“He doesn’t get it, and now it’s my fault. Too much time has passed. I can’t say anything now. He buys me yogurt all the time. It’s like a gift he presents when he shows me some special flavor that he hasn’t seen me eat before. He tracks the flavors in his phone. The man truly doesn’t understand that yogurt’s dairy therefore animal-based,” Jace explained, his shoulders again dropping in defeat as love for his silly football player filled his heart.
“And you never say anything?” Lori asked.
“Never. Because he’s trying so hard,” Jace explained and continued filling the bowl.
“Colt is trying hard. I’m proud of him,” Eva agreed.
“Off topic, Mom,” Lori scolded her mother. “So, do you eat the yogurt he buys for you?”
“Only when he opens it and brings me a spoon, then I’ll take a bite or two to please him,” Jace confessed.
“Ah, Jace that’s sweet,” Lori cooed.
“Yeah, and dumb and expensive. I toss out cartons and cartons a week,” he said, laughing again at the absurdity of what he did every single day.
“Hey, Mama,” Dr. Knox, Mitch’s father said from the back door. “We’re almost ready.”
“Hey, Dad, we’re just talking about the yogurt,” Lori called out.
Dr. Knox was just about to close the door when he stopped and pushed it back open, the grin on his face turning to a laugh as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
“I always wondered what you thought about that,” he said, talking directly to Jace.
“I think he’s trying very hard and might have landed on his head one too many times,” Jace added to the laughter they all now shared.
“You might have a point.”
Dr. Knox inclined his head toward the patio, before opening the back door wide once again. “Come on. Let’s eat.”
Eva grabbed the condiment tray. Lori snatched up the chips and buns. Jace hurriedly worked on finishing the salad while keeping his eye on Colt walking up the steps in the swimming pool, all that water sliding off his toned, tanned body. Those huge biceps flexed as Colt raked his fingers through his wet hair.
Jace was a lucky, lucky man. His whole life revolved around that stunner who winked when he spotted Jace in the window. Colt stood there, staring at him, that sexy crooked grin spreading. Jace returned the grin, watching as Mitch threw a towel at Colt. The terry cloth hit his chest and fell into the swimming pool while Colt continued to openly stare at him. Finally, Colt broke the spell Jace was under by lifting an arm, encouraging him outside. Jace lifted a finger, asking for a minute, before dumping the vegetables inside the bowl. He grabbed the dressing he’d made earlier and went straight for the patio door. Colt met him there.
“Let me help you,” Colt said, reaching for the oversized bowl.
“I love you,” Jace whispered, and Colt lifted his startled gaze to Jace’s face at the unexpected endearment. “We were just talking about how well you take care of me.”
“I try. I want to,” Colt confirmed, stuck in this mid-motion of taking the bowl but unsure what he might have missed. Even after all this time, Colt worried about making a wrong step and driving Jace away. The problem with that theory was that Jace wasn’t ever going anywhere. All he wanted in the world stared at him in that moment, trying to figure out what was really going on.
Jace leaned in, giving Colt a quick peck on the lips. “And you do. Very well.”
Colt beamed at the praise and might have actually strutted, big salad bowl in hand, toward the waiting party.
Best Pecan Pie
Ingredients
3 large eggs
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 cup of light corn syrup
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 heaping tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup of pecans, coarsely chopped
1 unbaked or commercial pie crust
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Prepare the pie crust by placing it into an ungreased, regular 9-inch glass pie plate and fluting the edges.
Whisk the eggs together, then whisk in the sugar. Stir in the Karo syrup and the softened butter; mix well. Add the flour and the vanilla; combine well and fold in the pecans.
Pour into unbaked pie shell and bake at 350 degrees for about 55 to 60 minutes or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Shield outside edges of the pie with a pie shield or aluminum foil about halfway through cooking to prevent overbrowning.
Full Disclosure
Copyright © Kindle Alexander, 2014
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Edited by Jae Ashley
Special thanks to Pamela Ebeler
Cover art and interior print layout by Reese Dante
http://www.reesedante.com
First Edition September 2014
Print ISBN: 978-1-941450-02-4
Digital ISBN: 978-1-941450-01-7
Published by: The Kindle Alexander Collection LLC
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Kindle Alexander LLC, [email protected]. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Kindle Alexander, LLC. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author's rights and livelihood is appreciated.
Full Disclosure is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following trademarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
F-250: Ford Motor Company
AAA: American Automobile Association, Inc.
Advil: Wyeth, LLC
American Airlines: American Airlines, Inc.
American Express: American Express Marketing & Development Corp.
Apple: Apple, Inc.
Austin-Bergstrom International Airport: City of Austin
Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation
Bisquick: General Mills Marketing, Inc.
Blake Shelton: Blake Shelton, individual
Blue Bell: Blue Bell Creameries, L.P.
Boy Scout: Boy Scouts of America Corporation
Bud Light: Anheuser-Busch, Incorporated
Buick: General Motors LLC
Captain America: Marvel Characters, Inc.
Coke: The Coca-Cola Company
Coors: MillerCoors LLC
Crown: Diageo North America, Inc.
Doc Marten: Dr. Martens International Trading GmbH
Dr. Pepper: Dr Pepper/Seven Up, Inc.
Dodge Charger: Chrysler, LLC
Dulles International: Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority
Dumpster: Toccoa Metal Technologies, Inc.
Dunkin’ Donuts: Dunkin’ Donuts USA, Inc.
Embassy Suites: HLT Domestic IP LLC
ESPN: ESPN, Inc.
Glock: Glock, Inc.
Grateful Dead: Grateful Dead Productions Corporation
Harvard: President and Fellows of Harvard College Charitable C
orporation
Hilton: HLT Domestic IP LLC
International Police Association: International Police Association
iPad: Apple, Inc.
Lady Antebellum (Just a Kiss): Lady A Entertainment LLC
Levi's: Levi Strauss & Co. Corporation
Linkin Park (Crawling): Linkin Park, LLC
Mack Truck: Mack Trucks, Inc.
Mavericks: Dallas Basketball Limited
McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation
Mustang GT: Ford Motor Company
Omni Hotel: Omni Hotels Management Corporation
Princess Barbie: Mattel, Inc.
Prius: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha AKA Toyota Motor Corporation
Ranch Style (beans): Conagra Brands, Inc.
Ray-Bans: Luxottica Group S.P.A.
Red Bull: Red Bull GMBH LLC
SEALs: The Department of the Navy
Sharpie: Sanford, L.P.
Skype: Skype Corporation
SpongeBob: Viacom International Inc.
Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation
State of Decay: Microsoft Corporation
Stepford Wives: Paramount Pictures Corporation & DreamWorks, LLC
Styrofoam: The Dow Chemical Company
Superman: DC Comics General Partnership
Tahoe: General Motors LLC
Texas Department of Public Safety: Texas Department of Public Safety, state agency
Texas Rangers (baseball): Rangers Baseball, LLC
The Matrix: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
The Walking Dead: AMC Film Holdings LLC
Thunder: The Professional Basketball Club, LLC
Twilight Zone: CBS Broadcasting Inc.
Wranglers: Wrangler Apparel Corp.
YouTube: Google, Inc.
Chapter 1
The recline of Mitch Knox’s oversized leather chair fit him perfectly. This exact comfort level had required years of fine-tuning and honing the balance, but he’d invested the time, proud of the results. He sat at an angle, his Doc Marten booted feet propped securely against the file folders on his desk.
Lost in thought, Mitch’s brow narrowed as he bit at his thumbnail. His eyes stayed fixed on the inner workings of the Camp Beauregard, Louisiana, United States Marshals Service field office. Like normal, he wasn’t truly paying attention to anything going on outside his office door. What occupied his mind was a case on which he’d managed to get little more than a passing interest from his senior advisors and definitely zero dollars to help fund an investigation. Man, that frustrated the shit out of him.
The lingering doubt that plagued his thoughts surfaced. Why hadn’t he been able to move this case any further along in all these months? Clearly, he’d completely lost his touch. Maybe his age had something to do with that. He’d just turned thirty-three. Close to middle-age, or hell, he could qualify for a solid middle-age compared to the life expectancies in this country. Good thing his people lived to ripe old ages, or he’d really be down about this latest birthday.
The shrill ring from his antiquated office telephone interrupted his thoughts, drawing his attention back into the now. Since caller ID hadn’t made itself to the field office yet, Mitch was forced to answer the call blindly. He recoiled at the thought, but picked up the phone nonetheless. “Deputy Marshal Knox here.”
“This is Director Skinner.” The voice sounded strained on the other end, which was the norm, considering how much he’d been nagging his superior about the Colton Michaels case.
“Yes, sir, hang on.” Mitch reached over his desk, extending an arm as far as he could across his small office to shut the door. The move effectively drowned out all the noise coming from the large grouping of cubicles just outside. Mitch had plopped back in his seat by the time the door slammed firmly shut. “You rang?”
“You’re ignoring your email again. You’re being requested on a federal warrant to transport Carlos Chavez from Dallas to Washington tomorrow morning.”
“All right,” Mitch said absently, raising his feet back in place on his desk as he reached out to pull up his email. He searched the incoming messages, going all the way back before lunch, because, while he would never admit the words out loud, he hadn’t checked his email since he’d arrived this morning. Shit, now it was close to quitting time on a Friday. He needed to get moving.
Mitch held the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he brought the keyboard to his lap. He replied to the message quickly, letting them know he was on his way and took a second to print the details before forwarding the message to his assistant.
“Mitch, are you ignoring me again? I told you in your last performance evaluation, there’s a hierarchy in all this. When you ignore me, your boss, and then the senior ranking officer who’s also been emailing you this afternoon, that doesn’t bode well,” Director Skinner lectured.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Mitch paused, knowing full well it wasn’t time for jokes, but he loved annoying his higher-ups. He kind of lived for these moments. He waited until he finally heard the exasperated sigh on the other end of the phone.
Score! He achieved the desired result and grinned, probably for the first time that day. “Don’t worry, I already responded to the message. I’ll have to make a few calls, then I’ll get the first flight out. I’ll be there tonight, ready for the bust in the morning.”
“Then why are you still on the phone?” Skinner asked in a very lame attempt at humor.
“Ha ha. I keep telling you to leave the jokes to me. Bye.” He didn’t waste a second before he ended one call and started another. He dialed Ellen, his assistant, and pushed the speaker button.
“Yes, Your Grace,” she answered.
“What’s with all you jokesters today? This is serious law enforcement business. Not playtime!” Mitch scolded, cocking his head to the side. The blinds to his office window were raised, and if he bent a little farther, he could see her at her cubicle. She was looking directly at him. “I sent you an email. I need to arrange a trip to Dallas for departure ASAP. Once you get the details, will you forward them to the email address inside the message I sent you?”
“Yes, sir,” Ellen said with a bright smile. She was young, pretty, and extremely capable. And from day one, she’d always used the ‘sir’ on him, but as of his last birthday, the word seemed to take on a whole new meaning.
“What have I told you about that?” he asked, irritably.
“You told me you aren’t old enough to be a sir yet.” She made air quotes at the word sir. “But you are.” They had been through this before. He knew the comeback and could never beat her at this game, but it didn’t stop him from engaging.
“You don’t have to say it,” Mitch said drily in her pause.
“Because my parents always taught me to be respectful of my elders.” He made a show of rolling his eyes. She always had that same response, clearly very proud of her attempt at humor. She laughed and Mitch tried hard to hide his smile, not wanting to spur her on.
“You need better jokes.” He gave a little chuckle as he reached across the desk to end the call. That didn’t stop her. He should have known it wouldn’t as she opened his office door and stuck her head inside.
“Why? When that one still works so well!” The door shut quickly, and he ignored her completely as he packed his laptop and grabbed his cellphone off the charger. By the time he hit the elevators, his cell vibrated with an incoming email. Ellen was a keeper, even in her current state of becoming a pain in his ass. She’d already arranged his flight, departure in an hour and a half. Just enough time to grab his always ready kit and get to the airport.
Chapter 2
Mitch entered the airport like he always did, in almost a dead run. An hour and half after quitting time, during rush hour traffic, even in Pineville, Louisiana, clearly wasn’t enough time to get from his office to his apartment and then to the airport. He should have known better.
He slung his duffel over his shoulder as he slid his credit card in
to the closest kiosk and then hit continue when his name appeared on the screen. He went through the on-screen steps and grabbed his boarding pass before heading directly to TSA security. Thank god he could bypass the line and go the back way into the terminal. He handed over his badge to an employee who knew him all too well and easily passed the first checkpoint before being ushered to the next.
Mitch opened his laptop case and slid the duffel onto the conveyor belt before pulling his extra clip from a special compartment inside the bag. He unholstered the standard issue Glock he always had strapped inside the waistband of his jeans and placed both inside a tray. He liked the shock value the guys in the back got when they saw the weapon through the scanner’s monitor. He figured he was doing his civic duty by giving them the jolt they needed to refocus on their tedious jobs.
The whole time he unloaded, he worked the laces of his boots until they slid off his feet. From this point, he’d have to carry those as he ran for the gate.
“Hey, Mitch. Step inside, hands up please,” Velma, an older, female TSA agent, said.
“Hey, Velma, gonna pat me down this time?” he asked, standing still with his hands in the air as the machine took his body image.
“Only if I’m lucky. You know I like all those big muscles on my men. Makes for a real man,” she teased. A male TSA agent stood behind her and gave a grunt in her direction.
“He’s clean,” the guy said.
“Guess it wasn’t my day,” she said, cackling as he smiled and walked past her.
“I’m late or I’d go ahead and let you feel me up,” Mitch teased, grabbing his gear, waiting for the agent behind the desk to run his pistol through their computer system. He gave her a wink as she fanned herself.
“Oh lordy, Mitch Knox, you’re a fine-looking tease of a man. If I was ten years younger!” Velma was five foot nothing compared to his six foot four inch frame, but he bet money she could hold her own. Maybe even outdo him when things got down to it.
Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material Page 32