Cold Dark Heart by Julie Kriss

Twenty-Seven

Andie

“Arrested?”I shouted into the phone. “Damon has been arrested?”

“Not arrested,” my father said. “Detained for questioning.”

I looked at the clock over the stove. It was seven a.m.; Damon had left for the Wild just before four, vowing he would call me as soon as he knew what was going on.

I’d sat in a tortured suspense until he’d finally sent me only a brief text: Someone broke into the storeroom. There were drugs in the Sheffer whiskey crates. I have to explain to the cops.

I’d tried calling, but he hadn’t answered. So, in a panic, I had done the only thing I could think of: I called Dad.

Now Dad was filling me in, based on what his fellow cops had told him. Miles was with the rest of the group, getting ready for a canoe outing, and Dad was calling me from the lodge, the only place at the lake with reliable cell phone reception.

“That’s crazy,” I said. “Damon isn’t the one who broke in to the Wild. Why are they questioning him? And why has he been there for three hours?”

“Andie. How well do you know this guy?”

How to answer that one? I know what his skin tastes like. I know how his hands grip me while I come. “He’s worked for me for weeks,” I said instead to my dad. “You did a background check on him yourself before I hired him. Remember?”

“Yeah, but how well do you know him? And—wait a minute. How do you know he wasn’t the one who did the break-in?”

Busted.Damon had been in bed with me. I couldn’t think of a good enough lie, and my dad, with his dad instincts, was much faster than I was.

“You’re involved with him?” He sounded almost disgusted. “Jesus, Andie. I swear I don’t know what to do with you.”

“You don’t have to do anything with me,” I shouted into the phone. “I’m thirty-five. I can see who I want. And you’ll have to get used to it, because Damon and I are dating.”

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious?” Dad shot back. “This guy shows up out of nowhere, looking for a job. You hire him. He romances you somehow, blinds you. Suddenly there’s heroin being kept in the storeroom. It hasn’t crossed your mind that this guy is using you?”

“To traffic drugs? He was DEA!”

“Andie.” Now he had his condescending cop’s voice, the one that said You know nothing. “Who else would know more about how to traffic drugs without getting caught than the DEA?”

I was silent for a long moment. Static crackled over the line.

“I’m glad you’re finally listening to me,” Dad said. “Try to use some sense. The Salt Springs PD know what they’re doing. There could be a situation, with this guy trafficking drugs through the Wild and someone else stealing them. It could be a turf war.”

I closed my eyes. “What do you recommend I do?”

“Cooperate. The cops will probably knock on your door within the next half hour, wanting to question you. Answer honestly, and tell them everything. Don’t try and save your boyfriend. If he’s dirty, he’s dirty.”

“Fine,” I said. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Miles and I will be home tomorrow around dinnertime.”

After we hung up, I put the phone down. For the first time in my life, I was completely confident. I was facing the truth head-on instead of hiding from it. I was ready to solve a problem instead of pretending it didn’t exist.

The first thing I knew was that Damon wasn’t trafficking heroin through my bar.

But I knew who was.

It was like Dad said: Who else would know more about how to traffic drugs without getting caught than the DEA?

The answer was so obvious it stared me in the face.

Terry.