by Abby Knox
I go to Shane’s room to check on him. He’s sleeping soundly.
I pack a bag while I call the police to file a report with the desk sergeant over the phone, and then I text Millie. Next, I crawl into Shane’s bed and wait for Dave to come and pick us up.
Now would be a very good time for that mind-lab-created beefy hero to show up, but, alas, he doesn’t exist.
Chapter Three
Max
I can’t believe my good luck.
No, not good luck. Not amazing luck. Sheer, confounding, golden-horseshoe-up-the-ass happy coincidence.
After the all-night stakeout—which was followed by a thorough chewing out from my loudmouth brother—I drove straight over to my sister’s house to install a new security system. She didn’t ask me for help, but when she mentioned they were in the market for one, I volunteered. I’m not a fan of internet-based security defenses. I like to cobble together my own thing that still uses a landline to alert the police if there’s an intruder. Yeah, I’m still the overprotective big brother; this kind of shit is my love language for my family.
Unbeknownst to me, while I was working, Millie was in the kitchen, hashing out the news of the day with her Mom Squad. When I popped my head in there to let her know everything looked good to go, a hit of bacon teased my growling stomach and my hungry eyes landed on…her.
Val. Sitting there to Millie’s left, looking at me over the rim of her mug of steaming coffee, her big brown eyes reading me. A dark pink Muppet pelt is wrapped around her shoulders, like it’s cold outside. It’s already starting to get humid this spring, so I don't know what kind of chill she is warding off in that getup, but it looks good. My caveman brain estimates it’s big enough that, if unfolded, I could wrap her up in it like a burrito and make it easier to carry her over my shoulder.
Underneath the wrap, her fitted top's wide neckline reveals half of a tattoo — a hand with an eye on the center — just below her collar bone. With her hair pulled up in a loose knot, her dangling crescent moon earrings glint at me against the enticing line of her neck. The whole look she’s got going makes me want to lick my lips.
Focus, Max. Focus. There’s wiring to be done for the keypad and shit. Forcing myself to tear my eyes off of Val, I get right on the task at hand.
It doesn’t take long before that’s done and I turn back to the group, which has now moved on from politics to husbands. I look at Val, who’s contentedly sipping her coffee.
She catches me staring. I’m hot and tired from working outside, climbing on ladders, installing motion sensor lights and cameras, and using power tools all morning. I’m probably so dehydrated that it’s affecting my judgment, because I decide I don’t care that Val can see me staring at the neckline of her snug little shirt. She’s got pretty collarbones, and I’m just gonna go ahead and be a creep and stare.
Without taking my eyes off those clavicles, I ask Millie, “Hey sis, you wanna key in the code or let me pick?”
“Sorry everyone, this will just take a minute,” Millie says to her guests. While Millie keys in her code, my eyes can’t be torn away from Val, who’s fully goggling at me, unless I’m mistaken.
Then, something close to recognition washes over her face. “You must be the other brother who works for the police.”
“Oh! Yes, you already know Marty. Have you and Max met before?” Millie asks, while I impatiently gesture for her to key in the code a second time to set it.
“I don’t think so? At least, I don’t remember meeting you before. Hi, Max. I’m Valerie.”
“I know,” I reply, my eyes traveling up from her collarbone to her face.
Millie watches me with squinty eyes while she speaks to her friends. “Max was just recently promoted to detective, so I’m sure you’ll see each other at some point.”
“Well, let’s hope you won’t need my services, “ Val says with a small chuckle. “But now that you’re here, I could use some advice.”
I take one big-footed step farther into the room. “Oh yeah?”
Millie titters behind me. I know what she’s thinking. She says I look like a giant puppy when I’m eager.
I can’t help it. I can’t hide it when I’m excited. And I’m genuinely into helping people.
“Well,” Val says, cautiously. “I’ve been getting weird phone calls at my place of business. It would not be that weird—I get hang ups all the time—but lately there’s been more, and all from unknown numbers. And then last night, there was a threatening phone call from an unknown number on my cell phone.”
I don't like this at all, but I gotta keep my cool. She tells me the whole story of what happened and my blood starts to boil.
“I’ll look into it and put a stop to the guy myself if I have to. Any friend of Millie’s is a friend of mine.”
A shy smile crosses her face and some of the other moms raise their eyebrows. I know it was a bit over the top, what I said, but the women say nothing as they eat their snacks and drink their drinks.
When I’m finished showing Millie how to use the keypad, I hang around for a while in the kitchen and help myself to a beer out of the fridge. Dave always has the really expensive shit, though I don’t pull my nose up for anything free.
The ladies’ conversation then takes an interesting turn when I hear someone mention a cockfighting ring. I listen to see if they know more about our Mr. Thorne than I do.
“That motherfucker,” I hear Val sneer. “I’d love to be the one to upend that whole operation. You know, I’ve been following it in the animal rights forum and I think I have an idea of which neighborhood it might be in.”
Her voice is animated and I love it. But, based on what I hear, none of them know any more than I do. I keep my mouth shut, my ears open and my eyes focused elsewhere, even though all I want is to study Val some more. But I can’t give away the fact that I’m investigating that ring.
Millie saunters into the kitchen with a knowing look on her face.
“Something I can help you with, big brother?”
“Just having my beer. You know, as a thank you for installing your new system.”
She nods. “Day drinking now? Would you like to stay for dessert? We’re testing out birthday cake flavors for the party on Saturday.”
“Nah,” I say, even though I do really want to stay. I know what she’s doing. She’s teasing me because she can tell I have a thing for Val. “Sounds like you’re all planning to take down some organized crime. I’m staying out of it.”
Millie lifts one shoulder. “Nah. Angela’s super bored whenever we talk strategy. I don’t see our mass infiltration happening any time soon. Some of us have toyed with the idea of running for office, though.”
I snort and sip my beer. It’s not that I don’t think they should try it, but because the good ol’ boy network in this city is fairly entrenched. “Can’t be any worse than what we got now on the city council.” Millie purses her lips playfully at my lack of proper grammar but she lets it go.
The teasing about Val, however, she does not let go of. “You know, you could help us. We’d love some inside info from you about what’s really going on in this town. And I’d love to watch you try to flirt some more,” she says.
“How about you go jump in a lake?”
“You really want to impress Val? The entertainment I hired for the party just cancelled. How would you like to be Captain Jack Sparrow?”
“Yeah right, Mills.”
“I’m serious. She likes men who don’t take themselves too seriously. You’ve got that in spades.”
“Jack Sparrow? Come on. You’re not going to find a costume to fit me at this late date.”
“I can make you the shirt. Don’t even worry about that.”
“Geez.”
“If you want me to put in a good word for you with Val, you’ll do this for me.”
I bare my teeth at her but she smiles back. “Fine,” I say.
“Great. Love you, brother.”
I shake
my head and excuse myself to the man cave on the other side of the house. I have suffered enough humiliation for one afternoon.
Doctor Dave is editing his next podcast when I walk in. He waves me inside with a nod while he’s mashing buttons and shit.
“Hey, Max, what’s up?” he says, gesturing to some seating on the far end of the room.
I carefully sit on a small but stylish loveseat. I’ve been known to crush cheap furniture before. Millie calls me Hagrid sometimes, all because of that one incident—just one—when my weight bent the cheap aluminum chair legs at the pizza place. I paid for the chair, of course, even though it was their fault for buying shitty furniture for their diners.
“I didn’t know Millie was friends with our psychic?”
“Come again?” Dave says, distractedly mashing more buttons.
“Val, I guess is her name. You interviewed her for the show.”
“Oh, Val! Yeah, a little scary with that thousand-yard stare, but pretty nice.”
“Yeah, she’s our psychic.”
“Your what?”
“Our department sometimes brings her in as a consultant to help solve tough cases.”
Dave wasn’t aware, judging by his face. “You’re kidding. I can’t believe it didn’t come up during our interview.”
I chortle. “Your wife is friends with her and she never told you what she does for a living?”
“Excuse me, why are we talking about my wife’s friend?” Dave asks.
“No reason.”
Finally, Dave takes his eyes off of his editing and turns to look me dead in the eye.
“Oh wait. You want to ask her out, don’t you? You dirty dog. Are you paying me a visit in my studio to try and get me to ask Millie to put in a good word with one of her friends?”
I snort dismissively. “Why, don’t you think I can get a date on my own?”
“Sure, but do you even have a plan?”
I puff out my chest. “How about I just walk up to her and say, ‘hi, would you like to go on a date with me?’”
Dave shakes his head and wheezes out a laugh. “Fella. Listen. I don’t know Val very well, but I’m pretty sure that approach—”
I don’t know what Dave is about to say because we’re interrupted by a phone call from Martin.
“Marty, ’sup.”
My brother makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and an angry grunt. “I’m your chief! Come on, man. Have some respect.”
I grit my teeth. “All right, chief. What’s up?”
“We’ve got some serious assholery afoot and I need you to come in. Got some death threats at several local businesses. It’s probably nothing but a bored teenager, but I need you to take a look.” Everything he goes on to describe sounds eerily similar to what happened to Val last night.
I unceremoniously wave goodbye to Dave and head out the door. On my way out, I say goodbye to Millie and her friends. I notice that Val isn’t there anymore.
Shit.
I need to figure out what’s going on and I need to find her.
Chapter Four
Val
This cannot be real.
“What do you mean ‘bodyguard’?”
My jaw is on the floor as I shift my gaze from one twin to the other. Chief Hanson is telling me I need security on me at all times. And that the person he’s assigning to me happens to be his and Millie’s brother, who I met for the first time this morning?
This is insane. “Chief, it was just a creepy phone call. Can’t you just do some internet and phone-company magic and find out where the calls are coming from? Don’t you think this”—I glance over at Max, sizing up his imposing stature—“is a little over the top?”
Martin puts up his hands. “I know, but we’ve had a dozen incident reports just like yours all across the city, within the last week. Somebody is threatening psychics, healers, and spiritual readers specifically. We’re taking it seriously. I’ve taken Max here off of a cockfighting ring investigation and putting him on you, 24/7.”
I’m aghast. I’d heard about that cockfighting ring. In fact, the Mom Squad and I had been half-jokingly talking about infiltrating it and rescuing all those chickens. Or are they all roosters? Whatever, they need to be rescued. If we only knew where they were. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. The problem at hand is that my entire existence is now under the scrutiny of a badge-carrying Incredible Hulk.
“Chief, I have a business to run, a life to live…”
Max pipes up. “And you still do. You won’t even know I’m there.”
I look him up and down again. He may be Martin’s identical twin, but there are several easy ways to tell them apart. First, there’s the beard; Martin is clean shaven. Second, Max’s tree trunk legs are wider in the thigh than Martin’s. But more than that, their auras are completely different. What I’m also picking up is that Martin has a giant chip on his shoulder about something. He also had some seriously wild sex that morning. Max on the other hand, exudes a horniness I cannot even believe. It seems to me, he hasn’t had sex in years. How that is possible is beyond me. On the outside, he’s the physical embodiment of everything my imagination dreamed up while lying in bed last night in my Weird Science fantasy: big, beefy, bearded. Hoo, boy. But so damn hard up, and super into me.
No, it’s not his aura that tells me he’s into me. It’s the fact that he can’t stop staring at me. My boobs, my lips, my hair, sure. But when our eyes meet, his face goes a little…soft. It’s almost cute, if anyone would ever apply the word “cute” to someone who looks like he could pound a person into next week without breaking a sweat. Oh god, did I just think the word “pound”?
Yeah, you did. Maybe the one who’s hard up is actually you, Valerie.
I think about what he’s just said. Picturing him in my small reading room, he’s likely to clonk his noggin on every single hanging lamp in the place. He’ll probably break something if he decides to sit down on any of the pieces of antique furniture.
I bite my lip, feeling skeptical about this arrangement. Nervousness swirls in my tummy about how my customers will feel about this larger-than-life cop lurking around. Even so, I’ll admit to feeling a bit thrilled about it down in the depths of my body…in areas way below my tummy.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right. If you think this is for the best, then I’ll go along with it. Just, please don’t tell Millie. I don’t want my friends making a big deal about it.”
Something I said causes Max’s lip to curl up playfully on one side. I swallow and I hand over my phone to allow the big guy to put a tracker on it.
Max’s rough fingers brush against mine when he hands the phone back to me. The fine hairs on the back of my index finger absorb the sensation, sending tiny sparks of pleasure over my skin and up my arm.
My senses are bewildered. I don’t know if it’s my libido or my sixth sense telling me that this man is OK. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s totally fine if I wonder about how those calloused fingers would feel against my skin. It would be nice to lose myself in a moment, to forget my responsibilities and fears. It would be marvelous not to feel compelled to read someone in the moment. And just feel human.
Even if it’s with someone I’ve just met.
While my reserved nature remains hesitant, the fact that he’s a cop—and any more touching than this innocent finger brushing would probably violate all kinds of ethics codes—makes this man that much more enticing.
Chapter Five
Valerie
I know he said I would not notice his presence as he lurked around my place of business, but seeing his six-foot-four frame taking up acreage in my dainty space, that promise is completely laughable. Every fiber of every plank of wood in the walls of this building can sense the presence of my bodyguard. Each stick of antique furniture in the place trembles in fear. Tiptoeing through the displays of candles and incense, crystals and essential oils, is a giant with a sidearm.
I tap away at
my computer, answering email and going over my schedule for today. When I look up, Max is fingering a display of salt lamps. His husky voice vibrates through me, even from all the way across the room. “So what are these things supposed to do again?”
I sigh because I’ve already explained this. “It releases ions into the air and purifies your chi.”
“What’s chi again?”
“Nobody really knows but it’s like your stored energy, not really a tangible thing.”
“Like cleansing your aura?”
“Sort of. Not exactly.” I make a mental note to do his star chart later because I’m absolutely certain that Max must be a Sagittarius with his relentless questions.
And then he knocks over a salt lamp, nearly breaking it. It falls to the floor with a loud thump. “Oh, sorry,” he says.
Scratch that, I think as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Aries.”
“Huh?” He grunts, looking up at me.
I clear my throat. “I said, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but do you think you could keep your hands to yourself, at least for the duration of my next client’s visit? And by that I mean wait outside?”
Max glances around the room. “Is there a back door to this place?”
I nod my head and point to the tiny break room/supply closet combo. “Yes. Through there.”
Then he says, “No can do. There’s only one of me.”
I sanitize my hands in preparation for the upcoming palm reading. “What do you think is going to happen, Max? Do you think he’s going to tear through the back door and get me while you’re waiting out front?”
He juts out his chin. “Yes, that’s exactly what I think will happen if I’m waiting outside.”
Gosh, he has nice whiskers. “Well there’s a 50/50 chance he’ll come to the front door,” I reply.
