He wanted to kick himself for the times he’d shamed her for smoking. Instead, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and waited until she looked at him. “Next time you feel like smoking, find me. I’ll satisfy your craving a different way.”
She pressed her forehead to his and smiled. “Promise? Because some days I get a whole lot of cravings.”
He flattened her hand against his chest, over his still aching heart. “I promise. And I’m a man of my word.”
Chapter Seventeen
West herded his wandering mind away from a fantasy involving Roxy, ice cream, and handcuffs and looked over to where Shaun sat behind the wheel of the police car. His boss had just said something to him, but he’d been too deep into his own head to catch it. “Sorry, what?”
Shaun raised a brow. “I said, thanks for taking on new recruit outreach with me.”
“No problem. Although I can’t believe the Commander’s kid is old enough for the academy.”
Shaun nodded as he steered them down Route 11 toward Richmond. “Cadet Eden Brixton turned twenty-three this past February. She’s fast as lightning on her feet, one hundred percent dedicated to her training, and she can shoot the balls off a target thug at one hundred yards, according to her instructors.”
“Sounds like her father’s daughter.” A mental image of their SEAL team leader, Commander Noah “Brick” Brixton formed in his mind—all six feet six mountainous inches of him, complete with shaved head and formidable frown. The vision suddenly sprouted long hair and lipstick. He couldn’t hold back a shudder.
Shaun didn’t miss it. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just…I’m having a hard time envisioning a female version of Brick.”
“You don’t have to imagine.” He took one hand off the wheel and dug around for the file folders he’d tucked between the driver’s seat and the console. “Here.” He held one out.
West took it and leafed through the personnel file for Bluelick PD’s newest recruit, pausing when he saw her cadet photo clipped to one corner.
“Holy crap. That’s Brick’s daughter?”
“Yep.”
He studied the hazel-eyed, dark-haired Rihanna ringer a moment longer, finding a few chips off the old Brick in her direct gaze and serious expression. The accompanying data sheet confirmed her credentials. “Graduated Summa Cum Laude from Vandy last year with a degree in Criminology, and solidly in the top of her class at the academy. Is she sure she wants to join a small, newly established department? I haven’t had cause to draw my gun, much less shoot the balls off anything, the entire time I’ve been here. This fact makes me happy, but I’m not a twenty-three-year-old rookie looking to live up to big daddy’s badass reputation.”
“Brick might have asserted some influence on our behalf,” Shaun conceded, “but she sounds eager to kick off her law enforcement career in Bluelick. Great timing, as it happens, because Sheriff Malone just confirmed they’ve seen an uptick in misdemeanor marijuana possession all over the county in percentages similar to the ones we’re tracking. Although he can’t prove it yet, he suspects his predecessor might have accepted certain incentives to look the other way. I don’t disagree, given the data. Malone is game to put together a joint operation to infiltrate the organization, find the grow house, and take down the whole supply chain in one fell swoop.”
“An unknown face would definitely be useful,” West said, “but do you want a lone rookie spearheading an undercover op?”
“She won’t be alone.” Shane exited Route 11 and followed the sign for the State of Kentucky’s Department of Criminal Justice Training. “Malone wants to team our pick with one of his incoming rooks. That gives us two undercover officers watching each other’s backs.”
“So, we pair Brixton with Malone’s choice, set them up with a plausible backstory, and see if they can find the source?”
“That’s the goal. As a side benefit, a successful joint operation will send a message to the wider community that whatever bad blood existed between the Sheriff’s Department and us is a thing to the past.”
Given the history—collusion between the county’s former sheriff and Bluelick’s former mayor had been the impetus for Bluelick establishing its own police department—a display of effective teamwork would signal a new era of cooperation and respect between the entities. “It’s hard to argue with success. Puts a lot of weight on the shoulders of two rooks, though. That partnership has got to work on an interpersonal level, or the entire effort could backfire. Has Malone said who he’s considering?”
“He has someone in mind.” Shaun turned onto Lancaster Avenue and drove toward the main entrance of Eastern Kentucky University, which the DOCJT called home. “We’ll see. Speaking of things working on an interpersonal level, what’s the situation with Roxy?”
“No situation.” West faced front and stared at the road. “She’s working at DeShay’s, performing at Rawley’s, and teaching the Stevens girls to play guitar.” Making my place smell
like honeysuckle even when she’s not there. Making my bed feel half empty if she’s not in it. Making me wonder what the fuck I’m going to do when she leaves. “More importantly, she’s keeping her nose clean while she’s at it.”
“She seems to have settled in pretty well. Celebrated her one-month workaversary at the diner, I heard, and she’s put in almost as long at the pub.”
West heard the question Shaun embedded in his observation. Although they were within minutes of their destination, he wasn’t sure he could successfully duck it, but he planned to try. “’I guess she’s ‘pretty well’ settled in the sense that I haven’t had cause to pick her up for hitchhiking, trespassing, indecent exposure, or driving without a license in the last few weeks. But ‘settled’ isn’t a label I’d stick on Roxy. She’s got a wild streak a mile wide.”
His boss navigated into the Funderbunk Building parking lot and took a space facing the brick and glass entrance of the DOCJT. “I know she didn’t find her way into town under the best of circumstances, but it looks as if she’s tamed the wild streak quite a bit since. Addy says she shows up to work on time, with a smile for everyone. Always ready to lend a hand whether by helping Mrs. Van Hendler find her car after forgetting where she parked or convincing Frank Swann to try Truvia in his coffee instead of sugar for the sake of his diabetes. She puts on a hell of a show at the pub. Even stingy old Earl admits Jeb made a good call hiring her to perform. I’d say she’s fitting in just fine. In fact”—Shaun turned off the engine and released his seat belt—“I’ll hazard to guess a lot of people hope she stays.”
Yeah. Shaun could add him to that list, West silently admitted as he exited the cruiser, even though he knew better than most the hope was a slim one. The hardline realist inside him replied, “That’s not her plan.”
Shaun started for the entrance. “Maybe she needs a new plan.”