Page 98 of Falling for Her

I inhale. “Well, let’s get the fuck out of here. I still have to drive home.”

Martinez starts the car and makes his way back to the office, where another box is waiting for him at the door. “Those motherfuckers,” he hisses, stopping the car, putting it in park, and swinging the door open. The car is still running as I watch him open the box. He immediately pitches it in the air and kicks the shit out of it.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say it wasn’t a friendly gift,” Johnson says, looking over her shoulder at me. “Listen, I know you’ve got a long drive. If you want, you can take my couch for a couple of hours.”

“Thanks, but I have to get home.”

“One of these days you’ll take me up on that offer,” she mumbles, getting out of the car. She stops to talk to Martinez before continuing to her car.

Martinez slides back behind the wheel as I get out.

“What was in the box?” I ask.

“A fucking alarm clock with a note that said, ‘Ticktock, I guess you are late.’ When I find out who the fuck is playing both sides, I’m going to rip them a new asshole and then break their fucking face.”

I just nod.

When I get in my truck, I text Captain and Cathy before pulling out of the parking lot.

Me:

Another bust. Going home now. Call in later.

I pray my mind doesn’t go to her as I make the two-hour drive home, but when I let my guard down and relax, it always does. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her. Two weeks since I’ve kissed her. Two weeks since I felt like I could breathe. Every fucking morning, I expect to wake up and not feel the void, but it gets fucking worse with each passing day.

When I arrive, I drag my feet up the steps and open the door. The stillness of the house hits me right away. When Asa isn’t here, I dread being in this fucking house.

She was here three weeks, and it was more alive than it’s ever been. Now every single time I turn around, I picture her standing there before she drifts away, back into my memory. And I’ve got the next forty-eight hours off work.

My bedroom is the worst place in the fucking house. Her smell on my pillow is almost gone, and I fucking hate it. I take a shower before sliding into bed, hugging the pillow, searching for a lingering trace of her scent as I drift to sleep.

By the time I wake up, it’s almost 4:00 p.m. I turn over on my back and put my hand on my chest, blinking the sleep out of my eyes before heading downstairs to the coffee machine. I make a coffee and go to sit outside on the deck, where, of course, I think of her.

I grab my phone and dial.

Maggie answers after the second ring, “Hey, Burke.”

“Hey. Is Asa available?”

“He’s not. He’s back at Charlie’s place, riding that horse again.” I smile at that piece of information. “He’s been there every day this week.”

“Okay, have him call me when you pick him up.”

“Will do,” she agrees.

I disconnect and call Captain, who answers after two rings.

“Hey,” he says, and I hear the door shutting on his side, “you home?”

“I am.” I pick up my cup and look over at the tree house. “So, the third time we got a tip, and when we show up, it’s fucking crickets.”

“The tips are all from different sources. Could be they’re planting information out there. But my gut says there’s someone inside feeding information.”

“Yeah, that’s what I think too. And we know it’s not us. But I don’t want to start making accusations about other agencies without knowing, right?”

“I agree. We got a report from the hospital this afternoon. Twenty kids showed up in the emergency room from tainted ecstasy pills that were passed out at some house party.”

“What the fuck?” I shake my head.