Chapter Thirty-Six

Cameron

Morning coffee chats with Mom were becoming our thing. I didn’t actually mind. It was a quick chat, and then I went to work. I didn’t have to hang out with her all day. She got the chance to do her thing, and I did mine. It was the long evenings that were a bit of a drag. I hated hanging out with them every night. I mean, it wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly relaxing.

“Want to talk about it yet?” she asked gently.

I rubbed a hand over my tired eyes. “I don’t know.”

“I’m here when you’re ready.”

I took a sip from my coffee cup and felt the weight of the world on my heart. I couldn’t talk to Noah about anything this serious. We were great friends, but I wasn’t the kind of guy who shared my feelings all that well, which was why I was sitting here in complete misery now.

“I think I screwed up,” I said on a long breath.

“With Scarlett?” she asked, knowing me too well.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you care for her?”

I nodded again. “I do. Is that wrong?”

“Heavens no!”

“But, Becca and Ella… I mean, shouldn’t I wait longer?”

“Cam, you’ve waited three very long years. How long do you think you have to wait?”

I shook my head. My throat hurt with the emotions that were bubbling up inside me. “I don’t know. I thought I would never care about another woman. I didn’t want to care about anyone else after Becca,” I admitted.

“Son, what you went through is something a person your age should never have to deal with. You loved her. Becca knew that. Ella knows you loved her mom. There are no rules. No one can tell you when you’ve grieved enough. However, there is also no rule that says you stop living. You don’t have to live alone forever. I can’t imagine how it feels to be alone. You’re young, handsome, and a great father. Don’t keep yourself hidden away because you think you should.” She reached out and put her hand on mine.

I nodded, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak.

“You need to make things right with Scarlett before it’s too late,” she pushed. “Don’t miss out on the opportunity to love and be loved.”

“I’ve never…” I stopped talking, swallowing the lump. “I’ve never felt like this about another woman besides Becca. It feels like I’m cheating on her. You know me, Mom. I would never cheat on a woman.”

She smiled and nodded. “That makes me very happy, and I know you wouldn’t. It isn’t cheating. You can still hold love in your heart for Becca, but that doesn’t mean you can’t love again. Becca is gone. You can’t spend the rest of your life keeping vows to a woman who is no longer here.”

I choked back tears and wiped my face with the heel of my hand. “Thanks, Mom. I think I needed to hear it was okay. I’m going to try like hell to make things right with Scarlett. Hell, I don’t even know if she’s into me.”

Mom chuckled. “She’s into you—very into you—and I think she’s great. Don’t let her get away.”

I stood, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Mom. I’m sorry I’ve been such a moody guy the past week.”

She smiled and looked up at me. “I’m glad I could help.”

I left the house to take Ella to school with renewed strength. I felt a lot like a phoenix rising from the ashes. I had been close to breaking. Close but no cigar, life. I was going to brush myself off and keep on ticking.

“Daddy, are we going to go to Scarlett’s house ever again?” Ella asked as I pulled up for the drop-off.

I took a deep breath. “I hope so, sweetie. I really hope so.”

That seemed to satisfy her, and she bounced her way into the school. I loved how resilient she was. I wished I had a fraction of that resiliency.

When I got to work, I didn’t hide my disappointment in learning there were no new leads on my case. Jerry Smith could have been anybody. The DEA had hit a dead end with the Cooker investigation as well. The day had started out so well but had taken a turn for the boring. That was okay, I told myself. Boring was good.

It was a mundane day on patrol. I doled out a variety of traffic violations. It was a rather slow day in Nashville, which was rare. I wasn’t going to complain. My head wasn’t really in the game. It was on Scarlett and how I could smooth things over with her and try to start a real relationship.

It was about twenty minutes before my shift was over that my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of the holder in my car and immediately recognized Scarlett’s number.

“Hello?” I asked, a little worried there was something wrong. I couldn’t imagine any other reason she would call me after telling me she didn’t want to talk to me.

“Can you meet?” she blurted out.

“Are you okay?” I asked, finding myself always concerned for her well-being.

“I’m fine. I need to talk to you. Are you off work soon?”

“Yes. Let me call my mom and see if she’s okay with Ella for a while.” I realized it was stupid to ask considering Ella was going to be there regardless. “Where would you like to meet?”

“Same place as before?”

“Works for me. I’ll see you in thirty,” I said, eager to get my chance to make things right with her.

Once I hung up the phone, I replayed the conversation in my head. She hadn’t sounded like herself. She’d said she was okay, but what if she wasn’t?

I headed for the station, praying dispatch wouldn’t send me on a call, and quickly did my paperwork and clocked out at four o’clock on the dot. I jumped into my truck, stripped off my uniform shirt, wearing just my plain white tee and uniform pants, and headed for the coffee shop.

She got there about five minutes after I did. I had ordered us a couple lattes and pastries. I was starving and needed a little sugar pick-me-up and figured she could too after work.

“I’m sorry I was so short yesterday,” she said, sitting down. “I’m confusing my emotions. I’m mad at you because you hurt me. I know why you did what you did, and I don’t hold that against you at all. I think it’s sweet and admirable.”

I smiled, which I immediately knew by the look on her face was the wrong response.

“I’m smiling because I’m happy you want to talk to me. I’ve wanted to apologize the right way but didn’t know how. I don’t blame you. I’m not mad at you at all. I was scared, and I took it out on you. You were right, I shouldn’t have. I want to be friends, Scarlett. I want to start over and see what this could be. Obviously, things are a little tough right now, but I still want to try to see you.”

“I want to see you as well. And Ella if that’s okay?” she asked in a quiet voice.

I grinned. “Ella absolutely wants to see you. She asks me about you every day. Maybe we could set something up for Thursday when I’m off?”

“Okay, but before we get to that, I need to tell you something else,” she said in a rush.

It wasn’t exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for, but I would take it.

“What’s up?”

“Do you remember that band that was playing at the bar when Isaac found us? The Southern rock one?”

I nodded. “Vaguely. I know you liked them, but I didn’t pay them a lot of attention.”

“Okay, well, I went back and talked to the leader and got them to come to the studio for a sit-down. The studio manager told me to find an act and work with them so he could see what kind of work I produce. We did a recording for a single today.”

“Congratulations!”

She shook her head with frustration. “No, no. That’s not what I was getting at. The leader of the band—his name is Jerry Smith.”

I felt everything fall into slow motion. “Jerry Smith?” I repeated the name, making sure I had heard her correctly.

She nodded vigorously. “Yes! His group name is the Dealing Jacks. We recorded a song today that was a satire on cooking meth. At first I thought it was a joke. It was nothing like I heard them play in the bar that night, but the way Jerry kept looking at me told me something was off.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it. “He was in the studio with you?” My voice was pitched a little too high as my mind whirred over the details.

“Yes! The name of the song is ‘The Cooker.’ It was really weird. The lyrics focused on cooking meth and how fun and easy it was to do it right under the noses of law enforcement. Tom, the head producer—he didn’t really care for the song,” she rambled on.

It was as if a lightbulb had been lit directly over my head. It was no coincidence.

“Holy shit,” I breathed out.

“What does that mean?” she asked. “I mean, I know Jerry Smith is the guy who burned your house down, but do you think it could be the same person?”

I shrugged a shoulder, not wanting to alarm her. “I don’t know.”

“I should have told you yesterday. I’m sorry. It slipped my mind. But today, well, those lyrics, they were really eerie. It was like they were telling a story and predicting the future at the same time. I mean, I’ve heard Southern rock and most of the artists are not fond of the police, but these guys, they really don’t like cops.”

“What were the lyrics?” I asked.

She took a deep breath. “One of the lines was something about torching the pig’s house.”

I stood up, barely hearing her as I grabbed my coffee. “I need to get back to the station.”

“Is it him?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

“He’s supposed to be back at the studio tomorrow. Tom asked them to bring in a different track.”

“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to run out on you, but I have to go. Can I call you later?” I asked.

She smiled. “Yes. Please do.”

I smiled in return and rushed out the door. I needed to find out everything I could about this guy. As I drove back to the station, I did my best to remember that night. I remembered dancing with Scarlett and the singer pointing us out. At the time, it had seemed like no big deal. I tried to remember his face but came up empty. I had been focused on Scarlett, and then Isaac had shown up.

The guys onstage had not been something I’d thought twice about—until now. I hated that I had been that close to the man and didn’t know who he was. I had no idea how he knew me or had decided it was my house he should burn, but I damn sure was going to ask him when I slapped the cuffs on his wrist.

I hated that Scarlett had been talking with the guy and actually spending time with him. I had a feeling that wasn’t an accident either. I was worried about Scarlett. I needed to bust this guy before he could do anything to her.