by Nina Bruhns
He stood and walked over to the refrigerator against the wall and yanked out a couple of bottles of water. He put one apiece in front of her and Eric and then resumed his seat. He caught her gaze and held it.
“On a personal not legal note: you chose to come into a strange city and set up a protective services practice without contacting the police. Doing so is not a requirement for a license. But knowing that you will be armed in most of your activities, it would appear to me that introducing yourself to the police force would have served you well. While this is not felonious behavior, it speaks to your judgment--or in my view, lack of it. I have three choices, Jesse, all of which I have discussed with your attorney. The first is that I can bring charges against you for any or all of the above felonies. I think the prosecution would have a field day. Or, I can recommend to the licensing board that they revoke your license.”
Jesse gasped and clung to the arms of the chair. She couldn’t have answered him if she’d tried. The lump in her throat prevented her from swallowing much less talking.
“Eric indicated to me that you had difficult personal reasons for leaving the Army and that you are dealing with some tough family challenges. He asked that I consider these issues to explain what I see as a serious lapse of judgment. Because of his recommendation and your stellar background and Army career, I’m proposing a third option. The licensing board can issue you a provisional license. After you’ve had time to prove that what happened the other night was an aberration, we can review it and determine that--”
Jesse conjured up enough spit in her mouth to interrupt. “Who would decide?”
Dameon shrugged. “Essentially I would. Just as I can press charges and request that your license be revoked, I can also see that the probationary period ends. If you wish to contest my decision, that’s your right.” He sat up straight in his chair preparing to stand. “I will leave the room so that you can discuss my proposal with your attorney.”
Jesse shook her head. Her voice was cool. “That won’t be necessary. I accept your proposal. Is there anything else before I leave?”
She saw Eric and Dameon exchange a surprised glance.
Dameon pressed his lips together.
“Actually there is. I want to talk to you about your choice of clients.”
If Dameon saw Eric’s raised eyebrow he ignored it.
“Do you think for a moment that Raoul Morales doesn’t know who those shooters are or who is gunning for him, Jesse?”
When she didn’t answer, he continued.
“You need to think hard about working with Raoul. He lives in a dangerous world among violent, vicious men. If you are perceived by the cartel to be involved with Morales, you could be personally in danger. It’s a rough crowd, Jesse, and even though Raoul professes not to be a part of it any longer, his former cohorts may not agree.”
Jesse met his gaze. “Is that an official warning, Chief, or merely a man meddling in a relationship he doesn’t like the look of?”
To her surprise, Dameon’s expression softened. He flashed her a sheepish grin.
“A little of both.”
For a split second, Jesse almost gave into his charm, but she refused to relinquish her anger.
She rose to her feet and blasted Eric with a scathing glare.
“Just to be clear, Eric. I don’t appreciate you plotting with your friend behind my back. If I fire you, or if I decide to continue to employ you, do know that anything that I have previously conveyed to you is privileged communication. You disclose it to anyone and you’ll need to start buying smaller sized pants.”
She strode to the door ignoring his surprised chortle. She put her hand on the doorknob then leaned back against the door and glared at Dameon.
“Thank you for the shoes. The red Jimmy Choo sandals are the most beautiful shoes I’ve ever seen. I’ve lusted after them for months but never dreamed that I could have them. But--”
Dameon interrupted, “Why did I know that there was going to be a ‘but,’ Major?”
She ignored him.
“But I knew I couldn’t accept them.” She held up her hand to stop him. “But this morning I changed my mind. I decided that if I had to develop an installment plan to pay you for them I would.”
Dameon murmured, “That’s not necessary, Jesse.”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “BUT that was this morning. Now after this outrage, another example of your presumptuous overbearing behavior and a further despicable chapter in our short history, I’ve decided that I’m not giving them back. And I am not paying you for them. Instead I’m going to look for a green pair that hopefully will be more expensive than the red ones. I might even check out Manolo Blahnik. When I find exactly what I want, I’ll send you the bill.”
Seeing his surprised grin that mirrored Eric’s she encompassed both men in her fierce glare. “And by the way? I despise you both!”
She slammed the door behind her.
A war of emotions shook Dameon. He summed them up with a muttered curse.
“Fuck. That is some woman.”
Eric agreed through his laughter.
“She sure as hell is. But I already told you that. Damn, bro, are you sure you’re up to her? Hell, man, and I thought this was a professional issue. A little minor question of whether she could keep her license or go to jail. Now that I see what’s going on behind the scenes, methinks your good buddy Eric may be more clear-eyed than you are.”
Dameon grimaced. “In what way? Do you think I don’t know what I’m up against?”
Eric swiped at the tears of laughter streaming down his face. “Hell, man. What can I say? Jimmy Choo’s? That’s one thing. But have you checked out the price of Manolo Blahnik’s? Gotta tell you, man, if she hits you up for the alligator boots, I’d draw the line.”
Red Rock Rises: Chapter Ten
Dameon didn’t hear from Jesse for a week. He’d decided that he would keep his distance and allow her to deal with the last harrowing days. As much as he hated to admit it, he also needed a break. She was without a doubt the most attractive woman he’d ever met. And it wasn’t just her looks. Under all that bravado and fiery temper was a vulnerable woman, a side that pulled at him, made him want to protect her. Take care of her. And hell, he admitted, claim her. All in all it was a situation riddled with landmines.
At first, he was surprised at her quick acceptance of his proposal. The more he thought about it, he should have known that she would consent to the consequences he imposed. She was a true professional--Army led and bred. She knew what she did on Monday was wrong and was probably damn relieved that all she got was probation.
She seemed angrier about Eric’s role. In addition to feeling conspired against by the two of them, she must have thought that Eric had revealed some of her secrets. And from what Dameon could tell, this woman was wracked by secrets.
He prepared to light some kindling in the fireplace and settle in for a night of paperwork. If the last four or five nights were predictive, he’d likely spend most of his time thinking about a spectacular redhead with a temper as compelling as her body.
When his phone buzzed, the caller ID noted an unknown caller. He clicked on the phone.
“Macarios.”
“Dameon? This is Jesse, I--”
Dameon’s breath caught in his chest.
“What’s wrong, Jesse?”
Her voice was soft, muffled.
“I need help. It’s Trey. He’s been arrested.”
Dameon was instantly on his feet and heading out the front door for the driveway, preparing to leap into his truck.
“Where are you?”
“At the police station, the central precinct. They… won’t let me in. They won’t let me see him. I’ve been here more than an hour and I…. Please, I need help.”
Dameon’s gut clenched. Jesse’s voice was thick with fear.
“Okay, Jesse, I’m on my way. Where are you? In the waiting room? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, ma
x. Hang in there, you hear me? It’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.”
* * *
Jesse sucked in the first full breath that she’d taken since she received Trey’s frantic call. He’d been crying so hard she could barely understand what he was saying. Before he could tell her what happened, an official voice broke in. The officer gave her the address of the precinct where they were holding her son and hung up.
After Jesse approached the desk four times begging the clerk for information, the hostile woman practically shouted at Jesse. She slapped the glossy magazine with the latest Brad/Angelina scandal emblazoned on the front on top of her desk.
“I’ve told you repeatedly that I will call you when I receive information from the jail. In the meantime, take a seat.” She waved a dismissive hand at the crowd of bleary-eyed "patrons" in the waiting room. “As you can see, you aren’t the only person here.”
That was when Jesse knew she had to have help. She was close to panicking. Hearing Dameon’s calm voice telling her that he was on his way she kicked herself for waiting so long to call him. She’d just hung up and was brushing away her relieved tears when she heard a familiar voice.
“I’m Dr. Garrett Chambers. You are holding my son. I demand to see him NOW.”
From across the room Jesse saw her former husband. The sultry young woman with him was twenty years old, if that.
The nervous clerk jumped to attention. “Yes sir, of course, sir. Let me check and see where he is.”
Garrett scowled at her. “I just told you where he is. He’s at the jail. This is an outrage. I demand to see him immediately.”
The clerk paled. “Yes, Sir. I’m calling the jail now. I….”
To her relief, Jesse saw Dameon coming around the corner. He was wearing a black t-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. Even in this casual attire, he was impressive. Jesse now knew him well enough to see his face tighten and knew that he had overheard Garrett’s exchange with the woman at the desk.
“Excuse me. I’m Dameon Macarios, the police chief.”
The clerk who’d refused to speak with Jesse was effusive with relief.
“Chief Macarios, this is Dr. Chambers. His son, Trey, has been… arrested. I’m getting ready to show him to the conference room. I’ve called the jail to get information--”
Dameon held up his hand, stopping the clerk in mid-sentence.
“I see.”
He walked toward Jesse and motioned for her to approach. Bringing her up next to him, he said, “You are his mother?”
Jesse nodded.
Dameon turned to the young woman next to Chambers. “And you are?”
The young woman who looked as though she might tumble over in her high heels was dressed in a short red dress graced by a white Ermine wrap. She blinked long eyelashes at Dameon and breathed, “I’m Sapphire Somers. I’m Doctor Chambers’ fiancé.”
“I see.” Without speaking to Chambers, Dameon motioned to a uniformed officer standing to the side watching the exchange.
“Officer, please take Dr. Chambers and Ms. Somers to the parent’s conference room.”
The ruddy faced young officer snapped to attention. “Yes, Sir.”
Dameon waited until the threesome turned the corner then moved toward Jesse. She was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt and wearing sneakers. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. Just as before in her kitchen, she looked like a kid--a thirteen-year–old, scared, vulnerable kid. Dameon wrapped a big hand around Jesse’s arm and pulled her up next to him. He said in a low voice for her ears only, “Are you okay?”
When she nodded to him, he turned his anger on the clerk.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
The middle-aged fleshy woman squinted at him surprised and stammered. “I… don’t understand, sir.”
Dameon asked Jesse, “How long have you been waiting here?”
“Over an hour, almost an hour and a half.”
He glanced at the clerk’s nametag. “Did you tell Mrs. Peterson that you are
Trey’s mother?”
Jesse nodded. “Yes, four times.”
“Can you explain why when Dr. Chambers arrived you immediately agreed to take him to a conference room and get information about his son but you kept his mother waiting for over an hour?”
The flustered woman glanced from Jesse back to Dameon. “I’m… sorry. I assumed because he was a doctor that he was busy and wouldn’t want to be in the waiting room with all the other people….”
“I see. But you assumed his mother would?”
“I’m sorry--”
Dameon cut her short. His voice was crisp.
“Do you have children?”
Jesse tugged on his arm. “Dameon, it’s okay.”
“No, Jesse, it isn’t okay. That is not the kind of department I run.” Turning back to the clerk who looked angry as well as embarrassed, he repeated, “I asked you if you have children.”
Mrs. Peterson glowered at Jesse making it clear that she blamed her for the trouble she was in. Seeing Dameon’s determination, she mumbled, “Yes.”
“If your son was arrested and the woman at the desk refused to give you any information about him for over an hour and your husband came in and he was immediately taken to a conference room, would that upset you?”
When the woman refused to answer him or meet his eyes, Dameon said, “Your behavior was inexcusable. You can pack up. You’re done for the day.”
Mrs. Peterson looked up, startled. “But… I just got here. My shift isn’t over until--”
“You’re done. Who is your supervisor?”
Fear riddling her face and voice, Mrs. Peterson whispered, “Moses Shapiro.”
“I’ll discuss your actions with Mr. Shapiro. He’ll let you know on Monday if you can come back.”
“But Sir--.”
Dameon was curt. “Don’t call us. We’ll call you. And by the way, since you seem to be impressed by titles, this woman is a decorated retired Major in the U.S. Army and happens to be associated with this department. But the only title that you needed to hear is that she is Trey’s mother. Do you understand?”
Ignoring the woman’s angry glance first at Jesse and then at himself, Dameon looked instead at the crowded waiting room. He stepped to the front. Even dressed in casual clothes, the only sign that he was a policeman being the shield clipped on his jean’s pocket, he commanded the crowded room.
“Excuse me, everyone. Are there other people here who have been waiting more than thirty minutes for information about a family member?”
Dozens of hands shot up as a surprised murmur ricocheted around the room.
Dameon pointed to the front desk.
“Please form an orderly line. My name is Police Chief Macarios. Please accept my apologies for your inconvenience.”
Turning to the surprised man standing in the doorway, Dameon ordered, “Officer Sorenson, get as many clerks as you need to break through this back log. I want it cleared within the hour. Do you understand?”
The befuddled officer nodded yes and jerked out his walkie talkie.
“And Officer Sorenson, please leave a message that I want to address the front desk staff the first thing in the morning. I will describe what constitutes a professional customer-centric organization that from now on will be SOP in this department.”
When Officer Sorenson looked askance at the waiting room filled with what he clearly considered the dregs of society, Dameon glared at him.
“Yes, Officer. These customers. The citizens who pay our salaries.”
Red Rock Rises: Chapter Eleven
Guiding Jesse by her elbow, Dameon led her down a dismal hallway and stopped at the door marked conference room. Jesse stumbled after him trying to reconcile the scene she’d just seen with her frustrating experience with the hostile clerk. She glanced at Dameon. His bearing was stiff; the lines around his eyes and mouth were taut. Jesse thought again how fortunate she was that he’d merely put her on probati
on. He obviously ran a tight ship and didn’t suffer fools gladly. She saw Army commander written all over him. Like her father--and like herself--a simple frown from this commander got results. No one wanted to be on his bad side.
“Do you have any objection to being in the same room with that asshole? We usually put the parents together.”
His caustic remark startled her bringing her back to the present. Knowing that she had to deal with Garrett and how ugly the scene was likely to be, Jesse shrugged. She may as well face it. She knew Garrett would blame her for what had happened. She only wished that Dameon wouldn’t see the ugliness. She felt guilty enough as it was.
She managed to whisper, “It’s okay.”
Dameon frowned at her, obviously concerned. “Look, Jesse, we can separate you two….”
“No, please. I’m fine. It’s just that he’s a challenging man.”
Dameon barked a harsh laugh. “So am I.” He tipped up her chin and winked at her. “And so are you, tiger. Or is it only with me that you bare your claws?”
Jesse gave a startled laugh, the first non-panicked emotion she’d had since she’d received Trey’s call. She blinked back grateful tears.
“Thanks, Dameon. And thank you for coming.”
“After I deposit you in this snake pit I’m going to find out what happened. Were you able to talk to Trey?”
“Just for a half a minute. He was crying. I could barely understand him.” Remembering Trey’s frantic sobs, Jesse’s fear spiraled.
Dameon nodded and tightened his grip on her arm. He walked her into the conference room. Glancing at Garrett and his companion, he addressed Garrett.
“As I indicated, I am Chief Macarios. I’m going to the jail to see your son and talk with the arresting officers. I’ll be back shortly. While you wait, can I have my staff bring you anything? Water? Coffee?”
Garrett gave Macarios a dismissive glance and pointed at Jesse.
“What’s she doing here?”
“Pardon me?”
Apparently missing the simmering danger in Dameon’s response, Garrett glared at Jesse.