Body Heat. Brenda Novak
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a sigh of relief. She’d been dreaming. It wasn’t the phone. Someone was at the door.
With a groan, she rolled out of bed and went into the living room of her little one-bedroom hacienda-style house. There, she leaned against the door, squinting to see through the peephole.
It was Starkey. As usual, he was wearing his leather vest—or cut as they called it—with the patches that held so much significance for him, jeans and biker boots. His blond hair and his mustache, which was a shade darker than his hair, were longer than when she’d last seen him. He’d also put on a few pounds—but he wasn’t fat. His biceps bulged when he crossed his arms. And he had a new tattoo to add to the skull and all the others: FTW.
She didn’t plan to ask what it stood for. She already knew she wouldn’t approve.
“Give me a minute.” She hurried back to her bedroom so she could grab a robe to cover her T-shirt and men’s boxers. Then she let him in. “Hey, what’s up?”
His eyes ran over her disheveled hair, her robe, which she’d had for so long he probably recognized it from when they were dating nine years ago, her bare feet. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“I got a call from you last night. I got three, actually. But no messages.”
Three calls? She’d tried to reach him from Mexico, but she’d been out of network range…. “I was hoping to speak to Rafe, but—”
“At one in the morning?”
“No, earlier,” she lied. “Your number was in my recent call history. I must’ve pocket-dialed you.”
“Fortunately, I didn’t hear it ring, or I would’ve gone nuts wondering why you wouldn’t say anything. I was at a party and the music was too damn loud.”
She was glad of that. If he’d been aware of her calls, he would’ve been waiting for her when she got home last night, and she might’ve had to arrest him for driving under the influence. If he’d been at a party, there was no way he’d been drinking soda.
“What did you want with Rafe?” he asked.
“Just checking in, seeing how the week’s going for him.” She didn’t usually lie, and already she’d lied twice. But now that she was out of Naco, she didn’t really want to explain that she’d turned to him in her hour of need, so to speak. He’d take that to mean more than it did.
“He’s fine. At some camp with a friend. Won’t be back for four days.”
Some camp? He didn’t know which one? This was part of her problem with Starkey. He was a loving father but he didn’t pay much attention to the kind of details most parents considered important. “Which friend?” Did he know that much?
“Chase LaBreque.”
Sophia had heard Rafe talk about Chase and wasn’t so sure he was the best influence. But Rafe was being raised by a Hells Angel, so if she was worried about any example, it should be that one. Regardless, she had no right to complain. She was lucky Starkey allowed her to be involved with Rafe. He wasn’t pleased that she’d gone into law enforcement, felt it put him at risk just to associate with her. The others in the club were obviously unhappy that she was part of his life. They, too, would’ve preferred Leonard Taylor to be chief of police. Leonard was one of the good ol’ boys who turned a blind eye to certain activities Sophia was unwilling to ignore.
“Have him get in touch with me when he gets back, will you?” she said.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Thanks.” She started to close the door, but he stopped it with one of his giant paws. “Hey, wait! Guess who I saw?”
Not particularly interested, she covered a yawn. “Who?”
“Roderick Guerrero. You remember him, don’t ya?”
Of course she did. She immediately recalled the café au lait skin and dark eyes of the boy she knew in high school. They’d been in the same grade growing up. But when it came to girls, he’d always kept to himself, and she’d been more than happy to let him. He’d approached life with a belligerence that made her uncomfortable, frequently getting into fights.
But he’d surprised her once. It was during their sophomore year, his last year in school. Despite having a minimal relationship—she’d been in one class with him and knew he watched her a great deal—he’d asked if she’d go to the Homecoming Dance with him. He didn’t generally attend school dances. For one thing, he couldn’t afford it. And he didn’t go that year, either. She agreed to go, then stood him up when she got a better offer and, thanks to one particular girlfriend of hers, word of that spread all over the school.
Sophia was still embarrassed about the fact that she hadn’t even tried to contact him and that she’d humiliated him so publicly. She’d never apologized or offered any explanation, either. She’d been young and stupid and hadn’t known how to approach it. But she’d never forget the way he looked at her when he saw her at school after that weekend. She’d thought he was too tough, too mean, to be hurt. That was what she’d told herself when she ditched him. But as soon as their eyes met, she knew she’d hurt him deeply….
Those weren’t comfortable memories. Kids could be callous, and she’d been no different. Which was why she preferred to forget. But she was too curious about what Roderick might be like now to just let the subject go. “Seriously? It was Roderick? You’re sure?”
“Positive. Spotted him coming out of Bailey’s Breakfast Dive and pulled over to say hello.”
“I didn’t realize you even knew him. He’s my age.”
“He had an uncle who was a few years older—Arturo. I hung out with him for a year or two before he skipped town.”
“I never met the uncle.”
Starkey whistled. “He was one bad dude.”
Roderick hadn’t struck her as much nicer. In those days, her father hadn’t yet lost his business, his marriage or his life, so she’d been oblivious to other people’s needs. She’d been living in the idyllic bubble that had burst soon afterward and thrown her into the arms of Starkey.
“What’s he doing in town?” She definitely didn’t need this. Life was hard enough right now.
Starkey grinned. “I was waitin’ for you to ask me that. You ready?”
She tightened the belt on her robe. “Ready for what?”
“He said he’s here to investigate the UDA murders.”
Her mouth fell open. “What’d you say?”
He chortled at her reaction. “I thought you’d like that. He’s an ‘operative’ for a private security company in California. Those guys are bad asses. And they get paid the big bucks.” She couldn’t miss the twinkle in his eye that told her he wasn’t finished with her yet. “When I told him you’re the chief of police, he looked about as stunned as you do now.”
“So he’s staying longer than a few days?”
“Few weeks, at least. Haven’t you been listenin’? He’s tryin’ to steal your case.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. That’s definitely not going to happen.”
“Any chance you’d like to thank me for the notice?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Thank you in what way?”
He sighed. “Didn’t think so.”
Ignoring his reference to thanking him, she moved on to her next question. “Where’s he staying?”
“Don’t know. But it can’t be far.” He clapped his hands together. “Anyway, it’s been fun but I gotta dash. Someone’s waitin’ for me.”
She