“That’s not what has you shaken.”
“I almost hurt him, Cole. I imagined how his pain would feel, how his blood would taste.” I pulled the covers up higher on my chest. “Is this how it starts? Are these the first signs of Conquest rousing? What if she’s been waiting on her sisters this whole time? Now that War is here and Famine is coming, maybe she’s ready to crack me open like a walnut.”
“You protected him from the urges. That’s what matters.”
Never one to utter empty platitudes, Cole didn’t say the words I most longed to hear. He didn’t assure me I would never hurt Rixton, didn’t accuse me of overreacting, didn’t promise me Conquest would remain sleeping, but the worst was when he didn’t tell me everything would be okay.
“I’m scared to nap,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have let Rixton bring me home with him.”
“Sleep.” Cole’s fingertips brushed the glass. “I won’t let you hurt anyone, Luce.”
“You can’t skulk in the bushes all morning. The neighborhood watch will call it in.” I thought about it and then decided. “Or they might skip the police and call Rixton direct.”
“I have natural camouflage,” he reminded me. “I’ll be back in twenty. Can you hold on that long?”
Despite the number of times I’d brushed my teeth, I still imagined the taste of copper. “Yeah.” Cole turned from the window, and I sat up to watch him go. “How will I know when it’s safe?”
With his back to me, I couldn’t be sure, but I’d bet money he was smiling when he said, “You’ll know.”
A half hour later, he missed his deadline, and I tossed off the covers. I was prepared to suck it up and go without rest, but then the roof groaned overhead. Panic surged in my veins as the math of how much dragon a three-bedroom ranch could support tumbled through my head, but the resulting equation went something like this: Cole plus dragon equals safety.
Trust was an invaluable commodity, one that could not be bought, and I realized as I closed my eyes that I had given him mine.
Sherry had washed and pressed my uniform while I slept, eliminating the need for me to swing by the Trudeaus’ before Rixton drove us to work. As much as I wanted to check on Dad, I wanted to get out of my head more, and the fastest way to do that was to bury myself in paperwork.
Dawson shot us both an update around dinner, but the bulk of his email contained information gleaned from Summers on the Madison fire that she had already shared with us prior to his arrival.
Over a platter of fajita fixings at our favorite Mexican restaurant, Rixton and I compared our own notes while stuffing our faces.
The Hensarlings and the Culbersons used different banks to finance their farms. Their insurance policies were carried by separate companies as well. No obvious strings tied the two together on a business level.
On a personal level, however, each farm employed several family members. A few of the Hensarling employees appeared to be connected to the Culbersons by blood or friendship, scandal or rumor, but there was nothing malicious in those relationships.
The deeper we dug, the less dirt we had to shovel. The two crimes appeared to be random, unrelated events. This morning’s tragedy was our last hope of catching a whiff of connection between all three.
By the end of the shift, I was antsy to follow up on a hunch, but first I had to shake Rixton. The problem was, he had picked me up, so he was dropping me off too.
“Thanks for the ride.” I made to escape the cruiser onto the sidewalk in front of the Trudeaus’ house. “And everything else.”
“Remember our talk,” he warned me. “I’m here if you need me. So is Sherry. So are Harold and Nancy.”
“I know.” I eased onto the sidewalk. “Night.”
Rixton shooed me toward the front door. “Skedaddle.”
Luckily, I had already made my peace with this necessary pit stop. Rixton put on a brave face, but I had shaken him earlier. Hell, I had rattled myself.
When I lingered in the driveway, he mimed a walking gesture with his fingers. He wasn’t leaving until I was in the house with the door shut behind me. Getting out of there once I got in would be tough, but I needed to change and pick up supplies before I left again.
Thanks to our overlapping schedules, Uncle Harold wasn’t at home. Aunt Nancy, however, waited for me in the hallway with a wrinkled brow and a tapping foot. “What happened that was so awful you couldn’t face coming home?”
Though part of me wanted to insulate her from the ugliness of my morning, she had been married to a cop long enough to have heard it all by this point.
“Liam Dawson is working the arson cases that have been on the news. Rixton and I are helping.” I shifted the pack on my shoulder. “Today we got called down to Madison. There’s been a third fire. There were five casualties.” I scuffed my foot, but I couldn’t postpone the lie. “So, yeah. I wanted to decompress, no questions asked. Rixton offered to let me sleep at his place, so I crashed in his guest room.”
Aunt Nancy stopped tapping her foot and raised a hand to her mouth. “I had no idea.”
“I’m sorry I worried you, but the next few weeks are going to be rough. We’ve got to shut this down before more innocents are hurt.” I dropped the bag at my feet so it would be easy to grab on my way out the door and put my cop hat on. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Her hand lowered to her throat. “Of course not.”
“Did you know Eliza Orvis?” This was going to get messy fast, but every scrap of information helped. “Your jasmine came from Orvis Nursery, right? I recognized the logo tonight and thought I’d ask if you knew the owner.”
“Her in-laws go to church with us. That’s how I heard about her business. The divorce got nasty over who got to keep it and the name, and they were stuck in the middle. I don’t know Eliza except on sight, but the kids attend Sunday school every other weekend.” Her gasp made me regret opening my mouth, and her fingers trembled. “You don’t mean…?”
“The house was burned to the ground,” I said softly. “There were no survivors.”
Her hand drifted back up to cover her lips. “The babies?”
I shook my head once.
“Lord have mercy.” She spoke through her fingers. “I’ll speak to Pastor Waite and see what can be done.” She noticed the bag at my feet and sagged on her frame. “You’re leaving again?”
“As soon as I change.” I didn’t expect what popped out of my mouth next. “I can move out if my hours are disrupting your schedule. The house is habitable. I’ll still help with Dad, but at least you wouldn’t have to deal with me coming and going at all hours.”
“You’re welcome to come and go as you please, tater tot.” Her sigh carried sorrow. “I just hate you have to see so much ugly out there. Though I suppose someone’s got to look. Blind eyes behold no injustice.”
Eager to get changed and on my way, I edged closer to the living room. “How was Dad today?”
“He had a few lucid spells later this afternoon. They lasted about a half hour to forty-five minutes each. He was foggy again before he went to bed, but he’s resting easy.” She joined me on the threshold, both of us watching him sleep. “At this rate, he’ll be ready for the department’s annual bass tournament next month.”
“Team Kiss My Bass does have a title to defend,” I reminded her. “If anything is going to snap Dad out of this, it would be fear of losing that hideous trophy to one of the rookies.”
“I’m just glad Harry lets your father keep it at your house.” Her relief rang true. “I’m pretty sure it’s an old mount with sentimental value that someone’s wife wanted gone. I bet you five dollars the founder established a tournament in its honor as a means of thumbing his nose at the missus.”