v Ashley - Golden Trail

“Teach how you teach, Rocky,” he said quietly. “You don’t like their rules, break ‘em.”

She stared at him and she did this a long time before something unpleasant passed across her face and she looked to the side, hiding her expression from him.

“Roc,” he called.

“You know,” she told the wall, her voice quiet. “Jarrod always told me to do what they say, play by their rules. He never got what I was trying to do. He never told me to break the rules.” She looked back at him. “Eventually, I quit talking to him about it. It annoyed him that I didn’t listen. He knew so much more than me.”

He knew by her face and the tremor in her voice that this was bigger than her husband cheating on her. This cut deeper than infidelity.

“He knew more than you?” Layne asked.

“Well, yes, of course, Layne.” Her tone suddenly held the sharp edge of sarcasm. “He’s a surgeon. A medical doctor. He’s nearly a decade older than me and he’s had at least that much more schooling than me. He’s from the city, not a cowtown. His family lived in Paris for three years. He speaks fluent French. Of course he’d know more than me.”

The bastard made her feel small. Stupid and small.

Christ, but he was going to enjoy getting in that guy’s face.

“I take it Jarrod’s problem wasn’t just that he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants but he wasn’t much fun at home either,” Layne remarked.

“No,” Rocky answered on a whisper, her eyes glued to his. “He wasn’t much fun at home.”

They both fell silent and held each other’s eyes and Layne knew she was thinking the same thing he was thinking.

They had fun at home. Even when they were fighting, they had fun. They were young, they were in love, they had fantastic sex, he made decent money, she had a bright future, they both weren’t afraid to work hard, they got along and when they didn’t they fought clean, they made each other laugh and life was just fucking good. He had never, not once when they were living together, dreaded going home. When work was done or when he’d be heading home after drinks with the guys or doing an errand, he looked forward to going home to Rocky.

And now he knew she felt the same.

Slowly, his body tensed with expectation, and, fuck him, anticipation, as she began to lean toward him, saying, “Layne –” when they heard a key scrape the lock and she sat back and twisted her neck to look at the door.

Fuck!

His eyes went over the back of the couch to see Merry walk in.

“Sorry,” Merry said, closing the door behind him. “Saw your truck, brother, but to get to my bed, I gotta walk through this room.” He walked to the dining room table and tossed his keys on it, finishing with, “Hey Roc.”

“Hey Merry,” she replied and Layne looked at his watch.

It was nearly midnight and he needed to get his ass home, not just getting the fuck away from a Raquel Astley with passion in her eyes, or pain, but because his sons’ curfew was midnight and he needed to make sure they didn’t break it.

He lifted his feet off the coffee table and pushed up, muttering, “Gotta go.”

Merry was shrugging off his leather jacket. “Don’t mind me. I’m wiped. I’m goin’ straight to bed.”

Layne rounded the couch as he heard Rocky get up. “Gotta be home for the boys.”

Merry had wrapped his jacket around the back of a dining room chair and his eyes came to Layne.

“Heard the ‘dogs won,” he remarked.

“Yep,” Layne replied, coming to stand a few feet from Merry.

“They got talent this year,” Merry noted.

“Yep,” Layne agreed.

Merry’s eyes grew sharp. “Heard about Tripp, big man.”

“Figured that was makin’ the rounds,” Layne stated.

Rocky burrowed into her brother’s side until he slid an arm around her shoulders and she did this whispering, “It was bad, Merry.”

Merry looked down at her upturned face and nodded then looked back at Layne.

“You gonna do somethin’ about that?” he asked.

“Formal complaint,” Layne answered.

Merry shook his head, mumbling, “That isn’t what I’d do.”

No, Layne knew, that wasn’t what Merry would do. Merry had control, just not very much of it.

“There are times, man, when you gotta play it smart. This is one of those times,” Layne replied quietly.

Merry’s eyes fell to Layne’s gut, showing Layne they’d both learned the lesson about playing it smart. Then he looked back at Layne and nodded.

Then he said, “Welp, gotta hit the hay.” He leaned down and kissed the top of his sister’s head and after he did, she tipped her head back and grinned at him. He gave her shoulders a visible squeeze, let her go, walked to Layne, clapped him on the shoulder and then walked down the hall, saying, “’Night.”

“’Night, Merry,” Rocky called.

“Later,” Layne said and headed to the door.

Rocky followed him.

Merry had a two-bedroom condo. It wasn’t the greatest condo, it wasn’t shit. At his age, even after the divorce where he let his ex have the house, he could do better. Then again, he had an Excursion, a speed boat, a Harley, a timeshare in Florida and a taste for expensive whisky. Unlike Rutledge, to have expensive toys on a cop’s salary, Merry had to juggle and, sometimes, make sacrifices.

Layne opened the door and walked out into the cold. Rocky held the door open then moved to stand with a shoulder against the jamb, the door mostly closed, she’d wedged herself between them and her eyes were looking up at him.

“I’m sorry about Tripp, Layne,” she said gently.

“He’ll be okay,” Layne replied and she nodded.

“Thanks for helping with the apartment,” she said.

“Not a problem.”

Her eyes slid to the side and he watched her thinking.

He should say goodnight and get the fuck out of there. They didn’t need to go where they were heading tonight. They needed to stay focused. Both of them. They had what they had and then it went bad. That was a long time ago. He couldn’t get caught in the memories. The good times then and the way he was finding she was now didn’t change the fact that she’d turned her back and walked away and didn’t explain why. She’d torn out his heart and shattered his world. He didn’t see video of her taking it from the front and back but that would almost make it better, at least that was a reason.

“Even with all the dramas,” she broke into his thoughts, “it was a nice night, Layne.”

“Yep,” he agreed, finally got smart and drew a line under it, “later, Roc.”

Her face changed and he blocked reading it before she cleared her expression and nodded. “’Night, Layne.”

He turned and walked away, hearing the door click behind him and thinking any other night spent like that with any other woman, he would not be walking away, at least not until after breakfast.

But Raquel Merrick Astley was not any other woman.

He jogged down the stairs, walked to his truck and went home to his boys.

Layne was barely out of the shower, just beginning to towel off, when he heard the doorbell.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He was late. He was taking Rocky to Swank’s tonight, he’d been working the new case all day, he got caught up in it and he was late.

With drops of water still on his shoulders and chest, he wrapped the towel around his waist and strode swiftly out of his room and down the stairs. He went straight to the door, opened it, barely looking at her but the storm door was already opening and he smelled her perfume. He turned, saying, “Runnin’ late, Roc, come in and get yourself a beer. I’ll be down soon’s I can.”

Then he headed straight back up the stairs, hearing her heels on his wood floors and not noticing she didn’t say a word.

It had been two weeks since they’d put their plan into action and he was playing it smart. This was helped by the fact that her apartment was vacant and she was good to move in right away so she did. She spent her evenings shopping for shit for her house and Layne was dedicated to the cause of bringing down Rutledge but not so dedicated he’d go shopping.

They spent time together but not much. She was shopping and he was working this case. It wouldn’t take him long but it required time, planning, equipment and a shitload of field work. This was good. He’d been climbing the walls while recuperating. Being back out in the field felt fucking great.

The Sunday after their night that ended in pizza, beer and heartfelt conversation, Rocky came over with Merry and they ran the Rutledge case down for her. Then they watched football on TV. Then Merry left and Rocky stayed so Natalie Ulrich could see her car in his drive and know she was alone with him in his house. The boys came home from doing whatever it was they were doing and he got them down to homework and walked Rocky out to the car. He didn’t play make out because that was playing with fire. He just touched his lips to hers, opened the car door for her and stood in his drive watching her drive away. Then he went inside.

They’d had dinner together at Frank’s and coffees together at Mimi’s. She went to both subsequent Friday games with him, one away, the next one, last night, at home. She went with him but she sat with her Dad at the away game, Josie Judd and the girl posse at the home game, hanging with Layne, and, for show, on him, only at halftime. He didn’t know why she didn’t stand with him by the field, if it was because she felt responsible for what happened to Tripp or if she was giving him space. He also didn’t ask.

She’d started working Rutledge. She was breaking him in but Layne was too busy to be there so Merry was covering her. She’d gone three times to the Station on the pretence she needed to talk to or was meeting Merry. Merry made himself busy with bullshit work so she could wander over to Rutledge and strike up conversations. Only once was Layne close enough to go in and see her in action. When he topped the steps to the bullpen, she was sitting by Rutledge’s desk and they were both laughing though Rutledge was staring at her tits while he was laughing.

Seeing that, Layne had walked right up and claimed her, giving Rutledge a cursory greeting and that was when they went to Mimi’s for a quick coffee.

Other than that, if they were alone and no eyes were on them, he was friendly but kept his distance. He made it clear the getting to know you again part of their operation was done, they needed to focus and, thank fuck, Raquel read him and went with it, returning the favor.

The problem was, when they weren’t alone, and eyes were on them, he was forced to be far friendlier and there was not even a hint of distance. Rocky was just as friendly back. This was extremely bad because it always felt extremely good.

Now, he was taking her to Swank’s.

Swank’s was Jarrod Astley’s favorite restaurant in Indianapolis, intel Layne had learned from Merry’s e-mailed report of all things he knew about Astley. Apparently, Rocky took Astley there for his birthday every year and Astley took Rocky there to be seen in the exclusive hotspot as often as he liked which, even though you couldn’t get out of there without spending at least a hundred dollars a head, was often.

Layne had made time to swing by the restaurant so he could chat up the hostess. He found out promptly that she knew Dr. Astley. She also knew Dr. Astley had recently made a reservation, she knew the date and she knew the time and Layne convinced her to share that information with him. Then he made a reservation for two, half an hour after Astley was to get there, gave the hostess a fifty and asked her to make certain he was seated close to Astley. After he smiled at her, she promised he would be.

Layne learned from the intel on Astley that getting into his face made it even better he had a time-consuming case because that fifty he’d slipped the waitress was only the beginning. Astley made a lot of money, even more than Layne reckoned he did (and Layne knew this because he ran every search and report he could on the doc) and Astley wasn’t saving for a rainy day. He lived large. Swank’s was named that for a reason. The place was trendy and expensive and, the time Layne visited the hostess, packed. In Indy, it was the place to see and be seen.

Astley also came from money, he wasn’t the elite of the elite but he was from the upper class, albeit the middle upper class. He had a trust fund that he didn’t dip into much since he didn’t have to and he stood to inherit a whack, even sharing it with a brother and sister, when his mother eventually passed away