He had to repeat his thanks a few times before he was finally alone behind the wheel of his squad car. The deputies who’d stopped him had seemed genuinely shocked and concerned.
Hayes’s best friends in the department, the ones willing to go out on a limb for him, might not work this shift, of course. But Zach felt sure Stokes would deliver the same message to all three briefings.
And then what? Would the perpetrators think twice? Or would they figure they were already screwed if they got caught, so they should carry the plan to its final conclusion?
Whatever that plan was.
Zach started the engine and reached for his sunglasses, ready to start his patrol.
Serve and protect.
* * *
ZACH EXCUSED HIMSELF after dinner Friday evening to make a call. Tess was a tiny bit relieved to have some space. Even if she hadn’t had doubts about his reasons for moving in, she’d still have some trouble adjusting to living with a man.
It had felt odd to come home, remembering she needed to wedge her car as close to the left wall of the garage as she could while still allowing her enough room to open her door. From then on, she’d found herself listening for Zach’s arrival the whole time she was changing clothes and starting dinner. Tonight was the first time ever she heard the garage door opening when she wasn’t the one pushing the button on the remote control.
It had taken some digging, but she’d found the second remote and even a new battery for it.
When he came in through the door from the garage and through the utility room to the kitchen, Zach smiled. “You’re making dinner already. If I can get here earlier tomorrow night, I’ll figure out something. It has to be my turn.” He kissed her lightly and kept going toward the bedroom.
Her first impression had been that he’d looked preoccupied and tired until he’d seen her. Tingling from the smile and the kiss, Tess wondered whether she’d been imagining things.
Over dinner he told her about the undersheriff’s talk at the morning briefing. “Half a dozen guys have said something about it to me since.” Zach shook his head. “So far, they’ve all been supportive. I think a few of them were embarrassed.”
“Do you think Stokes meant what he was saying? Or is he mad because you boxed him in and he had no choice but to speak out?”
Zach seemed to think about that. “He can be a little hard to read. Best guess...he was sincere, but Sheriff Brown is pissed. Stokes is pretty straight-arrow. I don’t think he’s political enough to condone any of this.”
He would have cleaned the kitchen alone if she hadn’t insisted on helping. When they were done, he went outside onto the patio to make a call.
Tess set up the ironing board in the kitchen and began one of her least favorite chores. She wondered whether his uniforms had to be dry-cleaned. Being a man, he probably took them to the Laundromat no matter what. Anything not to iron.
She caught glimpses of Zach through the window every time his pacing brought him to the near end of the patio. It was enough for her to see that the conversation was a stormy one.
Tess reminded herself the call wasn’t any of her business. And, no, she couldn’t ask him about it. He had every right to his privacy.
She saw the moment the call ended. He held out the phone and stared at it. Then, with a violent motion, he shoved it in a pocket of his jeans and thrust his fingers into his hair.
He disappeared from her sight.
It was probably five minutes later when the French door to the dining room opened and closed. Tess carefully slid the iron over a cuff. The steam hissed.
Zach appeared in the kitchen. “My mother,” he said curtly.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“If you’d rather I don’t—”
What could she do but make a face at him? “You know I’m nosy.”
He smiled but not very convincingly. “I filed a request for information at the Clear Creek PD during my lunch break today. The one detective who investigated Sheila’s death and is still on the job won’t return my phone calls.”
Absorbing his apparent non sequitur, Tess slipped the blouse on a hanger that she’d suspended from a hook at the end of the upper cabinets. “Why doesn’t he want to talk to you?”