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“Yeah, sure.” Barrett spared Oz a glance before going over to the bank of windows on their left. There wasn’t much room on the little landing, so he made do with squashing himself against the railing and leaning in, against the cold glass. From the radio desk and map table to the bed and lockers, everything appeared to be in its rightful place. But there was a creeping sensation worming its way down the back of his neck and he shivered. “Don’t see anything on the immediate. But there’s a ton of supplies and such in there, so if they stole something, we’d need to go in and physically take inventory.”
“Fair enough. Man, they really fucked up this door.” A shutter clicked and Barrett saw the flash of a camera from the corner of his eye. “Stole the generator, too, so they probably had help.”
“Maybe. But the generator’s on wheels, so anyone with a ramp and a decent truck could haul it away.” Barrett turned away from the windows and looked down. “No shoe prints or tracks?”
“Snowed over by the time Meredith was up here.”
“Fuck.”
“Agreed.” And as suddenly as it came on before, Oz’s grin was back, wide and toothy and friendly. “But we might get lucky. Jacques speaks very highly of you and you strike me as an observant man.”
Barrett wanted to scoff but the compliment hit him right where Oz likely intended. Smart, this one, and good with people. He’d never worked with an investigator when he’d been a paramedic; too low on the hierarchy and too busy saving people’s lives and, on occasion, dragging cats from trees.
(Okay, multiple occasions for Mrs. Scoffer, whose cat Trixie always got stuck in the same ancient oak on her property.)
He turned to Oz, whose expectant gaze went delightfully dark once Barrett’s attention was on him. Somethingcrackledin the air between them. Instant and heady. Ambrose wasn’t dashed from his thoughts, but it had been a long damn time since he’d felt such instantaneous energy.
Barrett was quickly feeling a strange, swirling eddy building in his gut like fire. It wasnotappropriate to be feeling so pent-up at the scene of a crime. And he was well aware it was a very bad idea to fuck this man or even consider it, but he waswantingand it burned in his veins.
And that’sifhe was reading Oz’s body language and tone right. “Ask me whatever you want,” he said, daring to lean in a little. “But it’s fucking cold out here. And it’s late.”
“It is.” Oz’s plush mouth quirked up. “Bit of a drive out of here.”
“It is,” he agreed, echoing. Some thread of sanity pulled him back into the present. “What are you wanting to know?”
“Gather your notes, any reports or field observations from any time you’ve been in the tower.” Oz’s voice had dropped a little andfuck, he had not been reading that wrong. Oz was staring at him hard. Barrett almost changed his mind before Oz said, “Meet for coffee in the morning?”
It was now or never. “Swing by my place. It’s closer than the station, easier to navigate in the snow.” He leaned in again, daring. Hoping. Fuck, how long had it been since he’d felt someone else’s warmth, their hands? Their lips on his? Too long. Too fucking long and now that it was being dangled in front of him, he ached with it.
But the morning. If it didn’t bring a clearer head, then maybe. Maybe.
“That sounds good.” For one brief moment, Barrett swore he saw Oz’s right hand clench against his thigh. “I should have all the reports from Jacques soon. We can compare notes. I’d also like to hear the bridge story from you personally, since you were heavily involved.”
Barrett saw an opportunity to tease, to flirt. So he took it. “Meredith was there, too. Right there with me.”
“Ah, but she didn’t save a hiker from an icy plunge into the river. And then you and the hiker holed up in the firewatch tower for the night.”
Barrett scoffed. “That was months ago.”
Oz licked his lips. “It was. But I never leave a stone unturned.”
And why did that sound like somethingmore, coming from this man he’d just met? “Fair enough. But you have to bring pastries if you want them, I’m a shit baker.”
Oz’s laugh snapped like ice-covered branches in dying winter’s chill. “That is entirely fair. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I’m more of a savory person.”
All of Barrett’s replies died on his tongue as Oz waved him back down the stairs. “Be safe on the way out,” Barrett said once they’d reached their vehicles. “That last turn on Pike Trail is nasty.”
“Very considerate of you.” Oz hopped into his truck. “See you tomorrow. Nine okay?”
“More than.”
He waited until the truck lights disappeared around the bend before getting into his own vehicle and peeling out, head too full to do anything but wonder what the fuck he’d gotten himself into.
Chapter twelve
Concernwroteitselfonthe faint lines on Ambrose’s face when he answered Barrett’s knock. “Sorry, I know it’s early. Or late,” Barrett said, his head ducked against the wind. “I didn’t want you to have to watch her any longer.”
Dandi was suddenly right there, her massive head nudging Ambrose’s thigh as she peered up at Barrett. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve not been to bed yet.” He scratched at her soft ears and said, “Except, you could have warned me she snored.”
