“Have I got time for a shower?” He looked self-consciously down at his rumpled appearance. He was lucky she hadn’t run screaming in the other direction. He rubbed his jaw and decided he’d have to be extra fast in the shower because he needed to shave too.
“If you hurry,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “The biscuits aren’t good when they’re cold.”
“Biscuits?” He almost whimpered. “Like homemade biscuits or biscuits out of a can?”
“My grandmother would roll over in her grave at the idea of biscuits out of a can,” Jessie said with a laugh. “Now go or you’ll have to eat them cold.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” he said as he turned and all but fled to the bathroom.
By the time he emerged exactly eight minutes later with only one razor cut to show for his hastiness, Rick was already seated at the breakfast table while Jessie put out plates. She smiled again when she saw Truitt and he felt that funny tightening in his chest all over again.
“Have a seat. I’m dishing up the omelets now. The biscuits are ready to come out of the oven and the gravy’s done.”
“Ah hell. Gravy,” Truitt breathed.
Rick chuckled. “It’s been so long since we had anything resembling real home cooking. We might fall all over ourselves kissing your feet.”
Jessie arched an eyebrow and her lips twitched. “I might like that.”
She motioned for Truitt to sit and then she hurried around the counter. She was back in just a second with the omelets and then she went back. Two more trips and biscuits so light and fluffy were set on the table, along with a bowl of steaming brown gravy.
The smell was divine.
Truitt dug into his food and when it hit his tongue he about orgasmed all over again.
“Good?” Jessie asked.
Rick had his mouth full and eyes closed in delight.
“You’re a dream,” Truitt said when his mouth was free of food. “You’re gorgeous, sweet, and you cook? Do you have any faults?”
She blushed that pretty pink again, but pleasure shone in her eyes.
For the next half hour, he and Rick ate like they hadn’t been fed in a week. His stomach was probably going to scream What the Fuck? since he wasn’t currently poisoning it with shit out of a can.
When his plate was clean and he’d downed the last biscuit, Truitt leaned back in his seat and sighed. Jessie got up to clear the table, but Rick wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her back down to sit.
“You don’t need to be up on that knee after hurting it last night. Why don’t you just stay here. Truitt and I will take care of the dishes later.”
“Okay. I should probably be going now anyway. I have to work tonight. We’re going to be shorthanded.”
Truitt sat forward just as Rick stroked his fingers over Jessie’s wrist. Rick was just about to open his mouth when his cell phone rang.
Rick swore and Truitt groaned. “Not now. Anytime but now.”
Jessie shot them a puzzled look.
“Chief has his own ringtone,” Rick said dryly. “Sorry darlin’, I have to take this.”
He pulled out his cell phone and issued a short greeting. Truitt watched keenly as Rick frowned, then glanced quickly in Jessie’s direction before focusing his gaze on Truitt.
Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good if Chief was calling on their day off. He hoped to hell their serial killer hadn’t struck again.
“We’ll be there,” Rick said grimly.
He hung up and cast an uneasy look in Truitt’s direction again. Then he tugged Jessie’s hand into his and rubbed his fingers over her knuckles.
“Truitt and I have to go and I don’t know how long we’ll be. But I want you to stay here. Get some rest. Do whatever you need to do. I’ll call you. Give me your cell number.”
Jessie frowned but recited her number as Rick put it into his phone. Then Rick rose and gestured for Truitt.
“Let’s go. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
Chapter 6
Rick stood over the body of Merriam Powell and blew out his breath. This was going to be sticky in more ways than one. He glanced at Truitt, who had the same look of resignation. But at least Jessie wouldn’t be going to work tonight.
To the side, Rick heard one of the other detectives who’d been called to the scene mention Jessie’s name. He quickly tuned in and then walked over to interrupt the conversation.
“What about Jessie Callahan?” Rick asked.
Trevor “Bull” Phillips narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated by the interruption. “You know her?”
“Yeah, I know her. Truitt and I both come in here a lot. Jessie’s a waitress. She worked here last night.”
“Well your waitress is our prime suspect in the case. From what’s been gathered so far, I’d say this is going to be a slam dunk.”
“What the fuck?” Truitt demanded as he shoved in.
“She’s not at her apartment. I’ve already sent Jones to bring her in. You happen to know where to find her?” Bull asked.
Rick exchanged looks with Truitt. This was a clusterfuck. No way they could pull this case now. Not if Jessie was mixed up in it. But at least they could clear her.
“Where’s the chief ?” Rick asked. “He’s going to need to hear this.”
“On his way. Merriam Powell was an old friend of his. He’s pretty hot to trot to nail her killer to the wall.”
On cue Chief Markham strode into the office just as Jud Hennessee was pulling a sheet over Merriam’s head. Chief stopped Hennessee and carefully pulled the sheet back just enough to see Merriam’s blood-spattered face.
“Jesus,” the chief muttered. Then he got up and walked over to where Rick and Truitt stood with Bull.
“You got leads?” the chief demanded.
Bull nodded.
“I want the son of a bitch who did this,” the chief snarled.
“Look, Chief, we need to tell you something. It involves the primary suspect in this case. I don’t have all the facts. Bull was just about to fill me in. But Jessie Callahan couldn’t have murdered Merriam Powell because she was ... she was home with me all night,” Rick finished tightly. “She was with Truitt and I. We just left her a few minutes ago.”
The chief snapped his gaze to Bull. “And this is your prime suspect?”
Bull stared hard at Rick and Truitt, in a way that pissed Rick off. Like he didn’t believe Rick or maybe he thought he’d even lie to protect Jessie.
“We have witnesses that place her here at the bar around five A.M., which is the estimated time of death,” Bull said.
“Bullshit,” Truitt said. “She was in bed with me.”
The chief raised one eyebrow. “I thought she was in bed with Rick. Make up your mind here.”
“She was in bed with both of us, okay?” Rick bit out. “It isn’t important who she was having sex with. What’s important is that she has an alibi.”
Bull crossed his arms over his chest. “What time did you leave the bar with her last night?”
“Are we being questioned?” Truitt challenged.
The chief held up his hands. “Outside, all of you.”
The four men walked outside the bar and over to the chief ’s car. The chief leaned against his car and stared at Rick and Truitt and then at Bull.
“Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible. Answer Bull’s question. If she was with you then this will be resolved shortly but if you two are involved, we need to make this clean and by the book.”
“We left around eleven,” Rick said.
“And is that her usual time to get off ?” Bull asked.
Truitt shook his head. “No, she usually closes. She hurt her knee though and said she could leave.”
“Well here’s what I know,” Bull said quietly. “She was fired from her job last night. I have two witnesses plus an entry in Merriam’s business journal stating that Jessie was suspected of stealing money and Merriam let her go. That was at approximately 10
:45. Witnesses also heard Jessie threaten her. Now you say she left with you at eleven. Did she say anything about losing her job?”
A sick ball formed in Rick’s stomach. He glanced at Truitt who looked a little shell-shocked himself.
“No,” Truitt muttered. “She said she had to be in tonight because they were going to be shorthanded. She told us that just a little while ago.”
“Okay now. How sure are you of her whereabouts at five this morning?” Bull continued.
Rick swallowed. “I didn’t wake up until close to seven. She was in the kitchen cooking.”
Truitt nodded. “Yeah, I was up just a few minutes earlier. We were asleep by three.”
“What exactly is your relationship with Miss Callahan?” the chief interjected. “How long have you known her?”
Rick didn’t like the direction this was heading and that ball was getting bigger in his gut.
“A few weeks. We’d come in, have a few drinks. Flirt. Proposition her.”
“And did she ever take you up on your offer?” Bull asked.
Truitt shook his head. “Not until last night.”
“Did she know you were cops?” the chief interjected.
Rick nodded. “Yeah. She knew. It wasn’t a secret.”
Bull and the chief fell silent a long moment. Truitt looked a little green. Then he muttered, “No way. I don’t care how it looks. She didn’t do this. She’s so damn ... sweet.”
Rick dragged a hand through his hair and looked away. He was feeling like a fool and he didn’t like that feeling at all. Had they been taken in by a pair of big brown eyes?
“Did it occur to you that she seized an opportunity to give herself an alibi?” the chief asked quietly. “She gets fired, gets pissed at her boss, sees a way to get revenge, and have an airtight alibi? I mean who’s going to doubt the word of two detectives when they say she was home all night with them in their bed?”
Truitt rubbed his hand over his belly, a tight grimace working its way across his face. He was steadily shaking his head in denial.
As much as it grieved Rick to say it, he knew it had to be done.
“How much do we really know about her, Tru?” Then he turned to Bull. “How credible are your witnesses?”
“Two employees reported overhearing the argument between Miss Callahan and Miss Powell last night. This morning her car was spotted parked outside the bar by an off-duty security guard and a jogger who runs a path by the bar every morning.”
“Shit,” Rick swore.
Truitt was absolutely and completely silent. His brows had drawn together in a dark cloud and his jaw was tight.
“Okay, well you two are off the case. Bull will take lead. I want you to stay away from Jessie Callahan in the meantime. You two will have to be formally questioned at the station if she claims you as her alibi and denies being present at the bar this morning.”
Bull’s phone rang and he held up a finger as he turned away to answer it. Rick didn’t pay attention to what was being said. His mind was numb with disbelief. He felt like a complete idiot.
The coincidence of her deciding to come home with him and Truitt on the same night she’d been fired and made threats against her boss was too staggering to ignore.
Bull ended his call and turned back around, a grim expression on his face. “You said you left Jessie at your place when you were called out?”
“Yeah,” Rick said.
“Jones just picked her up outside her apartment. He’s bringing her in now.”
Jessie sat in the interview room of the police station, her stomach tight and her nerves shot. No one had told her crap about why she was here, only that she was being questioned. For what? And why?
She supposed she shouldn’t have agreed to come. They weren’t arresting her so she had a right to refuse, right? The truth was, she’d been so intimidated by the hulking police officer who’d not so politely “asked” her to come into the station with him, that she’d mechanically gotten into his car—into the backseat of his car like some damn prisoner.
She was mortified by the idea of anyone seeing her, and by the stares that had been cast her way when the officer had escorted her into the station.
He’d seated her inside a small room that had only a table and chairs. It was cold and sterile and it heightened her unease.
Could something have happened to Truitt and Rick? But surely no one would know to say anything to her. Unless maybe they’d mentioned her in some way?
She shook her head. It did no good to speculate. All she had to do was wait and then she’d be able to go home.
She sat for what seemed like forever. It was silent and empty. She could walk out, surely. They couldn’t hold her here. The door was wide open. Was it a test?
She shook her head for a second time. She was losing her mind and she was paranoid.
Finally two men entered the room. One was an older man with graying hair, dark bushy eyebrows, and wrinkles around his piercing eyes. He carried himself with authority, but it wasn’t him who took a seat in front of her. He stood off to the side, arms crossed as he stared her down.
Discomfited by his regard, she turned her attention to the man in front of her. Then she swallowed because he looked like he could squash her like a bug.
“Miss Callahan. I’m Detective Phillips. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay,” she breathed out. “What about? Is something wrong? Did something happen to Truitt and Rick?”
Detective Phillips’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll ask the questions here. Earlier this morning, Merriam Powell was found murdered in her office at Powell’s Pub.”
Jessie’s mouth dropped open. She slapped her palms on the table and shot to her feet. “That’s not possible! She was alive. I saw her. I talked to her. And I locked up after I left.”
The detective’s eye flickered and he glanced over at the older man who still stood to the side.
“So you admit to being at the pub this morning.”
Jessie frowned and eased back down into her chair. “Of course I do. I went to see her about my job. We talked maybe ten minutes and then I left.”
“And what time was this?”
She put a hand to her head and rubbed. “Five I think? It was close to five. I woke early and knew she’d leave by six and I needed to catch her.”
“Were you angry? Did you argue?”
“No. Not at all. I fully intended to argue my case. You see, the night before she accused me of stealing money from the register but it was complete crap because I never touch the register. She fired me and at first I was going to let it go, but I can’t afford to lose any days. So I went to her office to tell her that it was bullshit and that I needed my job. But when I got there she told me she knew I hadn’t taken the money and that she knew by closing time the night before but she was peeved because I left early, even though she fired me!”
She broke off long enough to take a breath.
“Continue,” the detective prompted.
“So she said that we were going to be shorthanded. I assume she fired whoever it was she decided was stealing from her. I don’t know, but she said if I wanted my job back, I had to go in tonight to work.”
“I see.”
Again he glanced to the older man and Jessie looked rapidly between them both as realization dawned. Okay so she was slow but it was suddenly crystal clear why she’d been brought in for “questioning.”
“You think I did it,” she whispered.
The detective leaned forward. “Well, let me tell you how it’s been explained to us by eyewitnesses. Ms. Powell calls you into her office. Fires you for stealing money. You get into an argument. You threaten her. A few minutes later, you leave with two police officers. Go home with them. Have a little fun. Then you sneak out when they’re asleep, go back to the pub, get into another argument with Ms. Powell and when she won’t give you back your job, you kill her. Then you go back to Truitt Cavanaugh’s house, slip in while they’re sti
ll sleeping, cook some breakfast, pretend nothing’s wrong, tell them you have to be in to work and then you bolt as soon as they leave. Am I getting it right so far?”
The blood drained from Jessie’s face. She was so numb and freaked out that she honest to God couldn’t even open her mouth. Was this what they thought? Was it what Truitt and Rick thought? They had to have already told this detective everything or else how would he know?
“Are you suggesting I used them so I could murder someone?” she croaked out.
The idea sounded so outlandish that all she could do was sit there and stare dumbly as the detective coldly judged her.
“What I think is that it’s pretty damn convenient that you suddenly take Rick and Truitt up on their proposition when you put them off for weeks. And on a night when you were fired from your job and threatened your former employer. She turns up dead the very next morning and you were present at the crime scene. In fact, it would appear that you were the last person to see her alive. Now you tell me. How does that look?”
She bolted to her feet again. “I don’t give a damn how it looks. I didn’t do it. She gave me back my job! She obviously fired someone else. Why don’t you question the other employees?”
“Oh, we’ll question them. We’ve already questioned several. It’s not looking good for you, Miss Callahan. Why don’t you make things easier for all of us and tell us what really happened. Maybe you did go to try and talk her around. Maybe you got upset when she refused. The DA might consider the lesser charge of manslaughter if you tell us exactly what happened.”
Tears of rage swam in her eyes and it pissed her off that these jackasses would see her cry. Her fingers curled into tight balls and it was all she could do not to punch the condescending jerk right in the face.
“I didn’t do anything,” she bit out. “And unless you’re arresting me, I’m out of here. Don’t come near me again without a warrant.”
“You’ll make this a lot easier on yourself if you cooperate now.”
For the first time the older man spoke and Jessie turned her ire on him.
“Fuck off. I’m out of here.”
Men Out of Uniform: Three Novellas of Erotic Surrender Page 5