Page 20 of Hold a Candle

Jamie went to the back door, opened it and set the bags in on the seat as far as he could reach across. Then he motioned to Pauley. “Yer son has shotgun so we’ll make do with the rear.” He grinned at her.

Pauley climbed into the tall truck and Jamie was more than interested in the shape of her cute bottom in the snug jeans when she bent over. His pulse rate shot up a notch until he saw her shudder. “Ye must be cold from standing out there on the side of the road,” he remarked as he got in. He scooted closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders, half expecting her to object.

“Aye, it was chilly in the wind,” she agreed, but she didn’t try to move away. She seemed to enjoy his warmth.

In the front seat, Dal was plying Luca with questions about his job at the shelter and the two young men seemed to be hitting it off like a house on fire. Bad analogy, but he had to give Dal credit. The lad had an easy camaraderie with people that drew them in, even when he was being the rascal Angus accused him of. He could see why the kid had a reputation for always having one girlfriend on hand and shopping for a new one at the same time.

Beside him, Jamie could feel Pauley relaxing. The stiffness was leaving her slender body, although the pulse rate beneath his fingers on her wrist was fast. Was it his closeness? Or the near miss from the fire bomb of her house? He hoped it was him because he was certainly aware of her body tucked against his. He laced his fingers through her hand and squeezed gently. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either.

Good.

With the two young men talking in the front seat, Jamie was content to just hold Pauley close. She didn’t speak and neither did he, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It just felt right.

***

BRODIE MACALISTER WATCHEDthrough night vision binoculars from his vantage point near the head of Meadow Ridge Road. He hadn’t dared to follow MacBride and Peterson out of the city because he would be too visible, but he figured they were trying to hide the kid away. Lucky for him, he’d put a tracker on MacBride’s car a long time ago in case he might need it. And on the kid’s truck too. He also had a tracking program loaded on the kid’s burner phone. There was no way he could hide from him unless he turned the phone off, and he was under strict instructions never to do that.

He and MacBride had never gotten along—she was an uppity bitch. Being partnered up with her had never set well with him and Tannock knew it. With the chief flat out refusing to split them up, he’d finally escalated his personal goals and left the department. Bile still rose in his throat when he dwelled on it though.

As he watched them pull into a copse and park, his vengeful thoughts were all he had to occupy him because he couldn’t see a damned thing through the trees.

He’d been the senior partner in their duo, but that hadn’t mattered to MacBride. The bitch had been like a bulldog with a chokehold on his neck. Always questioning his methods when it was none of her business, and pointing out the law he knew better than she did. He did things the way he wanted to, and if that meant shades of gray between the legal and nonlegal side of things, then so be it. It was for the greater good after all, it got the results he thought were necessary.

Pulling his jacket up around his ears, he pulled a package out of his pocket and popped a ball of bubble gum in his mouth. Chewing gum helped him think. The bitch hadn’t liked that either, and he’d taken great delight in popping bubbles during stakeouts because he knew it annoyed her. She thought she was too good for him from the very beginning.

Trying to be friends with benefits with her hadn’t worked. She’d brushed him off like yesterday’s stale t-shirt from the very beginning. Because of her, he’d left the police station in his rear-view mirror before he really wanted to, but he still came out ahead of her. Aberdeen station and the drug task force had taken him right in.

The lights on the upper road caught his attention, and he figured whoever it was must be coming to meet her and Peterson. Florence Hoppner, Peterson’s old partner, had told him earlier today that Mica was being reassigned to Pauley, which had suited her fine. Florence hadn’t liked Peterson any more than he’d liked MacBride.

Of course, she didn’t like her new partner either, Detective Anier. He could care less about that, Anier was an idiot. He doubted even Florence could make him into a decent detective. Still, she was a good source inside the Inverness Police Station when he needed scuttlebutt that no one else would pass on. Plus, they thought a lot alike with regards to seeing justice served to the low-lifers.

When two pickup trucks finally turned into the copse, he could see the familiar green pine tree emblem and read the name on the doors through the powerful binoculars. They were from Heaven’s Gate Estates. That meant they worked for Darro MacCandish at Neamh. The man didn’t do things by halves. Still, two pick-ups, and he was sure the men inside were armed, were overkill as far as he was concerned. His lips curved downward. Neamh was difficult to get into, but not impossible. Not for someone like him anyway.

His thoughts turned to Ruskag. Who would have thought the kid would be able to take out Tommie like that? Ruskag must have gotten really careless and over confident. No big loss, the man was a pimple on the butt of humanity anyway. He’d deserved to get popped.

The faint sound of engines on the wind had him raising his binoculars again to see the trucks leaving. They turned to the right out of the copse, and Peterson’s squad car behind them turned left. Peterson flew past the brush and saplings he was ensconced in, headed towards the lights of the city.

Smirking silently to himself at his own pun about Ruskag, Brodie put his binoculars back into his backpack and made his way back to his motorcycle hidden in the shadows.

Satisfied with his night’s work, he straddled his sleek Ducati Streetfighter V4 motorcycle and started the engine. With 1,103cc V4, 208HP, and 6 Speed manual power, his baby was powerful, superfast on the streets, and worth every pound he’d spent on her. She purred between his thighs like a hungry woman and he caressed the seat in front of him.

“Ye are my black beauty, aren’t ye, honey? Always waiting for me, ready to go at a moment’s notice, and no backtalk.”

With a low growling rumble, they slipped away into the night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to make contact with the kid. Right now, he had an appointment with the idiot who had fire-bombed MacBride’s house. He had a little reward for him.

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