Positively Criminal

by Mia Dymond

  She cleared her throat in an attempt to sound civil. “This is Dr. Miller.”

  “Bri! Oh my God! I’ve tried to reach you all night!”

  Bri swallowed hard at the panic in her friend’s voice. “I’m sorry, Dara, I was tied up.”

  “Tied up?”

  “Handcuffed, actually.”

  The sudden silence told her that Dara’s panic had subsided. Now the other woman was either angry or curious, and she voted for angry.

  “Um, Bri, I don’t mean to pry but you said you don’t work the private rooms.”

  “I don’t.” She released a heavy sigh, not surprised that curiosity won. “I spent most of the night in jail.”

  “What on Earth happened?”

  “There was a raid at the club.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t ask,” she grumbled.

  “I know you weren’t dealing drugs. Were you naked?”

  “No.”

  “Stoned?”

  “No.”

  “Drunk?”

  “No.”

  “This makes no sense. Who arrested you?”

  “Jake Rawlings.”

  A several second pause told Bri that her friend had solved the mystery.

  “Now it makes perfect sense. Wait, did he see you dance?”

  “No, I didn’t dance last night. In fact, the FBI was already cleaning out the place when he took me prisoner.”

  “And you secretly love it, huh?”

  Dara’s accusation made her giggle. Leave it to her psychologist-turned-romance-novelist friend to throw that thought right out there. “Are you using me to plot your next novel?”

  “Maybe. Would you rather I analyze your reaction?”

  “Please don’t.”

  “So, I’m sure Jake asked why he found you at the Velvet Glove.”

  “Asked?” She snorted. “Jake doesn’t ask anything.”

  “I agree, but your history with Jake convinces me he cares for you, Bri.”

  “Are you switching teams?”

  “No, I’m definitely Team Bri, but you have to admit, the man sports an awfully big weapon.”

  “Dara,” she groaned, “you’re way too wrapped up in your novels.”

  “Am I right?”

  “Huh?”

  “His weapon – it’s impressive?”

  “How would I know? I’ve never seen it.”

  But I’ve felt it slide across my bare thighs. She swallowed hard, knowing full well Dara wouldn’t back off. Not when she lived for this stuff.

  “Okay, but you’ve been up close and personal with it. Unless, of course, you fibbed about giving him a lap dance.”

  “Fine,” she admitted.

  “And?”

  “Geez, Dara! Yes, it’s amazing, okay?”

  “Amazing?”

  “Yeah, amazing.”

  “Tell me again why you two haven’t hooked up.”

  “Jake doesn’t think of me like that. He’s just concerned Mabel will castrate him if he doesn’t watch over me.”

  “You just keep hiding behind that excuse as long as you can.” Dara laughed. “It’s only a matter of time.”

  “I wish I lived in your sexy, erotic world.”

  “There’s plenty of space, Bri, just open your mind.”

  “Did you call just to interrupt my beauty sleep?”

  “Hey! I was worried. You said you’d call after your shift and you didn’t.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I was incarcerated.”

  “I’m assuming you didn’t need bail money.”

  “No. In fact, Jake took me back here.”

  “Here?”

  “To the office. I slept on the sleeper sofa in my office.”

  “Oh my God! Is he there?”

  “Again, you concentrate way too hard on those voices in your brain. I slept here. Alone. Without Detective Rawlings.”

  “Bummer.”

  Exactly. Bri quickly redirected the conversation. “Can we meet for dinner tonight?”

  “There’s more.”

  She could almost see Dara’s smirk and ignored the fact that Dara’s sentence did not end in a question mark. “Yes, much more.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Several hours later, Bri entered Andy’s Bar and Grill, both nervous and excited to fill in the blanks for Dara. Although her friend expected to hear more detail of what happened with Jake, Dara was in for a big surprise. Thank God Dara was so incredibly open-minded.

  Bri stopped at the hostess station and glanced around the room, scoping out the clientele for signs of anyone who might be overly interested in what she and Dara discussed. She sighed in relief; game night made the place short of female influence – the chances of being overheard were extremely slim.

  She smiled and gave her bracelet a spin then smoothed a hand down her short skirt. “Hey, Dr. Miller!”

  Bri moved her gaze onto the hostess now standing in front of her. “Hi Jenny, how are you?”

  “Fine, thanks.” She motioned to a booth in the far corner of the room. “C’mon, Dara’s already here.”

  Bri followed Jenny across the room then bent to embrace Dara in a tight hug before she sat on the opposite side of the booth. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

  “It’s good to be home. Book tours are fun but very exhausting.”

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “Well, if you had answered your phone last night, we could already be caught up.”

  Bri rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “I ordered your tea.” Dara nudged a glass toward her. “Now tell me more.”

  “Cut right to the chase, Dara,” Bri drawled.

  “I’ve been gnawing my nails since this morning. You better have something good to add to the story.”

  “You just might not believe what I have to tell you.”

  Dara’s brow wrinkled. “Are you in trouble?”

  Not yet. “No.” She glanced around the room while she lifted her glass to sip the cold beverage, taking note of the people seated at nearby tables. Several groups of males with both full and empty beer mugs positioned in front of them, all eyes glued to the baseball game broadcast on several big screen televisions. No worry of interference. “I’m contemplating doing something highly unordinary in the name of psychiatry.”

  “Really? Like an experiment with human subjects?”

  “Something like that.”

  Dara’s eyebrows lifted. “I was kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Have you discussed it with Liberty? She’s really good at things of this nature.”

  “No. She and Shane are in Barbados, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. Well, have you identified your guinea pig?”

  “Yes, but I’m not absolutely convinced I made the right decision.”

  “This sounds mysterious.” Dara frowned. “Are you sure it’s legal?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, I give. Tell me.”

  Bri took a deep breath and opened her mouth to spout her plan.

  “Wait!” Dara interrupted, “This involves Detective Rawlings, doesn’t it? Do tell.”

  For some unknown reason, Bri hesitated to confirm Dara’s suspicion. And then she felt the earth shift at the sound of the smooth, deep voice over her shoulder.

  “Yes, please elaborate.”

  Bri squeezed her eyes closed and stifled a groan. No way. Please tell me I’m hearing things.

  She pried open her eyes to see Dara’s rosy red cheeks. “He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?”

  Dara just nodded, her eyes trained on the person Bri assumed to be Jake.

  “Scoot.” Jake moved into her line of vision, nudged her with one hip and then folded himself next to her in the booth. He gave Dara a sly grin and extended his hand. “Jake Rawlings.” He nodded to the other man with him. “Detective Turner.”

  Dara didn’t hesitate to move over while she accepted Jake’s hand. “Dara Hamilton.”

 
She then extended a hand to Mace, who accepted it with a huge grin and sat beside her. “Mace.”

  Bri cursed the goosebumps that danced on her skin as Jake rested a hand on her thigh beneath the table and squeezed. Damn short skirt. “I’m flattered to be the focus of your dinner conversation.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Then you must know another Detective Rawlings.”

  She shrugged while she chastised herself for allowing his hand to remain pressed against her skin. His big, warm, smooth hand, the exact one causing her hormones to hum. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t know, Bri,” Mace chimed in, “I’m thinking you were discussing Jake.”

  “Oh good grief,” she groaned, “what do you two want?”

  “Food.” Jake grabbed a menu and opened it. “I’m glad to see you’re not working this evening.”

  “I study people, I’m always working.”

  He gave her a sideways grin. “You know what I meant.”

  “Bri’s very talented, Detective.” Dara’s eyes sparkled when Bri shot her a narrowed stare.

  “A fact that I happen to know firsthand,” he answered without moving his eyes from the menu.

  Bri’s first intention was to chase the two men from the booth and then spike Dara’s iced tea with salt. Instead, she let a grin split her lips. “Actually, Dara’s much more talented that I am.”

  A strangled squeak left Dara’s throat, a noise Bri intentionally ignored as she continued. “She writes sex for a living.”

  Mace’s eyes widened. “Sex?”

  “Not just sex,” Dara mumbled.

  “Then what, exactly?” Mace prompted.

  “Romance novels.” Bri gave herself a pat on the back for steering the conversation a whole new direction.

  Jake frowned. “Do you dance too?”

  “No.” Dara shook her head so hard Bri thought she probably scrambled her brain. “I actually have a psychology degree. I just don’t practice the discipline.”

  Mace nodded. “Probably comes in handy.”

  “I use psychology a lot in my novels.” Dara’s shoulders relaxed. “I write mystery and suspense. My villains don’t have a chance.”

  Bri swallowed a moan of pure satisfaction as Jake’s fingers massaged her tense thigh muscles into something close to putty. She fought the urge to slouch lower and force his fingers just a few itsy bitsy inches higher.

  “So were the two of you analyzing Dara’s next villain?”

  “No.” Bri covered his hand with hers to stop his assault on her nerve endings. “We were attempting to figure out why deep in your warped brain you found it necessary to arrest me.”

  “I told you I would.”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t doing anything illegal.”

  “Protocol,” Mace said as he perused the menu. “Anyone who happens to be present at the raid wins a pair of shiny, silver handcuffs.”

  “Oh, that’s good!” Dara giggled. “Can I use that?”

  “Dara!” Bri hissed.

  “Sorry.” Dara shrugged and raised an eyebrow at Mace. “I’m always looking for clever dialect.”

  Mace returned an equally interested gaze. “Clever, huh?”

  Conversation stilled as the waitress set two additional glasses of water on the table then palmed her order pad. Bri ordered her meal, thankful of the woman’s presence while the rest of them ordered. Maybe the Detectives’ interruption had been a blessing in disguise. She and Dara should probably have their conversation in a more private place anyway; it wasn’t a topic Jake needed to know anything about. In fact, if he caught wind of her plan the whole thing would be over before it even started.

  Jake lifted his hand from her leg and draped it across the back of the booth. “So now that we’ve established that Detective Turner will be starring in Dara’s next novel, tell me again why I found you at the Glove last night.”

  “Nice try.” Bri balled her fists to keep from placing his hand back against her skin. “You just don’t give up, do you?”

  “Never.”

  “Is he always this slow?” Dara asked Mace as she cocked her head to one side. “Bri works there at least three nights a week.”

  Mace didn’t answer; only his Adam’s apple bobbed in response.

  “No one asked me to explain my job description,” Bri answered for him.

  Jake lifted an eyebrow. “Isn’t that obvious?”

  Dara’s eyes widened. “You think she dances?”

  “That’s what I caught her doing the last time I found her there.”

  Bri pushed her guilt further away as she swallowed hard. Even Dara didn’t realize the reality behind her work.

  “She did, once upon a time,” Dara continued, “but not now.”

  Bri winced. Well, not every night anyway.

  Right on cue, the waitress returned and placed dinner on the table. Bri heaved a sigh of relief. She was safe – for the moment at least.

  She caught a hint of a smile as Mace crammed his burger in his mouth. Obviously, he enjoyed the banter between them – either that or the sound of Dara’s voice. Wonderful. Bri shook her head to clear her brain. Now she’d fallen victim to Dara’s romantic notions.

  Bri’s nerves began to tremble. Sooner or later Jake would demand an explanation and he wouldn’t care where he demanded it or who witnessed his interrogation – she had an idea it was about to be sooner.

  Then, just as she realized she couldn’t stall him any longer, a high-pitched beep saved her from surrender.

  “Damn.” Jake reached to his belt, tilted his pager to read the screen, and then tossed his napkin to the table as he stood. “Ladies, thanks for the company. We’ll continue this conversation another time.”

  Mace threw his napkin next to his plate and then winked at Dara before he followed Jake’s lead. “Until next time.”

  Bri gave Jake a three-fingered wave while her nerves danced a happy dance. “Toodles.”

  A sly grin split his lips as he leaned down and lowered his head. “Keep those secrets buried for now.” He lifted her chin with one finger and smoothed his thumb across her skin. “Just remember, I’m an expert treasure hunter.”

  Dara inhaled a sharp breath and then coughed.

  Although Bri knew she should keep her mouth shut and let him strut like a cocky rooster, she just couldn’t do it. Pure, deep-rooted lust pushed her to put him in his place.

  “My treasure is a secret, Detective.”

  His grin slipped as the pager at his hip chirped again and he released her chin to quiet the interruption.

  “Be careful driving home.”

  Bri held her breath for a full seven seconds until the detectives sauntered across the room, paused briefly at the hostess station, then exited the building. She released the air on a huff then moved her gaze to her friend, now digging through her purse.

  “What are you doing? Dinner’s my treat.”

  “I’ve got to write this down.” Dara pushed her purse to the side and opened a small notebook. “You guys are the poster couple for bestseller romantic tension.”

  “I still think you’re delusional.” Bri signaled for the waitress while she reached into her own purse.

  Once the woman stood beside the table, she smirked while she gestured with her head at Bri’s wallet. “Tall, dark and bossy paid your ticket.”

  “See?” Bri gave Dara an I-told-you glare. “He’s pure, cocky, alpha male.”

  “Yeah.” Dara nodded. “Just your type.”

  Bri ignored Dara’s accusation and glanced back at the waitress. “Did he tip you?”

  “Generously.”

  “Well.” Bri paused, too unraveled to think. Tall, dark and bossy always had the last word. “Good. Thank you.”

  The woman gave her a look just short of you-must-be-crazy, and then left to help a nearby table.

  Dara giggled. “This is gonna be fun.”

  “What?”

  “Watching the two of you try to outdo each other.”

  �
�I hate to spoil it for you.” Dara spun the locket on her bracelet to see the clock’s face. “Our paths have no reason to cross. I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a session at nine o’clock.”

  “At the club?”

  Bri nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell Jake what you really do there?”

  Bri slapped her guilt unconscious. “Let him think what he wants. I’m bound by law to protect my information.” She slid from the booth while Dara followed and they headed out the door.

  “Well, at least call me from the slammer this time.”

  Bri released a genuine laugh. “Okay, promise.”

  ***

  Twenty paces from his cruiser, Jake frowned as his pager screamed yet again against his hip. “Hang the hell on,” he mumbled while he and Mace piled into the car.

  “Somebody’s impatient.” Mace unclipped his own pager from his belt, now squealing right along with Jake’s.

  “What’s your number?” Jake grabbed his cell phone from his pocket.

  Mace rattled off the same series of numbers Jake now punched into his phone.

  “Rawlings.”

  “Majors here. I’ve called a briefing. Ten minutes, Riverside Pub.”

  “We’re there.”

  Jake disconnected and turned the key to bring the engine to life. “Majors has decided to share.”

  “Finally.” Mace flipped several switches on the radio, checked in with dispatch, and then clipped the microphone back into place. “I think Dara knows something.”

  “Really? Or are you looking for an excuse to interrogate the lovely Dara Hamilton, best selling romance novelist?”

  “Screw you.” Mace grinned. “I think Dara knows a lot more about Bri’s presence at the Velvet Glove.”

  “Intel reveals they were college roommates.”

  “So Dara probably possesses an arsenal of information.”

  “Suit yourself, Turner. As long as you come up with something useful, knock yourself out.”

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Riverside Pub.”