Skeletons in the Mist (The McCall Twins) (13 page)

BOOK: Skeletons in the Mist (The McCall Twins)
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He reached for the door and slowly pushed it open. His first instinct was to make sure there was nobody else in the room, even though he was fairly sure there wasn’t. Once he deemed the room clear, he set the safety and shoved his gun into the back of his jeans. He watched her for a moment. She was underneath the covers, her face turned in the opposite direction. She was shaking like a leaf. Instantly he felt bad for her. She was obviously terrified, not that he could blame her. She’d had one hell of a night.

“Roxy?” he finally said, his voice soft. He didn’t really want to scare her more than she already was.

She turned abruptly, her eyes locking with his. He immediately saw the fear there—the despair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” She swiped at the tears on her face quickly and sniffled.

“You didn’t. I was already awake.” They stared at each other in silence. Finally he spoke. “What can I do?”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because she started sniffling again. She covered her face with her hands and turned into the pillow behind her head. “I just want to go back home. I shouldn’t have come here.”

Sighing, he walked over and crouched down next to the bed. “I know last night was bad. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

She shook her head almost frantically. “You don’t understand. It’s all happening again.”

Confused, he waited for her to say more.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you about last night.” She spoke and the words came out in a hiccup.

“Okay.” Frustration ate at him but he forced himself to remain impassive. “So tell me now.”

“He said my mother’s name.”

He took the words in and digested them.

“Only he didn’t use her real name—the name everyone else called her. He used a different name. Rose.” She looked him in the eye. “That was her middle name and the only person that used to call her that was my father.”

The air in the room seemed to thicken. Chas frowned, trying to make sense of what she was saying. “Are you sure you heard him right?”

She hesitated. “At first I thought I was dreaming. But now I don’t think so. I heard the words. I felt his breath on my ear.” She shivered. “He said, Rose, I knew you’d come back.” The words seemed to die on her lips and she started to shake again.

“Maybe you were dreaming. The whole thing was pretty traumatic.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I felt him there. That’s why I woke up. I had left the light in the bathroom on. I hate the dark. He turned it off. I heard him say the words.”

Seeing that she was on the road to hysteria, he sighed and set a hand on her exposed arm, trying to
calm her down. “Okay. Just calm down. He’s gone now.”

“My father is dead, Chas.” Her eyes looked haunted.

He couldn’t argue with that. He’d seen what was left of Hank Tavish after he’d taken a gun to his own head. He’d been one of the first cops on the scene six years ago. “I think you’re upset and confused right now. You’ve had a rough night. You need some sleep.” He kept his voice gentle as he stood up straight.

“I can’t sleep. I keep hearing his voice.” She avoided his gaze, obviously not used to admitting her weaknesses to anyone. It was clear that she was accustomed to dealing with her problems on her own. When a stray tear slid from one of her eyes, she reached up and swatted at it quickly.

Without giving it much thought, he let out a sigh and walked around to the other side of the room. He pulled his gun out of the back of his jeans and set it on the night table. Then he climbed onto the free side of the bed and made himself comfortable against the headboard.

“What are you doing?” she asked cautiously.

He glanced down at her. “I’m going to sit here until you fall asleep. The sooner you’re out, the sooner I’ll leave you alone.”

She narrowed her eyes, sniffling again. He expected her armor to slide swiftly into place. He expected her to argue with him out of pride. She surprised him by nodding her head. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He immediately decided that he liked the feisty version of Roxy Tavish better than this version. This version was tugging at the strings of his heart with a vengeance. Hell, she was tugging at more than the strings of his heart. Trace’s warning played itself over inside of his head again and he grimaced. This could not get personal. She was part of his job, that was it.

“Chas?” Her voice came out in almost a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble. If you had called me a week ago, I would have had a job and money and a car.”

He grinned halfway at that. “You’re having a tough week, that’s for sure. It can only get better.”

“I hope so.” She snuggled deeper into the blankets, her eyes slowly drifting closed. A moment later, she was fast asleep.

TWELVE

When Roxy opened her eyes, it took her a minute to orient herself with her surroundings. She was in an unfamiliar bedroom. Sun was brightly shining through the window directly to her left. When she lifted her head, she realized one thing right away. It hadn’t been resting on a pillow—and neither was the rest of her.

Frantic for a moment, she froze. Chas was lying next to her, sound asleep. She was wrapped around him like a blanket. Their legs were still tangled together and his arm was resting haphazardly over her stomach. The position was oddly intimate and immediately her skin warmed—well her skin and another rather personal area.

She wasn’t sure what to do. She knew he’d offered to stay with her until she’d fallen asleep the night before. Apparently he’d fallen asleep too. Had she wrapped herself around him in the middle
of the night?

Embarrassment crawled through her. She never cuddled with a man—not that she’d had all that much experience with men. Maybe three boyfriends in the last six years—and boyfriend was a strong word. The relationships had been short and sweet. They definitely hadn’t involved cuddling at any time.

This man was not even a relationship. He was a cop working on her aunt’s murder case. What had she done?

She turned slightly and he stirred. Immediately she froze again and did the only thing she could think of to do—she pretended she was still sleeping.

She heard his breathing change, felt his arm move, his hand flattening over her abdomen. And then he seemed to freeze too. She waited to see what he would do next. She felt his hand lift carefully from across her middle. He had a little more difficulty untangling their legs without brushing against her rather intimately. The feeling of his midsection brushing against hers sent a jolt of electricity through her, popping her eyes open
involuntarily. There was no disguising the bulge in his jeans.
Thank God he had jeans on
.

Their gazes locked, both looking rather panicked. She heard him swear and he ran his hands over his face wearily as he untangled himself from her and backed away quickly. He sat up, cursing again as he looked at the bedside clock. It was after eight in the morning.

Unsure what she should do, she just continued to lie there awkwardly. Better to let him get up first. After all, they were in his house.

He glanced back at her after a moment. “Do you want to shower first?”

So he was going to play the avoidance game. Two could play that one. “Sure. Unless your brother wants to.”

He grimaced. “He’s gone by six. He’s always at work before everyone else.”

“Oh.” She wondered why he looked so upset at that. Then she figured it out. Likely Trace had already discovered that his brother hadn’t slept on the couch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s not your fault. Just get ready, will you? I’m
late.” He got up abruptly and disappeared from the room.

Chas glared into his coffee cup, avoiding his brother’s gaze, which he could feel on the back of his head. He’d been avoiding Trace’s eyes all morning, knowing exactly what his twin was thinking. While last night had started out innocently enough, it certainly had ended a bit more complicated—not that he and Roxy had done anything sexual. But he had woken up wanting to. And that was where his guilt came in. So for the rest of the morning, he’d basically treated her as though she had the plague.

And she was pissed. He could tell. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her sitting in an office chair, tossing dirty looks his way every time he spoke to his brother and acted like she wasn’t there.

“Loretta Kennings is on line two, Chas. She wants to talk to you,” an officer called around the corner of the cubicle. Chas grimaced. The last
thing he wanted to do was go ten rounds with Loretta Kennings this morning. Regardless, he had no choice but to take the call.

“McCall.” The greeting was curt.

“You told me to call you this morning if Tabby wasn’t back. She’s not. And don’t you dare tell me that I’m overreacting, Chas McCall. I want something done about this. This is my daughter we’re talking about and a mother knows when something is wrong.”

Chas leaned back against his desk, willing the pounding in his head to subside. “I understand your concern. I’ll send an officer to the junkyard to have a look around. I’m sure she’s with Woody and the boys—unless there’s someone else you think she could be with. Another friend?”

“Good for nothing, white trash,” she muttered. He heard her light up a cigarette. “Tabby doesn’t have any other friends. Not except that Tavish boy and we both know where he is.”

“Did Abel take a look around at the yard last night?”

“I don’t know. I left him a message after we
talked,” she said sourly. “I have a feeling he got distracted because I haven’t heard from him. He’s probably at the saloon, sleeping it off in the backroom. I’ll check in with him on my way to work. Lazy bum. I’m making some changes in my life starting today. Big—”

Chas rolled his eyes and interrupted her, not in the mood for a lengthy conversation about the things her life that she was planning to change, but never got around to actually doing anything about. “Okay. We’ll send someone over to the junkyard and have a look around.” He disconnected and looked at his brother. “Tabitha Kennings still isn’t home. Her mother’s insisting something’s wrong. Someone should go find the kid and haul her ass home.”

Trace nodded wearily. “I’ll get someone on it.” He picked up his phone and made a call.

Knowing he could no longer avoid it, Chas looked at Roxy. “It would probably be a good idea for you to meet with Scott Briggs and decide on a course of action for Devon.”

“I thought he fired Scott Briggs.”

“He’s not in charge of himself, Roxy.
You
are in charge of him. Whether or not you use Scott Briggs as his attorney is up to you, but regardless, Devon needs a lawyer right away.”

She was quiet a moment. “I don’t have any money for another attorney. I already told you that. We have to use Briggs.”

“Then you should talk to him and make sure he gets things going. In the meantime, I have some work I need to do. You can stay here and use my phone. It’s not a good idea for you to be out running around by yourself. Not after last night.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t just sit here all day. When are you coming back?”

“Roxy, I have a job I have to do. I can’t drag you with me wherever I go. It’s not only unethical, it’s dangerous.” He saw the flash of anger in her eyes and ignored it. The best thing he could do for the two of them was get some space between them.

Still angry, she stood up. “Fine. I don’t need to use your phone. I have one of my own. Is it all right with you if I step outside to use it?”

Clearly her dander was up again. “I’m giving
you advice, not an order. Someone did attack you last night.”

Her face paled noticeably. “I’m well aware of that,
Detective McCall
.” She turned and left the office in an obvious huff.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Chas wasn’t surprised by Trace’s question. “Don’t start with me.”

“You’re going to screw this up. I can see it coming. Why did you sleep with her?”

Chas scowled at his brother. “I didn’t sleep with her.” He frowned. “Not in the sense you mean. She was upset last night. I told her I’d stay with her until she fell asleep. I was tired and I fell asleep too. Nothing happened.”

“Dude, I saw you this morning before I left for work. You were tangled up like a string of year-old Christmas lights. You may not have acted on it, but I know you well enough to figure out that you were thinking about it.”

Chas didn’t bother lying. He never lied to Trace. He just continued frowning.

Trace leaned back in the chair, his eyes
narrowed. “I don’t get it. I mean she’s cute and all. But she’s definitely not your type. You usually go for big—”

“Will you just shut the hell up?” Chas avoided his brother’s gaze. “I don’t need you telling me what my type is.”

“Don’t get mad at me because you’re thinking with your dick.”

Annoyed, Chas swore. “I’m not thinking with my dick.”

Trace remained silent, which only irritated Chas more.

“You’ve done plenty of thinking with your own dick over the years so don’t throw that shit at me.”

Trace shrugged. “Maybe. But I’ve never tangled my dick up in a case.”

Chas knew that was true enough. Trace was the ultimate professional. “I’m done talking about this. Just drop it.”

Trace backed off, merely shaking his head.

Chas suddenly thought of something. “She told me something last night that warrants looking into. Apparently the guy that attacked her called her
Rose.”

Trace thought that over. “Interesting. Who’s Rose?”

“According to her, that’s a name her father used to call her mother. It’s also her mother’s middle name.”

“Hank Tavish has been dead for six or seven years.”

“I want to see his case file. I want to see the file for Dinah Tavish too.”

THIRTEEN

Roxy waited for Myles to answer her phone call. Unfortunately it went straight into voicemail. She knew her friend was probably working. It was only ten on Friday morning.

Sighing, she breathed in a bit of fresh air. She was sitting in a park, down the street from the police station, trying to decide what her next move should be. She’d already called Scott Briggs and left him a message to call her back. She wasn’t sure what else she could do to help her brothers at this point. She had no transportation and no place else to go. Not only that, Chas was right, someone had attacked her the night before. She felt unsafe, even sitting in the park in the middle of the day, within a few seconds of the police station.

BOOK: Skeletons in the Mist (The McCall Twins)
12.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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