The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

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The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide Page 24

by Nina Bruhns


  Charlie hesitated. “Yeah, I saw her gun, but….”

  “Lieutenant, listen up. Call dispatch. Put out an APB. Stop her now. That’s an order, Lt. Rockford. If she resists, arrest her.”

  Red Rock Rises: Chapter Three

  “Okay, Wolf. I’ve got her. She resisted so I arrested her. Now what the hell do I do with her?”

  With an effort, Dameon controlled his anger. “How many times have you arrested someone, Lieutenant? Book her.”

  Charlie’s voice was incredulous. “Christ, man, for what?”

  “Let’s see, Lieutenant, where should I start? For pulling a gun in a crowded ballroom? For disobeying a direct order from the Police Chief? For resisting arrest? Or, I’ve got it. How about booking her for her real crime—possession of illegal drugs.”

  “Are you serious, Wolf? Christ, man, that’s a felony with certain prison time.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant, for telling me something I may not have known.”

  “Yeah, but, Wolf--suspected of transporting drugs? You know what that means. What that entails. A strip search at the very least--”

  Dameon cut him off.

  “Yes, Charlie, I do know what that means. But I have a feeling it won’t be the first time for her. When you get her sheet I’m sure we’ll see she’s been in this spot before.”

  * * *

  Inside the interrogation room, Jesse fought to control her emotions. Huddling in the orange jumpsuit the matron had given her she replayed the horror of the last hour. She knew she was wrong to leave the Country Club, but she also knew there’d be too many questions she didn’t want to answer. Plus her primary duty was to get Raoul away safely. Hopefully if anyone saw them, they’d think he was with her and come after her, not him. Which was in fact what had happened. The upshot was that she’d been booked for a felony and was looking at one night in jail--at the very least.

  Jesse’d never been through the indignity of a strip search. She hadn’t believed the matron when the grim woman ordered her to take off her clothes and bend over. When Jesse protested, the woman, Francesca, had replied, “I’m sorry I have to do this. I can see that you’re upset. And I gotta admit you don’t look like the usual mule I search. But the Chief ordered that we thoroughly search you for illegal drugs.”

  Outrage flared in Jesse’s gut. Of course the arrogant fucker had ordered her searched. If nothing else, to humiliate her. Jesse gave him credit. He’d succeeded. She wasn’t only humiliated, she was terrified. She was also hurt.

  Jesse refused to let the matron examine her wounds. Instead, she’d pushed her away with a curt warning.

  “Unless I’m mistaken, you were ordered to do a cavity search--which you’ve done. Now leave me alone.”

  She’d called her lawyer. Other than her son and ex-husband and of course her erstwhile client, Raoul, Eric Grant was the only other person she knew in this godforsaken town. Unfortunately, she’d gotten his voicemail. No telling when he would get her frantic message. And no telling what would happen to her in the meantime.

  At the knock on the door, Jesse looked up to see Lt. Rockford, the officer who’d arrested her, standing in the doorway. To her surprise, he was carrying her clothes and had a distinctly sheepish look on his face.

  “I’m… I’m sorry ma’am… about tonight. You’re free to go.”

  Her surprise quickly changed to anger. “What happened? Did your fucking Chief of Police decide he’d had enough fun for the evening?”

  Rockford flushed uncomfortably. “No, ma’am. But your lawyer, a high level guy in this community, just sprung you, bailed you out.”

  Jesse snatched the bundle of clothing and hurriedly stripped off her orange jumpsuit. Ignoring his shocked expression and that of the men she was sure were peering in the one-way mirror, she stood dressed only in her bra, thong and thigh high silk stockings. She yanked her ripped dress over her head and smoothed it over her hips giving a muffled cry when it hit her wounded areas. Grabbing her shoes, she saw to her dismay that one of the heels on the expensive trappings was broken. With an angry sigh she took them off and strode past the line of gaping officers in her stocking feet, her shoes clutched to her chest.

  Lt. Rockford called after her.

  “Ma’am, please wait! Let me call you a cab or one of us will take you home.”

  “That’s not necessary. I have my car unless the Police Chief had it impounded for evidence of high crimes and misdemeanors.”

  “Uh, no, ma’am, he didn’t. Your car is in the lot and your keys are in that bag. But, ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like you’re in any condition to drive.”

  Jesse could only imagine what she looked like. Her hair was hanging in a tangled mess around her shoulders. She knew her mascara had to be running down her face, evidence of the tears she couldn’t hold back. And her fucking $1,500 dress and $1,200 shoes were ruined! Striving for control, she turned on the solicitous officer who was regarding her with concern.

  “Let’s allow me to be the judge of that, Lieutenant Rockford. Now if you don’t mind, get the hell out of my way.”

  * * *

  Dameon had seen Rocky’s stream of messages but hadn’t had time to listen to them. Hell, he was dealing with a panicked crowd and at least one dead gunman. He didn’t give a flying fuck how much trouble the redhead was giving his team. Let her stew for a while. He’d go down to the jail and see her when he was good and ready. They’d be having a different kind of conversation than they’d had earlier this evening--that was for damn sure. He gave a satisfied grunt. We’ll see how haughty she is now….

  Finally he had a break and answered the latest buzz. Rocky’s voice was taut.

  “Christ, Wolf. I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour. Obviously you haven’t been getting my messages--”

  “Uh, no, Charlie. I’ve been a little busy here. What’s the matter? She putting up a fight?”

  Charlie replied in a flat tone. “She’s not here.”

  “What the hell do you mean she’s not there? Goddammit. Did you book her like I told you too?”

  “Yeah, Wolf. I arrested her, and I booked her….Wolf, check your phone, man. I sent you her sheet. I’m tellin’ you, bro. You need to see her sheet.”

  Dameon pulled up her sheet expecting to see a long list of arrests, everything from possession to dealing to prostitution. He both expected and dreaded seeing her record in black and white--after all, there was a thing or two he liked about Raoul’s moll. When the sheet came up a double sucker punch to his gut couldn’t have shocked him more. For several long moments he stared at the detailed sheet--speechless. Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out and uttered the most appropriate response. “Fuck.”

  Charlie’s voice echoed in his com. “Yeah, Wolf, that’s an understatement. In case it’s hard to see it all on your phone, let me give you the highlights. You’re looking at Retired Major Jesse Elizabeth O’Donnell, highly decorated U. S. Army veteran who served in Afghanistan and Iraq, with a stint in Korea, Somalia… hell, you name it. And currently the owner of L.O.T.N. Protective Services Agency, whatever the hell that is….”

  “What the fuck?” Dameon struggled to make sense of the information and the clanging alarms ringing in his ears. “I’ll be right down.”

  “Save it, Wolf. I told you. She’s gone.”

  “What do you mean she’s gone? Where? How?”

  “Yeah, well, Raoul and your lawyer friend, Eric Grant, bailed her out. Seems she’s got friends in high places. By the way, Wolf, I know this is a shock but I gotta tell you, she was really upset. Francesca said she was practically in tears during the search. She didn’t look good when she left. She insisted on driving herself home--”

  Dameon broke in. “Follow her. Make sure she gets home safe.”

  Charlie’s voice was strained. “Okay, Wolf. I’m on it. But, man, I don’t want to lay any more on you but Francesca also said she’s been hurt. She wouldn’t let Francesca help her.”

  Dameo
n grabbed a harsh breath and repeated his order.

  “Go after her. Make sure she’s okay. Keep me posted.”

  He clicked off the connection then took several minutes to digest the impressive background of one very beautiful, and no doubt very angry, redhead.

  * * *

  Moments later Charlie called back over the police transmitter.

  “Uh, um, Wolf? She picked up my tail and stopped right in the middle of the road. She’s now marching back here at about fifty miles an hour. I wanna tell you, man, your grand pappy was right about redheads. Damn. That is one pissed off woman.”

  Dameon heard the sounds of what seemed to be a struggle and then heard Jesse’s angry voice over the com.

  “Who are you taking to, Lieutenant Rockford?”

  “Um, ah, Ma’am. You can’t touch that. It’s police equipment--”

  “Shut the fuck up, Officer. Give me that goddamn speaker.”

  Dameon couldn’t help grinning envisioning the scene on the side of the road. He stifled a chuckle as Jesse’s enraged shout rang out.

  “I said… Give. It. To. Me!” After a moment, her angry voice came over the speaker. “Who is this?”

  Dameon let the silence settle for a moment then spoke quietly. “May I presume that this is Major O’Donnell? We met earlier this evening. In the event you don’t recognize my voice; this is Dameon Macarios.”

  She shrieked. “YOU! You arrogant asshole! You listen to me. So help me, God. You think you can get away with this? Arresting me? Harassing me? Sending someone to follow me? You… you son of a bitch! I don’t care how many judges you’ve bought off… how many dirty lawyers and cops you have in your back pocket.” Her voice rose several decibels. “I swear to God… I’ve got connections, too. And don’t think….”

  To Dameon’s surprise her voice broke in the middle of her tirade, collapsing into what sounded like a sob. There was a series of crashing sounds and then the line went dead.

  Dameon called back on Charlie’s cell phone. “Now what the hell was that, Lieutenant?”

  Charlie gave an audible sigh. “Well, Chief, let’s just say we’ve got at least one police receiver that’s gonna need to be replaced. To put it succinctly, our very upset Major ripped off the receiver, threw it on the ground, stomped on it and marched in her stocking feet back to her car.” He paused. “I gotta tell you, Wolf. That is one upset lady. Now she… she’s just sitting in her car. Damn, I think she’s crying. Okay, now she’s driving.” Charlie continued his blow by blow without interruption from Dameon. “I looked her up while I was following her and got some background stats. I think she has a kid in the house, Wolf. A teenager.”

  “Damn. How much worse can this get?”

  “You said it. Okay. She’s going in the house now. She’s carrying her shoes. She looks pretty beat up, man.”

  Dameon gave a heartfelt sigh.

  “Ahh, Christ. What a cluster fuck!”

  Charlie’s confirming sigh drifted over the ether.

  Red Rock Rises: Chapter Four

  Jesse jerked up in bed at the rumble of voices. She glanced at the clock, her befuddled brain struggling to deal with the unexpected sounds. Ten minutes ago she’d said good-bye to Trey and crept back to bed praying that she could sleep--which she’d been unable to do throughout the night. Now, she jumped from the bed wide awake. Something was wrong. She’d already told Trey to hurry so that he wouldn’t miss the school bus. Her highly trained reflexes kicked in. Seconds later she was at the top of the stairs, her Walther in her hand, the safety off ready to fire. Her breath stuck in her throat remembering the image of the shooters rushing into the ballroom last night. Jesus God, had they found out where she lived? Had she brought that hideous danger into her home? Her home and her son’s?

  Creeping down the stairs, her pistol clutched in both hands in front of herself, she heard Trey’s voice. Turning the corner, blood lust on her brain, she almost fainted when she saw Dameon Macarios standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her kitchen, talking with her son.

  The tall, dark-haired man filled the doorway with his presence, commanding the space as if he belonged there. He gave her a once over. His quick grin reminded her of her tousled hair and shorty pajamas. She could only imagine what she looked like. At the most she’d had thirty minutes of sleep. She’d spent most of the night pounding her pillow in fury, and the rest of it burying her head under the covers trying to blot out the horrible night. Her momentary embarrassment fled when she acknowledged that this loathsome man, the cause of her hideous night was casually standing in her kitchen at 7:05 in the morning.

  She jerked back letting her gun slide down against her leg, and glared at him. She was glad her voice was strong given that her knees felt like rubber at the sight of him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Trey jumped forward, reaching out to her, his face tight with concern.

  “No, Mom. It’s okay. You don’t understand. This… this man is Police Chief Macarios… he came to our school and talked to us about drugs and stuff….”

  Jesse waved off her son with her free hand and continued to glare at Dameon.

  “I know who the asshole is.” Speaking directly to Dameon she added, “Get the fuck out of my house!”

  Trey was clearly horrified. “Mom! It’s… not--”

  Dameon broke in.

  “It’s okay, Trey. Your mother and I had a disagreement last night. I came to apologize to her.” Taking a careful step toward Jesse, he held her gaze. His voice was casual, professional.

  “Tell you what, Major. If you put that gun down on the counter, I’ll put this peace offering I brought down on the table.” When she didn’t answer, he smiled and gestured to the cardboard tray he was holding. “How about it? Is that a fair exchange? Your gun for a Vente Skinny Caramel Latte, Extra Hot, No Foam and a cranberry orange scone? Is that a good trade for a gun?”

  Leaning over, without taking his gaze off of her, he carefully placed the tray on the kitchen table. On one level Jesse knew that Macarios thought he was trying to reason with a distraught woman holding a loaded gun, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to be reasonable, rational. Of course she was distraught. What the fuck did he expect? Something in her face must have warned him because his expression hardened.

  He held up his hands and motioned to her with a jerk of his head.

  “On the counter. NOW.”

  Jesse hesitated in reflexive protest and then slapped her gun on the counter, glaring at him.

  She motioned to her son. “Trey, come over here by me.” Whirling back to face Dameon, she shot out, “And you! Go! Now!”

  Dameon glanced at his watch. As if she hadn’t spoken he turned to Trey.

  “Trey, it’s ten after seven. You’re going to miss that bus if you don’t leave now. You know Sally Hermosa doesn’t wait for anyone.” His voice was comforting. “It’s okay, son. I’ve got your mother covered. She’s fine. I’ll take care of her.”

  Jesse audibly gasped, shocked at his outrageous assertion. Only the pained look on Trey’s face kept her from screaming at Macarios to leave now.

  Glancing from his mother to Dameon, Trey wavered. Obviously upset, his lip trembled.

  Tears hovering on his thick dark lashes, he appealed to the big man.

  “You don’t understand, Sir.” His voice cracked. “My mom…. She’s been hurt. I’ve been trying to get her to go to the emergency room. But she won’t go. I… I don’t want to leave her here….”

  Jesse’s protest died in her throat when Dameon frowned at her and held up his hand. Turning back to Trey, he was calm, assertive.

  “That makes it even more imperative that you go, Trey. Look, Son, I’ll make sure your mother gets to a hospital if she needs to go. And, I’ll take care of her injuries if they’re not serious. That’s what I’m trained to do, just like your mother is. But when you’re the one who’s hurt,” he added, gesturing toward Jesse, “you’re not as good at diagnosing your injuri
es. I’ll take care of her, Trey. I promise you that.” When the young boy wavered, Dameon added, “Who’s your homeroom teacher? Mr. Salazar? Good. As soon as I take a look at your mother’s injuries, I’ll leave a message for you. But for now, Son, how about you hightail it out of here and make sure you catch that bus?”

  Trey looked at his mother, uncertainty clouding his expression. Swallowing her anger as best she could, Jesse pressed her lips together. She knew how upset Trey was that she’d been hurt and needed to reassure him. She’d deal with Chief Asshole later. “Go, Trey. I’m fine. You don’t want to be late. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take care of him!”

  After the door closed, Jesse whirled back to Dameon.

  “Now that you’ve terrified my son, GO. Get out of my house. NOW!”

  Dameon moved toward her.

  “I’m gonna ask you one time. Is there a safety on that gun? With a kid in the house--”

  Jesse’s voice shook with rage. She was livid.

  “You pretentious fucking asshole.”

  His lip quirked up.

  “We’ve already established that.”

  Jesse placed her hands on her hips to keep from attacking him. She was shaking with anger.

  “You accuse me of being so irresponsible that I don’t know enough to keep a safety on my gun when I have a teenage boy in the house? You overbearing--”

  He put up his hand, stopping her in mid-sentence, and took another step toward her. He was now a few scant feet away.

  “Okay. I’ve got that. You can forget the litany.”

  He eyed her, his expression was stern. “Before we go any further, let’s get a few things straight, Major. First, I’m gonna take that gun. Second, I’m going to check you over and see if your son is right. Decide if you need to go to the hospital.”

  His eyes lightened and his lip quirked up at the corner.

  “Third, and most important, I’m going to apologize for what happened last night and try to get you to accept my apology. Maybe we can even sit down and have a cup of coffee together.”

 

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