Chapter 16

"I'll be nice and let you have my muffin today."

Trisha attempted to smile at Steve. "I'm not hungry, but thanks."

She wasn't at all in the mood to make a statement today. Her head throbbed and she felt like an utter idiot for the entire ordeal. Wayne and Steve had joked about it, trying to tease her into feeling better even though they must've been worried. She'd known them all her life and Wayne was like a second father.

But it was Nick who royally pissed her off.

Last night, he cooed like she was a helpless female, then insulted her by implying she couldn't handle herself. Now, he barely glanced her way and acted as if he wasn't in the same station house with her. She despised games.

"So, I guess the last thing left to do is decide if you want to press charges."

Trisha tore her glare from where Nick was chatting with her parents and frowned at the deputy. "Do you think I should, Steve?"

"Well, that's up to you." He eyed her bruised cheek. "But personally, I'd love to haul his ass in here for you."

"All right, do it." She rose and pecked his cheek. "Thanks for everything last night, driving by the house and all."

Steve kicked his feet up onto the desk, crossing them, and leaned back in his chair. "I'd like to take all the praise, but it's Nick who sat outside of your house all night in the car, not me."

Really? Why? "Did he?"

"Yep." Steve wiggled his brows. "But you can kiss me again if you want."

Grinning, she leaned close to his ear. "I'll tell your wife you said so." While he was distracted, she snatched his muffin and winked. "Thanks for breakfast."

"You're a sneaky woman, Trish."

"I know." Rounding the desk, she hugged Wayne. "Thanks for everything. Let me know when you've got him."

"Sure will, apple. Take it easy today."

An hour later, Trisha set her bucket of cleaning supplies down and eyed the task ahead of her. Mike had left the bedroom a disaster. It would take all day to clean it up. She declined shopping with her mother and Nancy to fix this, and had left her father and the men to work the last of the spring chores in the orchard.

Grabbing a garbage bag, she decided to pack his clothes first. Snatching the ones on the floor, she shoved them into the bag. She should have brought a nose plug. Tossing that bag aside in the hallway, she grabbed another for the closet.

He didn't have much. There were no family heirlooms in the room, no mementos. The walls were bare and lifeless, as if he didn't matter to anyone at all. Suddenly saddened, she set aside the last two bags of clothes and began compiling garbage.

She had a wonderful, loving family. Some were the men who worked the orchard-not for her, but with her. There were her parents who, without hesitation, had taken in a stray three-year-old to raise as their own. Eduardo and Nancy, like an aunt and uncle more than staff, would do anything for her. And here she was, cleaning up the life of a man no one knew.

Pitching the garbage bags out the window in order to not pass the stink to the rest of the home, she pondered if she could have done something more for Mike. After capping the whiskey bottle he'd left on the nightstand, she stripped the bed. No sense in keeping the sheets. Better off burning them.

She was just about to mop the floor when she heard footsteps behind her.

"You got most of it done." Brad's gaze did a quick scan of her.

"Yeah." She sighed and peered around. "I'll need a bleach bath after this."

Instead of grinning, he grabbed a mop. "I'll help."

"No." She reached for the mop. "This is my fault, my mess. I'll do it."

His eyes heated. "This is not your fault." Then his tone softened with his gaze. "The spring duties are done. You know it'll be slow after this for a while. I'll help."

"All right, thanks." She gave in and went to move around him for dusting supplies.

He gripped her arm and hauled her to him in a fierce hug. Clenching her tight, he went rigid and grasped her hair in an extremely rare display of helplessness. Pressing his cheek to the top of her head, he shuddered through an exhale. "You took ten years off my life yesterday."

He'd been her constant and best friend since her parents had first brought her home thirty years ago, and never in her recollection had he ever hugged her desperately and said anything of the sort.

Guilt swamped her and threatened to take over, settling heavy in her belly. She leaned back and pressed her palms to his cheeks, rising on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his forehead. "I know. I'm so sorry."

He cleared his throat and stepped back, the tender moment ebbing away.

"You remember in fourth grade when that brat Alex was picking on Chuck for being overweight?" She was pleased to see his wry grin return.

"Yeah." He made a sound that almost passed as a laugh. "You marched across the lunchroom and slapped him in front of the whole school. Nearly got suspended."

"So you know I can handle myself and defend my own."

For a moment, he looked like that young boy who befriended her all those years ago. "I know, Trish. Just don't do that ever again."

Breathing out a laugh, she hugged him again. "Yes, sir."

"Am I interrupting?"

The voice she was growing to like and hate equally sounded behind her. When she turned, Nick had a self-righteous frown on his face as he leaned against the doorway.

Trisha smelled jealousy and stiffened her spine. He was the one who had doused them in ice water on their date, so he had no right to be jealous. "What can I do for you, Nick?"

His eyes shifted to Brad then back to her. "We've got Mike Peltzer in lock-up. We want you to come back to the station."

Brad sighed and met her gaze. "I'm going with you."

She placed a hand on his arm. "I've got this. Can you finish up here?"

Brad glowered at Nick, and then looked at her for a long beat. "If you want."

"I do." She rose up on her toes and pecked his cheek to diffuse the anxiety there. "I'll be back soon. Get Andrew or Chuck to help you if you need it. I'll buy new sheets and a comforter while I'm in town."

"Fine."

Pushing past Nick, Trisha marched down the hallway. Without turning around, she barked at him, "Grab those bags, they come with us."