Page 16

SIXTEEN

GAbrIEL

Thursday

The cobwebs of last night’s disjointed dreams—dreams that had inexplicably featured Ranger Man and faceless men chasing him—clung uncomfortably to Gabe’s skin. He raised his hand and swiped at his face as if he could make the strands of memory fade faster. Immediately and painfully, he regretted not taking a second handful of pain medication before he’d crawled into bed.

“Mother of hell,” he rasped, letting his hand flop back onto the mattress.

Trying to keep his groans to a minimum, Gabe gingerly pushed the covers to the side and swung his legs out from under them so that he was perched on the edge of the bed. The floor was chilly under his bare feet, and the sharp cold swept the last twitchy filaments of his dream away.

“Damn, I’m getting old.”

While he didn’t consider himself to be out of shape, he needed more exercise than he’d been getting, and spending the two prior nights in the car hadn’t helped. Another reason to quit the game: Extracting himself wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

The second thing he regretted was the same as the first. He needed to remember to have the big bottle of ibuprofen as close as possible. Sucking in a breath, he perked up as the heady scent of fresh-brewed coffee dragged him into full consciousness.

Gabriel savored the dark woodsy promise of a hot cup of joe. He wanted coffee almost more than he needed pain medication. Moving slowly, he found that last evening’s clothes had fallen from the bed onto the floor. With great care, he got dressed, then dug through his bag for the ibuprofen.

Before leaving the bedroom, he straightened the covers—it was the polite thing to do.

“Good mornin’,” Elton said from the comfort of his recliner. An off-white stoneware mug sat on a small table at Elton’s elbow, steam languidly rising from it like an offering to the gods. “Coffee’s on, help yourself.”

A pair of reading glasses was perched on his nose, and an e-reader lay on his lap. From where Gabe was standing, he couldn’t tell what Elton was reading. For some reason, he imagined it was Louis L’Amour or Zane Grey; classic westerns seemed like something Elton would enjoy.

“It’s morning, anyway,” Gabriel muttered, setting the book question aside for the moment. He hobbled into the kitchen and poured coffee into a mug that matched Elton’s. Drink in hand, he returned to the living room and eased slowly onto the couch. With every step, his muscles loosened up a little more.

“A bit sore this morning?” Elton asked.

“Like I was taken around the back of the woodshed,” Gabe confirmed. He scooted backward and propped his shoulders against the cushions behind him.

“It’ll pass. At least that bruise on your forehead looks better this morning,” Elton said with more confidence than Gabriel felt. “Are you planning on working on the boat today?”

His body screamed no, but mentally Gabriel agreed that yes, he was planning on putting his back completely out. His entire body out. He nodded anyway.

“If Lundin gives you a hard time about the deed, tell him to give me a ring.”

The mention of the deed reminded Gabriel he had a living great-aunt that Elton knew about and he didn’t. He opened his mouth to ask for more information, but Elton spoke first.

“I still haven’t heard from Gordon.” Elton’s voice was laced with concern. “Coulda lost his phone or something, I guess, but I worry about him. Think I might go check on him today.”

The memory of the two bullies at the gas station popped into Gabe’s mind. He hoped he hadn’t made trouble for Gordon, but he didn’t regret teaching the assholes a lesson about who not to fuck with.

Gabriel was about to ask Elton if he needed or wanted company, even though he knew he should get over to the Ticket so he would have his own place to sleep sooner rather than later, when there was a knock at the door.

“Expecting someone?” His pulse raced as he worked to keep his voice calm. He hadn’t been fully awake yet, but he was now. It said something that he hadn’t heard a vehicle or approaching footsteps.

Had he been so careless that the Colavito henchmen had found him already? How could anyone—much less Paul and Bart Anderson—have figured out where he’d decided to run to? Gabe hadn’t even known where he was going.

Shit.

He rocked his body forward, intending to stand up. Try to stand up.

“Not really.” Elton pushed to his feet much easier than Gabriel had. “But folks do stop by on occasion, just like you did the other day.”

Before Elton could shuffle to the door, the person on the other side hammered on it again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Give an old man a break.”

“Elton, it’s Casey, making sure everything’s alright.”

The now familiar yet irritatingly sexy growl made Gabriel’s jaw clench, his molars grinding against each other. He chose to ignore the other reactions from his body, like the spark in his gut.

“What is this guy’s problem?” he muttered under his breath as he sat down again. Was there somewhere Lundin avoided? That was where Gabriel wanted to hang out. Maybe. Again, Gabriel resolutely pushed away last night’s dream.

Ignoring Gabriel’s query, Elton opened the door. “Good morning, Casey. I’ve got coffee on. Can I top up your cup?” Magic words in the Pacific Northwest.

Scowling, Casey didn’t answer. He looked past Elton, directly at Gabriel. If it was possible to be burned to a crisp by a mere glance, Gabriel would have been vaporized.

“Thanks, but my travel mug is full.”

“Come on in.” Elton moved to one side so Lundin would be rude if he continued to refuse.

Lundin started to shake his head but stepped across the threshold. Elton shut the door behind him and trundled into the kitchen.

Not acknowledging each other, Gabriel and Lundin watched Elton pluck a clean mug out of the dish drainer and pour coffee into it. Gabriel sipped at his brew. He refused to make small talk. Lundin was doing his best to make life harder for him, so he could fuck right off.

“Here you go, save your travel coffee for later.” Elton handed the mug to Lundin and started for his chair again. “ No reason why we can’t have a civilized cuppa before getting on with the day’s business.”

Gabe allowed his gaze to drift to Ranger Man. At the park the other night, he’d estimated the guy was in his mid-thirties, and his assessment had been right. Gabe’s thoughts should have stopped there, but they took a detour, noting that Lundin was very fit, filling out his uniform much better than Smokey the Bear probably did. Unlike the idiots at the gas station, Lundin’s auburn beard was clipped and close cut, which Gabe found stupidly hot. He was always drawn to guys with nice beards.

No. No. No.

The Ranger may be hot and tick far too many of Gabe’s boxes physically, but his personality left a lot to be desired. He wasn’t in the market for romance of any kind with anyone. History proved he didn’t make the best choices—not even reasonably good ones. Lundin was a grouchy asshole and if Gabe decided that didn’t matter, there was probably some other unmanageable character flaw. He’d trusted Peter and look where that’d gotten him.

“Did you stop by for civilized conversation? I can’t imagine Bowie’s lacking in that,” Elton said when he was comfortable in his recliner again.

Lundin’s sideways gaze snagged Gabe’s. Oops. Ranger Man raised a dark red eyebrow. The glance confirmed what Gabriel suspected: Lundin was checking up on him, making sure he hadn’t made off with the silver.

Admit it, Chance. You aren’t finding that as annoying as you should.

Dammit. Character flaw, he reminded himself.

What could he tell Elton? That he’d ticketed Gabriel for trespassing? Big fucking deal. That he didn’t trust Gabriel? Well, get in line, he wasn’t the only one. Maybe he’d run the Honda’s plates and knew the car wasn’t registered to Gabe. That could be a problem. Could park rangers do that? It was probably a good thing he was leaving the con life behind; Gabe just wasn’t equipped for dealing with new-to-him levels of law enforcement anymore.

“Let’s see.” Lundin looked at Gabe again before focusing on Elton. “I’m checking in because I worry about you. You need a dog. There’s an older hound at the rescue right now. If you don’t want to drive over to meet her, I bet Nina would let me bring her to you.”

Elton made a sound that told Gabe they’d had this conversation more than once.

“And when I kick the bucket, just what is this dog gonna do?”

Lundin looked pleased. At least, Gabe thought his lips curved ever so slightly upward.

“That’s not a flat-out no. I’ll call the shelter this afternoon and see what we can set up. What else?” Ranger Man frowned. “It’s been damn busy and Greta’s not back until next week. The other day, I busted the Perkinses up The Valley harvesting chanterelles. There was some sort of fire at Paulson Point. The usual offseason trespassing’s been going on in the park.” He shot Gabe a hard glance, then turned back to the old man. “Does all that count for civilized conversation?” he asked with what appeared to be an actual smile.

Dammit for real. Casey Lundin smiling was not fair, not fair at all. Luckily, the guy hated him because Gabe knew he’d be in trouble. Also, he’d just sworn off relationships for the foreseeable future. Note to self .

Elton chuckled. “It’ll do.” He took another sip out of his mug. “Don’t suppose you’ve heard from Gordon? I’ve been trying to reach him but haven’t been able to. And after all he’s been through, I worry.”

“I’ll keep my eye out for him. ”

“What else has been going on, aside from the usual from Calvin and Dwayne?” Elton asked. “Those two aren’t going to stop, you know, they’re just going to make it harder for you to catch them.”

“Yeah, true. Well, this guy”—Lundin pointed his chin Gabriel’s direction—“was one of the trespassers. Tried to stay over at the fort the other night.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” Gabriel replied hotly. “Other people were there too.”

“The kiosk at the park’s entrance was vandalized too. There’s never anything in it this time of year, but repairs will cost. And the Paulson Point thing.”

“It wasn’t by me,” Gabe protested. “I was here last night, ask Elton. Vandalizing property really isn’t my cup of tea.”

“Sounds like bored kids,” Elton interjected.

Gabriel scowled at Lundin. “I don’t even know what Paulson Point is. Do I look like I go around setting random fires to you? I promise you, I do not have that kind of energy. Jeez, I just fucking got here, in case you haven’t figured that out. I don’t even know where most places are.”

“Yeah, you did just get here, and I want to know why. What are you doing at Elton’s place?”

“Yeah, I don’t think you get to be privy to that information.” Gabe channeled his snottiest Heidi Karne impression.

Gabriel and Lundin glared at each other.

Elton cleared his throat. Reluctantly, they both returned their attention to the older man.

“Gabriel, Paulson Point is a marine park, takes up the southern tip of the island. You can only camp there if you paddle in, but there are some hiking trails and spots to park for those in the know.” Elton transferred his gaze to the ranger. “Casey, for your information, Gabriel is telling the truth, he was here last night. I could hear him snoring through the walls. Where exactly was the fire?”

Snoring? Had he snored? Gabriel shot a glance of disbelief Elton’s way. He shrugged.

“I talked to the TCSO on my way here,” Lundin said. “They say it was set nearer to the walk-in entrance rather than the boat-in end of the park. One of the locals saw what they thought were flames and called it in. A patrol car drove by. I didn’t hear about it until this morning, when Nolan stopped by my place for a chat.” He made a face like he’d sucked on a lemon. “But you’re right,” he admitted reluctantly, “it probably was kids.”

“How’d someone get a fire started in this weather?” Elton asked. “Never mind. Probably used fire putty.”

“I haven’t set fire to anything and have no idea what fire putty is,” Gabe chimed in. “My worst crime recently”—he definitely needed to use that qualifier—“has been the trespassing thing.”

Lundin took a long, deep sip of his coffee, eyeing Gabriel as if he wished he could see inside his head. For his part, Gabriel did everything he could not to shift around or act like he had a guilty conscience. What did he care what this guy thought of him?

Did. Not. Care.

Except that Lundin was Elton’s friend and had appointed himself the old man’s protector, so maybe that gave him a few points. Gabriel figured he should consider it. Maybe.

Was Casey Lundin the Don Quixote type? Tilting at windmills and not succeeding? Or was it tilting windmills and not succeeding? Fighting the good fight, whatever that was.

It exhausted Gabriel just thinking about it. He was not the man for the Good Fight. Not even the Good Scuffle. Anymore, he was the man for the Good Couch and the Good Crime Thriller. After a lifetime of moving from place to place, one con to the next, Gabe wanted a safe place to just be .

Gabe and Elton were quiet while Lundin stepped into the kitchen and set his empty mug in the sink.

“Like I said, I’ll keep a look out for Gordon.”

The front door shut behind him, and soon enough, Gabe heard a car start.

Elton cleared his throat. “Hungry? I know it’s not lunchtime, but I’m craving a grilled cheese. We can talk while I cook.”

Did he want to talk? It didn’t seem as if Elton had given him a choice.

And grilled cheese did sound tasty.