Clear Intent Page 4

  “Come on back to the kitchen.” She led the way past the registration counter, her skin warming from his proximity as he followed her to the back. Trying not to let her nervousness show, she opened the refrigerator to retrieve the pitcher of tea she’d made that morning. She filled a tumbler with ice and poured the tea before handing him the glass.

  He did that gaze-locking thing again, this time without the sunglasses to diffuse the intensity, and had her heart thumping unsteadily. He took the glass from her, tipping it back and swallowing the contents in three gulps, never once breaking the long, cool stare.

  Desperate to cut the tension, she smiled brightly and rushed to say, “It sure is hot today. I don’t know how you can stand to wear the bulletproof vest in addition to the rest of your gear. It makes me grateful I can wear summer dresses and work in an air-conditioned office.” And now she was babbling.

  That had his gaze traveling slowly over her. While the dress she’d chosen for work covered a lot more skin than the one she’d worn to the barbecue, his heated gaze made her hyperaware that her arms were bare below the capped sleeves, and that the hem of the swishy skirt barely brushed the tops of her knees.

  “I’m grateful you can wear summer dresses, too.”

  She opened her mouth and, for the first time in her life, didn’t have a quick comeback. She shut it again, her teeth meeting with a snap.

  “You’re flustered.” He threw his head back and gave a rich, throaty laugh. “That’s gratifying.”

  “I am not flustered. I’m just never sure with you. That could have been a compliment, or a casual observation.”

  “It was a statement of heartfelt appreciation. You’re a looker, Isadora, but you already know that, and you play up those looks with the clothes you wear.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Now you’re suggesting I’m vain, and I’m not.”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t suggesting you’re vain. My point is that you understand your assets and build on them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “I see. I build on my assets like you do, right? You know you have a great body, and you must lift weights to get that build. So you’re doing the same thing.”

  His brows lowered in a frown. “I have to be in good physical shape for my job. That’s different.”

  “I have to look presentable for my job, so how is it different?”

  His quick grin made her realize he rarely directed smiles at her. “Got me there.” He set his glass on the counter, his expression settling into serious lines. “Look, I came to tell you something.”

  Her heart gave an instinctive lurch, before settling again. Whatever he’d come to tell her, it couldn’t have anything to do with Adrian or her parents. He would have told her that the moment he’d gotten out of the car. Still, she found herself chewing on her bottom lip. “About what?”

  “Rodrigo.”

  Fear lanced through her, a reflexive action whenever her ex-husband’s name came up.

  “Did he escape?”

  “No.”

  “What then?”

  He reached for her hands where she’d clutched them together, prying them apart and holding them securely. “He’s been moved to a conservation camp.”

  “A conservation camp? What’s that?”

  “There are conservation camps throughout the state where inmates who have earned the privilege can continue serving their time. At the camps they get training and work on fire prevention and firefighting.”

  “Wait, aren’t I supposed to be notified when there’s a change in Rodrigo’s placement?”

  “You are. The Department of Corrections dropped the ball on this.”

  “There’s something more, isn’t there?”

  He nodded, his thumb stroking her knuckles. “He’s been at the camp outside of Bishop since the beginning of summer.”

  Dory drew in a sharp breath. “He’s allowed to be less than forty miles from here? How is that possible?”

  “I know that makes you uneasy, Dory, but you’re safe. There’s good security in place at these camps, and Rod has been a model inmate. He hasn’t broken any rules or gotten into any trouble. He’s been on several work details and was assigned as a firefighter to that fire south of Lake Sabrina last month. Each time he did his job and didn’t cause any problems.”

  “That’s only so he can get a reduced sentence. You don’t know him like I do, Jack. He’ll come after me the minute he can.”

  She tugged her hands free and stepped back, her movements jerky. “I need to put the plan into practice,” she muttered more to herself than to him.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You were there, weren’t you, during Rodrigo’s trial?” At the time, she’d been confused by Jack’s presence in the courtroom. She’d thought maybe he’d been there to support Rodrigo, despite that they had grown apart as friends in the four or five years leading up to Rodrigo’s arrest. But now, she wondered if there was a different explanation for Jack’s presence. One that had more to do with her.

  “I was.”

  “Then you heard what he said. That I was lying, that I’d been having an affair, that I’d given myself bruises, and then lied about him hitting me.”

  “I heard all that.”

  “Then you also heard him say that I’d never be free of him. The way he said it, the look in his eyes—I believed him. He’ll come after me, Jack, and he means to hurt me, the minute he has a chance.”

  “Look, I don’t trust Rodrigo either, and I don’t like that he’s on this side of the mountains. But he’s towed the line the entire time he’s been behind bars. For a guy who’s always had trouble controlling his impulses, that’s huge. But I agree that he’s simply biding his time. Any self-restraint he’s learned it’s with the goal of getting out of prison as soon as possible, and when he’s out, I have no doubt he’ll come after you. He sees you as more of a possession than a person, and he’ll want to reclaim that possession.”

  His declaration made her realize that he understood why she was so afraid. She’d never entertained the thought that Jack Morgan really got how she felt about her ex-husband. “I can’t help but think Rodrigo being assigned to one of those camps so close to home is part of a plan. I’m not safe, and Adrian’s not safe.” Her voice wavered. She hated that her ex-husband had the power to affect her so profoundly.

  “Look at me, Dory.” She raised her gaze to Jack’s. “You are safe. Tell me what plan you’re talking about.”

  “My plan for when Rodrigo finished his sentence and was released from prison was my dad would install security cameras around my house. I’m going to have him do that now. And I have plans in place for me and Adrian to go to a safe house once Rodrigo is out if I feel like he’s stalking me.” She shrugged. “I’m also thinking of buying a gun.”

  “You are not buying a gun.”

  One bossy comment from Jack and her back was up. “I can get a gun if I want. You can’t stop me.”

  “Like hell I can’t. You don’t have any training with a firearm, and you have an eight-year-old. With a gun in the house, you or your son are more likely to be hurt than any criminal.”

  “I’m not sure where you got the idea that you’re the boss of me, but you’re not. I don’t trust Rodrigo, and I can get training. You could even teach me. What I do know is I’m not going to sit around and wait for something bad to happen. I won’t be a victim ever again. I have to do something.”

  “Slow down for one damn minute. It’s smart to have plans to protect yourself, but the first one should be to come to the police station and sit down with Brad and me. We’ll work out a plan together that uses the resources of the police department. But Dory? Rod’s still incarcerated. You’re safe.”

  Jack’s steadiness helped calm her nerves. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again to look at his patient expression. “You’re right.” She found she had her arms crossed tightly under her breasts and made herself release them. “Rodrigo scares me.
When the judge handed down his sentence, he looked at me with such hate, and I know he still holds that inside him. He wants to hurt me.”

  Jack moved directly in front of her, gaze locked on hers. “He’ll have to get through me to do that.”

  “I can call the police, but there’s still response time. It could take up to ten minutes before you get to where I am, and a lot can happen in ten minutes.” She shook her head. “I have to be able to protect Adrian and myself.”

  “The minute Rod gets out of prison, I’ll be dogging his every move. Trust me on this.”

  As much as she’d like to lean on Jack for protection, she needed to stand on her own, and be ready to defend herself and her son. Despite that reality, her fear eased at Jack’s words, and Dory surprised herself by yearning for something more from him.

  She thought he might make a move to touch her, and the way his gaze settled on her lips was almost tangible. The kiss the night before was right there like a neon sign, blinking brightly between them. She learned forward, but at that moment the front door opened and she heard Emma talking on her cell as she came into the building.

  God, what had she been thinking? “I need to get back to work.” Her words came out in a rush.

  Jack gave a curt nod. “Yeah, me too. I’m going to give the supervisor of the conservation camp where Rodrigo’s been placed a call. I’ll get a commitment that they notify me if Rod’s placement changes, and when he goes out on a work detail.”

  “Thank you, Jack.”

  He looked like he was going to say something more, but then turned and walked away.

  ***

  Rodrigo Calderon knew how to play the game. Keep your head down, don’t question orders, and don’t draw attention to yourself. He didn’t want to be the hardest worker and get singled out for praise, and he didn’t want to be the slacker who needed to be pushed. Going unnoticed, unremarked upon, served him perfectly. The plan worked. The commander of the camp, the assistant commander, the guards who supervised the work crews, they all ignored him, and that’s exactly how he wanted it.

  The guard he’d named pork belly called a break. With a massive belly that overwhelmed his belt and a face bearing an uncanny resemblance to a pig, the nickname was well-deserved. Rod rested his Pulaski, the firefighter’s tool that was half axe and half adze, against a tree, next to TJ’s. TJ was an idiot, but the idiot had decided at some point that they were best buds, and Rod went along with it, at least for the time being. In the months that he’d known him, the asshole had never once had an original thought. Instead, he had the irritating habit of repeating whatever anyone said like he’d just come up with a new idea. But Rod might be able to use TJ, so he let the guy think they were friends until it suited him not to. And once he was done with him, nothing was going to stop him from slamming his fist in the guy’s ugly face for having had to put up with his shit.

  He grabbed iced bottles of Gatorade and threw one to TJ. The blazing sun beat down hot as hell. Sweat had soaked the long-sleeved shirt he wore, seeping under his hard hat.

  Once he’d learned that inmates with good records while incarcerated could volunteer for the conservation camps, Rodrigo had made that his goal. The camps had no concertina wire or electric fencing or guard towers. Inmates were free to move around, they could go to the gym to work out, or the rec room where there was a TV and pool table. There were even crafts, like it was a fucking Boy Scout camp.

  They got paid fucking slave wages, but it was something. And the food was a cut above what they got in prison. All he had to do was have his head counted every two hours and work the shit job. So he’d done what he’d had to do, which meant keeping his mouth shut and his fists unclenched.

  He’d started working out as best he could with the prison facilities as a way of channeling the rage that surged through him whenever he thought of Dory. Sweet Dory, who on their wedding day had sworn to love and honor him, had dared to stand in front of the fucking judge and say he’d beaten her, and hit the kid, too. If he had, it was because they’d deserved it. She’d violated the sanctity of their marriage, first by serving him with divorce papers, and then by having the audacity to speak out against him in court.

  That alone would have been enough to earn her a reckoning, but then she’d gone one giant step farther. A shyster lawyer had sent a letter with notification of a court hearing. He’d stared at the fucking letter while a red haze had stained his vision. Dory wanted to change Adrian’s last name from Calderon to her maiden name, Morales. That had been the one of the few times while in prison that he hadn’t been able to control the rage that surged through him.

  Luckily he hadn’t been sharing a cell at the time, so he’d succeeded in beating his fists bloody against the concrete wall instead of killing someone. It wasn’t that he cared about the kid, it was the principle of the matter. Adrian was his son. His. And Dory dared to remove the proof of Rodrigo’s parentage. Dory belonged to him. Adrian belonged to him. And as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he’d remind them both of that reality.

  “Hey, Pulaski, get over here.”

  All the crew members were referred to by the tool they used rather than their name. He looked over and realized pork belly was motioning to him. Shit. He hadn’t done anything to get himself in trouble, he was sure of it. But any attention was bad attention. Rodrigo capped his Gatorade and dropped it into the cargo pocket of his orange pants and ambled over, careful to keep his movements relaxed. The commander of the camp, Gonzalez, sat in his truck with the window down while Rodrigo talked to pork belly. The wuss didn’t want to leave the air-conditioned comfort of his vehicle.

  “You’re Rodrigo Calderon.” Gonzalez fixed him with a hard stare.

  Rodrigo bit his tongue at the urge to call the guy an asshole genius, since his name was printed on his shirt. Instead he gave a non-threatening nod. “That’s me.”

  “Got a call about you.”

  Rodrigo didn’t say anything even when everything inside him went on alert. He was totally fucked if they yanked him back to prison. It had taken months of meticulous planning, of watching every word coming out of his mouth, of following orders like he didn’t have a working brain cell in his own head, to get to a conservation camp. Getting assigned to this camp in particular was like a gift from God.

  “Yeah?” He kept his tone carefully modulated. Don’t act cocky. Don’t act threatening. Don’t act anything.

  “Captain from Hangman’s Loss PD called checking on you. Didn’t like that you’d been assigned to a camp so close to your hometown.”

  “That so?”

  “Yeah, that’s so.” Gonzalez kept his sharp gaze aimed at him like he was waiting for any reaction, for any reason to kick Rodrigo back to prison. “Apparently you made threats against your ex at your trial. He’s concerned you’re close enough to get a hankering to go after her.”

  Rodrigo dropped his head like there was remorse in his soul. “I was in a bad place in my life, then, sir. I’ve moved on.”

  He lifted his head and Gonzalez gave him a curt nod. “He asked for me to keep a special eye on you, give him a report when you’re on a work detail or fire crew. I’m going to do that, so make sure you don’t step out of line, Calderon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gonzalez put the truck in gear, and Rodrigo found himself calling out. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, who was it that asked for the updates on me?”

  “Captain Jackson Morgan. You know him?”

  Rodrigo gave a casual shrug, like the name didn’t make him want to slam a fist into the commander’s smug face. “He’s a guy I went to high school with, that’s all.”

  Break over, Rodrigo picked up his Pulaski and fell into line with the rest of the crew. TJ was babbling about it being spaghetti night when they got back to camp, his voice irritating like a fly buzzing around his head.

  Dory would pay. All the losers in that fucking town would pay for the way he’d been treated. But making Jack Morgan pay would be esp
ecially sweet. He’d pay for turning his back on their friendship, pay for putting cuffs on him—for arresting him.

  Rodrigo had always known his so-called friend had a thing for Dory, and Rodrigo hadn’t been above rubbing his face in it. He’d made sure Jack was looking when Rodrigo pulled Dory into his arms for a hot kiss, and he’d relished describing with great detail the first time he’d talked Dory into getting naked with him.

  He wondered how long Jack had waited to fuck Dory once Rodrigo was out of the picture. He’d pay for that most of all.

  Rodrigo threw his back into clearing the underbrush that was choking the firebreak. The backbreaking work was finally enough to get TJ to shut the hell up. As he worked, Rodrigo planned. He’d keep his head down, and he’d be ready, because when the opportunity presented itself, he was going to pay the good folks of Hangman’s Loss a little visit.

  Chapter Five

  All day Dory stayed vigilant, looking for evidence of the fire spreading. By the time she left the resort to drive around the lake and pick up Adrian from his camp, the northern sky was blurred brown with smoke and tiny bits of ash drifted down like sooty snowflakes, but the fire was too far away to know in what direction it would spread. She hoped the firefighters would be able to contain the blaze before it wreaked the kind of devastation other fires in California had caused in recent years.

  She tuned the car radio to pick up the station out of Bishop, the newscaster reporting that, so far, the wind was pushing the flames to the west and away from her little town. Despite the overlying fear that the fire could shift at any minute, her mind refused to let go of the information Jack had passed on to her. Ever since that horrible evening when Rodrigo had tried to abduct her, and only Emma and Maddy’s intervention had prevented that from happening, Dory had been able to rest easy because the man who had used her as his personal punching bag was locked behind solid steel bars.

  Only now, instead of steel bars, if there was any barrier, it was likely to be only wire fencing. During the afternoon she’d spent some time on the internet, researching the California conservation camps. By the time she was done reading what she could find, her shoulders and neck muscles were stiff with tension. She’d learned that only inmates who had not shown any violent behavior while incarcerated could be assigned to one of these minimum-security camps. She gave a humorless laugh, because she knew something the wardens didn’t know. Rodrigo Calderon was a grand manipulator. He was smart, smart enough to con them into believing he could be trusted. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d played the system to get what he wanted, and that was to be physically closer to her and the retribution she knew without doubt he was planning to exact the minute he had the chance.