Chapter Ten

Amber had decided at the office that Dex knew something. He was up her ass as far as this investigation went, and the fact he didn’t seem to know it bothered her. He’d been sitting outside the gun store yesterday when she’d gone in to ask about Tannerite sales, and then he conveniently lived across the street from the latest explosion, where the gun setting the damn thing off had been fired from his carport. And he was there—outside, with a gun—when it happened.

Granted, it was the wrong kind of gun, and granted, she didn’t know anyone who went shooting in their underwear, but it was still odd coincidence after odd coincidence.

The coffee shop where he wanted to meet was called Grounds for Redemption, and when she got there, Dex was sitting at a booth in the corner, chatting with a young, black-haired beauty. His smile as he spoke told Amber he knew her well, and she couldn’t stop the shards of jealousy that splintered her. Sure, Dex was clearly older than the waitress, but there was no way he didn’t have a romantic history in this city at his age and with his looks. And it wasn’t like she was dating him, but Amber couldn’t stop her spine from stiffening at the idea he had invited her to drink coffee at a place where he flirted with the wait staff. Right after kissing the hell out of her.

“Amber!” He was calling her and motioning her over, and the girl wasn’t leaving. With a sigh, she moved over to him. The woman was considerably younger than Amber, and as proud as Amber was of the way she’d taken care of herself over the years, thirty-five would never compete with twenty-five.

“Hi,” she muttered to whoever was listening as she slid into the booth.

“I wanted you to meet Misty. She and Mia run the place. They’re good girls.” He winked at Misty, who ducked her head and blushed.

“Stop it, Hollerman. You’re a good guy, too, so shut up.” The young woman was clearly uncomfortable with the praise, and Amber softened her reaction. But still ….

“I got you a regular coffee, but if you want something fancy, Misty can whip it up for you. My treat.” Dex’s grin was infectious, and Amber smiled back, in spite of herself.

“Can I get some tea?” A good cup of tea would work wonders on her nerves at this point.

“Sure thing. I’ll bring y’all some pastries in a bit. I’ve got a new recipe for you to try. On the house. They’re Chris’s favorite.” Misty tossed her hair as she grinned at them. Amber warmed a tad to the girl. The proprietary way she’d said the name Chris relaxed Amber more than she wanted to admit.

“Thanks.” Amber smiled gratefully.

“When Mia gets here, I know she’ll want to come say hi, but I’ll leave you two.” Misty stalked off like a woman on a mission for tea and pastries. Amber’s jealousy faded.

“They like you here,” she mused.

Dex stretched his long legs out under the table as he leaned back, bumping her lightly with his foot. She crossed her legs to get out of his way, not wanting to deal with lingering touches under the table. Or the way they warmed her. “Long story, and it’s not mine to tell, but they are good girls. And this shop is phenomenal. They give a portion of their proceeds to women who have been victims of violence.” His eyes narrowed on her. “You must be new in town if you don’t know.”

“Well, I am relatively new in town.” Yeah, two weeks was pretty damn new.

“Look up Mike Worthington when you get back to the station. There’s a file on him. These girls are the survivors. And that’s all I’m going to say about it.” He took a sip of his coffee, looking at her over the rim of the cup before setting it down on the table. “Okay, hit me.”

She was still pretending not to feel the powerful legs under the table, trying to figure out how to avoid them. He kept bumping into her, his muscular calves rubbing along her leg. “What?”

“I know you have questions about this morning. I’m here to answer them, remember?” His grin was wicked, as if he knew exactly what his proximity was doing to her. As if he was remembering the kiss every bit as much as she was. The way his hands had held her, the desperation, the impatience, the total mauling of her mouth.

“Yeah. Right.” Amber flushed, deep heat flowing through her body. Pulling out her notebook, she turned to a fresh page and smoothed it down, clicking her pen open in a ritualistic manner that helped get her game face on. She grabbed her phone and set the voice recording on, speaking into the phone for the date and time of the recording, as well as who she was with. “Okay, tell me again what happened this morning.”

As he explained, yet again, what had happened when he’d heard a prowler and gotten up to check, she got lost in the timbre of his voice—the timbre that called to her, speaking of tangled sheets and the smell of sex in the dark. Amber’s insides were downright hot, and she felt her forehead with the back of her hand, wondering if she had a fever. Dex ended with, “I guess I’m glad I don’t sleep naked,” and her attention snapped back to the actual words he was saying. There was a glint in his eyes, a dangerous one, a glint that spoke of way more than home invasions and neighborhood explosions. He knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

Amber cleared her throat in an effort to get back on track. “Okay, how well do you know the Mims family?”

“Not well enough to get invited to family picnics, but we share tools. He’s good about bringing them back in the same condition he borrowed them.”

“Did you know he’s a city councilman?”

“Of course. He’s the only real guy on the Council as far as I’m concerned. He doesn’t live in the ritzy neighborhoods and have his sights set on Senate seats or anything. He just wants to improve the roads in Austin, and I’m all for that. He’s been making a big deal of the traffic situation here for years.”

“Who hasn’t?” You didn’t have to be an Austin local to know the traffic situation was a joke.

Amber had honestly been thinking this target was a clue as to the motive of the explosions. But all Gabby could talk about was how Mims was a huge advocate for commuters of the city, trying to help the citizens of Austin by decreasing their driving time to and from work. His last platform had been something about working toward helping income providers spend more time with their family and less time on the road, saving money on daycare expenses, and all things related to traffic.

Not really a reason to blow shit up.

“Okay, tell me about the case you’re working on.”

“Why?”

“Because you seem to be everywhere I am in my investigation.” She left out the part where she wasn’t supposed to be doing any actual legwork before the incident this morning. He didn’t need to know that.

“What’s your investigation?”

“Nice try. Tell me.”

“Okay. This guy’s wife hired us to figure out what he’s up to. She thinks it’s an affair, but my boss thinks it’s something different. We’re trying to catch him doing something to satisfy her curiosity.”

“What makes y’all think he’s not cheating?”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Simon thinks it’s not cheating. He’s making small purchases at gun stores and pawn shops around town.” Her ears perked up at that tidbit. “He’s been staying in Dallas at the downtown Hilton more than necessary since February of this year. In fact, he’s got a trip planned tonight, so I’ll be going to Dallas after this.”

“So what do you think he’s up to?”

“No idea. Can’t figure out what he’s buying. Credit card receipts just say ‘hunting accessories.’”

“Which could be anything from ear plugs to …”

“Exploding targets,” he finished for her, his eyes taking on a knowing gleam. Anticipation ratcheted in her belly, a familiar feeling. It was one she got when she knew she was getting close.

“What’s his name?” He bit his lip in thought, and she panicked for a minute. “Oh, come on. You can’t keep that from me based on client confidentiality or whatever. You’re not a fucking shrink!”

“Terry Perkins.”

She wrote the name down and underlined it four times. Why four? Because that’s how many times it took before he took another sip of his coffee and stopped staring at her.

Looked like she was driving to Dallas tonight. Amber couldn’t let Dex screw up her investigation, and some part of her was thrilled at the idea of catching the bomber on her own. That would certainly get her some positive attention, and maybe some validation.

She’d suddenly forgotten Eileen’s warnings against Dex and the way he infuriated her. She would follow him up there, grab a room, and keep an eye on things. Make sure he didn’t fuck things up for her.

Back at the station, as she filed legitimate paperwork on work she had done herself—major incident logs, evidence chain of command logs, measurement logs to plot trajectories—Amber felt an insane sense of satisfaction. Granted, she wasn’t any closer to figuring out who had done anything, but she felt like she was on the right track.

Amber still had Dex’s pistol but wasn’t under any illusions he didn’t have more. Every fellow officer she knew had multiple firearms squirreled away in different parts of their house. He wouldn’t be hurting not having his .45. He probably had another one just like it.

The gun that had shot the Tannerite load was a .243, based on the shell casing found at the scene. That was a high-caliber rifle cartridge, a popular round for hunters. It was for rifles and shot accurately up to about 200 yards. Dex’s carport was about seventy-five yards from the explosion. Not an accurate shot for a typical shooter with a .45.

But who knew how typical Dex was? She spent too long going over his file—what she could find, anyway—and knew he wasn’t a recognized marksman or anything, but one of his last cases before retirement was interesting. He had ended up shooting a perp in a hostage situation, saving the woman but killing a rather prominent, if unstable, member of the Austin elite. And his first case with the new security firm after retiring was another shooting, this one appearing to be gang-related. A local senator had been killed, and his son hadn’t been seen since. Still an open investigation, but leads were getting cold.

No wonder IA was sniffing around him.

Speaking of IA, Amber remembered Eileen’s words and decided she would document everything with Dex. If this came back to bite her in the ass, she would be covered. But she wouldn’t officially file anything with the boss man until she knew for sure. At least, not more than necessary.

She’d already talked to Nguyen this morning, giving him a rundown of what had happened at the scene of the incident. He’d been interested in the fact it had gone down across the street from Dex Hollerman’s house, but when he learned the explosion was Mims’ carport, he’d shifted focus to the fact he was a city councilman.

Maybe that’s where she should look. She’d already decided to look into Mims more. Maybe she should just forget about Dex altogether. He could be telling the truth. But how could she forget the images branded on her brain of him in his underwear?

Amber decided to look up Mike Worthington. Sometimes when she did something totally unrelated, it helped her brain rest on what she was supposed to be thinking about, and it helped some things click into place. She told herself this was unrelated.

Mike Worthington was every young woman’s worst nightmare. Stalking women where they worked, he would follow them home and hide in their closets, kidnap them, take them to his house, and rape and torture them until they were dead. It was horrific, and two young women had survived after some guys from Pierce Securities had gone all urban guerillas on his ass. Misty—the woman she’d met this afternoon—was one of the women who had been rescued, and the two girls had recovered and started the coffee shop to help other victims of violence.

Something shifted inside Amber. While Pierce Securities seemed unorthodox and got too personal with their jobs, they were clearly doing good things. The fact they still supported the victims they’d rescued was something as well. She read Dex’s notes on the case, since he’d been the responding officer, and found he was every bit as disgusted with their methods as she was. But his admiration was clear in the fact he’d gone to work for them after his retirement, and Amber couldn’t help but agree somewhat. Sometimes, as a police officer, trying to keep the chain of evidence for the DA’s office was a pain in the ass but necessary. Without the proper evidence trail, it couldn’t be admitted in court, and bad guys would get off.

Catch-22.

“Brought you a sandwich.” Gabby dropped a greasy bag on her desk before leaning next to her. “Whatcha doing?” He squinted at her screen and saw what she was looking at. “Oh boy. That was a clusterfuck, for sure. The mayor climbed all up our ass for that one.”

“Yeah. I was at Grounds for Redemption earlier and got curious. Thought I could give my brain a break.”

“Definitely. Brains need breaks often.” Amber snorted, but he ignored it. “You could have told them you needed to wash your hair or something.” Referring to her arriving at the scene earlier, he shrugged, picking at his nails. “Now you’re going to be here all night doing paperwork.” He pulled the chair out, grabbing a stack of leads while Amber tamped down her temper. Hair washing? Is it 1952?

While Gabby grunted and breathed heavily next to her, as if his belly were a burden he couldn’t hold up in his seat, she chewed on the inside of her cheek, closing out the screen she was on. Her own partner didn’t take his job seriously, much less hers. Nguyen acted like everyone under him was incompetent. Eileen made her feel like she was out to get her for no damn reason. She was hitting one brick wall after another.

Amber had another hour before Dex was leaving for Dallas. She told herself she was going to work this case for her redemption, an effort to earn some respect. But part of her liked the unorthodox methods the Pierce guys used to get results. Because she needed to get results. And she’d get to see more of Dex, and if she would just relax and work with him instead of against him, they might find what they both needed together. Or maybe he could just lead her. He did know his shit, and she could put away some of her pride and learn something. She’d have to be careful and not go against department policy, but she could do this—go to Dallas and come back with something concrete for the team to work on. That would earn her some respect.

As long as she stayed out of the sack with him. Lord knew, she wanted a night with Dex Hollerman, but she knew without a doubt there was more than just sex. Amber was confident she didn’t have the brain power for something like that with him. First, she needed a car. She had new tires but didn’t trust her car for that drive, not without a new timing belt. Company car to the rescue.