Dirty

by Debra Webb

  Mary Jane remained oddly quiet, even after a second drink. That worried me but we all had our off days.

  “The man I need to snare, professionally speaking, is far too slippery to trap by any conventional methods,” I began.

  “Oooo! I love unconventional,” Shari chimed in.

  “So I’m going to go through an associate of his.”

  Donna slapped her thigh. “Hot dog! I love it! Triangles are the best.”

  I was banking on that.

  “The strongest connection this associate and I had was in the sack,” I explained. “I figure that’s the place to get him.”

  “We need a profile,” Shari suggested. “You know, like those FBI agents use to interrogate certain suspects.”

  Exactly.

  “Well, that’s easy,” Donna offered as she set her drink aside. “Give me a list of his personality traits.” She gave me a look that said don’t even try to lie out of this. “Let’s cut to the chase here. You’re talking about Willis, right?”

  I should have known I wouldn’t be able to keep that part a secret. “That’s right, but that’s all I can tell you. The whole situation is too unpredictable right now. I don’t want to take the risk.” I didn’t like holding back like this, but there were too many variables and I refused to endanger my friends. I might be annoyed at Hank, but he had a point. Two people were dead already. “I hope you understand.”

  Faces turned somber but all heads nodded in agreement. Mary Jane popped up from the sofa. “I’ll get a pen and paper.”

  I relaxed a little more when she jumped into the fray and started to act more like herself.

  The next hour was spent ticking off the traits I had noticed about Willis, doing a lot of laughing, and analyzing what his every move and every comment said about him.

  The consensus was unanimous. Willis was a man who might have been great had he not gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Now, with his self-preservation instincts in high gear, he was a puppet. A puppet I intended to use.

  The plan was simple. I would set up the perfect seduction and suck his brain for information on Brooks while leaving his dick to wither all on its own. And planting the right seeds to prompt a response out of Brooks.

  “There’s one more thing I need,” I said, feeling like a lowdown dirty dog for taking this tactic. But I had to be sure. I looked from one to the other knowing I could trust these women with my very life. “I need someone keeping an eye on my uncle at all times.”

  That stunned silence I’d gotten after telling the cemetery story permeated the room all over again.

  Donna came to terms with what my request meant before anyone else. “I know how much you love your uncle, Jackie, so I’m not even going to ask why. Just tell me what I need to do.”

  Relief lifted the rock from my chest. “I’m afraid he’s trying to protect me and that need to do so is coloring his objectivity...might even get him hurt.”

  “I’m in,” Shari interjected, her face looking more worried than I’d ever seen it.

  “Me, too,” Mary Jane piped up.

  “Just keep under his radar,” I told them, “and stay on his tail. I need to know where he goes and who he talks to. Nothing more. Don’t try to get close to him. Don’t try to listen in on any conversations. Just tell me who and where, that’s it.”

  Heads bobbed up and down.

  “Starting tonight if possible.” That could be a toughie since it was Saturday night.

  Mary Jane raised her hand. “I can do tonight. I don’t have a date.”

  God bless the woman. “Thanks, Mary Jane. I really appreciate it.”

  “You will tell us everything,” Donna pinned me down, “when this is over?”

  As I made that promise my doorbell rang and we all glanced at the clock at the same time.

  “Oh Lord!” Shari jumped up. “It’s after nine. I have to meet...” she waggled her eyebrows “...someone.”

  While I trudged to the door Shari exchanged goodbyes with the others. She sounded excited. Must have a night with yoga guy on her itinerary.

  I opened the door without checking the peep hole first since I wasn’t alone and I had too much of a buzz going to be afraid. Besides, I was packing Shorty in my waistband.

  “I hope I’m not intruding.”

  Dawson.

  Shit. I looked like hell.

  “Who’s this?” Shari purred from behind me. She knew damn well who he was. I’d described him in infinite detail days ago.

  “Come on in,” I said to Dawson.

  He stepped across the threshold as if he feared he might be about to enter enemy territory. If he only knew.

  I closed the door and leaned against it. No need to hurry. Shari had already grabbed him by the arm and hauled him toward the others who all stood in anticipation of meeting my new partner.

  My heart foolishly skipped a beat, as was par for the course in his presence. And as usual, he looked too damned good for my own good. Body hugging jeans and a loosely tucked in button-down shirt that left everything to the imagination. But one look at the muscled forearms revealed by the rolled up shirt sleeves and the imagination went wild.

  And I, I glanced down at myself, looked like a slob.

  What the hell? It was better this way. If I couldn’t ward him off one way, I would another. Besides, what rational woman wanted to compete with the memory of a supermodel? I had just enough JD in me to not give a shit about Mercedes whatever-the-fuck-her-name was.

  I pushed off the door at the same time he introduced himself. “Dawson,” he said in that perfectly pitched for temptation voice, “Derrick Dawson. I work with Jac–I’m Ms. Mercer’s new investigator.”

  Donna fluttered her lashes. I witnessed it all the way across the room. She’d already known his name when she asked. “Jackie’s told us all about you, Derrick.”

  God, she called him Derrick.

  He shifted his attention to me when I moved up behind the others crowded around him. “I didn’t know you had company.”

  That would be the truth. The girls had opted to share a taxi so that having to drive when they left wouldn’t cut into how much alcohol they consumed.

  “It’s okay.” I tucked my hands into my back pockets. “Is there something you need?”

  Dawson was momentarily distracted by Donna’s examination of the fabric content and manufacturer of his shirt, which could only be found on the label.

  “I adore this shirt, Derrick. It’s so hot.”

  He smiled but it wasn’t his full-blown charmer. “Thanks.”

  Shari walked all the way around him, visually sizing him up. “You work out, Derrick?”

  Jesus. You’d think these gals had never seen a good looking guy.

  Mary Jane scooted up close to me as Dawson discussed his workout routine with Shari, who couldn’t have cared less. My guess was she, like Donna, just wanted to hear him talk.

  “Wow, Jackie, he’s gorgeous,” Mary Jane whispered. Her arm went around mine. “I don’t see how you resist him.”

  “It’s important that I keep our relationship strictly professional,” I whispered back. “I need him, Mary Jane.” That fatally flawed organ in my chest did another of those totally stupid little skips.

  “Umm-hmm,” she murmured, understanding that I meant in a business capacity. At least I hoped she did.

  When I looked up Dawson was watching me though Shari and Donna were still vying for his full attention.

  If I’d had any doubts whatsoever about how much trouble I was in when it came to him, the idea dissipated then and there. Not once in my life, not even as a freshman losing my virginity to the football star I idolized, had I gotten so lost in anyone’s eyes. He turned away, breaking the spell, and responded to something Donna said.

  “He likes you a lot, Jackie,” Mary Jane whispered. “The way he looks at you.” I didn’t look at her, afraid she’d see the same wistful expression on my face. “No,” she amended, “he doesn’t just like you. He
wants you.”

  The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze again until the sinking sensation had passed. “No, Mary Jane. Remember, who his last girlfriend was.”

  She shook her head. “Think about it, Jackie, the two of you almost died in each other’s arms the other night. And even then neither of you could resist the temptation.”

  I broke away from my dear friend who clearly meant well but had to be wrong. Really, really wrong.

  “Shari, didn’t you say you had a date?” I had the glowing woman halfway to the door before she realized she’d moved.

  “My God, Jackie, he’s incredible,” she said under her breath when we paused at the door.

  I nodded. “Thanks. Hobbs says a guy like him will bring in a lot of new clients.”

  Her eyes rounded. “I can be a client.” She nodded vigorously before her expression went from excited to stricken. “I mean, that is, if you don’t mind.”

  “If you need a PI, he’s your guy.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sure I have something that needs looking into.”

  “Good night, Shari.” I opened the door then remembered the girls had arrived in a taxi. My hopes of ending this Dawson fest plummeted. “Damn. We’ll have to call you a cab.”

  “I’ve got the cab driver’s number!” Mary Jane waved a small piece of paper. “Tyrone said for us to call him whenever we’re ready to go.”

  Donna looked up, clearly disheartened at the idea of leaving Derrick. “I guess I’m ready if everyone else is.”

  By the time the cab arrived Donna knew more about Dawson than I did. The woman was relentless. She should have been a lawyer like Shari or maybe a prosecutor. Tossing me a covert wink as she left, Mary Jane promised to keep me posted on my uncle.

  I waved one last time as the cab drove away, then closed the door. If Dawson had come to talk about the case, I didn’t want to go there. I’d promised myself some down time. I needed some space to clear my head...to get right with the past as well as the plans the girls and I had hatched up.

  “Your friends are...” he looked at the floor a moment “...something else.”

  That was a politely adequate description.

  I gathered my femme fatale attitude around me like a shield as I approached him. That he watched my every move put one chink after the other in my fortitude.

  “They apparently thought the same about you,” I said, taking my serve.

  The lopsided grin that gave him some kind of super power over the opposite sex made an appearance. “I like the shirt.”

  It was an ancient, ragged tee with holes...heat rushed up my neck and across my cheeks. One particular hole showed off my under breast cleavage, mainly because it was just supposed to be me and the girls tonight so I’d dispensed with the bra. I crossed my arms to cover it.

  “What do you want, Dawson?”

  It didn’t take a lip reader to see that his mouth had formed the word “you” even before the sound had left his lips. I swore silently. Mary Jane’s totally off base comments had me making mountains out of molehills.

  “You can’t leave me out of any aspect of this case,” he urged. “I’ll be the first to admit that this is intensely personal for me, but I need to see it through.”

  We’d had this conversation already.

  “I said I wouldn’t leave you out.” It wasn’t until that moment that I realized just how tired I was. “You have to trust me, Dawson.”

  “I guess I needed to hear you say that after you’d had time for everything to sink in.”

  I felt confident his everything included my uncle’s evasive behavior but I wasn’t prepared to go into that with him. My uncle was innocent until proven guilty. I had to know more before I formed an opinion. Suddenly exhausted, I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”

  He nodded, averted those amazing blue eyes that could run up and down a woman with the same intensity as a full body search. “I’ll get out of your way then.”

  I followed him to the door trying my level best not to stare at his ass.

  I opened the door and propped against it. “G’night.”

  He gestured to the street. “I’ll be right out there if you need me.”

  I was so damned tired I barely worked up the necessary frustration to argue, “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can,” he admitted as he glanced at the .38 in my waistband. His frame filled my doorway, his entire posture giving off a whole different vibe from the words he said. That I could deal with, but then he hit me below the belt. His gaze dropped to my lips.

  Not good.

  “I’m not inviting you to stay the night, Dawson.” I looked him straight in the eye so there was no miscommunication. “And I’m not having sex with you, now or ever. Capish?”

  A ghost of a smile appeared at one corner of that carnal mouth. “Capish. I’ll be out here anyway.”

  A glutton for punishment I watched him walk away. Didn’t close the door until he’d climbed into his truck. What a great ass. With buns of steel like that it was a miracle he didn’t set off metal detectors.

  Once I had closed the door, I sagged against it and kicked myself repeatedly but I just couldn’t not do what I knew was right.

  “I am the biggest fool on the planet,” I said as I stomped off to the linen closet. “A complete sucker.”

  With a blanket and pillow in hand, I retraced the path to the front door, then marched, barefoot, out to his truck.

  He opened the door and got out just as I reached that side of the street. I’d have given every cent in my checking account, which, granted, wasn’t that much but you get the idea, if he’d just stayed in the truck and rolled down the window.

  The moon was full, shone down brightly enough for me to see the look of surprise on his face. “Sometimes it gets chilly at night,” I offered as an excuse for my actions.

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  I shoved the bundle at him to avoid contact of any sort.

  “Thanks.”

  I wouldn’t say you’re welcome. It would be kind of like pretending I was glad to have done it. I wasn’t glad, I was annoyed at myself. So, I turned around and walked back to the house without saying another word. Would have been able to put the whole idea that he was out there out of my thoughts had I not looked back one last time as I closed the door.

  And he was still watching me...watching every move I made.

  I locked the door and turned out all the lights but one. I didn’t want him watching my silhouette as I shuffled around the house. I didn’t need him out there. But he was there and even with the walls separating us, I could feel his presence.

  Finally, my fury kicked in, a little late. I finished off the drink I’d left on the table and cleaned up my living room with nothing but the aid of the one light reaching feebly from the hall. I swore once or twice as I stubbed my toe but the overall numbness provided by the JD helped tremendously.

  After brushing my teeth I shucked my jeans and climbed into bed still wearing my Cowboys tee-shirt and with Shorty tucked under my pillow. I needed to sleep. Needed to clear all the static from my brain.

  The telephone rang.

  Damn.

  But it could be Steven. I was still praying he’d make the right decision regarding his father’s offer-a flat out no being the answer I considered correct.

  I dragged the receiver to the pillow. “Mercer.”

  “Jackie, it’s Mom.”

  I sat up. “You okay?” My heart kicked into a faster rhythm. What was it with her and the sudden late night calls?

  “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. You sounded out of sorts when I called last time to apologize for forgetting lunch.”

  “I’m fine, Mom.” I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my chin there. Actually she was the one who’d hung up in such a hurry. “How about you? You seemed preoccupied yourself.” Translation: why’d you hang up so fast?

/>   “I’m fine,” she said. A slurping sound vibrated in my ear.

  I stared at the receiver. Swapped hands and stuck my finger in my ear to clear it. What the hell was that?

  “...just busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest,” Mom was saying. “But that’s the way I like it. It’s you I worry about. Hobbs mentioned that you were really caught up in this case you’re working on.”

  Hobbs. Just one more reason to want to strangle him. “Mom, I’m a private investigator. This is what I—”

  The rest of what I intended to say was cut off by another of those strange gurgling gulps.

  “What is that?” I demanded, certain now that it was coming from my mother’s end of the line.

  “Oops, sorry, dear.” She cleared her throat as if she’d swallowed a whole pond of frogs.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Fine, fine,” she assured me. “I’m just practicing for the next Ladies Auxiliary meeting.”

  What the hell were they practicing for? Hocking loogies?

  “Practicing what?” I asked, unable to quash my curiosity.

  “How to give a proper blow job.”

  I opened my mouth to ask her to repeat the answer but somehow I couldn’t speak.

  “It’s all the rage. So many of the husbands can’t keep it up anymore. We’re learning to give head to help out. Although, this cucumber is a little larger than I’d intended,” she added thoughtfully. “I’ll have to drop by the SafeWay and get a different one in the morning. According to Blanche I need the practice.”

  Ooooo-kay. I rubbed at the damned wrinkles marring my forehead and tried to block the image of my mother fondling cucumbers in the produce department, much less giving anyone head. “What about the women?” I croaked, unsure what else to say that sounded halfway intelligent. “What do you girls get out of this?”

  Mother laughed. “Oh, we’ve already done the vibrator workshop. It’s amazing what’s on the market these days. I bought myself a silver bullet. You can use it anywhere. Even in line at Starbucks.”

  Too much information. The visuals inserting into my thoughts as she spoke were too, too much. “Mom, you don’t even have a husband.” Hell, I thought she professed to be closed down for business. “Why do you need to know how to give a blow job?” Her comment about Blanche popped back into my head, kind of annoyed me. “And since when did you start caring what people like Blanche have to say?”