“Then you should probably take backup,” Yancy said, the concern in his voice.
Leigh slid a glance to Cullen, maybe deciding that he could play backup if necessary. Maybe also calculating how long it would delay this visit if she had to wait for one of the other deputies to arrive.
“I have a license to carry,” Cullen simply reminded her. “And you know I’m carrying.” Though the reminder wasn’t necessary since she’d seen him fire at the SUV that had attacked them.
“All right, I can legally deputize you,” Leigh said after a short pause. “Temporarily deputize you,” she emphasized.
Cullen didn’t smile. Or curse. But he wasn’t sure how he felt about being a cop. Even a temporary one. Still, this was about protecting Leigh and getting answers, so he’d handle the deputy label for the next couple of hours.
Leigh started toward the door but then stopped and looked at Yancy. “If possible, arrange the interviews so that Kali and Austin aren’t in here at the same time.”
Yancy assured her that he would, and Cullen and she headed out, only to have Leigh stop again when she glanced around the parking lot. “My cruiser’s wrecked,” she muttered.
“We can take my truck,” Cullen offered.
She didn’t turn him down, though Cullen suspected she would have preferred to use an official vehicle for this visit with a suspect. Especially since she might have to arrest the man. But if that happened, Cullen’s truck did have a narrow back seat they could use to transport him back to the police station.
Cullen deiced the windshield, noting that there were more people out and about now. People who noticed Leigh in the truck with him, and he wondered how much gossip and grief that was going to cause her.
“I’m muddying your reputation,” Cullen joked, hoping to get a smile out of her.
No such luck. She looked at him with a slew of emotions crossing her face. Two of those emotions might have been frustration and regret, but there was also the heat.
“I would kiss you here and now just because I’m riled enough at the people who love picking my every move apart.” Leigh took in a deep breath. “But that’d be using you.”
Now he smiled. “If you kissed me, I’m positive that I’d feel plenty of things, butusedisn’t one of them.”
She smiled, too, while shaking her head. Much to his disappointment though, she didn’t kiss him.
Cullen drove to her place on the edge of town. Her one-story white limestone house sat in the center of four acres surrounded by white fence. A small red barn was behind the house, and he spotted a couple of bay mares inside. He’d known that Leigh was a horse lover, which wasn’t a surprise since she’d been raised on a ranch.
He pulled up in front of her house, and both of them glanced around, looking for any signs of trouble, before she used her phone to disengage her security system. As they got out, Cullen pushed open the side of his jacket in case he had to go for his gun, but when Leigh unlocked the door and they went in, nothing seemed to be out of place.
“I won’t be long,” she said, leaving him in the foyer. But she only made it a couple of steps before she turned back, caught onto him.
And she kissed him.
Cullen didn’t even care that she’d chosen to do this behind closed doors. What he cared about was the instant slam of heat and need. The feel of her mouth. The pressure of her body against his. She didn’t linger long, just enough to assure him that this attraction wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Mumbling something he didn’t catch, she pushed away from him and headed for the hall. “Help yourself to whatever you find in the fridge.”
He wasn’t the least bit interested in her fridge and considered going after her and seeing how far he could take things. Of course, he already knew that would just lead them to bed, and they couldn’t take the time for that now. The sooner they got to Jimbo, the sooner they might have the answers they needed.
Forcing himself to go anywhere but to her bedroom, Cullen strolled into the living room. No fuss and frills here. There was a comfortable leather sofa the color of caramel, and from the looks of the way things were arranged, Leigh spent time in here reading, watching TV and working on a laptop that was open on a rustic coffee table.
He went to the fireplace to have a closer look at the single framed photograph on the mantel. A family shot of Cash, Leigh, their mother and their missing brother, Joe. It’d been taken when Leigh had been about five. That would have meant Cash was about seven and Joe three and a half. They were all smiling, and Cash was holding up a fish that he’d likely just caught.
It was a happy photo of a happy family, taken on a sunny summer day. There probably hadn’t been many happy days after that because by Cullen’s estimation, Joe had gone missing shortly afterward. A year later, Helen Mercer had died in a car accident that many had considered suicide. Losing her mother when she’d been so young was something they had in common.
“It used to hurt when I’d see that picture,” Leigh said from behind him.
Cullen looked back at her, at the clean pair of jeans she was wearing. She’d also freed her hair from the ponytail, and it fell loose just below her shoulders.
“But now it gives me, well, comfort,” she added. “Jeb took the picture. That’s why he’s not in it.”
She probably didn’t know that there was a tinge of bitterness in her tone when she said her father’s name, and Cullen doubted that photo would be there for a daily reminder had Jeb actually been a visual part of the “happy” scene.
“You remember your mom?” he asked.