Officer out of Uniform (Lock and Key Book 2) (17 page)

Randy was soaked to the bone when he got back to the trailer, where the only vehicle was Joseph Reynolds’ old jalopy.

Some of the tension drained out of his sore muscles as he hurried inside, but the relief was short-lived. On one hand, it was lucky Sean wasn’t back yet. Randy had counted on him being back, had hidden the shovel in the woods instead of carrying it with him. Now he had a chance to get cleaned up, avoid awkward questions.

On the other hand, though … where the fuck was Sean?

Nightmare scenarios raced through Randy’s head, ones where the police pulled into the driveway instead of Sean. Lights flashing, guns drawn, ready to end Randy’s revenge spree when it’d barely begun.

He stomped back to the bathroom, stripped out of his wet clothes and toweled off. He only had one other outfit, and he pulled it on as quickly as he could. Still, even when he was finished, he was alone.

Part of him wanted to grab the Blaser and run back out into the woods. He’d seen on the news that there was a hurricane flirting with the East Coast further south though, creeping up on Florida and threatening to sweep the Carolina coast. If things got serious, he didn’t want to be caught living rough in the woods.

Swearing, he sank into the arm chair. Why the hell hadn’t he offed Sean in the first place? Stupid decision not to. Letting him live was more of a risk than having to dispose of the body. Besides, he’d found a decent place where he could do just that without having to drive anywhere.

He’d barely sat down when the sound of a motor made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Leaping out of the chair, he hurried to the window and lifted the corner of the curtain.

It was Sean. He pulled his rustbucket into the driveway, then stepped out cradling a huge bag of fast food against his chest.

He wasn’t alone.

“God damn it all!” Randy pounded his fist against the wall.

A girl climbed out of the passenger seat, a knocked-up brunette who waddled through the gravel, her belly sticking out in front of the rest of her by about a foot, stretching the waistband of her sweatpants.

Randy waited for Sean to lay a hand on the doorknob, then swung the door open. “The hell’s goin’ on?” he asked as soon as they were both inside.

The girl gave him a look that was half sour and half fearful.

Randy slammed the door shut before she or Sean could go anywhere.

“This is Chloe,” he said. “She’s my girl. I’m gonna ask my old man if she can crash here with me for a while. We didn’t get to see each other much for a few months, but we’re back together now.”

The girl smiled and grasped Sean’s skinny little hand.

Randy felt himself teetering on the edge of an aneurysm.

“Don’t worry about her man,” Sean said. “She’s cool. I told her about our arrangement.”

Randy had to restrain himself from choking the life out of Sean right then and there. But then, the grave he’d dug in the woods was shallow and had only been meant for one person. And now that the girl was here, there was no question of letting her waddle away to tattle on him.

And that didn’t leave him with very many choices.

* * * * *

15 Years Ago

Randy raised his rifle, taking aim at a squirrel hanging off the side of a struggling pine. Not much meat on those bones, but they’d been waiting a hell of a long time for something better to come along.

Seemed like they’d been waiting forever. Maybe it was too hot even for the animals. This was their usual hunting spot, and not a single deer or rabbit had crossed their path. Randy shifted where he lay on a carpet of shed pine needles, itching all over.

“I fucking hate this place,” Troy said. He was 15 and when he and Randy were out in the woods, he used language that would’ve earned him an asskicking at home. “And I fucking hate dad. He’s such an asshole.”

Randy could hear the quiver in his brother’s voice – the fear.

“I know,” he answered, picking a daddy longlegs off his boot and crushing it with the butt of his rifle.

“I mean, why couldn’t he have just gotten shot at work or something? Mama told me that if he ever died with his uniform on, we’d get a lotta money from the insurance company. Instead he just went and got himself fired, and now we ain’t got shit.”

It wasn’t like they’d ever had much in the first place. Their old man had spent damn near every dime the Hamlin County Sheriff’s Department had paid him at the liquor store. But yeah, things were even worse now – had been since their father had been forced to turn in his badge.

There weren’t two nickels in the whole house they could rub together. Their old man was always bumming liquor money from people who weren’t his friends anymore. Randy couldn’t show his face in town without people givin’ him dirty looks and reminding him that his daddy owed them.

It was damn near unbearable. Just like the heat and humidity of the woods – the ever-creeping spiders – it was too much to take.

“I tell you one thing,” Randy said. “Even if there’s no insurance money, I’d like it better if he was dead. No more gettin’ our asses beat. No more sittin’ out in these sorry woods and bein’ eaten alive by mosquitos.”

“Yeah.” Troy’s head bobbed as he turned, laying down his rifle and reaching for the ratty old backpack they’d packed water and a few peanut butter sandwiches into. “Hey…”

Troy rummaged down to the bottom of the pack and pulled out a bottle.

“The hell did you get your hands on that?” It was one of their daddy’s liquor bottles, about half full.

Troy shrugged. “I saw mama take it while he was passed out, put it in the trash. Figured he’d beat her black and blue if he found it in there, so I figured I’d do her a favor.”

Randy didn’t reveal how surprised he was that his little brother had worked up the balls to steal their daddy’s liquor, even if their mother had thrown it away. Instead, he shook his head. “Don’t see why you wanna risk your own ass to do her any favors. She never says a damn word when he beats us.”

Troy froze like a deer in headlights. “You know it wouldn’t make no difference. He’d just beat her too.”

Randy didn’t say anything, just watched his brother open the bottle and take a short drink that ended in sputtering.

As Troy coughed, Randy snatched the bottle from his hand and tipped it back, choking down a long pull. It tasted like gasoline smelled, but he managed not to spit it out or cough.

“You know,” he said as the liquor burnt in the pit of his stomach. “This shit is flammable as all get out. You soak a piece of wood in this and set a match to it—” he snapped his fingers “—it’s up in flames, just like that.”

Troy shook his head. “It’s hot enough out here without a fire.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t thinkin’ about starting a fire out here. I was thinkin’ closer to home.”

With the god-awful liquor burning in his gut, he felt like he could say things he normally didn’t dare speak out loud. Things that had churned in the back of his mind and tied his tongue in knots, ‘til now.

What did it matter anyway? There was no one out here but them, and Troy would probably shit himself at just the thought of telling their father what Randy was about to say.

“What d’you mean?” Troy’s mouth hung open.

“I mean that if we waited ‘til dad was passed out and dumped all his liquor out in the house, then dropped a match, we’d never have to worry about gettin’ our asses beat again. You know he sleeps like the dead after a bender. Me, you and mama could run before the fire got too bad. She’d never know we started it, and I bet she wouldn’t tell no one, even if she did.”

Troy frowned. “Shit Randy, you talkin’ about killing our old man?”

Randy spit into the pine needles. Why was Troy so weak? There was no reason why they should have to put up with what they did. If they had the balls, they could put an end to it all.

“So what if I am?” he said, making his voice hard, staring straight into Troy’s eyes.

When his little brother finally answered, he sounded different than he had a minute ago. Different than he ever had before.

“I just don’t see why you’d use liquor is all. Seems like we’d need a hell of a lot of it, and gasoline would be cheaper. Or kerosene. We got some of that out in the shed.”

* * * * *

The rain beat down on the trailer, and for a second, the water hitting the roof sounded just like the splash of fuel against floorboards. Randy looked Sean and Chloe each in the eye and didn’t flinch.

The grave he’d dug in the woods wasn’t meant for two people – especially not a bloated bitch like her – but it was located at the foot of a little ridge that’d eroded into a rockslide. He’d planned to slack on the depth, then cover the top with rocks to keep animals from unearthing the body anytime soon.

He’d have to make the grave a little wider, but no deeper. He’d do it. He’d committed himself to doing whatever he had to a long time ago, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

“Oh, thank God.” Sasha stared over Alicia’s shoulder at the computer monitor.

Alicia turned to look at her. “
Thank God
? I take it you like the dress then?”

Sasha couldn’t help sighing as she stared at the gown displayed on the screen. Cap-sleeved and knee length, it boasted a cute fit-and-flare style that would be flattering on just about any body type.

“I’m just relieved it’s not strapless. I was a bridesmaid in my cousin’s wedding a few years ago and she chose strapless dresses. I spent the entire ceremony pretending not to notice the weight of a thousand stares on my cleavage and worrying I’d experience a wardrobe malfunction.”

Alicia cleared her throat. “Well I don’t think you’ll have to worry about
that
with this dress. So you both like the design?”

“Looks great to me,” Sasha replied, and Kerry agreed.

“Okay. I had them ordered into that bridal boutique in Wilmington, and they called this morning to let me know they’re in. If they fit and you like them, great, and if not, there’s plenty of time to order a different size or style. I think this shade of blue will flatter you both, too.”

“It could be neon camouflage for all I care,” Sasha said, “just as long as I’m not expected to dress like a 16 year old going to her first prom. There’s not a strapless bra on the face of this planet that could persuade me to do that again.”

Alicia grinned. “You know, I once spoke to another wedding planner who coordinated a camouflage-themed ceremony.”

“Sounds like something that would happen around here. Was she a local?”

“No, we met at an expo a couple years ago. I think the ceremony was in Virginia. The groom was a big hunter – had his own hunting TV show, I think.”

Sasha cast a sideways glance across Alicia and Liam’s living room. She could just see into the kitchen, where Henry, Liam and Grey were gathered around the table, decimating a platter of homemade macadamia nut cookies she’d brought along. “I think the guys are planning a hunting trip as we speak,” she said.

She wasn’t talking about hunting for wild game, of course. No, they all had their heads together and judging by the looks on their faces, Henry had gotten Liam and Grey wrapped up in his obsession with Randy Levinson.

“Hey guys,” she called out, “how are those cookies?”

A few seconds ticked by. “What – Sasha, did you say something?”

She narrowed her eyes at Henry in mock-annoyance. “I asked what you three thought of the cookies.”

“Great,” they all said, nearly in unison, and went back to frowning at the table.

Alicia sighed. “Don’t bother trying to sidetrack Liam when he’s all worked up over the Levinsons. Or the one that’s left, I should say. He’s un-distractible.”

Sasha was about to say that there was always at least
one
surefire way to distract a man, but then she remembered the supernaturally strong willpower Henry had displayed several days ago, during her second night at his place. There was no way around it: Henry and his friends were exceptional.

Exceptionally sexy, and exceptionally frustrating, at times.

“Grey tried to convince me that I shouldn’t be living alone while a murderer’s on the loose,” Kerry said, her voice low. “He didn’t come right out and say it, but I’m pretty sure he was hoping I’d ask if I could stay over at his place. He actually offered last time, when they first broke out.”

The way she rolled her eyes seemed to say what she thought of that, but Sasha noticed the way she blushed a little, too.

“He and Liam are two peas in a pod,” Alicia said, grinning and closing the browser window. “Of course, I can’t exactly say I’m sorry I took Liam up on his offer.” As she removed her left hand from the keyboard, a sizeable rock sparkled on her ring finger, reinforcing that sentiment.

Sasha’s heart felt tight and happy every time she thought of Alicia and Liam getting married. Really, they were about as close to perfect for each other as two people could be. And although they hadn’t been together very long, they’d faced more as couple than most would in a lifetime. But the guys’ behavior – Liam’s included – was getting a little ridiculous.

Of course, Sasha was well aware that she was the only one of the women willing to step in and administer a dose of reality.

“You know,” she said, approaching the table where the guys were gathered, “it’s an urban myth that if you frown hard enough while chewing a cookie, the convict you’re chasing will appear. All you’ll get are premature wrinkles. Seriously guys, I hope you’re not planning to slip away from us to go on some sort of wild goose chase for Randy Levinson today.”

They all three looked up at her, and it was Grey who spoke first. “Bad news – you’re not clairvoyant, Sasha.” He smirked. “We’re not planning on going after Randy.” His expression said
today, anyway
.

Liam nodded, then scoffed. “And we’re definitely not abandoning you three in the middle of Wilmington.”

“Then what exactly are you three conspiring over? And don’t tell me you’re not planning anything. I may not be clairvoyant, but a monkey could see that you guys are plotting something.”

“We’re just planning our day at the beach,” Henry said, meeting her eyes. “You know, the picnic you insisted on us having.”

His gaze was unwavering, and while she didn’t think he was lying, she
knew
there were things he wasn’t saying.

“Uh-huh.” She looked over her shoulder at Kerry and Alicia, who were picking up their purses from the kitchen counter. “Would you two believe that the guys have been over here stressing over our picnic for the past fifteen minutes? I think they’re worried we won’t be able to get a good spot on the beach, since it’s the weekend and tourist season and all. It’s cute how this means so much to them.”

“We could always eat at a nearby park and hit the beach afterward if space is really an issue,” Alicia said.

Sasha had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Alicia was so head over heels for Liam that she wouldn’t even poke fun of him when he was in macho mode. Then again…

Liam
had
jumped out of a burning building and attacked a knife-wielding psychopath, saving Alicia’s life. In light of that, Sasha decided to cut him a little slack.

“All right guys.” She smiled. “Whatever you say. Are you ready to leave?”

Grey returned her grin, but when she turned away and they all began filing out the door, she could’ve sworn she heard him say something under his breath. Something like: “I don’t trust that smile.”

Well, she didn’t trust him either. Or Liam or Henry, for that matter.

Oh, she knew they’d do anything to protect her, Kerry and Alicia, but something told her that they were dead set on ruining the fun, relaxing day she’d planned in the process.

It was really hard to give them all a break when they refused to take one.

* * * * *

Henry’s big blue Dodge Ram truck could hold 6 passengers.
Could
. Normally, Sasha would’ve questioned whether that meant it
should
when they had half a dozen vehicles between them, but since she was squashed cozily beside Henry, she wasn’t complaining.

She
was
sweating a little, though – walking just a few of Wilmington’s city blocks in the July heat had been a searing experience.

At least she wasn’t in the back seat. Henry claimed the reason why he’d chosen a truck with such a large cab was so that Wolf could have the back seat to lie down and stretch out on when they went places together. The dog’s silver-grey hair showed up brilliantly against the black seats. Alicia, Liam and Grey would no doubt have to pick a few off of their clothing later.

Kerry sat up front with Sasha and Henry. Grey had made a big show of making sure Kerry took the front right passenger seat, which he claimed was the best seat in the truck.

Even now, Sasha was barely able to suppress a snort of laughter. Grey was so obviously into Kerry that he might as well start wearing a neon sign proclaiming his enormous crush on her.

“Whew,” Sasha said as Henry steered out of the parking garage, “thank God Wrightsville Beach is just a few minutes from here. I can’t wait to wade in the water.”

“We’re not going to Wrightsville Beach,” Henry said, stopping at an intersection to let a horse-drawn tour carriage roll through.

“What?” Sasha twisted in her seat in an attempt to meet his gaze, but he stared straight ahead at the road, no matter how hard she narrowed her eyes at him. “We are most certainly going to Wrightsville Beach. I spent hours making all the picnic food!”

She was so riled up at the thought of her cooking going to waste that she didn’t even look away from Henry to stare at a film set two blocks away. The street had been blocked off, and there were telltale vehicles and people everywhere. Passers-by lingered with their phones out, snapping pictures.

Lots of TV shows and movies were filmed in Wilmington, and she normally stopped to stare in hopes of spying a hot actor. Today, she couldn’t have cared less. The film set faded into the distance as she drilled Henry with fierce eye contact.

“Relax,” Grey piped up. “We’re still going to the beach. Does it matter which one?”

“Apparently it does.” Sasha didn’t remove her gaze from Henry. “If we’re not going to Wrightsville, where are we going?”

“Carolina Beach,” Henry said.

“Carolina Beach?” Sasha knew the place. It was on an island about a 20 minute drive away. She’d been there a few times before, sometimes for festivals and once to visit the aquarium at the other end of the island.

“They have a drive-on section of the beach, up at the north end. Freeman Park.”

“I didn’t know you guys wanted to go to a drive-on beach.”

“A drive-on beach means we won’t have to heft all the picnic supplies through a parking lot and down beach access steps. You packed enough to feed an army.”

“There are only three coolers.” Okay, so there were three coolers
and
a bag of plastic dinnerware, plates and napkins. And another full of the stuff that didn’t need to be kept cool. “I guess it’s no big deal though. Carolina Beach is nice.”

Well, now she knew why they’d all had to ride together in Henry’s truck – only 4 wheel drive vehicles were allowed on the drive-on beach.

The guys’ desire to go to Carolina instead of Wrightsville made sense when Henry said it out loud, with the explanation about the convenience of not having to carry heavy coolers. There was only one hole in his logic…

The guys weren’t really the type to drive an extra twenty minutes each way just to get out of carrying coolers. No, not at all. In fact, Grey would probably have relished the chance to carry one on his own, showing off for Kerry. Which meant they’d had an ulterior motive in changing locations.

When they finally got through the thick-as-mud tourist traffic streaming toward the island for the weekend, Sasha couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“So tell me, did the decision to go to Carolina Beach have anything to do with the fact that there’s only one way on and off an island? I mean, if Randy Levinson was here, he’d be easier to catch, wouldn’t he? No one’s getting through this traffic in a hurry. You guys are probably hoping you’ll spot him tanning on the beach so you can throw him into the back of the conveniently-located truck, aren’t you?”

For a few seconds, nobody said anything.

“We don’t think we’re going to see Randy Levinson here,” Henry finally said. “We chose this beach because we
don’t
think he’ll be here. We wanted to get farther away from Riley County and Wilmington, since we figure those are the two most likely places he could be.”