by Marie Jermy
“Toss your gun over here,” Nick warned, “or SWAT will plug you with more holes than a piece of Swiss cheese.”
Sanders didn’t comply, so Nick fired a couple of rounds into the ground just by Sanders’s head. Still Sanders didn’t comply. “This is your last warning. You’ve got five seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two…”
Sanders pushed his gun toward Nick’s feet. “Hold your fire, guys.” He holstered his weapon. “Steve, Jez, come here.”
However, before Steve moved, Sanders suddenly bounded to his feet and lunged at Nick. There was a glint of metal and then Nick was down, the blade of a flick knife embedded in his chest. Where the fuck had Sanders gotten that knife from?
“No!” In the next second, and screaming like a banshee, Jez leapt to the side, picked up the discarded shovel, and whacked Sanders across the back of the head with it. Sanders dropped like a stone, not surprisingly out cold.
She rushed to Nick’s side just as Steve got there. Nick then surprised them both by suddenly sitting up, the frown dipping his brows showing irritation. “Didn’t I tell you not to go off half-cocked?”
His mouth fell open. “Me? You’re the one with a knife buried in his chest!”
“Who says?” Nick unzipped his jacket and inspected the inch-long slice in the material. “Damn! Now that really pisses me off. This was a new jacket.”
“A bullet-proof vest!” Steve exclaimed on seeing the black padding. “Where the fuck did you get that?”
Pulling the knife free and folding it to make it safe, Nick stood up. “Robert Cannell lent it to me, along with his Sounds of War CD.”
“Sounds of War CD?” Steve asked.
Jez laughed then, the delightful sound echoing around the cavern.
“I don’t know what you’re laughing about.” Nick turned on Jez, his lips pressed into a firm line, his irritation still showing. “Didn’t I tell you to let me deal with Sanders?”
“Well spank my ass.”
Nick’s eyes grew dark and hot. Steve knew that look. His cock sprang to life and he shivered with anticipation.
“Oh, I will. I promise you.”
Her gaze dropped shyly, but a small smile of comprehension played on her lips as Nick crushed her to him. Steve took his place to her back and put his arms around them both, his eyes stuck on Nick’s. Nick ruffled his hair.
“Thank fuck, you’re both all right. I love you,” Nick ground out to him before dropping his eyes to Jez, who looked up. “I love you.” He shushed her before she answered. “You don’t have to say anything. Not yet. We’re giving you time, remember?”
The strong beam of a flashlight then cut across them and Chief Connors’s voice boomed in. “Nick? Jez? Steve?”
“All okay, Sir.” Nick threw a cheery wave at Connors, whose attention was stuck on Sanders’s inert body. “He’s not dead, but he’ll probably have a headache when he wakes. Jez struck him a shovel.”
“Remind me not to cross you.” Connors grinned at Jez then beckoned to somebody behind him. Steve immediately recognized Robert Cannell, the owner of the Post Office, General and Hardware store on Second Street, as he entered. His expression held amusement and there was a small portable CD player in his hand. The other, a tall, tanned, blond-haired man took a little longer to place.
“Hey, Detective South. Where’s East and West?”
Steve rolled his eyes at Dan Ferris’s sarcastic quip, almost identical to the one he used eighteen months ago at Hollywood Police Station when they briefly first met. “Ha-ha.” He indicated to the CD player and grinned at Nick. “Reminds me of the confession in the cream cake plan you pulled a year back.”
“Cuff him and get him out of here,” Connors ordered.
Nick nodded. “With pleasure, Sir. Give us a hand, Steve.”
After he pointed out the syringes and the box of ketamine on the ledge, which Connors sealed into an evidence bag he produced from his pants pocket, Steve helped Nick carry the unconscious Sanders out of the mine. He blinked in the sunlight as he looked around. He hadn’t the chance to admire the view while he and Jez followed Sanders into the mine, but he took his sweet time now.
The mine’s entrance faced the lake, its shallow waters frozen solid, with the surrounding land jam-packed with towering trees and dense undergrowth. And that cloudless blue sky. Wow, it was never-ending. The crystal-crisp scent of pine and snow filled his nostrils and he took a deep breath, entranced by the mystical, frosty heaven. There were just no other words. Something then occurred to him. There were dozens of footprints in the snow, but no tire tracks. There was no sign of a vehicle, either. Jez put his thought into words.
“You’re not going to carry him all the way back to the station, are you?”
Nick snorted. “No. He’s walking.”
Steve eased Sanders to the ground while Nick disappeared back into the mine. He returned with the bucket, went over to the lake, stamped on the ice with his boot to make a hole, and filled it with icy water.
“Detective North, don’t even think about it.”
Steve burst into laughter when Nick ignored Connors and tipped the bucket over Sanders. He suddenly came to life, spluttering and snorting, water dripping from his chunky nose like a leaky faucet.
“Motherfucking bastard!”
They all ignored Sanders while he was marched, shivering and swearing, back to the station where he was given a blanket and locked in a cell after removing his drenched uniform for forensics to examine.
After their statements were taken, Connors dismissed everybody, including Nick. Nick protested, stating he wanted to interview Sanders, but Steve pulled him from the station before Connors blew his nuts over Nick’s persistence, not to mention the amount of F-worded threats coming from the cell.
“The chief suspended Matt once for his swearing,” Jez told them as they stood on the sidewalk. She grimaced, and Steve knew she wasn’t exactly happy that her next duty shifts, starting from that night, were to be covered by officers from Butte. He didn’t need to be a detective to know she also wanted to interview Sanders. But as Connors pointed out, the case would be biased since she was both a victim and witness to Sanders’s crimes. However, he did understand the chief’s reasoning for sending her home. She’d been through a real shitty ordeal and needed some time to recover. Perhaps a visit to this house that Nick had inquired about would take her mind off things.
“I need chocolate.”
Steve rolled his eyes at Nick. He inclined his head toward Jez. “If Nick can arrange it, do you want to see this house tomorrow?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, yes.”
The acceptance had hardly left her mouth when Nick whipped out his iPhone and was putting in a call to the real estate agent. After a minute of talking, Nick swiped a finger across the LCD screen to end the call and beamed. “2:30 okay with you?”
She nodded and linked her arms through theirs. “You need chocolate and I need a coffee. CC’s?”
“Sounds good,” Steve agreed.
They began walking up the street. “So, what’s this confession in the cream cake plan about?” Jez asked.
Steve laughed. “Oh, man, it cracks me up whenever I think about it. That plan was nuttier than a fruit cake. Nick and I were investigating a fraud at a large bakery. One of the employees was a bit light-fingered with the cash register. Like to brag, too. What a dipshit! He believed the girl who he bragged to thought he was cool and wanted to be his girlfriend and partner in crime. It was the girl who reported him. She had a rap sheet for minor demeanors but was a decent young thing who wanted the chance to put her life back on track and make something out of it. Nick had the idea to put a tape recorder in one of the cakes.”
She grinned. “Did it work? Did you get a confession?”
Nick grinned. “It was a bit muffled, but it was enough to put him behind bars for three years.”
Steve let out a deep chuckle. He glanced at Nick and noticed the faraway look in his eyes. He knew exactly what the man was t
hinking but he asked the question anyway. “Do you remember Daisy, the woman who baked the cake?”
Nick nodded. “Damn, she had a mean five o’clock shadow.”
“And she kicked your ass for that!” Steve felt Jez tense beside him. She wasn’t laughing. Indeed, her expression was set in stone. Icy, even. What the fuck? Okay, she didn’t know the full story but even so…What the fuck!
Chapter 17
Jez wiped the steam from the bathroom cabinet mirror and stared at her reflection. The stubble on her chin was plain to see. She closed her eyes, wishing she didn’t have to do what she did to give the appearance of a normal woman.
The day before had been hard on her and not just because she’d been taken hostage by someone she thought she knew. She could deal with George, like she did with anybody else who broke the law. They weren’t worth wasting her thoughts on. No, it had been hard because of Nick and Steve. In particular, Nick and the tactless “five o’clock shadow” comment he’d made. First impressions, and in Jez’s opinion, it sounded like Nick had poked fun at a woman with a hairy chin.
Nick had, and pretty quickly redeemed himself. Since she’d wanted to know the full story, they had stopped at CC’s for the coffee and hot chocolate as planned. She’d been careful not to show the disgust she’d felt, yet Jez felt sure Steve had read her like a book. He didn’t say anything, however, just watched her closely. Too close, she thought. Nick had told her about Daisy and how she’d whipped his ass for being an ignorant jerk. Daisy had PCOS, and after his whipping, he knew everything about the condition and he and Daisy were firm friends. If anything, he was a bit protective of her. Not that Daisy needed anybody fighting her corner.
Jez sighed. Was she brave enough to let the world see her stubble? What would Nick and Steve say or do? She hadn’t stayed the night with them, citing a headache to give her space and time to think. Thankfully, they hadn’t badgered her, proving they were good at their word not to rush her. Her night had been long without much sleep, but even though she had accepted Nick’s sincere regret, she honestly didn’t know what they’d say or do. What she knew for certain though, was that she couldn’t risk it. She wasn’t Daisy. She didn’t have Daisy’s strength and never would. She would never have the courage to look men in the eye and defy them to question her five o’clock shadow.
She opened her eyes and picked up the razor.
* * * *
“And this is the main bedroom.”
Nick ignored Steve’s larger-than-life lusty grin and set his attention on Jez instead. She stood on the other side of the empty room looking at the faded flowery wallpaper. He knew she wasn’t really seeing it and that her mind was elsewhere. It didn’t take a PhD to know something was wrong, he just didn’t know what. He and Steve had discussed her behavior and attitudes after they’d walked her home the afternoon before, but hadn’t come up with anything solid other than to deduce her “headache” must be because of her shitty hostage ordeal at the hands of that prick Sanders. They’d really missed her in their bed during the nighttime. Jez completed them—but they had promised not to rush her and were sticking by it.
“It’ll be a bit of a squeeze to get a king-sized bed in there, so perhaps we can knock that wall down that separates this and the second bedroom. We’ll still have a spare room. What d’ya say, Nick? Jez?”
Nick flicked a glance at Steve. His observation made sense. “Or perhaps we can build an extension at the back. We’ll ask around, see if anyone can recommend any good builders. Unless you know someone?” he said to Jez.
She gave him a sweet smirk. “Mark Raven’s a builder and his dad’s an architect.”
“Mark Raven? Hmm. I’ll think about that one.”
“He is good despite what folks around here think of him.”
“Who’s Mark Raven? And what’s he done?” Steve asked.
“Tell you later.” Nick took one final look around. “So, it’s a yes then?” Both nodded enthusiastically, though for a moment Jez’s smile turned sad. He frowned. She was keeping something from them. “Okay, let’s go and tell the happy news to Ruskin downstairs.”
Dwight Ruskin, the real estate agent in charge of the property since Reagan was dead and had left no family, was full of smarmy smiles and nasal tones that bothered Nick into wondering how much commission Ruskin thought he was worth. The man seriously needed his ass kicked and his nose unblocked, preferably with a plunger.
“Well, folks, lady and gentlemen, do we have a sale?”
Half expecting Ruskin to start clapping in his giddiness—obviously his vision had been filled with dollar notes falling into his lap like confetti—Nick nodded and quoted thirty thousand dollars below the asking price. The resulting snort wasn’t enough to clear Ruskin’s nasal passageways, but it made Jez turn her face away, her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.
“That’s a bit low for a property of this high standard,” Ruskin said once he’d stopped snorting with shock.
“High standard?” Steve took up the negotiations. “A dilapidated kitchen, electrical wiring that’s a fire hazard, decor that predates the signing of the Declaration, more creaking floorboards than I can count, and a garden that Tarzan could swing through is not high standard. It’s a joke. We’ll need thirty grand just to replace the kitchen. How long did you say this property’s been on the market?”
“Four months. And I’ve had plenty of viewings.”
“I’m sure you have.” Steve scratched a spot above his right eyebrow. “Any offers? No, I thought not,” he said when Ruskin didn’t answer. “You know why, don’t you? You’re asking way too much. Be smart. Accept our offer, and with the commission earned you should be able to treat yourself and a loved one to a trip somewhere exotic for the winter.”
Ruskin looked ready to blow out a “forget it” snort before his expression turned thoughtful and he produced a business card. “Let me think about it. I have your number.”
“I can’t believe that,” Jez said as they watched Ruskin drive away, leaving them to walk the mile back to town.
“What that he abandoned us or that he’s gonna accept our offer?” Nick asked with a wide grin.
She rolled her eyes heavenward where the sky had turned leaden. “We walked here, remember?”
“With Steve bitching all the way.”
“Hey! I was cold.” Steve stamped his feet. “Still am.”
“I don’t see how. You’ve got two of everything on. Thermals and socks.”
Jez giggled. “Wait a few more weeks when we’re in December. Then it’ll get really cold. More snow, too.” She pointed upward. “Actually that snow’s already on its way. I’d say another foot or so is set to fall overnight.”
“Aw, man.”
They all laughed.
Deciding on a long and very leisurely meal at Rendezvous, they finally left the restaurant at about seven and made their way to Rustlers. No snow as yet, for which Steve was eternally grateful. Nick paid for three shots of whisky then quickly made his way across to the station for the lowdown on Sanders. Connors greeted him at the office door.
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to turn up.” Connors smirked and tilted his coffee cup toward him. “Take a seat.”
Nick shook his head. “I said I’d only be five minutes.”
“Okay. Short summary then. Sanders is in debt, so he broke into the vets’, stole the drugs, and was intending to sell them for money. He’s not sorry. Not for the burglary. Not for taking hostages. Nothing. But he is shitting bricks.”
“The thought of a cop doing time?”
“No. He wouldn’t say much, but what I got was that he’s more scared of the loan shark he’s in debt to. He wouldn’t even give me a name. I might go back to his previous captain at the Vegas Metro and ask around. You never know this shark might be a big player and maybe it’ll be possible to help Sanders out a little bit.”
Nick couldn’t quite squelch his sarcasm. “That’s good of you, Sir.”
&
nbsp; Connors shrugged. “I ain’t got much time for Sanders, Nick. You know I don’t like him. I never really took to him, but he is one of my officers and I will try my best to help and understand him if I can. I do that for any officer under my command. I hope you’ll carry that on when I retire and you’re”—he gestured to his desk—“sitting in that chair.”
Nick nodded with respect. “You’re a good chief.”
“I know,” Connors returned, with a cocky gleam to boot. “Now get outta here.”
Thick, fluffy balls of snow had started to fall when Nick returned to Rustlers. One feel of the blustery wind that had kicked up and he knew it wouldn’t be long before blizzard conditions set in. Jez and Steve were now in a cozy huddle at the far end of the bar by the restrooms. He noted Steve must have brought another round because there were two empty shot glasses on the table along with his untouched drink plus another one. The glasses they were sipping from, Nick was sure they were exchanging mouthfuls of whisky with every kiss.
“You’re gonna need that out there, Stevie baby.” He smirked and sat down next to Jez, throwing his arm around her shoulders and gently tugging her to him so he could kiss her. “It’s snowing.” She nibbled on his lower lip before allowing his tongue access to her mouth. Her hand gripped his thigh and his cock immediately hardened with need.
“Peachy, just peachy,” Steve said with a grimace.
He eyed Steve steady and hot while he kissed Jez, and he savored the little moan she uttered. He felt Steve’s hand gripping his other thigh. The message in his heated hazel eyes was clear. He slowly broke the kiss, feeling the punch to his guts all the way to his toes when her eyelids fluttered open and he was greeted with the desire swirling in her aquamarine eyes. He knocked his whisky back in one go and reached for the other glass. “Speaking of peaches. I want to love your ass, angel.”
Her mouth turned up at the corners in a dreamy smile. “Mmm, I’d like that.”
“Me, too,” Steve said. “Have you experienced anal before?”