by Mandy Harbin
“I-I don’t think so.” She shook her head, picking up her soda and drinking thirstily.
“Why?” Roxie’s lower lip actually fell into a pout, but then her eyes narrowed. “Is it because of Brutus? You still haven’t told me what happened with him. Did he let you play find the sausage?” She laughed, and Xan had to cover her mouth to keep from spewing her Dr. Pepper.
“You’re crazy,” she said, chuckling. “He came by to tell me my car was ready. I told you that already.”
“You’re no fun.” She harrumphed. “But come out with me tomorrow night, and I’ll make sure you have the time of your life.”
“I’ll pass,” Xan said, turning to watch the game, thankful it was starting back up.
She already had one man she didn’t fully understand. She could do without a horde of them falling drunk all over her.
Brody stared at his computer screen, researching the agents Gauge had found who’d worked Xan’s case back in the day. Jack Parsons had been a model employee, excelling on all his reports. He’d worried it was a sign of overachievement to cover the star agent’s dirty work, but he was a pessimist and couldn’t find anything to even hint at the agent being the mole. Jack Parsons had been a bust, but Brody was actually a little relieved by this. He hated the idea of her current agent being on the take.
Dave Simmons, on the other hand, was shady. He’d been her first agent after Collins got sent away to prison, and after much digging, Brody found out that the guy had actually put her and Scott in Prairie County, Arkansas for her first move. Besides that being a little funny, considering she wasn’t much of a country girl, it seemed odd since that was where Agent Simmons was originally from. He’d resigned a couple of years after placing her there, retiring to a farm in none other than Prairie County, Arkansas. Why put his ward someplace where she could be connected to him? That was only one question. His other question was why did the guy’s bank account show a $250,000 deposit two weeks before his retirement? Those two things put the guy on Brody’s short list of suspects.
He kept researching the names of guys assigned to her. There’d been ten of them at one time. He’d found enough information on Charlie Bevin, Ezekiel Ramon, Adam Perry, William Bowers, Brian Warner, Mike Shannon, and Henry Walker to feel confident that they’d had nothing to do with Collins finding out about Xan turning evidence. Those guys had either initiated or led major arrests in similar cases and were either now politicians with strong platforms against crime, retired after more years of service, or supervised departments. Of course, arresting members of other crime families could’ve been a smoke screen, a diversion while working for Collins, but none of those guys had any suspicious money in their accounts or any other links to Collins.
Jeff Coleman, Luke Riley, and Paul Sellers, on the other hand, warranted a deeper investigation. Brody couldn’t find any information on any of these guys since Collins’ attempt on Xan’s life. Realizing he needed help, he pulled out his cell and hit Gauge’s number.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Hey, man. I’m going over these guys you told me about and need some help. I got three targets I can’t nail down. Can you see what you can find?”
“No problem. Names?”
“Jeff Coleman, Luke Riley, and Paul Sellers.”
There was a brief pause of silence, and Brody assumed it was because Gauge was writing down the info.
“What about the others?”
“They check out. At least enough for me. What about you? Find anything questionable on any of them?”
“Nope. So far, they’re clean, but I hadn’t got to the three you named or Charlie Bevin and Adam Perry.”
“Bevin’s a town mayor and Perry heads up the child pornography division at the FBI. I think they’re clean. Let’s look at these other three.”
“You got it. Oh, before I forget,” Gauge said suddenly. “Mimi Rochelle stopped by the shop after you left. Said she needed help with her garbage disposal. Wanted you to do it.” He chuckled.
Brody sighed. “I’ll take a look at it tomorrow.”
“Be nice to her, man. She’s lonely,” Gauge chided.
She wasn’t lonely. She was a loner. Big difference. She’d come to terms with her husband’s death several years ago. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll catch ya later.”
Brody hung up and stalked to his kitchen for a beer. He didn’t have time to fool with a garbage disposal. He had to find those other three missing agents.
And maybe squeeze in a visit to Former Agent Dave Simmons in Prairie County, Arkansas.
Chapter Ten
Xan awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and the sun shining through the cracks of her window blinds. She wasn’t much of a morning person, but she felt lighter than she had in years. She rolled over, stretching her lazy body and looked dreamily at the clock.
Noon? She jerked into a sitting position. Shit, no wonder she felt good. She’d slept for twelve hours.
She hopped out of the bed, grabbing her robe and rushing to the bathroom. Her car was ready, so she wanted to make sure she looked perfect when she picked it up.
Because she’d get to see Brody. She wasn’t in denial as to why she wanted to look good.
She took a quick shower, scrubbing her body, shaving her legs and washing her hair, then threw on her robe and began her search for the perfect outfit. Skirt? No, too obvious. Jeans? Too dang hot. Capris? Too soccer momish. Shorty slut-girl shorts? Hmmm, just right. She paired it with a lightweight, fitted tee to tone down the effect and some comfy sandals. She dried her hair, fixing it just right, hoping the humidity wouldn’t demolish all her hard work, and put on some makeup, praying she wouldn’t sweat it off before she got there.
She walked down the hall, hearing Scott playing his new video game. She knocked on his door and opened it when he called out.
“Hey, I’m going to pick up the car. You want anything while I’m out?”
“No, I’m straight.”
Huh? That was out of nowhere. What did his sexual orientation have to do with anything? She’d already figured out he was straight because he had a girlfriend. Maybe he was overcompensating and wasn’t really into girls? She gave him a puzzled look while he concentrated on his game, thinking she needed to have a mother-son moment. “Sweetheart,” she whispered, stepping into his room. “I hope you know it wouldn’t matter to me if you were gay, though I’m pleased you feel comfortable talking to me about your sexual preference.” She paused, waving her finger. “But you’re too young to have sex, regardless if it’s with a girl or another guy.”
Scott’s head shot up. “What are you talking about, Mom? I’m not gay. What made you think to ask me that?”
Her brow furrowed. “You just blurted you were straight for no reason, Scott.”
He busted out laughing. “You’re such a dork, Mom. That means I’m fine.”
“Oh,” she muttered, feeling a blush tinge her cheeks. “Okay, well, I’m off.” No reason to stand around and be the butt of a teenage joke. No doubt he’d be laughing about this with Chad later.
She made her exit and got into her rental, humming to herself as she drove the short distance to the garage. When she arrived, she parked the car next to the overhead doors, noticing Brody’s Harley parked under a tree, and got out. Clutching her purse, she strode into the lobby and looked around. She heard the sounds of hydraulic lifts and those air gun thingies she’d seen on NASCAR when the cars were in the pits getting their tires changed. There was also some rock music blaring in the background, someone else she’d never heard of, reminding her of her ride in Brody’s truck, making her smile.
She hoped she didn’t look too obvious as she scoped out the place, searching for her Viking, but when her eyes connected to Roc’s, she quickly jerked away. She didn’t know what it was about him, but he made her feel uneasy. She chanced another look at the bays, seeing him walk her way.
Shit.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as he neared.
&nb
sp; He stepped up to her, handing her an envelope, which jingled. She opened it and glanced inside. It was an invoice and her keys. Her heart sank as she looked up at him, wondering why he was tending to her and not Brody.
“What was wrong with it?” she asked, staring him straight in the eye. She wouldn’t let him see her disappointment.
“Radiator. Among many other things. It’s all in the invoice.”
She nodded, holding out the rental keys. “Here. Bro—er—Brutus said I could just leave the rental here.”
He took the keys and nodded. He stared coldly at her, but then his lips turned into a sneer. “I’ll take ’em. Brody’s over at Mimi’s.”
“Mimi?” she breathed, not meaning to, but trying to process the words he’d said.
“Yeah, he goes over there a lot, though I don’t think he’s been over much since you hit town. Mimi must’ve noticed the coincidence because she came up here yesterday while he was giving you the news ’bout your car. She left word for him, and he went running over.” Roc shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, giving her an evil smile. “He left this morning and ain’t been back.”
She’d only thought her heart sank earlier. Now it plummeted. Her too-snug shorts made her feel naked in front of this jerk who was obviously trying to get a rise out of her. She had difficulty breathing, but inhaled through her nose to keep her head from spinning.
“Okay, well, if I have any problems I’ll let you know.”
He was over at Mimi’s? Been there all morning? That only meant one thing, and she refused to think about that. She didn’t need to be hit over the head to realize he was fucking that skank. It wasn’t as if they were exclusive, though she was. Brody was only the second man she’d ever had sex with, and she’d married the first one and gone twelve years since letting the other one have a crack at her.
He was over at Mimi’s? She stewed on her way to her car. At least the son of a bitch had it washed. She opened the door and climbed in, realizing the inside was spotless too. It didn’t look like a brand-new car, but it looked better than it had in the ten years she’d had it.
He. Was. Over. At. Mimi’s. She would not ask Roxie where that skank-whore lived. She drove back home, ignoring how smooth her car drove, fighting the…what? Tears? Anger?
Jealousy. That’s what she was fighting. You know what? Fine. He didn’t want to be exclusive, then two could play that game.
She didn’t need to be jealous of some skank-whore-bitch sinking her claws into that man. There were plenty of other men in this state. It wasn’t as if Xan wasn’t attractive. She was fit with highlighted blonde hair and blue eyes. Some might even consider her a catch.
She pulled into her driveway and stalked over to Roxie’s house, pounding on the door. Her neighbor opened it immediately.
“Hey, girl. Everything all right?”
“You still going out tonight?” she asked in a terse voice.
Roxie’s immediate smile glowed. “Sure are. You comin’?”
“Yeah, count me in.” It was time she let some men go fishing. Maybe the next one who caught her would appreciate the catch that she was.
After getting out of the shower for the second time today, Xan found herself staring at her clothes—the ones she ran out and bought after talking to Roxie. This time, she wouldn’t be toning down anything. Short leather skirt? Oh yeah. Knee-high stiletto boots? Come to momma. The tight-ass, see-though, nude-color lacy tank top paired with her black demi-bra was just whorish enough to complete the ensemble. She curled her hair and loosely pulled it up, leaving wispy hairs everywhere that accented her big hoop earrings. She gave her eyes a smoky look, making the blue color stand out, and finished up with some shiny gloss.
Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she smiled, squeezing her breasts. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve taken you out on the town,” she murmured. “But we’re having some fun tonight, girls. Make me proud.” Sometimes, it was great being a woman.
She walked out and grabbed her purse, silently thanking the fact that Scott wasn’t home. He’d made plans to stay the night with Chad after they went out with their girlfriends, and he’d left before she’d hopped into the shower. She was not ashamed by the way she was dressed, but there were just some things a boy shouldn’t see. His mom dressed like a hooker probably came in second on that list, right after seeing his mom have sex.
Xan jumped when her phone rang. She knew Roxie was coming over here, so she knew it wouldn’t be her calling. Xan looked at the number and frowned. It was unknown. She didn’t want to take the risk of it being Brody but knew she didn’t have a choice but to answer it. It could be her son calling from someplace.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Ms. Bradley. It’s Agent Jack Parsons.”
She sighed, her hand lifting to her heart and feeling it pound widely in relief at her not having to confront Brody right now. She chuckled at her silly reaction. “I’ve told you to call me Xan. I really like it, and as many times as my name has changed, that’s saying a lot.”
He laughed too, so that was a good sign. “Xan. Um, I just wanted to check up on you and give you an update.”
“Oh, well, I’m good. I had a minor panic attack after the news of Marco’s release, but Scott stepped up to the plate and calmed me down. Oh, and some hoodlum tried to run me over, but other than that, I’m good.” Besides the Viking asshole who fucked me and then fucked me over. Though Xan was pretty sure that wasn’t what Jack had been asking about.
“Yes, I’d heard about that, and I’m glad you’re okay. As for Marco Collins, your feelings are to be expected.” He cleared his throat. “Speaking of him, he showed up in Michigan and reunited with his father, which was what we had anticipated. He hasn’t made a move yet, but I want you to know you’re covered. We’ve got people watching you.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me which FBI agents are watching me?”
She heard a gasp and whirled, seeing Roxie stare at her in disbelief. Shit, shit, shit. How the hell had she gotten in? Scott. After all these years, the boy should know better than to leave a door unlocked. But right now was not the time to dwell on what a teenager should or shouldn’t be doing.
“You know I can’t do that, Xan.” But she barely heard him over the blood rushing in her ears. How much had Roxie heard?
As Xan watched her, she knew the answer to that. Enough. Roxie had heard enough. This was a big clusterfuck.
“Look, Jack. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked suddenly. The agent had a nose for danger, but the only danger now was to her cover, and to a woman known to enjoy a little gossip.
“I’m good. If not, I’ll let you know.” She hung up without letting him needle her. It wasn’t as if she could explain what was going on with Roxie standing ten feet from her listening to every word uttered.
She put her phone in her handbag and leveled a stare at Roxie, who was uncharacteristically quiet. Xan could play this one of two ways—she could confront Roxie about the phone call or pretend she hadn’t heard anything.
Yeah, Xan liked the second option best. “What? No comment on my threads?” She did her best Vanna impression, waving her hands in front of her body. “The outfit’s new.”
That seemed to snap Roxie back to the present and out of her thoughts. “Oh, you look hot as hell, girl.” She stepped forward hesitantly. “W-what was that phone call about?”
So much for pretense. She sighed, dropping her hands. “It’s a long story. One I’ll tell you about after I get some drinks in me.” And after she came up with a plan to say just enough to pacify without divulging everything.
“Okay.” Roxie still didn’t seem too convinced, but she turned and headed for the door. Once outside, they got into her car and Xan buckled up.
“Where is this place anyway?”
“Pulaski County, just before you hit Faulkner County. It’s a big club that people drive for miles to com
e to.”
Roxie had called it a honkytonk, but Xan didn’t know the first thing about country music. That didn’t matter. As long as she got plenty of alcohol in her, she could damn near tolerate anything.
“You look hot too, by the way,” she said suddenly, realizing she hadn’t commented on her friend’s sexy outfit.
Roxie giggled. “Thanks. I might have to cut this dress off me tonight. Gettin’ it on was a feat!” Instead of hitting the interstate, Roxie pulled down a dirt road. “Anna Sue’s coming too,” she explained when Xan gave her a puzzled look.
“Oh, okay.” They picked up the other gal and headed to the bar. Anna Sue talked so much that Xan figured she should’ve gotten her buzz on before leaving the house. The chick talked about everyone. Hmm, gossiping seemed to be a favorite pastime around here.
They parked on the gravel lot and walked up to the bar, Xan being careful not to mar her new stilettos. When the door opened, she was immediately assaulted with twang blaring from the speakers and a chorus of yeehaws from some of the patrons.
“Don’t look so scared, girl,” Roxie said. “They’re just hootin’ and hollerin’ in there. Someone’s probably on the bull.”
On the bull? Was that some Southern slang metaphor for something? Same thing as drunk maybe? Surely there wasn’t a live bull in the building. That would just be ridiculous.
When they walked farther in, Xan paled. Nope. It was worse than a live bull stinking up the joint. There was a mechanical bull in the corner with some crazy drunk chick grinding on it, riding it in slow motion.
“That looks like fun!” Anna Sue bellowed. “I’m gonna get me a drink an’ get in line. See you gals later.”
“In line? You mean people choose to do that?” Xan shoved her thumb in the direction of the mechanical monstrosity, sporting an incredulous look on her face. The damn thing didn’t even look like a bull. “I figured that was just some form of punishment for people who lose some kinda bet.”
