Mosquito Chase (16 page)

“They were embarrassed to be with me?”

“No, of course not. They’re embarrassed by the way they treated you. I dated Lance, remember? He wasn’t the best boyfriend back then, but he’s straightened up since he met Katherine. Love changes people.”

Thinking about all the evolving emotions I’d experienced recently, I couldn’t help but agree. I nodded and said, “I think this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“I think this is the first time we’ve ever spoken more than just a sentence to each other.”

“I’m sorry for being a bitch.” I winced slightly.

“I’m sorry for stealing your boyfriend.” She shrugged her shoulders.

I shrugged my shoulders the same way. “You can have him.”

We both laughed. It felt good to have a friend.

“Lance is going to be a tough one,” I said, an offhand comment.

“Probably so. I could see that being hard to go through, but the main thing to keep in mind is that everyone is now with the person they were meant to be with. Even you, Angie.”

I laid my hands across my stomach. I still missed Simon. Caleb was a great man. He deserved to be someone’s whole heart. I didn’t know if I could do that.

Before I could verbalize what I was thinking, Ellie seemed to understand and said, “He’s not going anywhere. He’ll wait for you.”

“I don’t want to make him wait, though.”

“If there’s one thing I know about Caleb Harris is that he can’t be made to do anything. If he waits for you, it’s because he wants to.”

“So, you think all of this really is genuine?”

“Did you ever doubt it?”

“I always doubt men.”

“Well, don’t. You have a Harris boy now. You can never doubt a Harris boy.”

It wasn’t his heart I doubted. It was his life.

The familiar drive to Main Street seemed different. Everything around me had changed. My world had completely changed. It scared the shit out of me, but I gladly welcomed the horror.

Sleeping with Angie proved to me this wasn’t all one sided. I wiped my hand down my face, pausing at a stop sign. If there was one person that could hurt me more than Tabitha, it was Angie. She wouldn’t just hurt me. She would obliterate me. But without her, I’d have nothing to lose.

After parking the car, I noticed Sheriff Harmon had arrived early. I bypassed the door to the station and went straight to the café without a second thought. It was true that I only drank decaf, but it had to at least taste good. I opened the door to the warming scent of ground coffee beans. I stood in line, which was odd at this time of the morning, but this week being Christmas, everyone had busy schedules.

“Large decaf!” a voice said from behind the counter.

I looked around until I spotted the cute redhead eyeing me with a little smile. After last night, the cute redhead would never get a chance. I was done for. Only one girl had my heart now, and it was going to be a miserable journey. That was pretty inevitable, but I didn’t give a damn. I would ride this high as long as I could. I shuffled out of line toward the counter, reached for my coffee, and gave her a little wink. That was as far as I would allow it to go while still reaping the benefits of free coffee. As soon as I reached the door to head out, a familiar face walked in.

“Don’t you have a farm to tend to?” I reached out a hand to my old friend.

“Don’t you have a cat to get out of a tree?” He returned the shake.

“That’s firefighters, dude.”

Tom laughed. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you … like … anywhere.”

I rubbed the nape of my neck and answered, “Just a bunch of cop stuff going on.”

“Is that so?” He asked while folding his arms. I suddenly felt the heat of interrogation.

“Yep,” I answered, looking him square in the eye.

“I call bullshit. I called bullshit at Thanksgiving and I call bullshit now. The only time you’ve ever been nonexistent was when you were dating Tabitha.” His eyes widened. “Is that why she’s been in town so much lately? Have you been seeing Tabitha again?”

“What! Fuck no, dude! What the hell?” I stepped back from Tom’s bullshit.

He uncrossed his arms and held up his hands. “I was just asking.”

“Sorry.” I shook my head and relaxed from defense mode. “That girl will never be a part of my life again. I don’t want her to be.” He nodded in understanding as I added, “Once work slows down, I’ll be out again.”

“I didn’t mean to give you a hard time or anything, just worried about you.”

“Everything is fine. Just cop stuff that I really can’t talk about.” I quickly added, “Maybe we can all hang out after Christmas.”

“That sounds good. I’ll talk to Lance.”

I nodded. “Tell Jordan I said hi.”

“Will do,” he called after me as I left the warmth of the café.

Yeah right,
I thought as I reflected on my insincere attempt to make plans to get together with the old crew
.
There was no chance Angie would ever agree to come down to Dixie’s Tavern with everyone. No chance in hell. And maybe that was a good thing. In all honesty, her moving forward and forgetting about the past was the only way she and I could move on. Maybe we really could have something more.

I headed out into the cold December, though I couldn’t feel the cold. I knew the wind was rushing against my face and my ass was frozen, but I couldn’t feel a thing. The adrenaline of the past twenty-four hours still pumped through my veins. I had to have her. I had to have all of her. I would never understand how she’d gotten under my skin, but she had, and that’s where she would stay. I wanted to keep her there for a long time.

I pulled open the door to the station and said ‘good morning’ to Devon. He just stared at me with no expression lurking on his face. That was very unusual for him. He was always showing some sort of expression, usually one of absolute cheerfulness.

“Everything okay?”

He stood up from behind the dispatch desk and exhaled. “You’re needed in the conference room.”

I eyed him intently and asked, “What’d I do?”

He shook his head and closed his eyes. When he reopened them that same dreary look remained on his face. “Parker found some information about the case.”

My body tensed. I looked away. My feet led me through the lobby and down the hall, but my head remained focused on Angie. I doubted that Devon would be so glum over a Mexican drug lord, which meant the new information had to be about Simon. I stopped before the open door and breathed. I walked in to find Sheriff Harmon looking over Parker’s shoulder, reviewing a file splayed out on the table. Parker stood when he saw me walk in. I looked between him and Sheriff Harmon, trying to read their faces, but they both appeared stoic and indiscernible.

“What’s going on? Devon said you found something. What did you find out?”

Parker fisted his hands and placed them down on the table. He exhaled without removing his stare from mine. “I’ll start with the easy part. Mateo Vargas is Miguel Santos’s maternal uncle.”

“Whoa, okay.” I sat down across from Harmon and Parker. “Well, it isn’t so farfetched. I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who got out of the car on Sigmon Road that day.” A rush came over me. “So, the guys responsible for Simon O’Reilly’s murder are in the area?”

“Vargas and Santos haven’t been seen since the day we apparently saw them,” Parker said.

“Do you think they went back to Mexico?”

“It’s too hard to say,” Sherriff Harmon added. “They haven’t been through any of the nearby airports; or at least we haven’t detected them at security.”

“Yeah, but any smaller airport wouldn’t have the security Charlotte’s airport has.”

“Not to that magnitude but sufficient enough.”

“Okay, we can deal with this. Angela didn’t interact with any of them as far as I know. They probably don’t even know who she is.” I took a sip of coffee. My shaky hands spilled a few drops onto my shirt. I stood up to get a napkin.

“Caleb, they know who she is.”

My head spun in Parker’s direction. My heart throbbed inside my chest. The coffee sloshed over the side of the cup, spilling onto the floor. I placed it down on the table as I turned toward Parker, resting both hands flat on the table as I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, but it was no use. I stared down at the table, my chest clenched in pain. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“How the
fuck
do they know who she is?”

I looked up at Parker. He grabbed his folder and stepped around the table. I moved back as he placed the open folder in front of me.

“Simon O’Reilly has been arrested seven times. He’s never stayed more than a few hours in jail.”

“Is he that good?” I asked.

Parker glanced at the sheriff. Both men seemed full of secrets.

I shot away from the table, facing Parker. “What! What are you not saying? Just say it!”

“He’s CIA.”

I leaned my head forward, my eyes widening at his statement. “Do what?”

Parker nodded and I looked at the sheriff. “What the fuck are we getting ourselves into?”

“Caleb, calm down.” The sheriff rose from the table. Parker turned and shut the door at my outburst, but I didn’t care one damn bit.

“The CIA couldn’t even keep one guy alive. We.
Can’t
. Do. This.”

Sherriff Harmon held out his open palm toward me, some attempt to settle me down. “We can and we will.”

“Bullshit, sheriff. You’re not thinking straight.” The anger burned hot inside of me. This went beyond Angie’s safety, this was about the safety of Parker and me. We were the best team on the force, but we weren’t trained for this. Nobody around here was trained for this.

“The CIA said he was still in Mexico. They’re not coming here for random meth labs,” Sherriff Harmon explained.

I slammed my hand on the table and pointed at the picture of Mateo Vargas. “That’s the fucking guy, Parker. That’s who we saw.”

“Maybe he’s back in Mexico,” Parker offered, but I saw it in his eyes that he knew we were fucked. This case was a death sentence.

“Or
maybe
he’s right under our fucking nose.”

“They claim he has no reason to be here,” Sheriff Harmon reasoned.

“Yes, he does. Angie. Angie is his reason for being here. They’ve probably figured out he was CIA and that’s why they killed him.”

“They just said they’d look into it,” Parker said. “I’m going to try reaching out again, but they’re CIA, they’re not listening to small town cops.”

I knew Parker was trying to calm me down, but I couldn’t seem to get there. I bent down to breathe and glanced at the file in front of me. I stared at the picture opposite of Mateo Vargas.

                  
Simon Donaldson – Deceased

“Donaldson. Not O’Reilly,” I mumbled, turning the picture toward me. Dark hair and brown eyes matched the vague description I’d gotten from Angie. If he were still alive, I knew I would never have had a chance with Angie. He had a clean-shaven face and a warm charm exuding from his minimal smile. He had been a hero in his own way; an unsung hero who’d died in anonymity. Not even Angie knew who he really was. I could never compete with that.

“He was born in Cleveland, Ohio.”

I chuckled at Parker’s words, an involuntary reaction to this new information.

“Not Irish then,” I said as all of the missing pieces fell into place in front of me.

“I read that his family immigrated to the U.S. in the 1850’s. So, technically, yes, he was Irish, but very American.”

I nodded, trying to absorb the new information and the responsibility weighing down me. I would have to tell Angie, but I had no idea how to go about doing that.

“This was supposed to be his last job, Caleb. He was planning to get out after he brought down Mateo Vargas, but Mateo got to him first.”

“I have to tell Angie.”

“It’s still an open case, Caleb,” the sheriff warned.

“How can I not tell her? He’s the father of her child. At least let me put her at ease in knowing that her dead fiancé wasn’t a drug dealer.”

“The less information she knows the better.”

“I understand that, but she has a right to know. They’re coming after her.”