Jess was intensely uncomfortable.
The crowd was serious, people in small groups talking, hugging, sniffling. Everyone had candles in plastic cups fluttering in their hands, others held flowers, laying them at the edge of the fenced off area in front of the factory. Jess wasn't sure what to expect, and the sadness in the air was making her jumpy. People wanted to console her, and she didn't want to be touched by strangers.
Thank God for Shaun, who was lock-step with her, his shoulder radio turned up and beeping out the odd chatter in his full uniform, even his flak vest emblazoned with "POLICE" across the front. Once folks saw him, they left her alone, and nodded or offered a quick "So sorry". He was tall, and when she'd seen him come out of the bathroom in his uniform, he had been quite intimidating in the small space of the front hallway.
Well, intimidating and, despite the distraction of where they were going, sexy as Hell.
News had, of course, made its way through the media. The dots had been connected by most of the journalists, even though they hadn't really released details on how Jess was estranged from her fucked-up family. That hadn't passed her notice. People pointed at her and Shaun when they arrived, gathering several news parasites, who pointed their big cameras in their direction.
This would be horrifying for her aunt, and her uncle would get really, really mad. Private people, to the nth degree.
Fucking vultures echoed in her head as they made their way towards the buildings. She had spat just that when they had ridden in Shaun's truck through the throng of people at the gate, sinking in her seat as flashbulbs went off in her face, right outside her window.
"We'll be through it soon," he'd advised, his cop demeanor out in full, being in a uniform automatically giving him that calm, stony vibe she'd gotten from him when she met him. "Just sit tight, don't look out the window."
After they had escaped the scrum, he'd put a hand on her thigh as they drove, and she had covered it with hers. It was comfortable, touching him, as natural as breathing. His jaw had flexed a few times when she had stroked his fingers, and he'd ground out a "don't" and squirmed. So she stopped, twining their fingers instead, looking out the window, both of them thinking about where they were going.
Shaun scanned the crowd, and Jess looked up from her feet and her distracted mess of thoughts. They were now close to the front of the crowd gathering. Off to her left, she saw Heather, Tracey, and Michelle, and braced while they all folded in around her. She caught them up on what had been going on at the farm, reassuring everyone she was okay, enduring several bone crushing hugs and 'ohmygods' from Tracey.
Shaun was right, even if right now she was so uncomfortable she wanted to scream and run. She did need to talk to someone, and to let others comfort her. It wasn't easy for her to let people in.
These girls were friends, not close ones, but she really didn't have many of those. She chatted with them for a few minutes, introducing them to Shaun, who nodded curtly and said his "ma'ams" like any good officer. Michelle's eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree the moment she'd seen him, and Jess whispered in her ear "Down girl. He's taken."
She had no idea why she'd done that, but the pout from Michelle had been worth it. She didn't elaborate on who, of course, because he wasn't, really. It had felt good, even so.
The flickering light of hundreds of candles hurt her eyes as more people gathered, some sort of formal ceremony was starting soon, it seemed. She refused a candle when Michelle handed her one, and stuffed her hands into her pockets, scanning the mess of flowers, teddy bears, pictures of the victims fluttering in the somewhat stiff evening breeze. It was surreal, all the outpouring of grief into things laid on the ground, punctuated by sniffling, coughing, muted conversation. She couldn't find a picture of her father, but she didn't recognize him in pictures right away so any of the men in the photos could have been him. The loss of life and the sheer stupidity of it hurt her chest, and she fisted her hands in her pockets, biting her cheek to keep her emotion in check.
Shaun was still scanning the crowd, his eyes hard and glittering in the candlelight. He was wearing a PD ball cap instead of the normal Stetson, and it leant him a tough, lean profile. He gave off an aura of power, his features chiseled and dark. All she wanted right then was to touch him, grab some of that strength, but she held back.
Two days ago, she would not have thought to need anyone to steel herself in this situation, but this wasn't like anything she'd ever experienced before. Now here she was with him, and some friends, on his advice. If it helped her understand what had happened, it was the right thing for her to do.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped in reflex, turning in place. Ryan crowded in, fidgeting with the sleeves of his coat. He looked terrible. He was wrinkled, and his eyes were darting everywhere. He definitely hadn't showered. She stepped back in reflex, wondering why on earth he was there. Then she remembered. He was an overly emotional guy, and he worked here. Shit.
"Ryan?" she squeaked, taking him in. "You look like Hell."
Heather moved aside, taking the other two girls with her, overtly pointing at him and gesturing. "Just talk to him, Jess. He's been a wreck. We all want you guys to work this out. He needs you, honey."
"Seriously, Heather?" she growled, and then craned her neck, watching as the girls moved away in the crowd, leaving her with Ryan. Some friends. It was no secret she had ended it and he had not taken it well. It was over though, and that was not changing, massive tragedy or not. Tracey pulled her fingers into a heart shape and smiled. Jesus.
What in God's name were they thinking?
Shaun was suddenly behind her, something on his belt touching the small of her back, his warmth welcome. It took all she had not to lean into it.
"You okay?" he murmured into her ear, daring a hand on her side, not noticeable in the crowd squeezing in. So he had been paying attention to her, not just the crowd. It sent a thrill through her. She almost wished they could be away from there, anywhere else.
"Fine. Fine. This is Ryan, my—" she stopped. She hadn't told Shaun about Ryan yet. "We used to date."
Shaun nodded at Ryan, looking him over. "You okay, sir?"
"Yeah, fine. Listen I need to talk to Jessie. I gotta talk to her. Can we go somewhere?"
"Can it wait? We're in the middle of a vigil service!" Jess hissed at him. "I get you're upset, Ryan. I'm sorry, but I need to be here."
Ryan eyed Shaun, and Jess felt Shaun bristling behind her. "What she said, sir. Let's get through this and you can talk after."
Ryan ran a shaky hand through his hair, looking everywhere, restless. Jess wanted him to just go away. It was invading what little calm she had gathered to get through this, and she did not need the drama of him right now. She'd broken up with him because he was constantly needy, always demanding her time, no matter what else she was doing. It was exhausting. She needed a partner that could take care of themselves, not need constant validation and attention.
"Come on, Jessie. I have been so worried about you. I figured you'd be worried about me too. I called in sick two days ago, but you wouldn't have known that. I figured—"
"Ryan! Please, not now. I'm glad you're okay, but seriously!" she hissed at him.
Ryan grabbed at her arm, shaking it, and Shaun reacted. He pushed Ryan off of her, opening the crowd up, his hand braced out on Ryan's chest, dropping when Ryan backed away. "Sir. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You are being disruptive and I do not want to have to detain you. People here deserve some quiet respect."
Ryan stopped, eyes darting between Shaun and Jess, blinking and then following Shaun's hand as he wound it around her shoulders, very protectively, pulling her away from Ryan. Jess put a hand on his chest to steady herself, and rolled her eyes, realizing that Shaun was staking his claim. She jabbed him in his side with her other elbow. He let go, but not before flicking his eyes at her, apologizing. She wasn't sure he was entirely sorry. Most people wouldn't have caught that subtlety, thinking he was just pulling her away from someone, protecting her.
Ryan's eyes widened slightly, and he threw his hands up, pointing a finger at her. Here came the blow-up. His temper matched hers, but he had even less control than she did. It meant their relationship had been a non-stop whirlwind of fight and make up.
Thank God it was over.
"Fuck you Jess. You know, why did I even care," and he spun and threaded through the crowd. Murmurs and gawkers watched them both, and Jess buried her face in her hands.
"Maybe this was a mistake," she muttered, every nerve twitching.
"You're fine. Listen, let's focus on why we are here," Shaun said quietly, purposely making eye contact with several people around them to make a point. "Everyone's emotional right now. It's okay."
People patted her on the arm and murmured condolences, and everyone went back to what they were doing before Ryan had disrupted them. Shaun grabbed her shoulders, turned her and peered into her face.
"He is such a needy idiot," she groaned.
"I can see that. How in Hell did you put up with that for even a moment? You okay?"
"Yes. Fine. He's a fun person, when he's not being a basket case. We had some good times. The crazy just outweighed it," she replied tiredly.
He laughed quietly, the rumble in his chest enticing, and she let out a breath of tension. He went from concerned to serious then, looking up and around them, scanning the crowd. It pushed the semblance of calm she needed to deal with what was happening at the front of the building.
The microphone in front of the crowd squealed feedback, and Shaun turned towards the sound. He came up behind her, put his hand around her and onto her stomach, and they began to listen to the stories and tributes to the fallen. This time, she did lean into him. She needed the anchor.
-----
Shaun had almost decked the guy when he'd touched her. It shook him, and it took all he had to clamp down on his emotion and put his training to use. Even with them touching in the crowd, her heat searing him through his uniform, he was struggling.
He'd half-listened to the people speaking, talking about loved ones. He wanted to respect them, but he also needed to tune it out. He was scanning the crowd, looking, keeping his breathing normal. He'd lowered the volume on the radio, but it had gone quiet when the speakers started.
He did lower his head when they said a prayer. He felt Jess shift, and do the same, and when it was over he pulled her closer, steadying her, his hand splayed over her stomach. She put a hand over his and squeezed. The only indication she was not okay was the slight tremor when she did.
"You cold?" he asked, ducking to murmur in her ear, fully aware how good her hair smelled, the way her stomach flexed under his hand, the way she fit into his hips perfectly. He was driving himself mad.
"I want to go," she whispered, and he shepherded her through the crowd once more, ignoring the girls who had thrown her under the bus when they called out for her and tried to follow. Once at the edge of the crowd, he turned back, and gave the tall blonde one, Michelle, his best-intimidating officer glare.
"Don't. You've done enough for one night. She'll call you when she's good and ready."
It stopped Michelle up short, and she pursed her lips, chastened. "We just wanted to help," She said, then flounced back into the crowd.
"Help. That is what that was?" Jess snorted, and rubbed her arms. "Oof. That was enough heavy for one night. Do you have to stay?"
Shaun turned his radio back up, and waved as Mack walked over. Mack nodded at Jess, and he saw Jess' posture change. She didn't like him, that was for certain. What had he said to her in their interview?
"Just finished up with the Cramptons, Lewis stayed out to type up the notes. Hoo boy. Lady, that is some history your family has."
Shaun instinctively put an arm out and kept Jess from rounding on Mack, because she was about to do just that. She stopped short, hissing a breath out.
"I asked you to wait until I was there, Mack," He growled. "Hell, Gertie likely just about had a heart attack. They're decent, kind folks. You'd better hope you didn't upset them."
"Feeling protective, King?" Mack drawled, then flicked a glance at Jess, who was seething behind his arm, her eyes shooting daggers.
"Not cool," she barked. "You fly that bullshit theory past them? That they're criminals? If you so much as made my aunt cry I'll—"
Shaun gave his co-worker a wide-eyed look, and Mack caught it, shaking his head. "No, no. We didn't go all good cop/bad cop on 'em. Jesus. That old boy, he's a tough nut, but I believe you Miss Nichols. He couldn't hurt a fly."
"Wait, you thought they helped Mary escape with the horse?" Shaun said slowly. "I wouldn't have thought that at all. Those two were in the house with us that first night. No phone calls, nobody left early."
"That's why you're still working the uniforms, and I get the big bucks, King," Mack drawled again. "Anyways, we're rendezvousing out to the search command post. Jenkins wanted to know if you needed relieving. Says here you're pretty stuck to Miss Nichols here and might want it?"
Jess gave Mack one more glare, and flicked her phone open, turning away from them. Shaun stepped closer to Mack, lowering his voice. "Not cool, man. She's already had enough shit. Can the smarm,okay?"
Mack chuckled and flicked a hand over at her. "She's tough, that one. Turcotte says you were with her this afternoon in the barn, getting kind of close to one another. Don't blame you, King, but be careful. In too deep and you could get yourself into trouble."
Shaun closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn. The officer had seen them. But, given he'd just been full-on molded to her in the crowd, it wasn't going to be conjecture for long. He had to touch her, reassure her. It wasn't an option with her anymore. He'd come clean to Vern after all this was over.
Even so, he ran damage control.
"She's been through a lot. Getting to know her a bit. She had a tough moment and I comforted her. Part of the job," he stated, leveling out his voice, trying his best to seem distant. "Careful? Mack, you know that I am."
Jess spun and stepped to them, her face frustrated, her eyes dancing anger before Mack could retort. His instincts went up because she looked pissed off.
"Dammit."
"What's up?" Shaun said, and Mack looked over. Jess showed them both her phone. It was a text from Ryan, or a litany of texts, all jumbled with I still love you's and how guilty he felt at not being there. The last one made Shaun's blood run cold.
"I need to talk to you about your father. I know why she killed him."
Mack took the phone and looked between them. "This kid for real?"
Jess shook her head. "Not sure if he's just playing it up to get me to talk to him. He already tried when we were in the crowd. He's a needy manchild. But—" she stopped, and gestured at Mack. "We should follow it, yeah?"
Mack nodded and handed the phone back. "Text him. Ask where and when. We'll go."
Shaun started scanning the crowd, his senses on alert as Jess typed into her phone. Almost immediately, it vibrated and Shaun jumped over to look.
"He says he's still here, but to come alone."
"Fat chance," Shaun snapped, and put his hand on his gun, looking out and around the cars and people. Mack was swiveling too.
"See him?"
"No," he barked, and went to his radio.
"I need a ten-twenty on a Ryan—" he said into the radio then stopped. "What is his last name?"
"Hastings," Jess bit off, her own eyes swiveling around, not looking at him.
He tilted his head back towards his shoulder radio. "Hastings. Approximately six foot, collar-length brown hair, plaid shirt under a brown Carharrt jacket. May be visibly upset."
A "ten-four" crackled, and Shaun watched as the planted officers slowly moved out to fan the search area. He kept his neck on a swivel, and moved closer to Jess instinctively.
Jess' phone vibrated again. Mack looked over, then at Shaun, shaking his head. "I don't like it."
"South side loading dock," she read. "I'll go, just stay close,okay?"
"No way. What if he tries to do something stupid, Jess? You—"
Jess shook her head and then, boldly, patted his chest. "I'll be fine. You will be there, in the shadows. I expect Mack will be too. If I know Ryan at all, he'll be freaking out enough to yell and you can hear what he has to say."
Shaun did not like it one bit. All his nerves were screaming, and he clenched his jaw, flaring his nose as he breathed in and out. A civilian should not be involved like this. Especially her.
" One condition," Shaun ground out, and made her look into his eyes, capturing her chin in his fingers. "The first sign he is going to hurt you, you run like hell, screaming,okay? If you can't, you yell some insulting word his way as loudly as possible, so that he thinks you're just reacting, but we'll know you need us to come in. Got it?"
"Good idea, King," Mack added, hisface stern. "You don't have to do this, Miss Nichols, we can find another way."
"I'm good. I can handle myself with Ryan," she replied.
" We will be behind you, hot," Mack said, then grimaced. "I mean, with our—"
"Guns ready, I get it," she said. "Not a complete dolt, detective."
Shaun tried, and failed to muffle a chuckle, but recovered enough to touch her arm, looking into her eyes, silently pleading for her to be careful.
"I will," she reassured, and he blinked. She seemed to be able to read him, and it comforted him.
Mack pointed the way back towards the loading docks, and Shaun wanted to grab her, swing her over his shoulder and head the opposite direction when she started walking towards the dark side of the factory. He put out a quick ten-twelve for Ryan, asked for radio silence, and then turned the volume down again.
Mack gave the silent go, and they followed at a safe distance. Once through the crowd, both of them drew their guns. Shaun trained his ears to the crunch of gravel of her boots, the cadence of her walk. He memorized the pine trees on their left, the tiny flood light on the corner of the building casting an oblong halo out onto the ground near the overturned picnic table and the flapping crime scene tape. There was little cover.
Mack put his hand out, and they stopped as Jess rounded the corner, then they moved forward again, silently. Mack right to the corner, pressed along the wall, Shaun back a bit, on the side of the factory lawn in the dark, crouched and watching her pass through another light towards the beaten up loading dock ramp. He heard other officers shifting into position as quietly as possible. Someone near him popped the snap on their holster. He flicked a glance at Mack, who caught his eyes and nodded. They were ready.
Ryan was sitting on the loading dock, stubbing out a cigarette, and he jumped down when she got close. She stopped, and put her hand out. He couldn't hear what she said, but it held Ryan where he was, a good ten steps from her.
He swore under his breath and adjusted the grip on his gun. He had range, and he had a clear shot. He hoped Mack could hear better than him, because his heart was beating harder than it ever had, drowning out everything else.