fingers trail along the side of the large red utility vehicle. She inspected hoses and dials, then dug into the bucket for an old toothbrush. Might as well hit those spots where nobody ever remembered to clean.
She was standing on the running board polishing a handrail when a door opened on the other side of the building. Footsteps, slow but steady, paced toward her.
It was probably Wyatt. He had never been able to understand I don’t want to talk.
Lowering her hand, Erin grabbed the rail and turned, but she kept her place as she checked her watch. Over an hour on the truck. No wonder her neck ached as much as her heart.
The man who rounded the front of the ladder truck wasn’t her cousin.
Jason.
Her fingers tightened on the handrail while she fought to keep her expression impassive, but her insides jolted at his unexpected appearance. In the fullness of the overhead lights, he was everything she remembered and a whole lot more. Those blue eyes had first caught her attention over a decade earlier. While they held concern, they lacked the warmth she’d once enjoyed. Instead, they were wiser and darker, as though they’d absorbed everything he’d seen on his many deployments. His thick sandy-blond hair was longer on the top, tousled, but the smooth skin at his neck said it had been recently cut.
He’d filled out over the past few years, his shoulders broader, his chest firmer beneath his creamy beige sweater. And while it was impossible, he even seemed to be a couple of inches taller.
His height made her glad she’d stayed on her perch on the brush truck. He’d always towered over her by several inches.
Warmth breezed through her with the memory. She’d loved the way her head tucked beneath his chin when he held her. It made her feel protected, like nothing could touch her. The outside world and all its troubles had always drifted far away.
“You okay?”
She blinked twice, warmth morphing to embarrassment. She was staring at him. Had been for who knew how long. Balling her free hand, Erin dug her nails into her palm and turned back to the truck, inspecting an invisible spot on a coupling. “I’m fine.”
“And that’s why you’re polishing chrome in the dead of night?”
Jason’s voice held a knowing it shouldn’t. How often had he found her at the station doing the same thing? He’d always known where she’d run after an argument. He’d always found her.
Yeah. There would be no making up tonight or ever again. At least not with Jason Barnes.
She had to remind herself why it hadn’t worked between them. He’d repeatedly tried to force her hand with her father, refusing to understand why she couldn’t tell her dad the truth about their marriage. Jason had fought against her, not with her, and certainly not for her.
Armed with her catalog of reasons he was every bad idea in the world, she faced him. “What are you doing back in town?”
“Stationed at Camp McGee as an instructor. Got here about a month ago.”
“A month. Were you going to warn me?” The words bit as the emotions of the night congealed into an overarching anger she couldn’t harness. Jumping from the truck, she prepared to pour out every tirade she’d ever practiced in her mind.
But footsteps on the other side of the bay stopped her.
Jason turned toward the sound at the same time she did.
Wyatt rounded the corner with police chief Arch Thompson at his side, their expressions grim.
Erin tensed. Whatever was coming, it was clear...
Her world was about to tilt again.
* * *
“Meth?” Erin eyed the evidence bag police chief Arch Thompson held at his side.
The whole night was spinning faster, circling with all of the ferocity of a whirlpool that threatened to drag her under. Now it had bled into the small dayroom of the fire station. Her home away from home had been invaded by the carnage outside, with Chief Thompson adding more pieces to a story spinning so far out of control it was ceasing to make sense.
Tall and slim, Thompson looked more like a pro basketball player than a small-town police chief. But tonight, his typically smiling eyes were dark and troubled. He stood between the kitchenette and the couch in the dayroom, Wyatt beside him, the two men dominating the space. “Afraid so. And even more, there’s—”
“No.” Jason had been standing by the back door, silently watching the men. The rigid set of his shoulders and the corded muscles in his neck held a tension Erin hadn’t seen since their last face-to-face conversation, right before he walked out the door forever. “No. Angie wasn’t a courier. I’d have known. We’d have known.”
Who was we? For the hundredth time in two hours, Erin wondered who Angie was to Jason. He seemed to walk a tightrope in his grief, one that fell to anger on one side and sorrow on the other. Underneath it all, though, there was an underlying something she couldn’t quite get a read on. The full story was bigger than he was letting on.
“Erin says the suspect vehicle came by the station a few times, but has never hung around. She also says she saw Angie Daniels exit her vehicle tonight and hold up this envelope. Without testing I can’t be a hundred percent positive, but having had more than our fair share of busts lately, I’m almost certain. This is crystal meth.” Chief Thompson lifted the bag higher. “Convince me she was innocent.”
Jason scrubbed his hand over his hair, his expression drawn. “Angie was a straight arrow. A volunteer who kept spouses in the loop when the soldiers were deployed. One of those people who never had a bad mood. Nothing she ever did or said points to this.”
“Why would she get out of the car telling me not to ‘hurt him’?” The words were out before Erin could stop them. She had to say something, to defend the woman she’d failed to save. If she continued to keep silent, she’d find herself across the room with her arms around her ex-husband, trying to comfort him in the loss of whoever this woman was to him. It didn’t settle well with her heart or with her stomach, if she was being perfectly honest. But no matter what had happened in the past or who they were now, she couldn’t let Jason stand by and listen to more accusations against someone he obviously cared about. “And she was scared. Of me. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“She could have been high.” Wyatt’s voice was low, almost as though he didn’t want to say the words. When Jason straightened as though he was going to argue, Wyatt held up his hand to stop him. “I have to ask the hard question here, Jason, the one we’re all thinking. Angie Daniels was married to your teammate, but you’re awfully invested in this.” He swallowed hard, glanced at Erin, then back at Jason. “Were the two of you—”
“No.” The emphatic tone in Jason’s voice left no room for argument.
Relief made Erin grab for the back of the couch, but recrimination soon followed. A woman was dead. Was she really concerned about how much Jason cared? Now? Lord, give me back my right mind. She sure wasn’t getting through this night without His help.
Sinking to the edge of a recliner a few feet away from Erin, Jason rested his elbows on his knees and let
