Complicated Matters

by Unknown

  “To tell the truth, I’m not so sure.” Taylor spotted Farrah practicing three-throws. Good. She can’t hear me from that distance. “When did Clancy leave the force?”

  “Let me see.” There was more dead air, as the old sergeant thought things through. “He took his last vacation about a month before all hell broke loose up there. Then he came back and gave his two weeks notice. He said he had better opportunities waiting.”

  “His old partner, Mark Chisolm, could I get his phone number?”

  “I guess it’s okay. What’s going on, son?”

  “Maybe nothing. But Clancy’s on his way up here, and I want to know why a hot shot like him would want to come to a place like this. Because it sure as hell ain’t the excitement.”

  Marx gave him Chisholm’s phone number. “He gets off around midnight.”

  “Good. Not so many ears around to listen to the conversation. And, Sarge, do me a favor and don’t tell him I called.”

  “Okay, you take care of yourself.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come on, Heath,” Farrah called from mid-court. “I need someone to play me.”

  Taylor pointed to his injured arm. “I can’t.”

  “Chicken.” She spun the basketball on the tip of her pointer finger.

  “First one to ten points wins.” He turned off his computer. “And you have to promise to take it easy on me.”

  “I promise.”

  Farrah was dribbling the ball when Taylor came running across the gymnasium floor and stole the ball from her, sinking it in the basket with an easy lay-up.

  “That’s cheating,” she yelled.

  “I prefer to call it the element of surprise.” He threw the ball back to her. “Now show me something.”

  She dribbled the ball, but he blocked her mid-court.

  “Come on, girl. Get past me.” He eyed the hemline of her shorts as she used her body to shield the ball from him. His body reacted to a vision of her wrapping her legs around his waist. He felt dirty for thinking and feeling it. Dammit, Taylor. Stop thinking like that.

  “I’m used to working with a team.”

  “Sometimes you have to be a team of one. Now go back and do it again.” He went to the other side of the court. “And get past me this time, or I quit.”

  Farrah’s nostrils flared. She started dribbling the ball. Taylor rushed her. She side-stepped him and sank the ball from mid-court.

  He grabbed the ball. “Game on.”

  They went back and forth in a virtual tie until Taylor sunk the tenth point.

  He tossed the ball back to her and headed for the bleachers. “Not bad for a one-armed, old man.”

  “You’re not getting off that easy, Coach,” Farrah yelled from across the basketball court.

  “What do you mean by coach?” Taylor turned around and started walking backwards.

  “I mean, since you and I are joined at the hip, we might as well accomplish something.” She threw the ball at him. “I want you to teach me how you just beat me.”

  He caught the ball and sank it in the basket midcourt. “There’s nothing to teach. You didn’t play your best, and I’ve always dribbled and shot with my right hand.”

  “No-no.” She retrieved the ball and caught up with him. “You’re much faster than me. How did that happen?”

  Taylor went back to his computer. “Take the ball in both hands and run up and down each segment of bleacher until you’ve covered them all.” He turned on some Billy Idol music.

  “You’re killin’ me with that hard rock.” She proceeded to run the bleachers.

  Taylor laughed. “Give it a chance. It’ll put you in gear.”

  “I don’t suppose I can get a little country.” She kept running.

  “Keep up this with this.” Taylor played The Orange Blossom Special.

  “Hey, that’s bluegrass.”

  “At least it’s not metal.” Taylor shrugged.

  While Farrah worked on her legs, Taylor worked on finding The Marie Lavaeu. He called every boat storage facility listed on the internet. Damn. Nothing.

  Farrah tapped him on the shoulder. “Can I shower at your place before we go home?”

  Taylor shook his head. “What?”

  “Maybe you should take a nap. You don’t look good.”

  “Gee. I thought you found me kind of cute.”

  Farrah kneeled down in front of him and touched his forehead. “You feel kind of warm.”

  “My temperature rises when I’m around a pretty woman.”

  She shifted her weight to her right foot and crossed her arms in front of her. “Isn’t your shift about over?”

  “Just about.” Taylor scanned a list of boat slot rentals. “Why?”

  “Let’s go back to your place so you can get some rest.”

  “But what about you?”

  “I’ll stay with you until you wake up.” She grabbed her gym bag. “While I’m there, I’ll take a shower. The ones here look kind of nasty.”

  He envisioned her in his shower. Her long body curvy in just the right places. He pictured himself washing her back as the shower foam slid down her legs. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? I can freshen up and practice the guitar. And you can catch up on your sleep.”

  He did feel weary. “Okay,” he conceded. “But it’s only because I don’t trust myself to drive all the way back to your place.”

  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Heath.”

  He managed the short ride back to his house and quickly escorted her inside. “There’s one condition attached to all this--stay away from the doors and windows.”

  “I promise.” She blew him a kiss and closed the bathroom door.

  Taylor took off his shirt and shoes, then stretched out on his bed. Feeling a tinge of guilt about being attracted to Farrah, he turned Lianna’s picture face down on the nightstand and closed his eyes. The sound of the running shower water lulled him to sleep.

  He woke up when the bed moved. The scent of baby powder invaded his senses. He didn’t have to ask who it was. Over the last, few months he learn to associate that subtle scent with Farrah. “What are you doing?”

  She laid her hand across his chest and pressed her body against his. “Satisfying my curiosity.”

  He kissed her hand. “Your curiosity is going to cost me my job.”

  “I won’t say anything if you don’t,” she whispered.

  He rolled over and started kissing her. She tasted so sweet. His body reacted to the situation. He didn’t realize how lonely he was until the sassy, young woman entered his life.

  He stopped when a little voice inside his head screamed, “Ethics violation.”

  He turned is back to her. “I can’t do this. The timing is bad. It ain’t right.”

  Farrah got off the bed. “Ted used to beg me.”

  “I ain’t Ted.”

  Chapter 22

  Taylor woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. Farrah was sitting in the corner chair looking angry.

  “Hello? I’ll be right there.” He got up and dressed. “The state’s attorney is waiting in my office. We have to go.”

  Taylor’s house was right down the street from the Sheriff’s office. It didn’t take long for them to get there.

  He escorted her into the lobby. “Stay here.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir.”

  He entered his office thinking how cute she looked.

  “Who’s the ride along?” the Statewide Prosecutor asked.

  “Every member of the Mathews family has an agent,” Taylor reminded him.

  “Then where’s the interim sheriff?”

  “You’re looking at him. Don’t you state boys talk to each other? I was appointed interim sheriff as my cover. Now the cover’s blown, but I’m still doing the job.”

  The state prosecutor seemed confused. “Who’s your supervisor?”

  Taylor took out his laptop and punched in his code. />
  “Phillips here. Have you found that cache of drugs yet, Special Agent Taylor?”

  “I’m working on a lead, sir.”

  “The answer’s no. Why are you calling me?”

  “Could you please tell the prosecuting attorney who I am? He seems to be having a hard time with the concept of a temporarily assigned special agent going undercover as an interim sheriff.”

  “Tell him to concentrate on making a convincing argument in court and leave special ops to me. Phillips out.”

  The attorney sat down in Taylor’s seat. “Why does he believe there is a cache of drugs?”

  Taylor flopped down in a small leather chair. “Do you think they were buying that stuff ten pounds at a time?”

  “If there is a cache, where is it?”

  “May be I’m too damn busy answering stupid questions to find it.” Taylor stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few leads to run down.”

  Lil Stewart was staffing the dispatcher’s desk. “Sheriff Taylor, there’s a ruckus going on at Millie’s can you take care of it, or should I call Deputy Bowman?”

  “I’ll take this one, but stand by in case I need backup. Any excuse to get away from that DA. Come on, Farrah. We’re going to Millie’s.” He ran to his patrol car with Farrah chasing after him.

  *

  They sped down the road and parked next to the handicapped space at Millie’s.

  “You stay here.” He pointed his finger at her. “And keep your head down.”

  Taylor went inside and walked up to the counter. “Is there a problem, Millie?”

  “They left when I called you.” She poured him a glass of tea. “Have a seat. Take a load off.”

  Farrah came in. “Is everything alright?”

  Taylor spun around. “I thought I asked you to stay in the car.”

  “Hello, Farrah.” Millie took a swallow from a glass of water. “I heard your folks returned from the dead.”

  “Yeah, it’s a long story.” Farrah sat down at the bar and grabbed Taylor’s tea.

  “Alex and Jess say it was witness protection.”

  Farrah stared at the counter. “Maybe it’s not that long after all.”

  Taylor looked around Millie’s protection detail. “Why didn’t your assigned agent handle that domestic dispute?”

  “Probably because I got him scrubbing the walk-in freezer,” she said.

  Taylor laughed. “He’s supposed to be protecting you.”

  “He’s protectin’ me from the health inspector.” The woman had a perpetual smile on her face. “Speakin’ of protectors, you take care of my girl.” Millie nodded at Farrah. “I heard she’s got a shot a bein’ a Lady Gator.”

  “Will do, boss.” He snatched the tea out of Farrah’s hands and drank the remainder of it.

  “Hey,” Farrah yelled.

  He sat the empty glass down and dropped a dollar on the counter. “Better go.”

  Farrah sat down in the front seat of his car. “I won’t miss everyone knowing my business when I leave this place.”

  Her words made Taylor cringe. No matter where he went, she was going to leave Morgansville and never live there again. The sassy, little country girl was going to take on the big, bad world. He wondered how much she would change. “Just don’t let the world change you too much.”

  “What do you care what I do? Every time I get close to you, you push me away and hide behind that badge or shove a basketball at me.”

  Taylor wanted to take it all back. He wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted--None of what he wanted mattered. He lost two dreams in his life. He wasn’t about to let her lose hers. “I wish I could make you understand.”

  She turned toward him. “Explain it to me.”

  “I tried to. You won’t listen.”

  *

  They drove back to the Mathews’ farm in silence. Taylor pondered his next move. He had to get some time alone to call Mark Chisolm. If his suspicions were right Clancy was the one bringing the coke into the United States.

  The Mathews went about their afternoon and the agents observed at a distance.

  A camper was procured, and the house declared off limits. Two agents were in the front of the compound, two in back, and Taylor volunteered to hang out at the barn and watch the outer areas.

  Farrah didn’t speak to him and barely glanced his way the entire evening.

  It hadn’t been but a few hours, and already he was missing her.

  Night came, and the evening shift deputies came to relieve the FDLE agents.

  Taylor situated the deputies in their patrol cars and told them not to hesitate to wake the slumbering agents if the need arose. He told them to wake Morris first since he was the senior agent.

  The interior of the trailer was supposed to house six people, but four were cramped.

  Taylor grabbed his sleeping bag and pillow, and headed for the overhead loft in the barn. At least there, he’d be able to talk to Clancy’s former partner in peace.

  The evening wore on, and midnight arrived. Taylor gave it another half hour before calling Chisolm.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Chisolm. This is Taylor. I worked with you and David Clancy before the Sarge got fed up and sent me over to the state boys.”

  “Yeah, I remember. Moody, little cuss. Got sent to some little hole-in-the wall nobody down here ever heard of. How the hell have you been?” Chisolm sounded like he wasn’t feeling too much pain.

  “I’m good. Sorry to bother you so late, but I need to ask you for some advice.”

  “That’s all right. I just got off work about a half hour ago. The real party ain’t even started yet. Got some barely legals coming over for a workout. How’s the socializing going on up there?”

  “It ain’t, man. I live like a freaking monk.” Taylor choked back the impulse to heave. “That’s the reason I need your advice. Clancy was always talking about a charter boat captain. A chick with really big boobs. You don’t happen to know her name and what boat service she works for, do you?”

  “Oh yeah, just let me think. Valerie, he called her Voluptuous Valerie. She worked for Brigadoon Charters on a boat called The Fallen Lady. And she’s not big, she’s massive. Clancy used to say he could use her for a life raft. What’s wrong? Ain’t there no fishing up there?”

  “Man, they don’t even have the damn ocean up here. In fact, they’re a little slack on all aspects of entertainment.” Taylor looked around to make sure he was still alone. He sure as hell didn’t want Farrah hearing him talk like that. “And that leads me to my next question. Clancy used to procure some sweet rides. You couldn’t tell me where he got them, could you?”

  “Sure, Buddy. A place in Miami called Vortex Motors. Why would you be interested in a sports car? I thought you were into bikes.”

  “I figure if she’s into Clancy, then sports cars are what gets her going.” Taylor almost gagged. “I only got one chance to make a good impression and all that jazz.”

  “I know what you mean. But don’t worry. If she’s with Clancy, she ain’t that hard to impress. Good luck,” Chisolm laughed. “Don’t wear yourself out,”

  “Thanks man.” Taylor finished the conversation with the desire to take a shower. He heard footsteps.

  He climbed down out of the loft and drew his gun.

  John Mathews stepped out of the shadows. “If you’re not gonna use that thing, put it away.”

  Taylor holstered his gun. “It’s awfully late, isn’t it, Mr. Mathews?”

  “Not if you’re havin’ conversations like the one I just overheard.” John pointed up.

  “Sir, I can explain that.”

  John proceeded to climb the ladder. “Let’s go back to the loft.”

  “I’m looking into the background of an old colleague of mine.” Taylor let John climb up first. “His former partner isn’t the trusting kind, so I had to pretend to be something I’m not in order to get the information I need.”

  “You’re good at pretending, aren�
��t you, son?” John sat down and swung his legs over the edge of the loft.

  Taylor climbed up and sat down next to him. “Not as good as I need to be. If I was, more people would trust me. ”

  “That’s good to know.” John took out a cigar. “For a minute there, I thought I might be talkin’ to a pro.”

  “I try to be honest. But--” Taylor looked away. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this undercover stuff after all. It’s getting hard to keep my stories straight.”

  John lit his cigar. “Is it really all just pretend with you?”

  Taylor blinked. “I don’t understand your question, Mr. Mathews.”

  “Oh, I think you do.” John puffed on his cigar sending white smoke into the air. “Tell me something.”

  Taylor stuck his head down inside his shirt waiting for the smoke to dissipate. “If I can.”

  “Why are you pretending not to care for my daughter?”

  “I never said I didn’t care about her. I don’t want to hurt her.” Taylor swung his feet back and forth. “I’m in the middle of something huge right now.” He let a few seconds tick off as he searched for another reason for his behavior. “Besides, she needs to concentrate on basketball, and she won’t do that with me distracting her.”

  John stared at the ground below. “How would you know about something like that?”

  “Miami High basketball, five years ago.” Taylor stood up. “Look up the name Antonio H. Taylor. I need to get some sleep.”

  “One more question before I go.” John got up.

  “What would that be?”

  “How many people can you become, before you forget who you are?”

  Taylor stared up at the tin roof and spider web covered rafters. “Who I am isn’t important.”

  Chapter 23

  Taylor woke up to what sounded like a demolition crew. He got up and looked down from the loft. Farrah. It figures.

  She was mumbling something about being stupid, and falling for an asshole.

  He watched from overhead, as he moved his injured arm and shoulder, trying to relieve some of the stiffness. “Good morning, Sunshine,” he yelled just as she was about to take a hammer to a poor unsuspecting two-by-four.