by Staci Hart
She moved to follow, but hadn’t gotten five steps before the door burst open again and Chester bolted around the building and toward the alley behind the bar.
Josie smiled as she chased him. That alley was a dead end.
Her boots slapped the wet pavement as she made it to the mouth of the alley, and Chester had come to a stop at the end. He turned and faced her.
“Well, hello there, Miss Josie. Fancy meeting you here.” His words were slow and drawn out, and he leaned a little as he tried to stay upright.
“Hey, Chester," she said genially, though her body was tense, ready to move if he did. "We gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?”
A deep voice with a southern drawl said from behind her, “Oh, I don’t know about you, Chester, but I always find that the hard way is a little more fun.”
Josie turned and looked up, and when their eyes met, her heart shot into her throat. Jon’s hair was damp and flipping at the ends from the rain, and his leather jacket was dotted with condensation. His eyes were so blue, so bright that she blinked to break contact, doing her best to focus on the anger bubbling up in her instead of his crooked smile as he looked down at her.
"What are you doing here, Jon?"
"I got a call from Jerry J's a minute ago to pick up Chester, and I was in the neighborhood. Figured I’d stop by the Duke.”
She huffed. “How is that possible? They’re only supposed to call one PI.” Her eyes narrowed. "Wait, did you set this up?"
"Don't flatter yourself, honey."
"Don't call me honey, asshole. They called me hours ago, and I was here first.”
“I hate to break it to you, but even though I got the call after you, I was here first. I was inside when Chester came ambling in." Jon’s slow smile never left his jerk face. His stupid, hot, jerk face.
She scowled. Bastard.
“Hey, now Jo, no need to get mad.”
“I’m not mad.” She was past mad and edging into blind fury.
Jon's eyes moved behind her, and his smile stretched wide. He leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Well, don’t look now, but I think Chester’s got a little something for you.”
Josie turned and rolled her eyes when she saw Chester swinging his naked dick at her.
“Jesus Christ, Chester. Put that thing away.”
She trotted over to the old man, giving him a wide berth as she made her way behind him, cuffs in hand. Jon covered her from the front, getting the full assault to ensure that Chester didn’t make a break for it. Not like he would have gotten very far with his pants around his ankles.
Josie chuckled, her anger tempered by a small margin. “Why do we have to do this every time, Chester?”
He was almost pouting. “I’m too pretty for jail, Miss Josie.”
“Well, you end up there anyway, so why not just go with it?”
Chester turned to Jon, who looked even more amused than she did. Chester's eyes twinkled under his salt and pepper caterpillar eyebrows, and he gave a wistful smile from behind his grizzly beard. “She doesn’t understand, but I bet you do, Mister Landreaux. Nothing makes you feel more alive than being on the run.”
Jon walked up and grabbed a hold of Chester’s bicep with an understanding nod. “You know, I get your meaning. But now we’re gonna have to take you in.”
“Naturally.”
Chester tripped on his pants when he tried to take a step, and Jon tightened his grip to keep him on his feet.
“Whoa there, buddy.”
Jon couldn’t help but smile when he heard Josie’s smoky voice from the other side of Chester.
“Somebody needs to pull up his pants, Jon.” It was more of a directive than a statement.
He looked around the old man into Josie’s velvety, brown eyes. “Just watch out for his business while you’re down there.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. Not me. You.”
Jon raised an eyebrow. “Rock, Paper, Scissors?”
Josie mirrored him. “You’re on.”
They each held a fist in front of them and air-pounded in time. Josie chose rock, and Jon landed on scissors.
Josie grinned, and Jon couldn’t even be mad at his misfortune, not when she was happy. Every time he saw her, he tried to coax a laugh out of her. It was rare indeed when he succeeded, and he figured that pulling up Chester's pants was a small price to pay to see that smile, like sunshine from behind a raincloud, always gone too soon.
“Like you said," she said, smug as hell, "watch out for his business. No one wants a dick in the ear. Chester would do that, wouldn’t you Chester?”
“It’s true,” Chester admitted with a shrug.
Jon sighed and ran a hand over his mouth, then stepped behind Chester, deciding that his ass end was the best bet.
“You always pick scissors,” Josie said as he bent down and grabbed Chester's pants.
“No, I don’t.” Jon pulled the dirty khakis up.
“Yes, you do.”
Jon glanced at Josie, who wore a know-it-all look if he'd ever seen one, then peered over Chester’s shoulder as he shook the skip's pants in an attempt to wiggle his dick back into them, “Well, I will say that scissors are the best of all choices in the game.”
“How so?”
“AHA!” he cheered as he got Chester put away, reaching around to zip and button the man’s pants before grabbing his arm again. “Rocks, well they’re just unrefined, and paper ... well, paper’s got no personality.”
“And scissors are superior?” Josie asked as the trio made their way out of the alley.
“Sure, I mean, think about it. They’re sharp and shiny. One might even call them sophisticated. You could use scissors for good or evil. They’re like the multi-tool of Rock, Paper, Scissors.”
“Except that they’re all equal in the game.”
Jon shrugged. “Still, superior as an individual player.”
As they rounded the corner of the building, Josie tugged Chester toward her car.
“Oh, no. I’ll take him. You can follow us.” Jon insisted.
“And have you shake me and get there first? No way. I’ll take him.”
“All right, then I’m riding with you.”
She stiffened. “And you can take a cab back to The Duke from the station.”
He nodded. “Works for me.”
Josie gave him a look that said she wasn't happy with the arrangement before she hauled Chester to her car. Jon stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched her walk ahead of him. Even mad and uncomfortable, she was beautiful. Her hair shone like copper, and his fingers tingled as he remembered the feeling of the silky strands between them. His heart ached in his chest, knowing he’d lost any rights to touch her after how he’d handled things, and he wished for the millionth time he could go back and do it all over. Do it better. Do it right.
Josie could feel Jon's eyes on her, and her brow furrowed as she put Chester in her back seat. She climbed in and turned the key, and Jon slipped in next to her, smelling like rain. She swallowed hard.
Should have made him sit in the back.
He grabbed her auxiliary cable and held up the end. “You mind?”
“Rude. But no, I don’t mind if you hijack my radio.”
He plugged his phone in, and trumpets blared in the speakers as “Ring of Fire” began.
She shook her head as she backed out of the parking spot and took off toward the police station. “You are such a southern boy.”
He looked at her like she had nine heads. “Southern or not, who doesn’t like Johnny Cash?”
Chester drunkenly sang along from the back seat.
Jon hitched his thumb at Chester, and a smile crept across his lips. “See?”
Josie’s eyes were on the road as she smiled back, despite herself. She glanced over at him as he looked away. The windows were cracked, and the wind whipped his hair out from behind his ear and across his face. His hand moved to tuck it back in place, and his fingers grazed the bridge of his n
ose. She watched every movement with appreciation.
She looked forward and took a breath as Johnny sang about the fire that consumes hearts when they are stupid enough to fall in love.
Josie cleared her throat and turned the radio down, though Chester kept singing. They were otherwise silent through the short distance to the station, the quiet accompanied by the occasional glance from Jon, who was clearly entertained by Chester's enthusiasm.
They turned the flasher in and made their way out of the station, neither knowing what to say as they descended the cement stairs, pausing for a moment when they reached the sidewalk.
Josie stuck her hands in her jacket pockets, suddenly not wanting him to leave. Guilt crept its way into her mind for being an ass to him. It wasn’t like he’d planned on crashing her job. She didn’t think at least. “Listen, I can take you back to your car if you want.”
Jon waved her off. “Don’t worry about it, Jo. Really.” He walked backwards with a smile on his face. “I’ll see you around, okay?” he said with a wink before he turned and walked away.
She watched Jon for a little too long, then found her sense again and turned for her car, trying to talk herself down like she did every time she saw him.
He hurt you, she told herself.
He left you, she pleaded with her heart.
He chose her, was the only thought that made a dent, and she found her resolve as she drove away.
It was near dusk as Josie walked to her parents’ house in Hell’s Kitchen. She’d collected her check from Jerry J’s Bonds for turning in Chester, run errands, and even went for a jog, though she figured she should put ‘jog’ in quotations, since it ended up being more of a sprint. But despite it all, Jon was still on her mind as she climbed the stairs to the Campbell residence.
Sunday dinner at the Campbell house was a loud and loving affair, and one that no member of the family was exempt from. Josie simultaneously looked forward to the comfort and dreaded the pressure of it all as she took a breath and opened the door.
The smell of pot roast hit her so hard, her mouth watered. Her mother’s cooking was about the only decent eating Josie was acquainted with. Most of her meals were more in the neighborhood of ramen than ribeye.
Josie’s sister, Liz, sat on the couch with her chestnut hair in a messy bun and earbuds in, her fingers banging out a text on her phone. At fifteen, she cared about very little that fell outside of the realm of boys and whatever her friends were into at the moment.
“Hey, Liz.” Josie closed the door behind her.
Liz didn’t look up.
Josie waved a hand in front of her, and she popped out her earbud.
“Huh?” Her eyebrows were up, her eyes big and brown, just like Josie’s.
“Just saying hello. Doing okay?”
“Sure, if you figure ‘complete disaster’ is in the neighborhood of okay.”
“Wow, Liz. Sounds serious.”
“Only if you consider Jamie kissing Ellie’s boyfriend at Ellie’s birthday party serious, which Ellie does.” Liz rolled her eyes. “I don’t, particularly, not since everyone knows Ellie’s boyfriend is an asshole, but it’s been nonstop drama.”
“Ah, the life of a teenage girl,” Josie said with mock nostalgia. “Where’s Mom?”
“Kitchen. Watch out, the boys are in there arguing over cop movies.”
“What’s new? I don’t know why they even bring it up.”
“Because arguing is the number one event in the Campbell Family Olympics. Duh.” Liz laughed and turned back to her phone.
Josie walked into the dining room and leaned over her father’s wide shoulder to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, Daddy.”
He patted her hand and jerked his chin at her brothers where they leaned over the table, so deep in their discussion that neither saw her.
Paul, her older brother, shook his blond head and leaned forward on his meaty forearms. “Mikey, there’s no way you’ll ever convince me. You can’t even put Beverly Hills Cop and Die Hard in the same category.”
Mike, her younger brother, narrowed his eyes. “You know I’m right. Look, I’m not saying that McClane isn’t a badass, I’m just saying that Axel Foley is a better cop.”
Paul waved his hand. “Foley’s smart, but he can’t stay in line.”
“And McClane does? Come on, Paul, you’ve got to do better than that.”
“You’re both wrong.” Her father chimed in. “It’s Riggs and Murtaugh. Every cop is better with a good partner.”
Josie’s heart lurched, and three faces turned to her for a reaction. Not only would she never get to be a cop like she’d always dreamed of, but she’d lost her best friend, her partner, only months before. It was a double whammy comment that he’d made off-hand, but it was the new state of her life. She lived through every day, and inevitably, something ripped the wound open again. She was almost getting used to the feeling.
She smiled back at them, hoping she looked reassuring. “It’s the truth. Everybody needs somebody to watch their back.”
Paul and Mike stood, and Paul, her older brother, pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Jojo.”
She punched him in the side. “One day you’ll quit calling me that.”
He laughed. “Not today.”
“Where’s Gia?”
“My beautiful wife is in the kitchen with Mom and Gran. Tell her I said that, because the more pregnant she gets, the more likely she is to either cry or yell at me. I need all the help I can get.”
Mike, her younger brother, gave her a side hug.
“How’s it going, Mikey?”
He ran a hand through his copper crew cut. “I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be a rookie forever.”
“They’re still razzing you? I figured they’d have found fresh meat.”
“Last week, somebody put shaving cream in my shoes, and yesterday they glitter-bombed my locker.”
Josie laughed. “Oh, Mikey.”
“It’s okay, I got them back by stealing all their deodorant and replacing it with Teen Rave Island Breeze.”
“That was my idea,” her dad said and kissed her temple. “How are you, baby?”
She put on a smile. “I’m fine.”
He sighed and gave her a look that said he didn’t buy it. “Mmhmm. Boys,” he turned to his sons, “get in there and get the dishes so we can set the table, and Jo, go say hi to your Mom.”
“Yes, Sir,” she teased.
“I’ve been a Captain in the PD for twelve years, and I will never get tired of that.” He gave her a wink.
She followed the solid shoulders of her brothers into the kitchen where laughter mingled with the clinking of silverware and plates.
Her mother bustled around the kitchen as she passed stacks of plates to the boys, tucking an errant strand of auburn hair behind her ear that almost instantly began to slip back into her face. Gia slid off her bar stool and waddled around to the stove with her hand on her belly.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Josie’s mother shooed her back to her seat as the boys left the room with armfuls of dinnerware. “You just sit down and finish cooking that baby. Leave dinner to me.”
“Laura, I am so over being an incubator I could scream. I actually did, earlier. Paul had no idea how much rage I could expend on him for drinking out of the milk carton.”
They all laughed, and Josie made her way around the room to greet the women of her family. She came to her grandmother last, who sipped sherry from a small, crystal glass.
“Hello, Josephine,” Gran said with a smile.
“Hello, Josephine,” Josie answered as she gave her grandmother a hug, breathing in the scent of rose water that reminded her of being a little girl.
“And what is new in the life of my favorite private investigator?” Gran brought her lips to her sherry with her gray eyebrows high.
“Well,” Josie said as she took the barstool next to her grandmother, “a few hours ago I was exposed to a sixty-year-old man’s genital
ia, but I guess things could be worse.”
“I’m not sure that I would complain.”
Josie snickered. “He’s not your type. You wouldn’t be impressed with his level of hygiene or sobriety. That’s on top of the fact that he likes to show said genitals to anyone with eyes, solicited or not.”
“He sounds charming,” Gran said with a flourish. “How about you? My opportunity to be choosy about men may have passed, but yours, my dear, has not.”
Josie shifted in her seat and wouldn’t meet Gran’s eyes. “You know I’m too busy with work to date.”
“Yes, yes, so I’ve heard,” she said, half under her breath.
Laura pulled the roast out of the oven, closed the door with her foot, and turned for the dining room. “Everybody, grab a dish and follow me,” she said with the swing of her elbow.
They did as they were told and followed her to the table where the men of the family sat chatting. Josie took her usual seat between Liz and Gran, across from the boys and Gia, who laid a napkin over her giant belly and sighed.
“I can barely even reach my plate.”
Paul laid an arm over the back of his wife’s chair. “Just a few more weeks.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled as everyone loaded their plates and passed dishes around.
“Well,” Laura said as she handed Gran the mashed potatoes, “I’ve got one grandbaby on deck. Who’s going to be next?”
Josie kept her eyes on the roast as she forked it onto her plate. Just don’t, Mom. Not today.
“Don’t look at me.” Mike said as he leaned on the table.
“I don’t know, Mom. If I have anything to do with it, it’ll be my turn,” Liz said, and took a bite of peas. “I know how you really want me to be on 16 and Pregnant. Having a baby’s basically like getting a puppy, right?”
“Don’t even joke about it, Elizabeth Marie. I’ll skin you, and your father will skin any boy stupid enough to even think about it.”
Everyone smiled down at their peas and potatoes, except for Laura, who turned her attention on Josie.
“How about you, Josie? Meet any eligible young men lately?”