by Amie Denman
Bling’s captain docked along the first row close to the mouth of the marina. Maybe he was like the guys who parked their fancy cars far out in the mall parking lot so that no one would ding their doors. Maybe he just wasn’t very friendly or didn’t plan to stay long. Just what I needed. A prima donna to take care of. I waited for him to come into the office to pay his temporary docking fee.
As soon as he strutted through the door and took a good look around the marina store his manner changed from movie star to regular guy. He pulled off his tricked-out sunglasses and came directly over to me.
“Jazz. Where can we meet up to talk about getting a wire on you?”
I froze. My first thought was that I’d been found out. I stood and stared at the flamboyant boat captain.
Finally, he said, “Jazz. It’s me, John Johnson.”
“You’re black.” Quite possibly my most foolish statement ever. And the competition for that title was pretty tough considering my incredible ability to make an ass of myself.
He laughed. “Either that or this is a hell of a disguise.”
“I mean…when I saw you on Friday you were a wiener dog.”
“Surprise.”
“What are you going to be next time I see you? I like to be prepared.”
“For the next few days, this is it. You like it?” He raised his hands in the air and did a slow, dramatic turn. No doubt he was a fine-looking man. He was shirtless, so it didn’t require any imagination at all to appreciate the merits of the FBI’s physical training program. Judging from the rest of the package, you could pretty much assume that the parts concealed by baggy shorts were top quality. If I’d been even slightly interested in adding one more sexy man to my collection of things to worry about, I would probably have enjoyed the show a lot more. Harry would sure as heck kill for a front row ticket. I hoped that I’d be able to tell him all about it one of these days.
“Looks good. Your disguise guy must have put in some overtime on this one.”
“Baby, this is all me.” He looked a little offended. I felt bad but figured dealing with people who were a pain in the ass was all in a day’s work for him. He did work for the government, after all.
“So, about that wire…” I thought moving forward with this conversation was probably a safe bet.
“Right. I have to show you how to put in on and get it taped in place so you’re ready when you need to be.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“Not really, but it’s nice to have someone help you if possible.”
He paused and glanced around the office again. I thought he was going to offer to do the deed himself, but I didn’t see myself having that kind of relationship with Johnson. Maybe if he wore the wiener dog costume. Less personal that way.
“In your case, though,” he said after our mutual awkward pause, “you probably have to go it alone. The fewer people who know about this, the better.”
I glanced out the window and saw Marlena headed toward the office. Johnson followed my glance.
“Can I come to your house tonight? Show you how to use the wire and talk about the plan?” he asked hastily.
“Sure.” I was getting used to men visiting me after dark. I didn’t have time to explain that I wasn’t the only one who lived there, but I figured I’d have to work that one out later. Perhaps I could send Harry out for ice cream or condoms or something.
Marlena was almost to the door, so I shoved the paperwork for a temporary dock registration toward Johnson and told him to start filling it out. He was writing down a name I’d never heard of and an address that had to be fictitious when the bells on the door jangled. After he paid cash for a week’s worth of dockage and left, Marlena gave me the scrunchy-lip look.
“Seems like he was in here an awful long time,” she said.
I pretended to be engrossed in alphabetizing a stack of dock registration cards.
“Sure is a good-looking man,” she continued.
I put extra effort into shuffling the papers so that their edges were perfectly lined up.
“I don’t generally approve of kiss-and-tell, but I’m having a dry spell myself. Maybe you want to tell me about the string of hot men you got lined up. You seem to be getting a lot of attention lately.”
I put down the cards and grinned as I pointed with both hands to my boobs. I hoped Marlena would buy it. She seemed generally motivated by sex, so maybe I didn’t have to make it any more complicated than that.
Marlena ticked off my list of men with her brightly painted fingers. “Let’s see…sexy fireboy, Damien Cerberus, gangster rapper and handsome Harry.”
“You can’t count Harry.”
“I like looking at him, so I can count him if I want. It’s not like I’m gonna do the wild thing with any of them.” She paused. “Not like you.”
“Puh-leeze,” I said dramatically. “I only slept with one of them. Unless you count sleepovers in Barbie sleeping bags when Harry and I were kids.”
“You’ll lose your slutty reputation if that gets out.”
“There’s still time to reclaim it. I’m going to go talk to Cerberus about the boat ho gig.”
“Way to go, girl. You go on out there and show him what he bought. I’ll mind the store.”
Marlena was absorbed in arranging a rack of tourist fliers and magazines, and I wondered if she was going to make good on her promise to tell me the dirt she knew about Cerberus. Good thing I already knew the worst. At least I hoped it was the worst. Chief Balcheski was probably a better source of information than Marlena these days. Even if he was a lot less colorful.
I mustered up my courage, bolstered by my financial desperation and my dedication to bringing down the bad guys. I headed out the door and tried not to wince in the sun. My two hours and five minutes of sleep had nearly erased my hangover, but it was waiting in the wings ready to bring down the house if provoked.
A logistical problem presented itself immediately. Greenback and the fireboat were docked across from each other at the ends of parallel rows. Kurt would see me walk by. I had already made up my mind to put my hottie fireman infatuation to rest at the bottom of the marina with my missing shoe. Maybe I’d let him beg me for forgiveness for that wedding photo sometime in the distant future, but for now, it was eyes off the Mr. June Calendar temptation. I had other fish to fry and the cooking was getting serious. I didn’t want to get burned.
Even though I wanted to punish and ignore Kurt, I didn’t know how I was going to pull it off. Truthfully, I wasn’t that good at being mean or resisting temptation. I thought for a moment about what Old Lady Clark would do. Maybe some sensible clunky shoes would give me the strength to stalk down the dock to Greenback without even a glance at the fireboat. Of course, Clark would probably be speechless if she knew I’d slept with Kurt and was signing up to be a boat ho. That would not earn me the secret code for the school copier or a get-out-of-hell-free card.
Despite my tough resolve, I resorted to slinking toward Greenback as quietly as my deck shoes could allow. I hoped Kurt would be engrossed in inspecting important fire equipment, giving all his attention to oiling something or scrubbing all the masks on the dive gear. Perhaps touching up the shiny paint on the sides. I was kidding myself. Kurt seemed to have Jazz-radar.
“Jazz,” he called.
I heard it loud and clear, even though I didn’t want to. He said my name as if nothing at all had happened between us. No sex followed by his escape with the bridal party. No wedding photo in today’s paper. I pretended not to hear him.
As I got closer to Greenback, I discovered my next problem. Where the heck did you knock when visiting someone on a boat? Even though I knew Cerberus must be on board, I didn’t see him.
“Sunshine,” Kurt said.
Only one row of docks over, I’d have to be deaf not to hear him. I was starting to feel rotten and deceitful. What if Kurt really was innocent in the whole bridal fiasco? What if he thought I’d only used him for sex and was now tossing
him overboard? What if he spent the rest of the afternoon shedding tears into his fire helmet? I tried to toughen up by remembering the bogus wedding photo that was burned into my brain. Still, my resolve nearly broke.
I was about to look over at Kurt when Greenback’s sliding glass door opened. Cerberus stepped out onto the walkway that led around the topside of his deck. He looked relaxed and disturbingly handsome on that gorgeous boat. He also looked pretty happy to see me, and at that moment, I was relieved to see him. Relief is close enough to happy on the emotional scale. Even when facing a murderer and a thief.
“Come aboard,” he said.
I hadn’t planned to be alone with him today. I’d pictured a casual, professional conversation out in the open on the dock. We’d discuss the job and he’d show me a contract. The contract would have an outrageously large number on it that could deliver me from the clutches of my credit cards and land me in something nice with a sunroof. Perhaps we’d shake hands and I’d agree to bring a copy of my driver’s license and proof of citizenship to his business office. Maybe he’d issue me a company polo shirt complete with the logo on the left chest pocket.
Walking onto a boat with a man used to taking what he wanted was definitely getting myself in deep sooner than I’d planned.
I waffled. I had two choices. Stand there in the bright light ignoring Kurt but feeling his eyes on every part of me. Or enter the smooth, smoky-glass windowed cabin on the boat of a dangerous man. My fear of physical danger was no match for my emotional weakness.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling sweetly, as I stepped onto Greenback.
Chapter Twenty-one
Inside the boat was cool and quiet. I stepped into a living room area with leather seats and an attached kitchen. Tasteful green curtains hung on the large windows that swooped down each side of the boat. There were no personal knickknacks and the boat smelled expensive. Definitely out of my league. My yearly salary would maybe pay to fill up the gas tank on Greenback twice.
“I hope I’m right about why you came out here,” Cerberus said as he closed the sliding door with a quiet snap and turned toward me.
“It’s about the job,” I said quickly. Now that the door was closed, I was more nervous than ever. The windows were tinted so that we could see out, but no one could see in unless they had their face pressed against the glass. I could vaguely see the fireboat one dock over, but no one would be knocking on that glass door and coming to my rescue.
“That’s good too.” He went into the galley and pulled out two glasses. “Drink?”
“Thanks, but I’m working today.”
If he only knew about the margarita machine in the marina office, he’d see right through my excuse.
“So am I.”
“But, um, you…” I stumbled.
“I know, this isn’t my marina, but when you own your own business, you’re always working.” While it sounded a little superior, he had a point.
“Guess you’re right. I did come out here to talk business. Did you want to review the terms for the hostess job next weekend?”
He filled his glass with something that looked like gin and moved closer to me.
“Depends on what you have to offer.”
In my mind, I’d pictured myself graciously offering to take his job and allowing him to pay me generously. Now he was playing with me. I would have liked to tell him to go fuck himself, and that’s exactly what I would have done if Balcheski and Johnson weren’t counting on me to blow this case wide open. It seemed I was the one who was going to get blown wide open.
“I can offer excellent people skills, good organization and some knowledge of boats. Especially docking.”
A bit of humor might diffuse some of the tension in the cabin.
Amusement played over his lips at the memory of my fall from grace on the back of this boat, but he didn’t laugh out loud. I wanted to dissolve into nervous giggling—the last defense of the damned and hopeless—but I was still trying to seem tough enough to pull this off. Guys like Damien Cerberus fed on the emotionally weak.
“I was hoping for something just a little more personal,” he said as he ran his finger down my arm from my neck and all the way to my fingertips. Coming from a different man, such a touch would have left a trail of fire. This guy left a trail of goose bumps and I tried to keep from shivering. I had to get out of there before I wrecked the whole investigation by kicking him in the shins and running screaming down the dock. That kind of behavior would probably draw the attention of my favorite rescuer, who was currently in disgrace with me anyway, but would not help me get the job.
I was almost convinced that I really wanted to be a boat ho. At least for a day. I imagined boat hos would generally be flattered by the attentions of rich, sexy men. I would too, if they weren’t embezzling criminals who murdered their wives on the high seas and then covered it up. Sure I’d stabbed my now ex-husband in the ass, but it wasn’t premeditated and I didn’t, officially, plan to kill him.
That was the Jazz Shepherd I needed to summon up right now. The one who looked fear in the eye and grabbed whatever was available to wreck some havoc. I could flirt with Cerberus to get what I wanted and then flounce right off his boat. Maybe I had some leftover margarita in me yet.
“So,” I said in what I hoped was a coy, sophisticated manner, “what’s a handsome, wealthy man like you missing in his life?”
Hello, playing with fire.
“I’m not missing much,” he said as he closed his hand around one of my wrists. “I always get want I want.”
I totally shocked myself by not jerking my hand away. My inner Jazz was appalled, but tough-cookie Jazz was taking no prisoners.
“I have ways of getting what I want too.”
“Maybe we could compare wish lists.”
I cocked my head and shrugged one shoulder in a move that I’d seen on the big screen to imply coquettishness.
“Sounds intriguing. Maybe we can get together later this week when I’m working your show.”
His eyes were on my breasts and one hand was snaking in their direction. I had the gas can, the match and about fifteen seconds to get out before the explosion.
“That is,” I said sweetly as I grabbed his sneaky hand, “if you’re still offering me the job.”
“You haven’t shown me how much you want it.”
I stifled nervous laughter and gave him a confident, alluring look. “I’d love to, but Marlena was expecting me back in the office five minutes ago.”
“Let her wait.”
“I wish I could, but she’ll come looking for me. Trust me, you don’t want her boarding your boat. She’s been drinking since she got up this morning and she’s somewhere between mean and puke.”
Cerberus glanced around at his expensive boat and appeared torn between two passions. Take advantage of me or maintain the sanctity of Greenback. I gambled on the power of his materialism, and it paid off.
“Maybe we can pick up where we left off on Thursday night,” he said.
“Thursday night?” My voice squeaked on a high-note question.
“I’m picking you up and giving you first-class service to my marina.”
Me and him. Alone. On a boat. At night. I pictured Harry artfully arranging the flowers for my funeral.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I’ll get there in plenty of time on Friday morning. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Sure I do,” he said, “this way I get you where I want you and when I want you.”
I threw up a little in my mouth, but was able to cover it with a cough and a sashay-type run to the sliding door. I turned around somewhat theatrically when I had one foot out the door. “’Til Thursday, then.”
“Eight o’clock,” he said.
I practically leaped from the boat. The vomit was one creepy thought away and I had to get to the inner Marlena sanctum before I either screamed, puked, cried hysterically or threw myself at the feet of any man who did not want me t
o risk my one-hundred fifteen pounds on some dangerous project.
I hustled away from Greenback, probably white as a sheet, possibly greenish. I knew Kurt was watching. My guess was that he’d counted the minutes and seconds I was on Greenback, planning to come in and rescue me. That is, if he thought Cerberus was dangerous. I wondered again if Kurt knew anything at all about the mayor’s dealings. He seemed pretty close to the mayor’s family and the city office was right next to the fire station, but I doubted the rank-and-file firefighters had anything to do with finances. Just how much did he know? I glanced in Kurt’s direction.
He was standing on the back of the fireboat with both hands gripping the rail. All the muscles were standing out on his arms. Probably in a testosterone-induced rage because I blew him off and boarded a gorgeous boat with its sexy, if revolting, owner. Almost exactly twenty-four hours after we had enjoyed the afternoon upstairs in Kurt’s house. That might tick off your average man. Kurt was an above-average man in the testosterone department. I’d already seen a couple of impressive examples of that fact.
I didn’t want to deal with him right now. I was feeling vulnerable and ready to let the tears fly at the slightest provocation. I had faced down one man who disgusted me to the core and didn’t think I had the emotional courage to face down one who confused me. I couldn’t get the wedding photograph out of my mind. Even though Marlena might call me a dumbass, I was willing to listen to Kurt’s explanation. But now wasn’t the time. I was trying to slay the dragons while staying alive.
“Jazz.”
I could tell from the way he said it that his teeth were gritted together. More of a hiss than a word. I kept walking, head down, fists clenched, keeping my bravado together.
“Stop!”
This time his tone was more desperate than teeth-gnashing angry. I slowed down and then noticed that he was walking beside me, one dock over. He was easily keeping up and leaning his head my way to look at my face. I did the sensible thing and covered it with my hands. Like little kids who think you can’t see them if they can’t see you, I thought maybe this would discourage him. I should have realized how tenacious he was.