Holding Her Hand
Coert
Present day . . .
“DADDY!”
Coert bent low to sweep his baby girl up in his arms.
He barely got her steady when she had her little arms wrapped around his neck and planted a kiss on his jaw.
When she caught his eyes, he asked, “How you doin’, cupcake?”
“Good, Daddy,” she replied.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Yup,” she answered with a firm nod of her head.
He lifted his brows. “You sure about that?”
She looked confused.
“Shnookie, sweetheart,” he whispered, knowing she could sometimes forget the worn-out, bedraggled teddy bear she had to sleep with at night, but he couldn’t because when she got in bed and remembered she didn’t have him, he’d have to strap her in his truck and take her back to her mother’s to pick it up.
His Janie’s only vice.
A bear called Shnookie.
“Oh,” she mumbled.
“Oh.” He grinned and set her down. “Go get him then we’ll go.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she agreed and dashed off, tossing a bright smile to her mother along the way.
Kim, his ex, Janie’s mom, stood looking after her until she disappeared then she turned her head to Coert.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” she said.
“Said it before.” And he had, about ten thousand times, not that he had to, he’d jump at the chance to have his daughter every day if that was a chance offered to him. “Not a problem.”
“It’s a bachelorette party, I can’t miss it. If it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t switch days.”
He’d been living with Kim kissing his ass and acting apprehensive since he’d dragged her to court after she tried to move herself and their daughter to Portland.
Half of it, he knew, was him sending the unmistakable message she shouldn’t pull that kind of shit again in order to yank his chain and bring him to heel, something she’d tried to master the art of while they were together. This the reason why she never got his ring on her finger, regardless of the fact that most other times she was sweet and could be outrageously funny.
She hadn’t ever brought him to heel and he got tired of attempting to break her of the habit of trying.
The other half of it, he knew, was Kim finally cottoning on to the fact that she’d redirected both their lives with her play to “win him back.” It turned out beautifully in the end because they got Janie, but it had been a seriously whacked play and brought her diapers and bottles, and attorney’s fees when he pulled her into court to share he wasn’t messing around with his daughter’s life and he was taking his responsibilities as her father deadly serious.
“Again, it’s fine,” he said impatiently. “I’ll take her to preschool tomorrow then you got her back tomorrow night.”
“Okay,” she mumbled, studying him trying not to look like she was before she asked, “You okay?”
No, he was not.
Preliminary reports from the fire inspector stated that the fire on the jetty was arson and that was absolutely not good.
And Cady Moreland lived in his town, in the damned lighthouse, something he couldn’t avoid because he saw it fifty times a day, which meant he was reminded of her the hundred times a day his mind decided to do that plus the fifty he saw the lighthouse.
You’re on my doorstep, Coert, she’d said.
And that’s where he’d been.
In fact, except for when he caught her sitting in her rental outside the sheriff station, it had not been Cady who had approached him. Not once. And she didn’t even do it when she was sitting outside the station. He’d gone to her.
Every time, he’d gone to her.
Those tears, that breakdown on the sidewalk, that had not been planned. She’d been blindsided running into Janie and Coert.
Blindsided and gutted.
So bad, he couldn’t even think about it because he felt her pain straight down to his soul.
But the fact she had not approached once made her being there at all an even bigger mystery than it already was.
And Christ, it had been Coert’s job for years to solve mysteries. He got off on that but he wasn’t much on having that shit a part of his life.
However, the fact remained she wouldn’t move there, buy property there, especially the property she’d bought which anchored her there, if she did not have reconciliation on her mind. But it was Coert finding every excuse he could to haul his ass out to her, not the other way around.
The Cady he knew had been confused, struggling with learning how to be an adult because she had no firm foundation to keep her steady or help guide her, and trying to teach herself not to act out by doing stupid shit when she was frustrated or felt trapped by life.
What the Cady he knew had not been was a woman who’d played head games.
And for the life of him, all the times he thought of it, and he thought about it too damned much, he couldn’t see where she was playing head games now.
So the prevailing question on his mind when he didn’t have to think about his job or his daughter or her mother or the fact they might have arsonists in their town was . . . what was the woman doing?
And he had to admit, outside his daughter, that prevailing question was prevailing.
So he was not okay because Cady and her lighthouse and her proximity and her green eyes and thick hair and round ass were practically all he could think about.
“I’m fine,” he answered Kim.
“You sure?” she pressed.
He leveled his gaze at her. “I’m sure.”
“Coert, if you . . .” she trailed off, looking like she was considering the wisdom of her next, and then she shared that she didn’t consider it long enough by saying, “Everyone’s heard about the fire, and I know you get wrapped up when bad stuff goes down so if you ever need to talk, I just want you to know, I’m here.”
“I got folks I can talk to, Kim, but thanks,” he dismissed.
She looked hesitant again before she said softly, “We could try to be friends, you know.”
“Think when you stuck a pin through all my condoms that option was taken off the table.”
She blanched even as she winced because during one of their many unhappy discussions after she’d told him she was pregnant with his kid, she’d also admitted to doing that, sharing at the same time that was “just how much I love you, Coert.”
He’d had his fill of women making drastic decisions that altered the course of his life. He wasn’t a big fan of it seventeen years ago, he wasn’t a big fan of it five years ago, he’d never be a big fan of it.
“All right, I just . . . thought I’d offer,” she muttered uncomfortably.
He just got a nod in to share the offer was heard but not accepted before Janie tore into the room, waving Shnookie and shouting, “Got ’im!”
“Come here, you. Let me get your jacket on,” Kim called.
“Okay, Mommy,” Janie replied, going to her mother but keeping hold of Shnookie, transferring the bear from one hand to the other as her mother put her jacket on and zipped her up.
And Coert watched his beautiful little girl, thinking Kim’s play had been whacked but now he couldn’t imagine the world without Janie in it, which sucked because he couldn’t quite get over being pissed at her mother, but he was still grateful to her.
So Coert was also not a big fan of women who dredged up conflicting emotions that messed with his head.
He’d had his fill of that too.
Especially very recently.
“Mittens,” Kim said as Coert moved to the couch to grab Janie’s hat that was laying there.
Kim put on the mittens and Janie held Shnookie close to her chest while Coert pulled her hat on her head and made sure it was over her ears.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, Daddy.” She beamed up at him, moving to take his hand.
“Hug for your mom,” he ordered.
She instantly turned and threw herself in her mother’s open arms.
Janie kept hers around Kim even as she pulled slightly away and asked, “See you tomorrow, Mommy?”
“Yeah, sweetie,” Kim replied, giving their daughter a smile.
Janie danced to Coert and took his hand. He led her out to the truck, muttering his goodbyes to her mother, and strapped her in her seat in the back when they got there.
He angled in behind the wheel and reversed out of Kim’s drive.
“We gonna go have dinner at Weatherby’s?” his girl asked when they were on the road.
“Nope. Makin’ my baby dinner at home,” Coert answered.
“Hamburglers?” she asked.
“You want hamburgers?” he asked back through a grin.
“Yes!” she yelled.
He kept grinning at the windshield. “Then I’m making hamburgers.”
“And curly fries,” she ordered.
“And curly fries,” he agreed.
“And after we clean up, we can make cupcakes.”
Coert chuckled but said, “Maybe the next weekend I have you we can make cupcakes, Janie.”
“But it’ll be fun to make them tonight.”
Only she thought it was fun. Coert having to clean up after the cupcake-making bomb exploded in his kitchen was not fun.
“Weekend, baby,” he said quietly.
“Al’right, Daddy.”
Damn, she was a good kid.
She’d always been a good kid.
This was obviously awesome and always had been, but right then, something about that rattled him.
He got them home. They made hamburgers and they ate them. His Janie “helped” him through the making and the cleaning up after. She then grabbed one of her coloring books and sat on the floor by the coffee table, and with her tongue sticking out, colored with her book by his stocking feet up on the table while he watched TV.
When she started to get tired, she crawled up next to her dad and burrowed in, cuddling and not really watching what was on the television.
And when it was time, without a word after he said she had to go to bed, she went up with him and did what she did every night he had her with him. She brushed her teeth and got in her pajamas and she picked the book she wanted him to read to her. She then climbed into bed, snuggled into her dad and listened while he read until she fell asleep.
That night, however, after Coert closed the book, unease stole over him as he stared down at her dark head and he thought about his sweet Jane.
She was the perfect kid.
This was not a proud father thinking that.
She just was the perfect kid.
Even her terrible twos had been more like mildly annoying twos. She didn’t throw tantrums. She didn’t get moody. She didn’t talk back. She did what she was told. She was bright and cheerful and sunny. She skipped and danced. She didn’t pout when she heard no.
And stretched in her bed with his sleeping girl tucked into his side, Coert wondered if somewhere in her little girl psyche she got how she was made, and she got how her mom screwed that up and she got how it pissed off her dad, and they—most importantly he—were making her feel that she had to be perfect in order to smooth all that over.
To make all of that worth it.
Kim had stuck holes in the condoms he was obsessive about using even though they were in an exclusive relationship, precisely because he did not want to get her pregnant and that was one gravely messed-up move.
But the bottom line was, he got Janie out of it.
So why the fuck was he still pissed and taking that out on his daughter’s mother?
This being a mental road Coert knew he needed to travel not only for his daughter and his relationship with her mother, but also another woman who was suddenly back in his life. It was also a road he couldn’t travel right then with his girl fast asleep beside him in her little bed.
So he carefully extricated himself, tucked her in, kissed her temple, made sure Shnookie was close, turned on her nightlight, turned out the bedside light, and he walked down his stairs.
The full report on the arson his deputy gave to him four hours ago sat on his desk next to Coert’s open, beat-up leather folder with the legal pad inserted.
His notes scribbled everywhere on the pad, pages flipped up, others torn off, Coert looked from computer to his notes, pen in his fingers, flicking pages, touching keys on the keypad, back and forth.
They’d found fires fitting the same MO in Nevada, Wyoming, Minnesota, one each in those states, four in Colorado.
Minnesota and four in Colorado.
And Maine.
Could seem random. Could be a firebug for hire. Could be copycats admiring the work of the man out west and trying their hand. Could be the man out west had apprentices in the North and East.
But the instant Coert read his deputy’s report on the fires, he felt his stomach sink because Colorado, Minnesota and Maine were not coincidences.
It took four hours but he found it. He found the link. He knew why those shops had been burned down. And after he checked and double checked and the facts did not change, every molecule of his body prickled with adrenaline.
The first thing he did was get up, grab his jacket, and he had to stop himself from jogging to his county Explorer.
Or sprinting.
He got in and drove directly to Janie’s preschool.
He punched in the code to get in the front door and walked right into the administrator’s office.
She was fortunately at her desk and looked up at him, surprise hitting her features.
“Hey, Coert. Is everything okay?” she asked.
He shut the door behind him, walked to the front of her desk and did not sit down.
“When Kim and I enrolled Janie here, we had a chat about vigilance due to my position. I’m regrettably in a place where I need to remind you of that chat, Linette. I also need to request you speak to your teachers and staff and make sure they’re consistently aware of the grounds, outside the fences in the playground, and you do not buzz anyone in or give the code out to anyone that is not known to you, not expressly related to one of the children or on a parent’s official list.”
“Oh my goodness, Coert, is everything okay?”
No.
Everything was far from okay.
“A reminder of vigilance is good as a matter of course. Though I apologize if this alarms you but there’s a reason I need to make that reminder. Now just to say, starting very soon, there will be regular drive-bys of sheriff cruisers and at times there will be a manned cruiser parked close to this property. This is simply a precaution. Frankly, a father with the means doing what he can to be absolutely certain his daughter is safe. Cruisers or not, I don’t care if you or one of your staff feel you may be acting rashly, but if you’re even mildly concerned about someone you see, you call the station and me or one of my men will come and check it out.”
“Of course, Coert, but I have to know if Janie, which means the other children, is in danger.”
He shook his head. “My hunch, no. But I’m not in the job of taking chances with people’s safety. So I need you concerned enough to be alert but not so concerned you’re frightened.”
That was what he said.
What he didn’t add was that if something happened, it would likely happen to him.
Or Cady.
“Oh, Coert, I’m so sorry,” she said, sitting there with a pale face, staring up at him.
“An important part of your job has always been to keep my daughter safe, Linette. I don’t want Janie scared or worried so her mother and I won’t be changing her routine. But I do want the adults around her to be notified and act accordingly.”
“We will. I’ll call a quick staff meeting tonight after the kids are gone and see to it. And you should know I’ll need to share with the other parents.”
“It’s your job to keep them all safe so you do what you have to do. And if you have any questions at all, or they do, tell them to feel free to phone me directly.”
She nodded.
“Thank you, Linette,” Coert ended it, turning toward the door because he had a lot to do and he needed to do it.
“Stay safe, Coert,” she called as he walked through the door.
“Will do,” he returned, not looking back.
He didn’t go see his girl because he rarely popped in to see his baby and it wouldn’t be good to do it now with where his head was at.
And he didn’t have time.
So he got in his truck and drove to his next destination, doing it calling Kim.
“Hey, Coert. What’s up?” she answered.
“I’d like to do this in person but I don’t have time to do it in person right now so I need to do it over the phone.”
“Oh God,” she muttered.
“We talked a long time ago, Kim, about things I’ve had to do in my job and the fact there are people who won’t like it. One of those people got out of prison not long ago and he’s been active since then. I’m going to be calling an alarm company later today to have them install an alarm in your house. If you can’t be off work to be there when they install it, you tell me and I’ll be there. Once it’s in, you keep it active at all times, when you’re in or out of the house, with Janie or not. And I’ll pay the bills. That said, my men will be driving by and sometimes even sitting outside your house when you’re there. Don’t alert Janie to it and don’t concern yourself with it. When the threat is gone, I’ll let you know. It’s important to point out I’m uncertain there is a threat to either of you. But I’m not taking any chances.”
“Shit, Coert, what’s going on?”
“We talked about this, Kim. Just be smart, be aware of your surroundings, and if you think something is fishy, you phone me immediately.”
“Is Janie in danger?” she asked fearfully.
“My gut says no but she’s our daughter, Kim, so like I said, I’m not taking any changes.”
There was a hesitation before, “Are you in danger?”
He gentled his voice when he replied, “There’s always that and you know that too.”
“Okay, I . . . okay, I . . .” She didn’t finish that.
“You got this, Kim. Yeah?”
“I can . . . I can . . . pay for the alarm, Coert.”
“I’m not discussing that now. If we need to chat about it later, we will. But now just let me do what needs to get done. I’ll be around later to give you a picture of the man who got out so you can be aware. Again, I doubt you’ll see him. But if you do, you don’t call me. You call 911 immediately.”
Kim hesitated again before she asked, “Are you gonna handle this?”
“Yes,” he said low. “I am absolutely going to handle this.”
“Okay,” she said.
He heard her relief and he had to admit it felt good he could give her that, not to mention she gave such easy indication she believed he could do what he said.
But he couldn’t focus on that now.
“Gotta go,” he told her.
“Of course,” she replied quickly. “Be safe. Stay safe, Coert. Okay?”
“Right, Kim. Later.”
He cut her off while she was saying goodbye, and he made more phone calls that needed to be made that also had to do with the safety of people in his life but more about bringing that about in a permanent way.
He did this as he drove to the lighthouse.
He ended the call he was on with one of his deputies when he stopped outside the gate.
He got out and punched in the code. He returned to the truck and was driving in when he saw Cady walking up from the direction of the coastal path.
She was wearing a light down jacket with horizontal stitching in a green olive color, jeans, lace-up Storm Chaser boots with a patterned wool hat pulled down over her ears, making her mass of dark red hair bunch out the sides.
She looked like she was born in Maine.
Then again, transplant her to a mountain, she looked born for the Rockies.
She also looked ticked and her gait changed from wandering to irritated when she saw his truck. This meaning she advanced toward it quickly while he drove to the side of the lighthouse.
He parked, got out, and she was almost on him when she called out irately, “I’m really going to have to ask that you—”
“Did you get a dog?” he asked over the whipping wind.
“Really, Coert, it’s not—” she started, still advancing fast.
“Did you get a fucking dog?” he barked and watched her stutter step and stop.
So it was him that took the last four strides to get to her.
“Asked a question, Cady,” he prompted tightly.
“No,” she said softly, staring up at him.
“Get your purse. We’re going to the pound.”
She blinked, her head jolting and she opened her mouth.
He didn’t let her get anything out. He turned his back on her, walked directly to the door and turned the knob.
Fortunately, it was locked.
“I’ve got the key,” she said, still soft.
Using her shoulder to push him out of the way, she unlocked the door and went in.
He went in with her.
She moved to the island where her purse was, nabbed it, but turned around and stayed right where she was.
“Talk to me,” she urged gently.
“In the truck,” he said.
She looked a little panicked before she tried, “Maybe we should—”
“In the goddamned truck, Cady,” he growled.
She took him in with big eyes, nodded and scurried to the door.
He closed it and took the keys out of her hand to lock it mostly because he was too unsettled to stand there doing nothing. He handed them back to her when he was done, and she moved double time to keep up with his long strides as he walked to the passenger side door.
He opened it and closed the door when she was up and in.
He knifed up into the other side, rounded the truck in her huge yard and headed back to the gate.
He hadn’t closed it so he could drive them right through. It was annoying to have to get out and hit the keypad to close it but no way in fuck he was leaving it open.
He got back in and started driving.
She was silent beside him and he could feel her unease.
Finally, she got up the nerve to start, “Coert—”
“Lars got out of prison. Two years ago. He did his whole stint. Since then, fires have been started in Wyoming, Nevada and Minnesota with four more in Colorado. Lots of destruction. No deaths.”
“Okay,” she whispered shakily.
“The deaths occurred from five days to three weeks after the fires were set. The lighting of huge fires with a good deal of damage caused by arson being a focus, the murders of every member of Lars’s crew would not go unnoticed, but they would go unlinked.”
“Oh my God,” she breathed, fear wrapped around each word.
He didn’t like hearing that, he hated being the cause of it, but she had to know it.
And know it all.
“Lars thought you were a snitch. You were with me, and I turned out to be who I was so he thought you were a snitch. Maria knew that you knew dick, but Maria is a whacked-out bitch. As far as I know she did not disabuse him of this notion. They knew Lonnie was stupid, and Lars calling for his hit was about him being stupid, not being stupid in giving all he gave to me, because at the time Lars didn’t know it was very bad for him that anyone gave anything to me. But it wasn’t only Lonnie who spilled shit all over the place. I got close to two of Lars’s other crew, and Lars was a wannabe big man but he was not dumb. When he went down, with the scope of evidence we had against him, he knew his boys were not as smart as him. So he’s out and he’s pissed and he wants vengeance, and knowing that man like I do, he doesn’t care none of them ratted him out. He’s working his way through all of them to make them pay for his dream dying and his ass rotting in jail for fifteen years.”
“And you think he’ll come after me?” she asked.
“I think there’s a possibility he’ll come after both of us.”
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
“You need a dog. You need an alarm. You need a peephole. And we’re getting you a gun.”
He knew she’d turned her head his way when she whispered, “Coert—”
“Not arguing about it, Cady. You get all that or you move in with me.”
“I’ll get a gun,” she stated immediately.
Coert clenched his jaw.
He unclenched it to say, “We get you one, I’ll teach you to use it. It’ll be all good, Cady.”
“Okay.”
She said it but she totally didn’t believe it and he didn’t blame her.
“We get this done at the pound, I’ll get on the phone with my boys back in Denver. I’ve already got men at the station on calls with the folks in Nevada, Wyoming and Minnesota, sharing the link with them, others on the job of alerting local law enforcement what we’re on the lookout for. We all work together, one way or another, we’ll get him.”
“So you think he’s here now?”
“I think he’s here now.”
“You think he’s watching us?”
“I think he’s watching us.”
“Oh my God.”
He knew it was a tall order but he had to give it.
“Keep it together, Cady.”
She grew silent.
Coert did too.
She broke it.
“How did he find us? I mean, is it that easy to find people?”
Shit.
Shit.
“Coert?”
Shit.
His name came more urgent now because she felt his mood. “Coert!”
“Your investi . . . I mean, Moreland’s investigator.”
“I’m sorry?” she asked.
“He didn’t just keep tabs on me.”
“Oh my God.”
“That I got,” Coert told her. “He wanted to keep you safe so he kept tabs on all of them.”
“How do you know this?” she asked.
“Several years back, I broke into his hotel room and read the shit he was handing over about me. When I did, I found he had a lot of shit on that whole crew.”
“And . . . what? He worked for Lars on the sly?” she asked.
“I’ve no idea. And this might be jumping to conclusions. I just know I clocked him because I’m a cop. We notice when people are following us. Lars is a felon. He’d notice the same. And when Lars got out, my guess is Moreland would be sure to put that guy on him. And Lars is probably a whole lot better at breaking and entering than me.”
Cady said nothing.
“It might not be that,” he told her. “There aren’t a lot of Coert Yeagers in the world. Cady Morelands either. We wouldn’t be hard to find. That said, the rest of that crew would make it so they aren’t easy to find and only someone with investigative skills could find them. So it’s a stretch to put that two and two together, but maybe not that long of one.”
“I still don’t understand the fires,” she said unsteadily.
“I don’t know his state of mind, but I knew it back then. He was setting up to be the kingpin of Denver. He had schemes of taking out much bigger players than him to take over their operations. He was even making plans to build his army so he could take down actual gangs in order to get their turf. He was like a drug dealing Napoleon. He had delusions of grandeur. He had the charisma, and he was smart, but he didn’t have the kind of intelligence he’d need to see those kinds of plans through. He was not happy for more reasons than getting arrested and thrown in prison. He had big dreams and he was enraged when I killed those dreams. After he went down, he was paranoid that his crew had turned against him. The only one he trusted was Maria because he put her to the ultimate test and she passed. So now, I don’t know if he doesn’t give a shit if he’s caught again, but my hunch, he knows he will be caught but he’ll only give a shit if he’s caught before the job is completely done.”
“And the fires?”
“Distractions. Cover so he can get the job completely done. This was his MO. Back then it wasn’t fires, but to throw cops and enemies off the scent, Lars connived to have shit happen to turn attention away from the real shit he was doing that would put a focus on him and his operation. Now, you just got the deaths, one after another, easy to link individual murders in that crew with known associates in past felonies and pinpoint the perpetrator. But if you take your time, which he is, and the cops’ attention is turned to investigating an arson and not turned to investigating what appears to be a random murder, their focus on the fire, the fact it’s arson, the fact there were others before it with the same MO, doesn’t translate to linking that with what would appear to be random murders days or weeks later. And Lars is not a firebug. He’s a dope peddler. A good choice to go outside his norm giving him more of a smokescreen to put investigators off the scent. But just to say, in the mess of crime that can happen in places like Reno, Denver and Cheyenne, thin links like that can get lost. That slim link beefs up when Mills jetty goes up in flame and something happens to you or me.”
“Saved those for last,” she murmured.
Coert said nothing.
But he didn’t think that was where it was at.
The Minnesota fire and the ensuing murder had happened only three months ago.
So his guess was, he and Cady were just the farthest away and Lars simply worked his way east, and now, at the end of the road, he didn’t care what links were made.
Actually, his guess was Lars had no intention to go after Cady but she’d moved into Coert’s town, so she could end up being icing on his mindfuck of a cake.
“It still seems thin, Coert,” she noted. “How did you put it together?”
“Arsons with the same MO in those different places, I wouldn’t have if it didn’t happen in Colorado, Minnesota and here. Minnesota being the change of location to report for parole that one of the crew requested so he could go there and look after his sick mother. Add those together, run the other names, find them all dead, it fit together.”
“Are they all gone?” she asked.
“No. But there are only three of us left. You, me and Maria.”
“He can’t get to Maria,” she murmured.
“He won’t get to Maria. No way he’d take down his Josephine.”
“I never caught that,” she said like it was to herself. “You told me to watch for it, be careful around them but I never caught it.”
No she didn’t. She knew her friend was making exceptionally poor decisions, but she’d never caught how bad it was getting. Part loyalty. Part history. But mostly she’d been wrapped up in Coert.
“You weren’t watching as closely as I was, Cady,” he said gently.
“Yes,” she whispered then asked, “Do you think she knows he’s doing this?”
“She can’t have any contact with him, so unless he’s being clever, I doubt it.”
“He could write to her under another name that maybe she’d know but the prison people wouldn’t.”
Prison people.
He’d laugh if he wasn’t entirely freaked out.
“He didn’t strike me as a letter writing guy,” he shared.
“Right,” she murmured. He knew he had her gaze again when she asked, “Um . . . why are we going to the pound?”
“To get you a dog.”
“I know but . . . well, shouldn’t you be looking for him?”
“You need a dog.”
Again with the silence but this silence was weighty.
She broke it this time too.
“Five days to three weeks, Coert. It’s been five days since that fire.”
“He’ll come after me.”
“Your little girl.”
“Cady, he’ll come after me.”
“How do you know?”
He didn’t.
He just didn’t want her scared out of her mind.
“Dog, peephole and we’ll order you an alarm installed.”
It was then he knew she’d turned to look out the side window when she said, “When will all that stuff be over? It feels like we’ve lived it for eternity.”
Those words hit him in the gut because she was absolutely fucking right, it did.
But it never occurred to him she shared that with him.
He thought she’d gone on to live her life with her sugar daddy, and he was not unaware that she kept tabs on him, but he refused to allow himself to think on that or why she’d do something like that, telling himself she was screwed in the head and that was all the reason anyone like that needed to do anything.
But far more recently, he’d also been refusing to see that she’d been just as haunted by all of this since things ended between them as he had.
And she hadn’t kept tabs on him, her husband had.
But she’d absolutely lived those years just like him, being haunted by all the shit that had gone down that led to the end of them.
He didn’t comment on any of that. He couldn’t even take the headspace to process it.
Not then.
He said, “When people like that infest your life, sometimes it’s never over.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s how Lonnie’s parents feel.”
She said that and fell quiet again.
That time, Coert broke it.
“You really never went to visit her?”
“I do believe your colleagues probably shared that we had a rather dramatic altercation when I visited her in the police station.”
He couldn’t help it, he grinned at that because that was not only shared, it was on tape and he’d watched it.
She’d gone apeshit on Maria.
And even with a glass partition separating them, Maria had gone apeshit right back.
“He was messed up but he was a good guy,” she said pensively. “He was funny and sweet and he’d do anything for you. He had a crush on me and that wasn’t right but you can’t control who you like. I know that wasn’t his worst transgression but he didn’t deserve that.” She took a moment and finished quietly, “He didn’t deserve that.”
“No, Cady, he didn’t deserve that.”
They drove the rest of the way to the pound in silence and he knew they both had their heads in the same place, and that place was all over the place, none of it good.
When they got inside the shelter, Coert took the lead.
Without preamble or greeting, he declared, “She needs an adult dog, not too old, well-behaved, large, protective, loyal, unfriendly to strangers with a loud bark.”
The shelter worker stared up at him with her mouth open.
Coert was about to prompt her to get her ass moving and show them some dogs when he felt Cady sidle up next to him, and then he felt her knuckles graze his before her fingers closed around his own.
And for the first time since he put it together, he was not thinking of Lars or his daughter’s safety or Cady being in danger.
He was thinking about a memory that had remained vivid since the event happened when he was twelve and he was teasing his father about holding hands with his mother.
His father had been smiling but his voice was stern in a way that captured Coert’s full attention, and that and what he’d said created an unforgettable memory when he’d replied, “Trust me, when you find her, the woman you’ll wanna spend the rest of your life with will always be the girl you wanna hold her hand.”
He’d held hands with a lot of girls and his fair share of women.
But he and Cady didn’t move anywhere if they were in close proximity without his fingers curled around hers.
He’d missed her smell. He’d missed those green eyes. He’d missed the feel of her hair. He’d missed his hands on her ass. He’d missed her sense of humor. He’d missed how she might not have had a lot of experience in bed, but she was the best he’d ever had not (only) because of her enthusiasm, but because she was so fucking into him, she’d loved him so fucking much, that spilled out—especially when he had his hands and mouth on her, his cock inside her.
But there had been more times than any of those since he’d lost her that he’d missed just holding her hand.
Moving slowly like he was forcing his way through molasses, he looked down at her to see she was sending a gentle smile up to him.
“You can’t custom order them, honey,” she whispered.
He had no fucking clue what she was talking about.
He just knew he never wanted to move from that spot in that position staring down in those green eyes with her fingers wrapped around his for the rest of his life.
She was not caught in the same spell, he knew, when she turned to the shelter worker and said, “Can you just show us to the pups?”
At her last word, Coert forced himself to pull it together and squeezed her fingers.
“You’re not getting a puppy, Cady,” he told her when she looked at him.
“They’re all pups, Coert,” she replied.
“That’s very true,” the shelter worker finally spoke.
Cady shot her a grin before she turned into Coert and tipped her head way back.
“We’re here, we’re safe,” she said under her breath. “I’ll go look at dogs and you probably have some calls you want to make.”
He did and she was right.
She could look at dogs and he could make sure shit was in motion to find Lars.
He nodded.
Her face got soft, her fingers closed tighter around his and then she let him go and walked away with the shelter worker.
Coert spent forty-five minutes getting briefed from his senior deputy then calling Denver to give Malc and Tom a heads up about what was happening and getting them started on their end of the chase.
He’d find it was forty-four and a half minutes too long when he followed where Cady had disappeared and saw her in the middle of a wide hall in a large room filled with big cages on either side, most having dogs in them.
He tried not to look.
If he looked, Janie would also be getting a dog (or three) and he needed to take care of a dog as well as his daughter and a whole county like he needed someone to drill a hole in his head.
Cady was on her ass on the floor and she had a dog out of its cage. The dog was sitting between her legs, letting her pet it and looking like it was enjoying the attention if the amount of licking of her face the dog was attempting was anything to go by.
At first glance, it appeared she’d chosen well. The dog was large, formidable (not counting the licking) and looked like it had a lot of German shepherd in it.
Then he got closer, the dog went on alert, awkwardly getting on all fours, and the shelter worker moved cautiously toward the pair.
“Cady, no,” he said before he even arrived at them. “That dog’s lame.”
And it was, its left rear leg was holding some of its weight but not much, it was misshapen, having been injured so badly it clearly was unable to heal properly.
“She’s beautiful,” Cady murmured, hands in the dog’s ruff trying to get her to turn her attention back to Cady.
“Cady—”
Her head tipped back and Coert shut his mouth at the look on her face.
“Her name is Gorgeous Midnight Magic,” she whispered reverently. “Isn’t that perfect?”
Shit.
“Cady—”
“She’s purebred German shepherd, black,” the shelter worker said. “We were given her history and an elderly gentleman answered an ad for her in the paper. Her owners said her back leg was caught in a trap, but the gentleman was suspicious of this information and regardless that she was lame and exhibiting some behavior he found concerning, took her on. A vet confirmed his suspicions that the injury wasn’t due to a trap, but to abuse and the fact the injury received no medical attention, so it never healed as it should have.”
Shit.
The worker continued, “The gentleman unfortunately passed not long after and as his daughter and son both had a number of pets, they had to bring her here. She’s been with us for a while, and so we find her the right home, I have to disclose she has issues when it storms. She displays those mostly just trembling and hiding, usually in closets.”
Fucking shit.
“Cady, just to say, it storms a lot in Maine,” he pointed out.
The shelter worker wasn’t finished. “She also is perhaps a little on the overprotective side and has been known to corner humans that are strangers to her, and it’s been reported to us she can seem quite vicious, though to anyone’s knowledge she’s done no harm. However, she can only be called off by someone that’s known to her. And it’s important you know she’s a one-owner animal, and although friendly and affectionate to people that she knows or that she senses are okay from her owner, it’s been noted that her loyalty is focused almost solely on her owner.”
Coert looked to the worker. “We’ll take her.”
The worker’s lips quirked and she said, “We have an application process that takes just a few days to get approval.”
“We’re circumventing the application process,” Coert announced.
“Coert,” Cady murmured soothingly as he sensed her getting to her feet.
“I can see you’re the authority, sir,” the worker began, eyes tipping to his sheriff’s shirt and jacket. “But the procedures we have in place are for our animals’ protection and we take them seriously. The application process only takes three days since we also obviously want our animals to find their way to the warmth and comfort of home.”
“Ms. Moreland will apply but she’s taking the dog right now and if you have any issues with her application, you can inform her and we’ll deal with it then. Since you won’t, it’ll all be good.”
“Sir—”
He wasn’t one to throw his weight around.
Unless something like that was necessary.
Like now.
“Sheriff,” he corrected.
The worker sought help from Cady by looking her way.
And Cady did her best, saying to him, “I can wait three days for this beauty.”
The dog was sitting next to her, Cady’s hand in the fur between her ears, her tongue lolling, her eyes on Coert.
Coert looked to the worker. “How long has the dog been here?”
“About four months.”
Cady made a distressed noise Coert did not like at all.
Right.
“We’re circumventing the procedure,” he declared.
“Sir . . . I mean, Sheriff—”
“Do you seriously want this dog to stay in one of these cages for three more days?” Coert asked.
She looked to Cady, the dog, Coert and then she sighed before she said to Cady, “I’ll get you the forms.”
She took off and Cady got close.
The dog came with her like she was born to walk at Cady’s side.
Brilliant.
“Coert, I don’t have a lead or collar or any food or—”
“We’ll stop by the pet store.”
Her brows shot up. “Don’t you have a fire-starting, murdering, ex-drug peddler to catch?”
“Fortunately, I have sharp deputies that kinda like me and are fully briefed about the fact their boss is a likely target of a fire-starting, murdering, ex-drug peddler so they can get shit started while I take you and your new dog to the pet store.”
“I think you’re kinda crazy,” she whispered.
“I think I kinda already won’t sleep jack shit until I know Lars is caught, so maybe you can help me out by letting me set you up with a freaking dog so I might get a whole hour’s sleep at night instead of, say, none.”
She stared at him with big eyes for several very long beats before she said, “Okay.”
“Okay, now let’s fill out this application and get this girl outta here.”
To that she gave him a smile.
“Okay.”
She filled out the application.
They went to the pet store.
And finally he took her back to the lighthouse, burying the look Cady gave him when he refused to allow her to carry the huge bag of dog food into the house (like he’d refused to allow her to load it into the cart in the store or in the truck and the same looks she’d given him those times as well).
The dog did not explore her new home.
She jumped right up on Cady’s couch and lay down with a groan like she’d lived there since she was a pup, they’d just been on a tiring outing and she needed some shuteye.
When Cady witnessed that, she shot him a beam.
A goddamned beam.
Okay, yeah.
He missed holding hands with her, definitely, and all the rest, for certain.
He’d also missed her smile.
He responded to that emotion by clipping out, “I’ll be back later to put in your peephole.”
The beam died and she said, “I can get Walt to do that.”
He didn’t know who Walt was, and right then he didn’t have the mental capacity to think on that without maybe roaring his demand to know precisely who the fuck this Walt guy was and maybe freaking her out more than being the possible target of vengeance already was.
This meaning he’d also have to process his way to understanding why he felt such an overwhelming urge to demand precisely who the fuck this Walt guy was.
Even though, fuck him, he knew why he had that urge.
Instead, keeping tight control, he asked, “Can Walt drop everything and do it tonight?”
She bit her lip before she said, “Maybe, if I terrify him with the knowledge that someone may want me dead. But then he’ll only come to kidnap me because he’s that kind of guy, but even if he wasn’t, his wife is that kind of woman. So maybe I should just say I’m feeling a little weird about not having one and ask him to get around to it as soon as he can. He’s still here with his guys doing up the apartment over the garage, though this afternoon they’re off because they laid floors this morning and they can’t walk on them until they’re set. But I’ll only have to wait until tomorrow at most.”
Walt had a wife.
And they weren’t done working on the property so Cady would only be alone at night and the rest of the time a team of men would be on the premises.
Coert relaxed.
“How about we just say you’ll have one tonight because I’m installing one tonight?”
“Coert.”
“Cady.”
He said not another word, and for some reason her body locked.
He didn’t have time for that.
She had a dog. A dog that was reportedly vicious in protection of its owner. And Coert had no idea if the dog understood the concept of Cady at that juncture but he had a hunch the dog understood the bag of food and the couch, so if she wasn’t there yet, she was closing in.
So he could rest on that for an hour or two.
He had to get to the station and see how far his men had gotten with his orders. He had to order an alarm installed at Kim’s place. And he had to get to the hardware store to get a peephole. Then he had to get to Kim and give her a photo of Lars Pedersen.
“I’ll text before I show,” he told her.
“Right.”
“Locked doors, always, Cady.”
She nodded. “Right.”
He looked to her still in her cap with her hair bunched out around her cheeks and neck.
He looked to her dog that appeared fast asleep.
Then he walked right out the door.