Jules, the Bounty Hunter

by Katie Ashley

  “I took too much of your money last time, Shay.”

  “Whatever. Get your pansy ass over here.”

  “You mind if I play?” Wyatt asked.

  I shook my head. “Yeah, go ahead.”

  “Hey Uptown Girl, you play pool?” Shay asked.

  “Um, I’ve watched my brothers play before,” I lied with my best poker face.

  Shay and Chase exchanged a look before grinning. “Then come on and play with us.”

  I started to slide out of the booth, but Wyatt reached out and stopped me. I gave him a wink, and when he realized I totally knew how to play pool, his lips stretched into a wide grin.

  We ambled over to the pool table. “I’ve got twenty bucks on Jules,” Wyatt said, smacking a wad of bills on the side of the table.

  Chase snickered. “Dude, you’re thinking with the wrong stick on that one!”

  The other guys roared in laughter. Shay handed me a cue. He sized me up in my designer sundress. “You need a little instruction, Uptown Girl?”

  I grabbed up the chalk. “No, I think I can manage. As long as you promise to go easy on me.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Leaning over the table, I focused on the multicolored balls in front of me. Just as I was about to slide the cue, Wyatt whacked Chase in the back of the head with his stick.

  “What the hell man? I was just watching her rack up the balls!”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Oh, I think you were focusing on another rack, asshole!”

  The other guys snickered. With an exasperated sigh, I jerked the front of my dress up. “Can I continue?”

  Chase held up his hands in mock surrender and backed away. Once again I focused on the balls and brought the cue between my fingers. When the purple ball careened into the left pocket, Shay crossed his arms over his chest. “Beginner’s luck,” he grumbled.

  “Nah, I think she’s just getting started,” Wyatt replied.

  Another one of guys took out a five and put it on the table. “I’m in on Uptown Girl.”

  I rolled my eyes. “The name’s Jules.”

  Shay smirked at me when I bent over again. But as I continued scoring, his expression changed. Then a hush fell over the guys as I cleared the table. When I finished, I put down my cue stick.

  “You totally just hustled us, didn’t you Uptown Girl?” Shay asked, with a grin.

  I laughed. “Maybe.”

  He shook his head and turned to Wyatt. “She’s cool, man.”

  Wyatt smiled. “Yeah, she is.”

  “Ooh, does this mean I get to hang with your crew now?” I asked.

  “Don’t push your luck,” Shay replied, with a grin.

  Wyatt and I stuck around for the next few hours, playing pool and hanging out with his friends. When the hands on the Budweiser clocked inched towards eleven, I knew it was time we got going—especially with me carjacking the Porsche.

  As we got to the door, Shay called out to me. “Come back anytime…Jules.”

  I grinned at him using my name. “Okay, but when I do, just remember your money isn’t safe!”

  They booed and hissed at us until Wyatt ushered me outside. “I gotta admit this has been a pretty awesome night!”

  Wyatt chuckled. “Yeah, you’re going home about hundred bucks richer.”

  “You didn’t do so bad yourself, Wild Man.”

  “Don’t start that,” he warned.

  A thought popped into my mind, so I decided to act. “Wanna drive home?” I asked, as I dangled the keys in front of Wyatt. When he started to snatch them, I shook my head. “Tell me how you got the Wild Man name, and I’ll let you drive us home.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Totally.”

  He winced. “It’s not something I’m proud of you know.”

  Slowly, I started pulling my hand back, and he rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine.” He leaned back against the Porsche and jammed his hands into his pants pockets. “So, I’m the classic punk with Daddy issues I guess. When I was fifteen, I started acting like a real douchebag—you know, cutting class, hanging out with stoners, giving my mom shit. Then when I was sixteen, I started dealing pot for this biker guy I met.”

  “That’s intense.”

  “Yeah, it’s was intensely stupid, especially when I got arrested.”

  “Let me guess. Raye bailed you out.”

  Wyatt nodded. “That’s when he and my mom hit it off. He offered her a job.” He grinned sheepishly. “I guess the other hot and heavy stuff came later.”

  I laughed. “I guess so.”

  “Then Raye decided to make it his mission in life to straighten my sorry ass up. He got the dealer off my back, took me to school and picked me up, and made me do my homework. He didn’t trust me to work in the office, but he called in some favors with a friend of his who did manual labor.” He shook his head. “We’re talking hard ass manual labor.”

  I felt along his bicep. “So that’s where you got all beefed up.”

  Wyatt grinned. “You been checking me out, Julesy?”

  Jerking my hand away, I replied, “Am I that easy to read? Oh yes, I want you bad.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “I’m just glad you’ve got your act together now. And who knows, maybe when you make the Apprehension Team, you can use the name Wild Man.”

  He shrugged before rocking back on his heels. “So you gonna go all judgmental on me now because of my ‘Wild Man’ past?”

  “You going soft on me? I thought guys were supposed to be proud of their sketchy pasts.”

  “Not always.” There was true vulnerability in Wyatt’s expression—like he really was worried about what I thought, and I gotta say it totally tugged at my heart.

  I reached over and took his hand. I pressed the keys into his palm. When he looked surprised, I said, “I was suspended for ten days Freshman year for making terroristic threats.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Yeah, these guys were talking shit about my dad. I told them if they kept talking, I’d take them out…permanently.”

  Wyatt slowly shook his head back and forth. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, and I might’ve smeared some horse shit in their lockers.”

  He stared at me for a moment before busting out laughing. “Jules, you are one of the most awesome chicks I’ve ever met.”

  I laughed. “Thanks.”

  Opening my car door, Wyatt said, “Now, buckle your seatbelt and hang on tight because I’m about to show you what this car can really do!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  With Mom and Aunt Vivian totally occupied with their Garden Club’s annual Summer Fling fundraiser, I had more time to spend down at Raye’s. Of course, it was totally fine by me. I was thankful that so far they had only bored me to tears with the intricate details at breakfast and dinner and hadn’t yet asked me to take a part in any of it. So far Mom was holding up her end of our bargain about the society stuff.

  One afternoon, after some greasy but delicious Chinese take-out, Wyatt and I were working through some phone logs for jumper informants. A lot of relatives or friends of felons would willingly give you a clue or two about a jumper’s whereabouts. Others were trickier and needed a little persuading. In those cases, Raye liked to use monetary persuading, while in others he used some muscle.

  We’d made it half way down the log when Raye started over to my desk and then stopped. He shook his head and then turned around. Wyatt and I exchanged a glance, but then we went back to the logs. Five minutes later, Raye did the same thing, but this time he opened his mouth before snapping it shut.

  “Um, what is your deal?” I demanded.

  “Okay, listen, there’s something I need you to do, but I know it’s wrong of me to ask.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He ran his hand nervously through his hair. “You see, there’s a jumper I’ve been trying to lure out of Bonaventure Cemetery.”

  “So what’s the problem? Is
he a vampire or something?” Wyatt asked.

  Raye rolled his eyes. “No, smartass, he’s not. He likes to do his drug deals there.”

  The wheels turned in my head. “Oh, so you want me to pretend to be a user or something?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Hmm, so what is it you’re not telling me?”

  Raye grimaced. “Let’s just say the jumper responds well to attractive women—” he paused and stared down at the ground. “Attractive young women.”

  “All right, so I stand around in the cemetery being young and attractive and wait for you guys to come bust him. What’s so bad about that?”

  “He likes young, attractive and… provocatively dressed women.”

  I gulped. “Oh man.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Dude, that is some messed up shit!”

  Raye threw up his hands. “See, I said I didn’t want ask Jules to do it. It’s wrong on so many levels. God, I feel….I can’t, like, pimp you out!”

  I shook my head. “You’re not pimping me out. This is business, and for the moment, business calls for me to look like a sleazy chick.”

  “You mean, you’d actually do it?” Wyatt asked.

  “Sure, why not?”

  “For starters, you don’t dress slutty.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

  Raye stared at me. “You know your dad would have my hide for doing this.”

  “You, the ex-Marine, afraid of Dad? That’s a joke,” I replied.

  “I’m totally serious.”

  “Well, Dad’s still in Naples, so what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?”

  Appearing to weigh my words, Raye finally nodded. “Okay then.” He walked to his office door. “Sherry, bring in the clothes.” At my skeptical expression he said, “Sometimes we keep some stuff around for recon work.”

  “Uh-huh…”

  When Sherry appeared with an outfit, Wyatt’s eyes widened. In one hand, there was a hot pink halter top while in the other was a pair of booty shorts. We’re talking some serious Daisy Duke jean shorts.

  “Wow,” I muttered as I took them from her.

  “Oh honey, you got a good figure. I’m sure you can rock those clothes,” Sherry said, with a grin.

  “Thanks, but I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, ducking my head.

  Sherry nudged Wyatt. “Doesn’t Jules have a good figure?”

  “Um, yeah.” When I jerked my head up, a smile twitched on his lips. “Any guy would be blind not to see that.”

  My heart fluttered a little in my chest at the way he was looking at me. “Thanks. But considering the situation, I’m not sure I want to rock anything.”

  “That’s totally understandable,” Raye replied.

  We all stood there, staring at the clothes. I cleared my throat. “Okay, I’ll go change. Then you can brief me on the car ride over.”

  Raye nodded as I headed into the bathroom. As I shimmied into the shorts, I had to shake my head at the bizarreness that had become my life. In the course of one week, I’d been decked out to the nines as a would-be debutant, and now I was being stripped down to practically nothing as pervert bait.

  Once I finished putting on the shorts, I started on the halter top. It almost had the same feel as the bustier torture device I’d worn earlier. When the complete ensemble was on, I gazed in the mirror. Fabulous, I officially looked like an underage hooker.

  As I pushed open the bathroom door, I gazed down at my exposed legs and shook my head.

  “Okay, how do women wear these things? I feel completely naked. Not to mention, Big Mama has granny panties longer than these.”

  I skidded to a stop. Standing in the doorway to Raye’s office was Dad and the twins. “D-Dad, hey, uh, when did you get back?”

  Dad’s face flushed an angry purple. “What in the hell is going on?”

  Wyatt stepped in front of me as if to shield me from Dad’s wrath. “I can handle this,” I whispered.

  “Julesy, the guy’s the color of an Oompa Loompa. And who can blame him considering you like a total hooker!”

  Dad took the length of the room in two long strides. “I’m going to ask one more time what is going on here!”

  “I’m helping Raye with a case.”

  “Disguised as a prostitute?” Remy asked, snorting back a laugh.

  When Dad shot him a death glare, he ducked his head. Dad turned his attention back to Raye. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Raye held up his hands in mock surrender. “Trust me. It was a last resort. I got a dealer down in Bonaventure Cemetery who reacts well to women.”

  Dad swiveled his gaze over to Sherry and then back to Raye. With a grimace, Raye replied, “Okay, he likes young girls.”

  The vein in the top of Dad’s head started throbbing—a sign he was truly livid. “When you asked if Jules could help out, I thought you meant answering phones and researching leads. I had no idea you meant this!”

  “I realize that. But I was going to take all the necessary precautions and--”

  Dad jabbed a finger into Raye’s chest. Hard. “Forget it. Julianne is not going out like that!”

  “Dad!” I protested. There was no way in hell I was going to let him sideline me from a case again. I’d already been taken out of the million dollar jumper, and I wasn’t going to miss anymore.

  “Julianne, I’m your father, and what I say goes! And trust me, I’m very serious about this.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m serious too! Are you going to stand there and tell me a drug dealing jumper is going to continue staying free just because I’m a little scantily clad?” I countered.

  “Jules—”

  “This is about a case, Dad. It’s part of the life that you’ve brought me up in, remember? And I’m pretty sure between Raye and his team, as well as you and the boys, there’s nothing going to happen to me because of this outfit!”

  Dad’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he stared me down. “You’re seriously okay with—” he gestured wildly to my outfit. “That?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to ever be sporting it again.”

  “Thank God,” Remy muttered under his breath. Colt smacked him in the back of the head. “Dude, watch it!”

  Ignoring them, I continued on. “Besides, is this outfit really objectifying me any differently than being paraded around at Mom and Aunt Vivian’s party?”

  “Oh, I think there’s a huge difference, but--” he emphasized before I could interrupt him, “I can remotely see where you’re coming from.”

  “So?” I pressed.

  “So, either you put on your jeans with that top or you don’t go.”

  “Good idea,” Wyatt said.

  I shot both of them an exasperated look before glancing over at Raye. He bobbed his head in agreement with Dad. “Okay, fine.”

  “Once you change, then get your earpiece and get in the car.”

  While I squealed with delight, Raye exhaled noisily in relief. “All right then. Nathaniel, you and boys take the Durango. Wyatt and I will take Jules in the Land Rover. Keep Channel Seven frequency open.”

  Dad nodded as I quickly swept back in the bathroom and put on my jeans. When I came out, Dad started toward the door with the boys. Then he turned back. “You do have mace, don’t you Jules?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Good. And if this guy even blinks at you the wrong way, don’t hesitate to hose him.”

  “Jeez, overprotective much?”

  “Yes, and don’t ever forget it,” Dad grumbled and then he headed out the door.

  Wyatt and I followed behind him. “Good luck, Little Sis,” Remy called as he hopped into the Durango.

  “Thanks!” I called back. I then climbed into the passenger seat of the Land Rover. “So who exactly am I looking for?”

  Raye passed a manila folder to me labeled “JD Nations”. I opened it to a mug shot an
d grimaced. “Oh yeah, he has pedophile written all over him.”

  Ignoring me, Raye pressed the walkie talkie pinned to his shoulder. “Rambo to Big Papa, Rambo to Big Papa.”

  Dad’s voice crackled over the intercom. “You’re coming in loud and clear, Rambo.”

  When Raye glanced over at me, I cocked my eyebrows. “Your call sign is Rambo?”

  “You gotta better name, Jewel of the Nile?”

  I laughed. “No, I guess not.”

  “Hey, why don’t I have a call sign?” Wyatt asked from the backseat.

  Glancing at him in the rearview mirror, Raye replied, “Because you have to prove yourself first by getting on the Apprehension Team.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Wyatt grumbled.

  “Yeah, well, that’s the way it goes. Just like you’ll stay back and man the radios while we’re out in the field.”

  Wyatt didn’t respond, so I turned around. “I had to do the same thing for two years. It sucks, but you’ll make it eventually.”

  He must’ve been expecting a smartass remark from me because he stared at me a moment before grinning. “Thanks, Jules.”

  Raye pulled into traffic. “All right, here’s the plan. The cemetery closes at five, and JD likes to do his deals the last hour or two it’s open. We’ll get you in the general vicinity of where he’s at, stake out all the exit points, and then get ready to take him down.”

  I couldn’t help but be a little skeptical. Bonaventure is literally enormous—we’re talking over a hundred and fifty acres. I wasn’t sure how in all that space and among all those tourists, we were going to find him.

  Raye must’ve read my expression because he laughed. “Are you underestimating my talents?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Look, JD likes to work the celebrity area from the fountain and the singer Johnny Mercer’s grave—”

  “Oh, I know him. Aunt Viv showed me his house. It’s where that murder was.”

  Raye shot me a look, so I shut up. “Anyway, he likes to work it over to little Gracie Watson’s grave.”

  “Why am I not surprised the creeper who likes young girls does drug deals around a child’s grave?” Wyatt piped up from the backseat.