The Time in Between by Kristen Ashley


  It was there I saw Coert plodding up them with Midnight at his side. The house behind him was dark.

  He sensed me, his head went back but his step didn’t falter when he demanded, “Cady, get back in bed.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Back in bed and I’ll tell you.”

  There was something about him that I couldn’t quite read.

  But since we were going to end up there anyway regardless of where we had our conversation, I retraced my steps, pulled off my cardigan and was throwing it on the chair when Coert came into the room.

  He had his gun belt in his hands and was walking to the closet.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked again when he didn’t launch in, studying him as he moved into the closet.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, hooking his gun belt where he always hooked it on the catch by the door and then pulling out the gun.

  I moved closer to watch as he shoved it in the safe on a shelf in the closet (where he always shoved it).

  I also watched him close the door to the safe and heard the electronic noises as he hit buttons.

  What I didn’t hear was Coert explain his, “I don’t know.”

  “Coert—”

  He turned his head to look at me and his hands went to his shirt. “Cady, you don’t have to stay up when I have a callout.”

  “I normally don’t. But the roads were bad and I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Right,” he muttered, unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Coert.” That came out sharper. “You’re being strange.”

  He looked at me, rolling his shoulders to tug his shirt off.

  Even doing that was attractive on Coert.

  “How am I being strange?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, and I didn’t, but he was.

  “You’re not normally up when I get back from a callout,” he pointed out.

  “That might be so but it isn’t that.”

  And it wasn’t!

  He was now in jeans, boots and Henley.

  He went for the Henley.

  “It was just an accident on bad roads,” he told me.

  “That requires the presence of the sheriff?” I asked, because now I was curious about the answer seeing as that wouldn’t seem to me to be a reason to drag the sheriff from his bed when he wasn’t taking call.

  As upsetting as it was, that would seem routine.

  “Alcohol was involved,” he shared.

  “And that requires your presence?” I pressed.

  He freed himself from his Henley and I was not accustomed to the brilliance of his bare chest right there for me to take in happily before I had more to take in happily when he shot me one of his crooked grins.

  I grew still.

  Coert stated, “The person drinking was Boston Stone.”

  I stayed still but felt my eyes get huge.

  “What?” I breathed.

  “Apparently, he went from here to Magdalene Club, probably to bitch about me to his cronies. He threw back a few and then threw back a few more. Fortunately for him, he also had dinner in between doing that. He was point one, not bad, but since the limit is point oh eight, he was definitely OUI and the other driver was not.”

  “OUI?”

  “Operating Under the Influence.”

  Ah.

  “Was anyone hurt?” I asked.

  “None of them will feel good tomorrow,” he told me. “The other car held a couple coming back from some anniversary party in Shepherd. The husband had been drinking, but he was well under the limit. They both reported they didn’t want to go because of the weather, but it was her aunt and uncle’s fiftieth so it was a big thing. They also both reported he was driving safely, maybe going twenty, twenty-five in a forty, due to the roads. The damage of the vehicles would say both cars were going the speed limit or slightly over, which meant Stone had to be going sixty or more.”

  “Oh my God, that’s crazy,” I replied.

  Coert nodded. “Air bags inflated, seatbelts dug in, lots of damage to both cars and they were jerked around a lot. They’ll all be sore and maybe bruised tomorrow but that’s it. EMT says they were all good so they all went home, except Stone, who’s in the tank.”

  Abruptly, a giggle escaped me.

  Coert used his toes to flip off one of his boots and his eyes were twinkling. “I know.”

  “I . . . this is . . . I don’t know what to say,” I stammered.

  “I do since he’s been caught by a deputy driving just under OUI, breathalyzer put him at point oh seven, and he was warned. He’s never been arrested before so he doesn’t have a record of it, so also no conviction, but this isn’t good for him and the last half hour I spent at the station I spent on the phone with reporters from the Forecast and the Daily News.”

  Now I knew why he was being strange.

  He was setting me up for the good stuff.

  “Poor Mr. Stone,” I said smugly.

  “Of course, Stone is saying this is police corruption, the breathalyzer reading in the field was full of shit since I have it out for him so I set my deputies on him, conspiring to pin an OUI on him when he wasn’t over the limit.”

  I lost my smug feeling immediately.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Cady, don’t worry. My deputies were nowhere near the scene when he hit that couple’s car, so that’s on him. But they did hit the Magdalene Club and got patrons and staff statements that Stone was there drinking regularly for several hours before he left, got into his car and drove away. And the idiot did this after the valet questioned his ability to drive, asked if he’d like him to call a taxi, and Stone demanded to talk to the Club manager and made a formal complaint against the valet for making such a suggestion that he was too inebriated to drive. He then demanded he be given his keys even if the valet and manager weren’t comfortable with it. So not only was the man too drunk to drive, he did it even after the establishment he was drinking at advised him against it and made record of that advisement and the complaint, so they didn’t get their shit in a sling should something like what happened happen. The manager had already typed out the incident report before we got there. A copy of it is in Stone’s file at the station.”

  I couldn’t believe all of this.

  “How’d he get rich if he’s this stupid?” I asked.

  Coert shrugged, having undone his belt, he was yanking down his jeans. “He’s not stupid. He’s arrogant. And I’ll admit, that’s its own brand of stupidity and maybe a worse kind.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “So you don’t think this will cause you trouble?”

  Coert straightened from pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans, came to me, hooked me at the belly, turned me and guided me to bed.

  “I think he’ll bluster and storm and do everything he can to make problems for me, and when none of it has any effect, he’ll seethe and connive, and when none of that has any effect, he’ll find someone else to bother with his crap.”

  I crawled into bed feeling Coert follow me, stating, “I’m not sure I want to get to the seething and conniving part of that.”

  Coert pulled the covers over us and replied, “I think it’ll be funny.”

  I stared at him tossing his phone on the nightstand. “He has money and attorneys.”

  He turned to me. “He has money, yeah. And Terry Baginski is his attorney and her place on the tier of snakes and assholes of Derby County is second only to Boston Stone. That husband of my old deputy I was telling you about?”

  I nodded when he didn’t go on.

  He then went on.

  “He was a snake, best defense attorney in the county. Every law officer except his wife hated him and even she hated him after he won some of his cases. And he hated Baginski. Said she gave attorneys a bad name.”

  To that, he chuckled.

  Although I could understand his amusement, I wasn’t finding any of this funny.

  “Coert,” I said worr
iedly.

  He leaned into me, kissed my nose and pulled back.

  “Did I come home to you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Are we in my bed together, about ready to go to sleep?”

  I nodded.

  “We gonna wake up together?”

  “Yes, Coert.”

  “Are you having my baby?” he carried on.

  “Well, yes, even if that might maybe need the addition of ‘eventually,’” I replied.

  “Then fuck ’em,” he declared. “Some miracle happens and they cause problems for me, I’ll become a mall cop. What do I care?”

  I stared again.

  Coert twisted and turned off the light, then he reached well beyond me and turned off mine.

  He pulled me into his arms and deeper under the covers.

  “You sure you’re okay about all this?” I asked.

  “Yup.”

  Midnight jumped up on the bed then lay down with a groan, head on our ankles.

  “Go to sleep,” Coert ordered.

  I snuggled into him.

  “Love you, Cady.”

  “Love you too, honey.”

  It only took a few minutes, but I heard and felt his breath even.

  He was okay about all this.

  Completely.

  But that, I was learning, was Coert.

  He had me. He had Janie.

  So he was okay about everything.

  I grinned against his shoulder where my head lay.

  And then I fell asleep.

  I woke up alone in bed and I did this because I sensed movement in the room.

  I opened my eyes and saw it was still dark outside, which meant early.

  I pushed up to an elbow as I heard the pants of a dog.

  “You awake?” Coert asked.

  “Yes,” I replied sleepily.

  The bedside light went on.

  I blinked against the bright and then saw Coert standing beside the bed, dressed in his work gear.

  My eyes dropped to his alarm clock.

  It was just after six.

  He got up around this time every day, but by “up” that meant rolled out of bed.

  I looked up at him again. “Wha—?”

  I didn’t even get the full word out when his hand came up in front of his chest and he waved a box in front of him.

  “Out of bed, baby,” he said.

  I looked from the box to him and felt my lips curl.

  Then I felt a brow go up.

  “Impatient?” I asked.

  He raised a brow back. “You want me to carry you to the toilet?”

  “I think I can get there on my own,” I mumbled, throwing back the covers, taking the hit of cold and tossing my legs over the side of the bed.

  Coert met me at the foot, handing me the box but did it catching me at the back of the neck and pulling me up to him so he could touch his lips to mine.

  When he lifted his head he said, “No worries about the results. If it’s a negative, we got time for another go before I go to work.”

  I started giggling.

  He let my neck go but only to pat my behind before he planted his hand there and pushed me to the bathroom when I didn’t move fast enough.

  I got behind closed doors, opened the box, read the directions, did my thing and then set the test on a few folded squares of toilet paper before I washed my hands and opened the bathroom door.

  Coert sauntered in.

  Midnight sat in the door.

  “She go out?” I asked, grabbing my toothbrush.

  “Yep,” he answered.

  “You feed her?” I asked, loading my toothbrush.

  “Yep.”

  I brushed my teeth.

  Coert leaned on the wall by his sink where I’d laid the pregnancy test, his arms crossed on his chest, his eyes on the test.

  I took my brush out of my mouth and garbled through foam, “A watched pot never boils.”

  I got his hazel as he returned, “A smartass always can get spanked.”

  Something new to try.

  I grinned at him through foam.

  He shook his head and looked back down at the test.

  I knew it the instant he did because the air in the room changed.

  And this was because the world had just changed.

  I was turning the faucet off after rinsing and it felt like it took a century to straighten from the sink and turn my gaze to him.

  He was in the same position, casually leaning against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest, his attention on the test, but there was no longer anything casual about his posture.

  “Honey?” I whispered.

  His hazel hit me again, the fathomless depth to it now utterly fascinating, and I started tingling from head to toe.

  “Yes?” I asked, but I knew.

  “Yes,” he answered even though he knew I knew.

  “Yes?” I repeated stupidly, just because I wanted to hear him say it again.

  “Yeah, Cady.”

  My eyes started filling and my feet moved.

  Coert moved too.

  He wasn’t very far away but in that short distance both of us had gathered enough velocity, when we slammed into each other it felt like the whole of the earth shook.

  He caught me around my thighs and back and lifted me straight up.

  I grabbed either side of his face and brought my lips straight down.

  Both of our mouths were open when they collided.

  Midnight woofed.

  She also scuttled out of the way as Coert carried me to bed kissing me.

  He landed on top of me but shifted immediately to the side, though only to pull my nightie up.

  When it was gone, he rolled back on top of me.

  “Put that thing in my nightstand, we’re never throwing away,” he growled.

  I didn’t have to ask if he meant the test.

  I knew.

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  “Shimmy outta those panties, baby, this is gonna go fast,” he ordered.

  I moved instantly to do as told. “Okay.”

  “Love you, Cady.”

  “Love you most.”

  His hand settled at my belly. “I get that now, you not wasting any time giving me this.”

  “I think you had something to do with that, honey.”

  He grinned his crooked grin.

  They were coming more often now.

  Oh yes, he was getting used to happy.

  “Yeah,” he murmured.

  Then he kissed me.

  And we went fast.

  Most

  Cady

  Present day . . .

  Coert slid out of the booth and stood the second I entered the door to join him for lunch at Weatherby’s, and he did this because that was what he always did when he was there before I arrived.

  I hurried to him, leaned into him with a hand at his stomach and one at his neck and accepted the light kiss he bent to give me.

  He waited by the booth as I slid in my side before he slid in his.

  “Well?” we said at the same time.

  I started laughing.

  Coert did not.

  “You first,” he ordered as I pulled off my coat.

  I tucked it beside me and then looked right into hazel.

  “My doctor confirmed it. We’re having a baby.”

  He closed his eyes. Dropped his head. Lifted his head. Opened his eyes.

  Love and gratitude.

  His best look.

  Bar none.

  Though I’d take just the love part of that.

  He reached across the table, grabbed my hand and held tight.

  “Coke. Diet Coke. Cheeseburger. And patty melt,” our waitress, who I’d come to know in all my meetings with Coert for lunch at Weatherby’s was named Marjorie, said. “Or are we goin’ out on a limb today?”

  “Just water for me,” I told her. “But yes on the patty melt.”

  “That wo
rks for me as is,” Coert replied.

  “Gotcha. Comin’ up,” she mumbled, turned and walked away.

  I looked at Coert and resumed with my news. “So we’re good, honey. I’m healthy. She foresees no problems. I’m on vitamins now and have all my appointments scheduled.”

  “You need to send those to Monica so she can get them in my calendar.”

  Coert wanting to be involved every step of the way didn’t surprise me.

  But it did make me very happy.

  “I’ll do that after I’m done at the Society this afternoon,” I confirmed.

  Coert nodded and asked, “No caffeine?”

  “Just a cup in the morning.”

  His eyes lit up. “It’s go time.”

  That was when I nodded.

  It was go time.

  Go time, destination—the arrival of Coert and my baby.

  And there we were. Sitting at one of our lunches at a diner, holding hands.

  Caught up.

  “But otherwise good,” he stated softly, but it was a question.

  “No. You see, I’m pregnant so otherwise great.”

  At that, he smiled.

  “Now your turn,” I prompted.

  He nodded yet again.

  “Did what I said at breakfast I was gonna do. Went in, didn’t have cause to request a warrant and didn’t find cause to push anything when I arrived at the property. Still, to say the person who answered the door was freaked the sheriff was asking questions about a dog they gave up that showed signs of abuse, and then he pressed to know if they owned any pets, is putting it mildly.”

  Good.

  I liked freaked.

  Freaked in this case was brilliant.

  “It was a woman,” Coert shared. “She said Midnight was her husband’s dog and they had to give her up because he lost his job and they didn’t have the money to keep her anymore. He’s employed now so he wasn’t around. I pushed and she’s sticking with the foot in a trap story but the longer I went at her, the more freaked she got. In the end I told her me or one of my deputies was coming around that evening to talk to the husband. She said they’d be out. I said we’d come back until someone could chat with her husband. So that happened. Now, did you tell Kath about the baby?”

  I shook my head.

  “The doctor says it’s very early. I want to wait a few more weeks. She’d lose her mind if I pushed it through the first trimester before I told her but just a couple more weeks, make sure it’s all going well, and then I’ll give her the good news. Now, are you actually going back to talk to the husband?”

 
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