In The Arms Of The Enemy

Everyone seemed to think Cole Pierson was the greatest guy ever. What would they think if they knew what she knew? That he was a lying SOB and possible drug dealer...or undercover cop.

A burst of rain pelted the window next to the bar and Cole whistled. “I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

“It’s bad out there.” She dug for some cash in her purse, so she could pay and be on her way as soon as Bud came up with her order.

“Linda told me you didn’t have a car here yet and you walk all over town.”

“It’s not bad.”

“Except on a night like this. Can I give you a lift to your place? Even though it’s not far, you’ll get drenched walking that half mile.”

Her jaw tightened. “Linda told you where I live?”

“She mentioned it was lucky the other side of the duplex she and her sister own was empty when you came to town.” He leaned in close, his lips brushing the wet strands of her hair. “I’m not trying to move in on you or anything. I know you’ve had a rough time of it.”

She blinked against the tears pricking her eyes. Was he referring to the brawl she’d apparently had with Johnny Diamond in the hotel room, or her manufactured past with the abusive ex? Cole’s soothing tone almost made her want to confess everything to him. Almost.

She squared her shoulders. “Linda gossips too much. I dumped a jerk—nothing I can’t handle.”

“Thatta girl.” A wide grin claimed his face. “Don’t let the bastards bring you down.”

“Here’s your change, Cole.” Bud swept up Cole’s plate. “Your food will be up in a minute, Caroline.”

Cole pocketed his cash. “So, how about it? I’m parked right out front.”

She wanted to tell him to take a hike, keep his questions to himself and mind his own business. But that would make him even more suspicious, and maybe Linda had convinced him that she was really her cousin in need of a fresh start.

“I’d love a ride, thanks. If it’s not too inconvenient.”

“No problem at all.”

Bud returned with a bag hanging from his fingers, and then twisted his head around to look at the TV mounted above the bar. He called to the other bartender. “Denny, turn up the volume. It’s a story on the Johnny Diamond murder.”

A chill raced down Caroline’s spine, but she kept motionless.

Cole tipped his head back to take in the TV monitor. “I heard about that—found the guy with drugs and a car with a dead body in the trunk.”

Her dinner still dangled from Bud’s fingertips and she wanted to scream at him.

Cole asked, “Was he a local boy?”

“Diamond? No, but he ran with a local motorcycle gang, the Lords of Chaos.”

The sounds around Caroline receded and she felt like she was spinning through a vacuum. Larry. LC, the tattoo on Johnny Diamond’s neck, stood for Lords of Chaos. Timberline had been Johnny Diamond’s destination, not hers. Or maybe it had been hers, too. Nobody seemed to recognize her here, nobody except Cole Pierson, and for him her identity was all speculation.

“Do you think he was on his way here when he was killed?”

Bud hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know. I hope not. Timberline has had enough trouble with the Lords.”

The story ended. Denny turned down the sound and Caroline could breathe again—almost. “My food?”

“Sorry.” He placed the bag on the counter. “Napkins and utensils inside.”

She handed him a twenty. “Thanks, keep it.”

Cole rose from his stool before she did. “Ready?”

“Uh-huh.” She looked at Bud’s curious expression and said, “Cole’s giving me a ride home in the rain.”

“Good idea. Have a good night.”

Caroline turned, hugging the bag to her chest. So now if Cole murdered her and dumped her body in the woods, someone would connect him to her disappearance—and she was only half kidding.

She preceded Cole through the restaurant in thoughtful silence. Was the revelation of Johnny Diamond’s connection to a motorcycle gang news to Cole or was he a member, too? She could always check his body for tattoos—and she was only half kidding about that, too.

As he opened the door for her, she slid a glance at his hand and the wrist revealed when his sleeve rode up. No tattoos there and she hadn’t noticed any on his neck.

He opened his umbrella. “Here, get under. I’m just one door down.”

A small sedan flashed its lights and beeped once, and Cole held the umbrella over her head while she climbed into the car. When he slammed the door, she did a quick survey of the console and the backseat.

No weapons and no dead bodies. Things were looking up.

He opened the driver’s side door and collapsed his umbrella. As he slid onto the seat, he tossed the soggy umbrella in the rear. “Whew. This is a deluge. Even with your umbrella, you would’ve been soaked to the bone.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He started the car and then turned to look at her, studying her profile. “Glad to do it.”

“Straight ahead.” She pinned her hands between her bouncing knees.

“All the way at the end where the businesses stop?”

“Yes.”

The car crawled through the flooded streets, and Cole hunched forward. “You’d think a town in Washington would do a better job of drainage.”

“Timberline’s old.”

“The influx of money from Evergreen Software should start going toward the town’s infrastructure.”

“Linda says it’s helped a lot.” Caroline tapped on the window. “Up ahead on the right where the two yellow lights are.”

Cole pulled into the driveway she didn’t use. “I’ll get the door for you.”

He pulled his umbrella from the backseat and unfurled it before getting out of the car. Two seconds later, he was opening her door, holding the umbrella over her head at great expense to his own well-being.

As she groped for the keys in her purse, he stayed right by her side, keeping her dry. When she made it to the covered porch, she pulled him up next to her. “You’re drenched.”