Expired Refuge Read online

  “You even think about making a move, you tell me. Do not go in there without backup. This guy is a bad guy, Mia.”

  “It’s sweet that you care.”

  He chuckled. “I just want my paycheck. After that, I’m not paid to worry.”

  She huffed a laugh out through her nostrils and smiled at the empty room. “I should go.”

  “Don’t make me regret this.”

  “I won’t do anything without calling you. I promise.”

  “Like you promised to pay me for mowing your lawn when your dad gave you the money and left for work?”

  “I was twelve. I wanted to go to the movies.” He’d been in his twenties, home from college for the summer. Doing odd jobs.

  And he’d never once taken his shirt off when he mowed the lawn.

  Tate groaned. “I went to the church and said a prayer of thanks when you swore that oath as an ATF agent. Finally landed on the right side of the law.”

  She had been kind of…precocious as a teen. Not as much as Meena, but more than her older sister Mara. Then Mara had been killed. After that, getting her way didn’t seem to matter so much.

  She said, “You mean like the prayer I uttered when the football captain went off to college? Or when he was sworn in as an FBI agent?” Not that she had prayed, considering church and all that wasn’t really her thing. Not with the way she’d grown up. But that wasn’t the point.

  “Yeah, like that one.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Life is funny that way.” Too bad she was so busy working cases lately that she didn’t have time to live it.

  “Like a bad pun.”

  He’d wound up blowing out his knee, retiring, and becoming a local private investigator. She’d always figured there was more to the story, but since they were only friends—and not even good friends—it wasn’t her place to pry about the real reason.

  She decided to lighten this entire conversation. “Ain’t that the truth?”

  She figured she needed to either laugh about it or wind up crying. One dead sister and one as good as gone. Her career had stalled out while she stayed home and recuperated during the investigation of what had gone down. Everyone said she’d be cleared back to full duties, that the shooting had been justified.

  Mia touched the scar in front of her right ear. Self defense.

  Now she was here, wallowing in her dad’s cabin. Trying to distract herself from the fact she was stuck here without a thing to do while someone else decided her fate. The alternative? She didn’t even know where to begin, but she could start by figuring out what she would rather be doing with her life. Being a cop, even a federal one, was the only thing that had ever made sense to her.

  “How about you do what you should be doing? That’s resting, by the way.” He paused long enough she wasn’t sure he’d continue. Then he did. “I’ll make the approach, see how Meena feels about meeting up with you and let you know what she says.”

  “What about this guy she’s all shacked up with? He’s going to be okay with that?”

  Tate said, “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Sure you don’t want backup?”

  “I’ll let you know. But I don’t have the budget for a deputy, so don’t get any ideas.” He hung up.

  Mia tossed the phone on the couch beside her.

  Above the mantel was a framed picture. Herself, age nine. Standing between Meena, six, and Mara, eleven. Behind them was a Christmas tree. Last one they’d had that actually looked good, far as she could remember. The year before her mom took off. Before her dad realized he had to raise three girls on his own, with no idea how to do that.

  Mara had died the summer before her senior year.

  Mia descended into a tailspin after that, hitting junior year with a vengeance. It was a tailspin she’d managed to pull out of by reinventing herself in college. Thankfully she’d never run into any trouble with the law. That would’ve made becoming a federal agent problematic. Now she worked as an ATF agent out of the Seattle office, and it was widely known that if any of the agents ran into a teen through the course of an investigation, they should send Mia to talk to the kid. Mostly she figured the guys just didn’t want to deal with drama.

  Her sister Meena, on the other hand, had hit rock bottom right before ninth grade and never pulled herself out of it, despite Mia’s attempts to convince her to turn her life around.

  She knew where her sister was now. Shacked up with some local bad guy.

  Mia just didn’t know what to do about it. If her dad was here, or anywhere there was cell signal, then she would have talked with him about it. Which, according to him, defeated the purpose of “getting away from it all.” He had a right to know where Meena was, and if he didn’t know, then surely he at least cared about her enough to want to check in.

  He parented like he did everything else. In “his own way.” Which most of the time made no sense to anyone with no Y chromosome and part of the time seriously ticked her off. But she didn’t want to spend her vacation—recuperation—time stewing over family stuff. She should have stayed home and gotten a hotel room until they were finally done dealing with the mold in her apartment building.

  Mia shoved out of the couch.

  Shower first.

  Then food.

  After that, she’d figure out what to do next.

  Mia had wet hair and was assembling a sandwich when someone knocked on the door. A cop, if she wasn’t mistaken. No one else rapped on a door like that.

  And she only knew one cop in Last Chance County.

  She pulled the door open and smiled sweetly. “Lieutenant, how nice to see you.”

  “Liar.”

  She shoved the door closed. Conroy Barnes put the toe of his boot between the door and the jam. Any other day she’d have fought it, but she didn’t have the strength to go at it with him. Not with a messed up shoulder. “Move your foot!”

  “I just wanna talk to you.” He sounded tired.

  She pushed the door against his foot and peered out through the tiny gap. He hadn’t slept. She worked with enough alpha male cops to see he’d been up all night. Hopefully doing paperwork. She also hoped it had been mind-numbingly boring. “So talk.”

  He shook his head. “Inside.”

  “I’m not letting you in. We have nothing to say to each other.” After what he’d done to her and to her family? “You have some nerve coming here, asking for time.”

  Not to mention whatever else he wanted.

  “Mia.”

  “Don’t do that.” She knew all about him. “Don’t put this on me. I don’t care if your case got screwed up for whatever reason. It is not my fault.”

  His eyes narrowed. Piercing blue. She’d never really understood what that was supposed to look like. Until now. They were the color of that bright blue sky, so rare in Seattle. He even wore a suit. Dark blue tie with tiny gold dots.

  He said, “You don’t seem surprised I’m a cop.”

  She shrugged one shoulder and took inventory of her own state. At least she’d put on her good sweatpants when she got out of the shower. The sweater was thin and fitted, zipped up far enough it still gave him a view of her collar bones—which she’d always thought were her best asset.

  What is wrong with you?

  She’d gone crazy. Or this was some kind of torturous nightmare.

  “Mia.”

  “What?” She snapped at him, mad at herself for finding him attractive. “Move your foot and then leave. I’m busy.”

  “Doing what? I heard you’re ATF now. Is this time off? Because you should know your dad isn’t back for another couple of weeks.”

  She was so surprised she let go of the door. He got his whole foot in, along with a leg. Now she wanted to slam the door on him for reals. Ouchie. “Why do you know my dad’s hunting schedule?”

  He shrugged, looking pretty pleased with himself that he knew something she didn’t.

  “Get out of my house.”

  “Not
your house.” The accusation was clear. She didn’t belong here. “Your dad’s house.”

  “The police chief is going to hear about this.”

  A shadow crossed his face.

  She ignored it. “Get ready for a fight, because you’re inviting a world of hurt down on yourself and your precious career. Lieutenant.”

  “Don’t bother the chief.”

  Sore subject. That was interesting. “Then leave.”

  If he didn’t want her to call his boss, then he could end this right here. Before things got ugly.

  He shook his head. “Not before we talk.”

  Talk? He was all grown up, pretending to be some good-guy police officer, and he wanted to talk to her?

  “You and I.” She wanted to scream and rage at him. “We have nothing to talk about.”

  “No?” He folded the arms of his jacket across an expansive chest. Had he been that big in high school? “Meena?”

  She nearly choked. “Planning on killing another one of my sisters?”

  He frowned, but not at her. Conroy Barnes tore through her house to the back door and what amounted to her dad’s yard beyond it. “Call 911. There’s a prowler outside!”

  Mia closed her eyes. She did get her phone, but she didn’t call emergency services. Not when it was likely nothing but a deer outside.

  Instead, she sent Tate a one word text.

  Traitor.

  Three

  Conroy stepped onto the frosty grass and winced. Wrong shoes. Coming to Mia’s dad’s cabin, he’d stupidly made the mistake of wearing his nice shoes. Something he wasn’t about to think on, at least not overly much. It had nothing to do with her.

  He held his gun loose in his hands and scanned the area. Beyond the grass and the half-height picket fence was the lane that led to the main road. The back of the house faced the lane where his silver, unmarked Jeep was parked. The front of the house faced the lake, with big, wide windows that Rich told him had been the selling point on the house. Mia’s father had put all his money into buying the house at its exorbitant price, now fixing it up bit by bit as he had the cash to do so.

  Conroy had even helped with the bathroom tile since he’d done his own only a few months before.

  Shooting the breeze. Two single guys hanging out, chatting. Conroy’s parents lived in Arizona now and came to visit in the summer. When they did that, Rich tended to be absent as they didn’t exactly get along. But sure enough, when it came time to return home to their retirement house, Rich showed back up.

  That the father of the girl who’d died was the one who felt he had to retreat never sat well with Conroy. But he and Rich had made their own kind of peace with it. Between the two of them, they’d figured out how to move on. Something his parents hadn’t yet made the effort to do to get past the death of a young woman they had loved, who had been so closely tied to their son.

  He kept walking, circling the house back to the front yard and the lake shore. Eight houses were tucked in this corner of the lake, nowhere near the dock located down the shore or the neighboring occupants. Summer parties. Speed boats. Other activities that went on at the party side. Rich kept to himself, and he liked the quiet here at this end of the lake.

  Conroy spotted a dark figure, same jacket he’d seen just moments before. Just a flash of color and movement between two trees. It was gone so fast he wondered if he imagined it. Conroy stared at the spot but saw nothing else.

  He walked to the front door and tried the handle. Locked. Had she shut him out, or shut herself in?

  He rang the bell.

  Mia opened it. Her wet hair hung straight over her shoulders. The depth of her eyes was so dark brown the color bled into her pupils. Same as her sister’s, that olive-skinned, exotic beauty none of them even realized they had—that was, until Meena figured out how to use it to her advantage. Mia’s sweater fit snug against her volleyball-player figure, over dark blue sweatpants with white letters down one leg.

  “Yes?” She had her phone in her hand.

  He sighed. “Did you call it in?”

  “A prowler? It was probably a deer.”

  He didn’t give her the chance to shove the door in his face this time. Conroy pushed it open and stepped between her and the door. He holstered his weapon and folded his arms across his chest. Suit. Tie. His nice shoes.

  Conroy dismissed the idea he might have been trying to make a good impression. It had nothing to do with last night, or the fact she seriously reminded him of her sister Mara. Not in a weird way, like he was trying to get back what he’d lost when Mara had died. More like he remembered the way life was then and that junior high kid he’d known, the one who had clearly had a crush on him.

  Now Mia was all grown up, though she seemed not to have grown out of her gangly phase. She was still all arms and legs. Almost as tall as he, and that was in bare feet. He figured the guys she worked with teased her for being a “girl,” and all treated her like their kid sister.

  She looked at him, her expression like, “well?”

  “It wasn’t a deer.”

  “I’m not sure I care what it was.”

  Conroy said, “That guy you took down last night was a low-level drug dealer. We’re working to get him to roll over on his supplier. I’m poking the bear, and I doubt I’ll manage to pull this off without some form of retribution. So you need to keep your gun close…” He realized she didn’t even have it out. “Where’s your weapon?”

  “In my backpack…I think.” She shrugged one shoulder.

  “Did you call your people at the ATF?”

  “No.” She blinked. “Why would I?”

  Conroy said, “Get your gun. Keep it close, Mia. These people don’t wanna go down, they want to keep making money and don’t care who gets hurt in the process.”

  “Is that why you came here, to warn me about that guy you took down last night?”

  “No.” He’d received a very interesting call from Tate Hudson. “You wanna talk to Meena, that’s fine. But be smart. Don’t go walking in there without backup.”

  He didn’t want to know what would happen. He would wait about ten minutes max before going in after her if she did try it. Mostly he figured she’d wind up going in there…and never coming back out. Sucked into a life she didn’t want. A life she shouldn’t even know about, but probably already did, what with her experience as a federal agent.

  “My relationship with my sister has nothing to do with you.”

  He winced. “I know this town, and I know the players involved in this. You don’t want to get caught up with them.”

  She studied his face for a second, those dark eyes assessing him. “Is it this ‘boss’ you’re trying to take down?”

  “I have no evidence to back up my theory but, yes, that’s what I think.”

  “It’s my sister we’re talking about.”

  “I know. I just want you to be careful.”

  “Why do you care? I’m a grown woman and a federal agent. Also, last time I checked, I was a free citizen of this country.”

  “Last Chance County is my jurisdiction. Unless you’re working a case.” Which he knew she wasn’t since Tate confirmed she was home on leave. Recovering. He saw it in the way she moved. “You’re hurt. This is not the time to stir something up. You need to be on your A-game for that.”

  Mia moved to the kitchen area, about ten feet from the entryway. A sandwich sat plated on the counter.

  “You should eat. I should go.” His stomach rumbled, probably because he’d only had coffee so far today.

  “I don’t need protection.” She lifted her gaze. “But thanks for the warning.”

  He’d have said “friendly warning.” She probably didn’t think that was what this had been. Truth was, he cared about her. It had to do with his connection to her family, but also because of his job.

  “Like I said, my jurisdiction.” He looked at the back door, where he’d seen someone moving around outside. “If you hear or see anything, call it i
n.”

  There had been a man outside. Whether that had to do with Iceman’s boss, he didn’t know. Whether it was or not, it wasn’t worth the risk of Mia being caught injured and off guard.

  He pulled out a business card from his wallet and moved to her. “My cell is on the back. Please use it if you think you’ve seen someone. You have cop instincts, and I’m going to trust those. But I want you to call.”

  She didn’t take the card.

  Conroy tossed it on the counter. “You need a reference? Fine. Your father called me…about six years ago now. Someone slashed his truck tires. I helped him through that and caught the kids responsible. They’d been gearing up to more serious crimes. Namely, putting your father in the hospital.”

  “What. Why?”

  Conroy said, “Dispute over stupid stuff—road rage escalated. Your dad pushed it and they didn’t back down. Then they turned it back on him. So he called me.”

  “And you helped him. Caught the kids who were responsible.”

  That was what he’d said.

  “And he let you.”

  Conroy said, “Yes.”

  She planted her palms on the counter. “Probably figured you needed to earn his trust back, so he gave you the chance when there was nothing big at stake.” She swiped his card off the counter, turned to the cupboard under the sink and tossed it in the trash. “I don’t need your brand of help.”

  “This could be serious. Someone was outside.”

  “Who?”

  “I didn’t get a good look at him. Dark jacket, hood up.”

  “Probably one of those kids you saved my dad from.”

  “It wasn’t.” They were all in county jail.

  “I don’t need your problems coming around here. I have enough going on.”

  She’d been hurt. That much was clear by the scar down her face, an angry red scratch. Now it was light, he could see it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought last night. But it was still bad. “Tell me what happened.”

  She jerked her head back. “It’s none of your business. Just leave, Conroy.”

  Not “lieutenant?” Now he was Conroy, and she looked like she was about to cry. Which, considering the alternative, might be good. He’d rather that than her screaming at him. He could try and help her, and she might accept it instead of him having to leave.