by Devney Perry
“Allergies?” Cole asked over his shoulder.
My hand flew to my face, rubbing my nose quickly as I lied. “No, uh, just an itch.”
Smooth, Poppy. Real smooth.
I uncovered my nose and jogged to Cole’s side, walking as close to the edge of the path as possible, hoping the distance would keep me from catching another intoxicating whiff.
“I can’t remember the last time I walked through a park,” Cole said as I fell in step with him. “College maybe.”
“Did you go to MSU?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I got my bachelor’s before going to the academy.”
“We must have been there about the same time then. How old are you?”
“Thirty-one. You?”
“Twenty-nine. I wonder if we ever passed each other in a hallway.”
He shook his head. “Doubtful.”
“Were you not on campus much or something?”
“No.” He looked over at me and smiled. “Doubtful because I would have remembered seeing you around.”
Maybe it was the bright afternoon sunlight—or maybe it was because I was staring at his mouth—but for the first time, I noticed Cole had two small dimples when he smiled. And damn if they didn’t make his smile just that much sexier.
Just when I thought I had the breath-hitching thing under control, he produced dimples.
“It sure is hot today.” I fanned my face, hoping he’d think my shortness of breath and flushed cheeks were from the weather.
Cole just chuckled. “Sure is.”
We walked quietly for a few minutes, and with each step, I relaxed more and more in Cole’s company. It was always like that. I’d need five to ten minutes just to calm my racing heart—to settle down and breathe easy again. Which is why I loved that Cole never rushed us into conversation. He set the perfect pace where I was concerned. Not too slow. Not too fast.
So we took our time, walking on the path through the park, enjoying the summer afternoon.
It really was hot today, the July sun shining high in the cloudless blue sky, and I was glad I’d changed into a pair of cut-off shorts and a green tank before I’d left the restaurant. My rubber flip-flops crunched along the gravel path that wound between the trees. Even Cole was in flip-flops; the tan canvas straps looked so small on his big feet.
Today was the first time I’d seen Cole out of his normal black Bozeman PD polo or T-shirt. He was still wearing faded blue jeans that hung perfectly from his narrow hips, but without the gun and badge attached to his belt, he looked different. Younger. Less serious. More handsome. Not many guys could pull off a coral T-shirt, but Cole did. The color brought out the dark green flecks in his eyes and highlighted the tan on his face and forearms.
I did my best not to stare but stole glances every few steps.
“The carnival is coming up in a couple weeks.” Cole finally spoke up as we reached a part of the trail shaded by towering evergreens. “Want some company as you go on the rides?”
Jamie had always wanted to go on all the rides at the county fair. Every single one, including the kiddie rides. But while they’d been my husband’s thing, carnival rides were definitely not for me.
“Would you mind? I get a little motion sick. I might need some encouragement to make it through them all.”
Cole stopped walking. “Are you going to puke on me?”
“No.” I laughed and kicked a pinecone. “Well, not intentionally.”
He grinned. “I’ll agree to go as long as you promise not to eat anything beforehand.”
I crossed my heart. “Promise.”
We both laughed as we fell back in step.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Jamie’s old truck. I called a couple of mechanics in town to see how much it would cost to get it restored, and it’s a fortune. I don’t suppose you know a decent mechanic who would cut me a deal?”
Jamie had bought an old truck in high school with the hope of restoring it. Since I knew nothing about fixing cars, I was going to have to hire out the restoration, but with everything I’d sunk into the restaurant, I couldn’t afford to spend a huge amount. Definitely not as much as I’d been quoted over the past couple of weeks.
Cole rubbed his jaw. “I can probably handle the simple stuff. Replacing panels. Tuning up the engine. Things like that. My dad and I actually fixed up a couple of cars together when I was a kid, just as a hobby. I’ll have to see the truck to know exactly what needs to be done, but if I did some of the work, you’d save some money.”
“Cole, I can’t ask you to do all of that. You’re too busy as it is.”
“I’ll make time.” He nudged my elbow with his. “Besides, I like fixing old classics. It will be fun for me too.”
Having someone else restore that truck wasn’t what Jamie would have done—he’d have done it himself—but I didn’t have that luxury. It was either pay someone to do it for me or let Cole.
“I won’t be able to help. I know absolutely nothing about cars.”
“That’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”
And just like that, Cole made one of the more daunting items on Jamie’s list seen manageable. This was big, asking Cole to fix up Jamie’s truck with little to no help from me. And after this, I wouldn’t ask for more. I wouldn’t take advantage of Cole’s generosity. But I would let him take on the truck.
A surge of confidence hit me again. I will finish Jamie’s list. I would do this for my husband.
“Thank you. For helping me. For looking into Jamie’s case. I really appreciate it.”
He stepped closer. “I’ll do anything I can to help you.”
His soft, intimate tone gave me heart flutters, but pain quickly chased them away.
My heart flutters were supposed to be for Jamie.
Guilt. Guilt was a heavy beast. It settled like a dead weight in my chest. I took a step away from Cole, retreating as far away from him as possible on the narrow path, in an attempt to lessen guilt’s load.
Cole sensed it—the line I drew between us—and he stayed on his side of the trail.
We walked for a while, quiet again, watching as others enjoyed the summer day. Dogs were playing in the grass, chasing balls and each other. Kids were climbing all over the jungle gym as moms watched from nearby. A young couple cuddled on a large blanket, the woman reading as the man napped.
“Tell me about Jamie,” Cole said, taking my attention from people watching.
“You want to know about Jamie?”
“Yeah. What was he like? He was a teacher, right?”
I nodded. “Seventh grade English and social studies. I could never do that job, but he loved it. Kids that age were his favorite. Older than kindergarteners, not quite asshole teenagers.”
Cole chuckled. “I do better with the asshole teenagers.”
I smiled. “And I do better with the kindergarteners.”
“What else?”
I thought about it for a minute, sorting through all of the wonderful things I could say about Jamie. “He was a joker. He loved making others laugh—probably why he was so good with preteens. He didn’t care if he made a dork of himself. What you saw with Jamie was what you got.”
Kind of like Cole. He didn’t try to mask his feelings. He didn’t pretend to be anything other than who he was.
“He loved teasing me.” It was one of the ways Jamie showed people that he loved them. I missed the teasing.
Except for Cole, no one had really poked fun at me since Jamie had died. Everyone around me walked on eggshells. Molly would jest at times, but even then, she was always cautious. So was Finn.
But Cole, he just treated me like me. Not a broken Poppy. Or a sad Poppy. Just me.
And I could tease him right back.
“So, what’s the future look like for you, Detective Goodman? Chief of police? Mayor? The White House?”
Cole chuckled. “No, I’m happy just being a cop. Though my dad has bigger plans.”
“Oh? What does he want?”
“He wants me to follow in his footsteps, to be the next chief when he retires.” He blew out a loud breath. “But I hate politics. I hate committees and all the meetings. I like being in the field and working cases.”
“I can see that. I bet you’d suffocate if you were stuck inside all day, wearing a suit and tie.”
He looked down at me and smiled, his dimples showing again. “Poppy Maysen, I think you’ve figured me out.”
My heart thumped a bit harder. “Not quite.”
“Give it time.”
I’d try. Minute by minute.
Chapter Eight
38th Birthday: Go on every ride at the fair
COLE
“Any questions?”
Matt closed the task force file I’d just laid on his desk. “No. This is all pretty straightforward. I’ll get to work on this right now.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate you digging right in.”
He grinned. “Just glad to be a part of the task force.”
I clapped him on the shoulder before going back to my desk. I’d recruited Matt to join my drug task force after I’d taken James Maysen’s murder case away from Simmons.
Just as I’d suspected, the work Simmons had done to investigate the liquor store murder had been shit. Witness statements were thin, photographs of the crime scene were lacking detail, and the video footage from the area’s security cameras had been reviewed by a rookie who was no longer on the force. Surprise, fucking surprise, they hadn’t found a lead to track down Jamie’s killer.
Five years later, there wasn’t anything I could do about the witness statements and photographs, so my plan was to use the video footage in hopes I’d stumble on a lead. Maybe, if I was lucky, I’d find something Simmons had overlooked.
My desk phone rang, echoing in the quiet bull pen. I wasn’t surprised when Chief of Police flashed on the caller ID—no one ever called me on my desk phone except Dad.
“Goodman,” I answered, just in case it was Dad’s assistant.
“Got a few minutes to talk?” Dad asked.
I checked my watch. “Yeah, but I’ve got to be out of here in fifteen.”
I was leaving early today so I could meet Poppy at the restaurant at two, then head to the fair. That would give us a few hours to hit the rides before the Friday-night crowd got thick and the lines got long.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Come on up.”
Hanging up the phone, I dug my truck keys and wallet out of my desk drawer.
“Summoned by the man upstairs?” Matt teased.
“Story of my life.” I grinned. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”
“You too.”
I waved good-bye to Matt and a few other guys in the bull pen before taking the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. When I got to the landing, I sidestepped a couple people passing by. Even on a Friday afternoon, Dad’s office was busy. I had no idea how he got a damn thing done with people always rushing in and out of meetings.
Meetings. The idea of spending five days a week in back-to-back meetings made my skin crawl. I’d suffocate in a suit and tie, just like Poppy had guessed.
It had been almost two weeks since our walk in the park and I’d been anxious for today ever since. We’d both been busy with work and I’d only seen her once these last couple weeks when I’d stopped by the restaurant for lunch with Matt and a few other guys on the force. I’d waved and introduced her to the guys, but she’d been busy so I hadn’t stayed long.
But today it was just the two of us and there was no way I’d be late.
I checked my watch again as I walked down the hallway to the corner office. Dad always asked for just a few minutes but then I’d be up here for an hour. That was not happening on my day with Poppy. Dad had thirteen minutes and not a second more.
When I reached his corner, I nodded to his assistant but didn’t stop to say hello—she was talking into her headset anyway. In all the years she’d worked for Dad, I’d probably only said twenty words to the woman, so I just walked through Dad’s open door. “Hi.”
He stood from the minifridge, holding up a bottle of water. “Hi. Want one?”
“Nah. I’m good. What’s up?”
He sat in his desk chair. “Take a seat.”
Shit. This was going to take longer than thirteen—now twelve—minutes.
“I can’t stay long. Really, Dad. I have to leave at quarter ’til.”
He nodded as he swallowed a drink of water. “This won’t take long. I just want an update on the Maysen-Hastings murder.”
I frowned. This was one of Dad’s conditions for pulling strings with my boss and transferring the case from Simmons last month. Dad wanted to be “fully informed.” I was learning that keeping him fully informed felt damn close to being micromanaged. But since I wasn’t leaving this office until he had an update, I sat on the edge of his wooden guest chair and leaned my elbows on my knees.
“No changes to my theory since my last update. I still think the killer hid out in the shopping complex somewhere and then snuck out hours later.”
The liquor store where Jamie Maysen and the cashier, Kennedy Hastings, had been killed was part of a grocery store complex. Either the killer had ducked into one of the smaller shops by the liquor store or he’d made it into the grocery store through a loading dock. Regardless, none of the witnesses or cameras had caught sight of him after the shots had been fired, which meant he’d probably been hiding in an employee area not monitored on video.
“This whole thing pisses me off,” Dad said after another gulp of water. “We had responders on the scene within minutes after shots were fired. How’d we miss him?”
I shrugged. “Damn if I know, but somehow he got away. I’m guessing he hid out for a couple of hours and laid low. Then he waltzed out of the complex like just another customer. He probably strolled past the crime scene tape and right into a car.”
Slippery bastard. The liquor store’s camera had caught the suspect killing the cashier and Jamie, then nothing, according to Simmons’s case file.
Having a rookie review the video feeds was probably Simmons’s biggest mistake in the case. I was guessing the rookie only reviewed the timeframe directly after the murders, not hours later.
“So where are you on reviewing tapes?” Dad asked.
“I’ve watched everything we had in evidence, but it’s not much. I’m still waiting to hear back from the grocery store and some of the other shops in the complex to see if they’ve got extended footage saved somewhere. Fingers crossed, we’ll get something else. And I’ve requested all of the stoplight camera footage from that whole area too. It’s getting pulled from the archives. They should have it early next week.”
“I hope he pops up on a camera.”
I nodded. “Me too, but if not, I’ll go to Plan B.”
Plan B was my Hail Mary.
The grocery store complex was next to one of the busiest streets in Bozeman. If we didn’t catch the killer on camera leaving the complex, then Plan B was to catalog all of the cars that came through the area stoplights during a five-hour stretch after the murder. From there, I’d start matching cars to those seen on footage from the shops’ various security cameras. I was hoping I’d be able to compile a short list of cars that had been in the complex and then run plates from the stoplight cameras. With plates, I could pull vehicle registrations and maybe find someone who matched the killer’s description.
Plan B wasn’t just a stretch, it was a really fucking big job that was going to take me a hell of a long time.
“Plan B is a big job, Cole.” When I’d told him about it a week ago, he’d cringed at the number of hours I’d estimated Plan B would take.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, but if we don’t see the guy on camera, it’s the only angle I’ve got.”
Dad sighed. “This is my fault. I should have done more to follow up on Simmons’s investigation. I never should have let this go unsolved for so long.”
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“Well, it wasn’t just you. We all got busy and this just got forgotten. By all of us.” Everyone except for Poppy.
“When you asked me for this case a couple of weeks ago, I said you could have it but it was on your own time and you weren’t getting any help.”
Dad and my boss didn’t want the momentum we had with the drug task force to take a hit because I was wrapped up in this cold murder case that had a slim chance of ever being solved.
I respected where they were coming from, but that didn’t make finding extra time any easier. I was already putting in long hours on the task force. Add to that time spent with Poppy to help her on this list, and I would be running on fumes for the foreseeable future.
“Yeah. I remember. But I’ll find a way to fit it in.”
“I’m changing my mind.”
I blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“You’re still going to have to squeeze it in between task force work, but I’m calling in another favor to your boss and asking Matt Hernandez to pitch in too. Maybe between the two of you, the murder case can get more traction.”
I sat back in my chair, stunned. “No shit?”
“No shit.” He took another drink of his water.
“Why? What changed your mind?”
“I’m pissed this case wasn’t handled correctly, and besides that, your mother is all kinds of infatuated with Poppy.”
That makes two of us.
Dad loosened his tie. “She’s all I’ve heard about since she came to dinner. Christ, we’ve eaten at her restaurant four times in the last ten days.”
I grinned. “Sounds like Mom.”
“And she’s not the only one infatuated. Don’t think I missed the way you looked at her over dinner either.”
Damn. When I’d asked Dad to transfer the case, I hadn’t exactly disclosed my feelings for Poppy. Hopefully, if I was honest with him now, I wouldn’t get the case jerked away.
“I’m not going to lie and say this case isn’t personal or say I don’t have feelings for her.”
