Whispers On The Wind, page 12
“You’ll still make me a chocolate cake tomorrow, right? Even if I don’t watch your movie?”
She nestled against him. “Yes, I’ll make you a cake. The remote is on the coffee table. Put it wherever you want.”
The screeching woman was gone and two pretty girls were discussing some wealthy bachelor their father went to see…or planned to see…or something. Nothing he couldn’t handle.
“If this gets me brownie points, I’m in for the duration.” He put his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, and relaxed against the back of the couch, with Sam nestled beside him.
“So,” asked Coop, “what’s your favorite color?”
Distracted by the spicy mixture of sandalwood and cardamom emanating from him, Sam took a moment to reply. “Purple.”
“Favorite food?”
“Mexican.”
He angled his face toward her, dark brows slanted in a frown. “This is really important. Can you Two-step?”
It was difficult to remain serious as she matched his grave expression. “It’s been a while, but, yes. And Schottische and waltz, too.”
He grinned like Cheshire cat as he relaxed against the couch again. “Good. Favorite hobby, other than photography?”
“How did you know I liked photography?”
“You told me so at the first crime scene.”
Thoughts of the dead woman caused her throat to tighten with sorrow and she ducked her head.
Coop jostled her shoulder. “No sadness, Sam, not tonight.” He paused. “Hobby?”
“…Baking. My turn. Favorite color?”
“Your eyes.”
“Um…okay. Favorite food?”
“Steak. And chocolate cake. Not necessarily together.”
“Favorite hobby?”
“Fishing.”
“I saw some folks fishing at the lake the other day. Thought I might invest in some gear and give it a try.”
“I have more than you’ll ever need in the shed out back. Maybe we’ll go drown a worm tomorrow for another practice date.”
She snickered. “Drown a worm?”
“Just another way to say go fishing.”
“Ah. Let’s see…favorite sound?”
“Your laughter.”
“Favorite smell?”
“Your shampoo.”
She pushed back and looked at him. “Am I detecting a pattern here?”
“I hope so.”
His sensual voice dropped an octave and gooseflesh peppered her arms. When his head bent down, her heart did a little flip-flop.
The chirp of a cell phone stopped his motion. “Hold that thought,” he whispered as he pulled the phone from his pocket. “Delaney. Damn. When does he come on duty? No, you’ve done enough. Go home, get some rest. I’ll go out there tomorrow and talk to him. And Jimmy? Good job.” He jammed the phone back in his pocket.
“Bad news?”
“We still need to talk to the bartender on duty Sunday night, but he called in sick again. The other one is out of town until tomorrow night.” He pulled her in his arms. “Where were we?”
“We were discussing a pattern.”
“I thought we were doing this,” he murmured.
His lips were surprisingly gentle, yet sent the pit of her stomach in a wild spin. Each time their lips touched, she experienced a new sensation as her emotions whirled and skidded, the gentle massage sending currents of desire through her.
When he broke contact, her senses reeled as if short-circuited.
His voice oozed an underlying sensuality. “We’re missing your movie.”
“It’s overrated.”
“I promised to watch it with you, and so I shall.”
Time went unnoticed as they absently watched the movie and talked about whatever topic came up.
He told her of Jason’s impending marriage, the job offer in Houston, and his mixed feelings about it.
She told him about her life-long desire to be a doctor, and of growing up the only girl in her family.
They skimmed over the especially hard pieces of their past to focus on who they were today. And, snuggled together on the couch, movie all but forgotten, they discovered the past wasn’t important at all. The here and now mattered most.
As the final credits began to roll, she heard Coop’s light snores and debated waking him. Since she liked cuddling, she opted to indulge herself a little longer.
Sunlight streaming through the front window coupled with the smell of bacon frying and coffee, woke her the next morning.
She jerked upright, startling Coop, who struggled to sit up, reaching for something on the end table, nearly dumping her to the floor.
He pulled her on top of him as Jason walked in.
“Morning, sleepy-heads.” He sauntered into the room, a cup of coffee in each hand.
“We fell asleep watching a movie.” Sam stammered like a teenager caught necking by her parents. She glanced at the darkened screen, then back to Coop.
“I didn’t turn it off,” he said around a prolonged yawn.
“I did.” Jason passed steaming mugs to them. “Y’all were out like a light. Never even budged when I threw the afghan over you.” His eyes sparkled with humor. “Though I doubt either of you were very cold.”
He headed back toward the kitchen. “Breakfast in ten minutes.”
Sam ducked her head. “Oh, my God. What on earth must he think of me? Pawing you on the front porch, and now this.”
Coop took a cautious sip from the cup. “He likes you.”
“I was spread over you like a blanket!”
“I didn’t properly thank you for it, either.”
“This isn’t funny. He’s your son, and he saw us…like that.”
“We were fully clothed and sound asleep.” He took another sip from his cup. “It’s not like we were having wild monkey-sex or anything.”
Her mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.
“I’m sorry if it embarrassed you, Sam, but the fact is, we’re adults. Adults cuddle on the couch, and fall asleep together, and, hopefully, eventually, have wild monkey-sex.”
She blinked several times in rapid succession, the images those words provoked robbing her of speech.
The gentle pressure of his hand on her knee brought reality back.
“We have a connection, Sam. Something special.” He regarded her carefully. “Or am I the only one who feels it?” His whispered voice was cloaked in uncertainty.
She reached out and covered his hand with her own. “No. You’re not.”
He visibly relaxed, and set his cup on the end table. “Jason likes you, and he’s glad we’re together.” His mouth curled up in a sexy grin. “And he knows about the birds and the bees.” He pushed himself from the couch, and pulled her up. “Come on, I’m starved.”
“Eva!” Heat scorched her cheeks as she thought about her hostess. “I don’t want her…them to think I’m some kind of…of scarlet woman.”
“Scarlet woman?” Grey eyes crinkled at the corners. “You do know this is the twenty-first century, don’t you?”
“I really care what they think of me, Coop.”
He rubbed her arms. “I honestly think you’re making too much of this. We fell asleep together on the couch. Big deal. I won’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy it because I did.” He lightly fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. “I haven’t slept so sound in weeks. And I look forward to a time when we do more than sleep. But not on that lumpy couch.”
Her breath hitched and she gave his chest a playful tap. “You have a one-track mind.”
“Guilty as charged where you’re concerned.”
He led her toward the door.
“What do I say to them?”
“You say good morning and eat your breakfast.”
Sam followed behind, dreading the encounter.
“Good morning,” chirped Eva as they walked in, “breakfast is almost ready.”
Cheeks burning, Sam moved to her chair and sat down.
“Your cake brought fifty dollars at the auction,” said Eva. “Thank you so much for donating it.”
“Fifty dollars?” echoed Sam. “Really?”
“Yep. Highest one in fact.”
“Who on earth bought it?”
“James Puckett from the bank. He and Billy Ray duked it out, and James won. Though to be honest, I think Billy Ray egged him on to get the bid up.”
Coop snorted. “I’m sure he did. They’ve been competing against each other since high school.”
“I hope he thinks it’s worth the price he paid,” murmured Sam.
“Oh, he did. So did everyone else. In fact, it was all gone by the time he left.”
Sam couldn’t hide her surprise. “He paid for it, and gave it away?”
Eva shrugged as she placed biscuits and sausage on the table. “Most people did. Though I must say, yours got the most attention. I lost track of the people wanting the recipe.” She retrieved eggs from the stove. “If you don’t mind sharing it, I mean.”
“Of course not. I’d be glad to.”
“Wonderful. Just write it out, and I’ll make copies.”
“Now, I really want that cake,” said Coop as he filled his plate. “Can you bake it after we go fishing?”
“You fish, too?” asked Jason with a playful grin. “No wonder Dad’s in hog heaven.”
There was no use pretending he hadn’t seen them. Taking the old if-you-can’t-beat-them-join-them approach, she arched one brow and grinned as she plucked a biscuit from the pile. “I’m a woman of many and varied talents.”
He nodded at her and winked. “You go, girl.”
“I have work to do this afternoon, so we’re going after breakfast,” said Coop. “Wanna come along?”
“Another time,” said the young man. “I’m spending the day with Laurie and her folks.” He sat up straighter and cleared his throat as he slid his plate to the side, not looking at anyone.
Sam found his demeanor intriguing. Gone was the jovial, carefree young man who delighted in teasing her. This Jason fidgeted in his seat and toyed with his food. Thanks to her recent conversations with Coop, she suspected the reason why.
He looked at his father who gave a slight nod. “Um, Miss Eva, Sam. I, um, have an announcement.” The words ran together when he blurted out the news. “Laurie and me are getting married.”
Eva clapped her hands, then popped up and pulled him into a heartfelt hug. “How wonderful! Wonderful! About time, too.” She looked at Sam, face beaming with happiness. “We have a lot of work to do!”
“Congratulations, Jason,” said Sam. “I wish you both all the best.”
“Thanks. We haven’t told her parents yet. We’re springing the news tonight, but I wanted my family to know now.” His exuberant gaze took in the small group.
My family.
The lump in her throat made words impossible. She reached for Coop’s hand and squeezed.
His smile said it all.
Family.
He plucked a petal from the pale-pink rose and watched it float on the morning breeze. He loved roses. So beautiful to gaze upon, but possessed the ability to hurt if you weren’t careful. And he was always careful.
Eyes closed, he sniffed the fragrant bloom, recalling how it looked as he drew it across her creamy skin. She didn’t appreciate the symbolism of beauty and pain in one object and protested loudly when he pricked her with a thorn.
He grimaced. She did serve a purpose, though, and quenched a thirst. Until she ruined everything and pissed him off. Bad move on her part.
Sam. Now there was a woman who inspired. She possessed such fire, and a passion he craved from their first encounter. But, he must be patient and wait for the perfect time. Anticipation made the event so much more enjoyable.
He pulled another petal and watched it fall.
Monday morning
Coop sat at his desk, mood upbeat despite the lack of leads in two murder investigations. The interview with one of the bartenders provided nothing helpful. He claimed he was so busy last Sunday, he wouldn’t know if his own mother walked in. They had yet to talk to the one who left ill last Sunday.
Coop spoke to most of the patrons on hand that night with similar results.
Still, he remained in a decent mood. Because of Sam. Their second practice date, fishing at Baker Lake yesterday morning, was a definite success. She hadn’t fished since childhood and listened attentively to his instructions. She didn’t shy away from baiting her own hooks or removing fish. She possessed an off-beat brand of humor that sometimes caught him off guard, but never failed to make him laugh. How strange to discover at this point in life he really liked to laugh.
He switched on his computer and pulled his notes together while it booted up.
“We got an ID on the last vic, Sheriff.” The anxious deputy passed him a folder. “Peggy Wallace. Age thirty-three, a school teacher from Austin.”
Coop glanced at the driver’s license photo, and leaned forward. “I think I’ve seen her before.” Thick brows drew together in a tight line as he racked his brain for information. “It’s the hair. You don’t see that white-blonde color very often.” He tapped the photo. “I’m pretty sure she’s been a guest at Eva’s.”
He reached for the phone on his desk, but stopped. “I’ll be back shortly. If she was a guest at The Grove, Eva will remember. Maybe help us piece together a timeline.” He grabbed his hat on the way out. “In the meantime, see what else you can find out about her. Where she was going, anything.”
It’s me.
The Voice’s pronouncement followed him to the car. Once behind the wheel, he vented his frustration. “These damn cryptic messages are driving me crazy! What do you want from me? And why the hell can’t you say more than a few words at a time?”
Silence answered him.
Ten minutes later, he pulled into the drive.
Sam swept the front porch while Jack lounged on the steps. “Hi there. Didn’t expect you home so soon.” Her smile of welcome quickly vanished. “What’s wrong? Not another body?”
“Where’s Eva?”
Her brows drew together in a tight frown. “The front parlor, working on the books.”
He headed for the door, and stopped. “Maybe you should come, too. I’m not sure how she’ll handle this.”
Color drained from her face. “Oh my God, Coop, what’s wrong?”
He held up the folder. “ID on the last victim. Might have been a guest here. One of those women Eva wanted to set me up with.”
Silent, they entered the parlor.
“Coop wh –” Eva stopped and looked from one to the other. “What’s wrong? Is it Jason?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” said Coop. “I need you to look at a photo and tell me if you recognize it.”
“…Okay.”
Coop pulled the picture from the file and passed it to her.
She gasped and put a hand to her throat. “Peggy Wallace. She was here last month. I remember because of the hair. And her personality…such a lost and lonely soul.” She looked at Coop, eyes filled with sadness. “She’s the other one, isn’t she?”
“I think so. I need anything you might remember about her; when she arrived, how long she stayed. All of it.”
Eva pulled a ledger from a desk drawer and thumbed through it. “Here it is. Told me this was her last week of freedom before school started again. She booked August third through the ninth, but, checked out a day early.”
“Did she say anything about people she met here?”
Eva’s cheeks turned a bright rosy-red as she glanced back and forth from him to Sam. “Only you. Which is my fault.” The older woman squirmed in her chair, obviously uncomfortable with the topic. “I had high hopes when I first spoke with her on the phone. After we met, though, I knew it would never work, so didn’t encourage her.”
Thrown off by the admission, he asked. “Why? I thought that was your number one priority.”
She closed the ledger and looked at him, blue eyes full of compassion. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but,” she huffed out a breath. “Bless her heart, she was a hot mess, as they say today.”
“In what way?”
Her gnarled fingers slid over the ledger’s rough exterior, eyes downcast. “She seemed to be, um…I think the term is a party girl.” Faded blue eyes softened as she looked at him. “She said she just wanted a good time, but down deep, I think she was a terribly lonely woman. She had just broke up with a long-time boyfriend.” She glanced between them, cheeks coloring again. “The night you joined us for dessert meant a lot to her. She said you treated her like she mattered.” She paused in thought. “Let’s see…that was Thursday night. You left for Austin the next day for your sheriff’s meeting. She left on Saturday.”
“She didn’t say anything about where she went or who she saw?”
“No, not really. She mentioned sightseeing, shopping on the square, ate at Bub’s. She did go to Teddy’s on Friday night and was late getting home. Then late Saturday afternoon, she came down with her luggage. She said her plans changed, and she checked out.”
His pulse quickened. Teddy’s. The first victim went there, too. Was that the connection?
“Did she seem upset or anything?”
“No. In fact, she seemed quite happy, like the change in plans was a good thing.”
He gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.” He stuffed the photo back in the file and took Sam’s hand. “No leaving the house alone until this is settled. Please. And Jack doesn’t count as company.”
Twin lines of worry appeared between her eyes, but her voice remained light. “Well, since you said please…oh wait. I’m supposed to meet with Doc and his attorney this afternoon at the clinic.”
“What time?”
“Four.”
“I’ll pick you up at three-thirty.”
“I hate to bother you. I can drive myself. Jack will be with me.”
“Sam –”
“You know how Jack is. He won’t let anyone near me.”
He hesitated, mulling over the long list of things he needed to do regarding the investigations. “Fine. Drive yourself, but call me when you leave here, and when you get there.”
