Scratch the Surface

I liked this man with the sad eyes. Perhaps they didn’t always look that way, but he knew now, without question, that Jeremiah Wolfe was never going to be his, was, in fact, mine, and had made that paradigm shift in his head. I could respect being honest with one’s self.

“So—” He took a breath and walked to the opposite side of the bed, then put his hand on the duffel. “—his laptop’s in here, and everything from the bathroom. My aides put that stuff in a garbage bag so nothing would leak on his clothes and computer. And that’s it. Nothing from the kitchen or living room was salvageable. The bedroom is gone, so I hope he wasn’t attached to the bedding or anything else.”

I did too.

“Now, he mentioned something about moving out of Barrett Crossing, but I hope he’s not thinking of leaving The Mission.”

“No, he’s not,” I assured him. “He loves the kids, but I think he’s had enough of the town.”

“I can’t blame him.”

“Can’t blame who?”

The man who had walked into the room and asked the question looked like he belonged on a movie poster. Handsome in that way where you caught your breath, with chiseled features, dark-tanned skin, eyes that appeared almost black in the afternoon light, and thick brown hair that was, at the moment, sort of artfully messy. I couldn’t imagine who he was or what he was doing in Jeremiah’s room.

I managed to squeak out a “Hello.”

McCauley wasn’t as articulate. Noticeably overwhelmed by the man who, on top of everything else, was built tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, he barely managed a strangled huff of air.

The stranger slipped by McCauley, came around the bed, and offered me his hand. “I’m Detective Aguilar with Sac PD, and I just wanted to come by and check on Jeremiah.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Detective.” I shook his hand. “I’m Cameron Gallagher. Jeremiah explained what happened with Shawn Pelham, and I can assure you this was a completely unrelated incident.”

He nodded, releasing my hand. “Oh, I know. I talked to an Officer Kramer with the Barrett Crossing PD this morning. Like I said, I just wanted to make sure Mr. Wolfe was in one piece, and to let him know another of Shawn’s friends had their apartment tossed last night, so it appears they’re still looking for what they didn’t find at Shawn’s place.”

“Well, Jeremiah’s apartment just went up in smoke,” I informed him, “so if they find out he was acquainted with Shawn and decide to ransack his place, they’re going to come up short.”

“It’s possible they might want to seek out Mr. Wolfe to ask him some questions.” I caught my breath, and he instantly shook his head and put up his hand to calm me. “I said might, because after speaking to Mr. Wolfe, I know it’s a stretch. They weren’t friends.”

“No, they weren’t,” I agreed.

He pulled out his wallet and passed me his business card. “If you see anything or anybody you think looks weird or outta place, you gimme a call. I’ll check it out and determine if he needs protection.”

“Thank you,” I replied hoarsely. “I’m sure it won’t be necessary to call, but I do appreciate your concern.”

“Listen.” Detective Aguilar took hold of my shoulder and squeezed it firmly but gently. “The men who are looking for Shawn and, more importantly, whatever he took, need information, and if they’re as thorough as they seem to be, I truly don’t think Jeremiah’s in any danger.”

I nodded quickly.

“But again, you have my card; don’t hesitate to call and check in with me.”

“Thank you, Detective.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. The man had a definite presence that made me feel safer.

His smile showed me the true color of his eyes as the light glinted in them, a deep teak brown. “You’re very welcome.”

He turned then, moved back around the end of Jeremiah’s bed, and faced McCauley.

“I normally wouldn’t have spoken so freely in front of someone I don’t know, but I was informed you’re the ADA on the Barnum case.”

“I…yes,” McCauley muttered, holding out his hand.

Aguilar took the hand in both of his, which most people didn’t do, but I had always found especially warm. “If you have some time now, I’d like to bring you up to speed on the case that Mr. Wolfe has found himself a part of, and perhaps you can share with me the specifics of the freak accident at his apartment.”

“It would be my pleasure, Detective.”

I thanked McCauley as I followed him and the detective to the door so I could close it behind them, but not before I checked on them as they made their way down the long hallway. Being a romantic at heart, I thought it would be sort of star-crossed, or fated, if Detective Aguilar ended up being exactly what McCauley needed, both personally and professionally, and I had to smile in the midst of the chaos over such a whimsical notion.