Switchblade

by Carsen Taite

  I was sleepy, grimy, and hungry, and I could think of only one place I wanted to be.

  “Take me home.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Go take a shower. I’ll make us something to eat.” Jess strode off toward the kitchen and Cash followed, leaving me standing alone in her living room. When I said I wanted to go home, I’d meant my home. I hadn’t thought past Jess dropping us off and Cash and me crawling into my unmade bed and spending the rest of the day snoozing off a night of being in custody. Now that I was here, in her tidy, roomy, comfortable house, my idea of a good day didn’t seem so great. When I reached the bathroom, with its gleaming surfaces, cool ceramic tile, and rows of fluffy towels, I considered moving in.

  I showered long enough to prune my skin, but I finally felt like I’d managed to soap off the stench of the interrogation room. Now I smelled like Jess. Some kind of spice. I’d spent the night, or at least a few hours in the night, here many times, but I’d never bathed in her house. I held up the bottle of liquid soap. White tea and ginger. Seemed kind of girly, but the smell was fresh. I liked it on her, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about smelling it on me.

  Cash nudged the door open as I was toweling off. I bent down to pet him.

  “He’s hungry, but I told him we had to wait for you.”

  Jess stood in the doorway, staring at my bare chest. The last few months, I’d doubted how she felt about me, but right now I knew that if nothing else, my body still turned her on. I dropped the towel to the floor. “Think he’d mind waiting a bit longer?”

  She stepped forward and pulled me to her, raking her fingers over my exposed flesh. I was naked, clean, and hungry—perfect for the taking. I nuzzled my way toward a kiss, but just as I thought I knew where this was headed, she pulled back. “Let’s eat, talk, and then we can do whatever you want.” She and Cash left me to ponder her decision.

  Her priorities were screwed up, but that was nothing new. She paid her bills on time and obeyed traffic laws too. I finished drying off with a new towel, and then pulled on a pair of sweats she’d left on the counter. Too short, but they smelled like her, and since that was as close as I was going to get for a bit, I enjoyed what I could get.

  When I walked out of the bedroom, I detected a very different smell. Butter, batter, syrup. When I got to the kitchen, Jess was manning a griddle and she already had a platter stacked high with pancakes. I almost wept with gratitude. I can’t remember the last time someone made me breakfast without making me pay for it. Even my mother, who’d played at the role of housewife until I was in high school, thought making breakfast meant lining up cereal boxes and setting out bowls. I leaned against Jess and reached around to grab a pancake off the stack. She swatted me with the spatula. “Hands off.”

  “I’m more for hands on.” I took a huge bite and held up the crescent moon shape it had become. “Oh, sorry, were you talking about these?” I chewed for a few seconds. “These are amazing. Since when do you cook? And isn’t it Thursday? Why aren’t you at work?”

  “Since always. Yes, it’s Thursday, and I took the day off. I’m entitled.”

  She seemed a little touchy about the taking off work part, so I focused on the cooking. “You’ve never cooked for me before.”

  “First time for everything.” She shot me an uncomfortable smile before turning her focus back to the griddle. Made me wonder if she’d cooked for someone else. Like her last girlfriend, Heather Deveaux, a doctor who’d turned out to be part crook. Heather had spent quite a bit of time here over the past few months, which was exactly why I hadn’t. I felt a tiny stab of jealousy that the doctor with the shady past may have merited more personal attention from Jess than I did.

  “Where did you learn to cook?”

  “Since when are you so interested in my personal life?”

  “Guess I’m surprised that after all these years, I can still learn new things about you.”

  “I’ve always cooked. My mother was a lousy cook. It was either learn to cook my own meals or starve.”

  Funny how different our approaches were. My experience with a mother who couldn’t or wouldn’t cook meant I’d eat pretty much anything, from anyone, anywhere, whereas Jess took it upon herself to get what she felt she deserved. “I never thought of learning. I guess I thought the ‘I don’t cook’ gene was alive and well in my DNA and I shouldn’t even bother.”

  She piled a plate full, added butter and syrup, and pushed it my way. “Here’s one more day you can put off learning how to take care of yourself.”

  I couldn’t read her tone. Sounded part wistful, part pissed. I tried to catch her eyes, but she was back at the griddle, dishing up a second plate.

  “Jess?”

  “Go ahead and start eating. It’ll get cold.”

  I started to say she sounded like my mother, but she didn’t. She sounded like someone else’s mother. Didn’t really matter, I wasn’t in the mood to be mothered. The pancakes looked fantastic, but I was looking for something way more satisfying.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” She set a plate on the floor and slid into the seat next to me. I glanced down and saw that Cash was already halfway through the two pancakes she’d given him. When I looked back up, she smiled. “Don’t tell me you have him on a strict diet.”

  We both laughed and then dug in. I could barely contain my reaction as the strong flavors burst on my tongue. “Oh my God, these are amazing. What do you put in them? Crack?”

  “Yes, I kept some from my days in vice and sprinkle a bit on all the food I make. It’s made me quite a hit with the ladies.”

  I wanted to relive the taste more than I wanted to make a smart remark, so I shoveled another huge bite into my mouth. Jess smiled again like she was glad to give me such a simple pleasure. I glanced down at Cash, who’d wolfed down his take in three solid bites. “Sorry, fella. I’m not sharing. You’ll have to suck up to her to get more.”

  As if on cue, he placed a paw on Jess’s leg. “Do all Huskies have eyes this blue?” she asked.

  “Like I would know. I don’t have a lot of experience with dogs.”

  “You two seem to fit together.”

  I caught a hint of wistful in her tone. “You want to tell me why you showed up this morning?”

  “And here I thought it was my job to save your ass.”

  I nodded at the confirmation she’d been the one to get Perez off my back. “Seriously, how did you find out what was going down?”

  “John,” she referred to her partner, “heard it on the radio. He figured you’d be in a bind. I made a few calls and found out Perez was on the warpath and decided to check it out myself.”

  “And coming along this morning to meet with Jorge, what’s up with that?”

  Jess pushed her plate to the side and leaned in on her elbows. I saw the strain in her eyes, the way her lips tightened. She had something serious to say, but she wasn’t sure either how to say it or if she wanted to. I urged her along. “Whatever’s going on, I’m in the thick of it now. I’m going to sort through it if for no other reason than to find out who shot Nancy. Wouldn’t it be easier if we shared information? I trust you. Can you trust me?”

  The wait time was pretty prolonged, and I began to wish I hadn’t reached out, asked for help. No matter how many times Jess came to my rescue or fed me intel, she was a cop, through and through, and if she ever had to choose between me and the fellowship…Well, I didn’t really want to know how that would go down.

  “It’s not about trust.”

  “You sure about that?” Should I say how I really felt? The minute Ronnie had charged back in, Jess had backed way off. I could tell she didn’t trust whatever feelings we had for each other enough to know they could survive a little interruption from the ex.

  Hell, I didn’t even trust me. Why should I expect her to? I’d wanted to kiss Ronnie back at my apartment, and I wasn’t entirely sure what had stopped me. Until I knew how I felt, how could I expect Jess to trust me?

  B
ut Jorge’s case was different. It was business, and however much of a slacker I might be, I could be trusted to keep my word to the people I cared about. And I cared about Jess. I even cared about Nancy, for all her annoying flirtatious ways. “Look, I get why you wouldn’t trust me, but I promise you all I want to find out is the truth. If it turns out Jorge is a bad cop, I’ll back off, but I get the feeling something isn’t right here and I think you do too. You can’t get caught looking into this on your own, so use me for cover. And I can’t find out all I need without someone on the inside. Together, we can figure this out.” I walked over to stand behind her chair. Wrapping my arms around her, I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “We’re always better when we work together, right?”

  She turned into my embrace and kissed me. Soft at first. I tasted sweet syrup, and then hot need as the intensity of the kiss escalated. I pulled her upright, out of the chair, and pressed against her. Hip to hip, chest to chest. I loved the way we fit. Years of intimacy meant there was no awkward jostling, only mindless melding, allowing us to get lost in the rush. All I wanted right now was to feel her skin against mine, the quickening pulse of her heart, the wet between her legs.

  She broke the kiss and I waited for her answer.

  “I trust you.”

  Just what I needed to hear.

  *

  After a half day in Jess’s bed, Cash and I took a cab home to pick up the Bronco. Jess funded the expedition after we both decided that if we were going to work together, we needed to do a better job about hiding that fact. I hadn’t wanted to leave at all. Full from pancakes, sated from sex, and content in Jess’s bed was much more pleasant than facing my grungy, lonely apartment.

  I called Nancy’s cell as soon as the taxi dropped me off. Surprisingly, she answered on the first ring.

  “Where are you?” she whispered.

  “Home. Where are you?”

  “Checking out of the hospital.”

  “Want me to pick you up?”

  “Not a great idea. I’ve got plenty of folks here who can give me a ride.”

  I got it. She was surrounded by fellow cops, and the last thing she needed was for me to show up and raise questions. “How’s Jackson?”

  “Same.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “I’ll call you when I get home. Maybe you can bring dinner over later and we can visit.” She clicked off the line. The dinner and visit comment was likely for the benefit of whoever was standing around, but it wasn’t a bad idea. I sent Jess a text to let her know I’d heard from Nancy and we might be going over later. I didn’t figure Nancy would mind if I brought Jess along, and that way we could save her from having to repeat whatever she had to say.

  I wanted to crash, but Cash was restless. I couldn’t summon enough energy for a run or a trip back to the park, but I decided a walk to Maggie’s for a late lunch might be the perfect solution to both our needs.

  Moments after we walked through the door, I was in fear of losing my dog. Cash greeted Maggie like she was his long lost mother. She pulled him into a fierce hug and showered his head with kisses and promises of steak. I tapped on Maggie’s shoulder to interrupt the lovefest. “Hey, we’re hungry. Can you feed us?”

  Big Harry, Maggie’s head cook and bottle washer, called out, “Don’t think we’re supposed to have dogs inside.”

  Before I could reply, Maggie asked me in a loud voice, “Luca, what’s the name of your service dog?”

  “Cash.” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this and hoped I wasn’t going to have to act like I’d suddenly become blind. It was one thing lying to the guy at the police station, but Maggie’s crew was like family.

  “Cash is a good name for a hardworking dog. We will feed the service dog for free. Harry, make him a steak.”

  Harry walked away, muttering, “Service dog, my ass.”

  I waited until he was out of sight and repeated, “Service dog, my ass.”

  Maggie was quick with a reply. “They have service dogs for all sorts of things: traumatized soldiers, crime victims, you name it. I saw it all on one of those Discovery channel shows.” She bent down and snuggled Cash. “None this pretty. He’s a looker for sure.”

  “Quit flirting with my dog.”

  She ignored my warning. “What’re you doing with a dog, anyway?”

  “Why can’t I have a dog? Why does everyone think I can’t have a dog?”

  “Settle down. Everyone, huh? Guess I’m not the only one thinks it’s weird. That ought to tell you something right there.”

  I was too hungry to cipher out her cagey response, so I let it go. “What’s for lunch?”

  “Whatever you want. I’ve given up trying to get you or your father to eat better. I know he runs around eating junk when I’m not around. No sense fighting it.”

  She was one up on my mother already. “Great. Burger with fries. Put bacon on it. And cheese. And a beer.”

  Maggie shook her head and poured me a beer. “Your brother is supposed to get back in town tomorrow night.”

  I had to think for a moment before I realized she was talking about his honeymoon. “I thought they were going to be gone a whole week.”

  “Linda could only get so much time off work.”

  “That sucks.” My new sister-in-law—wow, that sounded weird—had just started a pediatric fellowship at Baylor. I didn’t know what a fellowship meant other than she was a doctor who had to work all the time.

  “I was thinking it would be nice if we decorated their house, had some food waiting for them when they returned.”

  “You mean like break into their house while they’re still gone?”

  She smacked me on the arm. “Don’t be silly. They left a key. I’ve been checking their mail, picking up their newspaper, feeding the cat.”

  “They have a cat?” I had a hard time seeing my brother with any kind of pet, let alone a fuzzy, snobby cat. Of course, I never would’ve pictured my brother happily married either, but he’d looked pretty pleased on his wedding day.

  “Focus. I’m going over there tomorrow with your father. You’ll come with us.”

  It wasn’t a question. “Sure.” I decided to agree since I was sitting right here in front of her. I could always bow out over the phone at the last minute. Way easier to tell Maggie no when she wasn’t in my face.

  By the time my food was ready, the place got busy and Maggie didn’t have time to harass me anymore. When I finished, I drove over to Hardin’s place to see if he had any new business for me. At any moment, I could discover the smoking gun that proved Jorge was guilty as hell, and when that happened, Ronnie was likely to let me go. Better plan for the inevitable, even if planning wasn’t my strong suit. Something about spending the morning in Jess’s put together fairyland made me want to be a better person. I wasn’t going to over think it, but it might feel good to fill up my coffee can and pay the rent too.

  Hardin kept a lean staff on Saturdays, and Sally was on her own dealing with a client. She called out that she’d only be a minute, so I sat and pretended to read an ancient magazine in the waiting area. Before her client’s ass hit the door, she called out, “Hey, Luca, next time you get caught in a shootout why don’t you give us a call to spring you?”

  “Very funny.”

  “That your dog?” She pointed at Cash and I nodded. “Handsome devil.” She walked to the back door. I knew enough to follow her outside, and I held her purse while she dug around for a cigarette. Between puffs, she barraged me with questions.

  “Heard one of your pals got shot up last night and the other guy’s down for the count.”

  “Nancy’s okay. The other guy’s still alive as far as I know. His name’s Greg Jackson. Vice cop. You heard of him?”

  She answered with a long stream of smoke punctuated with a bobbing head. I looked down at Cash and had the random thought that smoke might not be good for him. Like it was good for me either. I shook off the odd sensation of worrying about the welfare of anot
her being and focused on Sally. “Tell me what you know.”

  “If there was gunfire, you can bet Jackson was the cause of it. That guy’s bad news. I’ve heard about him from lots of our clients.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And it’s not like he’s never been in trouble himself.”

  I looked around to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity who could overhear our conversation, but no one else was anywhere in sight. Still, I matched her tone. “He’s been arrested? Here in Dallas?”

  “Yep. But it all got covered up.”

  “And you know this because…” It wasn’t that I doubted her. Sally was in a position to hear and see all kinds of stuff, but a lot of it was rumor and speculation. Everything wasn’t always what it seemed, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up. That Jorge’s partner had a record might be nothing more than a coincidence.

  “I know you think I’m a party girl,” she said, probably referencing the time I’d seen her out at the bar, half-dressed, dividing her attention between several women, “but I spend most nights listening to the police scanner. It was around a year ago, but I remember the call.”

  She took another puff. She knew I was hanging on her words, and I knew she was drawing out the story for maximum effect. It was working.

  “Nine one one call on a domestic disturbance. I hate when we get those guys. They always have a ton of bond conditions and a protective order they’re sure to violate.”

  “Sally!” I waved my hands to keep her on track. “Tell me what you know.”

  “I’m getting to it.” Puff, puff. “The call was to Jackson’s place. Wife said they got in an argument over how well done she’d cooked his steak, and he cleared the table with a baseball bat before coming for her. Broke her arm. Officers on the scene called for detectives from family violence. A detective showed up. Ambulance took the missus to the hospital.”

  “And Jackson?”

  “Left the house. His wife divorced him, but no charges were ever filed.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I kept tabs on it.”