Watching Trin by Freya Barker

Chapter 28

Bodhi

Her side of the bed is empty.

I grab my phone off the nightstand and check the time. Seven thirty.

Downstairs I hear movement. Vic will be at work already; it’s probably Tuck on his way out the door.

I called Cap back last night after Trin disappeared to bed and told him I needed the day. Someone’s got to stick close to Trin. In addition to that, her friend arrives this morning and needs a pickup from the airport. Then there’s Tucker’s birthday tomorrow, which will require some running around to prepare for. But most of all, I need the day with Trin to clean up the mess I made last night.

I lost my fucking temper. The afternoon left me shaken, worry, frustration, and the inability to protect Trin all piled on top, and the result had been an ugly scene we didn’t get to resolve. Trin headed upstairs shortly after Tuck and Vic brought dinner home, and when I finally crawled into bed all I could do was watch her battered and bruised face sleep while I stewed half the night.

I just hope a day is going to be enough to tackle it all.

Swinging my legs out of bed I head for the shower.

Ten minutes later, I find Trin curled up on the couch, wearing the shirt I had on yesterday and watching a muted morning show on TV. I’m taking it as a good sign.

“Morning.”

I walk over and kiss the top of her head.

“There’s coffee in the pot,” she answers without turning around.

“Need a refill?”

“No.”

Okay, maybe not quite that good.

I may need the caffeine reinforcement to navigate my way through the minefield I’m about to traverse, so I head for the kitchen first. Armed with a cup of liquid reinforcement, I take a seat next to her on the couch and pull her feet from under her and lift them on my lap.

“Tuck off to school okay?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes stay locked on the silenced television screen.

I rub my thumb over the soft skin on the top of her foot and glance at her profile. Time to get this over with.

“I’m sorry I lost it on you last night.”

She doesn’t move. If not for the slight flare of her nostrils and the tightening of her lips, I’d question if she even heard me.

I lean over to put my coffee on the table before shifting in my seat to fully face her.

“Since Anika got knocked to the ground by Bradley Hopkins on her first day of school, I’ve never felt this protective of anyone. I guess I’ve never cared enough.”

I watch her gaze drop down to the hands in her lap. I’m not sure if what I’m saying is getting through, but I push on.

“I’m not excusing anything; I just want you to know where I was at. Where I am at, which is frustrated, worried, and angry. It’s my job to help people—rescue them, make them safe—yet when it comes to you, I feel powerless. The one person who’s become most important to me, and I can’t seem to protect you.”

Finally she looks at me. Those pale blue eyes swimming with emotions as she scans mine.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

“I know,” she says, lifting her hand to my face. “As am I. Our first fight.”

“Yeah.”

I take her hand and sandwich it between mine.

“I guess ours isn’t exactly the most conventional start of a relationship with every day bringing new outside drama.”

“No fucking kidding,” I mutter.

“But I’m not gonna lie, Bodhi,” she says firmly. “My work is important to me. It’s part of me as much as being a firefighter is part of you. Both our jobs come with some risks, we’re gonna have to trust each other. Although I’ll admit, considering the circumstances I probably should’ve brought some backup to that football game.”

I lift her hand, kiss her palm, and press it over my heart.

“We’ve got a lot of things going on—a lot of distractions, complications—but promise me no matter what shit hits the fan during the day, we don’t go to bed angry.”

“Bodhi…” Her face softens as she whispers my name.

“Life gets crazy, Beautiful, but if we can end the day secure in each other’s arms, we can take the rest of it on the chin.”

She lifts her face and I slip my hand in her hair, curling my fingers around the strands as I dip down to kiss her gently. When I finally lift my head and look in her eyes, I seize the moment.

“Not sure when it happened, but somehow in the middle of this chaos, I managed to fall in love with you.”

No sooner have the words left my mouth when the doorbell rings. Of course.

* * *

“We’ve had a few developments since last night,” VanDyken shares as he takes the same seat he claimed last night.

“First of all, I tried to get hold of Hawkins, but he’s out of town for a conference, according to his wife. So then I paid a visit to Jacob Kendrick to see if I could rattle his earlier claim of a random accident. I bluffed a bit and let him think someone noticed him watching you at the game. He didn’t deny it, but said he recognized you from the Pickled Egg.”

“The Pickled Egg?” I echo.

“Yeah, how’s that for coincidence, right? The kid works part time in the kitchen.”

“Wait a minute,” Trin pipes up beside me. “Bodhi’s sister mentioned the other day Cherry worked there part time as well.”

“I know,” Jay confirms. “After my talk with Jacob last night, I pulled the evidence from the fire scene. I found her name when I started flipping through the personnel files.”

“Wait,” I interrupt. “It’s officially an arson case now?”

“Actually, arson and murder,” Jay corrects. “Unfortunately, Hank Anderson died yesterday. I don’t like coincidences and the name of that restaurant keeps coming up.”

I remember seeing JD Hawkins there with a woman—his wife maybe—a while back. Not necessarily out of the ordinary since a lot of people frequent the place, but given the circumstances I mention it.

“Good to know, although not exactly evidence of anything other than he had good taste in food.”

“Okay, so you think what happened at the Pickled Egg is connected somehow to Cherry’s murder?” Trin wonders.

“Like I said, I don’t believe in coincidences.”

I can almost see Trin’s proverbial wheels spinning.

“What if Mr. Anderson knew something about Cherry’s murder?” she speculates. “What if he saw something and when Cherry’s body was found, Hawkins was worried he’d remember?”

“I guess it’s possible,” VanDyken concedes. “We don’t have much to substantiate that theory, though. Nor do we have any evidence Hawkins had anything to do with Cherry’s murder, the fire, or with the threats and attacks on you. All we have is suspicions.”

“Have you talked to Marianne Anderson?”

Jay fixes his eyes on me.

“That’s gonna be my next stop. Ramirez, one of my colleagues,” he adds for Trin’s sake, “tried to get hold of her yesterday without any luck.”

“We saw Jeannie—the daughter—on our way out of the hospital yesterday afternoon,” Trin offers. “She mentioned her mother was resting at home and she had to go tell her about her dad dying.”

“I’ll try to talk to them both this morning,” the detective says, standing up and facing Trin. “I have to ask you, for your own safety and the sake of this investigation, not to poke around until we have a bead on who’s behind this.”

Trin’s lips set in a stubborn line, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Look, I appreciate what you’ve done so far, but please let us take over from here. I promise to pass on whatever I find out so you can still write your story.”

I’m trying hard not to put my two cents’ worth in when she glances over at me and sighs.

“Fine. I won’t poke around.”

* * *

Trin

I didn’t promise not to talk about it, which is exactly what I plan to do when Hayden gets here.

We’re on our way to the airport in Bodhi’s truck to pick her up. I’d hoped to spend some girl time with her, catch up in the car, but that will have to wait.

Bodhi is cruising the parking lot, looking for a space, when I spot her coming out of the terminal. Her auburn curls a dead giveaway.

“There she is. Drive to the front.”

Rolling my window down, I stick my arm out and holler her name. Her eyes find me and a wide grin spreads, but when we get closer it falls right off her face.

“What the fuck happened to you?” she barks, as the truck is rolling to a stop.

Then her eyes snap to poor Bodhi, behind the wheel.

“Car accident,” I quickly intervene. “Yesterday. Which is why Bodhi is driving.”

I hop out of the truck and fold her in a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re the firefighter,” she says when Bodhi comes around the front of the truck to greet her.

“I am. And you’re the sheriff’s deputy,” he fires back with a grin.

“Guilty.” She lets go of me and shakes Bodhi’s hand. “And for the record, I’m happy Trin was quick to explain the state of her face because I was about to pull on you.”

“No happier than me,” he comments before grabbing the carry-on suitcase at Hayden’s feet.

On the drive back Hayden grills me about the accident, which leads to a discussion of the threats I hadn’t exactly filled her in about. That, in turn, guides the conversation to the investigation, which she is very interested in.

When we get home, I show Hayden the study while Bodhi offers to fetch a few things for tomorrow as well as something for lunch.

“Any special requests?” he asks when I walk him to the door. “Anything other than what’s on your list need to be picked up for tomorrow? Balloons? Gifts”

I snort. “No. Tuck would disown me if I got him balloons, and I already got his gift earlier this week.”

He places his hands on either side of my neck and with his thumbs tilts my chin up.

“Sure you’ll be all right? I need you to lock the door behind me.”

I grab onto his wrists and grin at him.

“Honey, she’s badass and she’s got a gun,” I remind him. “But thanks, I love you for looking after me.”

His head dips low and his eyes darken.

“Say that again.”

His growly voice charges the atmosphere around us.

“Thank you for looking after me?”

He gently shakes me. “That’s not the part I’m interested in and you know it.”

I bridge the few inches between us and kiss him soundly before stepping out of his reach.

“I should get back to our guest,” I tease, knowing full well what he wants to hear.

Laugh lines appear by his eyes as he shakes his head slowly. Then he reaches for the door and glances back at me.

“Chicken.”

I snicker at his challenge and can’t resist provoking him again.

“Yes. Perfect choice for lunch.”

He’s laughing as he walks out the door. I throw the lock and lean my forehead against the cool surface.

“Got yourself a hot one,” Hayden says behind me, and I turn to find her fanning her face, grinning.

“Behave, you’re happily married.”

“Doesn’t hamper my vision,” she deadpans. “Now, direct me to the nearest coffee machine and give me all the details.”

I don’t give her all the details, but tell her enough about Bodhi to have her swooning. The next hour or so we catch up on everything and everyone. Then she steers the conversation back to the case.

“So basically these are three different cases you think are connected?” she asks. “The murder of the girl in the river, the threats and attacks on you, and a restaurant fire?”

“Call it a hunch, but I can’t prove it.”

She digs through her purse and surfaces with a notepad and a pen.

“From the start,” she orders.

I talk her through every detail and she makes a timeline with bullet notes. Then she rips the pages out of her book, lays them side by side on the counter, and studies them closely.

“I get where you got your theory from, but I have one problem with it,” she finally says.

“Which is?”

“Someone tossed a rock through the window of your car on a Sunday night, right?” I nod, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night. “But JD Hawkins didn’t know of your existence until you chased him down on the Friday after the rock incident. It doesn’t fit.”

“So maybe the two notes were meant for Tucker after all. Some kids from his school. But you have to admit the near hit and run, as well as tampering with the brakes, has to be linked to Hawkins.”

“It looks like it, but you don’t get to the truth by forming a theory, and then start tossing out evidence because it doesn’t fit”

She’s right. Dammit, she’s right.

“I need a drink,” I announce just as Bodhi comes walking in, loaded down with bags.

“You’re in luck, I picked up some booze.”

He dumps the bags on the counter and bends down for a kiss.

“I picked up stuff for sandwiches for lunch and I thought I’d make butter chicken for dinner. You guys up for that?”

“I’m all about the chicken,” I share, making Bodhi chuckle.

“He cooks too?” Hayden addresses me.

“Better than me,” I admit. “Up for a little Indian heat?”

Hayden grins wide. “Hell, yes.”

Poor Bodhi looks a mite uncomfortable.

“And that’s my cue to get the rest of the stuff out of the truck,” he announces, stalking out of the kitchen.