***
“Ms.Caron,” Detective Carter said, entering the café with another officer.“Two calls in three nights.You trying to get the full benefit from your taxes?”
Cujo closed the door then locked it.
Drea was busy brewing a pot of coffee.The smell made his mouth water.Gotta give the girl credit; as soon as the squad car pulled up, she was pulling out of his arms and putting those walls back up.His Shortcake was keeping it together.Sure, he knew it was a mask.He’d felt her shaking in his arms, seen the sparkling sheen of tears before she’d wiped them away.It was admirable under the circumstances.
Adrenaline flowed through him, it’s sharpened barbs tearing at his veins.What he wouldn’t give for just two minutes with the asshole.He’d watched, waited for the guy to make a mistake.But he didn’t.So he never got his chance to pound the fucking guy into the vinyl floor tiles.
Shit.They’d been held up at fucking gunpoint.And Drea kept talking to the guy, trying to figure out what he wanted.Putting himself between her and the gun seemed liked the only way to keep her from bodily harm.
“Detective Carter,” the cop said holding out his hand.Cujo took it, and so what if he grasped it just a little harder than was customary?Frustration, a need for violence, and plain irritation at the way Carter checked out Drea’s ass, ate at him.
“Brody Matthews.”
“Good to meet you, Mr.Matthews.”His attention shifted to Drea, shaking her hand a little longer than Cujo would have liked.“Same guy, Drea?”
“Yes.I didn’t get the best look the last time he was here, but he had the same voice and build.”Her voice wavered.Cujo reached for her hand.Her fingers were chilled.
“Have we got security footage?”Carter waved his pen toward the small black domes in the ceiling.
“No, we don’t.”Drea shook her head.“The system didn’t come back on line after Thursday’s power outage.Did you get anything from the videos?”
“Videos?”Cujo felt like he was joining a movie halfway through.Didn’t she just say they weren’t working?
“From before the power was cut two nights ago.Detective Carter took the footage to one of their techs,” Drea clarified.
“So did they find anything?”Cujo echoed Drea’s question.
“Obviously the woman.We’re running her image through a whole bunch of software to see if we can find out who she is.No hits so far.The two assailants don’t appear on it at all.”
“Damn.”
Carter and his partner, Officer De Luca, searched the premises, then took their formal statements.
“Given we’ve got no camera footage, we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.Can you guys come down to the station on Monday?We’ll have one of our sketch artists work with you, have you take a look at some mug shots.”
Drea tensed.Cujo understood her fear of getting involved farther, but it was too late to go back.It didn’t make sense for the two of them to do it when he could draw it right now… before she had the chance to talk herself, and him, out of it.
“Could you get me a piece of paper, Shortcake?And a pencil, please?”
Drea ran to the back of the store, returning with a small stack of paper and other supplies.He eyed the eraser.“Really, what kind of amateur do you think I am?”A fucking eraser.Honestly.He chuckled.
“You can sketch?”Carter looked at the paper curiously.“Are you any good?”
Cujo closed his eyes for a moment, conjured a mental image of the guy Drea was now calling Snake.He slid his hand across the surface of the paper, picked up the pencil, and checked its weight and balance.
“Yeah.I am.”
He started with the basic face shape, more of a rectangle than an oval.The subtle bump in the chin took some time to capture properly.The lines of symmetry at the midpoint of the head were crucial for lining up eyes, ears, and cheekbones.Proportions,Miss Murray, his old art teacher had said, were the key to understanding any artistic endeavor.
Coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup as Drea placed it next to his elbow.He could feel the nervous energy rolling off her.He looked up and winked.It was the only comfort he could give her right now.Drea’s hand rubbed his shoulder, and he put his hand over hers for a moment.“Thanks.”The coffee tasted as good as it smelled.Cujo couldn’t resist looking at Carter.Yeah.Her hand’s on my shoulder.Sucks to be you.
He continued to sketch, marking the location of all the key features and starting to add them systematically.A slight hollowing of the face exaggerated the cheekbones, which looked feminine on the guy.
He glanced up.She was leaning on the other side of the counter, directly opposite, watching his sketch come alive.Her chin rested on one hand, her pinky finger trapped between her teeth.Not biting, just holding—those pink lips soft and tender.
Her eyelashes flicked up and she pinned him with her gaze.Busted.
