He growled low in his throat, “Get out of there.”
One soulful second later, Bud—short for “Budweiser”—raised his head from inside the coffin and rested his hanging jowls on the edge of the polished wooden box. The pain of being chastised flashed in his huge bug eyes. Bud, an English bulldog, hated being chastised.
“Out,” Dallas said, lowering his voice. “It’s not a doggy bed.”
The prior owners of the building, which had been a funeral home, had left the damn casket when they moved out six months ago. Dallas had called and left numerous messages asking them to remove the dang thing, but no response. The last time he’d told them they had one more week, and he was going to sell it on eBay. He was tired of having to explain the casket to his clients.
The dog leaped out of the coffin and barreled over to Dallas. After one swipe over the dog’s side, Dallas glanced at his watch and shot back to the office. He found Tyler, one of his Only in Texas Private Investigations partners, listening to the police scanner as he watched the television. Tyler’s expression had worry stamped all over it, too.
“He hasn’t called yet?” Dallas removed his gun from his holster and placed it in his desk—a habit he hadn’t broken from the seven years he’d worked for the Glencoe Police Department. Seven years he wished he could get back. The only good thing that had come from those years was the friendship of his PI partners, Tyler and Austin.
Tyler glanced away from the television. “Not a word. Any luck at the park?”
“There were two female joggers, but neither of them fit the description Nance gave.”
Frowning, Tyler leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid we’re not going to get anything to save this kid. He’s going to go down for robbery.”
“It’s not over.” No way would Dallas let that innocent boy do time. But right now, both he and Tyler should be worried about one of their own. Dallas motioned to the police scanner. “Have the cops been called out yet?”
Tyler nodded and concern pinched his brows, making the two-inch scar over his right eye stretch tighter. “Thirty minutes ago.”
“Shit,” Dallas said. “Why the hell hasn’t he called?”
“You know Austin,” Tyler said. “He’s a lone wolf.”
“That’s not how we operate,” Dallas said, but in his gut he knew they were all lone wolves. Life had taught them that was the only way to live. Getting set up by a lowlife drug dealer named DeLuna and then having almost everyone you believed in turn their backs on you—not to mention spending sixteen months in the slammer—well, it did that to you. It made you feel as if the only one you could trust was yourself.
Dallas glanced at the silent television. “Any media coverage?”
“Not yet,” Tyler said. “But the cops called for another unit to help hold them back, so they’re there.”
“Have you tried to reach him?” Dallas dialed Austin’s number.
“He’s not answering.” Tyler grabbed the remote and ramped up the volume. “We got something.”
Dallas glanced at the redheaded reporter on the screen, but listened to his cell until the call went to Austin’s voice mail and he hung up. The camera closed in on the reporter as she announced a breaking news segment.
“God, she’s hot,” Tyler said.
Dallas studied the redhead as she held a microphone close to her lips. “You need to get laid.”
“Okay,” Tyler said. “You want to give my number to that hot brunette I saw leaving here last week? Or tell your ex to pay me a visit. She could leave her underwear at my place, too.”
“Funny,” Dallas said, and regretted telling the guys about his screwup with his ex. Then again, he hadn’t told them. His dog had. Bud had come traipsing into the office the next morning with a pair of red panties hanging from his jowls. Thankfully, Suzan—aka, the hot brunette—was careful to take her underwear with her when she left his bed. And she didn’t expect—or want—more than he was willing to give. The perfect relationship—pure sex. Twice a month, when her ex got her kids for the weekend, she showed up at his place. Most nights, she didn’t even stay over. Sex and the bed to himself—what more could a guy ask?
The news reporter started talking. “We’re here at the home of Blake Mallard, CEO of Acorn Oil Company. An anonymous caller said Mallard’s dirty shenanigans, both with the company and his personal life, were about to be made public.” The reporter paused.
“He had to have gotten out.” Tyler traced his finger over the scar at his temple. He’d earned it during their stint in prison. While Tyler never talked about the fight, Dallas knew the guy who’d given Tyler the mark hadn’t walked away unscathed. Rumor in the pen had it the guy hadn’t walked away at all, but had to be carried out on a stretcher. Jail time was never a walk in the park, but Dallas suspected Tyler had had a harder time behind bars than both he and Austin.
The reporter started talking again, and a smile threatened to spill from her lips. “According to sources, Mallard was found handcuffed to his bed with a call girl. The missing files Mallard swore were stolen from his office were found in the room. We’re told the cops were called to the residence by Mallard’s wife, who was worried someone had broken in.”
After a few beats of silence, the reporter continued. “We’re told the girl found with Mallard is claiming a guy dressed in a clown costume handcuffed them to the bed and pulled the files from Mallard’s private safe.”
“Did y’all try to call me?” Austin’s voice came from the doorway.
Dallas glanced up. “You…” Words failed him.
“I love it,” Tyler said and laughed.
“You mean this?” Austin motioned at his bright red-and-blue polka-dotted clown suit and multicolored wig. Whipping off the wig, he tossed it up and caught it.
Dallas shook his head. “You love theatrics, don’t you?”
“Theatrics? Are you kidding? This was brilliance. It’s a gated community. I had to get past security. A birthday party was happening next door to the Mallards. They wouldn’t let in a guy wearing a ski mask, but a clown? Not a problem.” Austin looked at the TV. “Did I make the news?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tyler said.
Austin tossed his wig on his desk. “It’s not every day we get to solve a cheating-spouse case and a real crime at the same time. It felt good. And now we can put this case to bed and I can focus on proving Nance is innocent.”
Dallas raked his hand through his hair. “I’ll bet a hundred bucks my brother will be calling me within five minutes, wanting to know if we’re behind this.”
Austin dropped his clown-suited ass into a chair. “Tell him Miller PD owes me a beer for solving their case.”
The reporter appeared on the screen again. Austin looked at the television. “She’s hot.”
“That’s what I said.” Tyler grinned.
Austin looked back at Dallas. “Did you get anything at the park?”
“Nothing,” Dallas said.
“I’m going to try a few different parks around here,” Austin said. “Maybe the chick swaps off and jogs at different places.”
“Maybe,” Dallas said.
“Did you hear from Roberto?” Austin asked Tyler.
“Yeah,” Tyler answered. “None of his leads point to DeLuna.”
“Then tell him to get some new leads,” Austin said, his frustration clearly showing at having so much time pass since they’d had anything on DeLuna.
Dallas’s cell phone rang. He checked the number. “See,” he told Austin. “It’s my brother.”
“I thought pissing off the guys in blue was our goal.” Austin crossed his arms.
“You’re wrong.” Dallas stared at the phone. “Pissing off the lowlife drug runner DeLuna is our goal. Pissing off the guys in blue…” He looked up with a grin. “Well, that’s just an added benefit. My brother being the exception, of course.”
As his partners chuckled, Dallas answered the call. “What’s up, Tony?”
“Damn, Dallas, tell me tha
t wasn’t you,” Tony demanded.
“What wasn’t me?” Dallas shot Austin an I-told-you-so frown.
“Why do I think you’re lying?” Tony came back.
“Because you’re a suspicious son of a bitch.”
Tony sighed. “Can you meet me for a burger at Buck’s Place in half an hour?”
“Why?”
“To eat,” Tony said.
Dallas wasn’t buying it. Not that he and his brother didn’t do dinner. They had weekly dinners with their dad. But something told Dallas that Tony wanted more than a burger and fries. To confirm it, Dallas asked, “You paying?”
“Sure,” Tony said.
Yup, Tony wanted something. His brother never agreed to pay.
Nikki watched Jack rearrange his silverware in an attempt to avoid her question. “What’s going on, Jack?” she asked again.
He shook his head. “Just trouble at work.”
“What kind of trouble?”
He shifted his arm, knocking the linen napkin off the table. Scooting back in his chair, he reached to collect the cloth. Falling into old habits, she signaled for the waiter to bring a clean napkin.
“It’s okay,” Jack said, sitting up.
That’s when she knew something had to be seriously wrong. Jack, a germ freak, would never use a dropped napkin.
“Look, the reason I asked you here is… I need a wife on my arm.”
“A wife?” Had she heard him right? He didn’t need her. He needed a wife. Anyone would do. As long as they were trainable and, damn it, she’d proven she was. Only not anymore.
“I realize I slipped up.”
“Really, you think screwing my part-time help was a slipup?”
He frowned but before he could answer, his phone buzzed again. He looked at the caller ID. “I have to take this.” He put a hand on his stomach and swayed when he stood up. Even though she was furious, she almost suggested he sit down, but then he grabbed her beer and set it down on a table that a busboy was cleaning.
Damn him! She popped up, tossed her napkin on the table, and went to rescue her beer. Eying the busboy, she grinned. “I think I lost this.” Then she plopped back down in her seat. She wasn’t Jack’s to train anymore and when he returned she would, for the first time, tell him exactly what she thought of him. After she enjoyed her dinner, of course.
Five minutes later, dinner arrived but Jack still hadn’t. Considering manners were optional tonight, she started without him. She even enjoyed some of Jack’s beef burgundy. She’d been so involved in savoring the food, she hadn’t realized so much time had passed.
“Is he coming back?” the waiter asked.
“Of course he is.” Panic clenched her stomach and she nearly choked on the steak. “He has to.”
She waited another twenty minutes, even had the busboy check the bathroom, before she accepted the inevitable. Jack wasn’t coming back. The waiter returned with the check and eyed her suspiciously as if to say any woman who would stick her finger in her date’s soup was thoroughly capable of the eat-and-run offense.
Glancing at the check, she muttered, “I’m going to kill him!”
“Kill who?” the waiter asked.
“Who do you think?” She peeked at the bill and moaned. A hundred and eighty without tip, then there was the fee the bank would charge her for overdrawing her checking account.
Her stomach roiled again, this time in a bad way. Snatching up her purse, she found her debit card. Thankfully, she had overdraft insurance. With anger making her shake, she handed the card to the waiter. Her stomach cramped. She considered complaining that something she’d eaten had upset her stomach, but she knew how that would look.
“Yup, he’s as good as dead!”
“I’m killing him,” Nikki muttered fifteen minutes later as she pulled out her already overdrawn debit card again.
The grocery store cashier scanned the Pepto-Bismol, Tums, Rolaids, and antidiarrheal meds before looking at Nikki. “Kill who?”
Why did people think just because she was talking, she was speaking to them? Was she the only one who talked to herself? Nevertheless, with the cashier’s curious stare, Nikki felt obligated to answer. “My ex.” She placed a palm on her stomach as it roiled.
Holding her purchases in a plastic bag, Nikki couldn’t escape quickly enough. She darted out the door. The ball of orange sun hung low in the predusk sky. Her eyes stung. She almost got to the car when the smell of grilled burgers from the hamburger joint next door washed over her and the full wave of nausea hit. A woman with two kids dancing around her came right at Nikki. Not wanting to upchuck on an innocent child, she swung around in the opposite direction, opened her bag, and heaved as quietly as she could inside it.
Realizing she’d just puked on her medicine, she lost her backbone, and tears filled her eyes. Only the weak cry. The words filled her head, but damn it, right now she was weak.
She rushed to her car, wanting only to get home. Tying a knot in the bag, she grabbed her keys, hit the clicker to unlock the doors, and then popped open the trunk.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her stomach cramped so hard her breath caught.
She got to her bumper, was just about to drop the contaminated bag into the trunk when she saw… She blinked the tears from her eyes as if that alone would make the image go away.
It didn’t.
There, stuffed in the back of her car, was a body.
She recognized the Armani suit first. Then she saw his face. His eyes were wide open, but something was missing.
Life.
Jack was dead.
Jack was dead in the trunk of her car.
Her vision started to swirl.
She tried to scream. Nausea hit harder. Unable to stop herself, she lost the rest of her two-hundred-dollar meal all over her dead ex-husband’s three-thousand-dollar suit.
Also by Christie Craig
Only in Texas
Blame It on Texas
Praise for
The Hotter in Texas Novels
Blame It on Texas
“Craig returns to Texas and the hunky boys of the Only in Texas PI agency in this sexy, lighthearted romp centered around a sassy heroine on a mission and the gorgeous hero who falls for her. Complete with genuine characters who have heart, this story will keep you laughing as you turn the pages. A truly fun read!”
—RT Book Reviews
“Blame It on Texas is contemporary romance at its best, with the right blend of humor, emotion, mystery, and just a hint of sexiness… I can’t wait to see what’s in store for the detectives in the next book in the series.”
—FreshFiction.com
“[Craig] definitely doesn’t disappoint here… Both Zoe and Tyler are extremely appealing… [She] writes amusing scenes, believable dialogue, and charming characters… With this second solid book, Ms. Craig solidifies her standing on my must-buy list. In fact, the excerpt for the third book, Austin’s story, has definitely titillated my interest.”
—All About Romance (LikesBooks.com)
“Irresistible… Christie Craig’s stories are like an addictive drink. They’re refreshing and just what you need to quench your thirst for some steamy and funny romance.”
—RomRevToday.com
“Christie Craig is the master of taking a story and rolling out the romance in a way that has every reader begging for more.”
—The Reading Reviewer (MaryGramlich.blogspot.com)
Only in Texas
“4 Stars! An entertaining tale with delightful, fully formed characters and an intriguing mystery.”
—RT Book Reviews
“I lost count of the number of times I laughed out loud… Craig [has a] wonderful ability to write comedic dialogue, appealing characters, tender sentiments, and sexy love scenes… I’m not sure how I missed Ms. Craig’s books… Now that I know what is inside the covers, I won’t make that mistake again.”
—All About Romance (LikesBooks.com)
“Fun… [a] caper-fi
lled story… a good madcap-type romance. I look forward to Tyler’s and Austin’s stories.”
—TheRomanceReader.com
“Steamy… Craig seems to have a real knack for writing fun little romantic romps… There is an almost tongue-in-cheek quality to them that just makes them fun to read… I know all I need to do is just sit back and enjoy the ride… Be sure to check out Only in Texas.”
—TopRomanceNovels.com
“Absolutely a delight to read. Christie Craig has hit a home run with Only in Texas. I laughed, teared up, laughed, sighed, laughed, blushed, laughed, and laughed, and finally finished the last page with a bit of sadness because I did not want this book to end. It made for a great weekend of reading pleasure.”
—GoodReads.com
“Craig offers up another well-written and nicely plotted story… [She] always delivers enjoyable, light romantic mysteries—add Only in Texas to the list.”
—BookLoons.com
THE DISH
Where Authors Give You the Inside Scoop
From the desk of Jaime Rush
Dear Reader,
Enemies to lovers is a concept I’ve always loved. Yes, it’s a challenge, and maybe that’s what I like most. It’s a given that the couple is going to have instant chemistry—it is a romance, after all! But they’re going to fight it harder because they have history and a good reason. Each person believes they’re in the right.
That’s how Kade Kavanaugh feels. Being a member of the Guard, my supernatural world’s police force, he has had plenty of run-ins with Violet Castanega’s family. They live in the Fringe, a wild and uncivilized community of Dragon shifters who think they are on the fringe of the law as well. And mostly they are, except when their illegal activities threaten to catch the attention of the Muds, the Mundane human police. Because Rule Number One is simple: Never reveal the existence of the Hidden community that has existed amid the glitter and glamour of Miami for over three hundred years. Mundanes would panic if they knew that Crescents—humans who hold the essence of Dragons, sorcerers (like Kade), and fallen angels—lived among them.
Texas Hold 'Em Page 38
