“Good. The truck matches the caller’s description.”
The early evening hours passed slowly. They took turns at the observation post, documenting everything they saw, which wasn’t much. There was only occasional movement in the target cabin, the pickup truck stayed put, and there were no visitors or suspicious activity. Just the kind of tedious surveillance work that was ninety percent waiting and ten percent collecting actual evidence.
Around seven, Lena unpacked sandwiches from a cooler they’d brought. “Turkey or ham?”
“Turkey.” Erin accepted the sandwich and a thermos of coffee, settling beside Lena at the small table. “This is either going to be the most boring stakeout ever or we’re missing something.”
“Sometimes boring’s good. It means nobody is getting hurt while we watch.”
They ate in relative quiet, the conversation sticking to safe topics: case observations, weather patterns, speculation about if they’ll need backup. But as darkness settled over the mountain, the polite, professional topics began to run thin.
The cabin felt smaller with night pressing in around them. The single overhead light created a circle of warmth that seemed to shrink the space even further, making the bed that much more prominent, the proximity that much more undeniable.
“Your turn,” Lena said, taking a swig of the final dregs of her coffee and moving back to the window. “I’ll take the next watch.”
Erin picked up the binoculars, but found herself more aware of Lena moving around behind her than of anything happening at cabin twelve. The detective was reviewing case notes, but her usual focus seemed strained. Every few minutes, Lena would glance toward the window, toward Erin, then back to her papers with obvious effort.
“Anything new?” Lena asked.
“Same as before. Lights on, minimal movement.”
The silence stretched between them, filled with all the things they weren’t saying. The mountain night was perfectly quiet except for the distant sound of wind in the trees and the occasional hoot of an owl. No city noise, no distractions, nothing but the two of them in a space that felt more intimate than any of the places they’d spent time together over the past week.
Erin lowered the binoculars slowly, a decision crystallizing in her mind. “Lena.”
“Yeah?”
“We need to talk about this.”
Lena’s pen stopped moving across her notepad. “About the surveillance? I think we’re positioned well and have good coverage of?—”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
The words hung in the air between them, as unmistakable as the single bed and as undeniable as the way they’d been moving around each other all week. Erin turned from the window to face Lena directly, tired of pretending this was just another night working a case.
Lena set down her pen, but she didn’t meet Erin’s eyes. “We’re on a stakeout, Erin. This isn’t the time for?—”
“When is the time, then?” The frustration that had been building all day finally broke through. “Because we’ve been dancing around this since last weekend, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not happening.”
“We agreed to see where this goes. That means not rushing into?—”
“I’m not talking about rushing into anything. I’m talking about acknowledging what’s already happening.” Erin gestured at the space between them, at the careful distance Lena was maintaining and the tension that had been crackling all day. “This. Whatever it is.”
The small muscles in Lena’s jaw tightened, and Erin could see her walls starting to go up. The same protective instinct that had made her try to keep Erin away from the stakeout was the same fear that made her deflect every personal conversation with the guise of professional focus.
“Maybe we shouldn’t complicate things,” Lena said, her voice carefully controlled. “The case is our priority right now. After we catch this guy?—”
“Too late.” Erin’s voice was quiet but firm. “It’s already complicated, Lena. It has been since that night at Lavender’s. You can’t just…uncomplicate it by pretending it’s not real.”
The temperature in the cabin had dropped with the sun, and Erin found herself drawn closer to the small circle of warmth from the overhead light even as the conversation pulled them apart. Outside, cabin twelve remained quiet and ordinary, but she was no longer thinking about their suspect or what he might be doing. All her attention was focused on Lena, on the fear she could see building behind the detective's careful control, on everything they'd been too scared to name out loud.
For a moment, Lena's walls went up completely. Erin could see it happening, the familiar retreat to professional distance. But then something in the detective's expression cracked, and instead of another deflection, she just stared at Erin for a long moment, her jaw working like she was trying to find words that wouldn't come. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "What do you want me to say, Erin?"
"The truth." Erin moved closer, close enough to see the conflict warring in Lena's eyes. "What is this to you? Because the way we've been with each other this week doesn't feel casual to me. Neither is the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention or how you tried to keep me off this stakeout assignment."
"That's different. That's about keeping you safe?—"
"From doing my job." Erin's voice was sharper than she intended. "Which brings us right back to the problem, doesn't it? You can't separate your feelings from treating me like I'm competent."
