Chapter 5
Shane Marlow cruised down the one main thoroughfare of Sundown, named appropriately, Main Street. He had weekends off, unless the Redemption County courthouse had a trial going on that spilled over to a Saturday. And most judges didn’t want to come in on the weekend.
Beside him in the passenger seat of his patrol SUV sat his partner, Denver. Technically, the German shepherd was recommended to be in a kennel in the back. But neither of them liked that idea, and Denver was the best-trained dog in the county. Shane wasn’t worried about him charging out as soon as the door opened.
He passed the sole gas station in the town and spotted his sister’s car parked next to the building. He hadn’t talked to her in a day or so. Deciding to say hi, he swung the car into the lot and parked next to her.
He exited the car. Denver stayed put until Shane opened the passenger door. With a fluid leap, he bounded to the pavement, and they headed inside.
Marvin was seated at the counter, watching the baseball game on a tiny TV. “Hey, Shane, good to see ya. Hey, Denver.”
“Hi, Marvin.” Shane glanced around the empty store. Was Rosie in the bathroom?
“What brings you in? Need gas?” The deputies got to fill up their cars at a discreet, out of the way pump on the courthouse complex grounds. But if he ever ran low, Marvin insisted on supplying him for free.
“Nah, I was gonna say hi to Rosie. Her car’s out front.” Shane nodded toward the front windows.
“Oh, she ain’t here,” Marvin said. “She and the new guy went to the DMV in Marmion.”
“What?” Shane’s attention snapped to Marvin. “What new guy?”
“You ain’t seen him? Tall, tattoos all over his arms, just moved here. Palmer hired ‘im.”
“No, I haven’t seen him. What’s his name?”
“Ah shoot. I’m so bad with names. It’s….” Marvin scrunched up his face. “Chris? Dang it. Can’t remember.”
Shane paced the small space in front of the counter. “Rosie went somewhere with some guy who just moved to town? They go in his car? How does she know him?” Shane tried, really tried to not be crazy overprotective of his younger sister. But damn it. A stranger? He took a deep breath, then another. She’s a grown woman.
“Yup. Took his truck. They was chatting fer a bit afore they left. She came in to tell me where she was goin’.”
“Great,” Shane muttered.
“I know I ain’t talked to him for more’ en five minutes. But he came in here a week ago, and today, and both times he been real polite. Not all folks are.”
Shane grunted a reply and pulled out his phone. He opened the favorites page in his contacts and pressed her number, only to hear four unanswered rings. Her cheerful voice message greeted him after that. Shit. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Even though they were way past him vetting anyone she wanted to date, he couldn’t help it. He’d almost lost her once.
“I just worry about her, ya know?” He set his hands on his hips. Denver, very familiar with Marvin’s place, sat down in front of a beef jerky-filled endcap and turned big brown eyes on him. Smart dog, and it was his dinnertime. But Shane wasn’t ready to go home just yet. “You got footage I can check?”
“Yup.” Marvin fiddled with his computer, rewinding the display of four square black and white images above him. There was Rosie, chatting away with… damn—a guy he’d never seen before.
“That his truck?” Shane pointed to the black pickup parked at another pump.
“Yep.”
“Can you zoom in on the plate?”
Marvin did, and Shane grabbed a piece of paper and pen near the cash register. “Got it. Thanks.”
Marvin reset his camera feeds. “You’re a good brother and I know you two are close. But…” he turned to Shane, “she ain’t a kid no more.”
“I know.” Shane couldn’t object, Marvin’s words made sense. And some people would say he was going way overboard. “It’s just—I need to find out more about this guy who she decided to give a solo tour of the county to. For my own piece of mind.” He blew out a breath. “She’s my only sister.”
“I know. Just, sometimes you gotta give sisters some space. Lord knows. I got three of ‘em. Ain’t gonna listen to what they don’t wanna hear.”
“That’s why I need to check this guy out.” Shane pocketed the note. “Thanks, Marvin.” He turned to his dog. “Denver.”
The dog jumped to his feet, tail wagging, and they left the little store. Shane opened his car door and Denver leaped in. “All right, boy. In two minutes we’ll find out exactly who your Aunt Rosie is hanging out with today. And you’ll get dinner.”
Denver panted happily as Shane cranked the engine and guided the SUV through the handful of blocks to his house. Shane flexed his hands on the steering wheel, torn. He probably shouldn’t look up this dude’s plate. But that thread of logic warred with a need to know who in the hell this guy was. Rosie was smart, but trusting. Her body had fully healed after her accident. But something inside her was different. Sadder.
Shane couldn’t blame her. He’d been through his own hell in Kirkuk. And maybe that was why he had a borderline-crazy case of brotherly protectiveness.
Reaching his driveway, he shut off the SUV and opened the doors. He made sure to grab the laptop from the console and they hustled into the gray two-story, where Denver immediately beelined for the small kitchen and paced. The dog was so big, he nearly stretched from one end of the room to the other if you counted that tail. With practiced speed, he filled Denver’s food and water dishes.
He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket, where it nestled next to his phone. He could call Rosie again. But if he asked if she was okay she’d tell him to chill.
Hell. He stalked to a table in the tiny dining room, which was piled with papers, mail, chargers, and a printer. He sure as hell wasn’t going to use that room for its intended purpose. Opening the laptop, he pulled up the state site that his department used to access license plate data and typed in the string of numbers from Marvin’s.
It took two seconds for the screen to display the owner.
One second for Shane to scan the name and details.
Christian Zaffino. A Chicago address. Made sense that even if he had updated at the DMV today, the data base might not update until Monday.
Next Shane clicked over to a search engine and typed in the guy’s name.
Holy fucking shit.
Shane choked out a half curse, half cough. His breath left his lungs as a growl built in his chest. “Mother fucker!” he shouted.
The entire first screen of his search was full of articles with similar headlines:
Murder conviction overturned in Cook County.
Man, wrongfully convicted, leaves prison after ten years.
Zaffino freed, always maintained innocence
Witness recants to overturn Zaffino conviction
It went on and on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Shane breathed through clenched teeth. Wrongful conviction? Ten years in maximum security?
And Rosie was alone with this guy?
“Witness recanted,” Shane muttered, and forced himself to open an article from the Chicago Tribune. He scanned it, devouring the details like Denver had just devoured his dinner. Ten years ago Zaffino was convicted of murder. Three months ago a witness came forward to say he’d lied in the trial. He’d been the only one to place Zaffino at the scene.
“Holy shit.” He couldn’t wait another minute. He printed the article and dialed Rosie’s number.
Rosie couldn’t contain her giggle as she and Cruz left the drivers’ services building. “Did you hear yourself back there? You’ve only been here a week and you already sound just like you grew up here.”
“Nah.” Cruz shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just ‘cause I said ma’am a few times…”
“Yes ma’am. I reckon it’ll be nice weather all weekend, ma’am. Why sure I’ll squash that wasp that got inside the building, ma’am,” Rosie imitated him, exaggerating.
“Hey, those ladies were the nicest drivers services workers I‘ve ever seen. Back home they all yell at you to go stand in this line or that line.” He opened her door and she hopped in. He joined her a second later. “And that’s another thing. No line? Never see that before.”
“And your picture is good!” she exclaimed, still not believing it. “Everyone else’s looks like a mug shot.”
He jerked his head around to stare at her. All humor dropped from his face. He didn’t seem angry, exactly, but a fierce light flared in his eyes.
“What?” She fought the urge to peek over her shoulder to see if something was behind her. Because he suddenly threw off darkness. “What’s wrong?”
He blinked, then shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry. I thought…thought I left something inside. But uh, I’m good.”
She scanned their seats and the dashboard. “You didn’t bring much in, just some papers—you got those?”
“Yeah. You’re right.” He steered out of the tiny strip mall parking lot where the DMV was located and got onto the two lane road that would take them to the unmarked route. “Just retrace our steps, right?”
“Right.” What just happened? But his face was back to its casual sexiness and he had one hand draped over the wheel, looking perfectly at home in his truck on these country roads. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to dwell on it. Everyone had their quirks. Everyone had their secrets.
They drove back to Sundown, through endless green fields lit with the bright afternoon sun. Rosie relaxed into the leather seat as the time and miles flew by. She could rattle off who owned every patch of land they passed, and could identify each type of crop in the fields. And she felt like she was seeing it all through new eyes. How different this must be for Cruz. She snuck a glance at him. So handsome…and lord, she wanted to drag out this time with him. Would she be too bold if she asked him to get together sometime?
In no time they were back at Marvin’s gas station. Cruz pulled up next to her car and twisted to face her. “Thanks again for showing me that route. It was a nicer way to spend the afternoon than I’d planned.”
“You’re welcome. And yeah.” She smiled and giddiness built as slate blue eyes locked onto her like she was the only thing to see. “It was way more fun than the laundry I had on my schedule.”
He chuckled. “More fun than laundry. Now that’s a compliment.”
She giggled. “Stop it.”
He stretched one muscled arm across the back of the seats. “I really did have a good time. I’d like to see you again.”
Yes, yes, yes, yes! Rosie’s heart flipped. “Sure. That’d be great.”
He grinned and that dimple popped into view. God, that was cute, and he wasn’t exactly the cute type. More like devastatingly hot and dangerous. But then his smile faded. “Though you may have to suggest where we go. Got no clue where to hang out.”
“Hmm, okay. There’s—” She sucked in a breath. “I know! The county fair is next weekend!”
His brows knit. “County fair? Like with rides?”
“Yeah, there’s some rides…wait. Don’t you have fairs up in Chicago?”
His eyes twinkled. “That’d be a no.”
“What? You’ve been missing out!”
He ran a hand over his hair. “Maybe some of the suburbs have them, I don’t know. The city has a lot of street festivals, but I don’t know about a fair. Maybe there is and I just never heard about it.”
“Well, let me tell you, it is the place to be in Redemption County. That’s it. It’s settled. We’re going.” She folded her arms.
“Do they have people trying to grow giant vegetables?”
“They sure do. And a demolition derby.”
He laughed, a rich baritone sound that warmed her insides. “Then I’m there. Now that, I have to see.”
“Demolition derby is what’ll snag you, huh? Got it.”
“And, you know, the present company helps.” He drew out the words, letting them linger in the air. Full of promise.
Oh. She unfolded her arms, lost as to what to say. Cruz was different than anyone she’d met, and something about him screamed that there was so much more to him. Things hidden deep under the tattoos and don’t mess with me shell. She ought to be careful. But gosh. She was drawn to him like he’d snared her tightly and she wasn’t afraid, not one bit.
“Can I get your number? You already have mine.”
“Sure, of course.” She pulled out her phone and sent her contact info to his cell. “Will Saturday night work? I’m off.”
“Saturday it is.” A slow smile tilted his lips. Lips that looked like they could do a hundred naughty things to her. “See you then.”
“Okay.” She hopped out and crossed the few feet to her car. Catching Marvin’s eye through the window, she gave him a wave and got in to her car.
Leaving the station, she turned right to head to her little house, and Cruz continued driving straight. She glanced at his truck in her rearview mirror, still amazed at how the last twenty-four hours had gone.
Her house was just a mile outside town, surrounded by the fields she had told Cruz about. The property had been in her family for years. It was a little square brick two story, with windows on all sides and a front porch with a swing, and she loved it. She’d be there in five minutes—
Her phone trilled from the cup holder where she always kept it. Shane. According to new cell phone laws, she should put him on speaker, but she hated that and he knew it. She slid her finger across the screen to accept the call. “Hi, Shane.”
“Rosie. Where are you?” Her brother’s voice bordered on alarm, which in turn, scared the crap out of her.
“I’m almost home. I’m on Route Forty-five. Why—what’s wrong?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Uh-oh. Had he somehow heard about the three guys who’d harassed her last night? She hadn’t told anyone. She planned to tell Shane, just hadn’t had a chance yet. Crap, had those jerks filed a report—
“Are you still with that new guy?”
“What?” She couldn’t contain her shock. “First of all, no, I’m alone. And second, how did you know I was with him?”
“I stopped in at Marvin’s when I saw your car parked there. Listen, I need to talk to you right now. I’m coming over.”
“Shane what’s going on? You’re worrying me.”
“I have to explain in person. Be right there.” He ended the call.
“What the hell…” she murmured to herself. Shane was never like this. He was calm and controlled, like the former Army sergeant he was. It took a lot to rattle him.
She cruised down the road and turned into her quarter-mile-long driveway. At the halfway point, it turned ninety degrees and continued to the detached garage. She got out and already could see Shane’s car back at the turn off point, following her. Nerves and worry fired along her skin.
He sped toward her and hopped out, papers clutched in his hand. He didn’t even close his door. Didn’t open the passenger door like he usually did for his canine partner. “Denver.” He gave a foreign command, and his massive German shepherd leaped fluidly out after him.
Shane jogged toward Rosie, scrutinizing her. “Thank god. You’re okay.” He folded her into a hug.
She hugged him back, because she sensed he needed reassurance like he needed oxygen. “Of course I am.” She pulled away. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
“That new guy? Tattoos, from the city?”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“What do you know about him?” Shane’s eyes, a blue that matched her own, fired with anger.
“He just moved here from Chicago. Um, he works on Palmer’s crew. His name is Christian Zaffino but he goes by Cruz.” She shook her head. “What’s the problem?”
“Did he tell you where he’s been?”
“What do mean? He lived in the city—“
“Not for the last ten goddamn years.” Shane drew a breath and let it out slowly. She recognized that habit. He was forcing himself to be calm. “Rosie, he was just released from prison.”