Almost thirty minutes later, she skidded to a stop on the dark empty road, her headlights shining on a sign that said she was leaving Cholla County.
This was it, the end of Grady’s tether. If she kept going, she and her problems would be out of his hands. He’d get his county back and she’d get … sad. Very sad. And lonely. Heartbroken probably. Miserable definitely. Not to mention that she’d miss her family. And Aunt Millie. Chester, too. Maybe even Mississippi a little. Probably her mother a little … or not.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she yelled, pounding her fist on the steering wheel with each curse.
Running away was not the answer. Running away would only hurt the people she loved.
She let out one last curse and then turned around in the middle of the road, heading back to the hot mess she’d left behind.
The closer she got to Jackrabbit Junction, the more her chest ached. She needed more time to come down from today’s heaping plate of shit-aroni, but where could she go where nobody would be able to find her? Sleeping with the head of the sheriff’s department made disappearing a challenge worthy of a magician’s hat and wand.
She sped past The Shaft and continued on toward Yuccaville, trying to think of an empty lot where she could park for an hour or two without being disturbed. Unfortunately, Claire’s Jeep was as well known among Grady’s men as Katie’s Volvo, so Yuccaville was out.
A crossroads sign up ahead sparked a memory—and then an idea. She slowed and turned off on the dirt road Grady had taken her down months ago.
She bumped along slowly, trying to remember where the second turnoff was. There. Up ahead. She turned and drove for a few minutes until she reached the spot he’d taken her to the night he told her he wanted to make their relationship more public—his new house.
Technically, it was only the location where his new house was going to be built later this year. Right now, all that was there were stakes topped with white or red flags.
She parked between two flags and killed the engine. Silence filled her world, interrupted only by sporadic gusts of wind.
“Honey, I’m home,” she whispered, and then the dam burst behind her eyes. “Stupid tears!”
It took her a couple of minutes to empty her tank, the weight of her worries leaking out through her tear ducts—Lyle’s bullshit, Elizabeth’s games, the diamond killer’s threats, Mississippi’s warnings, Grady’s frowns, her mother’s scorn, Claire’s obsessions, Katie’s craziness, Chester’s … what? Her tears stopped. Apparently, that was all she’d been storing up for the time being.
Whew! The ache in her chest had finally eased. She mopped up her cheeks with Claire’s flannel jacket and rested her arms on the steering wheel. Outside the windows, the desert breathed in short bursts, making the Jeep shudder, cholla cacti and greasewood bushes shake, and the tumbleweeds roll.
She killed the lights, breathing easier in the silvery light of the moon. She leaned her head on her arms and closed her eyes. Returning to her yoga schooling, she focused inward and released breath after breath of tension and frustration until she fell asleep …
A tapping sound made her jerk upright. Her heart fluttered in her throat. What was that?
She looked out the passenger-side window.
Grady stood on the other side, his stony profile lit by his pickup’s headlights. He pointed at the lock. “Open up, Veronica.”
Jumping Jehoshaphat. She couldn’t escape the law in this county no matter how hard she tried. With a tired sigh, she unlocked the door and sat back in the seat. She felt too spent to be angry or embarrassed at being found in her hiding spot.
He opened the door but hesitated. “Mind if I join you? It’s cold out here.”
It was chilly in the Jeep’s cab, too. How long had she been asleep?
She motioned him inside. “It’s your future house.” She started the Jeep to warm up the cab again.
He slid the bucket seat back as far as it would go and settled in next to her, his knees bumping up against the handle on the dashboard. Then he stared out the windshield.
She waited for the lecture to start from his side of the cab. When it didn’t, she followed his lead and stared out the window, too, enjoying sitting in the dark next to him.
“It smells like beer in here,” he said finally.
No surprise there. The front of her bra had been soaked as much as her shirt. “You want to give me an old-fashioned Breathalyzer test, Sheriff?” she teased, making kissing noises.
He chuckled. “For starters, yeah. Then I want to take you home and to bed.”
“You do have a nice bed.” Very soft and full of him sans the badge, but before she let her thoughts wander any farther down that road, she was curious about something. “How did you find me out here? Do you have some sort of tracking device on Claire’s Jeep?”
It wouldn’t surprise her if Mac had installed something to protect Claire. Or maybe Mississippi had planted a bug on it without Claire’s knowledge. The FBI might deem it as a necessary precaution to monitor all of Ronnie’s family. Damned busybody government spooks.
“It’s not on the vehicle, it’s on your phone.”
She scowled. “You’re tracking my phone? Listen, Grady, just because I’m sleeping in your bed doesn’t give you the right to monitor me twenty-four hours of the day.”
He leaned the seat back as far as it would go and put his arms behind his head. “It wasn’t me tracking you.”
“Then how is it that you are the one here with me?”
“I drew the short straw,” he joked. “Kate is monitoring both you and Claire. She set it up on
