“Well, this has been fun, but I have things to do.”
“Like what?” It was apparent that Beau was enjoying my discomfort.
“Things.” I wished that it was true so I could have an excuse to hang up the phone.
“I gotta run anyway. I need to head back over to Miss Martha’s and pick up Emory. Or, I can just hang out with him in his room to review the case.”
“Beau.” I put as much warning into that one word as I could muster. My friend laughed and hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
I looked down at my phone in disbelief. That was the closest thing I’d ever had to a heart-to-heart talk with either of my friends. Sure, we asked what was going on in our lives, but none of us ever hinted around to being lonely or wanting relationships. Fuck, maybe we’re just getting old.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I sent a text to Emory’s phone. Thank you, Emory. That was all I said because nothing else was needed. I set my phone on my desk and turned my attention to my laptop. I was reviewing figures when Beau called me to let me know Emory had arrived safely. I knew he wasn’t going to respond to my text and I was surprisingly okay with it. He knew I was grateful and that was what I hoped to accomplish.
A column of figures caught my attention, and I enlarged the screen so I could look at the column a little closer. I double-clicked at the top, and it brought up more detailed information such as charts and graphs of liquor sales and the times they were made. In addition to the sales, it showed when inventory was checked in from our vendors. Either there was a glaring anomaly in the software, or I had discovered where the new thefts were taking place.
I opened the last inventory order and compared it to the uploaded delivery details. There were two cases of liquor missing, and not just any liquor either. The value of the top-shelf liquor exceeded $2,000 in value. Not only did I find the discrepancy, but I also had the employee code of the person who entered the inventory into the system. I clicked on the number and was shocked when the name came up.
“Michelle?” I asked out loud as I stared at my laptop. “I can’t believe it.” Or I just didn’t want it to be true. She was more than my manager; she had been a rock I could count on during the most difficult time in my life.
I heard my cell phone buzz with an incoming message, but I ignored it in favor of focusing on my problem. I swallowed hard, rose from my desk, and headed out to the bar area of the club. Michelle was there laughing with Stella and Antonio as they got everything ready to open. Her smile was so happy and genuine that I wanted to discredit the evidence. Fuck, I’d gone soft since leaving ops. I blew out a frustrated breath loud enough that the trio heard me over their laughter.
Michelle read my mood immediately, and her smiling lips turned into a frown. “What’s wrong, boss?”
“Can you come into my office?”
Michelle dropped the towel in her hand onto the bar and walked toward me. “Sure.” Concern and curiosity were the only two emotions I picked up from her as she followed me into my office. I would have expected to see or feel her fear or guilt if she were the one pilfering booze or money.
“Have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the chair in front of my desk.
“What’s going on?”
“Was there anything missing in the shipment last week?” I asked, getting right to the point.
“No,” she said shaking her head. My heart sank because I knew she was lying to me. “Wait,” Michelle said suddenly. “I got a call from my niece’s school that she was sick and needed to be picked up. My sister was out of town on business and Tiana was staying with me. I had just started logging the inventory into the system when they called me.”
I was a good judge of character and knew damn well she was telling the truth. In fact, now that she mentioned it, I recalled seeing her shorter hours for that day. “The entire inventory was entered with your employee number. Who finished the task for you?” I asked her. Michelle’s eyes widened in alarm as she realized something was wrong.
“Alexander,” she said quietly. “I didn’t log off, and he must’ve continued logging them in under my number.” She swallowed hard before she asked, “Is there liquor missing?”
“More than two thousand dollars’ worth.”
“Oh my God!” Michelle covered her mouth and closed her eyes. “You think Alexander stole the liquor and used my employee number so that I would take the fall?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” I replied.
“He’s off tonight,” Michelle told me.
“That gives us time to formulate a plan and set a trap then, doesn’t it? Will you be able to act like nothing happened until the next shipment arrives in a month?”
“That little fucker! I’m going to kick his puny ass!” Michelle rose from her chair and placed her hands on her hips and blew out a harsh breath. “There, I got it out of my system for now. I’m good to go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive, boss. I won’t let you down. I’m sorry that you doubted me for even a second.” I could hear the hurt in her voice and knew I needed to act fast.
“I’m the kind of man who’s had to rely on gut instinct more than physical evidence for the majority of my life. Even though the computer program was telling me that you misplaced or stole the liquor, in my heart, I believed there had to be another explanation. I’m pretty sure you know which reality I wanted to believe. I’ve always been able to count on you no matter what happened here or in my personal life.”
“That means a lot to me, Jon,” she said softly. It wasn’t often that she addressed me by anything other than sir or boss, but it seemed like the right time to let the formality drop just a bit. “You took a chance when you promoted me to manager over people who’d been here longer, including Alexander.” She shook her head like she still couldn’t believe it. “What will you do about him?”
That question required zero deliberation from me. “Alexander can pay me for the loss of liquor, or I’ll have him arrested.” I lifted a brow in question. “Is that a problem for you?”
“No, sir. Tell me what your plan is.”
“Next month, you’re going to get another emergency phone call and have to leave after you’ve started inputting the inventory into the system. You’re going to stay logged in and ask Alex to fill in for you again. I don’t think he’ll be able to resist the temptation to steal again.”
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll record him in the act on the hidden cameras I’ll have placed in the stockroom.” It was one of the few areas that we didn’t have a camera. That was going to change.
“Do you plan on leaving the cameras in place after you catch Alexander red-handed?” She chewed on her lip nervously.
“Yes, but I’ll make an announcement, so employees quit screwing in there during their breaks.”
“Of course, you knew about that.” Michelle broke eye contact by looking down at her feet. I could tell that something was on her mind, but she was afraid to bring it up. I suspect I knew what made her so uncomfortable.
“Has Alexander been talking?” She raised her head, and I knew I didn’t need to expand on my question. “You don’t have to answer me; the truth is written all over your face.”
“It wasn’t anything he said; it was the way he acted.”
“Fair enough,” I told her. I didn’t owe my manager an explanation or an apology because I didn’t break company rules, just my personal ones. “It won’t happen again,” I said anyway.
Michelle held her hands up in the air. “Not my place to judge. I just wanted to let you know in case he tries to threaten you.”
“His threats won’t faze me one bit.”
“Good to know.” She hooked her thumb to point at the door. “I’m going to get back out there unless you need something else.”
“I’m good if you are,” I told her.
“Then we’re both good. I’ll see you later tonight.”
Once I was alone again, I
blew out a frustrated breath. No matter what I’d just told Michelle, I had a feeling that things were about to get fucking ugly. I hadn’t moved to replace Rick as my attorney since his death because I hadn’t needed one but realized that could change quickly. I hadn’t made any real friends since I moved to the Queen City besides Rick and I couldn’t very well ask him for a fucking referral for a good lawyer.
There was someone I could call, but I didn’t want to hear his voice. Marlon Bandowe was a self-loathing gay man who led my brother around by his short and curlies for more than a decade or longer. He was the kind of guy who spoke out about homosexuality ruining family values right after soliciting a blow job in an airport bathroom. I had no use for bastards like him. I got that not everyone could live openly—hell, that had been my life for the majority of my career in the military and black ops. The difference was that I had never led someone on. I never told a man that I loved him in one breath while denying him in the next.
“Fuck!” I decided to bite the bullet and call him. I picked up my phone and saw that the text I missed earlier was from Emory.
Happy to help your *friend* out.
Just like that, I forgot all about calling Marlon.
I hadn’t planned on responding to Jon’s text message, let alone act playful. Jon? When did I start thinking about him as Jon again? Somehow, I just didn’t have it in me to ignore his text after the way things ended between us at my house. I was finally ready to admit that I’d flown to Montana because of him, and it would be my farewell gesture. I sent my reply text to him in the same spirit. I didn’t want there to be animosity between us any longer. I didn’t want there to be anything between us. Do this thing and make a clean break, Emory. Delete his number from your phone and purge him from your mind. If only it were that easy.
I texted Memphis to let him know that I had arrived safely, had a bite to eat, and was getting ready to meet with the sheriff to review the case. I had promised to call him later that night, figuring that would be enough to tide him over, but I should’ve known better. Memphis fired a reply before I could put my phone away.
Is he hot?
Smoking! I replied because it was true. Why lie about it? He just wasn’t for me. He’s just your type too. Piercing blue eyes, light brown hair with a touch of gray at the temples, and a hard body that came from working rather than a gym membership.
As usual, Memphis always did the opposite of what I expected. I thought he’d reply to my teasing right away, but he didn’t. His reply came five minutes later at the same time there was a confident knock at my door. Funny how a knock could reveal the character of your visitor, or at least their present mood.
Pictures or it didn’t happen, Memphis wrote.
Have to go. Talk later.
“Sheriff,” I said by way of greeting when I opened the door.
“What’s it going to take for you to call me Beau?”
“I just like to keep things very professional with the law enforcement agents I’m working with on a case,” I said in an apologetic tone. “Tell you what, I’ll call you Beau when we find out what happened to Kent Jessup.”
“Deal,” he said, “but I’m going to call you Emory.”
“Fair enough.”
When we got downstairs, I noticed that Caroline was no longer behind the desk. A dour-faced man stood in her place, and I noticed the atmosphere wasn’t nearly as welcoming.
“We don’t run that kind of establishment, Sheriff,” the man said. “Maybe your out-of-town guest would be more comfortable at one of the hotel chains out by the highway.”
Did that grouchy bastard wearing the Mr. Roger’s sweater in a putrid shade of green just imply that I was the sheriff’s whore or something? I wanted to confront him, but Beau’s swift and strong grip on my elbow stopped me from turning around.
“He’s here consulting on a case, not to suck my dick, Virgil,” Beau tossed over his shoulder as we walked out the door. “Old homophobic prick. He better be glad I’ll never be the one answering a nine-one-one call should he ever dial that number.” He mumbled the last part under his breath but loud enough that I heard it.
“I guess hatred exists everywhere, but I’ll never get used to it.”
“Me either, and if he were smart, he’d keep his fucking mouth shut since both the fire chief and sheriff are gay men. Chances are he’s going to need our fucking help someday, and I’m going to try to be a better man when that time comes,” Beau bit out angrily.
The mood in the SUV was somber with neither of us saying anything until we reached the sheriff’s office, which was the typical nondescript brick building with a satellite and antennas on the roof. The inside was as standard and basic as all the other law enforcement agencies I’d visited over the years. Everything was beige and boring, but that stopped once we entered Beau’s office. Oh, it was beige too, but he personalized his space with pictures of him with two other men in various places in the world. I recognized Jon and assumed the other was the Corbin guy that Jon had mentioned.
The photos looked like they dated back twenty years or so. In fact, one of them looked like it was taken during boot camp. I was inexplicably drawn to the pictures and found myself studying each one to catalog the changes in Jon throughout the years. He’d changed from a fresh-faced young man to a world-weary one full of cynicism. I couldn’t begin to imagine the things he’d done and saw to make the bright-eyed boy so jaded. Well, maybe I could imagine it, but I didn’t want to.
“I’m sure you recognize Jon in those pictures. The other guy is Corbin, who I grew up with in New Orleans. We joined the service together and met Jon at boot camp. The three of us became inseparable for the two decades that followed. Corbin is back in NOLA with his family, I’m here in Big Timber, and Jon is in Cincinnati. It’s the longest we’ve been apart since we met.” I heard the pride and love he had for his friends. I suddenly understood why they chatted every Sunday morning. It was their way of staying connected.
“You must miss them.”
“Every day, but our lives took paths that none of us anticipated,” Beau said somewhat cryptically. His words and actions convinced me that Kent Jessup’s disappearance was more personal than he let on. He hadn’t told Jon, so I knew that he wouldn’t confide in me. It was also possible that Jon just didn’t tell me the full story. “There’s never been anything between us except amazing friendship, Emory.”
I pinned him with a heated look. “Why would you say that to me?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. “That must’ve been some phone call the two of you had this afternoon.”
Beau put his hands up peacefully. “I simply called Jon to thank him. I might’ve mentioned that you were cute because I thought that maybe you and he—”
“No.”
“Yes, he made that clear.” Hearing that Jon denied the connection we shared pissed me off. It was hypocritical and irrational, but true all the same. “Jon also mentioned that you thought he and I might’ve been friends instead of friends.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what he’s talking about,” I said while wishing the ground would open and swallow me. “He’s of no concern to me.”
“Yeah, he tried that same song and dance with me too. Neither one of you is very convincing though.” Beau smiled wryly then said, “I talked to Jon on the phone instead of using Skype so I can’t be sure of his facial expression when he denied he has feelings for you, but I imagine it would look just like that.” He pointed to my face. “You two idiots are fighting the wrong battle. Stop being stupid, because life is too damn short.” As if I hadn’t learned that the hard way.
“Thanks for the pep talk, Dr. Phil. Can we get down to business now?”
Beau threw his head back and laughed hard for several minutes. “Oh boy,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Jon said pretty much the same thing, but I think he was slightly more colorful.”
“Well, I’m starting to think saltier language is called for in this situation,” I said wryly.
“
Have a seat, and I’ll get the file for you to look through.” Beau went to a storage locker in the corner of his office and began turning the lock. “I wouldn’t really say there has been a new development, but what I did discover reaffirms my belief that Kent Jessup never left this county alive.” The lock audibly clicked when it unlocked, and the door swung open. Beau pulled out a worn, leather duffel bag from the locker. “This bag belonged to Kent. There’s no way in hell he would’ve left it behind.”
The look of devastation on his face and the anguish in his voice confirmed my suspicion that this was no ordinary cold case to Beau Rossi. He had a vested interest, but why? Then I realized it didn’t matter. What mattered was whether I could touch Kent’s things and get a psychic connection to him. I walked to the table Beau had set it on and reached for the bag. An image didn’t immediately come to mind, but a feeling of sorrow and fear washed over me.
I blew out a shaky breath and unzipped the bag so I could touch his possessions. “Have you gone through this bag?” I asked.
“I have,” Beau confirmed.
“Are you confident that all the items are his?”
“A ranch hand from Kent’s last known residence gave the bag to me recently, claiming it was Kent’s. His mother also described the bag he’d left home with in great detail, so I’m confident it belonged to him. I can’t say for sure whether all the items inside are his though.”
“Fair enough,” I said. I pulled each item out separately to see if I could pick up any vibes from them. Mostly the bag consisted of clothes and a grooming kit. Odd that he would’ve left them behind, but not necessarily an indicator that foul play was afoot. None of the items gave me anything to work with. The second to last item I removed from the bag was a half-empty box of condoms. I got my strongest psychic hit from them, but that didn’t surprise me at all. Lust and love are two of the strongest emotions that people experience. It wouldn’t be odd to feel the connection if that bag had been hidden and preserved well the last ten years. The residual vibes of lust and the joy of discovery were still strong when I ran my hand over the box.
Welcome to Blissville Page 129
