Ramsey Rules Read online

  Bailey pushed off his desk. “Listen. I’m going to go and get the tools. You can stay here or if you want something to drink, there’s a Keurig in the breakroom and about a hundred different pods to choose from. It’s been a real disappointment of mine to discover so many of my cops like flavored coffee.”

  A bubble of laughter lifted the corners of her mouth and the faint smile remained until Bailey left the office. When he was gone, Ramsey hoisted herself out of the chair and stretched her legs. She was feeling crampy from her run because she’d gotten in the car without cooling down. She wondered if there was anything besides coffee in the breakroom and went to see if she could find a bottled water.

  As it turned out, the fridge was stocked with sugared and diet soda, flavored water, Gatorade, Vitaminwater, and green bottles of San Pellegrino. Shaking her head, amused and a little dismayed, Ramsey located the plain bottled spring water packed in the crisper drawers. She took one out, left a note that she owed the kitty a buck, and returned to Bailey’s office.

  The chief regarded her selection approvingly when he came in. “I guess you saw the refrigerator.”

  “It was a revelation.”

  “That’s one word for it. Abomination would be another.” He set the plastic pouch of tools he was carrying on the desk and checked his watch again. “Won’t be long. Do you mind if I attend to some reports?”

  “No. Not at all.” Ramsey’s key fob was attached to a flexible wristlet that she wore when she went running. She removed it and set it beside the tool pouch. “So you have it,” she said. “Would you like me to wait somewhere else while you work?”

  “Absolutely not. Just sit. Relax.”

  It was surprising to Ramsey that she was able to do it. She didn’t pick up her phone to distract herself, didn’t shift her gaze around the office, didn’t fidget her feet or tap her fingers on the arm of the chair or press the tips against the curve of the water bottle until it crackled. She just sat. Relaxed.

  When Sullivan entered the station, he saw Bailey look up from his desk and wave him forward. He wondered why the chief raised an index finger to his lips in the universal sign for quiet until he got close enough to see that he had a visitor.

  Sullivan opened the door carefully and only wide enough to allow him to slip inside. There was an audible click when he shut it, but the sound was the tradeoff for silencing the hum and rumble of voices in the outer room. He cocked an eyebrow at his chief, pointed to Ramsey, and mouthed the word sleeping.

  Bailey nodded and pointed to the tracker device tool kit and Ramsey’s wearable neon green key fob attachment. It took a few more gestures before Sullivan nodded that he understood. Bailey slid the tools and the fob toward him and sent him out. Sullivan went as quietly as he’d come.

  Ramsey never stirred.

  39

  Sullivan was attempting to set the dash plate in place when someone tapped at the window. He gave a start, saw it was Ramsey, and grinned. “You can open the door. My hands are full.”

  “I see that. Going around to the other side.”

  Sullivan managed to balance the dash on the column and unlock the passenger door from his side. “If you’d slept a little bit longer, I’d be done.”

  “That was embarrassing. I think a snore is what woke me up. The chief is too much of a gentleman to say.”

  He lifted the dash plate into position and applied equal pressure to each side until it snapped into place. Satisfied, he sat back. “That’s it.” He pointed to one of the cup holders in the console. “There’s your tracker.”

  Ramsey stared at the black box a moment before she picked it up. It wasn’t as big as the palm of her hand. A couple of thin wires were still attached, and a small rectangle of red double-sided tape had been applied to one side. “What’s the tape for?”

  “Helps to keep it in place. There’s a second piece of tape that hides the indicator lights that shows the tracker is working. Jay was being cautious. You might have seen the lights flashing and wondered about them enough to take your car to the dealer.”

  “After going to all the trouble, you’d think he would be more careful about showing up suddenly. I thought it was pure dumb luck that he spotted my car when I was at your house, but the trail? He shouldn’t have done that.”

  “He’s desperate, don’t you think?”

  “Desperate? Jay? If he is, it’s an adrenaline rush.”

  “If he is, it’s dangerous. What did he say when he caught up with you at the trail?”

  “He wanted to know about the phone call to Finch. I put him off. I lied and told him it didn’t happen. I said it was rescheduled for tomorrow.”

  “He believed you?”

  “Uh-huh. I can’t recall ever lying to him before. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t think I’d dare.”

  “What did Mr. Finch have to say?”

  “Are you off duty? I’m just asking. I can tell you about Finch later.”

  “Yes, but I’d like to shower and change.”

  “Did you get my message?”

  “Um. No.” He started to go for his phone but she stopped him. “It was voicemail, not a text. I figured you were busy when I called.”

  “I had the phone on vibrate. Never felt it. Another overdose.”

  “Paint job?”

  He nodded. “I’ve got the task force on board now.”

  “Good. You feel like takeout at my place? That was the message.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll bring the takeout. How about ribs?”

  “Excellent. Text me when you’re in the driveway.”

  “I will. And so you can be on the lookout, Jay’s driving a pearl white Nissan Rogue with a PA plate. The chief tracked that down today.”

  “I wonder why he didn’t tell me.”

  “My fault. I said I would do it. He probably thought you already knew.”

  “Well, I know now. I didn’t pay attention to the cars in the trail lot. I was concentrating on getting to my door without Jay stopping me.”

  “Good for you.” He held out his hand for the tracker and snatched a kiss when he leaned in to get it. “Here’s your key.” He took off the plastic key ring and dangled it in front of her. When she made a grab for it, he managed another stealthy kiss.

  Minutes later, Ramsey was still smiling as she exited the station.

  As promised, Sullivan sent a text when he was in the driveway. She was ready for him at the door, having showered and changed from running gear to a nubby pullover sweater the color of oatmeal, skinny jeans, and thick socks. Her damp hair was pulled loosely behind her head and secured with a clip. She hastily removed the clip and pocketed it before relieving him of one of the bags he was carrying. “I set us up in the kitchen. My dining room turned into an office a long time ago. Office, by the way, is euphemism for hoarder space.”

  Sullivan had seen the room before on his way to the kitchen. He barely noticed it now. He was watching heavy waves of her hair settle into place at her back. “It’s not so bad,” he said politely.

  “Liar. I bet you had to suppress a shudder.” She placed her bag on the counter. “Bring your bag here. We’re not eating out of Styrofoam. I have plates and real utensils.”

  “I see. Napkins too. Once we put this out, it’ll be just like you cooked.”

  “That’s what I was going for. Have to stuff the bags and containers in the trash for the full effect. You want to get out a couple of beers and light some candles while I plate this? Mugs are in the freezer getting frosty and the matches are in the junk drawer at your hip.”

  “Done and done.”

  Ramsey dimmed the recessed lighting before she came to the table. When Sullivan rose to hold out her chair, she resisted the urge to wave him back down and accepted graciously.

  “That was nice,” she said when he was seated again. “Jay used to do that in public. Never once in private that I recall. Thank you.”

  “Thank my mother. If you could, I mean. It’s her influence.”

  “
Then I do thank her.” She forked some greens and a slice of cucumber from her salad. He’d chosen Italian dressing for her, which she appreciated. He had ranch. She thought about things she had ordered before and realized he’d remembered. She appreciated that too. “That bowl between us is for the bones, and I got the damp finger wipes from the bags.”

  “I see that.” He ignored his salad and went straight for the ribs, tearing off a tender piece from the half-rack and raising it to his lips. “Am I drooling?” he asked. “I think I might be drooling.”

  “Maybe a little around the edges.”

  He chuckled and took a bite. “Heaven.”

  They were halfway through their meal before Sullivan mentioned Finch. “Are you going to tell me what he said?”

  “Nothing that will surprise you. He told me he’d do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it, and I said I wanted to think a little longer. I’m pretty sure he was relieved. I don’t know what he heard when I was talking to him, but I think he was suspicious that something was wrong. Maybe it was all my questions or the fact that I’ve never asked for that much money at one time. I didn’t even withdraw that kind of money when I bought this house.”

  Sullivan’s eyebrows lifted. “Wait. You have a mortgage?”

  “No, but this property isn’t worth half a million and my attorney closed the deal while I was still in Maryland.”

  “Oh. Okay. That makes sense. A lottery winner with a mortgage does not make sense.”

  “It might if I only won a million.”

  “Sure, but you won more than that. Considerably more, I’d guess. It isn’t the amount of money that Jay wants from you that is troubling you. It’s that he wants any money at all.”

  “True. I can probably hold him off another day or so. Did you give Chief Bailey the routing numbers?”

  “I did. He called in a favor and hopes to have the information in the morning.”

  “And if it’s an out-of-country bank?”

  “Jay’s going to be arrested regardless of where the money’s going, Ramsey. An overseas bank suggests he’s planning to flee, but it’s not proof. We have the tracker. You’ll have to file a complaint with details about him showing up here last night. We can add stalking. Then there’s the matter of a call to Willow Garden Health. That’s more or less the nail in his coffin.”

  She took a deep breath and released it slowly as she nodded her understanding. “How long?”

  “A couple days. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Is it wrong to feel so relieved?”

  “No. A tad premature, maybe.”

  “Right. It’s not over yet.”

  “I brought some things so I could spend the night. I left that bag at the door.”

  “Oh, so that wasn’t dessert.”

  “Depends on your definition.”

  She laughed. “Then by all means, stay the night.”

  They finished dinner and the cleanup without another mention of Jay Carpenter. Ramsey asked about the OD and learned there were actually two. One survived because a friend was looking out for him. The other was found in his bedroom by his mother when she got home from work. He’d been dead for hours. At first his mother thought he’d been overcome by paint fumes, but when she couldn’t rouse him, shaking him revealed the drug paraphernalia. He’d been to rehab twice. It was as depressing a story as it was familiar. Sullivan and another member of the drug task force had collected the evidence. The lot number on the paint can matched one of those that Ramsey had given him. They ended that discussion there.

  Sullivan also owned up to making a couple of routine traffic stops, which Ramsey believed weren’t so routine any longer, considering the number of officers nationwide who had been shot doing the same thing. Hearing about it, she managed to suppress a shiver.

  “Buddy pulled the gig at the elementary school, talking to kids about bicycle safety. I was supposed to go with him and hand out helmets, but I had the lightbulb run.”

  “Seems like an odd time of the year to talk to kids about bikes,” she said, curling up beside him on the couch. “Halloween’s just a week away. The Ridge is putting up Christmas immediately after.”

  “So you blow past Thanksgiving?”

  “More like we overwhelm it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen that. The helmets that we raised money for in the spring only arrived a couple of weeks ago. No place to store them long term, so Buddy got the nod and tried to take me along.”

  “I think Buddy pulled the better assignment.”

  “I thought the same thing until you found me. That was nice.”

  “Your presence in uniform was making Paul nervous, so I volunteered to do a little reconnaissance and discover your secret mission.”

  “He knows about the lightbulb emergency?”

  “In excruciating detail.” She grinned, remembering, and savored the moment. “I was still talking lumens and watts when he ordered me back on the floor.”

  “You enjoy torturing him, don’t you?”

  “Usually, yes.

  Sullivan put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “You’re a little warped, you know that?”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Nope. I like it.”

  Ramsey glanced up at him. “You mean that, don’t you?”

  “Sure. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

  Believing him, Ramsey nodded faintly and dropped her head back on his shoulder. “I want to tell you something, and I don’t know if you’ll want to hear it, but I’ve thought about it and I want to say it anyway.”

  “All right,” he said cautiously.

  “I’m not looking at you. That’s on purpose. Are you frowning?”

  “Um, no. Not exactly. I’m wearing my curious face.”

  “That’s okay. Curious means you’re interested, not afraid.”

  “I could easily lean toward fear if you don’t get on with it.”

  “Mm. Right.” She said nothing for a five count and then, “I had what you would call an epiphany—well, I would call it an epiphany—this afternoon. I finished the call with Mr. Finch and I wanted to talk you. I scrolled through my phone for your number and saw Dudley and that made me remember how you laughed when I showed it to you and then I thought it was clearly one of the reasons I was falling in love with you and then on the heels of that came the realization—the epiphany—that I was thinking about it in the wrong tense because I am in love with you.” She huffed a breath, impatient with herself. “I love you.”

  Silence followed. She waited. The quiet was overwhelming. She made herself sit with it, sit with the discomfort, the doubt, and allowed him to have whatever time he needed to take it in.

  When Sullivan finally spoke, it was because he’d managed to swallow the lump in his throat. He couldn’t do a damn thing about the catch in his voice. “Best. Declaration. Ever.”

  A soft, vaguely uncertain laugh parted her lips. “Really?”

  “Well, there was that ‘When in the Course of Human Events’ thing, but who really remembers that?”

  “You are a complete original, and I do love you.”

  “If I wasn’t such a coward, I would have told you first. I thought you’d run for the hills. That’s what people do here. Run for the hills.”

  “Not running. I told you. I’m done with that. If I may raise a small point of order, you still haven’t actually said it.”

  “Huh. I haven’t, have I? I don’t think I’ve made any secret of the fact that I like you, enjoy your company, appreciate your wit, admire your courage, but arriving at the absolute certainty that I loved you happened yesterday evening when I was working with Uncle Mark on his Mustang.”

  “I was with Jay then.”

  “Stay focused. I didn’t know that and your ex isn’t part of this equation.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I was under the car, fiddling with the transmission, when Uncle Mark asked if I was still seeing you. I said I was. He didn’t follow up right then, but a little l
ater he asked if you’d ever told me about Aunt Kay. I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he goes on to say that he knows you work at the Ridge and he also knows what you do there. There was no point trying to convince him he was wrong when he clearly wasn’t, so I asked him why he was only mentioning it now. Turns out, he hasn’t known about it all that long.”

  “He didn’t know at the wedding, then.”

  “No. Not a clue. Neither did Aunt Kay, although your presence must have fired some synapses for her, and she’s been trying to place you ever since. Do you remember running into her and Linda at the Ridge?”

  “Yes, but that was a long time ago.”

  “Doesn’t matter. That’s when the penny dropped. She didn’t say a word to Linda, and she never will, but eventually she confessed to Uncle Mark. It seems she’s had this sticky fingers problem for years. Comes and goes, and mainly comes when she’s feeling under a lot of pressure. I guess it was around Christmas time when you stopped her.”

  “A couple days before.”

  “You recognized her at the wedding.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Ramsey confirmed it anyway. “Yes.”

  “She told Uncle Mark she wasn’t certain you had. You impressed her as gracious.”

  “I wanted to plant my fist in her face.”

  “That’s my girl.” He gave her shoulders another squeeze and leaned in to place a kiss against her hair. “She confessed to swinging her tote at you to get away.”

  “True.”

  “She thinks she might have hurt you. Did she?”

  In spite of the concussion she suffered, Ramsey had a vivid memory of that canary yellow Ridge tote flying at her head and the impact of that frozen turkey breast. The doctor in the ER was surprised she recalled anything and Paul certainly hadn’t trusted her memory. The poor quality of the surveillance cameras had not supported her, but she knew what she knew and time had not altered her recollection. Telling Sullivan, though, was another matter entirely.

  “I don’t think that’s something you need to know.”