Skylar gasped as snowflakes stung her cheeks like tiny needles of ice. The sky hung low and heavy, a blanket of gray stretched across the horizon, spitting crystalline flakes that swirled and danced in the wind.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Her breath clouded in front of her face, dissipating into the frigid air.
Rawley looked at her. “You don’t want to go?”
“What if I can’t get back? I can’t leave Cosmo alone for too long. He might be a pain in the ass, but I love him and hate leaving him.” She tugged her woolen scarf tighter around her neck.
“I’ll get you home. I’m used to this. I’ve made it to work when it was a lot more than this. My truck is four-wheel drive.”
“Alright. I trust you.”
Rawley grinned. “Good. Let’s get going.”
They trudged through the ankle-deep snow toward the truck, their boots crunching with each step. Rawley opened the back door for the dogs, who bound inside, bringing with them thesmell of wet fur. She made her way to the passenger side; fingers numb as she yanked open the door and climbed in.
Rawley slid into the cab. The leather seats were cold enough to bite through his jeans. He turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
“I could have gotten the door for you.”
“It’s too cold. Besides, I’m very capable of opening a door.” She smiled.
Rawley grinned and winked, then started the truck and drove to his place.
Chapter Fourteen
Monday morning light slanted through the blinds, brighter because of the snow, as Rawley pushed open the door to the office. The soft hum of fluorescent lights and the muted click of keyboards greeted him. He strode across the floor to his desk, shrugged off his sheepskin coat, hung it neatly on the rack behind him, then removed his hat and hung it up. He gathered the evidence bags and headed to Dave’s office and handed them off.
“I’ll run them for you. I hope we get prints since the knife and earring didn’t amount to anything.”
“Probably because they’d been stuck in mud.”
“Yep, no doubt. I’ll let you know on these.” Dave nodded.
Rawley returned to his desk and reentered the tags he’d gotten from Declan. He knew the deputy was diligent in his work, but maybe he could find something using fresh eyes. He preferred these photos to the ones on his phone, which he’d snapped in off-duty moments. If things ever went south, arrests, trials, he didn’t want any question about chain of custody.
“Morning, Rawley.”
He looked up to see Reece Maddox leaning against the edge of the desk across from him.
“Hey, Reece. How are you?”
“Great. You?” Reece’s gaze flicked to the files on Rawley’s desk.
“Same. How’s that beautiful wife of yours?” Rawley grinned, leaning back in his chair.
Reece’s expression went mock-stern, his eyes narrowing. “You stay the hell away from my wife.” Then he cracked a smile when Rawley laughed.
“Like she’d leave you for anyone.” Rawley waved a hand, still chuckling.
“I know,” Reece said. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Actually, yes,” Rawley replied, folding his arms. “And that’s all you’re going to hear about it.”
Reece grinned. “Fair enough.”
Rawley shook his head as Reece wandered back to his own desk. He glanced around the open-plan office, files stacked in neat towers, the soft whoosh of the ceiling fans. He thought about the team, good people, all of them, except that one time they’d had to arrest Agent Sanchez for leaking intel and informing men rustling about a stakeout. Sanchez’s betrayal had led to an ambush and the death of an agent. Everyone had felt the loss. Rawley shook off the memory and turned back to the computer screen. His mind drifted to the weekend with Skylar. An amazing woman. He picked up his phone and thumbed out a text.
Good morning.
