by Robena Grant
“Mom,” Janelle called out.
Debbie glanced back. “What?” She kept inching forward, impatient to get outside. She so wanted Jack to be one of the good guys.
Janelle beckoned her. “He’s such a hottie, but you’re coming off all suspicious.”
Debbie stood still. Her heart pounded and almost drowned out the bar noise. “Tell me you didn’t try to set me up.”
“Of course not,” Janelle said, and grinned impishly. “I know he’s different than your usual type.”
“You mean wimps?” Rachel asked, sidling up to them with a huge grin. She bounced her hip against Debbie’s hip. “You can say that again. If she doesn’t want Jack, he’s mine.”
Janelle laughed. “Like Dave will let that happen.”
“Did you talk to him about me?” Debbie asked. A tiny whistle rose from her lungs.
“Not at all, except to give him the brochure. Why?”
Debbie shrugged and tried to keep her cool. “He seemed to know quite a bit about me.” She made a face. “But, I suppose…well, he had been at the meeting this morning.”
“Really?” Rachel asked. “How could I have missed that gorgeous hunk?”
“He slipped out before the questions.” Heat rose up Debbie’s neck. She thought about dolphins, and cool blue water. Janelle grinned, eyes sparkling. Debbie prayed for an intervention. Hell, she’d even approve of a bar fight.
“Ooooh,” Janelle said, and sucked in a breath, her gaze fixed on the front door.
Debbie turned. Fortunately for her, there’d be no more questions from the gals. Dave Stanton, in uniform, walked into the bar beside Jack Davis like they were old buddies.
“Hey, ladies,” Stanton said, and hitched up his Sam Browne.
Debbie gave a quick shake of her head and a half smile. The belt, loaded with the leather pouch-like compartments, almost fell off his hips. He had his gun in the holster and a tazer in the cross draw position. Maybe it wasn’t the weight of the belt, but that his uniform pants were too large. Janelle scooted behind the bar. When she’d seen him in the auditorium she’d thought he’d lost weight.
Stanton did a quick scan of the room, nodded to a couple of patrons then leaned on top of the bar. “Janelle, can I get a diet soda, please?”
“Can I get you some peanuts?” she yelled and slid the soda to him.
“No, thanks, I’ll be leaving in a sec. Shift’s over.” Stanton turned around to face Debbie and Rachel. “This here’s Jack Davis.” He jiggled a thumb in Jack’s direction while he poured his drink. “Jack, this is my gal, Rachel, and her friend Debbie.”
“Yeah…we’ve all kinda met,” Rachel said.
“I didn’t know that.” Stanton frowned. “Jack’s a pal of Zeke Cabrera’s. I met him over there a few days ago. Did he tell you he’s in town looking for farming land?”
Jack lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “It didn’t really come up in conversation. I had a treatment at Ms. Williams’ place this afternoon. And I’ve only recently become acquainted with Rachel.”
Debbie kept her eyes on Jack. “How do you know Zeke?”
“Old college buddies. USC,” Jack said with emphasis, and raised a fist. “Go Trojans.”
“Yeah, and I’m Angelina Jolie’s identical twin,” Debbie muttered.
“Actually, you look more like Reese Witherspoon,” Jack said.
Debbie stared at his lop-sided grin. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But really, he thought she resembled Reese? Cool.
“I met Dave a few nights ago, over at Three C’s,” Jack continued, and propped an elbow on the bar. “We were both dinner guests. When I saw him pull in to Cliffs, I figured I’d stroll back in, have another beer.”
Like he needed more liquor, Debbie thought. Rachel gave her their special look that said this smells like rotting fish. When a man made that much of an explanation he was guilty as all hell…but guilty of what? Debbie eyed Jack covertly. Maybe he was in his late thirties; the same age as Zeke.
“Mom, Rachel,” Janelle said from behind the bar. “Here are your martinis.”
“You’re a doll for sure,” Rachel said, raised the glass and took a slurp.
Debbie put her glass down. She needed to stay alert, this being PI business. She let the guys small talk waft over her. Bullshit, all of it.
Rachel appeared in great form, and entertained them with her quick humor. Debbie thought back to Jack’s supposed friendship with Zeke and Dena Cabrera. It couldn’t be. Dena had been new to the area a year and a half ago, and they’d become firm friends. She told Debbie everything, and always asked for advice on dinner parties, and questioned her about locals. And Dena continued to try to set her up with every single man in town.
Maybe Jack is married. Debbie shot him a quick glance. He didn’t seem the marrying type. She’d play along and let the guys think she believed their story. Deep down she knew Jack must be an undercover cop, and he and Dave were working on the same case. The case she was determined to crack. She had it all figured out. Didn’t she?
Chapter Five
Jack stood with one hand pressed hard on the seat of a barstool, while Debbie’s cool gaze grazed over him. He fixed his sight on the edge of the bar because he sensed her eyes could see right through a man, and he knew she wasn’t buying Dave’s story about him being Zeke Cabrera’s buddy.
It was worth a shot though, and if this Zeke character would play along like Stanton had assured him he would, it might help to keep his undercover assignment undercover, at least for the general community. He fully believed that at least Debbie Williams had him pegged. He knew all about gossip spreading like wildfire in small towns and if he could get the word out that he was an introverted novelist looking for land and peace and quiet, well it might work. A mystery novelist buying property was a good cover.
He lifted his eyes. The three women’s stares were openly inquisitive. They were quite a team. Stanton had confided that all three liked to involve themselves in anything that smacked of mystery. He’d even said Janelle was writing a mystery novel and puffed out his chest with pride, but Jack already knew that. Debbie had connections with Dena Cabrera, the local PI, and also Zeke’s wife. If Debbie asked any more questions tonight he’d be hell out of luck. He gazed into those gray eyes again, and blinked hard. Was that amusement he saw reflecting back at him?
Jack grinned. He’d started to get a feel for this place and these people, hell he even liked weird Stanton. The place felt like home. He shrugged those feelings off quickly. It wasn’t home, it could never be home, and he hadn’t had one of those in years. Besides, his work required a new location every month or two. This could only be temporary.
He’d go over to Three C’s with Dave on Monday morning. Even if Debbie made a call to the Cabrera household the moment he left the bar, Zeke and Dena would have his back. Stanton had already set things up. He could relax. He gave her a lazy smile and she looked away.
“Hey, Janelle, come over here a sec.” Stanton drew himself up to his full height, and crooked a finger.
Janelle finished filling an order, and came to join everyone gathered at the end of the bar. “What’s up?”
“Was there a young guy in here earlier?” Dave asked. “He’s scruffy looking…big grin, and a mouth full of crooked teeth. Calls himself Tigger…or Trigger.”
“Trigger.” Janelle nodded. “He comes in most nights. He’s been in twice today.”
“What do you know about him?”
Janelle shrugged. “Nothing much. He likes sports, and he likes to flirt.”
Jack straddled a bar stool and searched for any sign that she might be lying, or at the very least covering for the guy. She appeared innocent. He liked her, wanted to believe in her, but in his line of work he trusted nobody.
“Do you know him from high school?” Dave asked.
“No. I’ve never seen him, at least not before a couple of nights ago.” She glanced down the bar to where Trigger had been standing earlier, then back at
them. “What’s this about?” She turned toward Jack. “You sat next to him this afternoon. You two were talking.”
“That’s right, I forgot.”
Dave turned toward him. “What did you talk about?”
Jack played along, scratched the back of his neck, and took his time before answering. “Can’t quite remember…he was watching a Lakers replay…oh, yeah he introduced himself as Larry Trigg, but he said everyone around here knew him as Trigger.”
“And?” Dave asked.
“We discussed the town. He said he grew up here, and had lived here all of his life.”
“That’s an outright lie,” Dave said, his voice indignant, his chest puffed out.
Jack almost grinned. The two of them had stood outside and discussed how the questioning would go. They figured Trigger could be a drug dealer, but small time. Still, Jack refused to overlook even the slightest hint of a clue that related to Juan’s death. And Trigger seemed to have a good understanding of both the murder, and what was happening in the drug trade in the southwest.
“I’ve never heard of him, or any family of that last name.” Dave swung around and glared at Rachel and Debbie. “Either one of you gals know the name, Trigg?”
Jack raised his beer glass and watched them from over the rim. They both shook their heads.
“What’s this about?” Rachel asked and glowered up into Dave’s face. She went to poke Dave’s chest with one finger. Dave caught it, and laughed. “If there’s anything going on that could affect my business, or my license, I need to damn well know.”
“Calm down, hon, it’s police business,” Debbie said. “Keep your voice down.”
“Freakin’ riff-raff, coming into my bar.”
“Debbie’s right.” Stanton put a hand gently on Rachel’s upper arm. She shook it off and scowled. “It’s got nothing to do with the bar. I’m following up on a lead.” He turned to Janelle. “Will you do me a favor, kiddo’?”
“Sure. What?”
“If this guy comes back in, will you give me a call? I’ve got a few questions I want to ask him.”
“No problem,” Janelle said. “Do you want me to alert everyone else in the bar to be on the lookout?”
Dave shook his head. “I’d rather keep things between us, for the time being. I’ll be back on duty for the early shift tomorrow. Call me.”
“Tonight, when he was in, he was with another male,” Janelle said. “The guy was pretty slick looking, but in a sophisticated way. You know, like a model from GQ magazine. But I like Trigg. He’s a nice guy.”
Debbie’s posture stiffened. Jack sensed she worried about her daughter’s safety. She clenched and unclenched her right hand. The sudden urge to comfort her swept through him. He wasn’t good at the whole support and comforting thing. Not anymore. Ten years ago, maybe then he would have been. He moved restlessly around in his bar seat, and almost whacked Rachel’s leg with his boot.
“Watch it with those pointy-toed boots, Jack. They’re weapons,” Rachel said, and glared. “Nice, but lethal…are they lizard?”
Jack nodded, and put his feet back on the brass foot rung.
“This won’t put Janelle in any harm, will it?” Debbie asked her voice soft and shaky.
Trigger’s parting comment that afternoon, “our Janelle is quite a looker,” filtered through Jack’s memory, temporarily blocking out all other conversation. He rolled that thought around for a moment or two, aware of the slight tremor of warning that had crept up his spine earlier. He’d do everything in his power not to let the young man anywhere near Debbie’s daughter.
Dave grimaced and shook his head. “Women!” he said. “No, it won’t put Janelle in harm. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then can you tell us what you want to talk to him about?” Debbie asked, her voice going even lower as she moved closer. “Is it to do with the Dumpster murder?”
Dave raised both hands. “It’s confidential, ladies. Police business…young hoodlum stuff, okay?”
“He didn’t strike me as being that way,” Janelle said. “He’s really intelligent. But I suppose you never can tell these days.” She shrugged. “Do you think he’s into drug trafficking?”
“Look, I’ve said enough. Thanks for the soda.” Dave said. “See you later, Rachel?”
Rachel shot him a sour look. “Yeah…maybe.”
“Have they identified the murdered man yet?” Debbie asked, touching Stanton’s arm.
Jack tensed.
Dave jutted his lips out, shook his head. “Nope. Probably never will. You know how the Latinos come back and forth across our borders. It could take months, years even, before anyone reports him missing. And they’re a damn closed-mouth community.”
Rachel nodded. “Tough way to die, though, and it sure doesn’t give us locals any peace of mind knowing the murderer is still out there. Hell, he could be in my bar right now.” She glared around the room.
Jack ran his hand over the moisture on the side of his beer glass. He paid attention in a casual offbeat way. Maybe these crazy women were his connection. It couldn’t hurt and they all seemed smart enough. “If it makes you feel any better,” Jack said slowly. “I’ll spend my non-golfing, non-real-estate hunting hours in the bar. I’ll watch over you gals like a hawk.”
“Good idea, Jack,” Dave said. He slapped him on the shoulder. “Talk sports and stuff with the locals, ’specially that Trigger guy, if he comes back in. Don’t get too personal and scare him off though. Well, I’m on my way. And I’ll see you at Three C’s on Monday.”
“Sure.” Jack sat up straighter. “And it won’t be a problem for me to hang out here. But it sounds like—from what you ladies have said—telling the truth isn’t high on Trigger’s list.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Hah!”
Debbie took a slow sip of her martini and then put the glass down. “He might trip himself up.”
He liked her way of thinking. That was precisely what he was hoping for. “Anyway, glad to be of help, Dave.” Jack slid off the barstool and stood, grabbed his leather jacket and shrugged it on.
“Yeah, sure,” Dave said, from halfway across the room. “Call me anytime.”
“You’re leaving, too?” Rachel asked. “Where the hell’s our protection going?”
“Yes. It’s been um…interesting.” Jack scratched at the side of his jaw. “I need to get dinner and some shut-eye.”
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you Deb?” Rachel asked, and turned toward Debbie who shook her head. “Neither have I. So Jack, come on in the back. I’ll have the chef send us over whatever you want. It’s on the house.”
Jack was about to turn down the offer, but the wide-eyed look of horror Debbie shot toward her friend would make it all worthwhile. Maybe even fun. “Thank you Rachel, I’d be delighted.” He reached over, and touched her elbow as he stood. “Lead the way.”
Rachel linked an arm through his. He smiled his most charming smile, and left Debbie to tag along behind them.
****
Debbie entered Rachel’s crowded office, and made certain to sit at the small table opposite Jack. Rachel, ever the flirt, didn’t seem to mind in the least that she had to sit next to him. In fact, she pulled her chair so close to Jack, Debbie felt certain their thighs must be rubbing, or they were knocking knees. But she wouldn’t look. She kept her head down and perused the menu, although she knew it by heart. There’d been many meals shared with Rachel in this back room.
“You want the usual, Deb?” Rachel asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for.”
“The veal piccata is great, Jack,” Rachel said, turning to him. “Unless you’d rather have a steak, in which case, the porterhouse is outstanding.”
“I’ll go for the porterhouse.”
“I’m eating light. It’s late, and I want to do the hike in the morning,” Debbie said. She put down her menu and found Rachel eyeing her with amusement. “I’ll have the Caesar salad with chicken,
and a diet soda.”
Rachel grinned. “Yeah, I figured…the usual.” She spoke over the intercom to the kitchen, and placed the orders.
Jack sat back. Debbie held his gaze with defiance. Who does he think he is?
He tapped out a knuckle beat on the table top. “So the guy in the stained apron, the one who ran over to your spa to see why I was waiting to speak to you, is he a boyfriend?” Jack asked.
Rachel roared with laughter.
About to respond, Debbie heard Janelle’s soft voice come over the intercom. “He’s back. Alone. Ordered a beer, and said he’s in a hurry. He asked me out, too.”
Rachel pressed the reply button and whispered, “You mean that Trigger guy?”
“Yes.” Janelle said softly. “Ask Jack what he wants me to do. Dave is off duty.”
“Hang on, hon.” Rachel relayed the message.
Debbie jumped up. Nobody had anticipated Trigger would come back in tonight. And no way in hell was Janelle going out with a guy named Trigger. Her heart rate increased and she felt damp perspiration around her hairline. “Come on Jack.” She grabbed his hand. “Cancel those orders Rachel. I’ll take you through the side door and around to the front. We’ll pretend we’re on a date, and go see what’s up.”
“Excellent idea,” Jack said, and a grin spread across his face.
Doofus, this isn’t about him. She almost dragged him across the room. He half-turned. “Rachel, tell Janelle to stall him for as long as she can.”
“Through here.” Debbie pulled in a deep breath, and indicated the door they should take. Without a word she walked beside him, gripped his hand, and heat seared through her palm. Desire spread through her and she wanted to intertwine her fingers with his, stroke his arm, his shoulders, and press against his chest, grind against his pelvis to relieve the incredible hot, bubbling itch. This was so all about him.
Oh hush, she silently warned her libido.
“You okay?” Jack asked softly.
She gulped, nodded.
“Follow along, be natural. I’ll do most of the talking,” he said, and held her hand tighter.
She knew he sensed her anxiety, but hopefully he thought her nervousness was about speaking with Trigger, and not that she’d had such a reaction to him. She worked hard at calming herself, a difficult task, due to the warmth from his hand seeping into hers and creating little jolts of electricity.
