Page 14 of Shelter for Sharla

“The organization? What’s it called?”

Chelsea quirked an eyebrow up and scowled. “Um, tanner de lupo, I think? I don’t know what that means.” Suddenly, her gaze locked with Carter’s. “Do you?”

“No. Can’t say that I do, but I’m going to see if I can find out. In the meantime, I’d like for both of you to come down and look at some pictures to see if you can identify the guys who were speaking.”

Lionel’s face fell and his eyes misted over. “But my sister’s funeral?”

“No rush. It can wait until afterward. But I can tell you that the longer we wait, the longer it will take to possibly figure out what was going on there and with Tamara. You do want your sister’s death to make sense, don’t you? Or the people who set this whole thing up to pay for their crime?”

“I do.” Carter watched as the boy broke down and his cousin wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “May I be excused? I need to go get ready. CoachBeckett said they’d do a little memorial for Tamara tonight at nine,” he said, his voice soft and halting.

“Sure. We can take this up another time. Go. I’m glad they’re doing that for her, and for you. And thank you for answering my questions. Get back to me when you’re feeling better, okay?”

“Thank you,” Chelsea whispered and smiled. “I know you’re just trying to help, and we appreciate it, really.”

“You’re welcome. Now scoot.” He watched as both kids rose and headed down the hallway, then turned to Sharla. “Good kids. This is such a shame.”

“Think you got anything you can use?” she asked.

“I think it’s important that I figure out this tanner de lupo thing.”

“You really don’t know what that means? Or you don’t want them to?”

“No. I really don’t know what that means, but I’m going to do some asking around. Maybe the guys who went to the university the day after the shooting found something. I dunno. It may be nothing. Or it may be something. But I do know something isn’t right about this whole organization.”

“I agree. Got anywhere you need to be?”

Carter smiled. “Nope. Not right now anyway.”

“Good. Stick around and pretend you’re going to ask me a bunch of questions.” With that, Sharla rose and headed to the kitchen. When she reached the doorway, she spun and smiled. “More coffee, sheriff?”

“Don’t mind if I do!” Carter grabbed his mug and decided he’d go that direction instead of waiting for her. Just like the rest of the house, the kitchen was nondescript, its floor covering worn and plain and its curtains faded. Everything was clean, but there was nothing new in the room, and he was pretty sure the refrigerator was a breath away from taking a shit. There wasn’t a lot of money floating around there, that much was obvious. That was the moment something crossed his mind, something he’d wondered about but forgotten to ask. “Hey, Sharla, about Tamara’s funeral on Sunday…”

“Yeah?” she answered, never turning to look at him as she cut a piece of Danish sitting on the counter.

“Did you have life insurance for?”

“No. I’m not sure how I’m going to pay for it, but I will.”

“The department has a fund. I could talk to them and?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I insist.” Carter reached for his mug, refilled and steaming, and when he grabbed it, their fingers touched for an instant.

He felt like he’d been struck by lightning. The hair on the back of his neck rose and gooseflesh popped up on his arms. His first thought was to wonder how long the kids would be gone to the memorial service, and he chastised himself immediately for thinking that way when the family was in mourning. But he couldn’t help it. When their eyes met, she smiled, and he wondered if she’d felt it too. She’d been coming onto him ever since the evening before, and he had to wonder what she thought was going to happen between them. He had no idea what that would be, but he knew what hewantedit to be.

He wanted to fuck her silly. Right that second. In that moment, it became his number one goal in life, and he was rabid about meeting his goals.

“You okay?” Her soft voice brought him out of his thoughts and he almost choked.

“Yeah. Fine. Good coffee,” he answered and took a sip, hoping his hands weren’t shaking too hard.

“Good company,” she responded with a wink that almost made him come undone. He chided himself for his lack of self-control and, in the same internal breath, congratulated himself for wearing jeans. At least the hardness straining against his fly was a little more disguised than it would’ve been in his uniform slacks.

“Mom?” a voice called out, and Carter almost dropped his coffee. Could the kids figure out what he was thinking? Had he looked at Sharla in a way that would tip them off? God, he hoped not.

“Yes, baby. You guys ready to go?”

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