Snowed Under (Roadside Attractions Book 7) Page 5

  I cry out his name, but no sound comes from me. He only knows he’s done it to me again because my whole body comes off the bed. If it weren’t for the pillows, I might injure myself on the headboard.

  This greedy man takes this opportunity to shove my legs over his shoulders and begins again, pleasuring me from a whole new angle.

  I am now fiercely white-knuckling the headboard. The rest of my body? No bones.

  One fact is inevitable; Wyatt is a man who stops when he’s good and ready to stop and not a minute before. And I’m here for it.

  When I wake up a few hours later, Wyatt has left a note.

  “Good morning, angel. Breakfast is in the oven. I have to coordinate the emergency response at the elementary school. Half the town is without power. I’ll be back in an hour. STAY PUT. I have something I need to ask you.”

  Although I’m a little sad he’s not here, I understand. But more than that, I’m pissed he didn’t wake me so I could do something to help. I’m a hundred percent certain that Wyatt will be needed for much more than an hour of his time.

  How lucky he is that this place has a backup generator.

  “And a gas oven,” I say with a smile as I ease out of bed, the aroma of biscuits and gravy making me drool. I retrieve a pair of jeans and warm socks from my suitcase, and then I find myself rifling through Wyatt’s closet.

  Everything in it smells like him. I choose a hoodie, pull it on, and check myself in the mirror. The hoodie is too big, but I like how I look and feel in Wyatt’s clothes. I also like the twinge between my legs. I turn my head and look at the small hickey on my neck. He marked me as his in so many ways last night.

  The biscuits and gravy are ready for me in a warm oven in the kitchen. Sitting down at the table, I eat it right out of the pan, and it warms me to my toes.

  Wyatt has also left me with a fresh pot of water in the kettle, ready for tea.

  He knows what it takes to keep me around.

  “I love you, Wyatt,” I sigh, though no one else can hear me.

  After I clean up the kitchen, I get the fidgets. I don’t know what to do with myself. He said not to leave, but what am I supposed to do…read a book? I consider going outside and enjoying the snow, but that’s not so appealing without my man to warm me up.

  The thought of all that calls to mind what people without fireplaces or generators are going through right now. They must be freezing, and scared, and lonely. What the children must be going through, having to sleep in a gymnasium.

  That’s when I know what I have to do.

  I have to ransack the jail and call in a few favors.

  On my phone, I brace myself for yet another message from my annoying “friend.” Surprisingly, there are none.

  When I call my partner, Robert, he’s back in Miami already.

  And he has some news.

  “The goose chase in Gold Hill cost us. They’re pulling us off the attempted kidnapping case.”

  Did I hear that right?

  “This is not acceptable, Robert.”

  “It sucks.”

  “It more than sucks.”

  The pause is him trying to anticipate my next move. “Don’t go rogue, Lucy. I know how you hate to leave things unfinished. Come back to Miami as soon as you can, and we can debrief whoever is taking on the case.”

  “Well, Robert. Right now, I have to help some people move supplies. This town got hit pretty hard by the snow and ice last night. Do you think you could help me make some calls? Diapers, clean underwear, bath products. The usual.”

  “That, I can do.”

  I hang up the phone and try to get into the proper headspace. I thought I was getting close, but now there will be delays. Paperwork. Meetings upon meetings to bring a new person up to speed.

  In the meantime, I have to do something, or I’ll go crazy.

  During the time it takes for me to de-ice and clear the snow from around my rental car, I see Ruby’s Catering truck headed down the road. Also, fire trucks, power trucks, and even a vehicle marked as from the Gold Hill Sheriff’s Department.

  I guess in an emergency, even rivals come together.

  Chapter Ten

  Wyatt

  Everyone is here to help, even that jerk Sheriff Oakley from Gold Hill has come to deliver bottles of water and paper towels.

  I nod and shake his hand. “Much obliged.”

  This is the first time I’ve seen his face since he was interviewed on TV, and he’s still an odd bird. He gives me a curt nod. “Neighbors gotta help neighbors. Just doing my job,” he replies, unsmiling. His craggy face would be distinguished, but he’s got bags under his eyes. I feel for the guy. No doubt he’s got his own problems to deal with. The foremost being his entire personality.

  “Y’all got power up there? How are the roads?” I ask politely.

  “Power’s fine. Last year, we upgraded our grid and got an all-new fleet of salt trucks. Our human mayor like to stay prepared.”

  With that little jab, he pretends to take a phone call in the worst bit of acting I’ve ever seen. Whatever, guy. I guess some people don’t like small talk. But he’s done right by me, so I’m ready to forgive and forget all the wild things he’s said about me and my town in the past.

  Everyone with a medical background, including the volunteer firefighters, tends to the local nursing home residents, where the backup generator went out this morning. My deputy Noah is following around Ursula, the pharmacist, like a lovesick puppy, pretending to be busy. This is the first I’ve seen him act this way toward her. Maybe there’s something in the water.

  Everyone else seems to be okay so far. Even the mayor has gotten involved; Flash is wearing his Emotional Support Mayor vest that the knitting club made him, and people are taking the opportunity to give lots of pets and get lots of dog kisses.

  Some of the town’s teenagers are entertaining little ones up on the school’s stage. People, in general, seem in good spirits, and Ruby’s Catering has already provided breakfast and stocked the kitchen with lunch and dinner.

  “Thanks, Ruby,” I say to my lifelong friend. “I don’t know where we would be without you.”

  She winks and tosses her blazing red hair, then points over my shoulder. “You can thank your girl. She called me as soon as she saw your message. I already had a bunch of meals prepped in the freezer in case of emergency, and now they gotta get eaten, or it’s a waste.”

  I turn to see where she’s pointing and who should walk in, but the very person I had told to stay put. She’s handing out quilts, blankets, hats, and mittens.

  My body closes the distance like a magnet. I pull my Lucy to me and hug her tight, not caring that I look unprofessional in my uniform or that people are staring.

  “I told you to stay at home, Lucy.”

  “You know I can’t sit still.” She smiles up at me. “And I missed you.”

  My heart hammers in my chest, and I inhale her scent, burying my face in her hair. “I missed you too.”

  I kiss her on the forehead, and she kisses me on the nose. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  I feel warm all over. Although I was right to tell her to stay home, it is also fitting for her to help me. I feel ten times better now that she’s here.

  “I got some bad news, though,” she says, and I can see from her face that this is no joke. “I’ve been pulled off a case I’ve spent months investigating. I’m so upset, Wyatt. It’s part of the job, but so frustrating, I just….”

  She trails off, and I hear the catch in her throat. I’m just as upset to hear this as she is. I wrap her up in another tight hug.

  “What can I do?”

  Sniffling, she says, “Just let me vent to you over the phone when I’m going through the whole process of handing it over to another agent.”

  I’m gonna do more than be on the phone. I’m going to be right there, keeping an eye on her from now on.

  Just then, Cash radios me. He’s supposed to be directing traffic outside the school. “Heads up, boss. Some guy parked right on the sidewalk. The tag on the car looks like a fed. The driver is heading your way. Didn’t stop when I tried to tell him to move his car. Didn’t see a badge.”

  I see the guy already. A man about six foot four and brawny, wearing sunglasses and a long navy wool coat and the gait of a take-no-prisoners military man, approaches.

  “Agent Brody. Please come with me.”

  I tighten my hold on Lucy, and she stiffens in my arms.

  “Spade! What’s this about?”

  He ignores her question. “You’re to report to Washington today, Agent Brody.”

  “Like hell, she is,” I say.

  Lucy pats my chest and gives me an “everything will be okay” look. But nothing is okay about any of this.

  “I’m going with you. No way are you going with this guy, alone,” I say. “Lemme see your badge.”

  A strange smirk pulls at the stranger’s lip as he flashes his badge.

  “It’s okay, Wyatt, I know who he is,” Lucy insists, patting my chest. “We’ve FaceTimed before. He’s in the cyber crimes division.”

  She gives me a knowing look, and I finally understand. This is about her stalker. Now, I’m extra pissed.

  “We’ve got work to do here, so if it can wait, I’ll take her to D.C. personally,” I offer.

  “Not an option,” the agent says.

  I can’t help myself; I have to comment on his bad manners. “Where I come from, we introduce ourselves,” I say, holding out my hand for the man to shake it.

  “Agent Brody, it’s time to go,” he says, ignoring my offered hand.

  Lucy huffs. “I hardly think it’s necessary to go to Washington. But, I’ll go as soon as Fate is through this emergency.”

  The male agent clears his throat. “I was asked to escort you personally. The situation has been … handled. And we need your statement.”

  She looks surprised but relaxes in my arms. “Oh! Today? Did you come all this way for that? Why not just call me to let me know you found the guy?”

  “I’m not at liberty to disclose that. But your supervisor requested an escort because they believe you’re still being tracked. You’ll have to hand over your phone as well.”

  I don’t like the sound of this at all.

  “Can I just say goodbye to my boyfriend, please?” she pleads, handing over her phone.

  My heart warms and breaks at the same time.

  The man huffs and indicates he’ll be waiting outside.

  When he’s gone, I try to talk some sense into her. “Babe, this doesn’t look good. I can’t let you go with that guy.”

  She rolls up on her toes and presses a sweet, heartbreaking kiss to my lips.

  “It’s okay. I know him. The FBI is a smaller world than you think it is. I’m coming straight back here as soon as they’re finished with me. I’ve racked up plenty of vacation time; I can hop on the next plane. Don’t worry.”

  While this does make me feel a bit better, I still can’t shake the feeling in my gut. The tracker I installed on her phone while she was asleep last night is an even smaller comfort.

  “I’ll go with you. I’ll put Cash in charge. He’s more than capable.”

  “You can’t come with me. I’m sorry.”

  I grunt my displeasure, and she taps a finger on my sternum. “Hey. Have a little faith in me. I’ve handled myself in this job for a while now. This is all according to protocol. A little over the top, security-wise, but not unheard of.”

  My phone rings, and I want to send it to voicemail, but I can’t. “It’s Izzy. She’s coordinating some volunteers from Gold Hill; I have to take this. Dammit! Hang on! Don’t move.”

  “I gotta go,” she says, backing away.

  I send Izzy to voicemail and go after my Lucy. Following her out the door of the school gymnasium, we resume our goodbyes on the frozen sidewalk, where the agent stands by the black SUV, ready to take my girl away from me.

  She hugs me, kisses me, and her tears fall on my face.

  “I love you, Lucy. And I’m coming with you.”

  The man steps between Lucy and me. “Sir, if you continue to interfere, you will be charged by the federal government.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Lucy shakes her head. “Take care of your people. And I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

  As I watch the car drive away, pain eats at my guts. “You are my people.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucy

  Bless that crazy sheriff.

  As we leave Fate, I see half a dozen barricades and traffic cones have been moved. Mooney must have set them up last night to keep people from driving out of town in the storm. It seems that Spade had moved them all out of his way on his trip into town to pick me up.

  Too bad Mooney can’t actually keep people in Fate by setting up traffic cones and detours. It’s also too bad he can’t keep the harshness of the world away, either. This is far too soon for me to be heading back to reality.

  About twenty minutes into the trip, I notice we’re heading in the wrong direction. “This isn’t the way to the airport.” When Spade doesn’t answer, I know something is off.

  We’re driving less than twenty miles per hour through the foothills, and even this is too fast. The snowplows seem to have made only one pass so far on the highway, and the concrete remains thick with snow and ice. Yet Spade seems driven by a motor to get us somewhere else.

  I try to sound breezy. He has to believe that I only think he has a lousy sense of direction. “Cincinnati is west of here; we missed a turn somewhere, Spade.”

  When he doesn’t answer, I press on lightheartedly, even though my heart pounds in my throat now. “Did the feds charter a plane in Gold Hill?”

  Still, no reply. I turn to look him over, and the agent seems solely focused on the road, his jaw clenched in stress and his mouth set in a firm line that reminds me of an automaton.

  I’m now not only confused but also afraid. And then I remember he hasn’t yet returned my phone since I handed it over for him to debug.

  Taking a deep breath, I calmly try to appeal to his ego as a federal agent. “Come on. They sent you, a seasoned bureau veteran, way to the boonies for little ol’ me? You can tell me what’s going on. It’s a big deal, isn’t it?”

  Around the next bend in the road, the Ohio River looms. The silver bridge glints in the sunlight. Today is a cold, beautiful winter morning with a cloudless blue sky. The sun reflects off the blanket of snow all around us. I wish I were out there enjoying it, sitting at a window with some hot cocoa. Maybe the power has already been restored in Fate. Perhaps I could be making a snowman with Wyatt right now instead of heading nowhere with Spade.

  We’re getting close to the state line, where the only way to cross is to drive over a bridge that spans half a mile—a bridge most likely coated in snow and ice. Spade is up to something shady, and he’s bringing me somewhere I don’t want to be. Either that will happen, or we plunge to our deaths in the Ohio River.

  Summoning all my inner strength, I choose not to accept either scenario.

  We are not going anywhere near that bridge, not if I can help it.

  I unbuckle my seat belt, lunge at Spade, and yank the wheel roughly in one practiced move. A stupid thing to do if I don’t wish to be thrown from a vehicle, but today that’s not going to happen. The car spins 180 degrees before Spade can try to compensate by cranking the wheel in the opposite direction, which does nothing to keep us from skidding right into the ditch. Fortunately, the ditch is no longer a ditch, but a snowbank.

  We finally cease skidding when the car abruptly wedges itself into the wall of snow along the highway.

  He shouts angrily, “The fuck is wrong with you?”

  I shout back, “Tell me what is going on!”

  A phone rings. It’s my ringtone. The sound is muffled, but I know it’s mine.

  “Do you hear that? People are already checking on me. Did you think of that? Aside from my partner, there’s a whole town full of people back there who will rain down fresh hell on your head if I don’t answer my boyfriend’s calls. Is that what you want?”

  Spade reaches for his handcuffs, but I’m faster.

  “I think the fuck not, agent,” I say, grabbing them out of his hand and tossing them in the back seat.

  He grits his teeth, and his chest heaves in frustration. I wait for him to try to subdue me again. But he doesn’t. Why?

  “Just chill the fuck out for a minute, and you’ll see,” he mutters. Spade rams the gas pedal to the floor, but the tires only spin with a sickening whining sound.

  Now is my chance. Too bad I didn’t time that skid better because it’s my side of the car that’s buried in snow. There are two ways out of this situation: subdue Spade and climb out, or scramble into the back seat, break the window (because I’m sure he’s child-locked the doors and windows), and crawl out.

  I choose incapacitation. If I’m wrong about this man, and he’s not up to something sinister, then I’ll deal with the consequences.

  Spade is still impotently trying to free the car by slamming the shifter into reverse, back into drive, and back into reverse again, all the while cursing and muttering.

  “This is not how it’s supposed to go. We’re so close.”

  Close to what? I don’t want to know. The phone that’s been ringing this whole time has finally stopped. Have they given up? Well, I don’t have that choice.

  Usually, I prefer a swift headbutt; however, an elbow to the nose will suffice from this angle. I jab as hard as possible. My elbow slams the side of Spade’s nose, and I feel the cartilage give way. He slumps forward, his bald head landing on the steering wheel, against the horn.

  Trying not to get blood on me, I angle his seat back and pull him off the wheel so I can climb over him and unlock the driver’s side door. I grab a phone on my way out, and I don’t know if it’s mine or his.

  I scramble out of the car and fall to the ground. Once I’m back on my feet, I look at the phone that I’ve snatched from Spade’s coat pocket. Of course, it’s not mine. That would be too convenient, wouldn’t it?