Sweet Burn (11 page)

“Sheriff Hernandez has filled us in on what
’
s been happening in Strong. It seems not unlikely that Sol Herring may be in the area. We can put you in protective custody,” the voice on the line offered like it was a simple choice.
Red wine or white?

“Absolutely not.” She hadn
’
t done anything wrong.

“Alternatively, if Sheriff Hernandez has the resources, we could ask her group to have an officer keep an eye on you.”

“Like a tail?” She tried—and failed—to imagine that one. As far as she knew, the entire Strong police force consisted of Sheriff Hernandez and two part-time deputies. While she was sure Sheriff Hernandez was a perfectly lovely person when off-duty, she didn
’
t need the woman glued to her backside.

The Oakland guy droned on, explaining how this hypothetical police officer could watch her house. Watch her. Imagining Sheriff Hernandez forced to camp out in her bar was amusing, but hardly good for business.

“
Not happening,
” she said, interrupting the flow of explanations.

Just possibly, Mercedes Hernandez looked relieved. The Oakland DA signed off, leaving them to it.

“So what are our other options?” Mack slouched in the seat beside her. Sheriff Hernandez hadn
’
t questioned his presence. Unfortunately, that probably meant the rest of Strong had also decided she and Mack were a couple. Wow. If only they knew. They
’
d laugh themselves sick if she told them about last night
’
s conversation in her living room and Mack
’
s proposal.

It might not have been her first, but it had definitely been her shortest.

And her sweetest.

“Do you have family you could go to?” The way Sheriff Hernandez looked down and then back up, Mimi was betting that the good sheriff already knew the answer to that.

“
You tell me,
” she said, more calmly than she felt. That was the problem with playing the star witness in a murder trial. Even though she hadn
’
t done anything wrong, her personal life had still been dissected and recorded for all posterity in some DA
’
s dusty files.

“You
’
re from Illinois.” The sheriff tapped the file in front of her. “You moved out to California when you were twenty and show no signs of leaving. You must like it here.”

“Or I
’
m broke and don
’
t have the plane fare to go somewhere else,” she suggested sweetly.

“Can you go back to Chicago?”

Mack
’
s hands found a knot in her neck and rubbed. Who knew the quickie proposal came with spa benefits?

“I
’
ve lived in California since I was twenty,” she said. “I think it
’
s pretty clear that I can
’
t, not in the sense you
’
re suggesting.”

“
You can
’
t celebrate Christmas early?”

She held the other woman
’
s gaze. “
I don’
t go back for Christmas, Thanksgiving, or any other holiday, major or minor. I haven
’
t seen or spoken with any of my Chicago relatives since Auntie Belle
’
s funeral. You do the math.”

Mercedes Hernandez looked pained. She probably celebrated all of the major holidays with dozens and dozens of relatives. Mimi had had those kinds of numbers, although she sincerely doubted her extended family had ever been closer. Maybe it was upbringing. Maybe it was genetic makeup. Whatever the reason, the night she
’
d eloped with her second cousin, the cheerful façade of family togetherness had come crashing down. She and Eddie had gotten married in an Elvis chapel. They
’
d shared a wild, crazy car ride back to Brown and she
’
d failed to sneak him into her dorm. The family had found out and all hell had broken loose. Eddie had a trust fund. She hadn
’
t signed a pre-nup agreement—and her branch of the family tree was apparently one of the poorer ones.

Too fucking bad. She hadn
’
t wanted a dime of Eddie
’
s money. She
’
d only wanted Eddie. And she
’
d had him—for four whole days until Eddie
’
s parents had lawyered up.

“Don
’
t or can
’
t?”

“
I won
’
t. Anything else is my business, not yours.”

“Right.” The sheriff closed her eyes briefly like she was counting to ten. Or one hundred. Mimi knew she had that effect on people.

“So what do we do with you?”

“Nothing.”

She meant it too.

“It
’
s not your job to make decisions about me. I
’
ll be just fine on my own, like I always have been. Now that I know Sol might be in the area, looking to stir up trouble, I
’
ll keep my eyes open. Believe it or not, but I have vested interest in
not
dying. I
’
ll do my best to keep it that way.”

“But you won
’
t relocate, you won
’
t go into protective custody, and you won
’
t accept an armed guard.”

“She
’
ll accept me,” Mack growled.

***

It being early April, fire season hadn
’
t officially started yet. But winter had been dry and they
’
d already had one bad fire in January that had threatened the state
’
s water reservoirs. He and the jump team were already on call. In all likelihood, he
’
d be jumping in weeks if not in days. He couldn
’
t promise to stick by her side twenty four/seven because, when Jack
’
s call came in, he
’
d go up.

That was his job.

And yet the words came out anyhow.

“She
’
ll move in with me.”

The dead silence that met his claim was frustrating. Dropping into the chair next to Mimi, he reached out and threaded his fingers through hers. She could be as prickly as she wanted, but he wanted her safe. Moving her somewhere new would get her off the gang
’
s radar for a bit. Chicago would be better, but his place would also do.

“No,” Mimi shook her head. “That
’
s ridiculous. We hardly know each other. I
’
m not moving in with you.”

She could damn well get to know him. He was looking forward to it.

“He knows where you live.”

Sheriff Hernandez nodded slowly, clearly thinking things through. The woman had a sweet, Madonna-like face that probably got people to confess all their troubles right before she did her job.

“You
’
re a smoke jumper. You
’
re not jumping yet?”

The sheriff was new, only on the job for the last three months or so. She hadn
’
t had the pleasure of meeting the full jump team yet.

“You bet,” he said. “I
’
ve got a place over by the hangar the team works out of. We
’
re doing practice runs now.”

“I
’
m a big girl,” Mimi said, shoving to her feet. “And I
’
m not the one who
’
s committed a crime here. You don
’
t get to arrest me and you definitely don
’
t get to tell me what to do.”

“Mimi.” Her name came out as more of a rough sigh than anything else. Yeah. Mack wasn
’
t happy. That appeared to be his usual state of mind when she was around. “Come home with me.”

“No,” she said. “I
’
m staying at my own place. Not yours, not anyone else
’
s.”

Mimi had tried avoiding Mack since his offer to play house with her. Because that was what he
’
d been suggesting. It was a nice game, a fun time, but real? Not so much. Unfortunately, Mack made it hard to ignore him. Whenever he hadn
’
t been stuck to her side during the last two weeks, he
’
d sent another jumper to keep an eye on her. She felt like she was living under a microscope. A sweet, overprotective, smothering microscope. She needed to clear her head.

She needed to ride.

There was almost no better feeling in the world than flying over the roads on her Harley. Chocolate, winning, sex… nothing else stacked up. Okay, so sex with Mack did, but that had been a one shot deal. The Harley was forever.

She
’
d learned to ride the hard way, hopping a bike one day in an all-in moment. It had come natural, however, and she
’
d come up from San Francisco with nothing but her bike and two saddlebags. Someday, she
’
d sell the bar and drive off. No fuss, no muss. That day wasn
’
t today, however. Mack
’
s face flashed through her mind. Yeah. She imagined he
’
d have a thing or two to say about that. Fortunately for her, Joey was her babysitter tonight.

Joey and she had shared more than one midnight ride. He was a speed freak with more than his share of demons riding his shoulders. And, since he
’
d spent the evening helping her re-paint the bar, he was perfectly sober and therefore exactly the companion she needed right now. He was a fellow wild child. Big, dark-haired and tattooed. She loved his ink, the stories behind each design. Funny how they
’
d avoided using each other for sex. She didn
’
t know what his story was, but Joey lost himself in sex the same way she did, and they
’
d had an unspoken agreement from day one. They wouldn
’
t do that to each other. Everything and everyone else, though, was fair game, although he
’
d recently turned his attention to Mercedes Hernandez.

She smiled slowly at Joey. “You up for a ride?”

“A ride? Or a race?” His answering grin said he had her number.

“Loser buys pancakes at the Blue Lou
’
s diner.” Strong
’
s solitary diner had the best blueberry pancakes she
’
d ever tasted. She was pretty sure she
’
d packed on an extra five pounds from those pancakes alone.

“We
’
re going to get into a world of trouble.”
Joey
’
s grin got bigger.

Joey wasn
’
t wrong—but she also didn
’
t care. “It
’
s a free world.”

“With rules,” he pointed out, but he was grabbing his jacket as he spoke.

“You think we
’
re going to get busted?” She excelled at not getting caught.

He shrugged. “The good sheriff may be keeping her eye on me.”

The twinkle in his eyes said it all. That and she
’
d seen him staring at Mercedes Hernandez when the woman had been off-duty at the bar. The two of them were polar opposites, but clearly she wasn
’
t one to talk. She was lusting after Mack and that was a recipe for disaster. He wanted to get
married
. He
’
d probably been joking, but he
’
d still put the question out there. She doubted Mercedes had marriage in mind when she looked at Joey. More like twenty years to life, because Joey pushed all the good sheriff
’
s buttons.

“She won
’
t let you off just because you
’
re cute.”

The slow smile lighting up Joey
’
s face was magic. “That
’
s what I
’
m hoping.”

“You want her to arrest you?” She
’
d lived in San Francisco. She
’
d seen it all, right? Joey didn
’
t seem like the kind of guy who
’
d find cuffs appealing, but she wasn
’
t going to judge.

“I want her to look at me,” he said.

“Really? While she reads you your rights?”

He shook his head. “That
’
s my problem, not yours.”

“Keep it your problem,” she advised. “
I don’
t want to get arrested.”

She
’
d been arrested once before, for a sit-in protest at City Hall. That kind of arrest had been practically obligatory when you were a San Francisco resident, but she hadn
’
t enjoyed the experience at all. She
’
d remember for the rest of her life those plastic cuffs biting into her wrist and the nonchalant, don
’
t-give-a-shit look of the cop doing the arrest. It had been useful, though. She knew now that there were some lines she couldn
’
t cross because even she couldn
’
t live with the consequences.

She grabbed her keys and her jacket, tucking her license and a five into an inside pocket. “Ten mile loop. Here to the lookout point and then back.”

Joey turned and headed for the bar
’
s door.
“Lock up here. You
’
re on.”

***

In the last two years, Mimi had spent hours riding the roads that covered the mountains surrounding Strong. At night, in the dark, everything narrowed to the star-lit carpet of the night sky and the thin ribbon of asphalt unwinding in front of her. She couldn
’
t see past the edge of the road, where the mountainside dropped down with lethal intent. A wicked chorus of crickets warming up for summer assaulted her ears when she slowed and the roar of the wind in her ears stopped. She loved looking at that night sky. Maybe if she
’
d paid more attention during her one semester at Brown, she
’
d have been able to name some of the brighter points gleaming overhead. In the end, it didn
’
t matter much. She knew what she knew, and it wasn
’
t like she had to figure out which way was north. The highway was well-marked.

They put the town behind them, flying over the sweetest stretch of highway, part straightaway, part deadly curve. When the road dipped, they drove the bikes hard and fast over those stretches, whooping and yelling.

April nights were still cool and she was grateful for her leather jacket and jeans. Part of her bad ass look was just for show. She
’
d be the first to admit that she liked raising eyebrows and standing out had always been her first choice. People didn
’
t look too closely—or try to get too close—when you looked like trouble.

She rode.

Away from town, to town. It didn
’
t really matter as long as she wasn
’
t sitting still. Staying put. Joey tore past her, pushing his Harley in a burst of speed, and she felt a burst of affection for him. He was wearing a black leather jacket, his long legs encased in black jeans that ended with a very sexy pair of motorcycle boots. His ripped T-shirt advertised an underground metal band that crashed warehouses and staged impromptu concerts. He wore a small silver hoop in his ear, the jewelry somehow underscoring how large and masculine he was, rather than the other way around. Shoot. It would have been so much simpler if she could have taken him to bed. Instead she was chasing Mack—or he was chasing her—and Joey was running after the completely unattainable Sheriff Hernandez.

She gunned the motor and glanced over her shoulder at Joey.

Sucker.

He
’
d slowed down on that last curve and now she was winning.

He bellowed something as she sped up. She didn
’
t catch it, but he could ride faster if it was important. After all, Mack had ridden her ass all day.
You shouldn
’
t go out alone. You want me to take that trash out for you? I
’
ll lock the front door. You wait for me to go first.
Because apparently the Molotov cocktail had not only singed her dance floor. It had also shut down her brain.

Did she see the guy? Would she recognize him if she did?
No, she didn
’
t know what Sal
’
s henchman might or might not look like.

Would she recognize the car?
Well, if it was a navy-blue sedan with the business end of a handgun pointing out the window in her direction? Absolutely. Next time she
’
d make a point of scribbling down license plate numbers. Maybe she could go all MacGyver and trace the numbers in the dirt or on the back of her hand with some dirt and her spit. Yeah. She liked that last one.

Bring it on.

She checked her mirror. Joey was coming up behind her fast, as if he might intend to pass her on the curve. Ballsy. And he was assuming she
’
d stay in her lane. She grinned and twisted the right grip towards herself. He could kiss her ass.

With a whoop, she sped up into the turn.