Under the Moonlight collection

by MaryAnn Kempher

  “Not at all,” Nene said. “I think you’re right.”

  “Now we just need a client to see it,” Jack said.

  Nene laughed and walked back to the door. “I’ll see you later,” she said. “Try to stop by this morning, if you have time. I have some nice warn cinnamon buns slathered in cream cheese frosting and a fresh pot of coffee just ripe for sharing.”

  Great, Jack thought as he waved. Just what I don’t need. Working across from a candy store/bakery was temptation enough, but this one was owned by a little old lady who seemed to want to fatten him up.

  He walked outside and stood next to Curt, examining the painted window. “Looks good,” Jack said.

  “Yeah,” said Curt, “very classy.”

  Jack shoved his hands into his pants pockets. The day was likely to warm up, but at eight a.m., it was still pretty chilly. That fresh coffee was sounding better and better.

  “Jeez,” said Curt. “Something smells good.”

  Jack laughed. He nodded toward the candy store. “Ms. Albright stopped by. She brought us a plant. Sort of an office-warming gift, I guess. She also happened to mention that they had cinnamon buns and fresh coffee available.”

  “Well?” said Curt. “What are we waiting for?”

  Jack followed Curt back inside and into the candy store. He wondered if being in a nearly all-pink room, surrounded by lollipops, gum drops, candy and brownies was somehow bad for his testosterone level. When he saw the platter of cinnamon buns on the counter, however, he decided it wouldn’t hurt him to get a little more in touch with his feminine side.

  ***

  When Jack and Curt returned from across the hall, they were surprised to see a man standing in their office, admiring their new plant.

  Jack recognized him instantly. “Mark?”

  “Jack,” said Mark, reaching out his hand. “How’s it going, buddy?”

  “Very well, thanks,” Jack said, shaking Mark’s hand. “Curt, this is Mark Barnes. Mark and I go way back in the Reno PD.”

  “We never got a chance to work a case together, though,” Mark added.

  Curt nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I heard you’d become a private dick,” Mark said, smiling. “I had to see for myself.”

  Jack smiled back. “A private investigator, thank you very much. Just finished moving in today.” He walked to his desk. “Sit down.”

  Mark followed, taking the seat near the plant Nene had dropped off. It was so crowded with foliage he stood and took the seat closer to Jack’s desk instead. “What’s up with the rain forest?” he asked, nodding toward the plant.

  “It’s a welcome gift from the bakery-slash-candy store across the hall,” Jack told him.

  Mark laughed, then said, “I thought you were looking a little softer around the middle than the last time I saw you.”

  Jack patted his flat stomach. “Not yet. But if the little old lady who runs that place has her way, I will soon enough.”

  “What brings you by?” Curt asked, hoping there might be a case.

  “I was in the neighborhood,” said Mark, “so I thought I’d stop by and check out your new digs and remind you about the party this Friday.”

  “I’ll be there,” said Jack. “Bringing Curt, too.”

  “Great,” said Mark. “The more, the merrier.”

  ***

  Fridays were Gaga’s mornings to open the store. She turned the bright overhead light on and looked around the room. It was hard for most people not to smile as they walked inside and saw the baked goods and colorful candy displays. But Gaga managed to suppress her limited amount of glee. After so many years, the smell of candy had started to take on a sickeningly-sweet smell to her.

  It was still dark outside, though, and this was her favorite time of day. Gaga smiled, if only to herself. She’d start a pot of coffee and have a sweet roll before the morning rush began. The morning rush, she thought. A bit of an overstatement. Still, they did have their regulars who would appear soon enough.

  Gaga flipped on the switch to the coffee pot she’d set up the night before and walked toward the counter, opening the small baked goods display case. She perked up, remembering that there was a cinnamon bun left over from the day before. She’d put it away herself.

  She could practically taste it…

  Annoyance filled Gaga when she looked into the case and saw the large tray that had held the cinnamon buns was empty. The frosting had been cleaned off the tray, too, leaving finger tracks. She wondered if the police could dust for prints through frosting?

  Gaga looked up and out the front window. Three boys were riding their skateboards past. She thought of a few other odd occurrences: half empty candy bags left on the counter—wrappers scattered on the floor. Could it be neighborhood kids? It seemed a logical conclusion. But if this was the work of neighborhood kids, she wondered, how were they getting in here, and why risk eating the things here?

  Why not take the candy and go?

  Chapter Three

  It was an understatement to describe twenty-eight year old Candy Dashwood as a neat freak. Her modest home had an open floor plan; the large living room could be seen from the kitchen and was separated only by a long counter top. Messes couldn’t be hidden anywhere…not that she tolerated messes anyway. The countertops in her kitchen gleamed, and the stainless steel appliances looked as if they belonged in a five-star restaurant. To ensure her home was always neat, she had a maid service visit three times a week. Her salary as a receptionist with the local police department was relatively small, but she felt it was a worthwhile expense.

  Candy walked over to the fireplace. She’d chosen the house precisely because of this feature. She’d always loved the idea of a roaring fire, yet in all the time she’d lived there, she’d never actually used it. Too messy. At barely five feet tall, the top of Candy’s head just reached the mantle, upon which sat a small clock and a snow globe. The clock softly chimed seven times.

  “Seven o’clock already,” she said. “I’d better get moving.”

  Candy rushed upstairs and into her bedroom to finish dressing. She opened her closet and examined her choices. One side was for work, full of attractive but discreet skirts, sensible slacks, and professional blouses. The other side held sexy, low-cut, barely-there outfits that had nothing to do with work. And on the floor, lined from one side to the other, was pair after pair of high-heeled pumps. Being a petite woman, Candy was always trying to look taller, so she never wore anything with less than a three or four inch heel…and they made her calves look fabulous, too.

  She chose a dress from the fun side of her closet and put it on quickly. With its low-cut scooped neckline, it left little to the imagination. But even a high-collared shirt would have done little to hide the overflowing voluptuousness of Candy’s breasts.

  She looked down and admired the view. Her mother had always told her to flaunt what the Lord had been good enough to bless her with. She ran her fingers through her long curly hair and rushed downstairs.

  It wasn’t unusual for cops and coworkers to meet at a local lounge after work on Fridays, but this night they all gathered for a better reason than just wanting to unwind. One of the detectives had left to take a job in Florida, with so little notice that he hadn’t been given a proper going away party. Then the job fell through, he was back in town, and that was all the excuse needed to get together for drinks. It was sort of a welcome back party. But Candy knew something most of the guests did not: Detective Jack Harney may have been back in town, but he wasn’t returning to the police department. As the assistant for Sergeant Pike, Jack’s former boss, she’d have seen the paperwork by now, but nothing had come across her desk.

  Still, Candy was looking forward to seeing Jack. They had dated for a short time, months before his departure, making an effort to be discreet about it. Both feared the teasing they’d receive if word got out that they’d been seeing each other. But Candy had another reason for discretion: Jack hadn’t been the
only cop she’d been seeing…and the other one was definitely the jealous type.

  At seven years her senior, Jack had never been comfortable with their age difference. It kept their relationship on a more casual level, and eventually their dates became fewer and fewer, until Candy heard that he’d started seeing a woman closer to his own age. This news hadn’t bothered her in the least. Jack was quickly replaced.

  It would be nice to see him again, though. She’d always found him extremely good-looking, for an older guy. Maybe they’d even hook up again, for old times’ sake.

  She reached down and adjusted the skinny strap on her high heel. With one last glance at the clock, she ran downstairs and out of the house.

  ***

  Jack set his cell phone down and went to the bathroom sink to freshen up. Mark had just called to remind him again about the party, and to tell him he should get his ass down to the Local Yokel before all the beer and cheese doodles were gone.

  When Jack had first met Mark, he hadn’t thought much of him. It was easy to underestimate the man; his blonde hair and blue eyes made him seem more suited for underwear modeling than police work. However, Jack had grown to respect Mark and knew that if the circumstances called for it, he could be as emotionless as a shark, and just as cunning and shrewd.

  Off in the distance, the rumble of thunder shook the windows in Jack’s apartment. He hurried to finish getting ready and beat the storm to the party.

  ***

  Jack and Curt walked into the club and headed straight for the bar, throwing in their order. They took the only available bar stools and looked around at the crowd. Jack wasn’t surprised that it was already busy. The Local Yokel shared a building with a higher-end restaurant; some of those patrons were waiting in the bar until their tables were called. Everyone else looked to be from the department. If the fear of death didn’t keep the barflies from drinking too much before driving home, the sight of dozens of police officers might do the trick.

  When Jack went to pay, the bartender told him a tab had already been opened. “You didn’t think you’d be buying your own drinks at your own party, did you?” said a familiar voice.

  Jack turned toward the voice and thanked the stars that the man standing in front of him was on the right side of the law. It was Ryan Gleason, the only guy Jack had ever met who could rival Curt Noble in size—thick-necked, ruddy-faced, and built like a tow truck. On the few occasions that they’d worked together, Jack had seen ruthless criminals all but toss their weapons down and beg to be arrested, if only to avoid his sizable wrath.

  “Ryan!” Jack said. “How’s it going? Good to see you.”

  Ryan smiled and heartily patted Jack on the back. “Had to see you for myself,” Ryan said. “Glad you’re back.”

  “You do know I’m not coming back to the department,” Jack told him. “Right?”

  “Oh? That’s too bad. I always thought it’d be cool for you and me to work together sometime.”

  Jack shrugged. “Yeah, it would have been,” he answered. But he was quietly glad that day would never come. Ryan’s temper was well-known, and Jack had always thought it would get him into trouble someday. He didn’t want to be around when it did.

  “So,” said Ryan. “If you’re not coming back to the department, what are you going to do?”

  Jack turned toward Curt. “Ryan, this is my friend, Curt Noble.”

  The two large men eyed each other as they shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Curt,” said Ryan.

  “Likewise,” Curt replied.

  “We’ve opened a private detective agency,” Jack said.

  “Get the hell out!” Ryan laughed. The sound reminded Jack of the thunder that had shaken the windows in his apartment earlier. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really,” said Jack. “We were in the Army together and reconnected a few months back. Thought it would be a good next step for us both. We just finished moving into our new office space a few days ago.”

  “Well, that’s great Jack,” Ryan said. “Congratulations.” He turned to Curt. “I was in the Army too. What was your MOS?”

  Curt’s eyes met Jack’s. Jack jumped in and changed the subject. “I don’t see Nolan around. Is he here?”

  “Couldn’t make it, but I ran into him earlier,” Ryan said. “He says ‘hi.’ He and Spencer are working on about twelve homicides at the moment.”

  “So he’s still partnered with Spencer, huh?”

  “Yep,” said Ryan. “Somehow they complement each other, but don’t ask me how.”

  Two women approached. Ryan placed his arm around the waist of the smaller one.

  “This is my date,” said Ryan. “You remember Candy, don’t you Jack?”

  Jack’s eyes met Candy’s. Oh yeah…he definitely remembered Candy Dashwood. He wasn’t surprised to see her there, since she worked for the police department. But it did surprise him to see her paired up with Ryan Gleason.

  Candy smiled and gently removed Ryan’s arm from around her waist. “I’ll talk to you later Jack,” said Ryan. “Nice meeting you Curt.” He looked at Candy and smiled as he walked away.

  “Hi Candy,” Jack said. “It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Jack.” She turned towards the woman standing to her right. “This is my friend, Diana Macy.”

  Jack turned his gaze towards a pretty, young woman. She was nearly as tall as him, with very short blonde hair. “Nice to meet you,” said Jack. He tilted his head toward Curt. “This is my friend, Curt Noble.”

  “Hello,” Curt said, in a smooth, flirtatious voice, his eyes lingering on Candy.

  “Hello,” answered Candy, smiling.

  Jack noticed Diana rolling her eyes. He wasn’t sure if she was jealous of the attention that Candy received, or if she found Curt’s attempts at flirting laughable.

  He felt himself grow a little tense as his former supervisor Sergeant Christopher Pike walked toward him. “Hello, Jack.”

  Jack smiled and held out his hand. “Hello, sir.”

  Detective Pike was older than Jack, slightly taller and heavier, but solid around the middle, with closely-cropped silver hair. He’d always reminded Jack of an angry rooster.

  The man laughed. “Sir? We don’t work together anymore. Why don’t you call me Chris?”

  “That might take some getting used to,” Jack answered.

  “Understood. So you’re sure we can’t tempt you back to the department?”

  “Sorry, but no.” Jack nodded toward Curt. “This is my friend Curt; we’ve opened a private detective agency together.” Jack noticed that Pike had suddenly seemed distracted. His eyes had wandered away from Jack and toward Candy. “Hmm…sounds interesting.” Jack couldn’t help but wonder at the expression on both faces, as if their encounter with one another was both unexpected and unwelcome.

  Pike looked back at Jack. “Well, good luck to both of you,” he said. Then he quickly walked away.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Before Jack could give what he’d seen any thought, Candy moved closer. She’d turned her back to Curt and Diana and began speaking quietly.

  “It’s been a long time, Jack,” she said, her hand resting on his arm.

  “Yes it has,” he agreed. “At least a year.” Candy inched closer. Jack could feel her breasts brush his arm ever so slightly. “I’d heard you were working on a cruise ship,” said Candy, “and that there had been some murders on board.”

  “Yes, but the bad guys are all in jail now.”

  He was surprised to feel Candy’s hand slip beneath his polo shirt and gently touch his lower back. He looked at her, and she smiled. Jack was tempted; he hadn’t had sex in months, but sex with Candy came with its own set of problems. It was obvious Ryan had a thing for her and he didn’t want to get on his bad side.

  Jack gently removed her hand. Their eyes met; her offer—and his decline of it—were left unspoken.

  Candy leaned in and kissed Jack’s cheek. “It really is nice to see yo
u again, Jack,” she said. “I guess I’ll go mingle.”

  He smiled. “Nice to see you, too.” Jack’s eyes traveled over her figure as she walked away. She was stunning in her red sequined dress.

  Diana had been speaking to Curt, but excused herself as Candy began walking away. She reached for Candy’s arm, pulling her a few feet away from the two men. “Where are you going?” Diana asked. “We just got here and you’re already ditching me?”

  “Not ditching you, friend; setting you free in a room filled with good-looking guys. Jack’s friend is hot. I told you there’d be good looking guys here. Maybe you’ll find a sweet hook-up.”

  Diana hated it when Candy spoke that way.

  “Yeah…like that’s likely.”

  Diana scowled as Candy waved and sauntered off. She didn’t know why she’d thought this night out would be different from the other times they’d gone out together. No sooner would they get to wherever they were going and Candy would take off to “mingle,” code for “find a guy and a dark corner.”

  She looked back toward Curt and Jack. Curt smiled at her. Oh well, Diana thought. It could be worse.

  ***

  Candy looked out through the crowd of people, searching for a familiar face. When she found who she was looking for, she snaked her way through the crowd.

  “Sorry about earlier, Ryan,” she said, coming up beside him. “But you know how I feel about everyone knowing we’re dating.”

  Ryan gazed down at Candy, a tender look in his eyes. He’d tried to keep whatever was going on between them casual, but it wasn’t easy. She was smoking hot and smart. It was a hard to resist combination.

  “That’s all right,” he told her. “I get it.”

  She smiled at him. “I knew you’d understand.”

  “Do you think…maybe…I should come over later?”

  Candy hesitated, unsure how to answer. She didn’t want to encourage this until she’d seen Mark. It was better that neither come to her home than both show up at the same time. She knew she couldn’t keep playing both men like this; sooner or later, she was going to have to stop seeing one of them. Each had qualities that she liked, qualities that the other didn’t have: While Mark was unpredictable and fun, Ryan made her feel protected and safe. Mark was a twirl in a light summer shower, and Ryan was the huge oak tree she could run to in a storm…or maybe he was the lightning. Both were sexy as hell and fantastic in bed. It was the one thing they had in common.