Complicated Matters

by Unknown

  Taylor’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the final new recruit. David Clancy last job in Miami. “Why would they hire a bum like Clancy?”

  Taylor stormed across the street to the administrative office.

  The receptionist took off her wireframe glasses and looked up. “Hi, Sheriff Taylor. How’s the arm?”

  “Hurts like hell. I need to talk to whoever hired the new deputies.”

  “One moment, Sheriff Taylor.” She buzzed the mayor. “Mayor Richards, Sheriff Taylor wishes to speak to you.”

  “Send him in.”

  “Sheriff Taylor the--”

  “I heard. Thanks.” Taylor walked past her and entered the mayor’s office. “Mayor Richards, what idiot hired the new deputies?”

  The mayor was a stout man with a receding hairline. Years of good fortune manifested itself around his waistline. He looked at Taylor with a mile-wide grin on his face and propped his feet on his desk. “Tell me which deputy, and I’ll tell you which idiot.”

  “My main concern is David Clancy. He was a mediocre cop at best back in Miami, and I don’t think he improved much with age.”

  The mayor scratched his balding head. “That’s funny. He came highly recommended by Special Agent Florence LaBoe.”

  Taylor leaned across the mayor’s desk. “Flo recommended Clancy?”

  “Yes, and she said you would vouch for him.”

  “I don’t know where she’d get a whacked-out idea like that.” Taylor backed up. “I can’t stand to be in the same room with him.”

  “Well you’re stuck with him now.”

  Taylor stormed out of the mayor’s office mumbling, “I drove more than eight-hundred miles and still can’t get away from that dirty son-of-a-bitch.”

  Taylor entered the precinct. He went straight to his office and slammed the door. There has to be a way to keep this from happening. He picked up Clancy’s file. Well, Taylor. You’ve got two days to figure it out.

  Think man. How would those two even know each other? And where’s Daniels’ main stash of drugs? He paced around his office. Come on, boy. Get your head together. These two questions are completely unrelated.

  He decided to do a background check on Clancy and Flo. There has to be a connection there somewhere. If she didn’t’ trust him, she wouldn’t have recommended him.

  His phone rang. “Taylor here.”

  “This is Morris. Farrah Mathews is being released today. I need you to go with me to pick her up.”

  “Okay, stop by the sheriff’s office and pick me up.” Damn, this special agent/temporary sheriff stuff is getting old.

  He called his relief, Agent Ramsey. “Ramsey, this is Taylor. They released Farrah Mathews today. I’m supposed to help pick her up. Can you watch her for a few days?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, man. You can take over tomorrow morning.” He thought he should be the one to tell her he wouldn’t be around for a few days.

  “I’ll be there.”

  Taylor changed out of his uniform and into a suit. Morris was a stickler for protocol, and he didn’t need any sermons on FDLE dress codes.

  Tara Mathews and Special Agent Morris stopped at the Sheriff’s office in a government issued sedan.

  “It’s nice to see you adhering to the dress code, Special Agent Taylor.” Morris mentioned as Taylor sat down in the backseat.

  “How nice of you to notice,” Taylor huffed.

  “Is it Special Agent, or Sheriff Taylor, these days?” Tara Mathews asked.

  “Taylor will do.” He studied her profile. She looked like an older version of Farrah--still stunning without knowing it.

  She turned her head toward him and smiled. “Taylor it is.”

  “I’ll stay with the car. You escort Mrs. Mathews inside,” Morris ordered.

  Taylor sat back and tried to get comfortable. “You’re the senior agent.”

  Once they pulled into the underground parking area Taylor walked Mrs. Mathews to Farrah’s room.

  Tara stuck her head through the door. “Did someone call for a taxi?”

  Farrah put her hands together as if praying. “Please tell me you have some clean clothes.”

  “I grabbed some these from your closet.” Her mom laughed and tossed her a Wal-Mart bag. “Get changed.”

  Farrah caught the bag in midair. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Hurry up. Taylor’s waiting in the hall.”

  Farrah stopped dressing long enough to question the name. “Taylor?”

  “Special Agent, Sheriff, whatever. It’s just easier to call him Taylor,” Tara rambled on.

  Farrah came out of the bathroom and put on her sneakers. “Why did he come with you?”

  “Sweetie, you’re gonna have to get used to being followed around until all this trial stuff is over.”

  “I didn’t know it would be him doing the following.” She tossed the clothes she arrived at the hospital in, into the trash. “I’m ready.”

  Taylor entered the room. “Are you sure?”

  Farrah stared at him licking her lips. “I think so.”

  Heat rose from Taylor’s neck as he held the door open for them. He wondered if Farrah meant to follow him that close as he escorted them down the hall, ever watchful for unpleasant surprises.

  “I’ll ride up front with Agent Morris,” Farrah’s mom said just before they got to the car.

  Taylor and the other agent held their doors open for them.

  “So, how are you going to pull off this double duty thing you have going on here, now that you’re no longer undercover?” Farrah asked, once Taylor joined her in the back seat.

  “I’m not. Special Agent Ramsey will be taking over for me.”

  Farrah touched his hand. “Does that mean you won’t be coming around anymore?”

  Morris adjusted his mirror.

  Taylor jerked his hand away. “I’ll still be around just not that much.”

  “It’s just that,” she turned toward him, “I’ve gotten used to you popping in.”

  “I believe Special Agent Taylor can find a way to accommodate you, Miss Mathews.” Morris glared at Taylor via the rearview mirror. “After all, he’s managed this far. Isn’t that right, Taylor?”

  “It’ll be my pleasure.” Taylor shot Morris a cold look. He had to find a way to get his attraction for Farrah under control. Every second he spent with her had him wanting her that much more. He hated to think about what Morris would do if he found out. “Just drop us off at the station.”

  “Speaking of accommodations, where will I be sleeping?” Farrah leaned forward to speak to her mother. “It seems unfair for Alex and Jess to go back to sharing a room.”

  “Your dad turned the attic into a fairly nice bedroom. The fresh cut wood makes the house smell so good. Your things are already up there.”

  She leaned back. “He didn’t have to do all that for me.”

  “I’ve been trying to get him to finish that attic for years.”

  *

  The Mathews house was a single story structure, built in the days of high ceilings and huge rooms. Taylor had only been in it once, that was because of the break in. He was amazed by the size of the place. The front of the house consisted of two massive rooms used for the living room and an office-library combo.

  “Every agent is shadowing a member of the family.” Morris brought Taylor out of his wonderment.

  He blinked and shook his head. “What?”

  “You’re assigned to Farrah Mathews,” Morris snapped. “She seems to have developed an affection for you.”

  “In that case, I’ll give you the tour.” Farrah took his hand.

  He followed her but not without noticing the look of disapproval on Morris’ face. He couldn’t pull his hand away, it would hurt Farrah’s feeling and get him into trouble. He did enjoy hearing her voice as she explained the lay of the house. The master bedroom shared a wall with the living room and the kitchen was off to the side of the library. On the other side of
the kitchen was a hallway that led to the lesser bedrooms and a bathroom.

  “It looks like this is my room.” She pointed to the entrance at the end of the hall.

  Taylor stared at the spiral staircase and landing perched at the top of the stairs. “Your father does beautiful work.”

  “He likes to work with his hands.”

  “Since you like the stair case so much, you may has well sleep there.” Morris handed Taylor a blanket. “You’ll be close to your charge.”

  Two agents were in the living room, and two more were in the library.

  “You look so uncomfortable sleeping on that thing.” Farrah brought him a pillow. “You’re never going to get any rest.”

  “I think that might be the point. But Morris is my problem.” He moved over so she could sit down net to him. “You really should go to bed.”

  She leaned against him and lay her head against his chest. “I’ve done nothing but lay around for nearly three weeks.”

  Taylor put his hand on her shoulder then quickly moved it to the floor.

  Farrah lifted her head and looked at him. “You could’ve left that where it was.”

  “I could lose my job for putting it there in the first place.” He stared into her eyes, their mouths lingering less than an inch apart.

  She moved closer to him.

  “I can’t, Farrah.” He pulled back. “Not as long as I’m assigned to protect you.”

  “I’m sorry, Special Agent Taylor.” She got up and went back to her room.

  “It’s for the best,” he reminded himself. This just a temporary assignment.

  She looked down over the railing which secured the hole in the attic floor used for the doorway. “What about after all this is over?”

  Taylor looked up forcing a smile. “We’ll see.”

  Chapter 21

  Taylor crept through the house and passed the barrage of snoring agents who sounded like a heard of wild hogs foraging for food. Lucky bastards, it must be nice to sleep so easily. He retrieved his laptop from his truck and started his investigation of Clancy and Flo.

  There was nothing in their childhoods. Flo had grown up in the bayou country of Louisiana. Clancy was from Kissimmee, Florida. They’re both swamp rats. Nothing incriminating there.

  Things began to get interesting when Taylor started reading their college transcripts. They were classmates at Sante Fe Community College and graduated from the academy together. Flo was Clancy’s first partner.

  Three years as a patrol officer in Miami, and Flo applied to FDLE.

  Could they have kept in touch all those years? Clancy didn’t seem like the sentimental type. But he was the type to know when someone could be useful.

  Taylor emailed Commander Phillips with his findings and asked for the financial records to Florence LaBoe.

  He checked his watch. Two in the morning. He put the laptop back in his truck, returned to his spot atop the stairs, and closed his eyes.

  *

  An alarm went off downstairs. Taylor made his way toward the sound only to discover Mr. and Mrs. Mathews starting their day. The smell of fresh coffee was too enticing. He decided to let sleeping agents lie and joined the Mathews. “Good morning.”

  “It’s nice to see one of you is on his toes.” John held up a coffee cup. “Want some?”

  “Please,” Taylor answered. “You mind if I wash my face first?”

  “Sure. A shower might help too,” John laughed. “Those stairs weren’t built for restin’.”

  Taylor shook his head and laughed. “Thanks. This won’t take long.”

  All he had with him was his suit from the previous day. He put on the shirt and pants, but folded up the blazer and tie along with his blanket. Fifteen minutes later, he returned to the kitchen table and sat down in front of a cup of black coffee. “Thank you.”

  John faked a toast with his cup of coffee. “Anything to help.”

  Taylor held up his cup too. He hadn’t experienced a scene like this since Lianna was alive. Whenever possible, they had breakfast together.

  John took another swallow from his cup. “My wife says you prefer to be called Taylor.”

  “It cuts down on the confusion.” He shrugged. “But you can call me whatever name you’re comfortable with.” He inhaled the comforting steam rising from his cup.

  Tara joined them. “I noticed Farrah calls you by your first name.”

  Taylor grinned. “Actually, she calls me by my middle name whether she knows it or not.”

  John finished his coffee. “I get the feeling she might be infatuated with you.”

  “You would have to ask her about that, Mr. Mathews.” Taylor took a swallow from his cup uncomfortable with the conversation. “But if you’re uncomfortable with the arrangements, I could ask that another agent be assigned to your daughter.”

  “That’s very accommodatin’ of you, but I understand she didn’t like that idea the first time you mentioned it.” John got up and headed to the coffee maker. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush. If you can’t reciprocate those feelin’s, tell her soon.”

  Alex walked into the kitchen still half asleep. “Dad, are those guys going to be campin’ out here forever? Taylor watched us for months, and we hardly knew he was there at all.” He jerked his head when he saw Taylor sitting at the table cradling his cup in his hands. “Hello, Taylor.”

  “Hi, Alex.” Taylor tried to control his laughter. He was glad someone broke up John Mathews’ inquisition. “Those snoring agents work for you. Go wake ‘em up if you want.”

  It wasn’t long before Morris came stumbling into the kitchen. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Mathews. Taylor, we need to talk.”

  Taylor refilled his cup. “What can I do for you, boss?”

  Morris shot him a dirty look, but Taylor just smiled at him.

  “I need you to help me coordinate the surveillance team,” Morris mumbled.

  “What did you say, boss?” Taylor put his hand to his ear. “I don’t think I heard you.”

  “I’m open to suggestions for making things go smoother tonight.” Morris raised his voice.

  Taylor got up. “Excuse us please.”

  They went out on the back porch. Taylor put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Send for a camper trailer so we can live like human beings without disrupting the Mathews. At night, we all stay outside. Two agents need to be in front of the house, two in back, and one at the head of the road. Better yet, allow me to bring in my nightshift deputies. I’ve got ten on schedule, four of them can come out here. We can sleep in the camper just in case something goes wrong. And tell the rest of the agents to get some regular clothes. Suits aren‘t practical around here except for a few hours on Sundays. That’s when the family attends church.”

  “Okay, we’ll do it your way.” Morris braced himself against the wall. “But I’m warning you--”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Taylor turned his back to Morris. “You’ll take all the credit or give me all the blame, depending on how things go. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to persuade Miss Mathews to accompany me to my other job.”

  By the time they returned to the kitchen Farrah was dressed. “Ready to go, Sheriff?”

  Taylor crossed his arms. “Do you have your workout clothes and basketball?”

  “I thought you said you had some work to do at the office?”

  “I do. But you need to practice. So I’m doing my work at the rec center. You got a second shot at your dream. Don’t screw it up.”

  *

  They arrived at the sheriff’s office. Taylor felt an idiot asking Farrah to stay in the lobby, but he had to talk to Commander Phillips.

  “Phillips here.”

  “Commander, this is Special Agent Taylor. I have a problem. David Clancy is transferring up here on Special Agent LaBoe’s suggestion. Commander, he’s as dirty as they come without being caught. I checked their histories and they’ve known each other since the academy. They were also each other’s first partners.”
<
br />   “There’s nothing I can do about Clancy’s transfer. Did you find Daniels’ main stash yet?”

  “No, sir. I’m still looking.”

  “Well find it. Phillips out.”

  Find it? Taylor slapped his desk. I don’t have time to take a piss, never mind find a drug stash.

  His thoughts drifted to Farrah. She was inside his head. He couldn’t have her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He tugged at his hair. Dammit, Taylor. You nearly kissed her on a hospital bed. How messed up is that?

  He was mad at himself for wanting to hold her. But holding her wasn’t enough. He wanted to make love to her. He thought about her tender, young body yielding to his desires. The sweet taste of her kisses on his lips. How her firm breasts would feel in his hands. He wanted to caress her pink nipples with the tip of his tongue. He wanted to whisper poetry against her skin as he nuzzled her neck.

  He punched his filing cabinet. She’s an assignment. A kid.

  *

  “Let’s go to work.” Taylor looked around the recreation center. Perfect. We may be alone, but at least I can keep my distance.

  The scorekeeper’s table was still set up, so he used that for a desk while she practiced.

  He ran Flo’s financial statements and discovered she had about three hundred thousand dollars in a saving’s account. No way had she saved that much on her salary. He also discovered Flo had a houseboat called the Marie Lavaeu.

  Taylor remembered Clancy always went on a two week fishing trip twice a year. What was that charter boat service? He remembered Clancy bragging about a woman boat captain with big breasts, but he couldn’t remember her name. Clancy was about as good as keeping his mouth shut as he was about keeping his pants zipped. Mark Chisolm, his partner back in Miami, would know. Clancy would have told him at least half a million stories about it. First, he needed to call his Sergeant.

  “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Sarge?”

  “Hmm. There used to be some goofball used to ask me that same stupid question. Reminded me of Buggs Bunny when he talked like that. What was his name?” There was a second or two of dead air, then the sergeant busted out laughing. “How the hell are you, kid? I heard you busted up that Mini-Mafia with only one gun fight.”