“I’m not lost. Just drunk.” The bartender delivered their drinks. “See. Perfect timing.”
“So, now I’m curious. What happened?”
“Jaxon Jennings happened.”
“Your boss now?”
He nodded. “He ruined me and then saved me…sort of.”
“Does this have anything to do with that thing last year? With the girl who was trapped?”
“Yep.”
“You’re a hero.” She said, staring at him with different eyes. Not really admiration, but something like envy. Even envy was too strong, but something close. “You saved that girl.”
“Got fired for it too.”
She put her hand on his shoulder and the weight of it had an effect he didn’t expect. He didn’t want her to take it away.
“Worth it, if you ask me.” She pulled her hand away. He was disappointed. “Any boss who would let you go after that would not be someone I would work for. He must have been a real dick.”
Now it was his turn to laugh and then she joined in. He watched her and when it died down he stared into her eyes and couldn’t look away. She kept the smile on her lips and turned away after an uncomfortable minute. She sipped her new drink.
“I guess he was,” he finally said.
“Oh, he was. You should be glad he fired you. Working for Jaxon might not be your ultimate dream job, but you won’t do it for ever. I’m sure you could find something in any law enforcement department in the state if you drop that story on them.”
He hadn’t thought about it that way.
He had sunk into his own self-pity and when Michelle had abandoned him, he called the first person he thought of—Jaxon Jennings. The man who told him he’d have a job for him any time. He never even considered applying anywhere else.
“I don’t know…”
“I do. You should try.”
“I’d be letting Jaxon down.”
“He’d probably be happy for you. I mean, I don’t know him, but he sounds like he’s looking out for you and he couldn’t be disappointed if you found something you really wanted.”
He shrugged. He turned and looked hard into her eyes, searching for something that would tell him she was messing with his head, but she smiled back and all he saw were those green eyes shining at him. She was sincere. Or he was too drunk to tell. He decided he really didn’t care as long as she kept looking at him like that.
“We’ll see,” he said.
“You know. I came in here tonight all pissed off at the world. You were partly the cause, but you’ve somehow made me feel better. Thanks.”
He toasted her silently with his glass and she toasted back. They both drank.
His consumption for the evening caught up with him and he excused himself to the bathroom.
“I might not be here when you get back,” she said, grinning.
“Well, it was good to see a different side of you, Hawks.”
“Laurelyn.”
“Laurelyn. What a pretty name. I like it. It fits you…some of the time.” He grinned.
She laughed. “I guess that’s true. Maybe I will be here when you get back.”
“If you stay, order me another drink. I’m buying.”
“You sure?”
“It’s a bar. I’m sure.”
He walked off to do his business and when he reached the doorway he turned back. She was still there. He kind of hoped she would stay.
After relieving what seemed like the whole night’s worth of alcohol, he splashed some water on his face at the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. What he saw he didn’t like, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d just have to have a few more and the vision would slip from his mind.
He pulled his cell phone out and looked at the screen. Michelle’s number was still up. He glanced at himself once more and then cleared her number from the screen, slipping the phone back into his pocket. If she wasn’t going to be there for him, he’d take her up on her suggestion. That is if Laurelyn Hawks was still here.
He pushed the door open and looked up at the bar. It was empty. Figures.
He was sure she was going to be there. Guess that vision in the mirror was not his imagination. Who’d want to spend any time with a sad case like him? Time for another drink.
At the bar he saw her half empty glass and another full glass in front of his spot. He smiled. At least she had left him a gift. He saluted no one with it and said, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turned to see her slipping into the stool next to him and he smiled.
“Thought you left.”
“The lady’s room was calling too. I don’t handle my booze very well.”
“You should have told me that earlier. I’d have you drunk by now.”
She smiled that glorious smile. “I told you I’m not here to get picked up.”
“I’m not here to pick you up. You’re just a surprise. And I don’t see anyone else in here willing to talk to me.”
“I took pity on you.”
The bartender set another drink in front of Laurelyn.
“No,” she said. “I’m good.” She looked at Ray.
“Compliments of the gentleman over there.” The bartender nodded toward the pool table.
She turned, as did Ray, and saw one of the pool players toasting her with his drink. He was the loud one who had done the yelling while Ray had been on the phone.
Laurelyn turned back to the bartender. “No thanks. I’m good. Not interested.”
The bartender shrugged and took the drink back. She had turned her back on the pool tables but Ray saw the guy’s face fall and then he looked pissed. He lined up his shot and hit the cue ball so hard it flew off the table.
“I don’t think you’ve made a friend,” he said to Laurelyn.
“I’m not here to get picked up.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said, exaggerating his hurt feelings.
She smiled. “I know. You’re not here to pick anyone up either.”
The pool table guy walked over and Ray caught him out of the corner of his eye. He stepped up to the bar on her right and leaned up against it facing her. He had a smug smile on his face.
Laurelyn saw Ray’s look and sensed what was happening. She stared straight ahead and sipped her drink.
“Hey,” the guy said. “Hey. I sent you a drink. Why’d you return it?”
“I’m not here to get hit on. I’m here with my friend.”
She never looked at him, but her frosty demeanor would chill any guy to the bone. Any guy but this one.
“Too good to accept a friendly gift?”
“Listen, I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not interested. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She turned toward Ray and put her back to the guy.
Pool table boy was not going to be ignored.
“You’re a stuck up bitch. Hey Mike!” he shouted to his buddy who was grinning from ear to ear at the pool table. “She’s an uppity whore. Too good for a simple drink from a simple guy.”
“Hey,” Ray said leaning over her. “Hey! Simple guy. She was polite enough to thank you, now, let it go.”
“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”
“What did you just say to me?”
Pool table guy leaned in closer and spoke slowly. “Shut—the—fuck—up.”
Ray caught Laurelyn shaking her head slowly in his peripheral vision, but his full attention was on the idiot behind her.
“I don’t think…” Ray started to say, but the guy ignored him and put his hand on Laurelyn’s arm.
“At least look at me when…” pool table guy started, but he never got to finish.
Ray watched, astonished, as Laurelyn grabbed the guy’s wrist and twisted outward as she spun in the stool. He bent over out of balance and she brought her knee up into his crotch, doubling him over. She stood and twisted his arm around his back and lifted it so high he was walking on his tiptoes trying to get away fr
om the pain. The sound he was making was a cross between a donkey and a cat in heat.
She kicked his feet out from under him and he went down where she fell on top of his back, his arm still pinned, as she pulled a pair of cuffs from her pocket and held them out to Ray.
“Cuff him,” she said.
Ray sat there. Stunned.
It had taken her less than ten seconds to incapacitate the guy. The whole bar had gone quiet except for the jukebox and pool table guy continuing his weird animal sounds.
“Ray! Cuff him!”
He jumped up, grabbed the cuffs and did the deed.
She stood up and pulled her badge. “Clay County Sherriff. Everybody just keep their places and this will be over soon.”
Pool table guy’s friend, Mike, came over, staggering a bit. “Hey! What the hell lady? He was just trying to buy you a drink.”
“Sir, I suggest you return to your game unless you want to join your friend here.”
“He was just trying to buy you a drink,” he repeated.
“He assaulted a police officer. Now, move it!”
Ray watched Mike shuffle back to the pool table, grumbling and cursing under his breath. His other buddies kept their distance, but eyed Laurelyn with contempt.
“Help me get him up,” she said to Ray who nodded, still stunned at how fast things had changed.
“Anything for a lady.”
She gave him a withering look, but when he smiled, she grinned ever so slightly.
His appreciation of her had just doubled and now he stared at her with something akin to awe. He could tell she wasn’t appreciating the look, so he shut his mouth and bent to grab one side of pool table guy’s arms. One thought kept repeating in his head. She’s a badass. Don’t piss her off.
They got the guy to his feet and the small crowd in the bar actually clapped. All except his friends. Pool table guy glared at her, but said nothing.
“Stay put,” she said.
“Fuck you,” he whispered.
“Watch your mouth, dickweed,” Ray said.
The guy gave him a look that would kill, but said nothing.
His balls must have been killing him, because he couldn’t stand straight. He suddenly turned green and then puked all over the floor. A couple of the patrons laughed, but a few of the girls made disgusted faces and turned away. Having your boys flattened usually led to that physical response.
Ray had been there before, but still felt no pity for the guy. He deserved everything he was getting.
Laurelyn had pulled out her cell phone and had been talking while this went on. “They’re on their way.”
A few minutes later, a couple of patrolmen walked in and took custody of pool table guy. He spat at her as they escorted him away. The patrolman on his right pulled his hands up higher causing him to yell and start to struggle.
“Add resisting arrest to the charges,” Laurelyn yelled after them.
“Anything you say,” the officer said and smiled. They left.
“This has been fun,” she said to Ray, “but I must be going now.”
“That’s too bad. I was just getting to know you.”
She grinned.
“Duty calls. Now that he’s created more work for me, I’m going to make his life miserable for a night. Thanks for the drink.”
“Any time,” Ray said.
She turned and walked away.
“Hey!” He yelled after her. “How about your number? We could do this again.”
She stopped and turned.
“I’m not here to get picked up.”
“Everybody in this room knows that now. I’m not picking you up…tonight.”
She walked back up to him smiling and grabbed his hand. She took a pen from her pocket and wrote a number on his palm.
“Don’t wash it.”
He feigned admiration.
“Never,” and pulled his hand to his chest, cradling it there as if it were gold. She gave him a look, but then smiled.
“Not too soon,” she said.
“I won’t call for at least an hour.”
“Seriously, Ray. Give it a few days to sink in. I’m complicated and I’m betting you don’t need complicated in your life right now.”
“Funny, that’s exactly what I was thinking I needed.”
She smiled and walked away. He looked at the number and turned back to the bar. He grabbed his drink and brought it too his lips, but then stopped. He stared at it for a minute and then put it down.
Pulling bills from his pocket, he paid the tab and then called a cab. He suddenly didn’t feel like drinking anymore and that made him chuckle to himself. Things were looking up.
Chapter 6
Jaxon sat at his kitchen table and stared at everything.
His father’s things covered two-thirds of the tabletop. He picked up the Distinguished Flying Cross and turned it over in his hands, remembering holding it as a boy, his father out in the yard mowing, him in his parents’ closet looking through a box he wasn’t supposed to touch. His dad had come in hot and dirty from the yard and found him with his hands in the cookie jar so to speak. Jaxon had gotten a pretty good scolding.
Years later, when Jaxon was still in the military, and home on leave, he tried to bring up the medals and the box. His old man would have nothing to say about it. Jaxon shrugged it off, wondering why the memory had surfaced in the first place.
The war for his dad was something reproachable and he refused to talk about it. Until six months ago, right before he died. Then the doors opened like floodgates and Jaxon endured hours listening to the man tell his tales. They were amazing and terrifying. Something Jaxon would never forget. The man had been a hero. And hated himself for it.
Vick walked into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table next to him. She picked up a picture of his dad standing next to an airplane in some far off place.
“Maybe Bill mailed it months ago and it got lost,” she said.
“When I type in the tracking number on the website, the origination is local.”
“Here in Orange Park?”
“Jacksonville. A drop off store for the shipping company. You know. One of those places you can take a package to have it shipped.”
“Want me to go there and see if I can turn anything up?”
He put the medal down and took the picture from her hands.
“No. I’ll go there myself. Ray and I have some legwork to do today and I’ll stop in while I’m out. Thanks though.”
She sipped the coffee and he could feel her watching him. He put the picture down and looked up into her eyes.
“I’m ok.”
“I didn’t say anything,” but she smiled.
“You don’t have to. I guess you know me better than I do.”
She grabbed his hand. “I know this is upsetting for you.”
“It’s damn weird is what it is. Who would do this and why?”
“I’m at a loss too. But hey,” she kissed his hand and let it go, “we’re investigators. We’ll figure it out.”
He finally smiled at her, got up from the table and kissed the top of her head.
“I’ll clean this mess up later. Thanks for being you.”
“Thanks for being you.”
“Going to pick up Ray,” and he turned to go.
“Five bucks.”
“Ten. I have faith in him this morning. I don’t know why.”
“Ten it is,” she laughed. “One of these days he’s going to prove me wrong and be awake when you get there.”
“I feel it. Today’s the day.”
“Call me later.”
“Not if I owe you ten I won’t.”
“Call me later,” she repeated.
He shut the house door and opened the garage.
Ray was standing outside waiting. Jaxon grinned.
* * *
“Why are you so chipper?” Jaxon asked as they left the neighborhood.
“I’m my nor
mal self,” Ray said as he came to a full stop at the stop sign. He looked left, right and then left. There was not another vehicle in sight. Jaxon chuckled.
“You drive like an old lady.”
“I’m safe.”
“Ok. You drive like you’re taking your driver’s test.”
“Whatever.” Ray smiled.
“See, you’re chipper. I can’t even get you riled up this morning.”
“So.”
“And you were awake, alert, and waiting for me at my house. When has that ever happened?”
“It happens.”
“Bullshit.” But Jaxon was grinning.
“What was up with Vick and the ten bucks she gave you?”
“Just a running bet we have. I won.”
“That running bet wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?”
“Why would you say that?”
Jaxon turned to look out the window, trying to hide his grin. Ray wasn’t buying it.
“You take bets on if I’m on time or even awake, don’t you?” Ray asked.
“I’ve lost almost fifty bucks because of you. Today, I finally won.”
“You’re buying me coffee then.”
“Deal.”
They stopped at a local convenience store and Jaxon grabbed two large cups of coffee while Ray gassed up his car.
Jaxon picked up the paper and looked over the front page. The murders of Mary Beth Rothstein and her lover were on it. A picture of the house featured police evidence vans, squad cars, and Ray off to the side leaning up against Laurelyn Hawks’ car as she pointed at the house. This must have been taken before Jaxon arrived. He threw the paper on Ray’s lap as he got in the car.
“You’re famous.”
Ray looked it over and handed it back to Jaxon. “Great.”
Ray took the cup of coffee from Jaxon and sipped.
“Anything in the story we should know about?”
Jaxon scanned the article and came across a name that hadn’t been known last night.
“The lover was one Theodore Moore. Twenty-nine year old construction worker.”
He pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Jennings’ Investigations.”
“Vick, do something for me.”
“Shoot.”
Father Figure (A Jaxon Jennings' Detective Mystery Thriller Series, Book 3) Page 4
