Gravedigger (The Rayburn Mysteries Book 1)

by Ceeree Fields

  She’d lost count with all her relatives setting her up, but this one had to be the absolute worst. Even the mid-grade drug dealer had been better than this one; she’d gotten to not only pull her gun and make an arrest, she’d enjoyed some damned fine BBQ as well.

  Forcing herself to finish her drink, she laid out her options. A grin tugged at her lips.

  Oh, that one will do nicely. I’ll get a beer and be able to end the evening with friends. Wins all around for me.

  “So, a ménage, huh?” Jo did her best to come across as sultry; unsure if she succeeded or not.

  “Shocked ya’?” Tony’s cheeks reddened and his dark eyes that hinted at his Italian ancestry glazed with lust. “I know a proper church person like me shouldn’t want something like that, but I feel a connection with you.” Slender fingers made contact with Jo’s sleeve-covered arm. She shivered.

  Definitely burning the clothes after this date.

  “Meh, everyone has a dream.” Jo gathered her discarded hamburger wrapper and empty fry carton and set them onto the tray in the middle of the small table. “Want to try something new?”

  The corners of Tony’s eyes crinkled, and he nodded. His look of glee, mixed with anticipation, rolled Jo’s stomach.

  Clapping her hands, she shoved to her feet. “Then let’s go.”

  He stood and headed for the door, leaving his mess strewn across the table. Growling, Jo turned toward the register and pulled a few bills from her back pocket.

  Happy now she hadn’t dressed up for this damned fiasco. Instead, she’d opted for her usual turtleneck, bootcut pants with her dressy pair of boots, all in black of course. Her back up holster nestled comfortingly around her ankle, and yep, the pretty little .22 cradled in her holster had a black matte finish.

  Holding up a ten, she tipped her chin to their table and the girl manning the register nodded. Mouthing ‘thanks’, Jo left the bill on the table and followed Tony out of the fast food restaurant.

  Tony’s car creaked and groaned its protest when she opened the passenger side door. She couldn’t tell what make of car it came into the world as, but it definitely fell under the POS category. It was a mix of rust and multi-hued blue paint and dull gray body. The hatchback’s doors were two different colors, one silver and one light-green. For a doctor to be driving this . . . Jo’s gaze went back to Tony, no way was he thirty-four. Maybe her mother had misheard his age. Or maybe she was being judgmental since he’d just moved to town to take care of his mother.

  “Where to, me lady?” Tony’s snorting laugh grated on Jo’s last nerve. He definitely didn’t act thirty-four, more like fifteen.

  “Downtown. I’ll tell you where to go when we hit First Avenue.”

  “Oh, this should be good. I’ll feel more than safe with a cop as my escort.”

  Jo curled her fingers into her palms and dug in her nails, the pain helping to keep her from hitting him.

  Fifteen minutes later they pulled up to their destination.

  Tony craned his head to the side. “Will’s Watering Hole? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “It’d surprise me if you had. Come on.” Jo stepped from the car, her tension beginning to leave her shoulders the closer she moved to the entrance. Somewhere inside was her partner and her friends hanging out and playing pool. By now the tournament would have ended, but they’d have stuck around for a few hours.

  A hand curving around her hip almost had her elbowing Tony in the stomach, but she held herself under tight control. She quickly passed the cover charge to the massive bouncer and slipped inside. Several people greeted her since she and her friends came here a few times a month to play on their tables. Waving, she let her gaze drift until she landed on the one person who would play along with her. With Sam in her crosshairs, she took Tony’s hand.

  Tossing a smile over her shoulder, Jo led him to where Sam talked to the bartender. She nudged into the larger man’s side. Sam caught sight of her, grinned, and threw an arm across her shoulders.

  “Sammy, hey!” Jo greeted over an obnoxious piece of music blaring from the jukebox in the far corner.

  “Hey, Jojo.” His eyes drifted behind her, widened briefly before narrowing. “I’m Sam and you are?”

  “Jo’s date, Tony.” Tony’s gaze never moved from the dance floor.

  Jo knew Tony was scoping out possibilities for their wild night, and she struggled not to chuckle. The bar was an eclectic mix of blue-collar workers and college students dancing on the wild side. ‘The Hole’ as the regulars called it, was a few steps up from a dive bar and well off the beaten path. Unless you played in the pool tournaments, then you knew the dive-bar well as they had the standard competition tables.

  Twisting to see the person that had garnered Tony’s undivided attention, Jo shook her head. Of course, it was the group of college girls in the corner. They were all pretty in their own right, but too young for Tony. Laughter and giggles drew many a male eye to that corner as the group danced together, not paying any attention to anyone else in the place.

  Jo’s gaze shifted behind the bar, finding Charlie, the owner. She released a sigh of relief. In his late fifties, the man ruled The Hole with an iron fist and wouldn’t let anything happen to those girls. Including having Tony drool all over the college girls’ shoes.

  Deciding the time had come to nip this date in the ass, Jo grinned widely to Sam and waggled her brows. “Sam, Tony here wants a ménage—”

  Tony’s attention jerked to her with a gape-jawed expression taking over his face. “Wait . . . What?”

  Bless her friend, Sam didn’t miss a beat.

  “Oh, Abe and I love fresh meat.” He fell right into the role as he circled around her and wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist. “And Jo loves to watch.”

  “I sure do.” She nodded for emphasis, doing her best not to cackle with glee at the absolute panic that rolled from her date.

  Tony’s gaze bounced from Sam to her, and back again while he took a careful step away from Sam. “B-but I meant two women—”

  Wrinkling her brow in confusion, she shook her head. “Why the hell would I want to watch another woman? I am a woman. Blech. Now two men . . . total hotness and three would be yummy.”

  She struggled to keep the malicious amusement from her face as Tony held his hands up, palms toward Jo. “You know, maybe this won’t work after—”

  Jo leaned forward to grab one of Tony’s hands, deliberately missing. “But Tony, you didn’t specify what partners you wanted in the ménage. You said we had a connection—”

  “No, no. Umm . . . It’s getting late. I need to head home and check on Mom. It was fun, but I think we’ll be better off as uh—friends.” Tony backed steadily to the door, then turned and fled.

  “Damn, Jo. That one left faster than the last.” Sam swung a heavy arm around her shoulders again.

  “Yep, can’t find a man that’s willing to explore all his sides anymore,” she stated, then burst into laughter.

  Sam grabbed the beers he’d ordered and tipped his chin toward the back. “Come on, hon, Icky’s in the back wiping the floor with the youngsters.”

  Jo followed Sam through the bar to the pool tables. Luckily, the dance floor and general hangout area were in the front near the bar. While the pool tables were grouped together in the larger backroom which ran the length of the building. With the competition now over, her friends had spread out among the pool tables. Spectators hovering to cheer on the various players that’d stayed behind to knock around some balls for fun.

  Sam wove between the people to the corner, handing out the beers he’d grabbed from the bartender along the way until there were only two in his hand. Reaching his destination, Sam gave his wife her beer and stepped closer to the woman. Just breathing her in.

  Jo froze. That was what she wanted.
A connection like Sam and Terry, one that lasted through rough times. The couple had faced a lot of challenges but had stuck it out for over fifteen years. Since their first meeting in high school, they’d been inseparable. Back then, Terry wanted to be in law enforcement and Sam wanted to teach social studies and football. Both supported each other in achieving their dreams.

  In the early days, being a woman on the force had been rough. Most in the departments were asswipes toward Terry. Jo understood, because she still got flack working with the smaller jurisdictions. But Terry had gone through it a lot longer than Jo, being that she was ten years older.

  Sam nuzzled into his wife’s temple and whispered in her ear. The smile that spread across Terry’s face as she turned toward her was warm and filled with amusement.

  Jo was lucky to have the two in her life. That Sam was willing to help her get rid of douches, and that Terry never begrudged her the loan of Sam when he was needed. Yep, lucky.

  Just as she settled onto a nearby stool to watch her partner wipe the floor with the competition, her breath caught at the sight before her.

  What’s Rhys Harrison doing here?

  Curiosity plagued her after the scene at the cemetery, one of Jo’s many flaws. Finally, giving in she’d looked up the handsome man only to delete the file before ever opening it. It’d hit her as the mouse hovered over the ‘Open’ option, she’d hate if someone pried into her private life like this. Hated they’d do it on a whim, just to satisfy their own burning need for answers. Jo would not be one of those people.

  His long body bent over the pool table, the crisp black pants he wore pulled taut over a nice ass. Lining up the shot he wanted, the muscles in his back flexed under the long-sleeved shirt he wore. Deftly handling the cue stick, he made his shot with a confidence that surprised her. The smack of the cue ball bouncing against another ball, then the rattle as it fell neatly into the pocket was all on Jo’s periphery.

  Never would she have expected to see someone like him in a bar, especially one on the seedy side like Will’s Watering Hole. Instead, with his pressed clothes, smart glasses, and high intelligence, she saw him more in a library studying some arcane tome or teaching at a university, a tweed jacket covering his emerald shirt. But he was here.

  His elegant fingers lifted a bottle of beer to his lips, his corded neck working as he drank it. He stuck out, with his clothing and bearing but somehow managed to fit in as well. Jo’s friends teased him. He seemed to give as good as he got based on the laughter and quick bursts of voices.

  A nudge at her shoulder and quiet snicker abruptly jerked her from her perusal. Turning, Jo grinned.

  “Here, Jo.” Marcy handed Jo her regular order of beer.

  “Thanks, Marcy.”

  Marcy’s head tipped as she lifted her serving tray higher to pass between the grouping of people toward the tables on the far side. Her tight jeans and white shirt, that left little to the imagination, drew many of the men’s attention as she bent to pick up empties and wipe down tables.

  Terry slid onto the stool next to Jo.

  Jo grinned in welcome. “You don’t have to stop playing on my account.”

  “I’m not, we’re taking a break for a minute, then regrouping.” Terry tipped her beer up and took a swallow. “How was your date?”

  “Should’ve ordered a stronger drink if you want me to relive that nightmare.”

  Sam walked toward them from the men’s room and wrapped his arm around Terry.

  “Another douche, hon?” Terry asked, leaning into Sam.

  Jo took a swig of her beer before answering. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I mean okay, he didn’t want to take my Mustang. Instead, we end up in this rusted out jalopy that was three shades of wrong and made wheezing sounds like Aunt Em’s dog when he ran too much. Which I did not comment on. Then instead of ice skating or the movies, which was what we’d agreed to on the phone, he took me shopping—”

  “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” Terry whispered, before stifling a giggle behind a close fist.

  She let the giggle pass. “Exactly, you know I hate to shop—”

  “I know, you go in and just get anything black that fits and leave.”

  “See! You know me.” Jo swallowed another mouthful of beer. “And if the shopping wasn’t horrible enough . . . it was shoe shopping for him. Then he’s all like ‘I’ll make this up to you with dinner.’ Of course I’m thinking a steak.” She groaned. “I really wanted a steak. With a loaded potato—”

  “You’re digressing, Jojo,” Sam interrupted.

  She set her beer on the counter behind her. “He took me to Wendy’s—”

  “Come again.” Sam’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  “Nope, you heard me right—Wendy’s. And proceeded to tell me that with the shoe expense I needed to keep my order at a certain price. It’s a flipping hamburger joint, not somewhere swanky, but no more than ten bucks.”

  “Holy shit.” Sam coughed when Terry smacked him on his stomach.

  “I know. Worst. Date. Ever.” She barely held in the wail.

  Terry patted Jo’s arm in sympathy. “No wonder you’re snarly.”

  Jo’s eyes narrowed on a bright blond head of hair. “No freaking way.”

  Terry followed her gaze. “You mean Karma and Maker? I heard Sullivan invited them. Said they should get to know the group they’ll be working with.”

  A loud yell for Terry and Sam accompanied by a wave, pulled her two friends back to their own game and left Jo with more questions. Why would Sullivan invite Karma here? Why would Karma and Maker come?

  She watched as Karma threw her head back and laughed, her hand on Rhys’s forearm and it all fell into place.

  Chapter 5

  Jo sighed when Karma’s eyes met hers, a smirk came across her sister’s face as she sauntered toward her.

  “What the hell are you still doing here?” Jo bit out.

  “Aw, sis’ with the way you keep greeting me, I’d think you didn’t like me.” Karma plopped down on the stool Terry had vacated. “Aren’t you going to play?”

  “Not right now.” She lifted the beer to her lips to have something to do while watching her sister warily from the corner of her eye. “What about you? Did you just walk away from your game?”

  “Nah, it ended, and Maker became otherwise occupied.” Karma flicked a finger toward her partner, who had two women wrapped around each of his arms. “He’s such a freaking hound dog.”

  Maker and the two women, one blond and one brunette, walked over to Karma. “Me and the ladies are going to dance. I’ll meet up with you at the hotel.”

  “Just make sure you remember which room number is yours, because if I come in and find anyone else in my room, their ass is getting tased,” Karma warned, but Maker was already headed to the dance floor. The only response Jo saw was his middle finger aimed at Karma behind the blonde’s back.

  Alone again, Karma’s attention returned to Jo. “Look, I know you still have issues with our dad, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore the rest of us. Juliette isn’t one to go out of her way for anyone, so she’ll probably leave you alone if that’s what you want. But me and Jenna want to get to know you.”

  Karma twisted around, one leg tucked under her and the other dangling off the barstool. “Dad should’ve kept in contact when he found out about you, but he respected the boundaries your mother and stepfather set.”

  Mirroring Karma’s position, Jo shifted her bottle from hand to hand. “Ask you a question?”

  “Sure, doesn’t mean I’ll answer it, but shoot.”

  “How’d you all end up living with your father?”

  “Our father,” Karma replied, but no heat was behind the statement. Instead, her words came off bored, as if she said it for form.

  Jo allowed the silence
to stretch. To become uncomfortable, because she needed an answer.

  Karma’s gaze dropped, and slender fingers plucked at the label on the beer bottle. “It’s not like he kidnapped us or anything—”

  Scoffing, Jo’s eyes widened when her sister leaned fully into her space, her breath ghosting across Jo’s cheek smelled of beer and French fries. Yuck. She crinkled her nose, jolting at Karma’s harsh tone.

  “He didn’t kidnap us. He’s not like that. Jesus, Jo, he left you with your mother to raise, because she was probably a better bet than him back then.”

  “Well, what am I supposed to think. He’s a killer. A hired one at that. He makes money off of people’s deaths. It also means he takes what he wants. So, did he just not want me?” Jo’s breath sawed in and out as she struggled to gain control of her anger.

  “You have a pretty low opinion of him. He’s not like that.” Karma’s finger jabbed the counter. “Don’t jump to conclusions based on what you heard or read about him. You should get to know a person and let that form your opinion. Even if you don’t like him, you should at least give your sisters a chance. We were never asked back then, but we’re here now.”

  Shame filled Jo, she’d found out too much about her bio-dad to want to get to know him. Carl was her father, she didn’t need another one, but Karma was right about her half-sisters. “You’re right. I should get to know you all.”

  “Damn right you should.” Karma smirked. “Should at least get to know us enough to learn the nicknames we have for each other.”

  “You mean like your father’s?” Jo wanted to smack herself. Why couldn’t she let the subject go? A pinch of hurt at how easily the man had dropped her with her mother and left only to reappear years later to check that she was enrolled in self-defense classes. Long enough for a few questions then he was gone again.