Flaw-Abiding Citizen (The Worst Detective Ever Book 6)

by Christy Barritt

  POT gasped, her eyes scrunched and watery. Without missing a beat, she dove after it. Before she reached it, Jackson dove on top of her.

  I tried to step in. Kind of. Only I had no idea how to do that or what to do. So I did the next best thing: I stood there awkwardly.

  Finally, Jackson caught her arms and twisted them behind her back until she moaned with defeat. After cuffing her, he stood, wiped the grit from his face, then jerked her to her feet.

  “You need to start talking,” he muttered.

  POT raised her chin and remained silent. Sand formed a raccoon mask around her eyes. Her mouth was frozen in a sneer.

  But we had her. When Jackson took her in to be interrogated, maybe we could get some answers.

  “Fine, we’ll escort you to headquarters,” Jackson muttered.

  He pushed her toward his truck and reached for his phone, to call in backup, I assumed.

  The woman suddenly twisted out of his grip and darted away.

  Right into the road.

  In front of an oncoming car.

  A mix of squealing brakes and screams filled the air. Burning rubber saturated the atmosphere. Tragedy hung heavily in the moment.

  I jerked my gaze away, too horrified to comprehend this right now.

  She’d just killed herself.

  But why?

  I knew. Deep down inside, I knew.

  She’d been willing to die rather than let us take her alive.

  Chapter Four

  Jackson drove me to my place after we’d spent two hours at the station. I’d given my statement and had then waited while Jackson did his police thing.

  From what I gathered, the woman was carrying no ID, her car was stolen, and they were still running her prints.

  But I knew who she was.

  She was a member of the Barracudas, a criminal organization suspected of distributing drugs, weapons, and credit card skimmers. That was just scratching the surface. My mom was somehow involved, and she’d promised me they were working for the greater good—whatever that meant.

  I knew they were large, their reach was strong—even international—and they were dangerous. I had no idea how my mom had gotten involved with them, but she had. Apparently she was the only reason I remained alive. I was still trying to comprehend that.

  Jackson had been quiet on the drive—in between phone calls—and I could tell he was beating himself up. I waited until we stood outside my condo door before I brought anything up. The sun set on the Albemarle Sound behind him, creating a stunning picture that I just wanted to drink in.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” I rested my hand on his chest and felt his heart thumping beneath my fingers.

  His jaw flexed. “I should have anticipated what she might do.”

  “Who could have? Most people aren’t willing to die for a cause.”

  He shook his head, and I could tell he was still wrestling with the thought. I wanted to find the words to make things better, but I wasn’t sure there were any. Instead, I squeezed his arm and gave him space.

  I hoped it was enough, though I doubted it was. Jackson took his job seriously, and failure was never an option.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and looked at me, seeming to shift his thoughts. “Please stay here at your place. Until we know what’s going on and where Leonard is, I need to know you’re safe.”

  I nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “I’ll stay here.”

  His shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly. “Thank you. I’m going to have an officer keep watch outside your place, just in case.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You mean Jenkins? The one you stationed here over a week ago?”

  He shrugged and inched closer. “You noticed?”

  “Of course.” People didn’t call me a wannabe detective for nothing.

  “I didn’t think you’d approve.”

  “I think it’s sweet . . . and slightly intrusive. But mostly sweet.”

  “Oh, Joey.” He pulled me into a hug.

  And I melted there. Totally melted in his arms with my head tucked beneath his chin as I listened to his steady heart pounding away. As I drank in his spicy scent. As I relished the taut pull of his muscles.

  I could have stayed there all day and been perfectly content.

  He stepped back—though barely—and his gaze caught mine.

  “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” His voice was soft and raspy.

  “I’m not sure.” I was being coy, but since I wasn’t making a secret of it, it was okay.

  “You’re radiant.” He cupped my neck and jaw. Ran his thumb over my cheek. His gaze held an amazing depth of affection. “When this is over, I want to take you on a date, Joey. A real date.”

  My heart pounded out of control at both the possibility and at Jackson’s nearness right now. At the tenderness in his eyes. At the level of concern he constantly showed for me. I could really get used to having him in my life. In fact, the thought of not having him in my future caused an ache to form in my chest.

  “I would like that,” I said.

  His eyes went to my lips, and he drew me closer. I wrapped my arms around his waist, each of my nerves tingling with anticipation.

  Our lips met. Lingered. Sizzled.

  Then the door opened behind us.

  Zane, my friend and temporary housemate, stood there.

  Jackson scooted back, one hand still at my waist, and his gaze darkened.

  “Oh, hey, Jackson.” Zane popped a puffy rice crisp—I knew exactly what they were because I’d bought them—into his mouth. “Hey, Joey. I thought I heard something out here. I was just making sure it wasn’t a dangerous assassin coming to live out an episode of Relentless. Unfortunately, that’s been a little too close to reality lately, hasn’t it?”

  He laughed, but it fell flat—awkwardly flat. He had no idea.

  “No assassin,” Jackson muttered. “It’s just me, and I was just leaving.”

  He didn’t like Zane staying here. I knew that. But I couldn’t leave my friend out in the cold. Zane had just gone through a terrible ordeal and was trying to get his life back together. I knew this would be a safe place for him to recoup—but only temporarily.

  “Don’t let me run you off. I can totally go to my room to give you guys some privacy, if you want. I don’t want to impose.” He did a number sign with his fingers. “Hashtag: imposingisforlosers.”

  “Jackson has to get back to work anyway,” I said, wishing that he didn’t. Wishing that we could act like a normal couple doing normal couple things like dinner and long walks on the beach without fear of losing our lives. And I wanted to kiss him again.

  Man, did I ever want to kiss him again. A real kiss, not a quick one, like the one that had just happened.

  “I’ll call later.” Jackson’s eyes latched on to mine, and he squeezed my waist, letting go with what felt like reluctance. “See you.”

  As soon as he left, disappointment bit deep. This wasn’t the way I wanted my evening to go. To end.

  I watched as Jackson disappeared down the stairs before I turned back to Zane. His timing . . . well, his timing had been plain awful. But it was done, and now I needed to move on.

  “You look like you’ve had it.” Zane popped another crisp into his mouth, acting totally oblivious to my irritation. “Rough day?”

  Everything that had happened today played in a fast-forward-like montage in my mind, complete with a grunge-metal soundtrack. “To say the least.”

  “Is it Jackson’s fault? Do I need to beat him up for you? ’Cause I can chase him down.”

  Zane was teasing . . . I thought. Certainly he was.

  “No, the fault is all mine,” I said. “Well, all mine and that woman who faked a breakdown.”

  “Huh?”

  I realized I probably shouldn’t be out here. As the hair rose on my arms, I turned and scanned the landscape around me, looking for any signs of trouble.

  Barracudas. Leonard. My mom
.

  The trinity of danger in my life right now.

  I saw nothing, but that didn’t mean nothing was out there.

  Finally, I nodded toward the condo. “We should get inside. I’ll explain things there.”

  Zane and I sat on the floor around my coffee table, drinking smoothies and munching on some hummus and sliced cucumbers while Bob Marley played on a Bluetooth speaker behind us. Just as I finished telling Zane about today’s events, my phone rang.

  I recognized the number right away. “It’s the mayor.”

  “This would be a good time for me to go floss.” Zane stood. “After being in jail, I’ll never take that for granted again.”

  “Well, dental health is important, I suppose.” How could I be talking about something so inconsequential at a time like this? Yet with Zane it felt normal, and that fact helped me relax.

  Mayor Roger Allen and I had a strange relationship. He loved getting PR for this area, and he apparently loved me because he’d approved me to tag along with the police department in exchange for some of that good PR.

  He was a jolly man with a slight lisp and a rounded bald head. He’d been nothing but kind and slightly manipulative toward me since we first met. I figured having the mayor on your side was never a bad thing.

  I decided to take his call, just in case it had something to do with today’s events. Maybe he’d offer some insider information on the investigation. I migrated to the white leather couch and leaned back into the comfy cushions, pulling my legs beneath me.

  “If it isn’t my favorite Joey Darling,” the mayor started.

  He always buttered me up before asking for favors.

  I braced myself for the thus-said favor. “Hello, Mayor. Fancy hearing from you.”

  “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time. But I have a question for you.”

  And there it was.

  “What question is that?” I asked.

  “So, every year we give a key to the city to one person who’s done so much for this area,” he said. “This year, I’d like to give it to you.”

  My eyelids fluttered with surprise. “Me?”

  “That’s right. You’ve worked tirelessly for good causes around here, Joey. I can’t think of a better honorary citizen.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m flattered.” Truly, I was. Perhaps he’d also forgotten about all the trouble I’d caused or been a part of.

  “Well, we’re flattered that you’re here. Now, the ceremony is on Saturday. Could you mark off that date?”

  “Of course.” I had nothing going on in my life right now other than looking for my dad, so I should be able to squeeze this in. Provided that the Barracudas didn’t capture, torture, or kill me in the meantime.

  My thoughts were supposed to be lighthearted, but they were closer to reality than I wanted to admit.

  “Excellent. There’s one more thing I wanted to mention before the event.” He offered a dramatic pause. “I plan to announce at the ceremony that I’m running for senate.”

  My eyelids fluttered again. “What?”

  Certainly I hadn’t heard him correctly. He was Mr. Nags Head. He loved this place. So much that I halfway expected him to wear a crown of seaweed and a new cologne made from the sweat of heat-savaged tourists.

  “It’s true. I’ve always had political aspirations, and I figured now was as good a time as any to take charge of those aspirations.”

  “Well . . . that’s great news, Mayor. I think you’d make a great senator.”

  “Thank you. Don’t answer this right now. Take time and think about it. But I’d love an endorsement from you after this is official. Maybe a commercial? I don’t know yet. Things are just now falling in place. Think about it?”

  “Of course.” I had no idea what Mayor Allen’s policies were. I didn’t even know his political party. But I would consider endorsing him, I supposed. Why not? I mean, I’d done a commercial before for an airline I’d never flown on. Then again, that wasn’t my proudest moment.

  “Wonderful. Okay, I’ll be in touch, Joey. Have a good evening.”

  I hit End and leaned back. I just never knew what each day would bring. Today had brought Jackson and me solidifying our relationship, finding a location where my dad had stayed, being held up at gunpoint and watching the perpetrator kill herself, and now being made an honorary citizen.

  What a whirlwind.

  But all I really cared about was my dad.

  I felt more confused than ever.

  He’d been at that house. But what did that mean for me? Where was Dad now? And how was I going to find him?

  The mayor breezed back into my thoughts. He liked me for my social media prowess. I did have a great following. More than four million now. I could hardly keep up with my fan page lately, ever since my movie with Jessica Alba had released.

  Why couldn’t I use that very social media to help find my dad? My pulse spiked.

  Why hadn’t I thought of this earlier? I grabbed my computer and started formulating what I would say.

  Zane returned—he must have heard me end the call—and he plopped down beside me, baby carrots in his hand this time. Seriously, he ate more than a teenager going through puberty.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  A surge of excitement rushed through me as I remembered my plan. “I’m going to put out a call on social media about my dad. If he’s alive, certainly someone out there has seen him.”

  “Oh . . . good plan. Look at you, Joey. You and Raven are more alike all the time.”

  “Why didn’t I think of it earlier?” Seriously. This should have been the first thing I thought of.

  “Good question. I guess you’ve been distracted.”

  That was right. I had been. But no more. Nothing was going to get in my way this time.

  I turned my screen toward Zane and hit a few more keys. Then I reread what I’d written. “How does this sound?”

  Chapter Five

  I’d tossed and turned all night, as my thoughts wouldn’t settle. Horrible nightmares about my father being injured or purposefully harmed in that dirty, outdated house kept filling my mind.

  Finally I got up at 6:00 a.m. Early for me. Since Zane was still sleeping, I’d have my place to myself for a little while, so at least there was that. I’d quickly grown accustomed to living alone after my divorce and appreciated having my own space.

  As I walked past the couch, I plucked up Zane’s sweatshirt and shoes and placed them outside his bedroom door.

  We were going to have to have a talk about staying tidy. It was one thing if I had to contend with my own messes, but tending to someone else’s? No thank you. That was an entirely different story.

  I grabbed some coffee—already prepared thanks to a timer and to Zane, which made me temporarily forgive his slobbish tendencies—and sat on my couch to sort through yesterday’s events. It didn’t take long. I just went around and around with things I already knew, which wasn’t particularly helpful.

  Since I was getting nowhere, I texted Jackson. Are you awake yet?

  He texted right back. Yep. Want to do breakfast?

  With Jackson? Absolutely.

  We decided to meet at Jackson’s favorite donut shop. Cue the cop in a donut-shop joke. Yep, every time. It was all I could think about. I told myself I wouldn’t order the maple and bacon glazed this time, knowing good and well that was exactly what I’d do.

  I couldn’t wait to meet him.

  Jackson was one of the few people who understood exactly how much my father’s disappearance had impacted me. He knew about the grief I’d gone through, about my determination to find my dad, and about how this was so important to me that I’d put my life on hold.

  As an officer of the law, he’d looked into my dad’s disappearance. He’d even kept a file on it. I knew he was doing what he could to help.

  But just having his support meant so much to me.

  Before I even reached my car, I ran into Winsto
n Corbina.

  Winston lived above me—he owned this building, for that matter—and he was one of the wealthiest men in the area, if not on the East Coast. And he was highly suspect in my mind for many things—including possible involvement in my dad’s disappearance or with the Barracudas.

  “Joey!” The Burt Reynolds’s look-alike slowed his steps to match mine as we trotted down the stairs. “How are you?”

  I couldn’t help but wonder how much he knew. Did he know where my father was? Did he know about what happened yesterday down in Hatteras? Was he a personal friend of my mom?

  Even more so, what if he was the man only referred to as the Lux? I had no idea who held that title. I only knew it was what the Barracudas called the man in charge.

  I shoved my questions aside. “I’m doing okay. How about you?”

  “Staying busy.”

  On the surface, this conversation seemed so normal. Yet beneath that very surface, I couldn’t help but feel like things were simmering and unsaid. Like he knew more. Like he was playing some kind of game with me.

  I hated games. Except The Hunger Games. I’d been entertained by those movies for hours.

  “Guess who just became the latest investor in Bird’s Eye Studios,” Winston said as we reached the first landing.

  Bird’s Eye Studios was the company that had produced Relentless back in LA.

  I swallowed hard, almost afraid to answer. “You?”

  He grinned like the proverbial cat who’d eaten the canary.

  I feared I was the canary.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Who would have ever thought that you and I might be working together one day?”

  “Who would have thought it?”

  The last thing I wanted was for Winston Corbina to possibly have a say-so in my show if Netflix decided to pick it up. That just seemed wrong on so many levels, not to mention highly suspicious. There had to be more to this.

  He was a real estate and tech guy.

  “I had no idea you were interested in Hollywood,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice light.

  “I wanted to expand my interests, and I thought this would be fun. Really, I didn’t think you’d be all that surprised.” He stared at me, watching my expression with an entertained look in his eyes.