Chapter Six

Phaedra looked up and smiled when Seth stepped inside Lyndhurst's office. "Good morning, Sheriff."

The sunlight streaming through the front windows reflected off the plexiglass partition separating her from the lobby. Seth fought back a wince from the glare and tipped his hat in greeting. He angled his body to avoid burning his retinas and dug deep for his most charming smile. "I don't have an appointment with Tony, but I was hoping to see him before he hit the ground running." He'd seen the man pull into the parking lot in his pearly white Cadillac right before Seth came in.

"I'll call back to Cynthia's desk and see if he has room in his schedule." She picked up her desk phone and dialed an extension while Seth resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

He'd never been a man who lauded his position over anyone, but he couldn't say the same for Lyndhurst. They had both been elected by their constituents and sworn in as top officials for their branch of law. Where Seth had tried to be a man of the people and stayed assessable, Lyndhurst installed plexiglass and mechanically locked doors to separate himself from the public he served. One position didn't outrank the other, and Lyndhurst seemed to forget they were working toward the same goal. Seth investigated the crimes, and Lyndhurst prosecuted them.

"She's not answering her phone," Phaedra said, interrupting an inner monologue that sounded suspiciously like the intro to Law & Order. "She's probably going over Prosecutor Lyndhurst's schedule with him."

Seth stifled his annoyance and kept a professional tone. "Could you try his office? This is important, but please assure him I won't take long." Seth would remember this bullshit the next time Tony requested a meeting or showed up unannounced at the sheriff's department.

Phaedra smiled timidly as she tried another extension. She dropped her gaze to the desk when someone picked up the other end. "Sorry to bother you, sir. Sheriff Burke is here to see you. He says it's very important, but he won't take much of your time." Phaedra's cheeks turned pink as she darted a glance in Seth's direction. "I didn't think it was my place to ask him, sir, but I can do so now." Did that asshat expect Seth to divulge the nature of his visit like he was some rando off the street? Seth couldn't make out what Lyndhurst said, but he must've declined her offer. Phaedra hung up the phone and plastered a bright smile on her face. "Cynthia will be out to get you in just a minute."

Seth knew better and reluctantly claimed the seat he'd used during his last visit, but Rueben wasn't there to give warmth to the sterile waiting room. He'd sat in doctor's offices with more personality than this. Seth glanced at the selection of magazines on the coffee table and grumbled internally at the crappy offerings there. He grabbed the one closest to him, which featured a smiling redhead he didn't recognize. She stood in a farmhouse kitchen with a few platters of food in front of her. It was probably a cooking or lifestyle magazine. Seth rarely thought about either of those things, but he needed to keep his brain occupied before it wandered to places best saved for when he was alone. He opened the magazine and scanned the table of contents for something remotely interesting. Seth found an article on how to make a room cabin cozy chic. He didn't know what that meant, but it appealed more to him than the recipe section, though the photo of lemon blueberry French toast made his mouth water.

Seth hadn't made any real upgrades to the cabin he inherited from his grandpa unless he considered the bed. That purchase had been more about necessity than design, even if he'd spent more time shopping for it than he had on his pickup truck. Even back then, a part of Seth's brain had accepted what had taken nine months for the rest of him to acknowledge about his relationship with Rueben. It wasn't over—far from it—and he might never want it to end. Twenty-four hours had barely passed since he kissed Rueben goodbye, and Seth was already scheming on when they could meet at the cabin again. These were the kinds of thoughts he needed to distract his brain from, so he flipped the magazine to the article to learn about cabin cozy chic. A tantalizing smell wafted out of the pages, and it made his heart stutter. He held the magazine closer to his face and inhaled. Something inside there smelled like Rueben.

Seth flipped the pages the other way to find what was putting out the scent. He came across an advertisement for fabric softener that included imagery of bath towels and T-shirts hanging on a clothesline to dry on a sunny day. He noticed a little scratch-and-sniff circle on the page where someone had already gone to town on it. Seth glanced at Phaedra to see if she was watching him, but she wasn't at her desk. He inhaled discreetly and tried not to smile when the warm and fuzzies stirred in his gut. Sunshine and clean clothes. Seth's grandma used to hang all her clothes, bedding, and towels on the line in the summer to save on electricity costs. He'd always loved that smell and associated it with happy childhood memories at her house, and now the combination reminded him of happy adult times with Rueben.

Cynthia called his name. He snapped his head up and fumbled the magazine like he'd been caught reading something inappropriate. Seth returned it to the table without sniffing it again and stood up. He'd been so distracted by thoughts of Rueben that he hadn't heard the mechanical locks disengage or the door open. Seth pinned a sheepish grin on his face as he crossed the room. He'd known Cynthia since they were kids, and he didn't worry about putting on airs around her.

"I found an article about the latest decorating craze. Cozy cabin chic," he said as he fell into step with her. "I don't know what chic is, but my fishing cabin could use an overhaul. Cozy sounds real nice."

Cynthia smiled up at him, and Seth noticed the shadows under her eyes. "Chic usually means a few glamorous pieces thrown in to take a design up a notch. Think frilly pillows or glitzy finishes tucked in with basic pieces. It's like combining sequins with corduroy. That combo would look really shitty on a person, but the contrast would be nice in a living space. I could come by and make some suggestions."

Seth felt uneasy about the idea, though he didn't know why. There'd never been anything romantic between them, but Rueben had gotten the impression they had an intimate history. Was that the reason he didn't immediately accept her offer, or was it because he only wanted Rueben's stamp on his private hideaway? "I'll give some thought to the direction I want to go first," he said. "Thank you." Cynthia smiled, but it lacked the pizazz he was used to seeing from her. "You okay?"

She huffed a sigh and shook her head. "Everyone keeps asking that, and I'm getting a complex. God forbid I don't feel like smiling around the office like a freaking Stepford wife."

"I'm sorry. You're just not your vivacious self."

"The anniversary of Natalie's death really hit me hard this year. I've obsessed about the last time we talked and how badly I want a do-over. I keep thinking about the things I said, but the words we left unspoken bother me the most." Cynthia rubbed her hands up and down her arms like she was cold. "I just wished I'd been at the river that day, you know? And I would've been if my parents would've hired a babysitter for my little brother instead of devouring my summers with babysitting. Maybe she'd still be here picking fights with me over the dumbest things."

Seth wondered if it would be a good time to tell her that the CBI was reinvestigating Natalie's murder. Would that make her feel better or give her a false sense of hope? He decided not to say anything just yet. "I remember the time you both bought the same homecoming dress for your freshman dance. You fought like cats and dogs over who had to take their dress back."

Cynthia snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened like she'd committed a major crime against office etiquette. She recovered quickly enough and gave Seth the megawatt smile he associated with her. "That was the worst fight we'd ever had."

"Worse than the time she made the cheer squad and you didn't?"

"Oh, heavens, yes," Cynthia said. "I really only tried out so we could be together. A double scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream got me over that disappointment."

"Didn't you both end up returning your dresses?" Seth asked.

Cynthia stopped in the hallway and turned to face him. "Yes, and we went together, so we didn't repeat the same mistake. We always loved the same things—clothes, shoes, hairstyles, music, and movies. You name it."

"Boys?" Seth asked with a raised brow.

Cynthia blushed but didn't look away. "Even boys sometimes, but nothing really got between us for long." She sounded in better spirits, but worry lines still marred her brow.

"Anything else going on?"

"I'm also stressed about my upcoming move."

"What move?" Seth asked.

"Jeff and I broke up. He's been nice enough to let me crash in his guest room until I found a new place."

"Oh man. That's gotta be awkward." No wonder she didn't seem like herself.

"It's not been too bad." Cynthia continued walking, and Seth followed her lead. "Jeff travels a lot for work, so he's gone more than he's home. I think that's a big reason I couldn't see our relationship advancing to marriage. I want a partner, not someone I see ten days out of thirty. Anyway, I found the perfect place and signed a lease. I need to get my stuff out of Jeff's house, plus the things I put into storage when I moved in with him."

"Need help? I've got a pickup truck and two capable hands."

Cynthia perked up. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely. And I bet I can enlist Kerry's help. We could strap a sofa on his broad shoulders."

Cynthia giggled. "That sounds perfect. Thank you, thank you."

Lyndhurst poked his head out of his office. Seth expected a scowl, but the prosecutor smiled in a way that made him feel like Tweety Bird squaring off against Sylvester. "I thought you two got lost. It's serendipity that you showed up this morning because I wanted to talk to you as well."

Serendipity? What kind of lawyer speak was that? And why did he care about the nature of Seth's visit if he wanted to talk to him anyway? He decided not to waste energy on figuring out the man.

Lyndhurst shifted his attention to Cynthia, and his jovial smile melted into a frown. "You'll make those phone calls for me first thing?"

She nodded stiffly. "I'll start now." Cynthia nodded at Seth before walking away.

"Come in, come in," Lyndhurst said. "I think I've got a major development brewing with the Carsons."

"I'm here to discuss them too."

"You go first," they said at the same time.

Lyndhurst grinned and gestured for Seth to go first so he didn't skip a beat. "I assume Oliver Hawkins has contacted you about his podcast."

The prosecutor furrowed his brow. "Isn't that your ex-fiancé?"

Seth had hoped not to address that, but it seemed unavoidable. "Yes, but that's not why I'm here."

"I'm listening," Tony said.

Seth made his case for a gag order as succinctly as possible, sticking to the biggest issues they faced, such as tainting the jury pool. "Surely, a judge will agree."

"Already ahead of you, Burke." Lyndhurst leaned back in his chair and crossed his wrists over his belly. "My team is already drafting a motion. If those assholes can flood the courthouse with filings, so can I."

"What motions have the Carsons' attorneys filed?"

"The delay I warned you about, plus a change of venue." Lyndhurst sat up straight and placed his hands flat on his desk. His eyes shimmered intensely, and his cheeks turned ruddy. Was the guy having a cardiac incident? "But none of their filings will matter if my hunch is right."

"What hunch?" Seth asked.

"I think Mick Carson is ready to make a deal."

Seth narrowed his eyes. "You deduced that from a hunch?"

Lyndhurst's answering smile became more Cheshire cat than Sylvester. Damn, that was a lot of teeth. "I have an inside source at the federal prison hosting the Carsons. Mick's not in the greatest health and is showing signs of severe fatigue. He's told people he doesn't want to die in prison."

"Mick said this to who?" Seth pressed, though he suspected the answer.

"During phone calls with his family." Sensing his skepticism, Lyndhurst quickly added, "He knows the calls are recorded, so he's pretty cagey about most things. He doesn't shy away from expressing his desire to get out of jail as soon as possible. My goal is to strike a deal to avoid a trial. If Mick rolls, then it becomes likelier Quinton will take a deal too."

"What do the federal prosecutors think?"

Lyndhurst shrugged. "Hell if I know. They didn't share any of this with me, so I'm not inclined to discuss my plans with them. I want to save the taxpayers' money and move on from this blight on our county. We're both up for reelection, and this will be a feather in both our caps if we can wrap this up before then. I don't want the federal prosecutors to prevent me from talking to Mick Carson."

"Sounds like you have a plan."

"Ole Judge McCready isn't just going to kick the trial down the road without making sure that's what the defendants want since they're held without bail. They have a right to a speedy trial, and he'll reiterate that to them. We don't want them to walk on appeals by claiming ineffective counsel."

"You think this or you know?" Seth asked.

The Cheshire cat returned. "Know. McCready has already told the attorneys their clients must be in his courtroom when he hears arguments. The feds will transport Mick and Quinton here for the hearing and take them back when it's over. I'll take a swing at him while he's in our custody."

"When?" One of his primary jobs as sheriff was overseeing the jails in his county. He should be the first person to know when a high-profile inmate was coming, even if it was only for a few hours.

"McCready's clerk hasn't picked a hearing date yet, but I'll inform you as soon as the notice comes across my desk." Ah, so he'd discussed the situation with Judge McCready over cards or fishing rods.

"Appreciate it." Seth pushed to his feet and extended his hand. "I've taken enough of your time, Tony."

"The pendulum is swinging in our direction, Burke. I can feel it."

"I hope so."

Seth tried to keep a tight rein on his emotions as he walked to the parking lot, but Lyndhurst's enthusiasm was contagious. Maybe his buoyed emotions were to blame for calling Seth's burner phone as soon as he was alone in his truck.

"Hello." The silky, sexy voice turned his insides to mush.

"I figured out what you smell like."

Rueben chuckled. "And what's that?"

"The fabric softener that smells like sun-dried clothes."

"You know my little secret, then. It reminds me of laundry day with my abuela. I got so embarrassed as a kid whenever she hung my underwear on the clothesline."

Seth laughed. "My grandmother did the same thing. I loved the way my clothes smelled, but the fabric got too scratchy."

"And stiff," Rueben said. "Your sexy voice makes my dick as hard as my jeans got on the clothesline."

The reference made Seth laugh. "I'm dying to see you again."

"I still feel you whenever I move, but barely. I need a reminder."

The rumble of an approaching truck drowned out Seth's groan. He looked in his rearview mirror in time to see a large red king cab truck slow down. It sported red, white, and blue bunting along the sides and big magnetic signs that read "Martindale for Sheriff." Amos extended his arm out the open window and waved at Seth as he drove by.

That not-so-subtle reminder should've doused his lust and steered Seth in the right direction. Instead, he returned his full attention to Rueben. "We've got to be smarter." Like not calling Rueben on his secret phone in the middle of his workday.

"Yes, we do." Rueben's words were silky and sly.

"You have a plan."

"Of course," Rueben said. "I have a dental cleaning scheduled for Wednesday. Maybe I could detour to the cabin on the way back."

Rueben had teed Seth up for drilling and filling jokes, but he didn't take the bait. His need to see Rue was about so much more than sex. "Call me when you're on the way. I'll meet you there."

"I will. I better go before someone comes looking for me."

"Rue," Seth blurted before he could disconnect.

"Yeah."

"This isn't just about sex." Seth wasn't ready to express what was really blooming between them.

"I know. It's not for me either."

Seth sighed. "We're in really big trouble, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but there's no one I'd rather get in trouble with. I'll talk to you tonight."

"Bye, baby."

Seth sat in his truck for a few minutes after they disconnected. Martindale's stupid truck rumbled by again, prodding him out of his fantasyland. Yeah, the guy was gunning for his job, and Seth's actions were making it easier for him to succeed. But not today. I'm still the sheriff, asshole. Seth rolled down his window and waved back, congratulating himself when he used all five fingers and not just the middle one.