Resolute Aim, page 16
When she was in position, he said, “Okay, that’s just a piece of paper, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s just a piece of paper.”
“It’s a piece of paper that you can’t hurt and it can’t hurt you, so just shoot it.”
Holding the gun in front of her, she aimed at the center of the target. Her hands trembled and her chest started to tighten. She placed a finger on the trigger and pulled.
Noah hauled her in for a bear hug. “Did I hit it?” Bree asked, still shaking.
“It doesn’t matter. You shot your gun, and that’s the only thing that does. Come on, let’s take a break and have something to eat.”
After spreading out a blanket for the picnic lunch Noah had brought, they ate and relaxed for a while, soaking in the sunshine amid a comfortable silence. Then they started another round of practice, continuing until Bree began to shake from the mental and physical exertion.
“Why don’t we call it quits for today?” Noah said. “You must be exhausted.”
“But I haven’t even tried the course. If I quit now, I’ll never make it through within a week.” Her voice rose in panic.
“Let’s set aside the time frame for now. You’re making progress.” He took her by the hand and led her to the blanket. “I’ve got some beers in the cooler. Want one?”
Bree collapsed into a sitting position. “That sounds good.”
Bringing over two cold bottles, Noah sat beside her. “Here’s to a day well spent.”
“I’ll drink to that.” She’d been running on adrenaline, her emotions a roller coaster for most of the day. The icy liquid slid down her parched throat, instantly relaxing her. She leaned against Noah, and somehow the bottle disappeared from her hand and then he was kissing her. He held her, like he’d held her all day—supporting her, helping her overcome the biggest obstacle she’d ever faced. He cared enough to help make her whole again.
“I’m feeling a little more confident about my gun,” she said when their lips finally separated. “But I can’t quite put the moves together yet. Each thing is a separate, teeny, tiny step.” She traced his lower lip with her finger. “Just like our first kiss.”
* * *
WITH HIS ARM around her shoulders Bree lay back on the blanket, bringing him with her. He propped himself on one elbow and studied her face as if memorizing it. She would normally blush under such intense scrutiny, drop her gaze or look away. Instead, she reveled in being seen by Noah. She placed her palm against his cheek, shivering as her fingertips slid across its raspy stubble.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, her throat, and she arched her neck, lost in desire. He fumbled with the buttons on her shirt with one hand, his lips never leaving her skin.
Threading her fingers through his hair, she gasped when her shirt began to fall open and his kisses followed his fingers all the way down to her belt buckle.
As the late afternoon’s cooling air grazed the burning trail, she shivered. From the sensation. From anticipation.
Too impatient to wait any longer, Bree sat up, tugging her shirt free from her jeans. Noah gave her a knowing smile while her arms slipped from the sleeves and her bra followed. Then his smile vanished, replaced with an expression she’d never seen from him before and which made her shiver, her already hard nipples turning almost painful under the weight of his perusal.
But his gaze wasn’t enough. She wanted his hands on her. On all of her. After pulling off her boots she stood and unbuckled her belt, meeting his eyes the entire time. Noah rose and toed off his own boots, then paused to watch her unzip her jeans, push them down her legs and step out of them.
In just her panties, she took one step closer and stopped inches in front of him. Her need to touch his body overrode all else and she pulled the hem of his T-shirt up. He took it from her hands and tugged it over his head, then tossed it on the blanket.
Where it fell, Bree didn’t know or care. She was too laser-focused on Noah’s well-defined chest and chiseled six-pack. Not overly bulked-up. Just toned and muscular. She licked her lips, reaching out with her fingertips to explore. As her hands moved lower he sucked in a loud breath, then released it on a shaky one. She inhaled the scent of his soap mixed with clean sweat and fresh air, growing lightheaded at the intoxicating combination.
With unsteady fingers she unbuckled his belt while searching his face for...what? A sign of regret for what he’d started?
But no. His warm brown eyes pulled her into their depths. He lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that told her he regretted nothing. Then he unbuttoned his jeans and by the time Bree tucked her thumbs into her panties and slid them to the ground, Noah stood naked, his desire for her obvious.
She dropped to her knees, taking him in her mouth, teasing him. He held on to her shoulders, his grip tightening when her lips and tongue moved faster. Just as he tensed, he pulled out of her mouth and eased her down on the blanket to return the favor.
As his tongue and fingers worked their magic on her, Bree grabbed fistfuls of the blanket and arched her back, moaning as she came. Sailing on an orgasm afterglow, the faint sound of crinkling plastic drifted to her. Then Noah was entering her. Filling her. Making her feel like she’d found her new home.
* * *
WITH EACH THRUST, Noah felt Bree tighten around him. She’d driven him crazy with her mouth, but he belonged inside of her. Belonged to her. He’d been searching for respect at work, but what he’d really been aching for was a place of acceptance, a connection to someone, a home for his heart. And he’d found all that in Bree.
She was clawing at his back, calling his name. And every expectation anyone ever had of him faded in the moment, his mind and heart solely fixed on satisfying this woman. His woman.
Noah hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and thrust even deeper, making Bree come again. The pull of her around him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, set off his own orgasm.
This time they drifted back to awareness together, serenaded by the sounds of nature, cloaked by the lowering sun that filtered through the trees. And later they lay wrapped in the blanket, snuggled together while exchanging lazy kisses and tidbits of their lives until long after the warmth of the day had dwindled.
Chapter Fourteen
When Bree’s alarm went off early Monday morning, she bounced out of bed, glad to be alive. What a difference a day—and Noah Reed—made.
She’d crawled into bed last night after a long, hot shower to soothe her aching muscles. She hadn’t made it through Hogan’s Alley a single time, but her anxiety and panic and adrenaline had left her body hurting. And then there were the good aches in other parts of her body. Those, she didn’t mind.
Driving to the Busy B, she caught sight of herself in her rearview mirror. She sucked in her cheeks to get rid of the permanent smile on her face. The one that would alert the whole world that she’d had sex, it had been good and she wanted more. But each time her cheeks popped back out, the smile reappeared.
The whole world will just have to be jealous.
And the whole world began with Marge the moment Bree walked in the door.
“Morning, my little peach.”
“Hi, Marge. How are you doing this morning?”
Marge peered at her and grinned. “Apparently, nowhere near as good as you are.” She winked at Bree. “You must have had a fine and dandy weekend.”
Trying not to care that her cheeks were burning, Bree shrugged. “It was okay.”
“Well, I have a feeling Noah’s weekend was okay, too, ’cause he’s waiting in the back booth for you with the same silly grin on his face.”
Her laugh followed Bree down the aisle. And Marge had been right. Noah sat with his back to the wall, watching her approach. And if her smile matched his smile, they’d be in big trouble at the morning briefing.
“Hi.” She slid into the seat across from him.
“Hi.” His eyes sparkled. “You look happy.”
“You don’t look so down in the dumps, yourself.” She laughed.
“Sleep well?” Noah opened his menu and scanned it.
“Best in months.” She dropped her gaze to her menu, cursing the butterflies in her stomach.
“Good morning, y’all.” Rachel filled Bree’s cup and topped off Noah’s. “Ready to order?”
They gave her their requests, and before she left, Rachel said, “Sorry I couldn’t go with you Saturday, Bree. Did you see anything you liked?”
Bree fought the urge to smirk when Noah did. “I did. A cute two-bedroom with a pink front door.”
“Great. I’m glad Seth could help. Did you sign the lease?”
“Not yet. I’ll do it later this week.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to move in. I’ll come over to help.” Rachel joined the smirk party. “And forget my kids there when I go home.”
After Rachel left, Noah gave Bree a curious look. “You’re renting a house?”
Bree nodded. “I looked at some Saturday. But I wasn’t sure I’d be staying in town, so I held off on the lease.”
“You’d leave Resolute if Cassie fired you?”
“I had no other reason to stay.” She sipped her coffee.
His right eye twitched, a quick movement she almost missed.
“I see.” He tapped one finger against his upper lip, a habit she was beginning to recognize.
“As of Saturday, I had no other reason to stay.” She dropped her gaze, then looked at him from beneath her lashes. “As of Sunday, I have a great reason to stay, whether I get fired or not.” But please, God, don’t let me get fired.
The look of relief on his face zapped her heart like a defibrillator.
By the time they finished breakfast, they had a game plan for the day. Bree read it back from her notebook.
“After the department meeting, we’ll get the forensics report on Sammy, assuming they’re done by now. Then talk to his friends, see what they know.”
“Or at least, what they’ll tell us, which will probably be nothing.” Noah leaned back in the booth.
She snapped her notebook closed. “Then maybe you should let me question his friends.”
“You think you can get more info out of them than I can?”
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” She winked at him. “Care to make it a wager?”
“Darn right I do.” His excitement was palpable. “If I win, you have to spend the night with me.”
“And if you lose, you have to spend the night with me.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Delgado.”
“As do you, Reed. As do you.”
* * *
AFTER THE MORNING MEETING, Noah went straight to his desk and checked his computer. “Still no forensics report on Sammy.”
“Then I guess it’s time to go find the boys and win a bet.” Bree gave him a teasing smile.
He shook his finger at her. “No fair flirting.”
She hooked her thumbs in her duty belt. “A deputy’s gotta do what a deputy’s gotta do.” She turned and sashayed out of the bullpen.
Noah grabbed his jacket and rushed after her. He’d probably lose the bet, so he might as well enjoy the sashaying.
They drove to Oak View Apartments first, hoping to catch the friend who was renting there. With only parents’ addresses for the other boys, they could easily waste the whole day running everyone down.
“This place is giving me definite déjà vu vibes.” Bree peeked in her notebook one last time and stuck it in her pocket. “Just follow my lead.” She got out of the vehicle and headed for the building.
She buzzed the manager to get in, like she had last time; and once again, it worked. She marched down the first-floor hall to apartment 116 and listened. “Voices. More than one here.” She knocked.
A male voice came through the door. “Who is it?”
“Boone County Deputies Reed and Delgado,” Noah answered.
“Hang on.”
They waited about a minute before Bree pounded on the door again.
“I’m coming.”
Locks disengaged, the door swung in and Noah stared at the new cook from the Busy B.
“Are you Lee Hayes?” Bree asked and waited for him to reluctantly nod. “Can we come in? We need to ask you a few questions.”
Hayes’s eyes ping-ponged between Noah and Bree. “What’s it about?”
“Sammy Jenkins.”
Hayes opened the door and let them come in. Three other men who looked to be in their early twenties were lounging on a couch and on the floor, playing a video game with the sound muted. Bree had each one identify himself.
Noah addressed them as a group. “Y’all know Sammy, right?” When they nodded in unison, he asked, “You heard what happened to him?”
A few mumbled responses, including from Hayes, indicated they had.
“We’re following a lead that he’s the one who broke into the high school.” Bree looked at each of them, one at a time. “Is that true?”
“Yeah, he told us he did it.” One of the guys on the floor spoke up. “Didn’t sound like he got anything worthwhile, though. Pretty stupid, if you ask me.”
“Why did he break in?” Noah asked.
“He never said.” The kid on the couch lifted a beer can from the wobbly end table and drank.
Noah looked to the two still sitting on the floor. “Did he break into other places? Was this a regular thing for him?”
The only one who’d yet to utter a word shook his head. “Had to be the first time or we would’ve heard about it.”
“Yeah. If he was proud of something, he always told us.” This from the couch potato. “Like working for his uncle. No one was supposed to know, but he trusted us. Said he was making good money.”
Hayes hadn’t said a word since letting them in.
Bree faced him directly. “You knew he broke in?” Another nod from Hayes. “What else do you know about him?”
He shrugged and developed a sudden interest in the carpet.
“How’s it working out at the Busy B?” Noah asked.
Hayes’s head snapped up. “How do you know I work there?”
“Saw you the other day. Marge said you take a lot of breaks.” Noah towered over him and used that to his advantage. “Marge is a good person. I hope she decides to keep you.”
“Hey, man. I really need that job.”
“That’s between you and her. I just don’t want to hear about you giving her any grief.”
Bree turned back to the others. “Does anyone else have any information that might help us find the person who killed Sammy?” No one made a peep. “We’re not interested in getting y’all in trouble. We just want justice for your friend.”
“Thank you for speaking with us, Lee. If you think of anything else, call us.” Noah gave him a card on their way out the door. “Anything.”
* * *
“I CAN’T FOR the life of me figure out why anyone would kill Sammy.” Back in the bullpen, Bree pulled the extra chair up to Noah’s desk but paced around it instead of sitting. “Do you think it had anything to do with the break-in?”
Signing in on his computer, he shrugged. “Seems unlikely, since nothing that valuable was taken.”
“That we know of.” Bree stopped moving. “We never finished that discussion about how maybe something wasn’t included on the list of stolen items.”
Noah gave her a doubtful look. “If something was worth killing him for, why wasn’t it worth reporting?”
Bree snapped her fingers. “What if it was something illegal?”
Again with the skeptical looks. “Like maybe a stolen piece of art, hanging on a teacher’s wall?” He snorted and went back to his computer.
Bree sat and pondered the feasibility of her idea while Noah continued to tap on his computer keyboard.
“Finally!” He pumped his fist. “We’ve got the forensics on Sammy.” He scanned his monitor for a moment, then read the information out loud.
“We already knew he was asphyxiated. But the autopsy indicates repeated strangulation attempts with a narrow piece of cloth. Hair and fiber’s not back yet, but the marks and bruises are similar to those made by a man’s tie.” He skimmed parts of it further. “The repeated strangulation indicates the possibility of torture. Cutting off the air supply until the victim is almost dead, then releasing the pressure, reviving the vic and repeating.”
“Maybe the killer wanted an answer and Sammy wouldn’t tell him.” Bree twisted a curl around her finger. “The fact that he was strangled instead of shot or stabbed makes it more personal.”
“Could be the killer didn’t have another weapon. Had to make do with what he had.”
Bree nodded. “Or he didn’t want to get bloody. Hard to explain to the family when you get home.”
Reading more of the report, Noah said, “Holy sh... Listen to this. They found traces of meth on Sammy. Not like he used but was exposed to it. They found it on his fingers and inside his mouth.”
“Maybe it got on his hand, then he touched a finger to his tongue. Like he wanted to taste it?” Bree pulled her notebook from her pocket. “Does it say if the meth contributed to his death?”
Noah ran his finger across his monitor screen, reading under his breath. “No. The report indicates it was diluted, so probably liquid meth.”
Bree tapped her lip, then realized she was copying Noah’s quirk and stopped. “Curiouser and curiouser.”
Noah logged off and stood. “Do you have the phone number of Sammy’s friend, Lee Hayes? The guy who works at the diner?”
