Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4)

by Freya Barker

  I bristle at the last and open my mouth ready to launch into a defense when Joe simply puts his hand on my mouth, effectively silencing me.

  "Beautiful, you think maybe he carries guilt? You and I both know he's got no reason to. But he knows you. He knows you won't hesitate in telling him that and he's not in a place where he can hear it yet. He'll get there. Give him some time."

  While he's talking, Joe is stroking me as if to calm me and I'm irritated that it works.

  "You annoy me," I tell him which only makes him chuckle.

  "Why's that?"

  "’Cause I don't like it when you make better sense of my son than I do. I'm his mom," I admit grudgingly.

  "I'm a guy. He's a guy. It's that easy, babe," he says, the smile evident in his voice as his arms tighten around me.

  The little pocket of peace in the comfy club chair lasts only minutes, when it's interrupted by Joe's phone. I slide off his lap so he can fish it out of his pocket and go to busy myself in the kitchen to give him some privacy.

  "Morris." I watch Joe get up and start pacing, tension in his posture. "Right, have them wait in my office. I'll be there in twenty."

  "Everything okay?" I can't stop myself from asking when he slides the phone back in his pocket and pushes a hand through his hair. Almost distractedly, he looks over to me.

  "Yeah. No worries. Just have to go into the office for a bit. Think you'll be okay for a couple of hours? I'll be back as soon as I can, just don't take off on your own. Call Gus or Neil if you have to go out."

  I curb the urge to call him on his bossiness, because I don't like the bleak look I see in his eyes. That phone call was something. Instead I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist and lay my cheek on his chest. After a few seconds his arms come around me and I feel him breathe me in.

  "I'll be here," I tell him, tilting my head back and he slides a hand up my neck to rest on my cheek.

  "That'd be good."

  An all too brief touch of his mouth to mine and he's gone, the house quiet but my mind loud with questions.

  I'm tempted to go and check on Fox, but decide to give him a little more time to see if he'll come out of the room on his own. In the meantime I want to check in with Katie.

  "Hey girl. How's the new momma this morning?"

  "A little sore. The stitches are bugging me a little, but other than that we're doing fine. I've had food, I've managed to go pee normally, even though it burns like a son of a bitch and little peanut is as fascinated with my ever expanding boobage as his father. If I'd known I could go to a D-cup almost overnight, I might've done this baby thing sooner," she chuckles, making me laugh.

  "Good to know Mattias is taking to the breast so well, but don't be discouraged if there are days when you have to struggle with him. It's still a learning process for both of you. As for Caleb's fascination? Not sure I needed to know that, thanks." I can't help but smile when I visualize Caleb's adoration for his wife, not something he does well at hiding. "And Katie? Peanut is hardly an appropriate nickname anymore for the little bruiser you popped out. I was tempted to fit him with shoes for crying out loud."

  "Don't care how big he is, he'll always be our peanut. He'll just have to get used to it."

  The temptation to bare my soul to my friend is great, but I'm not going to burden her with my issues right now so when she asks how I am doing, I dodge.

  "I'm actually home for another day or two and am thinking of taking a second look at that old feed store. Maybe I'll call Clint and see what he thinks of the possibilities for what I have in mind."

  "Ohhh, that would be so exciting! I would love for you to be closer by. I know for a fact you won't be lacking for patients and you fit in here perfectly. You'll love it—I promise." Katie's enthusiasm lifts my spirits a little.

  "Is there anything you need from me right now? Because I'll come right away if you do, you know that. Otherwise, I'll check in again with you later. I’ll be by at some point to check on you guys in person."

  "We're fine. I promise I'll call."

  Just then I hear a knock at the door of the guesthouse and quickly say goodbye to Katie.

  On the doorstep are two men; one younger one who looked like he'd had a career in boxing at some point, his nose broken at least a few times, and the second an older, much slicker—slimier even—and well-dressed man, both holding out badges.

  "Ms. Waters?" the slimy one asks.

  "That's me."

  "Detectives Warner and Libretti of the Phoenix PD, ma'am. We'd like to speak to your son Fox Miller. Is he home?"

  "I'm sorry. What exactly is this about?" I know I'm being suspicious, but I clearly recall Joe saying that he had not revealed our whereabouts, arranging instead to have the detectives meet with us at his office tomorrow morning. So what they're doing on my doorstep wanting to talk to Fox about right now, I'm not quite sure, but I know I don't like it. Don't want to talk to them without the security of Joe here.

  "Ma'am, if you could just get him, we have some questions for him." It's the older one again, Libretti he said his name was. The other one is trying to look over my shoulder into the guesthouse and I find myself pulling the door closed a little, hoping Fox will stay in the bedroom until I get this figured out. Something feels off.

  "I'd be happy to as soon as you inform me what this is regarding, otherwise I'm sorry, I'll be forced to contact my lawyer. You're Phoenix PD, as you indicate, and as far as I understand we are about four hundred miles from your jurisdiction, so forgive me if I am a little cautious."

  "Ma'am. Ms. Waters—" the young one, Warner, says trying for a soothing tone, which only serves to raise my hackles further. "Your son's name has come up in two murder cases that we believe he holds crucial information on, or at the very least, had some knowledge of."

  At a loss for words, I sag against the door. Are they crazy? They think Fox had anything to do with that? Taking advantage of my shift in position, Libretti squeezes past me into the house before I realize what's happening.

  "Hey wait! I haven't given you permission. What are you doing?"

  I'm about to tear after him when I see him going into the hallway to the bedroom and bathrooms, but my arms are suddenly pulled behind me and I'm being pushed face first into the door.

  "I'm charging you with obstruction of justice and the possible harboring of a fugitive, ma'am." Detective Warner's voice is close to my ear. Too close and shivers run down my spine, but my temper flares anyway.

  "Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you think I'm an idiot? You have no right to charge me or anyone else in this town. Hell, in this state! If you lay one finger on my son, I will come after you with every damn resource I have, and you may not think I have any, but you'd be terribly wrong!"

  I'm screaming at the top of my lungs when I see the older guy coming back into view... without Fox.

  "Ma'am you'd better calm down and tell us where your son is."

  Suddenly a new voice from behind me.

  "If you don't have those handcuffs off her in the next few seconds, your mother won't recognize you by the time I'm done with you. And if you are thinking of trying to throw any so-called 'official business' in my face, let me tell you that my wife is currently on the phone with my good friend, Assistant Chief Wayne Carr of the Phoenix Police Department. Your boss. He was very interested in hearing that I saw one of his Chevy Tahoes pull up and what looked to be two detectives walk up to my guest's quarters. In Colorado, it's considered bad manners to barge in on a neighbor without prior warning, especially to the local law enforcement. Your Chief wasn't too impressed when I had to hand over the phone to my wife because I heard my guest screaming."

  Gus's voice has a lazy and deceptively calm timbre, but the threat in the delivery of his words is unmistakable and once again, I'm so very grateful for the friends I've been blessed with. The click behind me and the release of the tight pinch around my wrists immediately following shows the young detective takes his words seriously as well. The nex
t thought on my mind is Fox as I move past the other detective, down the hallway to the bedroom, only to find it empty. What the hell? I check the closet, thinking maybe he slipped in there when he heard the detective coming down the hallway, but it is also empty. Next the bathroom, where I find no Fox, but the small bathroom window above the tub seems to be off the lock and my shampoo and conditioner that sit on the edge underneath have been moved to the other side. Little bugger went out the window. A quick peek outside only shows the edge of the cornfield and beyond, but no sign of my son.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  "Where is she?"

  I know I'm being rude when I walk through Emma's kitchen, virtually ignoring her, after finding the guesthouse empty, but my day has gone from bad to awful.

  I had been expecting a reprimand for not willingly giving up Naomi's whereabouts to my colleagues from Phoenix, especially after I'd already pissed them off by being too interested in James Miller's disappearance. What I didn't expect was to be put on suspension pending further investigation. Someone obviously has a hard-on for me.

  Driving home, still reeling from the blow and needing some time to clear my head, I get a call from Emma telling me to get my ass over to Cedar Tree because Gus is facing off with two Phoenix detectives who have Naomi in cuffs. My own woes instantly forgotten, I turn my truck around and break every speed limit getting here, but the guesthouse is empty and neither Fox nor Naomi are anywhere to be found.

  "They're out in the fields," Emma says from behind me as I stomp through her house into the GFI offices, hoping to find her there. "Gus and Naomi; they're out there looking for Fox."

  I shake my head, not quite computing the information. "Sorry. I don't get it."

  "Fox took off. Or at least they think he did. He was gone from the bedroom when one of the detectives went looking for him and later Naomi. She thinks he went through the bathroom window. The two from Phoenix were called off and are gone now, but he hasn't come back. He left his cell in the kitchen, so he doesn't have that with him and they were calling around the edge of the field for him, but no response yet." Emma looks at me with worry all over her face, so I grab hold of her hand and pull here into a brief hug.

  "Sorry for barging in on you like that. I promise we’ll find the boy. Let me go out there and look around."

  "Okay, but just so you know, I called Neil and he's on his way over to help. Mal is out of town on that job Gus was supposed to go on, but I didn't call Caleb. Should I?"

  "Leave Caleb for now. They have enough to worry about with the little one. If things change we can always call him in. Thanks Emma. Gus is a lucky man," I tell her with a quick kiss to her forehead before I head out the backdoor and start for the fields.

  I've stayed in the immediate vicinity of the guesthouse, scouring the ground underneath the bathroom window—even though I'm sure that was likely the first thing Gus would've done—and checking anywhere for prints or signs of a possible struggle. I found an area right by the edge of the trees on the side of the cornfield, about ten feet in that looked like it had been recently stirred up. Right now Neil is going over it with a fine-tooth comb.

  With Fox gone for over two and a half hours now and no sign of Naomi and Gus, other than his text a few minutes ago saying 'coming back,' I don't really have a good feeling about this. Thank God Doc is on her way back here. I need to feel her in my arms. It won't take away the nagging worry about Fox, but it will at least take away the uneasy feeling I have when I'm not around her. This day could not get more fucked up.

  Voices at the edge of the field alert me to their approach and the moment I see her shiny brown hair coming out of the cornstalks I stalk over, my eyes only for her. I just have time to register the fatigue around her eyes and the tightness of her mouth before I have her up off the ground, safely in my arms. Hers cling tightly around my neck, her head burrowing there too.

  "So glad you're here," her voice breaks as she mumbles against my skin.

  My eyes search for Gus, and aside from the slight shake of his head, our entire conversation is held in silence, conveyed only by our eyes. Years and years of friendship and working together will do that.

  Neil, who must've heard their return as well, joins us, but as he is about to launch into a description of the spot we think we found, I cut him off with a look. My girl needs some attention and some food first and then we can discuss details. I'm not about to keep what we found from her, but first I need to get a little of the strain off her face. I'm still holding her, her legs are wrapped around my waist and she clings to me like a monkey, as we turn to head back in the direction of the house. Emma is in the door of her kitchen, looking at our procession, wiping at her eyes with her apron.

  "I'm sure Emma has food for an army by now. Get yourselves cleaned up and come over. We'll plan then," Gus says, putting a hand on Naomi's back. "Got a smart kid, Doc, and a bunch of fucking smart men on your side. He doesn't come back, we'll find him. He can't come back on his own, we'll go get him. Either way, your boy's coming home."

  A final nod at me and he's off with Neil on his heels.

  I'm worried about the woman in my arms.

  "Come on, honey. We're gonna grab a quick shower."

  She doesn't even say anything when I carry her into the bathroom. Deja vu. The only difference being that this is her bathroom, not mine. Actually, she also doesn't seem quite as out of it as she was that first time. At least she's looking at me and stands straight as I strip her down. I quickly throw off my own clothes and step in with her under the warm spray. A quick soap and rinse, that's all.

  "Do you think he has him?" Her voice is low and rough, as if she has to force the words out.

  "Heffler? It's doubtful. He may still be off somewhere on his own, scared at what he may have overheard. Upset about his father's death."

  "I thought that at first, but I don't believe for one minute he wouldn't leave word for me somehow. If he overheard what was going on, he would've been worried about me. He would've tried to go for help. He could've gone to Emma and Gus. Why didn't he? It makes no sense."

  She's right of course. She voices everything I've been thinking already. There isn't a fucking thing I can say to her right now. I'd just be guessing at things, making up more possible scenarios when the ones I have going through my mind now are disturbing enough.

  After making sure we are both rinsed off, I step out of the shower and grab a towel from the shelf, holding it open for her. I'm trying not to notice the blush from the hot shower on her tempting curves, but my cock has other ideas. Her eyes briefly come to rest on my groin before quickly raising to meet mine. She immediately starts drying herself vigorously while I grab a towel for myself. Some of the tightness is gone around her mouth and at least she's communicating instead of falling apart. My girl is so much tougher than she gives herself credit for. It's been a hell of a day... for all of us.

  "Beautiful, it's been a matter of hours at this point and I know that Gus is on the phone right now calling in every favor he can. As soon as we're dressed, I'm calling the Cortez Chief of Police who may not be a close friend necessarily, but he owes me a favor or two. The entire county will be on the lookout."

  "Thank you," she says softly, the ghost of a small distracted smile on her lips.

  "Don't thank me. I care for your boy and honey, you've gotta know how deep you are under my skin by now."

  Who am I kidding? She's not just under my skin, she's in my heart. But this isn't the time for such declarations.

  Once dressed, we head over to the main house. It's been only fifteen minutes, give or take, since I carried Naomi in the house, but with it being so late in the season, the sun goes down earlier each day and the temperature drops dramatically. Despite both of us wearing sweaters, the chill is noticeable. I put my arm around Naomi's shoulder and tuck her in against my body.

  "He must be cold," she says, shivering slightly under my hand.

  "He's bright. I'd like to think he's found shelter or is keeping
warm somehow."

  A single nod is my only response.

  Emma's seen us coming 'cause she's at the door waving us in. Both Gus and Neil are sitting at the counter with bowls of some kind of soup and a big plate of sandwiches in front of them.

  "Pull up a stool and I'll grab you some bowls. Fresh chicken noodle soup and a few sandwiches; I thought simple would do the trick. Y'all have to eat something. Can I get you a drink?" Emma directs her attention at Naomi, who hesitates at the door. With a little nudge at the small of her back I get her moving further into the kitchen.

  "Just some water for me, Emma, thanks." Her voice is soft but steady.

  "I'll have the same, unless you've got coffee on the go." I smile at Emma who has returned to the opposite side of the counter, her favorite spot in the house.

  "Boys wanted coffee too, so I have some. Black—right, Joe?"

  "Please."

  Taking the stool next to Naomi has her wedged in between Gus and I, and when Emma slides a bowl of soup in front of her, and she tries to refuse, I see him lean over to her.

  "Gotta eat, girl. Keep your strength up. It's light fare, so just try a few bites; maybe a couple of bites of a sandwich too. No one is served by you collapsing, right?"

  Knowing Gus is just trying to look out for her, I'm curbing the urge to step in for her. Judging from the scathing look she throws him through slitted eyelids, she doesn't really need my help. My feisty Doc is present and accounted for. Thank God.

  "Not a child, Gus. I'll eat, okay?" she bites out through tight lips before turning to her bowl of soup and demonstratively shoveling a spoonful in her mouth. Only to wave her hand in front of her face hissing and blowing. "Fuck me. That's hot."