Jagger (Steele Shadows Investigations)

by Amanda McKinney

  “I’ll see you in the fucking unemployment line, kid.”

  With that final warning, the door slammed closed.

  32

  Jagg

  I pushed out the front doors of the station and into the blazing sun. It was only eleven in the morning and the humidity was already stifling.

  Damn this heat.

  Damn Colson.

  Squinting from the rays of a sun that seemed to be sitting on the treetops, my gaze landed on the show-stopping beauty leaning against the fender of a red and white Chevy Cheyenne. One dog in the back, one in the front. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Sexiest damn thing I’d ever seen.

  A small smile spread as our eyes locked.

  My stomach dipped, and for the first time, I realized why they called that butterflies.

  God, the woman was gorgeous. Tunnel-visioned, I crossed the scorching asphalt, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead, although I was sure it wasn’t because of the heat.

  She was wearing those damn cut-off jean shorts again and a plain V-neck T-shirt that, despite its loose fit, draped over her curves like satin. A worn pair of Birkenstocks, that should have been trashed a year ago, covered her feet. Why did it turn me on that she was wearing them to their last days? She’d pulled her hair back, a river of curls down her spine, and a faded purple baseball cap that read “Life is Good,” on her head.

  The T-shirt shirt rippled in the breeze, just enough to hint at an erect nipple that I knew wasn’t because she was cold.

  Was she thinking about the kiss, too?

  I had to fight from swiping the sweat on my brow as I walked up. I didn’t want her to know the effect she had on me, although, based on the widening grin, she did.

  Max paced back and forth in the bed, tail wagging, a long red tongue panting against the heat. I swear the dog actually smiled when he saw me. Brute was in the passenger seat, a flash of silver irises sparkling in the sun. The pit eyed me as I walked up, but the single flick of his long, thin tail gave him away. I figured that was the closest thing to a smile I was going to get from that one. Again, progress.

  It was a weird moment. Very… relationshipy. My woman, my dogs, coming to see me at work.

  In my dreams, anyway.

  “What a motley crew.”

  With a mind of its own, my hand drifted forward and tucked a wayward strand of curls behind her ear. It took everything I had not to lean down and kiss those lips, sparkling with a gloss, that I knew from last night, was sweet and minty. I noticed she’d put on some makeup and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was for me. I hoped so.

  “Thank you for the new tires. How much do I owe you?”

  “Twenty-thousand dollars.”

  She grinned. “Wow. Five thousand a piece, huh?”

  “Yep. Those rims aren’t silver, they’re platinum. Only the best for you and those stinky mutts.”

  “Well, in that case, put it on my tab, then.”

  “It’s racking up.” I grinned, flicked another strand of her hair. A flirty move. I was a damn high school kid again.

  She cocked her head and met my grin. “All that instant coffee, beef jerky and processed meat from the cooler really ticking up the total, huh?”

  “It’s all organic.”

  She laughed. “You wouldn’t know organic food if it slapped you in the face.”

  “This coming from the Takeout Queen herself.”

  “You’ve really gripped onto that, haven’t you?”

  “I want you to stay put, Sunny. No take out, or curbside whatever. How many times do I have to tell you? Stay out of public until this thing blows over.”

  She stepped forward, closing the inches between us, a flash of desire in those eyes.

  I licked my lips.

  “I want you to be less demanding,” she responded, in a low, sultry whisper. “More asking, less telling.” Her finger ran down my chest, blazing a trail of heat under her fingertip.

  If the front door to the station hadn’t opened, I would have kissed her right there.

  We both cleared our throats and took a step back as Tanya sauntered to her car, eyeing us the entire way.

  “Did you get my note?” I asked.

  “I did and it only took two cups of coffee to decipher the script. You write like a kindergartner.”

  “I was doing long division in kindergarten.”

  “But not learning dangling participles, apparently.”

  “No, what’s that? A type of ambiguous grammatical construct where a misplaced modifier could be misinterpreted as a word other than the one intended? No, I have no idea what a dangling participle is.”

  “Show off. Anyway, yes, I got the note that read, ‘Gun on counter. No home. Ryder expecting you. Ten o’clock, station.’”

  “Never claimed to be a poet. You didn’t go to your house, did you?”

  “Technically, no.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I don’t do technically.”

  “I drove by.”

  “You didn’t stop? Didn’t go in?”

  “No. I promise.”

  “Good girl. Anything new?”

  “No, thank God. Just total destruction with the word ‘witch’ gleaming in the sunlight. At least it hadn’t been burned down.”

  “We’ll get it fixed. One step at a time, beginning with Max.” I ruffled the dog’s ears, fur disbanding into the sunlight. “Is he ready for his big morning of sniffing Julian Griggs’ clothes and hopefully leading us to his killer, otherwise known as this mystery third person from your attack?”

  “He sure is. We’ve already practiced a bit.”

  “Good. How was Ryder when you stopped by?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean? He wasn’t there?”

  “He was there. On a horse in the field.”

  “He didn’t greet you?”

  “No, and that’s fine. I drove to the cages, played with the dogs for a while, leashed-up Max and Brutus and then was on my way.”

  I made a mental note to chide him for not at least saying hi. And when did I become big on manners?

  “Alright, well, get in. We’ll drive around to the back.” I opened the passenger door to her truck.

  “Uhhh, no, you get in.”

  “No ma’am. I’ve been wanting to drive this beauty since I first laid eyes on her.”

  “She might disappoint you, Jagg.” Sunny pinned me with a gaze anything but playful, and oh, so loaded.

  “Doubt it.” I winked. “Get in.”

  Brute eyed me as I settled behind the shiny, wood steering wheel, then took his place between us. I fired up the engine, a smooth, low rumble and promptly popped a boner in my pants. She was definitely no disappointment.

  “Max good?” I glanced in the rearview.

  Sunny rolled her eyes.

  Of course the genius dog was good. I slowly started through the parking lot and rounded the brick building.

  “Why did Brute come along for the ride?”

  “He has a vet appointment after this. Might get some steroids for his shoulder. Seems to be bothering him more lately.”

  I glanced down at the dog, who bowed his head, embarrassed by the conversation. I understood that feeling.

  “So,” Sunny said, glancing over her shoulder at Max. “How do you want to do this?”

  My head cleared, my dick relaxed.

  “We’ll take him to the picnic tables in the back. I’ll bring Griggs’ clothes outside and let him do his sniffing thing.”

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  Easy enough. Ha. I thought of Colson and how many prying eyes would be watching us from the window.

  My next thought surprisingly was… fucking bring it.

  33

  Jagg

  With Sunny and crew waiting patiently outside, I checked Griggs’ clothes out of evidence, logging the time, date, and purpose, and leaving a blood sample and rights to my unborn child—just joking—then, I met Sunny and Max under a shaded, grassy a
rea behind the station. While Max was a bouncing ball of energy, Brute stayed at Sunny’s feet, never leaving her heels. I stepped back and watched Sunny do her thing with Max. The process was interesting. She’d hidden several bags among the trees and shrubbery, each holding various articles of clothing. The bag holding Griggs’ clothes was placed next to a budding sapling. Sunny guided Max to each bag muttering commands, giving him a treat each time they reached Griggs’ bag. After a few rounds of this, Brute tired and meandered over to me where he sat an inch from my boot. I kneeled down, scratched behind his ears, then gently rubbed his shoulder. A massage always helped me. The dog practically melted into my touch as we watched our master work.

  “Whose clothes are in the other bags?” I asked.

  “Mine in one, one of your T-shirt’s in another, a leash from your brother’s kennel in one, and the rest filled with clothes I got from the thrift store on the way in. Lots of different scents.”

  “Good to know the Jagger brothers are covered.”

  “We’ll see,” she winked.

  I watched her work, fascinated. “Explain this to me.”

  “It’s really not that complicated. Just takes a lot of repetition. Once Max sniffs Griggs’ clothes, I take him around to each bag. When we come to Griggs’, I praise him and cue him to bark, then take him to the next bag where I don’t. And on and on we go, until he eventually goes directly to Griggs’ bag after sniffing something with Griggs’ scent. He should be able to pick up every person’s scent on the clothes and will bark when he comes into contact with that person.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Hopefully, the third person from my attack.”

  If that person came within ten feet of Sunny, he or she was as good as exposed—and very likely soon to be missing a pair of balls. It was a long shot, but at that moment, I was willing to try anything to get a break in a case that seemed to get fuzzier with every passing hour. On that note…

  “Hey, what do you think about Max hanging out with me today?” I asked. “While you take Brute to the vet?”

  “No. And it’s Brutus.”

  “Not between me and him.”

  “Oh you guys are BFFs now?” She looked over her shoulder.

  “Only women use the term BFFs.”

  She looked back at Max who was still moving from bag to bag, having a blast with this new, little game.

  “I don’t know… Why do you want to ‘hang out’ with him?”

  Max suddenly barked, leaping and pawing at the bag of clothes holding Griggs’.

  “That’s why. I’ll be making a lot of rounds today, following up on leads regarding your case and Seagrave’s. Who knows what this guy could pick up.”

  “Meaning, you think you might cross paths with the third person?”

  “Never know.” I nodded to the beast. “Max could be my partner for the day. You know, like Turner and Hooch.”

  “You’re old.”

  “Thanks.”

  She looked back and forth between me and her son.

  “I don’t know… He’s a lot to handle, Jagg.”

  “Comes with the name.” I winked, this earning me another eye roll. “Sunny, how’s he going to help at my brother’s house? What’s there? Let the old boy stretch his legs. Learn how to be a real man for a day.”

  “Because the fact that his owner is a woman makes him less of a man?”

  “Yes.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips. “That’s chauvinistic.”

  “No, it’s the truth. Men can do things women can’t, and vice versa. There’s certain things men have that women don’t, and vice versa. For example…” I unbuttoned my pants and started with the zipper—

  She slapped a hand over her eyes. “Okay, okay, geez, point taken.”

  I chuckled, zipped up.

  She uncovered her eyes. “Fine. You can take Max for the day and teach him how to pee standing up.”

  “He’ll be in good hands.”

  “I hope so. Just remember, he’ll listen to you, Jagg. Just be firm. Strong. You know, like a woman.”

  “If you were any other woman than yourself, I’d take that as an insult.”

  “Thanks… I think.”

  Max jogged over, his entire backside shaking with his tail.

  “See? He’s excited. We’ll have fun, do man things.”

  “Like go to the titty bar? Chop some wood, maybe compare ball size after a burping contest?”

  “We’ll throw lunch in there, too.”

  “Well, that’s something I can help with.” She reached into the bed of her truck and lifted a cooler from the bungalow. “Lunch.”

  My brow furrowed with shock and confusion as to what was happening.

  “What?”

  “Lunch.”

  “… Why?”

  “Are you familiar with how lunch works?”

  “Not someone bringing it to me.”

  “Well, brace yourself then, because this one involves a blanket and three courses.”

  My jaw literally slacked as my gaze shifted back and forth from the cooler to the woman holding it. Never, in my life, had anyone brought me lunch.

  “I mean, why?” I asked like a blubbering Neanderthal.

  She swallowed deeply, quickly, as if nerves had suddenly flustered her. “It’s just my way to say thank you. For the tires, for helping take care of my dogs, for finding me a place to stay… Dammit, for taking care of me.”

  The words, so uncomfortable to her, so consuming to me.

  “Okay, then. Lunch sounds good. Where should we sit?”

  She smiled, appreciating the drop of emotions. I liked that she wasn’t all emotional. It was becoming one of my favorite things about her.

  “There’s a really pretty tree just outside of City Park with a small clearing under it. Just about a football field from here.”

  I grinned and bit my tongue at her use of measurement.

  “Grab the blanket and leashes and help Brutus. Please.”

  My grin widened at her obvious effort. She’d put thought into not only the lunch, but her behavior.

  Damn the woman.

  After replacing Griggs’ clothes, we took off across the grass, a picnic basket, blanket, and two dogs in tow.

  Five minutes later, Sunny spread the blanket under the one and only Voodoo Tree. That’s right—the tree that had once been encased in candles and voodoo dolls was now the site of our picnic.

  Irony.

  Or was it?

  The tree looked completely different in the light of day. Almost magical, like a tree you’d see in Lord of the Rings, with long, outstretched branches covered in lush, green leaves. A blue and black butterfly flittered from branch to branch next to us.

  I smoothed out the blanket while Sunny tied the dogs to the tree trunk and gave them water from a portable bowl thing.

  Handy.

  “Sit.” This to me, not the dogs. I did, feeling immediate release in my back as I took the weight off my feet. A breeze swept past, cooler under the thick shade of the tree. Surrounded by woods, we were out of view of the public, and I wondered if that was done on purpose. Was she embarrassed to be seen with me? Or did she know I was being chastised for being seen with her? My gut told me the latter.

  Sunny settled next to me and slapped my hand away as I attempted to help unpack the cooler.

  I took a sip of the tea she’d given me—sweetened to perfection.

  “Bon Appetit.”

  I looked down at the bowl she’d placed in front of me. “Uh… what’s this?”

  “Gino’s Flaming Farro salad. Try it and you’ll know why it’s worth leaving your house for.”

  I glanced at Brute, who snorted. I grinned. She didn’t.

  I took another sip, reminding myself I’d eaten way worse overseas. With an inward thump on the chest, I dug in while she did the same with her matching weird-ass salad. I’ll be a son of bitch if the thing wasn’t delicious. Cool, flavorful, light but filling.

  “Eh?”

>   “Not bad.” I mumbled around another bite.

  Sunny broke her breadstick in half and tossed the pieces to the dogs. No gluten. I did the same.

  “Do you come here a lot?” I asked.

  “The park, yes. Well I used to, anyway. Sometimes after a jog I’d walk through the woods and this tree catches my eye every time.”

  “You’re not the only one.” I told her about the shrine, the candles, the voodoo dolls that had covered its branches earlier that week.

  “Well,” she shrugged as if were no big deal. “Good someone’s putting its beauty to use.”

  “You think using this tree as a Wiccan shrine is putting it to good use?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s vandalism.”

  She laughed—at me. “Oh give me a break. Sounds like someone was peacefully honoring whatever God they choose to.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You’re kind of narrow-minded, you know that?”

  Not lately, I thought. My decisions had been anything but on-track.

  “Well, that stuff doesn’t fly in this town. Especially that it was constructed the day of Lieutenant Seagrave’s funeral.”

  “You think the tree’s somehow connected?”

  I surprised myself at my hesitation. “I’m trying to figure that out. That, and what feels like a million different things.”

  “Well, forget it all for now. Eat. Relax. Enjoy the beauty and shade this marvelous voodoo-tree gives us.”

  A few moments passed while we ate, watching the squirrels, birds, swatting at the flies.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” She said.

  “What were you like in high school?”

  “You mean, why did I date someone like Kenzo?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well,” she sipped her tea. “You know how I told you that Kenzo was popular, athletic, a jock?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I was none of the above.”

  “I refuse to believe that the daughter of a millionaire didn’t have a group of friends.”

  She looked at me, cocked her head. “Do you think money makes people more valuable?”