Hot Water (7 page)

The kiss ended, but they stood together, holding tight. She wasn’t sure she could stand unsupported. Her legs felt all bendy and swoopy. How about that? She’d never experienced anything like Wyatt North before, and darn if she didn’t want more.

“That was amazing,” she whispered against the side of his neck.

“You’re amazing.” His hands traced little circles on the small of her back.

“Ummm,” she sighed. “That feels nice. You sure you want to start something with me?”

“I’m sure.”

“It will be complicated.”

“I do complicated. Got a few complications myself.”

Instead of reassuring her, his words alarmed her. She arched away from him. “Are you secretly married? Are you seeing someone?”

“No and no. I was talking about the job. I travel a lot. And my family. They’re very nosy.”

“They care about you.”

“Easy for you to say.”

His nearness excited her, but she had enough presence of mind to realize anyone could walk down the shoreline and see them kissing. With reluctance, she stepped away from him. “We really should be getting back.”

“As long as we have an understanding.”

“Oh?”

“I want a chance to get to know you on a personal level, Dinterman.”

“Laurie Ann. After that kiss, we’re definitely on a first name basis when we’re off-duty. Work has to be separate.”

“Agreed. Kiss to seal our bargain?”

She nodded, intending to brush lips with him, but he had other ideas. He drew her into his arms. Her entire body tingled and sparked with energy as her senses fired true. It seemed they’d been malfunctioning for years, but now she felt everything keenly.

The heat.

The ache.

The steam.

The burning inside.

Mercy.

Chapter 12

“Laurie Ann! Laurie Ann!”

Gradually, it dawned on Wyatt that someone was calling for the siren in his arms. He ended their kiss with regret. He’d wanted to make an impression on Laurie Ann, but now she was shoving hard against his chest, forcing him to let her go. The idea went against his very instincts. This woman intrigued him, and he wanted to explore every inch of her lithe, lovely body.

“Come on,” she said, taking off at a fast clip down the creekside path.

He sprinted after her. “What is it?”

“Don’t know yet, but my guess is trouble.”

She was right. A little girl was missing. Taylor Sutton. The kid with all the colored barrettes in her dark hair, and the shiny shoes that flashed pink light when she bounced across the lawn.

“She was right here,” Cassie Sutton said. Tears flowed down her pale cheeks. “I got up to toss our plates in the trash, and she was playing in the sandbox. When I walked back, she was gone. I’ve looked and looked. I can’t find her.”

“Okay. Got it. First, let’s sit you down.” Laurie Ann waved her friend Roxie over. “Stay with Cassie.”

As he listened, Laurie Ann organized search teams, sent them out in a grid pattern, and called the 911 operator to report the missing three-year-old. “What can I do?” he asked when she paused to take a breath.

“Help me check the parking lot. I need to make sure she’s not hiding there.”

“Let’s go.” He took her hand, and they sprinted for the grassy lot.

He heard other people shouting the child’s name down by the creek and over by the woods. A thick knot of seniors buzzed around the picnic tables consoling the distraught mother.

They went methodically through the vehicles, even studying the locked ones to make sure Taylor Sutton hadn’t gotten inside and locked the doors. The child wasn’t there.

“What now?” he asked when they ran out of vehicles and parking lot.

“We go back to where it started. The sandbox.”

He extended his stride to match hers, his admiration for her growing each moment. Back at the sandbox, Laurie Ann sat with her legs crossed tailor-fashion.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“A lot of shoes and legs. I see under the tables. I see trashcans and the restroom building. I see the outdoor kitchen and the fire pit. I see the marsh and the woods. I don’t see Taylor.”

“Keep thinking out loud,” he encouraged when she fell silent.

“She could have wandered off in any direction. If she came down to the creek where we were, we didn’t notice. We didn’t hear a splash. Which means there’s a good chance she’s around here somewhere, only not in plain sight.”

“Could she be hiding? I’ve got a cousin that age, and he loves to hide.”

“Hiding. That’s a possibility. Where would she hide? We’ve checked the buildings and the cars.”

“Reggie likes to hide in tight places. Under upholstered chairs. Behind tables. In the cedar chest.”

“You’re a genius, North.” Laurie Ann vaulted to her feet. Sand flew as she sprinted toward the kitchen area. She flipped open the half dozen coolers by the buffet.

In the last one, a bright red job with big wheels and the lid slightly ajar, a small child lay curled in a tight ball. Unhurt. “I found her,” Laurie Ann shouted. She lifted the sleeping child out of the cooler.

Taylor jostled awake and started crying. Her mother ran over, crying even louder. Sirens wailed on the approach road.

Laurie Ann handed the child to Cassie Sutton. “Thank you for finding her,” Cassie said. “I was so worried. I couldn’t stop praying for her.”

“She’s safe and sound,” Laurie Ann said. “This is a good day.”

“I forgot all about her new interest in hide and seek. She must have followed me over to the trashcan. I didn’t notice her behind me, but I should have noticed. A good mom would have noticed.”

“You are a good mom. You sounded the alarm as soon as she went missing.”

Wyatt felt pride at how Laurie Ann’s composure held during the crisis. No wonder she was up for promotion. The locals were lucky to have her watching over them.

When the sheriff’s deputies arrived a few minutes later, she briefed them on what happened. One of the men scrunched up his face at Wyatt. “And you are?” Deputy Jink Smith asked.

“Wyatt North. Her associate.”

Smith scowled at him. “Find yourself an iced tea and a senior to chat up for a few minutes.”

Jink Smith was everything he wasn’t. Blond. Wiry. Tanned. Comfortable in his surroundings. Chances were high he didn’t have burn scars disfiguring his body. He probably hunted and fished, too. Wyatt hated him on sight.

“That’s a good idea, Wyatt. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes,” Laurie Ann said, her face animated.

“Okay.” Not the outcome he’d hoped for, but he understood work came first.

“You thinking about moving down here?” Sloan Harding asked when he sat down at their table.

“I’m thinking about catching a serial arsonist.”

Harding laughed. “For an expert, you’re not too swift. I’d say you’re thinking about catching the cutest female cop for miles around.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“You two have moved in lockstep since you arrived. I thought you only hit town yesterday.”

“I did.”

“You sure move fast.”

He couldn’t see Laurie Ann’s face from here, only her slim back. Jink Smith appeared to be hanging on her every word. “I didn’t intend to move anything. She’s nice, that’s all.”

“She’s a lot more than that. None of us have ever seen her this interested in a man. I’d begun to wonder if she was interested in women, but you blew that theory out of the water. Where’s this going?”

“Does it have to be going anywhere? It is what it is, something brand new for both of us. Right now we’re living in the moment.”

“Let me be the first to say that’s not good enough. Laurie Ann is the heart of this community. She’s helped everyone here in some way. Though she looks tough in her cop clothes and dark glasses, she’s a small town girl wearing her heart on her sleeve. I’ll turn my entire security team loose on you if you hurt her.”

“Your fiancée make you say that?”

“She did, and if you laugh, I’ll have to hit you.”

Wyatt shook his head. “You’re so whipped. I’ll never let a woman do that to me.”

Harding laughed until the entire table shook with it. “I used to be you. Then I met Roxie, and everything changed. I’m going to remind you of this conversation someday soon.”

He ignored Harding because Laurie Ann was walking toward him with purpose. “All done?” he asked.

She handed him her set of keys. “The sheriff wants to see me at the law enforcement center. I’ll catch a ride to the hotel later to pick up my car.”

“Sounds good.” The keys were warm from being in her pocket. His fingers closed tightly around the heated metal.

Laurie Ann nodded, hurried back to the deputies, and hopped into Smith’s SUV.

After she left, Roxie tried to grill Wyatt about his family, but he’d grown up with sisters and was wise to her ways. He distracted her with a change in subject. “Who used to get in trouble setting fires as a kid?”

“I know one person who set fires as a kid, but I hesitate to mention his name,” Roxie said. “He’s grown up now, and we don’t have a fire problem.”

“Except for the Pirate’s Cove fire.”

Roxie appeared to consider that point. “What about the new owners? The restaurant was my listing, and I met Glen and Ellie Foxworth when they walked through the property. They didn’t like the window position, didn’t like the kitchen setup, didn’t like the style of building. They lowballed my clients, but my folks took their crappy offer because they were desperate. Y’all check them out?”

“You think the new owners hired my serial arsonist to gut their property?”

“What are the odds, right? How would a Jacksonville couple even know your guy?”

“I don’t know the motive for this arson. Insurance fraud seems a stretch.” He studied Roxie again. Harding was a lucky man to have a woman like her. “Tell me about the kid who played with matches. Who is he? Is he still in the area?”

“I’d rather not say,” Roxie said, zipping her mouth shut.

Wyatt leaned forward. “This could be important to my investigation.”

Roxie shook her head.

Harding stiffened. “I know who she’s talking about. You do not want to go down this road, bro.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Harding sighed. “Our local jack of all trades. Lester Church. Laurie Ann’s cousin.”

Chapter 13

Laurie Ann sat down in Sheriff Gator Parnell’s spacious office. Questions tangled in her head, but she presented a calm appearance. This wasn’t the time or place to call attention to her nerves. Not with a promotion in her future.

The county law enforcement center was much newer than the city police digs. The furniture looked like it had actually been made this century. Even better, the computer monitors weren’t the size of azalea bushes.

“Good job on finding that lost kid,” the sheriff said.

“Thanks.”

“You’ve got good instincts, Dinterman. After you become an investigator, I’m hoping to hire you on out here.”

“I appreciate that, sir. Tidewater County is my home. I prefer to work here.”

He nodded, started to speak, apparently thought the better of it, and tried a new tack. “Chief Tyler and I agreed you’d be the right person to solve the death of James Brown. But with him dying of smoke inhalation, it isn’t the open and shut case we envisioned. How’s your investigation coming?”

Keeping track of Wyatt North had stalled her investigation. “I don’t have any new leads, sir. I don’t know what Brown was doing in the old restaurant. I’m open to suggestions.”

“Brown associated with two other bottom feeders, Ray Spivey and Frankie Miles. I’ll get you their contact information before you leave. Maybe Spivey or Miles can fill you in on Brown’s last days. Brown didn’t own a cell phone or have a bank account, so there are no phone or financial records to check. With no fixed address and no family, you had few leads to start with. How’s the arson investigation coming along?”

“Slow. North believes our fire was set by his serial arsonist. He’s sent off samples and he’s nosing around, asking questions.”

“Stick close to him. He may turn up a lead that will help us figure out what Brown was doing out there.”

“That’s my plan, sir.”

“Are the property owners coming to view the damage firsthand?”

Darn. She’d forgotten about the new owners. How red was her face? “Uncle Buford contacted the Foxworths, but I haven’t followed up with them. I’ll get right on that.”

“You’ll do all right, Dinterman. I know your dad’s awful proud of you. Pete showed me the ropes when I was new, and I’ve never forgotten his kindness. You keep your nose to the ground, and you’ll have my job before you know it.”

The sheriff thought she was gunning for his job? This was her worst nightmare. She worked to release the tension in her jaw. “My goal is to make investigator, sir. Beyond that, I can’t say what the future will bring. I enjoy my work, but I have a lot to learn.”

He nodded and turned to his computer. She sat in the upright wooden chair, knowing she hadn’t been dismissed but knowing the sheriff was a stickler for protocol. If she stood or fidgeted, she’d call unwanted attention to herself. She waited.

A printer whirred to life, shooting out two pages. The sheriff handed them to her. “Here are the sheets on Spivey and Miles. Both have been employed by half the county doing odd jobs; both have been in and out of jail. Buy them a meal when you run them down, and they’ll tell you everything they know.”

That sounded like a dismissal. She rose, papers in hand. “Thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate your help.”

He levered himself up on his feet. “Deputy Ballard will give you a lift. Holler if you need anything else.”

She hadn’t hollered since she was three, but she smiled her thanks and stepped into the hall. Ballard hurried to meet her. “Ready when you are,” he said with a smile.

The deputy was ten years older than she with a padded waistline courtesy of the all-you-can eat lunch buffet at Sheryl’s Dinner. His pleasant smile could charm a woman, but she’d seen him take down a bad guy with force. In short, he was exactly what she aspired to be, in the female context, of course.

“You seen Ray Spivey or Frankie Miles lately?” she asked.