Baker’s Law

by Denise McDonald

  “What’s he doing here?” Jax asked.

  Her shoulder’s stiffened. “Like I told you last night, he works here.”

  “Since when?” He shifted into his cop stance, hands on his hips, shoulders and jaw squared.

  She glared at him. “Did you need something, Chief? The shop opens in a few minutes.”

  Chapter Seven

  Marissa wasn’t going to give him any info where the kid was concerned. He’d have to do a little digging on his own to see what was up with the boy. “I wanted to make sure my mother wasn’t too horrible.” He spouted the first thing that came to mind. Forget the fact that he’d come over to ask her out to dinner after she got off work.

  “Your mother?” She frowned up at him.

  “This morning, at the club.”

  She shook her head. “Typical mother-of-the-bride. And well, Bunny is Bunny.” She shrugged and grabbed the handle of the door. “Thanks for checking on me. See ya.” She pulled the door closed.

  He could’ve stopped her, but what else could he say? His sorry excuses were getting depressing. Shit or get off the pot, Old Man Carlisle would tell him. It was time to cut his losses where she was concerned. It wouldn’t stop him from doing his job, though. But with her, he was getting nowhere on the kid and he could only ask so many times and get a lie or non-answer. He tipped his hat, nodded his goodbyes through the glass and walked back to his SUV—cursing himself every step of the way.

  How was it that some woman he hadn’t seen since he was eighteen could turn him all around? He’d never had issues with women back in Austin. Hell, he’d left a broken heart or two when he’d moved back to Oak Hollow. But ten minutes back home and he was running around like a damned fool. He shook his head as he climbed behind the wheel and headed back to the station.

  He pushed through the door and was greeted by a nasty stench and an empty front desk. “Macey? Everything okay?”

  Macey came running from the back of the station. “Jax, I mean, Chief. Sorry.” She was wiping her hands on the front of her shirt. “I burned a pot of coffee.”

  “Is that what the smell is?” Jax propped the door open.

  Macey sat at the front desk. “Grandpop never let me near the kitchenette when he was chief.” She gave a little sniff. “He said I was a food jinx.”

  Jax tried not to laugh. “Don’t worry about it.” He patted her on the shoulder. He started to head back to his office, but stopped. “How long ago did you graduate high school?”

  “Three years ago, why?”

  “Do you recall a boy named Hill? Would have been a freshman.”

  “Hill? Hmm, doesn’t sound familiar.” Macey leaned back in her chair. “I don’t remember. Why, is he in some kind of trouble?”

  Nothing that he wanted to share just yet. He shook his head.

  “Do you want me to ask around?”

  He waved off her comment. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  Jax spent the rest of Saturday going out to calls and working on paperwork at his desk. It was well after six, and half an hour into the evening officers’ shift by the time Jax was ready to call it a day. He walked out to the front of the station to find Otto along with two guys they’d gone to high school with sitting on the dispatcher’s desk. Ada was flirting as hard as her seventy-year-old heart would allow. And God bless them, the men were flirting back with her.

  “Well, if it isn’t the new chief himself.” Brad Davidson slid off the desk and saluted. In school he’d been a stout and sturdy lineman. His belly had grown and his hair had receded since Jax had last seen him, but his jovial smile was the same as it ever was.

  Chris Carpenter on the other hand, he looked built for a fight and ready to take anyone on. In school he’d been on the lean side, but scrappy enough to hold his own. After joining the army, he’d bulked up a little. Coupled with his war-hardened face, he was one mean looking son of a bitch.

  Jax shook both men’s hands. He slapped Otto on the back. “What are y’all doing here?”

  “We came to take you out. To celebrate your new job.” Otto rubbed his hands together. “We won’t take no for an answer. And just in case you try to balk, Ada here was kind enough to guarantee she won’t be sending out any calls for you.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “It’s okay, Chief.” Ada nodded vigorously. “We can handle the typical Saturday night rowdies. You deserve one night to cut loose every now and again.” She winked at him. “You haven’t had one night off since you started on the job.”

  Jax eyed his friends. It didn’t take too much persuasion. He could use his friends to take his mind off of Marissa Llewellyn—something he hadn’t been able to do by himself. And if he managed to unwind in the process, all the better. It’d been a hell of a week. “So where are we headed?”

  “Dinner first. Then to the Blue Spur for drinks.”

  * * *

  Cherry pulled Marissa’s arm as she all but dragged her into the Blue Spur. Sure, Marissa had balked in the parking lot, but she was there now. It wasn’t like she was going to bolt…maybe. Hadn’t she already let Cherry talk her into playing dress-up? She’d borrowed one of her friend’s short dresses—a floral number with a swishy skirt that hit her midthigh—and a pair of high-heeled espadrilles. She’d even let down her ever-present ponytail and let her hair hang loose down her back.

  With her free hand she kept the back of her skirt down as they shuffled through the men waiting at the bar, toward the tables in the back corner near the stage. The house band would play a couple of sets before the main performer, Crane Jepson, came on. Crane was a local guy who played at the Blue Spur at least once a month despite getting some bigger gigs across northern Texas. And Cherry had a secret little crush on him. From what Marissa could tell, the feeling was mutual but for some reason neither had taken any initiative.

  Not that she had any room to talk. When was the last time she’d asked someone out? Hell, when was the last time she’d spoken to a man? Jax Carlisle’s face popped into her head. He was the first man in a long time to stir the slightest interest in her. But he brought nothing but complications with him.

  Not half as complicated as wading through the crowded bar area, though. She yelped as a tall rangy man stepped back onto her foot. She barely heard his quick apology as Cherry made a beeline for her favorite table.

  Luckily, they found a great spot. It was still earlyish. Cherry waved at a couple of girls seated a few tables over. She spoke so low Marissa had to lean in to hear her even though there was no way to be heard over the din of the crowd. “That girl is such a skank.”

  “Then why are you waving at her?”

  Cherry laughed. “I have to be polite.”

  The pair giggled as the waitress stopped in front of them. “What’ll it be, girls?”

  Cherry ordered her usual, a Shiner. Light Blonde, because she was always watching her weight. Marissa was set to order a soda, but decided she might as well go all out. Who knew when the next time she gave herself a night out might be? She ordered a frozen strawberry margarita.

  When the waitress left, they scooted their chairs closer together on the far side of the table so they could hear each other and watch the room as more people filled in.

  “So.” Cherry nudged her shoulder. “Tell me why Hill is staying at your shop.”

  Marissa had given her friend a quick rundown when she’d shown up at the shop that evening to pick her up. Surprisingly, Cherry hadn’t asked too many questions. Marissa leaned her elbows on the table. “No judging.”

  Cherry shrugged. “Okay.”

  “I told you I caught him breaking into my shop one night.”

  “So naturally that means you keep him around?” Her voice was so loud it was a wonder the people at the bar on the other side of the room didn’t turn and stare.

  “Are you going to listen?” Marissa paused as the waitress returned with their drinks. She took a long brain-freezing sip. “His dad ran off and left him all alone.” She
held up her hand when Cherry opened her mouth. “He’s been homeless for well over a year now and no one from school or his neighborhood has gone to any authority to report it. He only sneaked in—” she had to think of it as sneaking in to keep from feeling like she’d completely lost her mind “—when it was too cold outside or if he had a lot of homework.” The little voice in the back of her head once again screamed that she was being foolishly naive, but her gut told her she was doing the right thing. The inner war gave her a headache. She took another sip of her drink.

  “Hill has managed to stay on the honor roll at school. All on his own. His friend came to me and asked me to give him a job and help him out. It was the least I could do.”

  “I know how the situation with your mom affected you. Look, the fact that I’m not jumping to call it in myself proves I trust your instincts.” Cherry sighed. “But, the least you could do was call the police back and turn him in.”

  “Turning him in would be doing something, now, wouldn’t it?” Marissa raised an eyebrow and slowly finished off the rest of her drink.

  “So now you’re frigging Mother Teresa?” Cherry shook her head and laughed, then she drained her beer bottle. Her smile fled. “Don’t look now, but there’re two guys checking us out.” She gave a slight motion with her head.

  Marissa casually looked over her left shoulder. There were indeed two men watching them. One with a full head of shiny—not a hair to be seen. The other had on a huge belt buckle she’d bet her shop hadn’t come from any rodeo but from some store counter. She turned back to her friend. “Joy.”

  Cherry punched her arm. “They’re coming this way.”

  Marissa set her glass down on the table with a little more force than she meant to, but she didn’t have time to worry about it. “Come on.” She grabbed Cherry’s elbow and led her out to the dance floor. She wended her way through the crowd with her friend in tow. Once she’d put several sweaty bodies between them, she stopped and turned to her friend. “They can’t talk to us if they can’t find us.”

  “Smart.” Cherry nodded and swayed her hips in time to the music as she glanced over her shoulder. “Did they follow us?”

  “Not that I can tell.” Marissa matched her friend’s rhythm as they danced to country songs from the early nineties.

  “I need to sit down.” Cherry fanned herself as another song started.

  They pushed their way back out of the crowd to find their table occupied by three young women who were barely legal. “I’m going to get a drink. You want something?” Cherry stood with her head tilted toward the bar.

  “Sure. My treat.” Marissa surreptitiously reached into her bra to get the money she’d stashed there. When her fingers hit nothing but skin she frowned. “Must have shifted.” Cherry moved to shield her from any prying eyes as she continued to hunt for her cash. “I can’t find it.” It wasn’t a whole lot of cash, but her ID was wrapped up in the middle of it.

  “Maybe it fell out while we were dancing,” Cherry said over her shoulder. “Let’s go look for it.”

  Marissa looked from the thinning dance floor to the growing line at the bar. “No, you go get in line. I’ll go back over there and look for it and get the next round.”

  “You sure?”

  Marissa nodded and shoved her friend toward the line then shimmied back across the dance floor.

  She found the spot where they’d been dancing and scanned the floor.

  A slow song came on and people paired off or left the dance floor. It gave Marissa a better view of the parquet in the darkened lights. She was just about to give up when she found the folded bills ten feet to her left. She was bending down to get it when one of the dancers kicked it with the toe of his boot. It skidded to a stop under one of the many booths that lined that side of the floor. Of course, it had to be the one crowded with several rowdy men. “Just frigging great.”

  Marissa hurried over to the table. The men were all laughing and talking loud, not one paid her any attention. She tried to wave her hands and get their attention, but still they ignored her. She recognized one of the men who was tucked up tight in the corner. She’d gone to school with him and his younger brother—Brad and Sean. Their last name was Dennison or Davidson or something, she couldn’t quiet remember.

  She didn’t want to stand there all night, and she could see the money peeking out from between one of the men’s feet.

  Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she wound her hair up into a makeshift bun, dropped down on all fours and crawled under the table. Her left hand landed on something squishy. A shudder ripped through her as she tried to wipe off the unknown mess onto a cleaner spot of floor. Gum and other suspicious substances lined the underneath of the table and she crouched as low as possible so the top of her head wouldn’t come in contact with anything there.

  Her little wad of bills sat between a pair of cowboy boots and an old ratty pair of cross trainers. She prayed that neither man decided to shift their position or cross their legs in the next few minutes. Marissa tried not think too much of how she looked half under the table and she reached for her money. As her fingers closed over the money another man joined the group, blocking her exit just as the music ended and the DJ announced the house band was due for a quick break.

  The group of men above shifted. A set of feet came within inches of kicking her.

  Marissa wanted to pound her head on the tabletop. “Can this get any worse?”

  “Seems like we have company.” A big booming voiced announced from behind her. The table quieted. The two men on the ends of the booth bench ducked their heads under.

  “Well, hello,” one of the men said. He looked vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place him. The other man was just plain scary, even though he seemed to be trying to smile. Finally he asked, “Can we help you?”

  “Just grabbing my driver’s license.” She waved the cash and ID. “If you’ll excuse me.” She tried to back up but the pair of legs didn’t budge. “Can you ask your friend to move?”

  The two men stared at her for a long moment. “She wants you to move,” one said, lifting his head slightly. Then he shook his head and lowered it back under the table. “I’m thinking we like the way things are just fine.” He gave a strange little purr and the men around the table broke their silence with a roar of laughter.

  Fear and frustration tightened her chest. “Listen, pal, I’m friends with the chief of police. If you don’t move…”

  He laughed, more of a loud, long guffaw. “She’s friends with the chief.” The other men laughed harder.

  Marissa huffed. “You don’t have to be rude.”

  The man’s blond eyebrows shot up toward his receding hairline. “We’re being rude?”

  Two large hands circled her waist and tugged her out from under the table.

  “Hey. Stop.” Marissa tried to grab onto the table leg, but the man pulled her too fast. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She was a little disoriented when the man abruptly set her on her feet. She landed with an exaggerated harrumph as her bun came loose and her hair fell around her shoulders. She turned to give the man a piece of her mind. “Who the hell do you think…” The words died on her lips as Jax smiled down at her.

  Jax—the other end of the hands who’d pulled her from the table—tilted his head to the side and simply stared at her.

  All the steam Marissa was building up evaporated and left her on a heavy sigh. “Well, this can’t get much more awkward.”

  A half-smile crooked up the corner of his mouth. “What were you doing?”

  “Trying to retrieve my stuff.” She held her money and ID aloft, then tucked it back into her bra.

  A shiver ran up her spine as Jax’s gaze followed her movement and lingered a moment or three longer than necessary. “I stand corrected,” she said. Awkward ratcheted up a hundred degrees. She scrunched up her nose.

  Jax had the courtesy to blush—or maybe it was the change in the lighting as the
house band approached the stage. She couldn’t tell for sure.

  “Who’s your friend?” The blond man from the end of the table asked. Several pairs of curious eyes stared at her, waiting for an introduction.

  Brad snapped his fingers. “It’s Lulu.”

  Jax watched as Marissa’s expression changed. She grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped something from her hand, then stuffed the napkin in Brad’s drink. Without a word, she straightened her shoulders, turned and melted into the growing crowd.

  Jax rolled his eyes at his friend. “Way to go, asshole.” He didn’t listen to whatever Brad was sputtering. Jax hurried after Marissa. He lost her at the women’s restroom when she ducked inside.

  A moment later, as a group of young women came out of the bathroom, they all gave him a sideways glance, then giggled as they hurried off to hear the house band’s next set. Jax rubbed his hand over his face.

  He waited another five minutes and when no one else came out he debated going in there after her, but was afraid of what people in town would say. That was one thing he was sure of, that if he walked into the women’s restroom, it would get around town—probably before he got home.

  He was about to head back to his table when Cherry Humphries came rushing toward the door. She skidded to a halt in front of Jax. “What did you do?”

  “What…I…me?” Jax couldn’t remember the last time he’d stammered talking to someone. “Nothing. Exactly.”

  Cherry’s eyebrows rose higher with his every word. “Judging by the frantic call I got, I wouldn’t say nothing.” She waved her finger in his face. “You’re lucky I answered my phone. She borrowed some woman’s cell phone in there.” She motioned to the door.

  That explained all the strange looks.

  He sighed. “Brad called her ‘Lulu.’”

  “Aw, man. You’d think after sixteen years people would forget.” Cherry started for the door but Jax gently grabbed her elbow.

  “I’d like to talk to her. To apologize. If you can get her to come out and speak with me.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “Please.”