“Cubby thought otherwise.”
“He’s overreacting. I’ve got this, so trust me, okay. I’ve been on my own now for years, and dealt with a lot of stress; I’ll deal with this too.”
“Sweet, I’ll tell Bran to keep the liquor cabinet stocked then.”
“Ha ha.”
They arrived at the lake, which was close to dark. The wind caused a ripple over the great expanse of water. Pushing up her sleeve, she dropped to her knees and submerged her hand. The cool crisp bite felt energizing against her skin. Water was a place where Katie had always felt comfortable. It was her second home. Sometimes when she was stressed in LA, she’d fill up a sink and just put her hands in water, and feel calmer. Weird, Jessie had called it. Katie could almost feel the cool water enveloping her body. It would be blissful.
“Not tonight, kid.” Jake read her thoughts
“You’re probably right,” Katie said, shaking her head. “I’d probably just sink if I tried to swim now.
He stood above her, steady and strong like he’d always been, and Katie tried to readjust to having someone watching over her again. It would be an adjustment for both of them.
“I remember the flashbacks; they would just hit me when I least expected them.”
Katie listened while he talked about what he’d gone through after Iraq. “It’s the guilt that really rides me, Jake. Why me? Why did I live and they die?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, Katie, only that I’m real happy you did. Had you died in that warehouse it would have ripped the heart out of us. You know that, right?”
“I know it. It’s just an adjustment, coming home.” He rolled with the change in conversation, knowing what she was alluding too.
“The adjustment is not just on your side, Katie. You left us a different girl than the woman who’s returned. Yes, we saw you a few times, but briefly, and we never really got a handle on the person you’ve become… the cop.”
“I-I just need some time to settle and get used to the family thing again, especially now, when my brain is all over the place. It’s hard to handle all the questions and love, and that sounded selfish and more like the brat I was.” Katie sighed.
“You were never a brat.”
“Sure I was. The youngest McBride, silver spoon and not a hell of a lot of substance.”
“That’s what you believed?” She heard the disbelief in her brother’s words.
“That’s what I know, but enough of the deep and meaningful for now.” Katie got to her feet again. “Got any bourbon?”
“Nope. I have some really nasty homemade blackberry wine that Branna’s dad made.”
Katie sighed. She really wanted bourbon. “It’ll have to do, I guess.”
Chapter Six
Cubby parked his cruiser out front of the office the morning after he and Katie had returned. The sign above the front door said The Lair. It was a new brass plaque, because some jackass tourist had stolen the last one. The sheriff’s office was in keeping with the rest of the town, in that it had a rustic feel with a slate front and native timber windows and doors. Two columns flanked the entrance, and he’d had the odd drunk wrap themselves around one to stop him from arresting them. Not a smart move, as the stone edges weren’t too forgiving.
Unlocking the door, he sprinted through the reception area and tripped on the leg of a chair, but managed to remain upright long enough to hit the buttons on the panel that would stop the alarm. Why the hell some idiot had placed it there, he’d never worked out. Rubbing his shin, he swore a few times, then feeling better, hobbled toward his office.
The place had a reception area manned by Rona, as it had been for years. The woman knew everything and could multitask better than anyone Cubby knew. Behind her were three desks, all in use by his deputies. A door behind them led to the cells, of which there were three. The walls were painted cantaloupe; he knew this because he’d found a color chart in his desk when he took up the job, and his only clue as to why came from his oldest deputy, Tank, who’d told him the previous sheriff was ruled by his wife and she’d wanted it that color. He’d got used to it now, but it took first-time visitors a while to feel comfortable with the pinky-orange décor. Walking through the organized chaos, he reached his office.
Compact, it had everything he needed, right down to the small coffee machine his mom had bought him last Christmas. Plugging it in, he made his first cup of tar. He drank it strong and black with one or two sugars, depending on the day and how he was feeling.
He fired up his computer, opened his e-mails, and saw there was at least fifty. He started at the beginning and began deleting. He wasn’t sure how people wanting to sell bear repellent got hold of his e-mail address, but the whole cyber gig was a mystery to him on many levels, so he simply pushed Delete on that one too.
He’d researched the Alessis yesterday, reading whatever he could dig up about them. Three brothers; the eldest ran the show and they were mean motherfuckers. Italian immigrants, the parents died leaving the eldest brother, Antonio, to step into the position of head of the family. They’d been linked to murders, drug deals, money laundering; you name it, they did it. Two of the brothers had done time for petty crimes, but nothing heavy had ever stuck, even though it was believed they were manipulating 50 percent of the drug deals in LA. They were mean bastards and they had Katie in their sights now because she had killed the youngest, Caleb.
Cubby was just printing out the stuff he needed when Brady wandered in. Not overly tall, the man had a lean, wiry frame and straight brown hair that matched his eyes. Cubby’s friend in San Diego had said Brady was a good man and just needed a break after dealing with some heavy stuff, so Cubby had taken him at his word and laid out the welcome mat. He’d been with them three weeks already, and proven a diligent, reliable cop, and as it was coming up to the busy season in Howling, with the Hot Foot Run in a few weeks and the weather heating up, the rest of his stay would be busy too.
“Welcome home, Sheriff.”
“Hey there, Brady, how’s things?”
