didn’t immediately hand deliver Fox to them, as well as a phone call from Gus to one of his many contacts, before they toned down and agreed to meet at my office instead. No way in hell was I going to step back and let them work that kid over. Especially not after I could feel every guilty tear he shed work into my heart. Neither he nor his mom were going to be without my protection at any time. Besides, those idiots still haven't been able to tell me the whereabouts of Maxim Heffler.
I haven't seen Naomi since I kissed her on the porch at Emma's when I dropped her and Fox off. I'd briefly spoken to Gus and she was waiting for me outside when I left, just like I'd asked. I didn't think Fox was ready to see his mom make out with the sheriff and I needed to have my mouth on her before this case would suck me up. And suck me up it did. I've only managed to talk to her on the phone twice and haven't been back to Cedar Tree yet.
Just as I thought things with the Phoenix PD were under control, I got a call from the Cortez police chief, giving me a head's up that a partial fingerprint had been found on a red crayon found in Fox's room. Since the message on his wall was done in crayon and no other crayons were found in the house, the assumption was whoever wrote the message brought the crayon and must've accidentally left it there. A stroke of luck, ‘cause getting prints off paper is always a hit or miss. They ran it through AFIS and it came back belonging to a small-time crook from Grand Junction who had done some time in juvie before getting hit with his first felony charge for drug trafficking two years ago.
I've been on the go since seeing his mug shot. It was the goatee guy from the attack on Michael. I had been absolutely wrong in dismissing them for the break-in at Naomi's. Apparently our young friend is more refined than I’d given him credit for. Felipe Rivas has been front and center on my mind ever since, and I'm eager to get my hands on him. Underestimating him was a mistake I won't make again. He may be a small time criminal, but that was a sophisticated mind-fuck he left for Fox, and something about it still didn't smell right.
For now, Fox and his mom would be safe in Cedar Tree and I'd like to keep it that way. Gus is instrumental in making sure of it.
"So has Naomi mentioned anything about those places she was planning to check out yesterday?"
"I heard her mention to Emma last night that one of the places looked promising, but she wants to show Kendra first. Why don't you give her a call yourself and find out?"
"I might. You haven't mentioned anything yet about Wednesday's meeting with the detective from Phoenix, have you?"
"You said you would handle it, so I didn't. You gonna handle it?" Gus wants to know.
"Yeah. I'm gonna handle it."
"Sometime before Wednesday?" Gus is testing me now and he knows it, judging by the barely concealed chuckle I hear.
"Fuck off. I said I'll handle it."
Truth is, I don't want to do this over the phone. I want to look her in the face when I tell her, because I have a feeling she might freak. Either at the fact that Fox is now considered a person of interest by the Phoenix PD, or the fact that I've risked my badge trying to keep her and her son tucked away in Cedar Tree for now. I'll have to though. Today, because as far as I know, she is back on shift at the hospital this week, and wouldn't be hard to track down there. I'll have to convince her to call in sick, or try and figure this the fuck out before then. With so many loose threads in my hands going in different directions, the latter seems more and more unlikely.
Carol holds me up on my way out the door.
"Joe, a Frank Bancroft called for you when you were on the phone. Says he's from some law firm in Phoenix?"
I recognize the name, although what James Miller's law partner wants to talk to me about is beyond me. First priority is to get Naomi up to speed, before I get bogged down even further.
"Leave his number on my desk, thanks Carol. I'll catch him later," I tip my hat at her on my way out to the parking lot.
In my truck I quickly dial Naomi. "Hey Doc, are you home?"
"Joe." The way she says my name, like she wanted to hear my voice as much as I wanted to hear hers, does something to me.
"Say my name like that again and I won't be able to drive straight." I smile when I hear her chuckle. It's a good sound and there's been too little of it lately. "Heading over. Any chance you're alone?" I add, living in hope and earning another laugh from her.
"Sorry. I wish."
"Fuck, woman. You're making it hard on me," I grind out, shifting to relieve the growing pressure against my zipper.
"I think that's the nicest thing someone's said to me in a long time," she plays my words back at me and the sultry tone that has slipped into her voice makes me want to slip my hand in my pants and palm my ever-growing erection. Parking lot of the County Sheriff's Office. Right.
"Honey, unless you want me to lose my job for indecent exposure, you better let me go so I can get on the road. See you soon."
All I hear is her soft giggle as she hangs up.
With an uncomfortably hard cock crowding my pants, but a big dumb smile on my face, I pull out of my parking spot.
I have no idea why I'm so giddy today. Actually, that's a lie; I have a pretty good idea.
The past few days have been pretty intense, with Fox freaked out, asking questions I don't really have answers to, and Jenna Stanley on the phone trying to make me pick up extra shifts again. Guess she hasn't heard the word 'no' much in her life, because she just will not let up. On top of all that, I haven't seen Joe since that scorcher of a kiss on the porch. A kiss that left me feeling highly unsatisfied, and no way to relieve it with Fox sleeping a few feet away in the bedroom.
This state of limbo is not agreeing with me, edging me ever so close to either a repeat anxiety attack or that dreaded pit of despair I don't want to end up in. So I'm done feeling out of control and am grabbing the bull by the horns. Fox may not like it—yet—but something tells me this is the right time, when life is upside down already, to see how I can mak
e some of those ideas I've been toying with a reality. We need a new place—because there is no way in hell I'll ever feel at home or secure again in my house—and I need to look for a space suitable for a clinic. If the two can be combined, even better.
Now Cedar Tree isn't that big, with a population of maybe 1200 or so, but I know with the neighboring Ute reservation and the abundance of even smaller towns dotting the area, I can make a go of this. One of the reasons the emergency room at the hospital gets overrun so often is because there are few other options around for medical care. Sure, there are some clinics in Cortez itself, but it isn't easy to even get an appointment, and most those doctors are affiliated with the hospital and split their time. No. I want a clinic that is set up like a more old-style family practice. Where people can come in for anything that ails them and only when needed will they be referred through to the hospital or a specialist. A lot of the simpler treatments, I can handle on the spot. With Kendra on board to offer PT, and hopefully a nurse practitioner at some point to help with the daily clinics, this would be a dream come true.
Arlene actually came up with a few suggestions, one of which I really love. The old feed-store has apparently been empty since 2010, when the much bigger farm and ranch supply place in Cortez opened and slowly killed the smaller business. The owners stuck around for another two years in the attached farmhouse, but ended up finally moving away. The place has been vacant ever since. Just south off the main thoroughfare right before hitting the town line of Cedar Tree, it sits on a decent parcel of land visible from the road. At least the storefront and the parking lot are; the house itself is set to the back and shielded by old grove trees.
I wish Joe had been with me. Fox refused to come, preferring to mope around the guesthouse and play on his Xbox, so I went with Emma. But I think Joe's insight might've been helpful. Kendra would have to see it too. Emma can turn grits into caviar and was excited about the possibilities for the place, but I don't have that kind of creative vision. She did get me all worked up and enthusiastic, but I need Joe's voice of reason to balance it out. We spoke briefly the other day and I told him about my plans to have a look around. He seemed to like the idea, and said he would've loved to tag along, but he was tied up with work.
I’ve surprise myself at the way I've slid into this supposed 'friendship' of ours. I mean, I hated the man for years. Okay fine, not hated exactly, but just seeing him or hearing his name would piss me off. Now here I am, suddenly wanting his input.
I shouldn't be surprised that the phone rings right then and seeing that it's Joe, I already have a smile on my face. A little bit of sexy banter later along with the knowledge that he is on his way, and not even Fox's dark scowl from the couch can burst my giddy bubble. I so badly want to get horizontal with that man; that is if I haven't forgotten how by now. Having a broody sixteen-year old man-child around, makes that a bit of a challenge though. I do slip outside, leaving Fox to get sucked back into his game. The pathway that runs along the cottage to the guesthouse in the back is pretty sheltered on the side of the garage, so I lean against the stucco wall there. Waiting for that familiar truck to pull up.
The truck barely comes to a stop before the door flings open and Joe comes barrelling towards me. He must've spotted me in the glare of the headlights, because his eyes are on me until his body is pressed up against mine, my back against the wall.
"Had to see you." His voice is low and gruff and his hands cup my face before his mouth descends on mine, kissing me with such passion it draws the breath from me. I hang onto his neck and curl a leg around him, trying to draw him as close as I can to me. His lips leave mine feeling bruised and swollen as he places kisses along my jaw and down my neck. Lifting my breasts in his hands he presses them together as he dips his face in my cleavage, breathing deep.
"You smell so fucking good. I could stand here all day, breathing you in."
"I missed you."
At my words his head pops up and a slow smile spreads over his face. "You did?"
"Yup."
"Missed you too, Doc," he says, planting a kiss on my lips, "And I would like nothing more than to continue this and end up buried so deep inside you I'll never want to leave again, but I know your son is inside and we have stuff to discuss."
I try on a pout to hide the impact his words have on me, but it only makes him chuckle. Untangling himself from my limbs, he grabs my hand and pulls me to the guesthouse.
"Bub, you want something to drink?"
"Ginger ale, Mom."
Joe's asking Fox about the game we find him playing, while I get some coffee going. I figure Joe's trying to put Fox at ease a little because the tension was visible on his face the moment we walked in together. God only knows what is playing through his head and frankly, although I trust Joe, I'd like to know what is up.
After putting everyone's drinks on the coffee table I sit in the club chair and face Joe and Fox on the couch.
"Right," Joe clears his throat. "As you know, I've had to contact the Phoenix PD to let them know what Fox heard. Like I mentioned might happen, they’ve insisted on talking to him themselves. Now I'm not willing to tell them where you are until I know who I can and cannot trust. They weren't too happy about it, but with a bit of help, we managed to arrange a meeting in my office for Wednesday."
Fox is sitting very still next to Joe and other than nervously playing with the buttons on the controller in his hand and bouncing his leg, he's showing very little emotion. My own heart is pounding in my chest though, so I'm sure he's not doing much better.
"Am I in trouble?"
Joe quickly looks at me before turning his attention to Fox again. "You could be, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I hope you don't mind, but I have asked a lawyer friend to be present at the interview. Your mother and I will be there too, if they let me. I don't think you should worry about anything. You have some friends with really good connections who have experience dealing with stuff like this. Just trust us, okay?" He gives Fox's jumping knee a squeeze and throws me a reassuring smile.
I'm trying to decide whether to be angry at him for being presumptuous in making all these arrangements without consulting me first, or whether to be grateful for making sure we were taken care of. Guess the struggle is visible on my face, because he ends up sitting on the coffee table, his face inches from mine.
"There are a lot of things I'd like to do to lighten your load, but I can't. It's your life and you have to make decisions yourself. This though? This happened to be something I'm better equipped to handle, so I did. You can be mad, but it wouldn't make a difference. Let me shoulder this."
"You know you're sneaky when you're being all reasonable like that, right?" I tell him, lightly stroking my thumbs over the calloused palm of his hand I find myself holding. The light abrasion of his rough skin on the pads of my fingers has my nerve ends buzzing. The thought of feeling those rough hands skimming over the swells of my breasts, turns my nipples hard and I gasp audibly.
"Naomi," comes a low warning growl from Joe, right before the loud slam of the bedroom door that has the windows rattling in their frames.
Fuck. Guess my son just had a front row seat on the chemistry between the sheriff and his mom. Works just like a cold shower.
Joe leaves shortly after that with a lingering kiss just outside the door, but not before cautioning me.
"Look, I'll try to pop in again, but for sure I will see you tomorrow at the pig roast. Oh, before I forget; please stick to Cedar Tree. I need you to try and get some time off work, call in sick if you have to. Apparently no one knows Maxim Heffler's whereabouts."
When he sees the confused look on my face at the name, he clarifies, "The guy who was on trial? He's the one we think Fox overheard his dad talking to. He's in the wind, and there is still the threat on you from the message left at your house. It's easier for Gus and the guys to keep an eye out when you are both here. If you drive back and forth into Cortez, even with someone looking out for
you, it would be too easy to track you back here from the hospital."
"But what about you? When you come here?"
"First of all, why would anyone assume I have a personal connection with you? And secondly, even if they did, all they would see is a sheriff doing what he's always done. Even when it comes to visiting here. Look, I know it's a pain, but try to lay low for a little, okay?"
No, I'm not okay with it but I'll deal, because I know I have to.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Let's go, Bub. Don't want to keep Emma and Gus waiting."
Fox is dragging his ass getting ready and it's getting under my skin. We were supposed to be getting a ride with Gus to Caleb and Katie's for their housewarming pig roast, but at this rate we'll be late. Grabbing my phone, I send a quick text to Emma to let her know to go ahead. I'll take my own car and be right behind them. My phone rings almost right away.
"You sure?" Gus wants to know. I should've known the uber-protective man would want to hear it directly from me before trusting a text message.
"Yeah. My son is being a pain in my ass right now. We won't be long. Just let them know we're on our way."
"Okay. Naomi? Just in case, keep the phone handy and lock the car doors from the inside."
"Will do."
Way to make a girl feel safe. I was gonna jump at shadows now.
I'm excited about tonight, or at least I was until Fox started being a pest. Even dressed up a little; put on the best jeans and a slinky top I found in the bottom of my haphazardly thrown together bag. I'm really going to have to do something about our clothes. We can't keep washing the same stuff over and over again. Even put on some make-up, all because it almost feels like a date tonight. With Joe.
