And then there’s Miller.
I wished Cletus and I had been given a moment to discuss Farmer Miller and Elena, and what conclusions Cletus had drawn after Mr. Leeward’s offhanded statement. I could guess, but I wanted to hear his theories, discuss possibilities, listen to him talk, watch him think, kiss his face, touch his body, have him touch my—
Okay, sex fiend. Settle. Think about football, or wounds, or paint drying, or something else unsexy. Here I sat trapped, incarcerated for my father’s murder, and I’d spent most of the time daydreaming about being alone and naked with Cletus and what I wanted him to do to me when we saw each other next. It’s true. I needed to accept it. I was a sex fiend. Oh well. Being a sex fiend for Cletus was better than being a murderer.
On Wednesday, I’d talked Evans into passing Cletus a note. Evans promised me he would. Therefore, I was especially anxious Thursday morning, for Evans to start his shift, hoping Cletus would respond, but also since my time in holding was drawing to an end, one way or the other. My lawyer—and the pack of legal experts Sienna had sent—informed me I couldn’t be held for longer than seventy-two hours without charges being filed. With time winding down, they either needed to move forward with arraignment or let me go.
Speaking of Sienna’s legal experts, as far as I knew they were still in town and had vowed to remain, putting pressure on the sheriff’s office. I don’t think they frightened the sheriff any, but Evans had said they’d terrified the heck out of Florence McClure. She’d had to go home early on both Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons with a headache.
Thursday morning, Evans slipped a response from Cletus inside a to-go container from Daisy’s.
“Daisy says hi and hang in there,” the deputy had said with a wink, giving me a thumbs-up before leaving me to my breakfast and correspondence.
I chuckled at his encouragement. Really, these guys were too cute sometimes.
As soon as he left, I opened the box. Despite the mouthwatering aroma of sausage and biscuits with preserves and a big old Boston cream doughnut, I picked out the folded piece of paper first, setting the food to the side and hungrily opening Cletus’s note.
I was not disappointed.
Dear Jenn,
I’m lost without you. But don’t fret. Beau rented an RV and I’ve been in the parking lot all day and every night. We’ve been close this whole time, just a few feet apart. Could you feel me? I confess, I could not feel you and my whole being mourned the loss. My bones feel brittle, like they can’t hold my weight. And I’m so tired.
I’ll rest and there you are, smiling, the brilliance of your soul shining through your exquisite eyes, your soft skin beneath my hands, your sweet taste—
I had to lower the letter for a moment to catch my breath. Goodness. How easily he could twist me up with just words. Vaguely, I wondered if the RV had a bed.
Y’all don’t need a bed.
I fanned myself with the letter, wondering if—when this was all over—we might be able to rent an RV and travel a little. Continuous close quarters with Cletus sounded lovely right about now.
Before I could finish reading, the sound of approaching footsteps had me folding the letter quickly and stuffing it in my bra. Hurriedly, I reached for my breakfast, shoving half a biscuit into my mouth just as Genevieve rounded the corner, dressed in a black business suit and wearing a perturbed expression.
“They’re releasing you,” she announced, her eyes sliding to the side, to somewhere I couldn’t see. “The cute deputy is handling the paperwork. Ms. Diaz can send her pack of lawyers back to New York and Los Angeles.”
I stood, bringing my breakfast with me and talking around the biscuit, “Which cute deputy?”
Genevieve sorta smirked. “The one who looks like a young Derek Luke.”
“Oh.” I nodded, finally able to swallow. “Boone.”
“How are you holding up?” She looked between me and the impressive breakfast. “Any complaints?”
“Other than wishing I were out of here, living my life? Uh, no. Not a single one.”
“Yes.” Her intelligent gaze swept over me. “I can see why. Your own cell, separate from everyone else in lockup. A real mattress”—she lifted her chin to the bed behind me—“with sheets, blankets, and pillows.”
“I think this is the cell the deputies usually use for naps,” I explained. “That’s what Evans said.”
Genevieve’s perturbed expression returned, like she resented my treatment had given her nothing to argue about. “I’m glad they’re being kind, you shouldn’t have been arrested in the first place. I’ll be filing a complaint against the arresting officer.”
“Don’t do that. It’s almost over, and Boone was only following orders. And, like you said, he’s cute.”
“Him being cute doesn’t excuse a superfluous arrest.” She seemed to grow an inch taller, a swirling and crackling of scheming and strategy behind her eyes. “I’ll make him sorry.”
“What if he said sorry instead and took you out to dinner?” I picked up one of the breakfast sausages and took a nibble.
Genevieve’s razor-sharp gaze cut to my face and she inspected me, saying, “I don’t date law enforcement. Conflict of interest.”
“That’s too bad. Boone is not just cute, he’s a great investigator, super smart, and a solid human. Maybe you should make an exception.”
As I spoke, her eyebrows slowly pulled together, like the phrase making an exception was not in her vocabulary. “I do not subscribe to bending rules, Ms. Sylvester,” she said finally. And yet she sounded just a wee bit uncertain, like my suggestion had tempted and confused her.
I shrugged, trying my best not to smile at her consternation. “Well now, that really is too bad. I wouldn’t have this nice meal here if someone hadn’t seen fit to bend a few rules. Sometimes, when it doesn’t hurt anyone, a little rule bending can be fun. By the way”—I lifted the breakfast box to her—“do you want a doughnut?”
To my surprise, Jethro was the one to pick me up from the station and drive me back to the homestead.
“Cletus would be here if he could,” the oldest Winston brother assured me. But I wasn’t assured until, once we were out of the station, he added quietly, “It’s something to help your momma, time-sensitive, and real important. Kind of a now or never sorta thing.”
Feeling a little better, but still anxious, I almost missed the big RV sitting in the lot, parked closest to the wing of the building where the main lockup was housed. I grinned, my heart flooding with warmth. Cletus hadn’t been facetious in his letter; he really had stayed in an RV the whole time.
I can’t wait to see him!
We made it to the homestead three years later. No, it didn’t take three years, but it sure did feel like it. During the drive I decided, after setting eyes on Cletus and kissing his face off, I would need to go see my momma. She was probably worried sick. Truth be told, I’d been surprised she didn’t come to the station. I thought for sure my being arrested would’ve snapped her out of her daze.
“Oh, look. He’s already here. He made record time.” Jethro pointed to Cletus’s Geo as he cleared the trees of the Winston’s winding driveway. “I expect him to be in the carriage house. Billy is at—”