Midnight Crossing (Josie Gray Mysteries #5)

“No, sir.”


They both stood and she watched him pick up his phone and slip it into his back pants pocket. Josie was five-foot-seven, and Moss was slightly shorter than her, although he made up for it in cowboy boots with a custom high heel. His body was shaped like an inverted triangle, with large muscular shoulders and biceps and a narrow waist. His build, coupled with a significant underbite, had gained him the nickname Bulldog with the local law enforcement.

Before he left, the mayor admonished her once again to be vigilant. Josie texted Otto, Look out. Bulldog’s got a bone.





TWO

Josie arrived home in time to change clothes and make it back into the kitchen before Nick pulled up in the driveway. She’d told her mom six because Nick was arriving at five-thirty, and she wanted time to warn him about their dinner guest before she arrived. Dinner was already made—vegetable soup in the Crock-Pot that she’d turned on when she woke up that morning. It was about as homemade as Josie could muster: frozen vegetables, chunked up potatoes and carrots, beef broth, and roast beef from a can. Nick claimed it was his favorite soup, either because he was a nice guy or because he had simple tastes. Either way, Josie was fine with it.

Josie met him at the front door, where he carried a loaf of French bread and a six-pack of Killian’s Red. She smiled at the sight of him. It had been two weeks since he’d been able to visit, and she’d missed him more than she had realized. He wore a pale yellow summer-weight button-down shirt and jeans with well-worn cowboy boots. His hair was black, military-cut, and he carried himself with the same confidence and purpose as a street cop. When he noticed her standing at the door he smiled back at her, and the floor tilted beneath her. She’d never felt such an intense physical attraction to anyone else, not even Dillon, whom she’d dated for so many years.

She pushed the door open and he walked inside, laid the bread and beer on the floor, and wrapped both arms around her in a tight hug. He put his mouth beside her ear and whispered her name. “I lay in bed every night for two weeks and imagined you lying beside me. I thought about you on stakeouts. I thought about you instead of my job.” He pulled his head back and looked into her eyes. “You are one dangerous lady.”

She grinned, feeling her body temperature spike as blood rushed to her cheeks. “I missed you too.”

He laughed at her simple response and kissed her hard. He ran his hands up under her shirt and pulled her tight against his body. She finally pulled away slightly and said, “I have something to tell you.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on her hers. “That phrase never brings me good news.”

“It’s not necessarily good,” she said, “but it could be a lot worse.”

“Does this mean we’re not skipping supper and heading to bed?”

“You’re very intuitive.”

He dropped his arms and grabbed the beer and bread off the floor, heading into the kitchen. “Give it to me straight.”

“My mom’s here. In Artemis.”

He dropped the items on the kitchen counter and turned back to her, appearing as shocked at the news as she imagined she had.

“Is she here? In your house?”

“Not yet.”

He looked like he wasn’t sure what to think. “That’s good, right? You haven’t seen her in a long time.”

She smiled and turned on the oven to heat the bread. “It’s been a long time. Yes.”

“Did you know she was coming?”

“I got back from a call this afternoon and found her in the office at the PD, smoking a cigarette.”

He laughed and Josie finally smiled at the absurdity of it.

“Are you going to see her tonight?”

Josie glimpsed the clock on the stove. “She’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”

At that moment they heard a car pull into the driveway and someone honked several times. Nick grinned. “That’s her, huh?”

“No doubt.”

“Do you want me to go so you can spend some time with her?”

“No. Stay. I need all the support I can get.”

Josie walked outside to greet her mom. She had on a different outfit but it was the same combo she’d worn earlier—a short skirt and tight T-shirt. She had pulled her hair up into a messy bun behind her head. She looked a decade younger than she was until you saw the wrinkles and dark age spots on her hands and face. Josie tried to imagine her own self in twenty years, and wondered if she might be facing the same upheaval as her mom. She mentally vowed to be patient and kind.

“It’s good to see you,” Josie said.

“You too, darlin’!” she cried. She held up a bottle of wine in each hand, and then noticed Nick walk outside. “And who’s this handsome man behind you?”

“This is Nick Santos. A good friend of mine,” Josie said.

“Well, Nick. If you’re a friend of Josie’s, you’re a friend of mine,” she said.