To top all that off, I hadn’t taken a pain pill all day. Every time my hand slid to my pocket, I’d look at Max and think of Sunny and her subtle way of suggesting I was addicted.
My back was knots, new pains in my hips that I hadn’t felt before.
God, the woman and the effect she was having on me.
My Jeep seemed to drive itself in one direction.
Not Frank’s Bar.
Not the gym, or my apartment.
Not to my brother’s.
To the bungalow where Sunny Harper was waiting for me.
I didn’t think, just drove. Just a few minutes with Sunny, a reprieve from my shit afternoon, then I’d take Max back to my brother’s and then head back into town and sit in the Chief’s office until he pushed through the damn warrant.
The meeting with Briana Morgan hadn’t been a total bust. I learned that the Black Bandit had something to lose. Something that made him cut a deal.
A weakness.
I was damn good at exploiting weaknesses.
Two things bugged me, though. One, why didn’t she just come out and confirm that Kenzo Rees was the Black Bandit? Why so protective of him? Two, most importantly, what was she hiding?
Why?
I made a mental note to spend the evening looking into Miss Morgan, her social media, public records, where she went to school, hell, anything to find a link that could lead to the Black Bandit, which could lead me to Kenzo Rees.
I needed to find the son of a bitch.
I needed food.
I needed a shower.
I needed a freaking pain pill.
I needed… something.
A reflection in the rearview mirror caught my attention. My gaze narrowed as the bumper of a truck edged around a corner behind me, disappearing as I took another corner.
I was almost half way to the bungalow and hadn’t passed a single car since turning off the highway. No one lived down that road, and aside from the occasional hunter or wandering stoner, no one drove down that road.
I shifted my focus back and forth between the rearview mirror and the road ahead of me.
I slowed.
Look closer… Briana’s words echoed in my ear.
I peered in the mirror.
Look closer…
And then I saw it, the dented hood of Darby’s truck.
Son of a bitch.
I gassed it, sending Max stumbling backward, clawing at the seat. I pulled a U-turn, my tires spinning out as I skidded back onto the road and hit the gas. Beams of the setting sun blurred the truck just ahead of me. My jaw clenched as I accelerated, lining up for a perfect head-on collision. A cloud of dust burst into the sky suggesting Darby had slammed his brakes. A horn blasted through the air.
I kept on the gas, faster, faster, until finally slamming the brakes and skidding to a stop an inch from Darby’s hood.
“Stay,” I growled at Max as dust blurred everything around the Jeep.
I climbed out, my heart pounding. I pulled my gun from my holster as I hurled myself onto the hood of his truck and threw myself over because there wasn’t enough room between the vehicles.
“Out.”
Dust swirled around us.
When the door didn’t budge, I reached through the open window, grabbed Darby’s shirt collar and dragged his ass onto the dirt road. I dropped him, sending him stumbling away from me.
I slammed the truck door and squared off with him, gun in hand.
“What the fuck are you doing, son?”
Beads of sweat rolled down the side of my face, but that was nothing compared to the flush of heat on the rookie’s cheeks.
“I… uh…” His gaze remained fixed on my gun. “Put down the gun, dude.”
“Not until you tell me why you’ve been following me.”
The rookie ran his fingers through his oily hair, muttering something under his breath.
“You have two fucking seconds, Darby.”
“I was told to, alright?” He blurted. “Colson asked me to keep an eye on you.”
“Why?”
“Because he thinks you’ve gone over the edge. A loose cannon. Wanted me to keep a bead on you, that’s all.”
Loose cannon.
“I promise,” he stammered. “That’s all.”
I holstered my gun. “Well, you failed him, kid. I saw you the moment I walked into Frank’s the other night. Seen your every move since.”
“Shit.” Darby began pacing. “Freaking shit.” His steps were quick, erratically changing positions. I narrowed my eyes and watched him. I wasn’t the only man on the edge.
A breeze swept past, clearing the dust and sending a flurry of sable fur shooting out of the Jeep like a cannon, sharp, quick barks.
Familiar barks.
Darby froze, eyes rounded in terror as the dog barreled toward him, stopping inches from his untied shoe. Max bounced, pawed, his nose in the air, sniffing, sniffing, sniffing. Exactly as he had done earlier while Sunny was training him to sniff out the third person from the night of her attack. The frantic sniffing was nothing like when he’d met Darby at Sunny’s house the night of the vandalism. This was different.
This was the turning point.
My eyes narrowed as my hand slid back to my gun. I stepped closer.
“Max.” The dog didn’t hear me, didn’t budge. “Max, settle!”
The dog stopped instantly, recoiled, and joined me at my heels.
Darby gaped at me.
My pulse roared in my ears.
“What did you do after photographing the Voodoo Tree in the woods?” I pulled the gun from my belt, kept it low, but it kept it loud.
The flush drained from the kid’s cheeks.
“The evening of Seagrave’s funeral,” I repeated, seething. “The night of Sunny Harper’s attack in the park. The night some mystery person ran out of the woods and shot a hole through Julian Griggs’ face. Answer me, Darby, what did you do after meeting me at the shrine?”
“I…” his gaze drifted to my gun.
“Where. Did you. Go?”
I inched closer. Max growled at my hip.
“I did it!” His scream exploded out of a pale face, bulging eyes, wild with adrenaline. “Okay? I did it! I killed Julian Griggs. Pastor Griggs’ son. I freaking did it.”
The confession poured from his lips like an inmate on death row.
I fisted his uniform collar and pulled him off the ground.
“Did you fucking hurt Sunny?” With my other hand, I lifted the gun to face. “Did you fucking hurt Sunny?”
“No.” His answer was barely audible. “No… I promise… no… I pushed her to the ground to get her away from Julian. I saved her life. No… Jagg…”
My body shook with rage. “I’m going to ask you again and I swear to God I will put a bullet in your head if you don’t tell me the truth. Did you hurt Sunny?”
He tried to shake his head against my choke hold. His feet kicked back and forth, dangling above my own.
I released my hand and watched him crumble to the ground gasping for breath.
And began sobbing. Like a little freaking girl, sobbing.
I holstered the gun for the second time, took a few steps back and gave him a second to catch the breath I’d stolen from him. Finally, he shifted onto his ass, pulled his knees to his chest and looked up at me.
The kid was absolutely terrified.
“Did you vandalize her home, Darby?”
“No.” He swiped the tears from his cheek. “No. I promise. I was only close by that night because I was following you.”
I heaved out a breath, dragged my fingers through my own hair.
I squatted down in front of him.
“Okay, calm down and tell me, Darby. Tell me everything. And I’m not in the mood for bullshit or beating around the bush, so tell it how it is. Nothing more, nothing less. What happened that night?”
It took a solid ten damn minutes for the kid to get his full story out. It went something
like this:
After photographing the shrine at the Voodoo Tree, Darby had taken it upon himself to search the surrounding woods for more signs of witchery. What he got was someone bolting out of the woods and attacking Sunny Harper. He claims he hesitated, not sure what to do, but once the man—we know now to be Griggs—started beating Sunny, Darby took action. An honorable act and one that saved Sunny’s life. Once Griggs engaged Darby in hand to hand, Darby pulled his gun and shot. Twice. After realizing he’d blown the kid’s face off—and seeing his first dead body, by his own hand—Darby lost his shit and bolted while Sunny was dragging herself up from the ground. He said he watched old man Erickson pull up. The man never even saw him.
“Hang on a minute. Your uniform was clean, though, when you responded to dispatch ten minutes later and showed up at the scene.”
He nodded. “I had a spare shirt in my patrol car. I ran back to the car, and by the time I was getting there, Tanya was radioing me to the scene. I threw up, changed my shirt, and went back. I had blood on my pants and I was sure you’d notice. But you didn’t.”
I didn’t notice. Christ, I didn’t notice blood all over the rookie’s pants. Holy shit. Sunny had distracted me from second one.
“Why didn’t you come clean? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Seriously?” Darby’s voice pitched. “I am brand new to the job, Jagg, and I shot someone in the face. The pastor’s son. I recognized Griggs instantly. We’re around the same age. The freaking pastor’s son,” he emphasized. “I know how this story goes. I’m not stupid. Even though it was justified, I’d be put through the freaking ringer, then pushed to desk duty until the Chief got a reason to fire me. This shit doesn’t fly in small towns. I’d lose everything I worked for.” Tears swam in his eyes. “This job is the first time I’ve ever felt worth something. Like I was doing something that mattered. Like people respected me. First time since I was a stupid, nerdy, little kid.”
“You had multiple times you could have come clean to me.”
“Bullshit. You’ve had your head so far up Sunny’s ass, I felt like I couldn’t say anything that wouldn’t set you off. And besides, every second that passed, I felt like I was in too far. Then when I saw how everyone was questioning you? About your decisions? The great, mighty Max Jagger? Hell, I was asked to follow you, for Christ’s sake. And you didn’t even shoot a kid in the face.” He shook his head. “I’d be out the door and bullied out of town. I’d never get another law enforcement job in my life.”
It was true. Every bit of it. … Including my head being up Sunny’s ass.
I couldn’t help but pity the poor kid.
Fuck.
My hands fisted at my sides. It suddenly felt like my world was spinning out of control.
“Get up.”
Darby’s face tilted upward.
“Get off the ground. Grab your balls; get up.”
The rookie pulled himself off the ground, his uniform covered in dirt, streaks of dried tears down his cheeks.
“Wipe your face.”
He swiped the back of his hand over his cheeks.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well. What are we going to do now?”
He blinked. “We?”
“Gotta come up with something, right?”
Hope sparked in his swollen eyes. “Anything. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it, Jagg. Anything.”
“First. Grow up. Man up. If you’re going to be in this job, you need to hold your head up, square your shoulders, and remind yourself every damn day that it’s your town. Stop taking orders, stop following me around. Carve your own path. And start with the damn gym.”
He blinked again.
“Every single day, I want you to start your morning in the gym. Put on some muscle, kid. That way, the next time someone engages you in hand to hand combat, you won’t have to blow their face off.” I turned, walked back to my Jeep, pulled a plastic container from the back and hurled it at him. “Protein. Tastes like shit, but drink it. Bulk up. Become someone you’re proud of. Someone people don’t want to mess with. You’ll be the rookie for a while and they’ll treat you like one, but that doesn’t mean you have to accept it. Prove them wrong. Be the first in the gym every morning, be the first in the office every day. Work your ass off, above and beyond. Do something to make them respect you. It’s time to man up, Darby.”
He took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. Man up. Got it.”
“Good. Here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re not going to say a word about this to anyone. Not a word. You got that? Not a single one.”
He nodded, eyes wide.
I continued, “You’re going to go home, stay home, stay out of this for a while. Tell Colson you’re still following me, whatever you need to do to appease him, but stay low until I find the Black Bandit. You got that?”
“We can pin it on him.” Darby’s eyes flared with excitement. “On Kenzo Rees, the Bandit. We can pin it on him. He shot Seagrave, then Griggs… while trying to get to Sunny, perhaps? It makes sense. It fits. We can pin it on him.”
“We can’t pin it on him until we find him, can we?”
He nodded, color beginning to return to his cheeks. “Okay. Yes.”
“Now, get home. Mouth shut. Man up.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned to head back to the Jeep when—
“Jagg?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Thank me when it’s over.”
Something in my gut told me the end was coming soon, but only if I wasn’t too blind to see it. I climbed into my Jeep, ordered Max in the back, and watched Darby—the mystery third person from Sunny’s attack—reverse down the road.
My stomach rolled.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it. The man who killed Julian Griggs was not only right under my nose, but was helping on the fucking case.
Why hadn’t I seen it? Why hadn’t I put that piece of the puzzle together? The kid had blood on his pants, for Christ’s sake, and I missed that. I didn’t even consider the very obvious fact that Darby fit perfectly into the timeframe and location to be the mystery third person.
I didn’t miss shit like this. Hell, my entire career—my reputation—was built on noticing the smallest clues that everyone else overlooked. It’s what made me good at my job.
I was one mistake away from being told to turn in my badge. My life. The only fucking thing I knew. Why, all of a sudden, wasn’t that my primary focus? My primary concern? Why wasn’t I doing everything in my power to keep my job, instead of sabotaging it?
There was only one explanation for my sudden insanity.
Sunny Harper. The beguiling fallen angel as enchanting and hypnotizing as a siren, sending men to their knees with a single sparkle of those green eyes.
Hell, she’d said herself that she wasn’t good for me.
She was right.
She was blinding me.
How many details had I missed since laying eyes on the enchantress?
The thought made me want to slam my fist through the windshield.
I was embarrassed.
I was slipping. Colson was right.
I was slipping.
And I knew why.
… And I knew exactly what I had to do.
38
Jagg
The last of the sun’s rays painted a blazing sky as I rolled to a stop behind Sunny’s truck.
I clicked off the phone and stared at the bungalow.
A minute passed.
I watched the bushes and trees sway in the evening breeze, a static white noise against the heat bugs. Fireflies danced around the blooming forsythias, pops of yellow gold against the growing shadows of dusk.
Max bulleted out of the Jeep the moment we stopped, a wagging tail fading into the long trunks of pine. Me on the other hand? I couldn’t seem to move.
Part of me wanted to shove the Jeep into reverse, drive back to my rat-hole apartment and focus only on
work. Forget about Sunny. Another part of me—the most alarming part—wanted to pack a bag, head for the border, and forget everything. Maybe become a bartender in a small town where no one knew my name. Or, maybe just never work another day in my life. Rot on the beach somewhere until my time came to face all the demons I’d been pushing away.
I stared at the sliver of the window I could see through the yellow bushes. It was dark in the bungalow and I wondered what Sunny was doing. If she was watching me.
If she’d hate me after tonight.
Of course she would.
But it was something I had to do.
With that thought, a weird trickle of nerves had me pulling the keys from the ignition. I’d be okay. I’d always been alone. I wasn’t good in relationships, or anything to do with women, let’s be honest. This was for the best. I had nothing to offer a woman, or a family. Hell, I’d be doing Sunny a favor by cutting ties with her. Regardless of what my brother had said—or hadn’t said, for that matter.
After Darby’s taillights had faded in the distance, I’d called Ryder. When I asked him if he could do me another favor, he’d said no problem. When I told him that favor was to put Sunny up in one of his spare rooms and be her bodyguard until I found Rees, then escort her back home, where I’d never see her again, he’d said, “You sure?”
You sure?
You sure?
With those two little words my mute-brother had sent off a bomb in my heart. Although Ryder’s contact with human civilization was shoddy at best, he’d obviously picked up on something—with me, with her.
Was I sure?
Fuck.
I stuffed my phone and keys in my pocket and got out, leaving everything else behind.
Two squirrels skittered across the iron gate, the roar of the heat bugs nearly drowning out the waves crashing in the distance. The forest was buzzing with activity. With energy. Anxiety.
The full moon effect, no doubt about it.
I was exhausted, pissed-off, hungry and in pain. And nervous. I was a freaking nervous wreck as I pushed through the front door.
The bungalow was dark, the sweeping windows glowing with the setting sun. A candle was lit on the fireplace mantel, the bed was made, and Sunny’s bag was tucked neatly in the corner.
Jagger (Steele Shadows Investigations) Page 26