Street Justice

by Holly S. Roberts

  I open the door and I’m greeted by her disgustingly bright smile. “I know you must be starving and you shouldn’t drink that beer on an empty stomach.”

  She ignites an appetite that has nothing to do with my stomach. My gaze travels from her green summery dress with bright flowers and a pale pink wispy scarf around her throat to the casserole dish in her hand. Daisy sits by her side, tongue lolling out, head cocked to the side. He’s eyeing my leg with relish. I give him my best don’t fuck with me look. “I’ll take the food,” I say. My stomach growls at the smell that floats into the house. “Daisy is not coming in,” I add and move back. I can’t take the dish with a gun in one hand and a beer in the other.

  “Nonsense. He’s well-behaved and you don’t own a cat.” Shelby walks over the threshold with Daisy heeling perfectly at her side. She looks around and I can see by her expression that she finds my private space lacking. Her nose curls a bit.

  “How the hell do you know I don’t own a cat?” I ask as I down a healthy swig of beer.

  “You’re just not the pussy…cat kind,” she replies straight faced.

  I almost spit out my beer. She did not just say that. She’s doing a poor job of holding back her grin and I can only shake my head. I holster my gun and place it back on the counter. Shelby follows and rests the dish on the same counter. “I won’t stay, this is all for you. If there are leftovers, you can eat them tomorrow. Any luck catching our guy?”

  Our guy. Since when did a killer become our guy? Shit, it’s been a bad fucking day and I’m about to do something I shouldn’t. “Sit down while I eat and I’ll fill you in. The mutt waits outside, though.”

  She laughs and ignores my order. “You’re disappointed Daisy’s not appreciating your leg. Heel, Daisy,” she says with another laugh and walks the dog to my couch. “Down.” He lies at her feet like a perfect gentleman.

  Damn her. I’m too tired to fight and have absolutely no willpower at all when I remove the lid from the warm dish. It smells heavenly. “Sure you don’t want any?” I ask tiredly as I grab a fork and remove the first bite straight from the dish.

  She shakes her head, watching me. I carry the casserole over to the couch along with my beer. “Sorry, shit,” I say as I sit down and then quickly stand back up. “A drink—beer, water, soda?”

  “I’m good. Eat. You must be starving and exhausted.”

  I sit and dig in. “Yes, I’m exhausted,” I manage to get out after three bites. “This is delicious.”

  “My uncle Pat thinks so too. Of course hell will freeze over before I make it for him again.”

  “He should have recused himself at the hearing this morning,” I grumble.

  “I’m sure he will for the next one. He was dishing out payback. My father hates my work downtown. My uncle is a little more accepting about my lifestyle but doesn’t let on around my father. Dear old Dad makes my life difficult whenever he can. I really am sorry you’re involved.”

  I continue eating without answering.

  Shelby crosses her legs and bounces her foot. I can’t take my eyes off her multi-colored toenails until she speaks, “If you want to pay them back, you could fuck me. That would do it.”

  I choke.

  No oxygen enters my lungs.

  I stand up and grab the beer from the coffee table, turning away while trying to gather air into my depleted chest. What the ever loving fuck?

  “Hmm, not the response I was hoping for. Does Daisy do it for you?”

  That makes me twist around. I’m arrested by the mischievous smile on her face. She’s beautiful and she knows it. My cock twitches like it seems to do every time she’s in the vicinity. I take another swig of beer.

  “No, Daisy doesn’t turn me on,” I answer when my breathing is semi-back to normal.

  “Other men?”

  “Christ, what’s your problem? I’m not gay and I’m not… not into—”

  She puts up her hand. “The dog part was a joke. Daisy was establishing dominance and you let him get away with it. Now that you’re top dog, he’ll leave you alone. It was just so funny to watch you whenever Daisy did his thing. It made you so uncomfortable and it was nice to see you lose a bit of that alpha control you have going all the time.”

  Her fingers curl in her hair and she moves one brown lock over her shoulder. Her light brown hair is long and curly. I can’t help wondering if it’s as soft as it looks. Yeah, I find it sexy as hell. I want her hair wrapped around my wrist while I hold her still and slide my cock home.

  I ignore my dick for the moment. “Now that I’m not in danger of asphyxiation, what about sex would upset your dad and uncle? I know you’re of age.”

  She shrugs. “I doubt my uncle would care, but my father is a different beast. I’m a Ryan and that means I’ll marry within my station or some such crap.” At my look of bewilderment, she continues. “You know, the Ryan Empire of hotels?”

  Well, okay. “So why do you live here?” I hold up my hand and point out the white walls of the duplex.

  “Because it pisses my parents off. I don’t come into my full inheritance until I’m thirty and my father thought he could control me. The trust paid for college and everyone thought I’d finish my master’s, but I decided to take a break from school. That didn’t go over with Daddy Dearest and he threatened to stop all support. As long as I’m in school, my trust fund pays a monthly stipend. No school, I get squat and Daddy Dearest holds the reins or at least he thought he did. I found a job to cover the rent on my side of the duplex and I love my volunteer work for the HHW. As to fucking you—they wouldn’t think you’re in my league.” Her eyes hold mine. “Maybe that’s why you get my feminine juices flowing.”

  I’m not usually uncomfortable with women, but whenever I’m around Shelby I don’t know if I’m coming or going. If it isn’t her damn mutt, it’s the unexpected shit that rolls out of her mouth. A very nice mouth. Nice full lips that would only look better with my cock sliding in and out.

  Shit. I’m too tired for this.

  Shelby gives me a sympathetic look. “How about we put fucking on the back burner so you can get some rest.” She rises from the couch and walks to my refrigerator like she owns the place. I don’t let my irritation show because she grabs another beer, removes the top, and places it in front of me. “I have an early meeting in the morning, so I’ll send you a text.” She leans over and places a gentle kiss on my lips. She backs two inches away while our eyes remain locked. Her hand comes up and she pats my cheek. “I’m glad to know you’re not into men.” She moves away. “Come on, Daisy. I’ll give you a cookie for being so good and not humping the big bad detective’s leg.”

  She leaves me sitting on the couch with a boner. The shower I take is little help; my stiff cock is back as soon as I climb into bed and close my eyes. Fuck, I want to taste her and not just a peck of a kiss. Shelby Ryan needs an alpha male to take her in hand. Anyone else and she would eat them alive.

  Chapter Five

  ANOTHER DAY OF NOTHING. I hit the street and talked to every hooker I came across. There’s fear in their eyes. The local news stations released the story at noon. I hoped it would get the women talking, but they tell me little. I even had a sit-down with a sergeant in vice. The asshole didn’t approve of laying off the hookers for a short time so they wouldn’t be afraid to talk to me. I don’t have sergeant stripes, so all I could do was pass it to my supervisor so he could deal with Sergeant Dickhead’s supervisor.

  I don’t have a working partner at the moment because of our two-year hiring freeze, so I head to the ME’s office to speak with Kurtis. He has a level head, keeps his mouth shut, and works a lot of high-profile homicides.

  He’s walking out of the autopsy room when I open the outer door. His bloody gloves go into the hazard bin after he removes his goggles. “Hey, Linc, let me scrub and I’ll meet you in the break room.”

  “Deal. I’m in need of your spidey senses.” This gains me a laugh. I head to the break room wondering if I co
uld laugh if I cut into dead bodies all day.

  Kurtis walks in a few minutes later carrying two Styrofoam cups with steam wafting from the tops. He rests one in front of me. We’ve done this enough that he knows I like my coffee strong and black. The ME’s office is known for their black tar and it’s another reason to hold this meeting here. I take a sip and burn my tongue. Perfect.

  “So what brings you over to the dead side?” he asks after taking a swallow of his coffee.

  I stand up and push my chair back so I can pace. I do my best thinking this way. The room is exactly eleven steps each way. I’ve paced in here enough times I’m surprised I haven’t worn a path.

  “I’ve got nothing,” I lead with. “Prostitutes aren’t talking, they’re scared, their pimps don’t give a shit, and soon I’ll have another body to deal with. The media is on our side right now, but add another murder or two and they won’t be.”

  Kurtis’ steady gaze follows me. “So, what do we know?” he asks. “He uses an extremely sharp knife similar to a hunting knife. He stabs five times and slices twice. He does some of the cutting while they’re alive and some postmortem. He uses ketamine so they’re aware of what’s happening when he sexually assaults them. He wants the women to know what he’s doing. This tells us their profession doesn’t turn him off sexually. If anything, it excites him.”

  I turn and head back the other direction. “You have more than I do,” I say while staring at the wall ahead. “These women are seen safe and sound at their stomping ground, go home, and then disappear. Chances are good he may not be approaching them as a john.”

  “I guarantee you he’s stalking them in one fashion or another. Do the women live near each other?”

  I meet Kurtis’ gaze while continuing my walk. “No, they’re miles apart. I’ve talked to neighbors and no one’s seen these women with anyone out of the ordinary.”

  Kurtis’ laugh is loud in the small room. “You think this guy looks scary or abnormal. You know better than that. He’s the guy next door, the pizza delivery man, the mailman. He may give off a bad vibe but chances are he looks normal. White, between the age of thirty and fifty, blah blah, blah.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “You’re right, he’s the perfect citizen. That’s the scary part.”

  “You also know he’s done this before somewhere else. You don’t start out this methodical.”

  I reach the far end of the room and turn. “I need to check other cities for look-alikes.”

  “That’s a good place to start.”

  I know all this but talking it through helps realign my weary brain. “I’ll run what we have through UCI and see if I get any hits.”

  “You look tired, you sleeping?”

  My sigh is heavy. “I wish. Long days with little help available at the PD. We’re understaffed. Hell, we’re always understaffed. I should be accustomed to it by now.” I don’t tell him I wake up seeing pictures of these women’s bodies in my head. I especially don’t tell him that in order to fall back to sleep, I purposely change the pictures to my alive, sexy, and irritating next door neighbor. A training I took a few years ago offered ways to cope with stress-induced insomnia. I have a feeling they didn’t mean I need to slowly undress Shelby in my head but it relaxes me. Leaves my dick hard and aching too.

  “When was your last day off?”

  Kurtis might work on dead bodies but he’s still a doctor. Sadly I need to think about the day-off question. “Four weeks,” I finally answer.

  He whistles. “You’re going to fall down on the job.” He looks at the clock on the wall. “Go home and get some rest. Start tomorrow fresh and do what you’re known for.”

  Solve homicides. I’m good at it, so why are these two getting me down? Usually adrenaline keeps me going. My brother Calvin is with the FBI and I should call him. Cops don’t like the Fibs coming in and taking over. I won’t like it if that’s what happens. This could turn too big for me fast and I know it. I asked my supervisor for two uniformed officers to handle knock and talks. I did the first round of them myself. If I do this right, it needs to be done again a week later. My supervisor couldn’t spare the men. I could see by his expression he wasn’t happy about turning down my request, so I didn’t ask what happens when the next body shows up.

  Kurtis is right—it’s time to go home and relax. I need a fresh perspective. My thoughts travel to Shelby and her tight little ass. I need to get laid.

  Chapter Six

  I SCAN MY PHONE contacts looking for a badge bunny. I’m sitting on my couch with my feet kicked up on the coffee table, beer resting on the table within reach. It’s a little after five in the evening and I’ve been home for an hour. This is what my life’s come to. I want a steady relationship and my next door neighbor has me so horny I’m sinking just about as low as I can go. My conviction to settle down and have the two point four children is out the window. I need to get my rocks off.

  I glance down at a name that catches my attention. I haven’t spoken to Candy in a long time; like her name suggests, she’s usually up for a hot night between the sheets. My finger moves over her number. A steady knock starts on my front door. Shit. I know it’s Shelby even before I check outside.

  She’s standing with Daisy.

  I open the door and the full effect of what she’s wearing hits me. Skimpy skin-tight black running shorts and sports bra. The colorful head visor is the only sign of her quirky personality. With her body, she could pose in an athletic magazine if she chose to.

  “Daisy and I are going for a run and thought you might want to join us.”

  I haven’t run in a month. “Sure,” I say before thinking twice about it. No sex but this will work off my frustration and I’ll feel better about myself in the morning. God, do I ever sound old. “Let me change.” I step back and she steps inside with Daisy. I give the dog the stink eye and head to my room. I’m out in less than five minutes and ready to go in a pair of loose-hanging comfortable shorts and my running shoes.

  Shelby’s eyes travel down my chest slowly. My dick twitches and I’m well aware we need to begin or I’ll embarrass myself. “Can you keep up, honey?” I walk outside, close the door behind her, and take off down the paved walkway before turning onto the main sidewalk. Shelby’s laugh sounds behind me.

  “Why is ‘honey’ always an insult when you say it?”

  “That’s your imagination,” I tell her as I move into the road so she can run beside me. Daisy keeps easy pace with us.

  I watch Daisy from the corner of my eye—tongue hanging out, tail wagging. “What kind of dog is he?” I ask because I can’t take it anymore.

  “He’s a shepadoodle.”

  I glance her way in surprise. “A what?”

  “German shepherd standard poodle mix,” she replies with a straight face. “They’re in very high demand.”

  “For crazy people,” I mutter.

  “My family will tell you I’m crazy. What of it? We all need a bit of insanity in our lives. People shouldn’t live in a sterile box like you do.”

  “I happen to like my sterile box.” I do. Unlike Shelby, my dirty clothes never hit the floor. I don’t have cuckoo clocks. My place is easy to keep clean and there’s very little to dust.

  “So, what about a girlfriend? Do you have one?” She’s good at changing the subject and catching me off guard.

  “Nope,” I reply.

  “You’re not gay, you’re not interested in Daisy, and you don’t have a girlfriend. What gives?” Her breathing remains even and I realize she must run on a regular basis. I did once. This past year it’s been sporadic.

  “What exactly are you asking?”

  She picks up her pace just to be mean and continues in the same vein. “I’m not gay. I don’t have a boyfriend. I love Daisy but not in that way, so I’m wondering why you’ve never hit on me.”

  She has no idea the fantasies I have about her. “You’re the happy ever after type. I’m the love ’em and leave ’em type,” I lie. “It�
��s best to stay neighbors without benefits.”

  “Well, buster—”

  “Who the hell says buster?” I interrupt.

  “If I’m honey, you get to be buster. What I was going to say is that I’m the love ’em and leave ’em type too. I decided this right after my last breakup.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Six weeks and two days but who’s counting?” She flips her ponytail over her shoulder and the damn bushy thing hits me in the face.

  I know the guy she’s talking about. He was a son of a bitch. I heard him yelling at her once and almost went over and kicked his ass. “How many men have there been in the past six weeks and two days?”

  Her long legs have no problem eating up the slight hill we’ve reached. “You’ll be the first. I figure it’s a great time to start my new philosophy.”

  Doesn’t matter that I’m running, my cock is gathering steam and things are about to become uncomfortable. “We barely know each other,” I grumble to keep from moaning.

  “That makes it better, don’t you think?”

  “I think you have sex on the brain.” Her laughter makes the ache in my balls worse.

  “What’s there to know?” she pushes. “We have all the right parts that fit into all the right slots. It’s a win-win. You work long hours and need someone to make you dinner every now and then. I enjoy cooking and I have an itch that needs scratching.”

  She makes it sound so simple, so why am I holding back? “What if I’ve decided to change my ways and settle down?” I give her a side sweep to see if she reacts. Our eyes meet and it’s hard to tell what she’s thinking. I’m good at reading people, it’s part of my job. Shelby turns away and finds something interesting in the yard we pass before I can gather enough intel on her thoughts.

  “That would be a deal-breaker,” she finally replies. “Been there, done that, tore my heart out, and bleached the T-shirt. I’m looking for a hookup that’s more than a one-night stand but less than dating.”