Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4) (14 page)

Without batting an eyelid, Joe responds, "Never doubt it, but I don't think you have to worry about jail, buddy. Just tell us the rest."

His eyes downcast, he picks up where he left off. "I heard Dad say something about not liking the way a murdered witness would look on his track record, and the guy on the other side laughed, saying... saying it was a bit too late for Dad to get squeamish. That it was done. I think I must've said something out loud then, ‘cause dad looked up and swore at me, telling me to close the effing door. I never went back to school, locked myself in my bedroom. Dad knocked on my door later and told me to pack up all my shit, that I was getting on the first available Greyhound back to Mom. He said my stupidity may have cost both of us our lives."

This is where my big, strapping sixteen-year-old son loses it, but before I can get to him, Joe has him in those big comforting arms and lets him sob on him. My poor baby, such a burden to carry. And if that fucking asshole comes anywhere near
my
son again, I'm gonna put my scalpel skills to good use on his hide. Anger, fear and pain for my child battle it out in my chest and I feel like throwing up when Caleb comes over and pulls me up of the couch.

"Come on you girls, let's give these guys some time," he says, urging us to the back deck.

"That's my son in there. Wait a minute!" But my protests fall on deaf ears as I find myself pushed into one of the big loungers on the deck.

"Yes. Your son, who was treated like shit and put in danger by his asshole father and who would probably feel like even less of a man if his mother were to shed tears over him now. Let Joe take care of him."

"He's just a boy," I protest.

"I spent an afternoon with him, watching him empty clip after clip into a pile of targets, scratching his balls and getting high off adrenaline. Your son is a man," Caleb says firmly.

"Fine, but did you have to mention the ball scratching? I could've done without that visual," I mumble, causing Katie to laugh.

"N
eil's coming down for the pig roast this weekend anyway, so I had Dana book him a room at the motel while Naomi and Fox are still in the guesthouse. He's finishing up on a file this morning and will hit the road this afternoon. I have to go on a short run next week, but with Katie so close to her due date, Caleb's gonna stay close to home and Neil will hang around. Of course we have Mal now too."

"Sounds good, Gus. Thanks. Makes me feel better knowing they're covered while I try to dig through this shit heap."

Since Fox finally told us about the reasons he was sent back to Cortez, I've been in constant contact with the Phoenix PD. One of their detectives is scheduled to get down here early next week to take Fox's statement, but it had taken me a day and a half of dealing with their threats of obstruction of justice if I didn’t immediately hand deliver Fox to them, as well as a phone call from Gus to one of his many contacts, before they toned down and agreed to meet at my office instead. No way in hell was I going to step back and let them work that kid over. Especially not after I could feel every guilty tear he shed work into my heart. Neither he nor his mom were going to be without my protection at any time. Besides, those idiots still haven't been able to tell me the whereabouts of Maxim Heffler.

I haven't seen Naomi since I kissed her on the porch at Emma's when I dropped her and Fox off. I'd briefly spoken to Gus and she was waiting for me outside when I left, just like I'd asked. I didn't think Fox was ready to see his mom make out with the sheriff and I needed to have my mouth on her before this case would suck me up. And suck me up it did. I've only managed to talk to her on the phone twice and haven't been back to Cedar Tree yet.

Just as I thought things with the Phoenix PD were under control, I got a call from the Cortez police chief, giving me a head's up that a partial fingerprint had been found on a red crayon found in Fox's room. Since the message on his wall was done in crayon and no other crayons were found in the house, the assumption was whoever wrote the message brought the crayon and must've accidentally left it there. A stroke of luck, ‘cause getting prints off paper is always a hit or miss. They ran it through AFIS and it came back belonging to a small-time crook from Grand Junction who had done some time in juvie before getting hit with his first felony charge for drug trafficking two years ago.

I've been on the go since seeing his mug shot. It was the goatee guy from the attack on Michael. I had been absolutely wrong in dismissing them for the break-in at Naomi's. Apparently our young friend is more refined than I’d given him credit for. Felipe Rivas has been front and center on my mind ever since, and I'm eager to get my hands on him. Underestimating him was a mistake I won't make again. He may be a small time criminal, but that was a sophisticated mind-fuck he left for Fox, and something about it still didn't smell right.

For now, Fox and his mom would be safe in Cedar Tree and I'd like to keep it that way. Gus is instrumental in making sure of it.

"So has Naomi mentioned anything about those places she was planning to check out yesterday?"

"I heard her mention to Emma last night that one of the places looked promising, but she wants to show Kendra first. Why don't you give her a call yourself and find out?"

"I might. You haven't mentioned anything yet about Wednesday's meeting with the detective from Phoenix, have you?"

"You said you would handle it, so I didn't. You gonna handle it?" Gus wants to know.

"Yeah. I'm gonna handle it."

"Sometime before Wednesday?" Gus is testing me now and he knows it, judging by the barely concealed chuckle I hear.

"Fuck off. I said I'll handle it."

Truth is, I don't want to do this over the phone. I want to look her in the face when I tell her, because I have a feeling she might freak. Either at the fact that Fox is now considered a person of interest by the Phoenix PD, or the fact that I've risked my badge trying to keep her and her son tucked away in Cedar Tree for now. I'll have to though. Today, because as far as I know, she is back on shift at the hospital this week, and wouldn't be hard to track down there. I'll have to convince her to call in sick, or try and figure this the fuck out before then. With so many loose threads in my hands going in different directions, the latter seems more and more unlikely.

Carol holds me up on my way out the door.

"Joe, a Frank Bancroft called for you when you were on the phone. Says he's from some law firm in Phoenix?"

I recognize the name, although what James Miller's law partner wants to talk to me about is beyond me. First priority is to get Naomi up to speed, before I get bogged down even further.

"Leave his number on my desk, thanks Carol. I'll catch him later," I tip my hat at her on my way out to the parking lot.

In my truck I quickly dial Naomi. "Hey Doc, are you home?"

"Joe." The way she says my name, like she wanted to hear my voice as much as I wanted to hear hers, does something to me.

"Say my name like that again and I won't be able to drive straight." I smile when I hear her chuckle. It's a good sound and there's been too little of it lately. "Heading over. Any chance you're alone?" I add, living in hope and earning another laugh from her.

"Sorry. I wish."

"Fuck, woman. You're making it hard on me," I grind out, shifting to relieve the growing pressure against my zipper.

"I think that's the nicest thing someone's said to me in a long time," she plays my words back at me and the sultry tone that has slipped into her voice makes me want to slip my hand in my pants and palm my ever-growing erection. Parking lot of the County Sheriff's Office. Right.

"Honey, unless you want me to lose my job for indecent exposure, you better let me go so I can get on the road. See you soon."

All I hear is her soft giggle as she hangs up.

With an uncomfortably hard cock crowding my pants, but a big dumb smile on my face, I pull out of my parking spot.

I have no idea why I'm so giddy today. Actually, that's a lie; I have a pretty good idea.

The past few days have been pretty intense, with Fox freaked out, asking questions I don't really have answers to, and Jenna Stanley on the phone trying to make me pick up extra shifts again. Guess she hasn't heard the word
'no'
much in her life, because she just will not let up. On top of all that, I haven't seen Joe since that scorcher of a kiss on the porch. A kiss that left me feeling highly unsatisfied, and no way to relieve it with Fox sleeping a few feet away in the bedroom.

This state of limbo is not agreeing with me, edging me ever so close to either a repeat anxiety attack or that dreaded pit of despair I don't want to end up in. So I'm done feeling out of control and am grabbing the bull by the horns. Fox may not like it—yet—but something tells me this is the right time, when life is upside down already, to see how I can make some of those ideas I've been toying with a reality. We need a new place—because there is no way in hell I'll ever feel at home or secure again in my house—and I need to look for a space suitable for a clinic. If the two can be combined, even better.

Now Cedar Tree isn't that big, with a population of maybe 1200 or so, but I know with the neighboring Ute reservation and the abundance of even smaller towns dotting the area, I can make a go of this. One of the reasons the emergency room at the hospital gets overrun so often is because there are few other options around for medical care. Sure, there are some clinics in Cortez itself, but it isn't easy to even get an appointment, and most those doctors are affiliated with the hospital and split their time. No. I want a clinic that is set up like a more old-style family practice. Where people can come in for anything that ails them and only when needed will they be referred through to the hospital or a specialist. A lot of the simpler treatments, I can handle on the spot. With Kendra on board to offer PT, and hopefully a nurse practitioner at some point to help with the daily clinics, this would be a dream come true.

Arlene actually came up with a few suggestions, one of which I really love. The old feed-store has apparently been empty since 2010, when the much bigger farm and ranch supply place in Cortez opened and slowly killed the smaller business. The owners stuck around for another two years in the attached farmhouse, but ended up finally moving away. The place has been vacant ever since. Just south off the main thoroughfare right before hitting the town line of Cedar Tree, it sits on a decent parcel of land visible from the road. At least the storefront and the parking lot are; the house itself is set to the back and shielded by old grove trees.

I wish Joe had been with me. Fox refused to come, preferring to mope around the guesthouse and play on his Xbox, so I went with Emma. But I think Joe's insight might've been helpful. Kendra would have to see it too. Emma can turn grits into caviar and was excited about the possibilities for the place, but I don't have that kind of creative vision. She did get me all worked up and enthusiastic, but I need Joe's voice of reason to balance it out. We spoke briefly the other day and I told him about my plans to have a look around. He seemed to like the idea, and said he would've loved to tag along, but he was tied up with work.

I’ve surprise myself at the way I've slid into this supposed
'friendship'
of ours. I mean, I hated the man for years. Okay fine, not hated exactly, but just seeing him or hearing his name would piss me off. Now here I am, suddenly wanting his input.

I shouldn't be surprised that the phone rings right then and seeing that it's Joe, I already have a smile on my face. A little bit of sexy banter later along with the knowledge that he is on his way, and not even Fox's dark scowl from the couch can burst my giddy bubble. I so badly want to get horizontal with that man; that is if I haven't forgotten how by now. Having a broody sixteen-year old man-child around, makes that a bit of a challenge though. I do slip outside, leaving Fox to get sucked back into his game. The pathway that runs along the cottage to the guesthouse in the back is pretty sheltered on the side of the garage, so I lean against the stucco wall there. Waiting for that familiar truck to pull up.

The truck barely comes to a stop before the door flings open and Joe comes barrelling towards me. He must've spotted me in the glare of the headlights, because his eyes are on me until his body is pressed up against mine, my back against the wall.

"Had to see you." His voice is low and gruff and his hands cup my face before his mouth descends on mine, kissing me with such passion it draws the breath from me. I hang onto his neck and curl a leg around him, trying to draw him as close as I can to me. His lips leave mine feeling bruised and swollen as he places kisses along my jaw and down my neck. Lifting my breasts in his hands he presses them together as he dips his face in my cleavage, breathing deep.

"You smell so fucking good. I could stand here all day, breathing you in."

"I missed you."

At my words his head pops up and a slow smile spreads over his face. "You did?"