Dickens of a Death

by Ashantay Peters

  Ginger was right. I needed her company to stop my useless brooding over Dirk.

  “Irish coffee sounds better, and I can use your bow-making expertise.”

  “I’m not far away. I’ll stop for the whiskey and be right over.”

  “No need. I’ve got some here.”

  “Okay. See you in a bit.”

  “I’m getting lit as we speak.” That was our inside joke for turning on the tree lights. We both loved nothing more than sitting in a dark room, admiring the twinkles and glittery ornament reflections. It’d be a bittersweet event tonight. The whiskey belonged to Dirk, and I’d only set up the tree after seeing Dirk’s blonde. Shoot. We hadn’t even made one Christmas together.

  “Later.”

  A cold breeze swept through the living room as I hung up. Dang, the door must not have caught when I kicked it closed. I turned and stopped short.

  Nathan Anderson stood in my hallway. He had a gun, but it wasn’t gift-wrapped.

  “Detective Anderson? Am I under arrest?”

  “Not exactly.” He reached back with one hand and shut the door firmly. He flipped the lock. “I’m curious.”

  “You’re aiming a gun at me because you’re curious?”

  “Let’s talk.” He pointed toward the living room couch with his gun’s muzzle. “Sit.”

  I sat. Shit, shit, triple shit. My mind whirled. Nathan Anderson? This kid not long out of community college? What had he done? And why?

  He leaned against the doorframe. In my small house, he stood just beyond point blank range. Anderson looked way too at ease.

  “First, why don’t you tell me what happened when you were called in for questioning.”

  “Called in? You mean today?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Johnson told me they think you cut your own brake line to draw suspicion off Mrs. Winslow.” He snorted. “And lost control of your car on the road. Guess they thought the dents were prior damage on your old clunker.”

  His comments didn’t make sense. I stared at him. He’d been deliberately kept out of the loop. Perhaps Dirk already suspected his involvement. Now what?

  “Dirk tried to say that I’d lost control, yes. I can prove the damage is new. No prints were found on the brake line.” I guessed at that, but it was information Tom Jenkins would have ferreted out had that been the interview’s reason.

  “Why was your red-headed friend called in?”

  “Ginger?”

  Oh, God, she’d arrive soon. And then what would happen? He’d shoot her through the door? Invite her in to die with me? I had to take action before she arrived.

  Though I’d partially healed, my body sported too many bruises and sore muscles. I knew from previous experience that fast moves are vital when confronting criminals. Anderson stood too close. I inched to the side, moving so the coffee table wouldn’t hinder movement.

  “Your friend?” His voice rose. The gun didn’t waver. “Why was she there?”

  “She, um, they thought the vise grips came from her garage.”

  His jaw tightened.

  “Her husband, he, uh, he’s a weekend mechanic. They think she’d know how to cut a brake line and hold it together.”

  “And her mother is a master gardener with a science degree. Good. Everything came together like planned.”

  “Planned? Who’s in this with you? Or did you pull this off on your own?”

  “Don’t think you need to worry about that. You should have paid attention. I tried to scare you off twice, but you and your friend ignored my hints. Now you’ve forced me to take stronger action.” He gestured with his gun. “What else did they ask you?” He took one step to the side. “No, I want to know what you learned in Chesterfield. Why did you return?”

  “S-shopping. We were Christmas shopping.”

  “Don’t lie to me. Did someone see my aunt there?”

  “I’m not lying. Ginger found Victorian ornaments there, and we went back to see if they’d gotten any more in. They had.” Only one had broken when we’d been run off the road. Why I thought of that now with a gun pointed at me defied understanding. Ginger, right, she’d be here soon. How could I throw this guy off stride?

  “Dirk is on his way over. That was him on the phone.”

  Anderson laughed. Not a cheery Santa’s ho-ho-ho. “Nice try. Johnson’s not going anywhere, except maybe to bed with the new dispatcher.” He shook his head. “I’d have liked a piece of her, but she clamped onto Johnson the first day.”

  He sneered Dirk’s last name, and my stomach added one more knot to the mess in there. Now was not the time to think about Dirk’s abandonment.

  “Why?”

  He tilted his head to the side. “Why what?” He smirked. “I suppose you want me to tell all. The big confession scene, right? So you can stall in case you’ll be saved?” He snorted. “Forget about it. Get up.”

  I stood, then sank onto the couch. My knees didn’t want to help this guy out by working.

  “I said get up.” His growl reminded me of feeding time at the zoo. “Now.”

  My knees worked this time. I took one step toward him.

  “Stop right there.”

  That’s when the front door rattled. “Katie? Are you there?”

  The voice sounded muffled, but it was Ginger’s. I reacted without thought. “Ginger. Run!”

  Anderson moved toward me. I grabbed his gun hand with both of mine.

  We struggled. Adrenaline and fear made me strong.

  I wanted to kick him in the knee, but I needed the leverage my legs supplied. Dirk had taught me self-defense moves, but nothing that I remembered included disarming a much larger man.

  His hands were damp. Nerves? Could I force him to drop the gun?

  My body’s fight mechanism began flagging. He’d win if I couldn’t disarm him first. My arms shook. I redoubled my efforts.

  Anderson’s arm pushed both of mine down. I moved fast, pulling one arm away from his hand and throwing a blind punch toward his throat. I heard his breath catch, and he dropped the gun. I stepped back, searching for the weapon.

  “One more move and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” Ginger stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms extended in a shooter’s stance. That would have been surprise enough, but using the f-bomb?

  “Katie. Move away. Now.”

  I jumped to the side.

  The front door broke open. Two officers holding a battering ram moved aside allowing Dirk, Matt, and a small contingent of officers to enter fast. Pistols extended, they surrounded Anderson, quickly cuffing him. Matt read the Miranda warning off a card while another officer stood watching. They weren’t taking any chances with this arrest.

  Meanwhile, Ginger had moved to my side. I felt her pistol resting against my back when we hugged. Competently aiming pistols and using the f-bomb? What had happened to my friend when I wasn’t looking?

  Her murmured words caught my full attention.

  “When your tree lights weren’t on, I called Matt from my car. I knew something was wrong.”

  “I told you to run. Didn’t you hear me?”

  “I couldn’t run.”

  Yeah, I got that. We always knew when the other was in trouble.

  “What’s with the gun?”

  She blushed. “Matt’s been giving me lessons. He says the world is a dangerous place, and I should be able to defend myself.”

  “So my friend is packing heat and didn’t tell me?”

  Her face turned a brighter shade of red. “I practiced at the range yesterday morning. Good thing, huh?”

  I nodded. “So you used your spare key and unlocked the kitchen door?”

  “Yeah, I saw him through the window. I knew I couldn’t come in the front. No clear shot, and he might have used you as a hostage.”

  I stared at her. “You could have been killed.”

  “Or you. I couldn’t stand outside wringing my hands, waiting for Matt and Dirk while you faced a nut case alone.” She sniffed. “You’d
have done the same. Besides, I figured you’d take advantage of the distraction and give me time to move.”

  Couldn’t argue with her when she spoke the truth.

  A commotion at the door drew our attention. “You have no right to treat me like a criminal. Why are you making me come in here? Let me go. I’m calling my husband.”

  Ginger and I shared an incredulous glance. Madeline Rose stood in my front hall, fussing as if she had every right to demand obedience. One officer had his hand on her shoulder.

  “Aunt Rose, be quiet,” Anderson yelled. “Don’t say a word.” Two officers escorted him out. “Not a word” drifted back to our ears.

  “What are you doing with my nephew? Why is he handcuffed? Someone had better give me some answers. Now. Or do I need to call the chief?”

  Dirk took her elbow and led her into the living room. He motioned to Matt with his head. Matt nodded and left, but not before instructing two officers to help replace the front door.

  I stood shivering, and not solely from the cold wind entering the house.

  “Mrs. Rose, I understand you were hiding in Deputy Anderson’s vehicle in front of the house. Is that correct?”

  Her wild gaze flitted from person to person. “I, that is, you had no business pulling me in here.” She straightened to her entire five foot, three inch height. “I suggest you explain your actions.”

  Dirk remained calm. Very impressive. I wanted to bang her head against the floor just for starters.

  “Mrs. Rose, could you tell us why you waited outside while a felony was in process?”

  “That’s none of your business. Release me immediately. I had nothing to do with any of this.” Her gesture included not only my living room mess but also held a hint of grandeur. Bitch.

  Dirk gestured to an older man. “Mac, read Mrs. Rose the Miranda and take her into custody.”

  I wasn’t sure Madeline heard the warning, voiced over her own squawks. Dirk must have had concerns too.

  “Matt, be sure to repeat the Miranda once she shuts up.”

  He nodded and led Madeline away, still loudly voicing her anger.

  Dirk ran his hand through his hair. “How are you?”

  He stopped short of touching me, though I’d moved out of reach when he’d gestured in my direction. I wouldn’t be forgiving and forgetting any time soon. His glance moved to Ginger.

  She answered for us both. “We’ll be fine. Thanks for arriving so quickly.”

  “We got lucky.” He addressed his remarks to Ginger. “When Anderson was spotted headed this way, we changed our plans. Good thing. The traffic is a bitch tonight. Your call wouldn’t have come soon enough, otherwise.”

  I wanted to tell him thanks, but my mouth refused to work. After an awkward pause, Dirk picked up the conversational lag.

  His lips quirked. “Did I really hear you yell the f-bomb?”

  Ginger’s cheeks pinked. “Guess I’ve been hanging out with Katie too long.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair.” I never used that word. Well, hardly ever.

  Dirk took Ginger’s hand in his own. “Thank you.” He added his other hand to the clasp, covering hers completely. “I can’t say enough.”

  They held the clasp and a deep look for several moments.

  “I’ve got to go. Criminals to process. Reports to write. Matt or I will call.”

  She nodded while I felt like an empty nail gun at a barn raising. Could my anger and hurt be misplaced?

  Naw. Dirk and Matt were partners. Ginger had apparently forgiven Matt, so that meant the three of them would be friends. Sure it’d be uncomfortable sometimes. I’d learn to live with my distress.

  Somehow.

  Chapter Seventeen

  More conscientious the day after my face-off with a murderer, I checked my peephole when I heard the knock at my new front door. Working in the construction industry came with perks, and my house repairs had been handled last night.

  A gorgeous set of green eyes with long lashes looked back at me. Dirk.

  I knew I should have stayed with Ginger.

  Another knock. “Katie, open up. I know you’re home.”

  Damn. The downside of dating a detective is the difficulty in getting away with anything.

  “What do you want?”

  I watched him through the peephole as he moved closer to the door. “You, Katie. I want to talk with you.”

  I debated for a moment. He shivered in the wind, so I relented. We’d have to face off sooner or later. Might as well make it now.

  I flipped off the chain and threw the deadbolt. Opening the door, I waved him in with a sardonic, “Entrez, monsieur.” I nudged the door shut, but it sounded more like a slam.

  We faced each other. I pushed down the heat that always rose when we stood so close.

  “Well, you’re in. You might as well sit down.” I turned and led the way into my living room. “Not that you should get comfortable. I doubt you’re staying long.”

  He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Katie, please.”

  I glanced at his paw, and he dropped it to his side.

  “Just give me five minutes, okay?”

  “I don’t know why I should. Wouldn’t you rather be with your new blonde girlfriend?”

  His forehead wrinkled.

  “You know, the new dispatcher?”

  “Daphne?” His forehead smoothed. “She’s engaged to one of my buddies from Charlotte. They met at work, moved in together, and knew she’d have to work for a different police force. We had an opening, and she’s experienced.”

  “So she’s not your new, um—”

  “No, she’s not the new love of my life. That’s you. Always.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You have a funny way of showing your devotion.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, will you let me explain? Without interruption?”

  His proximity had my vagina waving hello and calling, “Come on down.” Not good. My brain still had too many questions, and my heart, well, wasn’t mended. I knew I wouldn’t rest until I had the whole story, though.

  “Five minutes.” I glanced at my mantel clock. “Starting now.”

  We perched at opposite ends of the couch.

  “I can’t tell you everything, not yet. But I want you to understand why we had to split.”

  Now that I knew the blonde wasn’t in the running for the Dirk Johnson bed partner position, I decided to listen. “Okay.”

  Dirk rubbed the back of his neck. “Not to put too fine a point on this, but Katie, you can’t lie worth shit.”

  “True.” Everyone in town knew my sad prevarication skill level.

  “Matt and I knew we’d have to make a public break with you, and with Ginger, before witnesses. Otherwise the murderer may not believe we weren’t still together.”

  “So did you suspect someone inside the department? Or where you just not taking chances?”

  “No chances. Not with you.”

  I transferred my gaze to the tree lights across the room. “You acted frostier than Santa’s butt after a long sleigh ride. I thought you meant every glare and cold shoulder.”

  “I’d do it again to keep you safe.”

  “But you treated us all like murder suspects.”

  He cupped my jaw with his palm. “I know.”

  “You hurt me.”

  “I hurt us both.” He moved closer. “I’m sorry.” His lips were a millimeters from mine. “Forgive me?”

  I should have hesitated or prolonged his agony, but we’d been apart too long. Besides, playing games is not one of my strengths.

  “Yes.” I nibbled his lower lip. “But don’t ever make me wonder again.” I touched my tongue to his lips. “Instead, teach me how to lie. That’s a skill I can use.”

  “You’ve already got skills that make me lose my mind.” He sucked my tongue into his mouth.

  When he released me, I answered him. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Dirk pushed me into the soft couch cus
hions, moving to cover me with his hard length. He pushed his knee between mine.

  His hot mouth was mine to explore, and I checked every tooth for cavities, then enjoyed a tongue tango.

  I moaned when he pulled away.

  He rested on his forearms, his hands cupping my face. “Remember the phone sex?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Not as good as this.”

  “I’m gonna do all those things I promised you.” He planted an open-mouthed kiss on my neck. “Then I’m gonna improvise.”

  I moaned again, this time with anticipation. “Is that before or after we come for the first time?”

  “Before.” His mouth moved from my neck to suck my earlobe.

  “During.” One of his hands covered my breast, a finger circling my nipple.

  “After.” He plunged his tongue into my mouth, his hips moving against me.

  I arched my back and planted my hands on his tight ass. Sparing a fleeting thought for his very fine butt, I lost my thoughts completely when his hard dick rubbed me just right.

  Moving my hand between us, I unsnapped his jeans. The back of his hand met mine as we hastily pushed at our pants.

  No getting naked, not this time. We pushed our constraining clothes out of the way just enough for Dirk to enter me. He did, in one smooth push of his hips.

  Dirk—hard.

  Me—wet.

  I couldn’t conceive a better combination, that is, if I could think at the time. Which I couldn’t.

  With my pants somewhere around my knees, I couldn’t spread my legs or wrap them around Dirk’s waist. That constraint, and the pressure of my thighs against his balls, added a fine tension to our coupling.

  The heat built, and I strained to get closer, to pull him into my body deeper, tighter, longer.

  “Damn it. I’m not gonna last, Katie.”

  “I’m almost there. Harder, Dirk. Faster.”

  I love a man who listens.

  Before I’d finished telling him what I needed, we spiraled into orgasm.

  “Welcome home,” I said when I caught my breath.

  The sweet, thorough kiss he gave me was his answer.