Troubled Waters

“How did Trevor smell?” Heath must have sensed her discomfort, because he grabbed his other shirt and pulled it back on.

“Awful,” she said emphatically, hoping to bury whatever had just happened under a mountain of words. “He wore this ridiculous, expensive cologne. I asked him about it once because it was so strong, and he told me how much he paid for it. I don’t remember what he said it cost, but it was a lot, and he always used way too much so that it followed him in a cloud. I’ve never smelled anything like it before or since. Except—” She caught herself a moment too late and stopped.

“Except what?” Heath’s steel-blue eyes watched her as several seconds ticked by. “Don’t tell me it was nothing. You were going to say something. You’ve never smelled anything like Trevor’s cologne except what?”

“It really was nothing,” Tracie sighed.

“Then it shouldn’t be any big deal for you to tell me.”

“It’s not even worth telling.”

“Prove it. Tell me and I’ll tell you if it was worth telling or not.”

Tracie’s tired mind spun as she tried to follow Heath’s logic. She felt completely exhausted: mentally, physically, and especially emotionally. “Fine. I smelled Trevor’s cologne at his house on Saturday, just before we were shot at. But how can that mean anything? It was his house. He wore so much of that stuff it was bound to linger even though he’s been dead for over a month. The smell will probably never come out of his carpets.” She planted her hands on her hips and looked up at him. “So see? It really was nothing.”

“And that’s all?”

Tracie wanted to nod, to claim there had never been anything more to what she was thinking, but she couldn’t lie to him. “And I smelled it at Tim’s house this morning. Very faintly. I was so distracted by everything else I didn’t even think about it until just now, but I guess it makes sense. Tim was Trevor’s brother. Why wouldn’t his place carry a little bit of his smell?”

“Had you smelled it before when you’d gone over there?”

“I’d only been twice before.”

“And you smelled it there then?” Tracie hesitated.

Heath took a step closer to her, and his hand fell on her arm.

She felt the warmth of his touch run straight to her heart.

“No,” she admitted reluctantly. “Today was the first time.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Heath leaned toward her and whispered the words, his eyes meeting hers, his hand still on her arm.

Tracie nearly looked away, but there was something in his expression that told her he wasn’t out to hurt her like Trevor always had been. For a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the reassuring feeling that she wasn’t alone on this case—that Heath was working on her side. Was Heath really someone she could trust? She wanted so much to believe it was true.

Gunnar’s sharp barking brought her back to reality, and she looked down to see her dog nosing Heath in the leg, obviously trying to push him away.

“Looks like we’ve got a chaperone,” Heath said softly, stepping back and pulling his hand away.

Tracie didn’t know how to respond. She knew she ought to be glad her dog had the good sense to break them apart before they got any closer, but as reality returned with its crushing weight, she almost considered offering to put the dog out in the yard. But now that they were no longer standing so close, Gunnar didn’t seem nearly as concerned. He hunkered down and put his head on her left foot, as though staking his claim.

Her silence must have concerned Heath, because he quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I know you said you don’t fraternize with coworkers. I should respect your personal space.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

A relieved grin spread across Heath’s lips. “I’m glad. I think I’d like to spend more time with you.”

Though she hadn’t intended to encourage him, Tracie couldn’t help smiling back at him. She shook her head and whispered, mostly to herself, “I should know better.”

“Why? There’s no rule in the Coast Guard against the two of us spending time together outside of work.”

“Not in the Coast Guard,” she shook her head. “It’s my rule.”

“Why?”

Tracie sighed. She’d been tired before Heath had arrived. She was exhausted now. Still, it had been so long since she’d had anyone to talk to, since she’d stood so close to anyone. She didn’t want Heath to leave, so she kept talking.

“I didn’t always have this rule. Before Trevor came, I wouldn’t think twice about meeting a few guys from the team at the rec center for racquetball, or joining my coworkers and their families for a barbecue.” She paused.

“Before Trevor came?”

“He wanted more of my attention than I wanted to give him.” It took several long seconds for her to gather the courage to look Heath in the eye.

The concern on his face strengthened her, and she went on. “He thought we should hang out together. He—” she struggled to form the words she hadn’t ever admitted to anyone “—he wanted to be involved with me. He thought we should get together after hours. Not that I ever would.” She made a disgusted face. “I tried to turn him down politely. I tried to give him hints. When hints weren’t enough I had to make myself very, very clear.”

Her voice rose as the confession came spilling out, and Gunnar lifted his head from her foot and whined his concern.

Tracie lowered her voice slightly. “I told him I didn’t fraternize with coworkers. Ever. And I stuck to it. Once I thought I could get away with going to play sand volleyball with a bunch of guys from work, but he showed up. It was bad.” She pinched her eyes shut against the memories. Trevor’s anger. Trevor’s accusations.

Heath extended his good arm, gently enfolding her shoulders. She smelled the scent of his fabric softener mixed with his aftershave, and his soft cotton shirt pulsed ever so slightly with his strong heartbeat.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Heath apologized. “And I’m sorry I pushed you. I didn’t know.”

Tracie shook her head against him, startled to find herself so close to him, but immeasurably glad for his closeness anyway. “No. Don’t be sorry.” She looked up into his face. “You are nothing like him. I don’t regret letting you in tonight. I really appreciate the pizza, and the opportunity to talk.”

The grin that instantly appeared on Heath’s face told Tracie he didn’t regret it either.

A surprised laugh burst from her lips. “If Trevor was alive right now, he would be so furious to see you here when I was so insistent on not getting involved with him.”

Heath lifted her chin. “Let’s just be glad he’s dead, then.” He looked into her eyes, his expression warm.

Returning a giddy smile, Tracie let her eyes rove over his handsome face, to his lips less than a foot from hers. What would it be like to kiss him? She was chiding herself for thinking such a thing about a man she’d only just met when Gunnar’s barking protest distracted her. “Okay, Mr. Chaperone,” she relented, backing away.

“I should go,” Heath said, taking a step toward his coat.

The twinge of disappointment she felt took Tracie by surprise. She hadn’t ever intended to have Heath over in the first place; she should have felt relieved that he was leaving. “Thanks for the pizza.” She headed for the door, self-conscious about where her thoughts had roamed.

When Tracie opened the front door for Heath, Gunnar’s nostrils flared and he bounded outside, barking.

“Want me to go after him?” Heath offered.

“It’s okay, he usually goes out before bedtime.” She bit her lower lip thoughtfully. Gunnar wasn’t usually so excited about his evening ritual, but she figured Heath’s visit had thrown him off his routine. Still, he barked angrily at the thorny stand of blackberry canes that rimmed the one side of her property. Strange.

“Sounds like he’s pretty interested in those bushes,” Heath observed. “Is that normal?”

Tracie felt her pulse tick up a notch. “Not really,” she acknowledged, sliding on her oversize snow boots and tromping out at Heath’s side.

“Hey, buddy.” Heath went nose-to-nose with the canine. “What’s up? You got a rabbit pinned in there?”