Shroud of Roses. Gloria Ferris
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principal now and taught math at the old building. He’ll have a better handle on the dates you’re interested in. Maybe.”
Neil wrote the name down. “I’ll talk to him, thanks, Bernie. Good night.”
The red light on his cell flashed. Cornwall again:
BNG WRNT
He didn’t dare ask Thea what the shorthand meant. He stepped out of the warm building that housed the municipal offices as well as the police service. The snow had tapered off, but the wind off Lake Huron cut right through him. He fastened the ear flaps on his fur-lined hat. Only four o’clock and it was almost dark.
If there was any place more desolate than Bruce County in the winter, he hadn’t found it. No wonder most of the retired townspeople stampeded to Florida right after Christmas and didn’t return until April. The rest kept a few cases of beer in the fridge, gassed up their snow blower and snowmobile, and waited it out. Some days, he asked himself why he didn’t go back to Toronto where he wouldn’t have to fight his way through mountains of snowdrifts for four months of the year.
Before taking the chief of police position in Lockport three years earlier, he had worked the Drug Squad in Toronto, where he regularly witnessed grisly death and general mayhem. Here, he investigated stolen lawn ornaments, grow ops, highway carnage — and a few murders.
Neil decided to stop at the Chin Chin Restaurant to buy dinner before driving to Cornwall’s house on Morningside Drive. It was a safe bet she wasn’t cooking. While waiting for his order, he tried once more to decipher her cryptic second text message. This time his brain filled in the missing vowels. Warrant. She wanted him to bring a warrant?
He felt a sudden stirring in his groin. When the food was ready, he pushed money into the owner’s hands and hurried to the Cherokee.
CHAPTER
four
I took a cheese puff out of the bag and let it melt on my tongue. Just as I reached for another, someone tried to open the kitchen door behind me. Fortunately, I had locked it earlier.
A heavy fist slammed against the metal. I stood up, taking my time. I ate the last two cheese puffs, savouring every morsel. The hammering continued as I licked the pseudo-cheese off my lips, folded up the empty bag, and dropped it into the trash can. Then, I went to see what all the fuss was about.
I opened the door and looked up. Yes, exactly what I ordered: one big, blond cop. A white carry-out bag from Chin Chin’s dangled from a gloved finger. Perfect.
He leaned his muscular six-foot two-inch frame on the jamb and pulled on the right ear flap of his mad trapper hat. “I understand you’ve been robbed, ma’am.”
“Yes. Yes, I have, Officer. I’m extremely traumatized.” I placed back of wrist to forehead and fluttered my lashes.
“Sorry to hear that. What did the suspect take?” He cleared his throat and unbuttoned his coat.
“All my clothes are gone. As you can see, Officer, they left me nothing but this white, lacy thong.” I opened my robe, flash-freezing my ta-tas and throwing my high beams on.
He blinked at the thong, go figure. “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am. May I come in and initiate an investigation?”
I held my ground. “Do you have the warrant?”
He moved closer, forcing me to back away. “I don’t need one. I suspect a crime has been committed on these premises. Please step aside and close the door, ma’am. I am officially freezing my ass off.”
“In that case, I guess you can come in.” I locked the door behind him. Taking the bag of food, I set it on the counter.
He dropped coat, boots, and socks on the floor, and kicked them aside.
“My goodness, Officer, you still look terribly overdressed. Here, I’ll help you out of your clothes, but leave that sexy hat on.” The hat flew across the kitchen and landed on the stovetop. “No? Do you need help with the belt?” The thing had multiple safety releases, likely meant to protect a peace officer in a risky situation such as this. I could only find two of them.
He deftly pressed a clasp and sixteen pounds of equipment clattered onto the kitchen table. “Where’s Rae?”
“In Owen Sound with her sister, Christmas shopping. What’s this thing on your belt? Did you get a second gun?”
“It’s a Taser. I’m the only one authorized to carry it.”
I had always wanted to shoot a Taser. “Can I hold it?”
“No.”
“I just want to see how it works.”
“No”
“Just show me …”
“No.” He took off his pants and shirt and covered the belt with them.
I added my robe to the pile. “Wow. You do have a second gun, Officer. I hope you don’t plan to use it on me.” I ran my nails down his chest and watched the muscles contract.
With shocking haste, his Jockeys came off. “That depends. Right now I need to inspect the scene of the alleged crime.”
“That would be my bedroom. It’s this way. I see you’re bringing that gun. Good idea. You never know what may be hiding in the closet. Or under the bed.”
He gave the bedroom a perfunctory sweep with his navy-blue eyes. “Are you sure this is the right place? I don’t see signs of a disturbance.”
“I assure you, Officer, I don’t have a stitch left.” I whipped off the thong and threw it. He caught it and tossed it over his shoulder. “But, I’m so upset, I may be confused. We can look in the bathroom if you like. Perhaps the shower?”
“Later. I’ll search the bed first.”
He tossed the decorative cushions on the floor and threw aside the duvet. Before I could save myself, he swept me up in his arms and dropped me on the bed.
He jumped in beside me and pulled the duvet over us both. “Start at the beginning. Leave nothing out.”
“Well, if you insist, Officer. I’m sure it won’t take long.”
Seven minutes later, we sounded like a couple of asthmatics as we sucked in air and expelled it. I could feel Redfern’s heart banging against my chest.
“You sweated all over my bed. I just changed the sheets yesterday. Now I’ll have to do it again.”
He ran his finger between my breasts, then held it in front of my eyes. “What’s this? Sweat?” His tongue traced a path from the hollow under my ear, along my collarbone. “Yes, I believe it is. The sweat of a thirty-two-year-old female; five foot two inches, one hundred and ten pounds; crazy, multi-coloured hair; deep brown eyes tilted up at the sides, with criminally long lashes that make men go weak at the knees; perfect lips that, when opened, exude words that will one day land her in jail, or find her fleeing from an angry mob of relatives and neighbours; a small cleft in the firmly-set chin…. By the way, what’s your real hair colour?”
“Are you serious? What kind of a detective are you?”
Redfern pulled me closer. “That’s not a given. I’ve seen …”
“I don’t care to hear what you’ve seen. I’ve been thinking. Can you be a fireman next time?”
He drew his head back. “No. I can rustle up a real fireman if you want one. But I refuse to watch.”
“I understand. You want a ménage à trois. I’ll get back to you on that. I’m starved. Are you?”
“I need a shower first.” He checked his watch — what, was he running behind? Twenty minutes to do Bliss, including a shower? “I appear to be covered in orange finger marks. Have you been eating cheese puffs again?”