“No talking business during dinner,” Jessie said firmly, setting a basket of freshly baked biscuits on the table.
Jack grinned at Mia. Later, he mouthed to her, meaning so much more than that.
Chapter 2
“Tell me again why you get to carry a gun and not me?” Mia asked. She stood with her hands on her hips, watching Jack secure his Glock in his shoulder harness.
“We’ve been over this, Mia. You accidentally shoot inanimate objects when you carry. Inanimate objects that then cost the agency money to replace.”
“One time that happened.” Mia shrugged into her coat. It was February and bitter cold—especially at nine o’clock at night. She slapped her gloves against her thigh.
“Do we have to argue about this every time you see me strap on my piece?” Jack moved to her. “Normally you like it when I’m armed,” he whispered into her ear.
She pushed him away and walked to the door. “What I do not like is being treated like a six-year-old when I am a full partner with you in this detective agency.”
Jack sighed and picked up the car keys. “Mia, as I’ve said, I have no problem with you carrying a gun as soon as you learn how to use it. But every time I suggest we go to the range—”
“Everybody doesn’t learn the same way, Jack,” Mia said, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “Just because I’m not doing it your way doesn’t mean that’s the only way to learn.”
“Practicing at a gun range is a pretty standard method,” he said, tossing the keys in his hands.
“Well, so is learning by doing—in the tactical environment.”
“No way. Not until I see some radical improvement in how you handle a gun.”
“Why are you the one who has to see ‘radical improvement?’ That is so condescending.”
“Hey, go to the range with the chief if you’d prefer. No problem.”
Mia knew Maxwell was just as hardheaded as Jack when it came to wanting Mia to spend endless hours at the shooting range. When would these two by-the-book types realize that just because she approached things differently it didn’t mean wrongly?
They got into the car without speaking but Mia knew she couldn’t last. “I’m just a little sick of the paternalistic hand-holding, if you want to know. In general.”
“Not wanting you to shoot yourself or an innocent bystander is not paternalistic,” Jack said as he navigated out of the parking lot.
“Whatever,” she said, refusing to look at him, concentrating instead on the scenery as it passed.
“Want to stop for coffee?”
“No, thank you. Can you fill me in on the details of the case? That is if you can trust me with that much information.”
“Mia—”
“Just the basics, please, so I have some idea of what we’re doing tonight.”
Mia wasn’t sure why she was so out of sorts. It hadn’t even started with the whole stupid gun thing—although that didn’t help. This case was one of the first real opportunities she and Jack had to work together and she was looking forward to showing him how much she’d improved. He was always accusing her of going off half-cocked and this was her chance to demonstrate to him she could work as a team.
“Okay, our client, Ed Patterson, owns a mid-sized wholesale operation employing thirty people. His company makes fire extinguishers.”
“Where?”
“Off 85 and Lindbergh.”
There was a stretch of warehouses and other wholesale facilities tucked under I-85 where it intersected Buford Highway. Most people didn’t go there unless they worked at one of the factories—or unless they were into creating graffiti on any of the several pillars and cement overpass bridgeways.
“Patterson thinks an employee is stealing inventory and he needs us to confirm that.”
“Doesn’t he have surveillance cameras?”
“Yes, but the employee knows where they are.”
“So what are you thinking? Stake out the place at night and catch him in the act?”
“Basic but effective. Sound good?” He reached over and squeezed her knee and Mia felt a twinge of guilt. He can’t help wanting to protect me all the time. It’s who he is on a basic level—a guy who wants to keep everyone safe.
Wasn’t that one of the main things she loved about him?
Too bad it was also extremely damned annoying.
“Sure,” she said. “Should we stop for stakeout food?” She smiled at him. “I know it’s practically your most favorite part of the job.”
He grinned and she felt a warm flush cascade through her chest. She loved seeing him happy. She hated being the reason when he wasn’t. It was all so confusing!
“I thought we’d stop at Henri’s,” he said, “and grab some roast beef and horseradish sandwiches. Sound good?”
“I’m sorry for being so cranky, Jack. I’ll go to the range more. You’re right. That makes more sense.”
He turned and smiled at her. There it was again. She just made the sun come out and shine through him like God, himself. Was it normal to have this kind of effect on someone?
“I love you, Jack,” she said before she knew the words were coming out of her mouth.
The smile dropped from his face, and for one horrible moment he looked stricken. He swerved the car off the road and into a strip mall parking lot, braking abruptly before turning to her. When he did, she saw he wasn’t stricken at all.
“I love you, too, Mia,” he said, reaching for her hands. “I can’t believe you said it. I didn’t know if you—”
She laughed. “You mean, you can’t believe I said it first.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and launched into his arms to cover his face with kisses.
“I love you,” he whispered into her hair as he held her. “I can’t believe how much.”
She pulled back and held his face in her hands. “Me, too.” She kissed his lips, losing herself in the warmth and need in his reaction. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispered as he fumbled for his own seatbelt. “Jack, no, we are in a public parking lot with people shopping at Jiffy Mart not two doors away.”
She took in a sharp intake of breath as she felt his hand slip between her legs. “I swear to God, Jack,” she gasped, “if you get us arrested for public indecency…” She couldn’t finish the thought. She was too busy trying to help him rip away enough clothes so she could straddle him in the driver’s seat.
He pushed the seat back and eased her onto his cock, hard and ready for her. She moaned as he entered her and held him tight, her eyes barely open but seeing over his shoulder in the dusk as people came and went from the surrounding parking lot. As she moved her hips faster and faster over him, she was torn between wanting the moment to last—to hell with being safe—and wanting to hurry the feeling that promised to explode into her core.
Twenty minutes later, on their way to Henri’s for their roast beef sandwiches, Mia put a hand on Jack’s arm as he drove and laughed.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
“I was just wondering. If that’s how we celebrate our first I-love-you, what in hell would we do if we decide to get married?”
He glanced at her and then back to the road. “If?”
“Is that a proposal?” She sat straight up to give him her whole attention.
“I’m in this for the long haul, Mia. You have to know that.”
A thrill of pleasure tingled through her chest. “Yeah. I think I do,” she said, touching his hair where it met his collar.
“So we can afford to wait, right?”
“To see how things play out?”
“No, not to see how things play out. Just…take it slow. Enjoy the ride.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed again.
Now, how in the world had this wonderful day started out so shitty? She honestly could not remember.
*****
Mindy Payne sat across from her five-year-old daughter watching the child concentrate on coloring a drawing. Bethany looked like her, everyone sa
id so, which meant she looked like Mindy’s grandmother. Maxwell women tended to be meek looking: washed out, pale round faces against nondescript brown hair. Mindy’s mother—not a true Maxwell, of course—had broken ranks by bleaching her brown hair an aggressive shade of honey blonde.
In Mindy’s opinion, it hadn’t worked. And if the fact that her dad eventually divorced them and left while Cindy Maxwell was still in her prime was any evidence at all, it hadn’t worked as far as he was concerned either.
“Careful, Bethany,” Mindy said as she moved the child’s juice cup out of reach. “We don’t want to make a mess in Mommy’s clean kitchen.”
The child didn’t look up. Mindy frowned. She took after Tad in that way. Her husband could walk through a room and pieces of clothing, mail and other detritus would just naturally fall off him—leaving Mindy to tidy up in his wake.
“It can’t spill,” the child said, squinting at her drawing.
“What?”
“The juice. It has a lid on it.”
“Let’s just be careful, all right?” Was that lip? Was she being disrespectful? God, if so she was starting early. Mindy’s own mother loved to tell stories of what a monster Mindy had been growing up. If Mindy remembered correctly, and of course she did, her father said it showed she had backbone.
A million years ago.
“Mommy has to make a phone call,” Mindy said as she stood, her smartphone in hand. Honestly, it was never out of hand. Tad claimed she slept with it under her pillow at night. She just needed to know things. The mystery to her was why he wasn’t that way too.
She stepped out of the kitchen and walked to the dining room. She’d positioned the kitchen table, where Bethany worked, at an angle such that Mindy could see it—and Bethany—from nearly twenty feet away. Far enough away to not be heard on personal phone calls, close enough to guard against the child’s natural propensity to destroy her environment.
At first Mindy had debated using a burner phone for this call, but decided it defeated the whole purpose if the bitch didn’t know who she was.
“Hello?” It always amazed Mindy to hear the woman’s voice. She’d only met her once and had been startled then too. Jess Kazmaroff had a voice like silk, smooth and undulating. No wonder her father was seduced by her.
“Yes, hello, Jess, this is Mindy Payne. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”
“Not at all. I’m glad to hear from you. I imagine your father told you our news?”
“Yes, and frankly, that’s why I’m calling. I need to ask you not to do this. Please.”
“I’m sorry?”
“My parents were—are—incredibly close to a reconciliation. I don’t suppose my father mentioned that to you?”
The woman didn’t respond but Mindy heard the quick intake of breath on the line.
“Well, anyway,” Mindy said. “He has problems communicating, trust me, and I wanted to make sure you knew them before you got…too much further along. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt by my father.”
“I see.”
“Well, I really hope you do, and I also hope I don’t have to call again. Trust me, this isn’t pleasant for me either. Can you tell me you understand what I’m saying?”
“Oh, I think I can tell you that, dear.”
“Awesome.” Mindy hung up and felt a surge of relief rush. That wasn’t so bad. True, her father would probably hear from the woman and have to endure the tears and hysteria Jess had been too prideful to show Mindy. But still…it had to be done. One thing Mindy knew, her father was about as spineless when it came to saying the things that needed to be said as a jelly fish.
Bethany turned her head to look at Mindy and then looked back to her drawing. Mindy’s rush of pleasure left in the time it took to snap a crayon in two.
What the hell was that child up to?
*****
So far, the best part of the night—except for the strip mall sex—was the roast beef. Jack eased a crick out of his neck and rubbed his eyes. Mia had gone looking for a restroom at the gas station on the corner—a good half-mile back—and while she had her cellphone on her, he still didn’t love the idea of her walking back alone in the dark.
Love. He grinned and his aching neck stopped hurting for as long as he remembered the moment when she’d blurted out I love you. The look on her face half convinced him she hadn’t meant to say it. Hell, maybe she hadn’t. It didn’t matter now. That was one episode of wild parking lot sex and several references to maybe we’ll get married ago. God, he had it bad. And it felt great.
Jack twisted in his seat to see if Mia was visible yet on her way back. The whole point of the stakeout was not to be seen. He hoped she remembered that. A light flickered from the plain cinder block building in front of him, catching his eye. He saw a door closing—the interior light obviously what he’d seen for a flash.
Jack’s body tensed and all his senses sharpened. A figure was walking close to the side of the building—clearly someone who knew where the surveillance cameras were positioned. He had a large box in his hands.
Show time! Jack slipped out of the car and pressed the door shut quietly before dropping into a crouch.
Where the hell was Mia? He felt for the camera in his jacket pocket. He didn’t have to intercept the guy. Just needed to photograph his guilty-ass face as he tried to load the box into his trunk before then confirming the box’s contents. Jack had a rough schematic of the office building showing two parking lots, one feeding into the other, all of it enclosed in an unlocked eight-foot chain link fence. He and Mia had parked in the lot closest to the building but the guy was hurrying into the smaller one, probably where he’d parked his car.
Jack stayed low and crept up behind one of the few other parked cars in the lot. The figure was fishing in his jacket now for his car keys. Jack needed to stop him before he reached his car. He stood up and trotted straight for him.
The guy saw him and immediately dropped the box. Jack heard the telltale clang of metal hitting the pavement.
“Yo, dude,” Jack said. “Got a light?” He pulled out his camera. He’d be close enough in another five seconds to get the guy’s face in frame. Suddenly the guy turned and bolted for the chain link fence beyond the office building. There was always a chance these things went down the hard way and this looked to be one of those times. Jamming the camera back in his pocket, Jack took off after him.
The guy had a twenty-foot head start. Jack saw him hit the fence and start to climb over it and Jack stopped running. What was the point? Even without a picture he could identify him. All Jack had to do was grab the stolen box and call the cops.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!”
Mia’s words rang out in the cold night air like something out of Jack’s worst nightmare.
Chapter 3
Mia stood at the corner of the warehouse, her arms shaking as she held her hairbrush pointed at the man. When she watched him clamber over the fence with Jack right behind, she had just enough time to wrench the brush from her purse and step into the beam of the one security light.
She felt a flush of heat as she watched the man turn slowly to face her. His eyes glanced down at the brush in her hands. By then the sounds of Jack coming over the top of the fence filled the air between them. The look on the man’s face—white with fury and frustration—triggered her next move. She flung the brush at him and turned to run, a scream coming out of her before she could stop it.
The impact as the man hit her from behind punched the air out of her. She felt the night world swirling about her as he whipped her around. Her legs gave out, but he held her up, his face close to hers, his breath labored and smelling of onions and fish.
The icy prick of a knife blade brought her back to the world and she struggled to stand on her own.
“Get the fuck back in your car or I kill her,” he snarled into Mia’s hair. She realized he wasn’t speaking to her.
“Let her go.”
“You’re trespassing
. People get hurt when they trespass.” The man shook Mia, his supporting hand snaking up her back to hold her securely by the hair. He tugged her head back, exposing her throat more. The knife pinched into her skin. She felt his fear where he touched her, sliding over like a writhing cottonmouth.
“Don’t make it worse,” Jack said. He sounded closer now. “Nobody gets the needle for grand theft.”
Mia’s squeezed her eyes shut. Her captor’s panting was all she could hear. Suddenly he released his grip on her hair. She brought her chin down a fraction when she felt herself being pushed away. The ground flew up to smash her in the face.
The audio in her world muted as she huddled on the ground, waiting for the grassy field to stop spinning long enough to look around. It felt like hours that she lay there, staring at the grass, when she started to hear noises again.
Terrible noises.
The sounds of fists pummeling flesh, over and over again. She lifted her head and twisted in the direction of the noises and saw the two of them on the ground, Jack on top, punching, hitting. Mia shook her head, but the motion caused a roiling in her gut and she vomited down the front of her jacket.
“Jack,” she said weakly. “Don’t…kill him.”
*****
As Jess turned on the porch light she reminded herself the important thing was that Mia was safe. And Jack, too, of course. She still held the cell phone in her hand following Bill’s hurried call to her. Everybody safe. That’s all the matters.
She went back to the couch and tucked her feet under her, setting the cell phone down and picking up the remote control. Mia’s little dog, Daisy, curled up next to her and Jess put a hand on her, feeling the warmth like a soothing balm. It has been such a pleasant night before the phone call from Jack came. Bill had his jacket on and was walking out the door before he even heard all the details.
Jess smiled. That was so like him. Her smile wavered and then dropped. She turned off the television. It wasn’t going to be possible to be distracted by it tonight. The edge that had slipped into the evening—the first time Jess ever remembered feeling it between them—was subtle and pervasive, and sharp as a scalpel.
Complete Mia Kazmaroff Page 62