Officer Jones

Chapter 50

Gwen reached into her overnight bag and pulled out a camera. As the taxi stopped at a sandy intersection, she snapped photos of the lighthouse. “This place is wonderful, Kyle. What inspired you to move here?”

“My family came here on vacation a few times when my parents were stationed in North Carolina. When I left Arizona, I was at a crossroads-unsure what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Ocracoke had always provided me with peace, so I figured it would be a good place to sort things out. I fell in love so much with the homey atmosphere that I bought a house on the beach and vowed I’d only leave if I could find a place that matched the small town feel. That’s why, when I decided to return to police work, I chose Rockfield over other offers. You should see the small store that’s docked in the harbor. It’s practically the floating version of the Rockfield Village Store.”

“What made you return to police work?”

“I enjoyed my life here, but I had always felt a calling to stopping the bad guys, so to speak.”

His answers sounded like cover stories to Gwen. His preparedness didn’t surprise her, and his intelligence wasn’t to be underestimated.

The cab driver pulled into the small parking lot of The Back Porch and dropped them off. The wait was short, and they were soon seated at a patio table-a light breeze blew, filling Gwen’s senses with the aroma of the ocean. She thought that this really would be a fantastic vacation spot under different circumstances. Jones took control, ordering for her-a fillet of flounder dredged in nuts, and an iced tea.

When the waiter left, Gwen instinctively rolled up her sleeve to scratch her itching arm.

He reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

“What are you doing?” she asked, nervously.

“You shouldn’t itch that-it will only make it worse.”

Gwen stared back, thinking there was no way he could ever have known how she got it. But there was something about the look in his eyes that scared her.

“You’re right, Kyle. But sometimes it itches so much it’s hard not to.”

“Life is all about self discipline, Gwen.”

She nodded subserviently.

“So where did you get poison ivy?” he asked.

The question caught her off guard. “Um … I’m really not sure. I must have gone somewhere I shouldn’t have.” She fixated on the oozing red bubbles spread across her forearm.

“I guess there are always consequences for going where we shouldn’t go.”

Gwen needed to regain control of the conversation. She reached into her bag and pulled out her camera. She focused it on Jones, and took a photo of him as he sipped his drink.

“What are you doing?” he asked with annoyance.

“I think I’m going to do a story on you for the Gazette. Rockfield’s superhero policeman relaxing on vacation!”

His face angered. “I thought you came here to be with me. But obviously you only care about your career.”

“All I want to do is get to know the real you-as would Rockfield. You never talk about your past … your family … your hopes and dreams. I’m your girlfriend, but you treat me like a reporter,” she said loud enough to purposefully make a scene. She hoped the patrons staring in their direction would remember this moment when she went missing.

Jones got his emotions under control. “I’m sorry, Gwen. It just takes me a long time to trust someone.”

“I’m sorry too. I guess the journalist in me gets the best of me sometimes. I know it can be a little overbearing.”

The waiter arrived with their food, interrupting the tense moment. They ate in silence, allowing Gwen to gather her thoughts. Since he’d brought up the topic of trust, she thought she would continue with the theme.

“You know how you said you don’t trust people easily, Kyle?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t either … so I’ve been debating whether I should tell you what I know about a certain subject. Can I trust you, Kyle?”

He perked up. “Of course, Gwen … of course.”

“Okay,” she said, acting as if she were in the midst of an internal debate. “I got a call from a source the other day. The Casey Leeds case from a few years ago … no I shouldn’t tell you … I’m sorry.”

Jones looked to be on the verge of springing out of his seat. “No, please tell me, Gwen. Maybe I can help.”

She feigned hesitance. “Okay, but this is only between us … promise?”

“Of course.”

“My sources have indicated that Leeds was set up by a member of your department.”

His face turned pale as a ghost. He took several sips of iced tea, which seemed to help him recover. “Go on, who did they say was involved?”

“No, I shouldn’t. I’ve already told you too much.”

“Gwen, if there’s a dirty cop on the force I have a right to know about it. I work with these people. My life could be in danger. Leeds took me hostage-I’m involved, whether I want to be or not.”

She paused to let him twist in the wind some more, before adding, “My source claimed it was Betsy O’Rourke.” She flashed a look of buyer’s remorse. “Are you sure this will remain just between us? At least until I have enough to go forward with it.”

“You have my word,” he said, looking relieved. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Gwen’s missing diamond earring. “If I wasn’t trustworthy I’d have already sold this on eBay.”

She looked stunned. “Where did you get that?”

“It must have fallen off in my car on our way to the restaurant the other night.”

Gwen looked at the earring and then at Jones. It was like trying to read a book with no words. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Thank you, I do trust you,” she said, no longer feeling in control.