Hot Pursuit

by Jennifer Bernard

  Caro lifted her hand for a high-five. Their palms met with a satisfying smack, and Merry felt her personal power flooding back.

  4

  Why isn't everyone as cool as you are? said the next message from AnonyMs. What's wrong with men?

  Will frowned over the keyboard. Interesting. This was getting more personal than usual.

  I don't believe in generalizations. I need specifics.

  Okay then, she answered. A specific male relative just popped into my life completely uninvited.

  Tell him to leave.

  Just like that? Wow, is that how you roll with the ladies in your life?

  He'd chosen the name StarLord as a joke, because he'd just seen Guardians of the Galaxy with Aiden and he hadn't ever intended on actually continuing this Flirt thing. But then he'd "met" AnonyMs and somehow they just kept writing. I keep my relationships breakup-proof. Clean and simple, no drama. If a woman wants to leave, I don't argue. If I want out, I just go.

  That's cold.

  That's real. I've had a kid to raise for the past eleven years. He didn't need a fake mother-figure around. So I kept my sex life separate.

  Mentioning "sex" was another first. But she'd brought up the topic of relationships. That opened up a big old can of worms.

  Only a man could think that makes any kind of sense, she sent back. But I like it. I keep my sex life separate too—separate from other people. Big smiley face. I can satisfy my own self without all the drama, know what I mean?

  Oooh, now this was getting good.

  Will rubbed his hands together and glanced around the living room. His computer was set up in the corner. Right now, the room was empty, but either one of his brothers could walk in at any moment. They were both staying with him until they found their own places, and neither seemed in any hurry to do so.

  Not that he wanted them to. It was great to have more Knight brothers in the house.

  After he was granted guardianship of Aiden, he'd sold the old property and bought a big rundown farmhouse closer to Jupiter Point. Neither of them wanted to live in the house where the murder had happened. Will thought fixing up the farmhouse would be a good hands-on project they could both focus on. The work wasn't even close to being done, but he and Aiden had learned a shit-ton about construction.

  He stretched out his legs under the vintage writing desk that had come with the house. He'd just gotten back from a night run and still wore his workout clothes. He really ought to jump in the shower, but this convo with AnonyMs was too juicy to cut short.

  I'm not sure I understand, he typed with a smirk. Maybe you can go into more detail.

  Can't you use your imagination? the reply pinged a second later.

  All too well. It's a good thing you can't see into my head right now.

  Are you sure I can't? What's that I spy in there…looks like naked people! Then again, that could be the inside of any man's head.

  He laughed out loud just as Ben walked into the room. He typed a quick "x"—the symbol they'd agreed on as meaning someone in real life was interrupting them. Then he closed out the app and rose to his feet.

  Ben had a free weight in each hand. He was alternating arms, working his biceps as he strolled around the house. Shirtless.

  "What the fuck? You're going to drip sweat everywhere," Will grumbled.

  "Okay, Grandpa." Ben grinned at him. After spending five years as an Air Force pilot, he was used to teasing. "Who were you chatting with?"

  "No one."

  Chatting, to him, didn't quite describe it. That sounded like "chitchat," like boring conversation that didn't mean anything. His communications with AnonyMs were so much more than that.

  Ben shrugged and dropped his weights onto the couch.

  "Do you mind? We have a whole gym for that. It's outside. In the barn."

  "It was lonely out there. I need someone to talk to while I work out. Want to come throw some iron around?"

  "I was just headed for the shower."

  Ben threaded a hand through his sweat-stiffened hair. It was finally growing out after years of the typical precision brush-cut. Of all the brothers, he looked the most like their mother. Sometimes the sight of his honey-blond hair and deep gray eyes made Will's heart hurt. Mom was out there somewhere. Grieving, running, hiding, who knew what. Occasionally Cassie sent a postcard letting him know she and Mom were both okay. He'd always sent copies to his brothers when they were overseas.

  It wasn't enough, and yet it had to be.

  "Better hurry, Grandpa." Ben teased. "You're getting sweat everywhere."

  "Yeah, yeah." Will shut down the computer and slid his chair back. "How did the interviews go?"

  "Pain in the ass. Why do people apply for a job they have no qualifications for? One of the applicants barely just got her pilot's license. I had to break it to her that she needed at least two years' flying experience." He cracked a grin. "I did offer her some copilot action. We're having dinner next week."

  "Copilot action? Is that what they call it these days?"

  "Hey, don't knock it. You could use some yourself. You act like an old man, Will. I've been keeping an eye on you and I'm not liking what I see. I'm worried. So is Tobias."

  Will grabbed a gym towel from the back of his chair and wiped his face. "The hell you are. I'm fine. Jesus. Having the time of my life."

  "That's the thing. You should be, but you're not. How about a beer? Barstow's, what do you say?"

  Normally he'd jump at the chance to hang out with his brothers at everyone's favorite brew pub. But he'd much rather get Ben out of his hair so he could quiz AnonyMs some more. Her last provocative comment had all kinds of images flying around in his brain.

  "Another time. I have to work tomorrow. Big investigation going on. Big by Jupiter Point standards, anyway." He brushed past his brother, but Ben jumped up and followed him toward the stairs that led to the bathroom, pumping his free weights as they went.

  "You know, this strong and silent act only goes so far. I went away and worked out my emotions defending our country. You had to stay here and be Mr. Mom. Ever think you might have a few problems built up? Some shit you stuffed down and never thought about?"

  Will wheeled around to face his brother. "I think about everything. Often. I haven't forgotten and I never will. But we don't have to dwell on it either."

  Ben backed away, raising his hands—which were still full of iron—in a defensive position. "Okay, okay. It was just a thought. Jesus."

  The front door swung open and Tobias walked through. Even though he had the most intimidating appearance of the three of them, he was perceptive as hell. He stopped in the hallway and glared at them. "What happened?"

  "I told Will he needed a woman and he ripped my face off." Ben worked his jaw back and forth. "Surprised I still have feeling in my jaw after that right jab he gave me."

  Will rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot. What happened is that Ben doesn't know when to quit. And I have a woman. Roxy. She's a peach."

  Both of his brothers gave him the "cut the crap" look.

  Roxy was their former neighbor, and she and Will had been sleeping together off and on since high school. It was the ultimate relationship of convenience, and neither one had ever pretended otherwise.

  Tobias turned to Ben. "Don't worry about the woman situation. It's covered. And I don't mean Roxy."

  Will frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

  "Our free publicity."

  Ben did a few more biceps crunches, looking thoughtful. "I'm intrigued. What's her name?"

  "Merry Warren. She's coming out to the airstrip next week to interview us."

  "Interview you," said Will. "I'm a silent partner, remember."

  "Nope. We all have to be there. That means you too, Will. The Knight brothers, united."

  "Can't do it. I have a job. Solving crimes, protecting and serving. Why do you want me there?"

  "Just a little something I picked up on when I was talking to Merry. She sounds h
ot, by the way."

  Ben was grinning like a madman. "This ought to be good. Tell you what, Will. You be there for the interview, and I'll stop hassling you."

  Will gave in—mostly so he could get to his shower faster. "Fine. Text me the time and I'll work it out."

  He loped up the worn stairs toward the second-floor bathroom. If Tobias thought there was anything between him and Merry, he was dreaming. Merry had made her feelings perfectly clear. She didn't like him.

  AnonyMs, on the other hand…

  He smiled as he stepped into the shower. AnonyMs was everything he wanted in a woman. Funny, real, honest, smart. And now they were starting to talk about sex. The next step seemed logical to him.

  What if he could talk AnonyMs into becoming a little less…anonymous?

  The Rootin' Rooster was located in an old warehouse in the industrial stretch of the waterfront. If Merry had to choose one word to describe the place, it would be "disgusting." She couldn't even find a spot on the bar the application didn't stick to. She figured no one would care enough to check her references, so she made up a few food service jobs for the past work history section.

  Of course, she left out the fact that she was currently employed by the Mercury News-Gazette.

  When she finished filling it out, the bartender gestured toward the back office. "Go on in there. Pete's the one who does the hiring."

  Pete turned out to be a black man in his thirties wearing a satin gym jacket. He looked her up and down. "You're looking pretty uptown for someone going for a waitress job."

  Crap. She'd overdressed. It probably didn't matter, since she didn't actually want the job. She just wanted to see the interior of the place and talk to the management. Her goal was to see if anything set off her reporter's Spidey sense. "Is that a problem, dressing nice for a job interview?"

  He bared his teeth in a smile. "Feisty, now. Okay then. Tell me why you want this job."

  "I need the money. I heard the tips are pretty good here."

  "They are, if you work for them."

  Merry hid a shiver of repulsion. She could just imagine what kind of "work" he meant. Not anything she wanted to do, that was for sure.

  "Well, you're a looker, you got that light-skinned exotic thing happening, a little sass, a little ass, I think we can find a few shifts for you. You work nights?"

  "Sure. Nights are better for me."

  "You got a man? A kid?"

  "Do I have to answer that?" She didn't want this scumbag knowing anything about her. "Whatever shifts you give me, I'll be there. I'll figure it out."

  He looked down at her application. She used the opportunity to quickly scan the office. A filing cabinet in the corner, piles of file folders. Some balled-up bartender aprons. Everything sloppy and uncared for. If something criminal was going on here, they'd keep much better order. They wouldn't take a chance on leaving files out like this.

  She relaxed. No way was this the headquarters of some kind of drug-smuggling enterprise. It was exactly what it looked like, a sleazy club for losers.

  Just then the phone on the desk flashed a red button. Pete stiffened, a subtle reaction that she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn’t been paying such close attention. "Gotta take this call," he said, forcibly relaxing his shoulders. Body language. It told the tale.

  She lingered, curious to know who was calling and why Pete had suddenly gotten so tense. "It’s okay, I don’t mind."

  The phone kept flashing. With a muttered curse, Pete pressed the button and answered with a low, "Yo."

  He listened, then said, "I'll be there. Yeah. Got a waitress in here interviewing. Yes, sir. Thanks." He hung up and pinned her with a glare. "What are you waiting for? A raise?"

  "So I’m hired?" Everything about his manner set off alarm bells. Her reporter's Spidey sense was definitely going crazy.

  He snorted. "You ain't too bright, are you?"

  She put on her best dim bulb look and planted a hand on her hip. "I'm plenty bright to wait tables. So am I hired or what?"

  "Yeah, yeah, you're hired. This a good number for you?" He checked the application. "I'll call you with your shifts."

  "Thank you, you won't regret it."

  She backed out of the office.

  As she hurried out of the bar, she looked with disgust at the clientele, who mostly seemed to be down and out members of the fishing industry, and the waitresses, who wore ridiculous costumes with tail feathers, like the rooster version of Playboy bunnies.

  Was she seriously going to do this? Wear a rooster costume? For a story?

  She knew firsthand how addiction could ruin lives. To keep her away from the menace in their own neighborhood, her mother had used all the Merriweather money to send her to private school in Manhattan. Ironically, three of her wealthy classmates had OD'd senior year. She knew perfectly well that no community was immune.

  Before Merry had gotten the job offer from the Gazette, she'd never even heard of Jupiter Point. But now she loved the charming, quirky little town. If she could do anything to stop drugs from taking hold here, she would. This story could help Jupiter Point, and it could help her career. To quote her new boss, it was big. If she had to wear rooster tails to get the scoop, she'd damn well cockadoodle-do-it.

  5

  A few days later, Merry, running late, dashed into the Mercury News-Gazette on her way to Knight and Day Flight Tours. The Gazette occupied one of the original Jupiter Point buildings from the early 1900s. Over the years, the sun had faded its red bricks to a deep rose color. The gilt paint on the art deco sign was chipping and the gables provided shelter for squirrels' nests. But Merry loved the old-school feel of the place.

  Still juggling her cinnamon latte, she made a quick stop in her office to grab her favorite jacket. Call it childish, but she wanted to look her best for this step into Will Knight's domain. She found her jacket draped over the back of her chair and tugged it on over her brown camisole. A Dolce & Gabbana knockoff, the sharply cut cream-colored blazer was the most expensive thing she owned. It gave her skin a deep bronze glow. She was busy adjusting the cuffs when two men stepped into her office.

  One was Douglas Wentworth, wearing a pink button-down shirt, horn-rimmed glasses and a soul patch on his chin. The other, she saw with a shock, was Chase. Her half-brother whom she still hadn't called.

  "Merry, I'd like you to meet our new intern. This is Chase Merriweather. He just graduated from the University of Virginia and he's a whiz at social media. I'm hoping he can juice up our online presence. Get us up on Instagram, that sort of thing. He can start with the Knight and Day story, it's nice and visual."

  She plastered a smile on her face and shook Chase's hand. Since she was already on thin ice with Wentworth, she couldn't object without a good reason. The fact that he was her secret half-brother didn't seem to qualify and definitely wasn't something she wanted to spread around. "Welcome aboard."

  He shook her hand, looking hopeful and apologetic at the same time. She dropped the smile as soon as she politely could. "Are you ready? I'm running a little late."

  "Sure."

  "Make it big," Douglas reminded them.

  She hurried out of the building, with Chase on her heels. As soon as she hit the sidewalk, she turned on him. "Seriously?"

  "I’m sorry. Are you really mad? I promise I won’t get in your way. It just kind of happened. I hadn’t heard from you, so I came to see you at the newspaper, but you were out on a story. Then I saw the ad for an intern and it felt like it was meant to be.”

  “I asked you to wait until I was ready.”

  "I know. You can still ignore me until then. But maybe it’ll be easier to get to know each other if we're working together."

  He fixed pleading puppy dog eyes on her. For such a preppy-looking kid, he got points for persistence.

  "I'll quit if you really want," he added meekly.

  She folded her arms across her chest and surveyed him. He was clueless but harmless, she supposed. She could deal better
with an intern than an overeager half-brother.

  "It's okay," she finally said. "You don't have to quit. Come on, my car's that way." She gestured down the street at her Corolla.

  He grinned, but pointed to a brand new, shiny black BMW right behind her car. "That's me. I can drive if you want."

  She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw spasmed. Of course he would have a fancy sports car. And of course he would assume his ride was better than hers. Well, it might be more expensive, but it wasn't better. She had all her stuff in her car and it was her home away from home and he could just go fly a kite.

  "Good idea." She unclenched her jaw to smile at him. "You can follow me there. Just stay close so you don't get lost."

  She walked away before he could protest. Okay, so maybe she still had some anger toward the Merriweather family. Not that any of it was Chase's fault. Logically, she knew that. Even so, she couldn't seem to speak normally to him.

  She headed for her Corolla, passing the Sky View Gallery on the way. Evie McGraw Marcus was sweeping the sidewalk outside her little shop. Evie waved at her with a big smile that included Chase, who was trailing just inches behind Merry. Normally she would have stopped and introduced them, but she wasn't ready to explain why she suddenly had a very white half-brother.

  So she cruised past with nothing more than a "call me" gesture.

  "Margaritas tonight!" Evie called after her. "Suzanne has a babysitter, so get ready for some fun!"

  "I'll be there!" She'd probably need an entire pitcher of margaritas by tonight.

  When she reached her car, she turned to Chase. "I'm heading that way down Constellation. Better keep up."

  "I'll be right behind you."

  The road to Knight and Day wound through the foothills clustered around Jupiter Point. This time of year, September, the hills glowed umber brown and the valley held deep purple shadows. As she drove, Merry thought about the earthquake currently shaking up her life.