Body Heat (19 page)

“I'm not saying ‘I told you so.'”

“Then what are you saying? That you should've gone instead of me? Do you really wish you had?”

“No. Of course not. It's just… I don't know. I'm upset that you're hurt, and it makes me want to yell or hit something, even though that isn't logical.”

“We're both freaked out.” He'd done a dozen undercover jobs in which he could've been killed at any moment. Yet he'd survived them all relatively unscathed only to come close to goodbye forever doing pro bono work in Bordertown? What were the chances?

Jonah, who also worked for Department 6, had been shot in the back a year ago. He survived, but while Rod was with him in the E.R. he said something that seemed pretty damn apropos: It's always the jobs where you think you can skate by, the ones you don't expect to get you.

“So how will we get my Hummer back?” he asked. “
We
won't. We'll drop off the keys and let the towing company grab it. You're done for tonight. If I'd shown up any later they would've killed you.”

Here we go again.
“But they didn't,” he pointed out. “You arrived in time, and I'm okay. So we can both relax. What could've happened doesn't matter anymore.”

“Maybe we should've gone in
together,
” she murmured
as if better planning might have changed the situation. But taking her in there wouldn't have been an improvement. He shuddered to think of what they would've done to her.

“Then we'd both be planted in the backyard.” He braced against the sway of the car as she turned. “By the way, how long are you going to drive before you pull over and let me out of these handcuffs?”

“Oh, right.” The car slowed and the tires crunched on the rocky shoulder as she came to a stop. Seconds later, she opened the door and prodded him to lean forward.

Given the kick to his gut, it wasn't a comfortable position, but he didn't feel like getting out of the car, either. He swallowed a groan while she released him. Then he fell back, rubbing his wrists. “That was a close one.”

“
Too
close.” She turned his face to take advantage of the cabin light and clicked her tongue. “
Look
at you.”

Hoping to put her at ease, he attempted a playful grin. “Do I look tough?”

The worry didn't leave her eyes. “No, more like you've been hit by a bus.”

“Do you feel sorry enough for me to take me in?”

“Take you in?”
she echoed, letting go of him.

“I don't have a motel room anymore, remember? I don't even have a change of clothes.” He grimaced to make himself appear more pathetic. “And I really need to lie down.”

She bit her lip. “We haven't checked the other motel. Maybe they have a room.”

“You'd leave me there like this?”

He saw her soften a little. “Good point. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Now she was going too far. “I don't need a doctor.
Those boys were barely getting started. I just need some rest.”

“But I only have one bed.”

“I'll take the couch.”

She pushed his hair to one side to examine some injury he couldn't feel, thanks to all the others. “You don't suppose you have a concussion, do you?”

“Why? Am I not making sense?”

“You're making sense, but…”

He gave up the games. “I'm fine, Sophia. I need sleep. That's all.”

Letting her breath go, she straightened. “Okay, I'll take you home. But if I wasn't so relieved you made it out of there alive, I'd never go for it.”

“I should've told you how beautiful you are,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“When you lifted up your shirt earlier.” He allowed his eyes to slide shut. “It's all I can think about.”

I
n the end, Sophia didn't have the heart to make Rod sleep on the couch. He was too banged up. She helped him clean off the blood, put some antiseptic on his cuts, then guided him to her room, where he peeled off everything except his boxers and fell into bed. Less than fifteen minutes after they'd arrived at her place, she had a trail of clothing across her floor and he was taking up most of her bed.

“I'm
such
a sucker,” she mumbled. But she was on duty until four, which meant she had to go back to the station for a couple of hours. If she wasn't going to be home, anyway, she couldn't see putting someone who was injured on her uncomfortable leather couch, especially someone as tall as Rod. She'd figure out where she was going to sleep later.

She'd just opened her front door to let herself out of the house when a shadow loomed over her. Startled, she grabbed her gun before realizing it was Starkey.

“Whoa!” He raised his hands, eyes on the barrel. “What's with the quick draw, Tex?”

Embarrassed, Sophia put it away. She was used to hearing Starkey's motorcycle when he came by, but he'd wrecked it a few weeks ago and been borrowing vehicles
from friends and other gang members ever since. An old Camaro sat across the street, engine idling. She thought there was someone behind the wheel, but she couldn't make out who it was.

“Sorry. I normally hear you coming. And I guess I'm a little jittery tonight.”

“Is it those killings you've been investigating? They startin' to get to ya?”

Starting?
They'd been “getting to her” from the beginning. “Among other things.” Instead of inviting him in, she stepped out of the house and closed the door behind her. She preferred not to let him know that Rod was staying at her place. She wasn't sure why. It was none of his business, yet she knew it would make him jealous. He hadn't been willing to change his lifestyle to keep her but openly admitted he'd been a fool to lose her. She had the feeling that as he aged, he'd begun to wish for a more stable life and regretted that he hadn't done more for Rafe.

“What other things?” He accompanied her as she walked toward her car, which she'd parked in the driveway.

“Roderick Guerrero's motel room was vandalized tonight. You don't know anything about it, do you?”

“Hell, no. Why would
I
know anything about it?”

Because if anyone had his ear to the ground and could tell her what was happening in the seedy underbelly of this seemingly tranquil town, it was Starkey and his Hells Angels buddies. He was generally tight-lipped, didn't want to undermine his badass image by narking to the cops, but every once in a while she pried a few details out of him that came in handy. “The company you keep.” She jerked her head toward whoever was waiting in the Camaro.

“Johnny Greer don't know nothin'. He's part of the
Prescott chapter. He's thinkin' about relocatin' so he came down to check out the scene.”

She'd reached her car, but paused to finish the conversation. “I was hoping someone out there might be bragging about it.”

“Someone like Stuart?”

She felt her eyebrows jerk up. “That was fast.”

“You ask twenty different people in Bordertown and you'll get the same answer. It's no secret that Stuart hates Rod. Always has.”

True and yet…Starkey had spoken with such certainty. “Maybe so, but you've heard something, haven't you?”

“I've heard Stuart talking trash around town ever since Rod came back. That's it.”

“You're positive.”

He stepped close enough that she could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Would I lie to you?”

“If it served your purposes, yeah.”

He laughed. “Come back to me, and I'll never lie to you again. I'll change, get a real job, become respectable.”

Maybe he would. If he didn't get himself killed first. He
wanted
to change, but the partying had too firm a grip. His taste for drugs and alcohol always drew him back. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“You could say yes.”

“That wouldn't work, and you know it. I can't imagine you really want to be with me. We've been apart for nine years. We're not even the same people anymore.”

“All I know is that I can't get over you.”

She backed away when he tried to touch her. “Starkey, please. It's been a hell of a night.”

Breaking eye contact, he sucked in a hissing breath as if her words had stung. “Yeah, right.”

“Is that why you came by? So we can go through this again?”

“No, I don't know what I'm doing. Sometimes I see you and I realize what I could've had, how the past decade could've been different for Rafe.”

“You can change your life without me. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, maybe.” He didn't sound too convinced. “If I wanted to spend the rest of my life going to AA meetings. Anyway, I came to tell you I've got a bead on a guy who's selling silencers out of his garage.”

At last, a possible break. “Who is it?”

“Name's Jackson Riollo. Lives in Sierra Vista.”

“Has he sold one to anybody in Bordertown in the past six months or so?”

“Don't know yet. Got an appointment with him. Told him I'm in the market. Figure I'll see if he'll tell me anything about his clientele once I get there.”

“When's the appointment?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Good. Tell me how it goes.” Planning to drive out to the Simpson ranch to see if Kevin, Alma or James was monitoring UDA activity tonight, she opened her car door. She also wanted to go over to Charlie Sumpter's. Since she had to perform her usual duties and had fallen behind, the SAC had given her a light assignment—get hold of Charlie to see if there was anything backing up his blistering diatribes against illegal aliens. That was it. But she'd placed two more calls without success.

She'd have to look up his daughter, see if she could reach him that way. Until then, she figured it wouldn't hurt to drive out and take a look at his place, see if it appeared to be shut up for an extended period. If he'd left his dog
behind to be cared for by the neighbors, he'd probably be coming back fairly soon.

But Starkey made no move to leave.

“Is there something else?” she asked when he caught her door so she couldn't shut it.

“I have a question.” He hunched over so he could see her face.

She didn't bother inserting the key into the ignition. “What is it?” Surely he wasn't going to come up with more nonsense about getting back together….

Leaning close, he lowered his voice. “Is it true?”

She searched for clues in his face but couldn't see where he was going with this. “Is
what
true?”

“What I heard at the Firelight?”

His mention of the bar put her on edge. The Firelight had come up a lot lately…. “What did you hear?”

“That you and your…er…stepfather are…you know…having an affair.”

“What? When did you hear this? I was there earlier, and nothing like that was being said. I didn't even
see
Leonard.”

“It was right before closing.” He tapped the side of her car. “So…are you going to tell me?”

She couldn't believe he'd need to ask. He knew what had happened in the past, how abhorrent she'd found Gary's advances. “Starkey, I'd never have an affair with my mother's husband. He didn't get away with anything even when I was a teenager. That's why I moved out, remember?”

He seemed to breathe more easily as he straightened. “Okay. Good. I wanted to be sure. Leonard was flashing around that picture and, well, it made me wonder.”

Leonard?

Sophia gripped the keys so tightly the jagged edges cut into her palm. “What picture? Did you see it?”

He nodded. “You're naked.”

“What?”
Leonard had said
Gary
had the picture. Was it the same one? If so, how'd he end up with it? “You're sure it was me?”

“Positive. Had your tattoo sleeve and everything.”

A hard knot formed in her stomach. “But…where was it taken? How long ago?” She hadn't gotten her tattoos until after she'd left home. There was no way her mother would've allowed it when they were living together. Anne would've kicked her out even before Sophia chose to leave. To this day, she hated Sophia's sleeve.

“Hard to tell. Looked like it was taken in a bedroom, maybe, somewhere in the past couple years.”

Sophia shook her head. “That makes no sense. Where could Leonard have gotten hold of such a thing?”

“He said he got it from someone who works at the feed store. Wouldn't say who. Claimed he didn't want to get the guy in trouble.”

“That makes me sick! I can't even imagine…” Her mind reeled, but she couldn't come up with a plausible explanation for what Starkey had just told her. “You're
sure
it was me,” she said again.

“No question. And…”

That
and
didn't sound like good news. Was there more? “What is it?” she asked.

“Liz Torres was at the bar tonight.”

Liz was a member of city council. “What was she doing there? She doesn't even drink.”

“She was with friends from out of town.”

“No way.” Liz never went to the bar, especially so late. “Don't tell me
she
heard what was going on.”

“She saw the picture. The way everyone was talking and showing it around, I don't see how she could've missed it. And she didn't seem pleased.”

Of course she wouldn't be pleased. Sophia was in the middle of the biggest murder case ever to hit Bordertown. If she was having an affair with her mother's husband—or anyone else—that would create a scandal, and it would look as though she wasn't concerned enough, as if she wasn't doing her job.

“I've never slept with Gary, or undressed for him, or
anything,
” she said.

After seeing that picture, even Starkey seemed unsure. “For your sake, I hope not. Because I'm gettin' the feeling this town's about to lynch someone….”

And he didn't have to say who'd be the victim of that lynching.

 

Instead of visiting the ranches, Sophia headed straight to Leonard's place. She had to get ahold of that picture. The thought of the whole town seeing her naked and hearing the shocking story of an affair with Gary made her ill even without considering the rest of the implications. What if the city council let her go without so much as a recommendation? What would she do? How would she find work? And what if her mother believed the gossip? Surely, deep down, Anne
had
to know she'd never have an affair with Gary. Sophia had never liked him. But the gossip would embarrass them all. And Anne's insecurities and jealousies would once again come to the forefront, where they could easily blind her. This could break up her mother's marriage or, worse, Anne might blame Sophia for the whole thing and take Gary's side, as she'd done before.

Once she arrived, she sat at the edge of the property, staring at Leonard's dark trailer. She knew Rod would be angry at her for coming out here by herself. He'd say it was too dangerous. But she'd taken other risks that'd paid off, like going to Naco and the safe house. Besides, what choice did she have? She had to defend her job, her fragile relationship with her mother, her reputation.

Taking a deep breath, she turned off the engine and got out. A slight breeze sent a chill down her spine as she approached the front door. Until that moment, she hadn't realized she was sweating, but she wasn't surprised. It'd been so hot lately—at least one hundred and ten degrees during the day. With temperatures over ninety at night, there was no reprieve.

The cicadas weren't out tonight. The desert stretched silent and still in all directions—until she came closer to the house and Leonard's rottweiler started barking. Sophia flinched as he jumped against the fence and bared his teeth but she continued to the front stoop.

She could barely hear the sound of her hand hitting the wooden door above the ruckus of the dog. But she wasn't worried about being heard; the dog was loud enough to bring Leonard to the door even if her knock wasn't.

Fingering the butt of her gun, she backed up a couple of steps and moved to the side to wait. Nothing happened.

“Leonard?” she called, and pounded on the door again. “It's Chief St. Claire. I need to speak to you. Open up.”

The trailer remained dark, with only the dog making noise.

Sophia checked her watch. Nearly three. The Firelight
closed at two, which was why she'd come out to his trailer without checking the bar first.

“Leonard?” she called again, then tried the door. It was unlocked.

 

Leonard couldn't believe he'd found her. He'd been searching all over town, and here she was at his own trailer. He could see her patrol car sitting right out front.

A trickle of excitement ran through him, the first he'd felt in ages. This was a lucky turn of events. If he caught her inside, he could shoot her. He'd say she woke him out of a dead sleep, that he thought it was a burglar or maybe the UDA killer, which was plausible since he lived so far out of town, and claim he acted in self-defense.

But he had to get into his trailer, and he had to do it while she was still rummaging around.

Parking his boss's truck at a distance so the sound of the engine wouldn't tip her off, Leonard took his gun from the seat beside him and got out. Then, planning to go in through the back door, he circled wide. It wasn't as if he had to worry about setting off the dog. Caesar knew him. There'd be nothing to alert her to his return.

You're gonna get what you deserve.
This wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind these past few months. He'd first wanted to strip her of everything she held dear and watch her topple from her lofty perch.