Jagger (Steele Shadows Investigations)

by Amanda McKinney

  “I’m working on it. I’m working on it, Sunny.”

  I knew that look. I’d seen it many times in my career. The need for justice and revenge, the beginning of a vigilante mission that, more often than not, landed the person in the morgue.

  That would not be Sunny.

  I would not allow it.

  “He was at my house tonight. He is the one who destroyed my home. It makes too much sense with the dogs. He knew Athena and she’s the leader of the pack. The other dogs would follow her reaction to anyone. Hell, he was there when I adopted Athena from the vet two years before it happened.” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “My question is, why? Why come after me again?”

  “Revenge. He blames you for everything.”

  “How do you know this?”

  I told her about the letters Rees written in prison that the warden had told me about. The letters that never got sent. She wasn’t surprised.

  “Why not just kill me, then? Wait for me to get home and put a bullet in my head? Or, hell, burn the house down? Kill the dogs?”

  “Fear. He gets off on it. He got out of jail, wants you to know it. Wants you to know that he knows where you live and is watching you. Wants you to know he’s coming for you. He wants you to fear him.”

  “But how does this play into my attack at the park? We obviously know Kenzo wasn’t my attacker, because that was the pastor’s son. And it’s safe to assume he wasn’t the third person who ran up and saved my life and killed Griggs. Because why would he do that?”

  “Truth?”

  “Truth.”

  “I don’t know, Sunny. But it’s no coincidence Rees was released from jail only a few days before you were attacked in the park. He’s been watching you, following you, knew you were at the park. He’s involved in your attack, there’s no question in my mind.”

  I just had to find the damn connection between the pastor’s son and mother fucker. It was there, I felt in my gut.

  “I know you think this all links with the Lieutenant’s death. Why?”

  “You know that blue, four-door sedan you noticed parked across the street the night of your attack? It was also on camera at Lieutenant Seagrave’s shooting.”

  “At Mystic Maven’s Art Shop.”

  “Right. Whoever stole the Cedonia scrolls is the answer to all this.”

  “The person people call the Black Bandit.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  She flashed me a seriously look. “You can’t step foot anywhere in this town without hearing the name.”

  Fucking gossip. “The question is…” I ran my hand over my chin. “Is Kenzo Rees the Black Bandit.”

  A moment slid by as we watched the water.

  “Do you think the Black Bandit killed Seagrave?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “And when you find him?”

  “He’ll wish he’d never been born.”

  She popped her fist against the dock railing. “I hate him. I want to find him. Now. I want to end all this.” She looked at me, a new kind of fire blazing over those eyes now. “He’s got another thing coming, Jagger.”

  “He does. But not by you.” I set down my beer and turned fully toward her. “You’ve got to promise me you’re not going to try to handle him yourself.”

  She looked away.

  “Sunny.” I jerked her chin toward with me with a bit too much force, but I couldn’t help it. A sudden desperation clawed at me. “Guys like him don’t back down. It’s a pride thing. You push him too hard, he’ll kill you, Sunny. He’ll call it revenge, but it will be to prove to himself that he’s better than you are. I want you to look at me in my eyes, right now, and tell me you’re not going to be a sitting duck for him. Be the strong woman I know you are. Avoid the fight.”

  She stared at me a moment, her face loaded with emotions.

  “Back to my original question, Jagg. Cut the bullshit. I want to know why you’re doing all this for me. Tell me. Tell me why—”

  “You want to cut the bullshit, Sunny? Fine. Fine. Here’s the truth. It’s taking every ounce of my energy not to throw you on the dock right now, rip that stupid T-shirt from your body, destroy those tiny-ass shorts that I’d never let another man see you in again, lick the sweat from your neck and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name. How’s that, Sunny? How’s that for cutting the bullshit? Truth is, you’ve hypnotized me, stolen every one of my goddamn thoughts, my common-fucking-sense since the second I laid eyes on you. Truth? I fucking hate it. Got that? I hate you can do that to me. Why? Because I don’t trust you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  I lifted her chin and crushed my lips against hers. When she opened her mouth, when she accepted me, I devoured her under the moonlight.

  Under her spell.

  31

  Jagg

  Streaks of dawn were just beginning to crest the mountains as I jogged up the station steps, ignoring the knot in my back, getting worse by the minute. I inwardly laughed at myself—not in a funny way, in a you’re-so-damn-pathetic way. During my door kicking days, I considered it a good night to sleep anywhere that didn’t involve scorpions the size of your fist. It’s amazing how quickly you can go soft… in more ways than one.

  Damn Sunny Harper.

  I hadn’t slept a wink since sharing a beer with Sunny.

  Most men wouldn’t after a kiss like that. It had taken every bit of restraint I had not to make a move. Sunny shared the darkest moments of her life with me. She’d opened up, which I knew was no easy feat. And while I knew there were many more layers to strip, it was a start. Something deep in me cared, felt proud. It meant something to me that she trusted me when I knew, in Sunny’s book, men were as valued as her kitchen.

  It had been sexual restraint due to respect. Something, I can say with complete confidence, I’d never experienced before.

  Me, on the other hand?

  Uneasy—that’s the best word I can think to describe the way I was feeling. While Sunny seemed to be making strides against her distrust in men, I was questioning my own sanity. Every decision I was making, every instinct, every damn flutter in my stomach. One month ago, I would have never kissed a woman involved in one of my cases, smoking hot or not. Hell, I never kissed a woman without the end goal being the condom rolling off. But I’d kissed Sunny—twice now—because something in me couldn’t hold back. My thoughts, my actions, just seemed to be cloudy since I’d met the woman, and I couldn’t fight the feeling I was missing something.

  Colson was questioning me, the town was questioning me, and I’ll be damned if I hadn’t started questioning myself. I never did that. Maybe the pain in my body was finally wearing me down, but I felt like I was slipping.

  Something was just different.

  After the tears and that kiss, Sunny and I stayed on the deck for another hour, sipping our drinks, watching the moon rise while listening to the waves crash against the lakeshore. It was a comfortable silence, one that I’d never experienced with another woman. Then, after demanding that I call Ryder and check on her dogs, Sunny made her way back to the bungalow. I’d followed, as was becoming suit and certainly nothing I was proud of. There’d been no argument about who got the bed. Sunny was all cashed out on arguing and emotions.

  I’d given her space to use the bathroom, waiting out on the deck for what seemed like an exceptional amount of time to use a six-by-six space that didn’t have running water. I finally gave up and settled onto the deck and closed my eyes. Two minutes later, Sunny exited the bathroom, indicating that she’d been waiting until I stopped pacing and laid down to come out. Was Sunny modest?

  Through the open windows, I listened to the bed creak and groan as she climbed into it. I waited until I was sure she’d fallen asleep before sneaking back inside where I grabbed another beer, perched myself on the windowsill and watched her sleep.

  This was a first for me. I’d never watched a woman sleep in my life.

  Sometime after
the third or fourth beer, the restraint I’d been practicing all night tripled, with me having to dig my toes into the floor to keep from crawling into bed with her.

  I listened to the sounds of the night, the nocturnal creatures skittering about, the heat bugs screaming, the waves crashing outside. The breeze rustling through the trees. No white noise of the local news running on loop in the background, no cell phone beeping at me, emails dinging, cars racing by, no buzz of an old window air conditioning unit. Nothing.

  I realized how long it had been since I’d heard nothing.

  My mind had drifted to thoughts of what it would be like to take a vacation with Sunny. The beach, a tropical jungle, maybe even a trek through the desert. Anywhere that involved a string bikini. I thought of all the places I wanted to take her, to watch her smile, relax, let that guard down. To take away an ounce of that weight she carried on her shoulders. I wondered what it would be like to date her, be her man.

  And her to be mine.

  Mine.

  As I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest and the moonlight sparkle off her hair, something ignited inside me, so intense, so passionately, that I’d made a decision right then and there.

  I’d take a bullet for Sunny Harper. She’d been through enough. I’d take a damn bullet for her.

  With that unsettling realization, my thoughts shifted to the case, which carried me through the rest of the night spent laying on the floor next to her.

  After the nocturnals had gone quiet and the birds began their early morning rounds, I’d gotten up, brushed my teeth using a bottle of water, changed clothes, and waited until I heard the hum of a truck making its way down the driveway. At exactly five a.m.—because a Steele brother was never late—Phoenix delivered Sunny’s truck with four, gleaming new tires. No news of Rees’s whereabouts—yet. I transferred her old tires to my Jeep, driven Phoenix back to his place, then made my way into town, leaving Sunny asleep in bed, with a note and an extra gun by her side.

  The station was quiet that morning, people still sleeping off the energy they’d used from gossiping about my outburst at Donny’s the night before, and the break-in at the “witch’s” house.

  I beelined it to the break room for a cup of coffee.

  Three cups and one bag of beef jerky later, the sun had risen along with the noise in the station.

  I’d just left another message for Briana Morgan, the elusive art investigator, when a pair of knuckles rapped at my door, followed by Colson stepping inside, phone to his ear. After barking a few orders, he clicked it off and slid it back into his pocket.

  He sank into the seat, combing his fingers through his hair.

  I nodded to the Styrofoam cup on my desk. “Coffee?”

  “Baileys?”

  “Not yet.”

  He grinned. “No thanks. I’ve had a gallon already. Coffee, not Bailey’s.”

  “Of course. Busy morning?”

  “We’ve got every volunteer officer and firefighter on standby tonight. The Moon Magic Festival is officially double what it was last year. Hotels are sold out within a sixty mile radius. The campgrounds,” he laughed a humorless laugh, “we’ve already responded to five calls between the four of them.” He shook his head. “I gotta tell you, something’s in the air, man.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  “Listen…” He said. “About Donny’s last night—”

  “I get it. I shouldn’t have gone off like that. I know. You don’t need to say it.”

  Colson nodded. “Okay, good. That’s your second public outburst in two days, Frank’s, now Donny’s. I’m gonna choose to believe it’s not gonna happen again, ’cause, Jagg, I’m not putting my neck out for you anymore, got it? I’ve got too much to lose right now. A wife, a baby. I need my job. I’ve got too much to lose.”

  “Clear.”

  “Okay.” He waved his hand in the air to dismiss that topic. “So, I came by to tell you two things. One, the switchblade found at the Slaying in the Park belongs to Julian Griggs. His prints are all over it. No one else’s.”

  “He had it pulled then, when he attacked her.”

  Colson nodded. “Seems plausible.”

  “What else?”

  “Jessica just forwarded me the toxicology report on him. Seems like the ol’ pastor’s kid had been dancing with the devil, so to speak.”

  “How so?”

  “Kid was as high as a kite on coke.”

  Cocaine.

  My spine straightened. “You sure? Coke?”

  “Feel free to question Jessica, but I wouldn’t. Woman did me a favor by pushing this through so quickly.”

  My head started to spin. Julian Griggs had been high on coke when he attacked Sunny—and who was once known as the biggest coke dealer in the area? Kenzo Rees. There was my connection. Loose, but it was there. Somewhere along the line, Julian Griggs had crossed over to the dark side, right into the clutches of Rees. I just had to figure out a way to confirm this connection, and more importantly, why Griggs attacked Rees’s ex-girlfriend.

  “What did the Pastor have to say about it?”

  “Shocked. Fell to his knees and began praying.”

  “So he was surprised? There were no signs of drug abuse or violent behavior before this?”

  Colson shook his head. “Not that he was ready to admit, anyway.”

  “You know The Collars are notorious coke dealers.” I opted to leave Kenzo Rees’s name out specifically to avoid another Sunny showdown with the Lieutenant.

  Colson nodded. “Checking into them is on my to-do list today. The gang is notoriously tight lipped, though. Hell, the only reason I know what I know about them is because I arrested a new recruit a few years ago. Kid has just been released from prison, broke into someone’s house without realizing the house belonged to a retired colonel in the army. Kid walked right into the barrel of a shotgun where he pissed himself and obediently waited until the cops showed up. He had a new tattoo on his arm, still red around the edges. The symbol for The Collars.”

  “What did you get out of him?”

  “Not much. Said breaking into the house had been a mistake. Said he got addresses mixed up or some shit. Basically, I was able to put together that new Collar members go through an initiation phase, kinda like a fraternity. Somehow, his B&E was related. But like I said, he didn’t divulge this information. I slapped him with a few charges, destruction of private property, public intox.”

  I felt like I’d just taken a shot of espresso. I was practically buzzing with this new information. Had Sunny’s attack been Julian Griggs’ initiation to The Collars? Rees ordered him to do it? It made sense. It added up. I just had to figure out how to prove it.

  “Anything back from ballistics? Either the casings from Seagrave’s scene or Sunny’s?”

  “Not yet. I’ve got Darby following up. So…” Colson said, moving on from that conversation. “How are you doing? Heard about the break-in at Harper’s.” His gaze sharpened.

  “What did you hear exactly?”

  “That the crime scene unit found jack shit.”

  “Then you heard correctly.”

  “You think it’s connected to her attack?”

  “Among other things, yeah.”

  “Could be a pissed-off church goer. One of Pastor Griggs’ most beloved followers.”

  “I wouldn’t think ‘bitch, whore, slut, and cunt are part of his beloved followers’ vocabulary.”

  “Givers on Sundays, sinners on Mondays. You know how it goes.”

  I nodded, wrapped my hand around the back of my neck. When did my neck start hurting?

  “I drove by her place on my way home last night hoping to catch you guys. See if you needed anything. You and Darby had already left… and Miss Harper wasn’t there either.”

  I met his gaze, my eyes narrowing to slits.

  He continued. “You don’t happen to know where she went off to, do you?”

  We stared at each other for a minute, the tension in t
he room going from casual to heated in under two seconds flat.

  “She went to a friend’s house,” I lied. “I advised her it wasn’t safe to stay in her cabin until we found who vandalized it.”

  “A friend’s house? Bullshit.” He slapped his palm against my desk. “This woman has got you under her fucking spell, Jagger. You’re letting it happen. You’re thinking with your dick instead of your brain, and I gotta tell ya, I’ve never seen you like this before. You’ve lost your focus. You’ve got too many balls in the air. You’re missing the obvious. I don’t like it. I don’t like her. Maybe you should pay a bit more attention to the writing on her cabin walls. Because right now, witch—”

  I surged to my feet. “You say another fucking word, Colson—”

  He surged to his and cut me off. “You know the Chief’s got me hunting down those fucking rednecks you roughed up at Frank’s last night? Wants me to convince them to press charges. To come in and give formal statements about your use of excessive force. What the fuck were you thinking? McCord aims to have your badge pulled by the end of the week. People here are noticing. You’re becoming a joke, do you understand that? A lovestruck puppy. Sunny Harper is going to make you lose the only thing you’ve got in your life. I hope to fuck she’s worth it.”

  My desk phone buzzed.

  Again, three, four…

  I slammed down the button. “What?”

  “There’s a Miss Harper here to see you, Detective.”

  Colson barked a laugh and threw his hands in the air.

  “Tell her I’ll be right out.” I clicked off. “This conversation is over, Colson. Get out of my office.”