Stone Cross (Arliss Cutter #2) - Marc Cameron Page 0,92

and full around her shoulders. It looked heavy, like it should make her head tilt. The smile faded. “You okay, boss?”

“I’m fine,” Cutter said, wondering where she was going with this. “You should get some sleep. The judge is an early riser.”

Lola sat down and leaned against the bookshelves, knees to her chest, chin on her knees, obviously planning to stay a while. She was limber enough, but it made Cutter’s back hurt to watch her sit that way.

“You need something?” he asked.

She shook her head, deep in thought. “Not really.”

Cutter worried a little that someone might have seen this cute Polynesian drip down behind the shelves where he’d made his bed. Four marriages had given him a bit of a reputation in the Service. He started to say something about it, but realized any mention of it would only make things weirder. He took off the other boot and set both at the foot of his air mattress, laces arranged so they wouldn’t get in the way if he had to put them on in a hurry, a habit that seemed particularly appropriate under the circumstances. “Good job with Birdie’s daughter, by the way.”

“She’s a great kid,” Lola said. “Nice job with her mother.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“Sure you are,” Lola said. “She could use a nice guy for a friend, even if he doesn’t smile much.”

“I’m not looking for romance,” Cutter said.

Lola batted her eyes, chin still on her chest. “I know you’re not, boss,” she said. “That’s what makes you so hot.”

“Lola.”

“Not to me,” she said. “I mean, not that I don’t think you’re hot, but you’re my boss. That would be . . . I don’t know . . . problematic. I’m saying that women are naturally attracted to guys who don’t try too hard. You don’t try at all, which makes you . . . unobtainium. That stuff’s even more valuable than diamonds.”

Cutter leaned back on his sleeping bag, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Sleep fast, Lola.” He yawned, the day catching up with him. “You can dream about applying for Special Operations Group.”

“I could,” she said. “But I was thinking . . . I wouldn’t mind if you started teaching me how to track.” Her Kiwi accent came on much stronger when she was tired—which she obviously was since she made track sound more like trek.

Cutter moved his arm slightly, peeking out with one eye. He gave her the smallest of nods, like Grumpy would have given him if he was proud about something.

“I could do that,” Cutter said.

“Sweet.” Lola stood and gave him a finger-gun thumbs up. “Night, boss.”

“Night, kiddo.”

* * *

Cutter woke to the snapping flutter of mini-blinds banging against the window—like a rattlesnake on steroids. He wasn’t the jumpy sort, grabbing blindly for a pistol in the dark, but he did check to make certain the gun was where he’d left it. The wind shook the blinds again, bringing him fully awake. The storm from the Bering must have arrived. He rubbed a hand across his face, thought how he needed to shave, and then pushed the button to illuminate his G-Shock: 3:07. With any luck, AST SWAT would have found a weather window and were on their way. Cutter would still be antsy that he couldn’t get out there himself, but at least someone would be looking for the Meads—and Rolf Hagen’s killer.

He went to shut the window, hoping the racket hadn’t woken Lola in the office. His cell was ringing by the time he got back around the stacks. It was Lieutenant Warr.

“Sorry to call you in the middle of the night,” the trooper said.

“I was up,” Cutter said. He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, then stretched, feeling his back pop and snap. He was getting a little old to sleep on a library floor.

“How’s the weather out there?” Warr asked.

Cutter walked back around to the window and peeked out between the mini-blinds. “Hard to tell in the dark, but it’s blowing like hell. Getting colder. Looks like we’ve had a few inches of snow.”

“We can deal with that.” Warr sounded preoccupied, like he was reading and talking at the same time. “Listen, our intel shop ran those names you gave me. James Johnny and Abe Richards are unremarkable so far. But I did get something interesting on Donna Taylor. Turns out, her name isn’t Taylor, not anymore at least. That was her maiden name. She’s got two arrests for assault with a firearm