Author: Robyn Carr
“Whew. In a few minutes, I’ll think about those dumplings....”
“Screw the dumplings. I can just live on you.”
“You’ll get very thin,” she said with a smile.
“I’ll be fine. I think we need to do that again. Right away. Before we forget how that works. Damn, baby, we were very good. I think we found what we have in common.”
They made love again, then showered together and that was just another opportunity to enjoy each other’s bodies. Then they were going to dress to go downstairs to eat but were sidetracked by the bed. By the time they got to the kitchen they were weak with hunger and drunk on sex. Eric had never made love so much in one evening in his life.
They didn’t get to the dumplings until 11:00 p.m. Laine told him she thought they were probably her best ever, but the taste and texture barely registered with Eric. The only thing he could taste was Laine and he didn’t want to forget it for a second.
They sat on the floor in the great room, in front of the fire, trays on their laps, knees almost touching. While they ate, they talked. “This is a completely inappropriate question,” Laine said, “but will you tell me about all your lovers?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “There haven’t been very many. I told you, my last girlfriend was a cute little computer nerd and we lived together for almost two years. She was special in a hundred ways, but we both knew we were temporary from the start and she dumped me last summer for someone more her type.”
“How do you know when you’re temporary?” she asked.
“You tell me, Laine. You’re not married or engaged or serious—and I can’t believe every man in America doesn’t want you for his very own. And you’re here while on leave—you’ll go back to the Bureau. You won’t work out of Thunder Point, I know that. I just refuse to think about it right now. Want to tell me about your men?”
She just shook her head. “My professional life didn’t leave a lot of room for that. I was in a few relationships, short-term, with guys whose lives were just like mine, which meant high pressure, bad hours, temporary assignments, traveling a lot. But your life is different—one business, one address, not so much uncertainty.”
“I found my love mostly in cars,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not a ladies’ man. I like women, but I was busy. Busy trying to rebuild myself. Ten years is a long time to be out of circulation.”
“You said five years....”
“Five in jail, five on parole. Ten years under a microscope. I didn’t test the rules, not even a little bit. And I was nervous about forming attachments.”
“But when you were young, before jail...”
“I was a fuck-around idiot. There’s nothing more to tell about that.”
“There’s a daughter.”
His eyes actually got a little dreamy. She couldn’t help but smile as he talked. “I got so lucky there. And after hearing those scary words one time—‘I think I might be pregnant’—I was very careful. I’m sure she’s the only one, and what a miracle. Wait till you get to know her better. I can’t believe I was a part of creating her. You won’t believe how great she is.”
“Well, Gina’s pretty great, so...”
“I must have a guardian angel after all,” he said. “What are we going to do after we finish dinner?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to go back to bed. I want to sleep with you tonight, but that’s your call. I can put on my boots and jacket and head home. I’m just saying, I’m yours tonight.”
“Then you wash, I’ll dry, then we’ll snuggle in.”
“I like that idea.”
When they were back in bed, they whispered to each other, telling little bits of their lives. It was true, they seemed to have little in common, and yet Laine hadn’t felt this compatible with another human being in her adult life.
At three in the morning, Laine woke and reached for him and his side of the bed was empty. “Eric?”
He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Shhh. Go back to sleep. I didn’t want to wake you—I was going to leave a note. My phone went. I have to go tow someone....”
“I didn’t hear the phone,” she said.
“It was on vibrate and I heard it bouncing around the nightstand. The number on the side of the truck, the number the cops have, it’s my cell number. I got a text, wanna see?”
She liked that he wasn’t private about it, hiding his text messages. She shook her head. “What’s up?”
“Big mess on Freemont Bridge near Bandon. The cops threw out stop sticks to disable a car they were chasing and ended up blowing out tires on three civilian cars that weren’t being pursued. My job is going to be easier than theirs. They’re going to have some very annoying paperwork. I texted that I was on my way.”
“Did their man get away?” she asked.
“I have no idea. I can come back. It’s up to you.”
“How long will you be?”
“That depends on how many tow trucks respond. It could be a few hours.”
“You should call me. It’s the only way I’ll know you can’t stop thinking of me.” Then she smiled just as she closed her eyes sleepily.
He kissed her forehead. “I have a feeling you’re going to be under my skin for a very long time,” he said.
Eric jogged to his station, where he covered his decent clothes with a work coverall and changed out his boots into lace-up, steel-toed work boots. Because he wasn’t sure of the terrain around the bridge, he opted for his flatbed side puller with the nine-thousand-pound hydraulic winch. If he found a car off the road or down an incline, he could get it on the truck. If all he needed to do was tow, he could manage that easily.
Lots of flashing lights along the bridge greeted him. He shone his overhead beams on the scene and got out to investigate. There were two state police cruisers along with a couple of local cop cars from a town south of the bridge. And because this was pretty close to his territory, Mac McCain was there. Eric saw two cars with flats along the side of the bridge and then, predictably, down the hill on the near side of the bridge, a large SUV flipped on its side. The driver must have lost control when the tires were spiked by the stop sticks.
He approached Mac first. “Injuries?”
Mac shook his head. “Guy and his wife in the SUV are a little shook up and she has a couple of bruises, but they exited the vehicle without incident. They’re over there, moaning and groaning about the car.”
“And the bad guy?”
“Who knows?” Mac said. “The Keystone Kops over there thought they had him. I think he pulled off the road into some trees or something and when they came peeling down to the bridge, he turned around and headed in the other direction. Stolen car. We’ll probably find it abandoned before very long.” He grinned. “All these state troopers and sheriff’s department crew look like they’re feeling pretty smug, don’t they? That’s relief you see—so glad they didn’t fuck this up. Can you get that SUV? We have another wrecker coming.”
“I got it. Where do you want that SUV to go?”
“That’s between you and the owner. We’re not impounding anything.”
“Well, let’s see what they want.”
Eric made his way over to a couple standing by the side of the road. He touched the brim of his hat. “Folks? Rough night, I see. I’m here to get your car up that hill. I haven’t looked at it yet, but it’s probably going to need four new tires and since it took a slide, I’d recommend an axel and frame check. It needs to get up on the lift and the undercarriage should be checked to make sure it’s safe. And someone should look at the body for damage. I can handle all of that in Thunder Point. Where are you folks headed?”
The man sucked noisily on a mint. “Home from a visit in Sacramento. We’re almost home. Eugene.”
Eric nodded. “I had a business in Eugene for years,” he said. “Well, I can’t take the car all the way to Eugene for you, but there are good shops in Bandon, North Bend, Coquille or Thunder Point. There’s a motel in Thunder Point—not fancy, but clean and nice. And I can take care of the car tomorrow. I can send someone for the right tires, take a look at your undercarriage, brakes and other essentials. I can even do the body work, but you might want to get closer to home for that, once the car is drivable. If so, I can get you some pictures for your damages report.” Then he ducked slightly to see the woman’s face. She was looking down but lifted her face briefly. “You want someone to look at that, ma’am?”
She just shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“Is the police department going to pony up for the repairs?” the man asked, an obvious edge to his voice.
“You’ll have to work that out with them. Why don’t I get this car up the hill while you talk to that man over there,” he said. He indicated to Mac and pulled some gloves out of his pocket. Then he lifted the brim of his hat to look at the man. “Let’s just get you back on the road.”
“You’re kind of cheerful for the middle of the night,” the man said sourly. “Big commission here?” he suggested.
Eric smiled. He was cheerful all right and it had nothing to do with the money he’d make on this tow. “I’m on call to local and county police. As a matter of fact, they woke me up from a very good dream. Now if you’ll talk over where you want me to take your vehicle and move to the other side of the road, I’ll get to work. By the time you decide where you’re spending the rest of the night, I’ll have her loaded on the rig.”
He positioned and braced the wrecker at the side of the road. Using a large flashlight, he moved cautiously down the hill. It wasn’t too rocky; he wedged a boulder out of the way. Examining the car, he found some surprising things. Only one tire was flat and though it was dark, it didn’t appear to be a puncture. There were plenty of scratches and dents, with a small amount of fuel leaking on the ground and dripping into the creek. The chances were excellent that the tank had been nearly empty, but Eric had an industrial-strength fire extinguisher handy on the chance of a spark. The car was lying on the driver’s side, so he pointed the flashlight inside the passenger’s open door and looked inside.
He didn’t think this vehicle was going to cost the cops any money.
He laid out his chains and cable, then he walked over to Mac. “Listen, it’s none of my business, but...”
Mac smiled. “What are all these folks doing out here between two and four a.m. on a back road? Curious, I agree. That young lady over there works the night shift in a nursing home and was feeling sick, so she left work early. The gentleman over there—fisherman. He wants to be on his boat by four. The couple with the SUV and back full of luggage are heading home from a visit. Seems kind of late.”
“Lots of breath mints at work there,” Eric said. “No punctured tires, wife or girlfriend with a nasty bruise...”
“She said she hit it on the steering wheel.”
Eric shook his head. “The driver’s seat’s way back. She’s not even five and a half feet. There’s paint on the guardrail, over there.”
“He said she was avoiding the stop sticks and went off the road.”
Eric shook his head. “I think if you could see and avoid stop sticks, the police would find a better option for disabling a runaway car. But this isn’t my business. You’ll figure it out....”
“But you think you know what happened?”
Eric looked upward and put his hands in his pockets. “The bruise on the woman’s face bothers me a lot. Looks like she got coldcocked.”
