“Excellent,” I said.

  “Okay. I think that’s it.” He gripped the edge of the dresser and started to push himself up. “I’m going to go because I’d rather support you two from outside the room you’ve been having sex in all day.”

  “We haven’t been having sex in here all day,” I said.

  “Right.”

  “No, we had sex in my room and the shower and then the dresser in here and—”

  “No.” Reyes threw himself away from the dresser. “Come on. Please stop.”

  “Prude,” Laurel said.

  “I am not.” He stomped to the door.

  “This is payback for the two months you were sleeping with that uniform after your divorce,” Laurel said.

  He turned back. “That was maybe ill-advised, but in no way relates to this.”

  “I walked in on you two like five times.” Laurel turned to me. “It was disgusting.”

  I nodded. “That sounds terrible.”

  “I saw his bare ass. I’ll never unsee it.”

  “No wonder you needed so much therapy.”

  She shook her head sadly. “I don’t think it helped. Some trauma you can’t recover from.”

  I rubbed her back. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

  “Jackasses. Both of you.” Reyes let himself out and closed the door hard.

  We could still hear him grumbling as he walked away. We started laughing.

  “That was fun,” Laurel said.

  I hooked my finger in her shirt and looked down. “You know what else is fun?”

  “Talking about our feelings?”

  “Okay. Who are you and where’s Laurel?”

  “I’m all for avoidance, but apparently, I didn’t deal with a lot of shit before and it kind of fucked up a lot for me.”

  I sighed. And then genius struck me. “Fine. But we’re playing strip share.”

  “I hesitate to ask, but what is strip share?”

  “For every emotional truth I share, you take off an item of clothing. Strip share.” I was quite pleased with myself.

  “I’m only wearing three items,” she said.

  I grinned. “Guess it will be a short game.”

  “Okay. We can play. But for every flippant or avoidant answer you give, I put on an item of clothing.”

  “Hoo boy. Challenge accepted.”

  “Have you forgiven me for leaving?” she asked.

  “I don’t think it’s a matter of forgiveness. I think it’s a matter of understanding why. I still don’t understand why, but I’m starting to.”

  She nodded. “I’m impressed.”

  I drew a circle in the air with my finger to tell her to get a move on. “Show how impressed you are by taking off your shirt.”

  She unbuttoned the shirt and let it drop off her shoulders. “Why now? Why were you finally ready today?”

  “I talked to Marjorie and she told me she came to see me because the possibility of pain was worth the trade-off to have a fuller life.”

  Laurel cocked her head. “I like that.”

  “You know what I like?” I stared pointedly at her shorts.

  “How can you be so flippant and so serious simultaneously? It’s very strange.”

  “Was that your question?” I asked.

  She laughed. “No.” She stood and kicked off the shorts. Then she sat and stared at me for a long beat. “Why are you an emotional coward?”

  “What?”

  “You said it before, but I’ve been thinking about it since. You’re quite comfortable with conflict and debate and anger, but anything with emotional resonance terrifies you.”

  “I just don’t like talking about feelings.”

  “But that’s not true. You will talk all day about feelings. And you’ll tell me you love me. But you struggle to hear it when I tell you I love you.”

  “No?” I meant to deny it, but it came out a question. “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “The first time I told you I was in love with you was after you’d been released from County. Rather than hear it, you got out of the truck,” she said. I opened my mouth to deny it, but she kept going. “I know it was because you were mad at me. You had every right to be. But then I said it again when we were on that stakeout in Davis. And, yes, there was a lot of shit happening, and yes, you told me you loved me a couple of days later, but there was this moment of panic. You just froze. Why are you so afraid of me loving you?”

  I was very aware of breathing. It felt like I shouldn’t be able to. My chest had just been cut into, after all. We stared at the truth she had spilled all over the bed.

  “I’ve never let someone love me after they left me. I did it for the first six years of my life on constant repeat. I learned that once someone had hurt me—really truly hurt me—then it wasn’t safe. And I’ve let you love me twice and both times you broke my heart.”

  She nodded. And nodded and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That’s fair.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Stay. Every day. Even when we’re sick of each other. Especially then. I’ll talk to you. You’ll talk to me.”

  “Sometimes it might really suck.”

  She gave me a wry smile. “I know.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think you owe me those underwear.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  I poured myself into one of the dining room chairs next to Jalen and Duarte and sighed. They didn’t respond. I took a deeper breath and sighed louder.

  “What’s up, Cash?” Duarte asked.

  “I’m bored.”

  Laurel set a cup of coffee in front of me. “Cash, didn’t I tell you not to bother Jeff this morning?”

  “Maybe.” I sighed again.

  She sat next to me. “How goes the operation?”

  “The DEA team is in place. They can’t see much. No one has gone in or out of the property,” Duarte said.

  “Any sign of Brewer?” Laurel asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Any sign of Millard?”

  “Nope.”

  “Any indication they are on the right track?”

  “Well, they’re reasonably certain someone is living there. There’s a clean truck under a recently built aluminum carport.”

  “Okay. A clean truck. What else?” Laurel asked.

  Jalen shook her head. “Nothing. I promise to keep you two informed.”

  “This is not fun,” I said.

  Laurel squeezed my thigh under the table. “Patience.”

  “I don’t have patience. I’m going to watch cartoons.”

  Laurel laughed and followed me to the couch. I pulled up Netflix and started the first Scooby-Doo show that popped up.

  “Is this what you do in your downtime?” Laurel asked.

  “I’m too amped up to read poetry. And I don’t have my cat. And we’ve been inside for over a week. I’ve decided to become a vampire.”

  “A vampire, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sounds scary,” she said.

  “Oh, it is.”

  “A Scooby-Doo watching vampire.”

  “There’s a lot of sex appeal in Scooby-Doo. Velma is hot. Plus, drug usage? Fun.”

  “Okay.” Laurel scooted down the couch and leaned her head against my shoulder.

  “Are you sure that’s okay?” I whispered.

  She shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  “Cool.” I didn’t know it until she said it, but I had given up on waiting for Laurel not to care what other people thought.

  We settled in. She was touching me unthinkingly. Her knuckles rested gently against the outside of my thigh. Her hair tickled the edge of my jaw. It felt simple and unimportant and it was everything.

  “Don’t forget to call Lane today,” I said.

  “Shit. Yeah, thanks.” She pressed a fast kiss into my shoulder, then went back to her investment in Scooby and the gang.

  Two hours later, Jalen got a phone call. She’d gotten many in that time, but none seemed important. This one seemed important. “Both of them?” Jalen typed some shit on her keyboard. “No, stay in your vehicle. I’ll loop Boyd in. Just a sec.”

  I nudged Laurel. “What’s going on?” I nodded at Jalen.

  “I’m not sure.” She sat and leaned forward to hear better.

  “Okay, you guys can both hear me?” Jalen waited. “Malone, stay with the vehicle. Boyd, it sounds like we’re heading toward the freeway. Take a different road and wait there. We’ll let you know if they get on going east or west.”

  “Let’s go find out.” Laurel stood and held out her hand to tug me to my feet.

  We sat at the table. Duarte was watching Jalen intently. When we joined, he went and knocked on one of the bedroom doors. A minute later, Reyes came out and sat with us.

  “You got that, Boyd? East. They are heading east. Stay on them. Malone, drop back so you can take over if he needs you. I’m muting, but I can hear you.” Jalen tapped the mute on her phone and looked at us. “Gavin just went to Travis’s. They left in Travis’s truck and got on the freeway going east.”

  “Any idea where they are going?” Laurel asked.

  “Could be the airport. Could be the cabin. Could be fucking Tahoe. There’s no way to know,” Duarte said.

  “Well, we do live in California. So, you know, most everything is east,” I said.

  “We don’t have to include you in these little meetings, you know?” Duarte said.

  “Yeah, but you like me.”

  A few minutes later, Jalen announced they had passed the exit for the airport. Fifteen minutes after that, they got off in Pollock Pines.

  “That’s how you get to the family cabin, right?” Duarte asked.

  “Yep,” Reyes said.

  Jalen switched from her call with Malone and Boyd to a call with the DEA agents. “Pierce? You have Gavin and Travis Frank headed your way. They’re in one of Travis’s vehicles. It’s a navy 2010 Chevy Silverado.”

  We waited. I wondered if the gang would figure out what was going on with the pint-sized monsters in Crystal Cove. Velma would. She always came through.

  Jalen switched back to Boyd. “Yes, I got you. Continue past the driveway. Agent Pierce will call and tell you two where to go.” Jalen switched over. “Yeah, that was Boyd in the white Explorer.” She listened for a moment. “Thanks.” She hung up.

  “The Frank brothers are at the cabin?” Duarte asked.

  “Yeah. Pierce will keep me updated.” Jalen typed out some notes.

  “How do you do this headquarters shit? Sitting and waiting is hard,” I said.

  “It’s not a task for everyone,” Jalen said.

  “Yeah. I’m getting that.”

  Jalen sat straighter. “Okay, here.” She tapped her phone and iPad, then handed Duarte the iPad.

  Laurel and I tried to see, but we couldn’t. We went around the table to look over Duarte’s shoulder. It was a photo taken from a telephoto. The quality wasn’t ideal, but we could clearly see Curtis Millard hugging Gavin Frank.

  “Swipe and you can see two more photos,” she said.

  Duarte did and we were treated to Millard shaking Travis Frank’s hand. He swiped again and we saw them walking around the corner of the cabin.

  “Thrilling,” I said.

  “Can you confirm that it is Curtis Millard?” Jalen asked.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s definitely him,” I said.

  “Good.” She sent a text. “Now we wait and see what they’re doing.”

  “Nope. Now I watch Velma be smarter than boys.” I went back to the couch. Laurel stayed behind to be detectivey. I got through another episode before Laurel called me back to the table.

  “We’ve got more photos coming in,” Jalen said.

  I looked for her iPad, but it was locked. Laurel touched my forearm and pointed to the midway point on the table. Someone had set up a computer monitor. Jalen typed and photos appeared on the monitor.

  “That’s much better,” Duarte said.

  Jalen half smiled. “I know.”

  The photos were of the Franks loading big dark garbage bags into the bed of the truck. Curtis was helping, but he only carried one or two bags, whereas the brothers looked like they were carrying four or five each. The final photo was the truck piled high enough to obstruct the rear view, but probably not high enough to blow off. Travis was tying it down.

  “What the hell are they doing?” I asked.

  “Not a damn clue. We need to get inside those bags and find out what they are transporting,” Reyes said.

  “Great idea. We’ll just tell the DEA team to pull them over and ask for a look,” Duarte said.

  “While we’re doing that, we should just ask them what the heck they are up to and have they seen that rascal Henry Brewer,” Laurel said.

  “You’re so smart. I bet they know where he is, the scamp,” I said.

  We had another forty-five minutes of thumb twiddling before the brothers made a move. They got off the freeway in Folsom and headed south, where there was no town. The plot thickened. They turned onto White Rock Road, which led to even more nothing.

  “What is even out there?” Duarte asked. He was zooming in and out on the map and finding nothing. “Cash?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “Didn’t you grow up there?”

  “No, I grew up outside of Placerville. Closer to where the cabin is than where they currently are.”

  “Oh. It all looks close together on this map.” He turned the map digitally as if that would illuminate something.

  “They’re in a completely different county.”

  “Okay, well does anyone know what is out there?” Reyes asked.

  Laurel looked over Duarte’s shoulder again. “Elk Grove. That’s the closest city.”

  “Yeah, Grant Line is the back road we used to take to get to Elk Grove,” I said.

  “So you do know where they are headed.” Duarte tried to make it sound like an accusation, but fell short.

  “We’re in Elk Grove. They’re probably coming to kill you two,” Reyes said.

  “Score. No more boring waiting,” I said.

  “Is there anything else there?” Laurel asked.

  “No. Just the dump,” I said. They all looked at me. “What?”

  “That’s clearly where they are going with a truck full of trash bags, you idiot,” Duarte said.

  “Oh. You think?”

  “Yes, obviously,” Laurel said. “Jeez, you’re lucky you’re hot.”

  Jalen opted to not berate me. She called Malone instead. “Hey. It looks like there’s not much out where they are heading aside from the landfill.” The excitement in his voice carried over the phone line even though I couldn’t understand what he was saying. “I know. This could be a solid break for us.”

  I looked at Laurel in question. “How is the dump a solid break?”

  “Shhh. Just a sec.” Laurel waved me down.

  “Yeah, I’ll see if we can get someone out there.” Jalen hung up.

  “Do we have a team available that can meet them?” Reyes asked.

  “I don’t know yet.” She punched a different number. “This is Agent Jalen. We need a recovery team out at the Kiefer Landfill ASAP. Yes, I can hold.”

  “How did she already figure out the name of the landfill?” I asked.

  Jalen sighed and turned her laptop so I could see the screen. She’d already googled the location and brought up a map. “Still here,” she said. “No, it’s got to be now. The suspect’s vehicle is ten miles out.” She shook her head and listened. “Okay, I’ll tell our guys to mark the area.” She hung up.

  “Are they sending someone?” Reyes asked.

  “Nope.” She hit another number. “What’s your location?” She grinned at the response. “I need you to get back on Fifty and head west. Lights and sirens. Get off at Sunrise. I’ll send you the rest of the directions from there. You’re heading to the landfill. Make sure you get in line right after Frank’s truck.” She hung up and started typing again.

  “Jalen,” Duarte said.

  “Wait.” She typed some more before triumphantly hitting enter. “Okay. Boyd is on his way.”

  “Isn’t Malone already following them?” Duarte asked.

  “Yeah, but he’s driving a sedan. It’ll be super obvious waiting in line to enter a landfill. Boyd is in a landfill appropriate vehicle.”

  “You’ve got him driving to Sunrise to beat them to the dump?” I asked.

  “Yep. Boyd was waiting in Folsom in case we needed another vehicle.”

  “Shit. No wonder you said lights and sirens.”

  “Is that a stretch?” Reyes asked.

  I nodded. “But it might be doable with lights and depending on traffic. Grant Line is usually empty.”

  “I thought you didn’t know the area at all,” Duarte said.

  “I don’t, but I did learn to drive out there. So.”

  “Whatever.” Duarte shook his head.

  Seven minutes later, Jalen’s phone rang. “Hello?”

  We could hear Boyd shouting. “I fucking made it.” We couldn’t make out anything after that, just mumbling, but it was enough.

  “Okay, once you get to the landfill, pull off like you’re checking cargo. When you see Malone approaching, slide in. He will continue past.”

  “Sounds like we got ’em,” Reyes said.

  “Now will someone tell me why garbage is exciting?” I asked.

  “Once garbage has been put curbside or, you know, dropped at a landfill, it’s within our purview to search it, gather evidence, whatever our little hearts desire,” Laurel said.

  “I don’t know about you guys, but my heart has no desire to dig through garbage,” I said.

  “We don’t need to. We just need to see if there’s meth making paraphernalia present in the bags,” Laurel said.

  “And there’s probably plenty of other evidence to indicate how many people are living there, what they’re doing if they’re not making meth, that sort of thing,” Reyes said.

  “Wow. Law enforcement sure is glamorous,” I said.

  Jalen muted her phone again. “Okay, Boyd is in line to enter the landfill behind the Frank brothers.”

  “Woo hoo,” I said flatly. Reyes and Duarte glared at me.