by Juanita Kees
Wheels scrunched and an engine heaved as a car made its way up her freshly compacted gravel drive. Sarge sat to attention with a single bark. TJ rubbed his neck and placed her bottle on the table next to her chair. She stood and stretched.
The house was so quiet she couldn’t sleep at night. How things had changed. A soft smile caressed her lips as the music from the shed pumped up a bit and the boys belted out an AC/DC favourite. The amplifier squealed in agony. TJ saw Mark wince as he stepped out of his unmarked car.
“I’m surprised the local police station hasn’t been inundated with noise pollution complaints,” he commented half-jokingly as he made his way up the stairs.
“It’s Saturday, they’re not open. The neighbours have agreed to two hours practice per day during daylight hours until the sound proofing goes in. The vote’s still out as to what happens after that.”
“Hopefully by that time they’ll have learnt how to adjust the amp.”
She laughed. “What brings you up here?”
“Good news and bad news.”
“I can handle the good news but the bad news? I’m not so sure. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, I have to get back into town. I have a desk piled high with paperwork and a case that has more red herrings than answers.”
“No worries. So give me the bad news first.”
He ran a hand through his short, blond hair and removed his sunglasses to perch them on top of his head in the newly created spikes. What a shame he wasn’t her kind of guy, she thought. He was damn good looking. One day he’d make some girl very lucky. Just not this girl. Sky blue eyes met hers with a serious look.
“We’re no closer to finding who is responsible for Tiny’s death. I can tell you that the fire was no accident. My guess is you knew that already. The notebook and the list you found have been valuable clues, but not enough to point the finger squarely at anyone.”
“Where does that leave Scott?”
“That’s the good news.” He turned towards the car as the passenger door opened. “He’s free to go.”
TJ’s heart flip-flopped as Scott got out and walked slowly towards them. He looked tired, worn out. The stubble was gone, his clothes fresh and his dark hair glistened in the sunlight. The Scott who loped towards her now was a shadow of the one who’d left. Gone was the cockiness, the self-assuredness in his step. Instead, fingers hooked into the top of his jeans pockets, he seemed unsure of his welcome. For a moment he hesitated, his attention turned to where the excavator dropped a load into the trailer with a thunk. Brick against metal, a resounding reminder of what had taken place weeks before. He didn’t look as if he needed or wanted reminding.
What if this was the end? What if he didn’t want to be here anymore? Would he head back to the East Coast to start again? A pang of regret gripped her heart. Was it over before it began? Her heart fluttered back to life as he focused his gaze on her, held her eyes with his until he reached the steps. She stood poised on the last step, her knuckles white as she twisted her hands together.
“TJ.”
“Scott.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone then. Scott will fill you in, TJ.”
“Sure, Mark. Thanks.” She dragged her gaze from Scott’s and leaned forward to kiss Mark’s cheek.
With a pat on the back for Scott and a wave to both, Mark got in his car and drove away. For a long moment, TJ stared at Scott, taking in the tight lines around his mouth, the tired wariness in his eyes.
“Would you like a beer?”
“Cheers.”
“Come on up and take a seat. I’ll be out with one in a minute. Sarge! Look who’s home.” She turned and headed up the stairs as Sarge came bounding around the corner. At the top of the stairs she paused to watch him go down on his haunches to give the dog a belly rub. Lucky dog, she thought.
When she came out a few minutes later with a cold beer in her hands, Scott was at the veranda railing looking out across the valley. He turned at the sound of her footsteps and accepted the bottle she held out to him. Eyes on hers, he drank deeply.
“God, that tastes good!”
TJ levered herself up on the railing and swung her legs over the other side to face the same view he’d been admiring.
“So, you’re off the hook?” She kept her face turned to the valley.
A sigh and shuffle before the glass bottle clinked down on the rail, which moved beneath her as he hoisted himself up and swung his legs over too. His warm thigh pressed against hers. She’d missed those subtle touches that sent the blood pulsing through her.
“Yes. They found nothing to tie me to any of it. The tipoff they received was that my businesses were being used to launder drug money. Since the addresses of two of those dealerships were on Tiny’s list, it looked a little suspicious.”
He offered her the beer. She looked at the bottle and took it from him. Their fingers brushed and she raised her eyes to his face. Dark eyes stared back at her, searching. For what?
“Do they know where the tip off came from?”
“No, but they have their suspicions.”
“Why were the addresses of your dealerships on Tiny’s list?”
He took a while to answer.
“Because they were being used. I’ve handed all the evidence I have over to them.”
“So how come you’re in the clear?”
“Because my signature isn’t on any of the deals. The money was being laundered through used car sales. The customers would come in and pay cash for older models. The investigation turned up that those cars were then traded or sold on a few months later.”
“Whose signature was on those deals?” Even as she asked the question, TJ had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.
“Serena’s.”
She watched his throat work as he swallowed a mouthful of beer.
“She set you up? The bitch!”
A hint of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Aah, I’ve missed you, Tiger.” He bumped her shoulder with his. “Yes, she set me up. A continuation of her vendetta.”
“What happens now?”
“The focus of the investigation is now on the link between Serena and Gino Bennetti. As it turns out, Serena is Paul Price’s niece. His nightclub was used as the headquarters. Apparently Mark has video evidence and a set of dodgy books from Price’s arrest that ties in with some of the clues in Tiny’s notebook. Problem is, the chief suspect happens to be a lawyer.”
“Bennetti?” She shivered. “His son Luke is up in the shed with the boys now. Poor kid. The man’s a pig.”
“A pig we hope will soon be off the streets. If they can make their case stick.” He swung his legs back over the railing and dropped onto the veranda deck. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin in the corner.
TJ turned to face him but stayed on the railing, her hands gripping the edge. “So where’ve you been for three weeks?”
“Helping them with their investigation. I’ve spent three weeks sleeping on an uncomfortable couch in Harold Jones’s apartment. That man snores like a goddam freight train!”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I couldn’t. Not until we’d figured out who set me up. This goes a whole lot deeper than Serena’s vendetta against me. They thought it might be safer if I didn’t come home.”
Home. “Is this home for you now? Or will you be moving on for another challenge?”
He moved to stand in front of her and reached out a hand to cup her cheek. “I think I’ve found a challenge right here that will keep me busy for a very long time.”
Her heart skipped a beat as he whispered the words against her lips and his hand skimmed up her neck and into her hair.
TJ closed her eyes and revelled in the sensations his fingers created as they gently massaged her scalp, applying pressure to inch her forward. She sank into his kiss, her arms wrapped around his neck as she wriggled closer, desperate for contact. Still not close enough,
she wrapped her legs around his hips and stretched her torso against him like a satisfied cat.
Scott’s hand slipped from behind her head to trail down her back and pressed her closer still. Muscular rigidity met soft buttery curves, as he lifted her off the railing. Her legs tightened around him, the thin cotton of her track pants no barrier against his need. She rubbed against him, satisfied with the low growl from his throat.
The hand on her back moved to hoist her up away from temptation and caressed her bottom. “Easy, Tiger,” he said breaking the kiss. “How long will the boys be kept amused by that racket?” He tilted his head towards the shed where the boys were torturing yet another rock song.
“Until their curfew ends in about an hour.”
“And the guy on the mini-excavator?”
“He’ll leave when he’s done.”
“So, have you got anything planned for the next hour or so?”
TJ smiled, loosened her legs and slid down his body. “Oh, I think I can find something to keep me amused.” Her finger trailed down the line of buttons on his shirt and she pressed a kiss at the V of the opening. “Do you think we’ve tamed the tiger enough to keep the boys out of trouble?”
“It’s a war that will never end. All we can do is fight it, one battle at a time.” His lips brushed her head. “Together. Mark is doing everything he can to get to the bottom of this and crack the drug ring. We’ll keep doing our bit. Later, you and the boys can give me an update on what you’ve got planned. But right now?” Strong fingers feathered up her spine and lightly brushed against her breast. “Right now, I’ve got another tiger to tame.”
TJ offered no resistance as he swept her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. The view wasn’t bad from there, she thought. His jeans moulded his tight bum perfectly, the muscles clenching and loosening with each stride into the house and up towards the bedroom. One arm braced against his warm back, she allowed the other to slip under the waistband to caress the firm skin underneath.
He patted her bottom as he manoeuvred through the door and kicked it closed behind them. Gently he lowered her onto the bed and knelt over her. Her hands crept up to loosen the buttons on his shirt. He shrugged it off, dipping his head to kiss her nose, her eyes and finally, her lips.
“I love you, Tiffany-Jane.”
“And I love you … but you’re still a pompous arse.”
He smiled at the reminder of the first time they met and spent the next hour proving her wrong.
Mark Johnson sat at his desk with the evidence that had begun to mount, along with a string of suspects. Insufficient evidence for a conviction, but enough to build a case and point the finger squarely in the direction of Gino Bennetti being involved. All he needed was a crackdown to catch him red-handed with his hand in the pie. Unfortunately, the lawyer was clever enough to remain on the right side of the very thin line of his association with the underworld of drugs and criminal activities. But even lawyers made mistakes eventually and, when Gino Bennetti made his, Mark would be waiting.
—0—
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ISBN: 9780857990297
Title: Under the Hood
Copyright © 2013 by Juanita Kees
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