Deeper Than The Ocean by Julie Ann Walker
Chapter 16
10:43 AM…
“So what you’re saying is, you don’t have a clue who those men in the warehouse were.”
Chrissy tried not let her annoyance show. But it was difficult given she’d spent the last thirty minutes listening to Detective Dixon take her down every path he’d wandered in his bid to identify her and Winston’s attempted murderers, only to discover each avenue had netted him exactly nothing. Jack squat. A big ol’ pile of nada.
“Yet,” Dixon stressed. “I don’t have any clues yet.But I’m a tenacious sonofagun. And this job has taught me if I keep pulling strings, something usually starts to unravel.”
Chrissy didn’t miss his qualifier. Usually. Which meant not always.
If the warehouse guys were never found, would she spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder? Would every heavy-set man who crossed her path make her shudder? Would she forever be waiting for the moment when those assholes decided to finish what they started?
Dixon must’ve sensed her inner turmoil. “Don’t lose faith, Miss Szarek. We’ve barely started. There’s still plenty of work to be done.”
She liked to listen to true crime podcasts while folding laundry, but now she wished she knew a little less about police work. The podcasts made it sound like the first twenty-four hours were the most important, and after that, the chances of catching the culprits dropped exponentially.
Here we are already closing in on hour fourteen since the shooting.
“What string are you pullin’ next?” Wolf asked from beside her.
There still wasn’t an inch of physical space between them. But after their last heart-to-heart, she thought she detected an emotional distance in him.
Something was missing in his voice when he spoke to her. And she couldn’t find any of the usual teasing admiration in his eyes. In fact, she was pretty sure what she saw was confusion.
And maybe…wariness?
She briefly closed her eyes and pictured the last time he’d looked at her dead-on. It’d been after she motioned for the detective to take a seat in the rattan chair opposite the sofa. Wolf had glanced at her and their eyes had locked.
Then, for the first time in…well, maybe forever…he’d been the first to look away.
She went back over their last conversation and couldn’t fathom what she’d said to cause a change in him. Unless she’d upset him when she said she wanted to be in love without falling in love?
But why in the world would that have bothered him?
Unless… That little voice whispered that one word. Then, it waited for her to fill in the blank.
Unless Wolf wanted her to want to fall in love with someone. But why would he care one way or the other? It was her life to live however she pleased, not his.
Unless…
Unless the person he wanted her to want to fall in love with was him.But why would he want that? He was a playboy.
Unless…
Unless he fancied himself falling in love with her and had convinced himself his wild oat days were behind him.
You know the sound basketball shoes make against the court when a player skids to a stop? Well, that’s the sound Chrissy’s brain made inside her head.
Sweet heavens. Is that it? Does Wolf think he’s falling for me?
“…because the Coast Guard isn’t exactly forthcoming with their logs,” Dixon said.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Could you repeat that? I zoned out.”
Zoned out and homed in on a possibility that totally blew her mind. We’re talking gray matter confetti shot out of a freakin’ circus cannon.
“I said I’m waiting for the Coast Guard to send me a log of the boats they searched in the marina yesterday,” Dixon obliged. “But they’re not exactly in a hurry to cooperate. I’ve been told I can expect a copy by this afternoon at the earliest.”
It was tough, but she was determined to keep her mind on the matter at hand instead of the man sitting beside her. The one who was so warm and who smelled so good and who may or may not think he was falling in—
Gah!
“And you’re hoping that’ll tell you what?” Wolf asked.
She’d always liked his voice. It was one of those deep, harmonic baritones that belonged to a disc jockey. Now, for some reason, her brain conjured up a scene of what it would sound like on a warm, seductive night with the cool breeze rattling the fronds of the palm tree growing outside her bedroom window and the music from Duval Street echoing in the distance.
Why is it when I tell myself not to think of something, that’s all I can think about?
She had the same problem with ice cream and peanut M&Ms.
“Once I have a list of the boats, I can search the names of the operators and owners. Maybe I can find a couple of guys who fit your description of the shooters.” What looked to be a blob of dried syrup was stuck to the bottom of Dixon’s tie. It caught his eye and he scratched at it.
The poor man was even more rumpled-looking this morning. No doubt because, in his hunt for the fiends from the warehouse, he’d barely taken time to sleep, much less iron his clothes.
Chrissy suddenly felt shitty for having been annoyed with his lack of progress.
“In the meantime,” he continued, “I’ll keep a police presence here with you and one at the hospital with Mr. Turner. And as soon as I get a lead on the shooters, I’ll let you know.”
She was glad he’d phrased it that way instead of if I get a lead on the shooters. His confidence helped shore up her own.
“Thank you for stopping by with the update, Detective.” She stood at the same time Dixon did. Unlike Dixon, she wasn’t rock steady in the vertical position. Thanks to that second pain pill, the room became a dance party and did a quick spin around her.
Probably shouldn’t have taken the meds on an empty stomach,she scolded herself as Wolf wrapped a hand around her elbow. The instant his warm palm cupped the joint, she would swear 120 volts of electricity shot up her arm.
“Easy.” His voice was quiet. His eyes were not.They roiled like black fire.
“Thanks.” She used the excuse of needing to adjust her sling to pull her elbow from his grip.
His touch had always affected her. But given her most recent revelation—Was it a revelation or am I totally off base?—she now felt stunned by the feel of his hands on her.
“Oh!” Dixon was halfway to the door when he turned and snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot. A couple of officers found Cliff Barnes sitting on the front steps of his house. He has a bump on his forehead the size of a goose egg and is making noises about being walloped by someone who stole his car. No one believes him, of course. For one, he’s already three king-sized sheets to the wind this morning. For another, the location of his injury is consistent with him hitting his head on the steering wheel when he planted the nose of his Celica in the ditch.”
Chrissy frowned, remembering the moment Wolf wrapped her up in his arms and then launched them both in the air. The man truly was hero material.
Too bad he’s not husband material to boot.
“At least with Cliff’s car out of commission,” she said, “he can’t mow over anyone else.”
“No chance of that.” The detective shook his head. “He’s been arrested for reckless driving, leaving the scene of an accident, and driving while intoxicated. Surely one, if not all,of those charges will stick. If someone tries to run you down anytime in the near future, it won’t be Cliff.”
“Gee thanks. That’s so comforting,” she said and thought she might have seen a ghost of a smile cross the detective’s face. But it was gone so quickly, she couldn’t be sure.
When he opened the door to leave, he was met with a raised fist and automatically ducked. Then he realized it was only Jill, her knuckles poised to knock, and he lifted his hands in the air as if she were pointing a gun at him.
“I promise I’m working as hard as I can to solve the case,” he said. “No need to resort to violence.”
Jill harrumphed and gave Dixon a quick once-over. Judy and Janice were lined up behind her, per usual. “I’m assuming that means you don’t have any leads, Detective?” Jill skipped the pleasantries.
“Yet,” Dixon stressed again. “I don’t have any leads yet.”
“Well then, I won’t need to resort to violence yet.But if you don’t have something by this evening, I might.” Jill stepped over the threshold like she owned the place. Which, Chrissy had learned, was how Jill felt about the whole island. It was hers to protect, and everyone who lived on it was hers to fuss over.
Or boss around.
In Jill’s mind, those two things were indistinguishable.
Bossy or not, Chrissy was glad to count the woman as a friend. It’d been Jill who taught her about business deductions—which ones were liable to have the IRS breathing down her neck. It’d been Jill who told her about Drummer looking too cozy with his beer distributor, which had prompted Chrissy to sneak into his phone and find the damning sext messages. And it’d been Jill who kept her in casseroles and tubs of Blue Bell those first couple of months after her mother passed, when Chrissy hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to brush her hair much less cook for herself.
By the looks—and smells—coming from the Pyrex dishes in Judy and Janice’s hands as they followed Jill into the house, it appeared Jill was back at it, playing the part of Mother Goose as if she were born to it.
She folded Chrissy into a soft hug. “I was so glad when I called the hospital this morning to check on visiting hours and they told me you were being released. It’s good to see you up and on your feet.”
“Thanks.” Chrissy tilted her chin toward the dishes. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, you guys. This time I only have a broken wing.” She gingerly lifted the arm in the sling. “Not a broken heart.”
“Both make it a bother to cook,” Judy piped up, coming forward to buss Chrissy’s cheek. Judy always smelled faintly of the bleach she used to mop the floors of her convenience mart. “Tommy got your customers out to Sambos Reef right on time, dear. So don’t you worry. Everything’s taken care of.”
“I’m going to pay him double,” Chrissy swore. “He deserves it coming to the rescue like this.”
“Pfft.” Judy waved her hand. “Don’t go spoiling him more than he already is.”
Judy liked to pretend she was tough on her nephew. But the truth was, she adored the kid as much as she adored all the people in her large, extended family, and she turned into a big old marshmallow around him.
Chrissy looked at the tinfoil-covered dish in the woman’s hand. “Speaking of spoiling… Please tell me that’s your famous bacon macaroni and cheese.”
“None other.” Judy winked, her glasses magnifying her eyes and making the gesture look slightly cartoonish, especially when paired with her fire-engine red hair.
“And this here is that peach cobbler you went on about.” Janice lifted her glass baking dish.
“You all are too good to me.” Chrissy felt a welcome rush of warmth.
“We’ll talk later, Miss Szarek,” Dixon said before stepping outside to say something to Officer Ryan. She saw Ryan nod, and could just make out his response to the detective. “Everything’s locked up tight. I’ll post up out here on the front porch.”
While his presence brought her a measure of peace, it was having Wolf around that made her feel truly safe.
“Come into the kitchen so you can set down those dishes.” Chrissy beckoned the three ladies farther into the house as she skirted around them to shut the front door. Her air-conditioner was already running like a jet engine, fighting the good fight against the day’s heat and humidity.
“No good will come from air-conditioning the world!” her mother used to shout when Chrissy would run outside, forgetting to slam the door behind her.
The memory brought with it a wave of despair and a deep, surprising longing for simpler times.
But that’s the thing about grief,she’d learned. It doesn’t always come at you head-on. Sometimes it sneaks up on you from behind, hitting you when you least expect it.
She was especially vulnerable when she was tired. And right at that moment? She felt like she was born tired.
Grabbing the doorknob, she was more than ready to shut out the outside world when she saw Romeo and Mia coming up her front porch steps. Pasting on what she hoped passed for a smile of welcome, she said, “Well, hey you two.”
“It’s good to see you out of that hospital bed.” Romeo stopped at the top of the steps at the same time Chrissy felt Wolf come to stand behind her. Every hair on the back of her head stood on end, as if they were magnets and he was metal.
“It’s good to be out of it,” she managed. Although, to be honest, with Wolf wrapped around her all night, the hospital bed hadn’t been all that bad.
That was the thing about Ray “Wolf” Roanhorse. He made bad things bearable and good things better.
After telling Mia “Wolf talked the nurse into releasing me early” when Mia mentioned they’d stopped by the hospital first, she gestured for them to come inside.
“I know it’s a little early for lunch, but Judy’s made her famous bacon macaroni and cheese and Janice was kind enough to bake me a peach cobbler that’s so good you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven. I have a whole gallon of sweet tea. Who’s hungry?”
“Rain check.” Romeo remained rooted to the spot. “I have some business to go over with Wolf and then Mia and I need to get back out to Wayfarer.”
“I’ll take you up on the tea.” Mia wiped a hand across her glistening forehead. “Spiro and I have been running all over the island this morning picking up metal detectors.”
“Spiro?” Wolf glanced from Mia to Romeo and back to Mia in time to see the woman blush.
“That is his name, you know.” Mia lifted a defiant chin.
Well, well, Chrissy mused. Maybe there’s more to meek and mild Mia than any of us thought.
“Can I bring you something to drink?” Mia asked Romeo and Chrissy saw something that resembled panic cross the man’s face. Then his usual mega-watt smile returned.
“Nah.” He winked at Mia. “I’m good. Go on inside and cool off. I’ll come get you once it’s time to head out.” He waited until Chrissy waved her inside. Then he motioned for Wolf to follow him toward the wrought-iron bistro table pushed into the corner of the porch.
“Be there in a bit,” Wolf told him. Chrissy was about to turn and follow Mia, but she stopped when Wolf tapped a finger under her chin. “You okay? You’re lookin’ awful pale again.”
“I’m tired,” she admitted. “And that last pain pill is making my stomach cramp.”
“Go eat,” he told her. “It’ll help. After I finish chin waggin’ with Romeo, I’ll run everyone out of your house.”
She opened her mouth, but he didn’t wait for her answer before heading in Romeo’s direction.
“Did I hear you say something about macaroni and cheese?” Officer Ryan had been looking over the postage stamp-sized plot of land that was her bougainvillea and saw palmetto-filled front yard. But now he was staring at her with longing in his eyes.
She chuckled and waved him inside. “It’s bacon macaroni and cheese. Come on in, Officer. I can’t have you fainting from starvation while on duty.”
The policeman slid by her, and she turned back in time to see Wolf grab a seat at the wrought-iron table.
He might think he’s falling in love with me,she decided. But he’s fallen victim to his own hypothesis about my mother. He’s confused lust with love. Probably because he’s never had a woman rebuff his advances before.
The question now was, how was she going to convince him of that?