Jazzy Girl

by C.L. Wells

  As long as she’d lived in the neighborhood, she’d purposely stayed distant. First, having an automatic garage door permitted her to drive in and out of her garage. The tinted windows on her car limited the glimpses to which neighbors would otherwise be privy. Until today, anytime she’d spent outside while at home had been within the confines of her privacy fence. Her neighbor to the west was an elderly woman she rarely saw. Canden’s brother and his family lived on the other side of her house. She heard them in the backyard often enough but made it a point to not be out there at the same time as them too often.

  A master of the art of moving in stealth mode, Sherice could easily move around like a ghost.

  Sherice had the private life down to a science. It was a lonely one but the neighbors in her suburban neighborhood pretty much kept to themselves, too, and she’d always appreciated that fact. Laying low had been easy here.

  Today’s ordeal had thrown her. It would have been nice to have someone to call to complain to besides her contact for witness protection. If she called her, there was a possibility she’d be moved again. At the last location, she’d stopped in a bookstore not knowing a big author event would begin thirty minutes later. Caught up in the crowd when the media arrived, her image made the news.

  Sherice sighed. She liked it here and didn’t want to risk it over some goofy brother of a neighbor.

  Sherice placed one hand on either side of the tub and used her foot to flip the drain switch before hoisting herself up. She chose her most comfy pair of pajamas and checked the clock. Nearly one a.m.

  Still not tired.

  She turned her bedside lamp on and all other lights off before she crawled into bed. Jazz planted herself by the door. Sherice reached under her pillow for the Sci-Fi novel she’d been engrossed in for the last two nights. Flipping to the dog-eared page, she began to read.

  Nearly two hours later, she closed the book and sighed. Tomorrow, or today rather, would require a trip to the bookstore for a new book. After she made sure there were no author events. Eyelids heavy, she reached over and turned the lamp off then rolled to her side.

  A growl erupted from Jazz, and Sherice sat straight up, instantly awake and immediately hit the single button on the front of her phone - 3:37 a.m. She hadn’t even been asleep for an hour. Jazz was on her feet and poised for an attack. Sherice could see the spiked raised fur on her neck, bared fangs and retracted lips. A chill ran down her spine. Her baby girl looked like a hellhound right now. An image that would be burned into her memory.

  For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Sherice lunged for the gun on her bedside table. Without making a sound, she slid her legs from under her blanket down to the floor and stood.

  Something thudded against the side of her house right under her window. Sherice spun pointing her gun toward the area of the sound trying to keep her own labored breathing under control. Jazz turned too. The dog’s front legs were spread wide and her head was lowered.

  Another thud sounded further down the house to the west. Jazz’s lips couldn’t get any further back as another menacing snarl rumbled from her.

  “Shhh. Calm, girl.” Her own hands shook.

  An angry voice from outside roared. “I’m calling the cops!” Laughter followed. Sherice detected at least three individuals from the laughter.

  Moving the curtain just enough to look outside, she made out three silhouettes on her front lawn and a truck lifted high above the pavement idling with a predatory growl a little way down the street.

  Sirens sounded in the distance. Someone else had already called the police. All three figures ran for the truck. One jumped into the passenger side while the other two pulled themselves over the side and dove into the bed of the truck as it peeled off. The rumble of the engine echoed through the neighborhood.

  Was there a fourth person? Or did the person who got in the passenger side drive?

  A heavy fist pounded on her front door and Sherice nearly fumbled her gun. Anger settled over as she headed down the hall to the front door. She just wanted to be left alone! Was that too much to ask?

  Her doorbell chimed continually, being held down by someone. Sherice wanted to scream, ‘I’m coming!’ but knew better. On her tiptoes, she looked out the peephole, but no one was there. Flashing lights glared her view. The police.

  Good. Not that she wanted to talk to them but at least she didn’t have to worry about being attacked.

  Sherice stepped back and undid two chains and two sliding bolts before twisting the deadbolt lock and opening the door. Jazz crowded in from behind to get a look out.

  “It’s okay, girl.”

  A shadow moved over from the left of her porch filling her screen door, which was still locked. Sherice jumped back and raised the gun with her finger on the trigger.

  “Whoa! Don’t shoot!” Canden threw his hands up.

  “What are you doing?” Sherice demanded.

  “Just checking out the damage. That’s all.” Canden stepped back with his hands still raised.

  A police officer coming down the sidewalk saw Canden with his hands up and drew his weapon.

  “Oh my goodness!” Canden said. “I’m the one who called you all.”

  The policeman looked toward the door. “Whoever is inside, come out on the porch with your hands up!”

  Sherice lowered her weapon and glared at Canden.

  “What did I do?” Canden asked her.

  “Sir!” The police officer bellowed. “I want you down on your knees! Keep your hands in the air!”

  Sherice slid the safety on and laid the gun on the top of her sofa before opening the screen door.

  “Stay,” she told Jazz as she put her hands up and walked outside.

  “Is anyone else in there?” the officer asked.

  “Just my dog.” She hated admitting this in front of Canden. Not that he hadn’t figured out she lived there alone but she shouldn’t have to confirm it.

  “Where’s your weapon?”

  “On my couch. It’s registered.”

  “Step away from the door with your hands up please.”

  Sherice did as she asked knowing the officer needed to ensure he wasn’t in danger.

  “On your knees, please.” The officer seemed a fraction more relaxed but still held his gun on them. Jazz half growled, half whimpered.

  Sherice knew if she didn’t say something, Jazz would jump up and open the screen door.

  “Stay, Jazz.” Sherice looked over at Canden as she lowered herself to her knees. “Would you mind telling me what you’re doing on my property?”

  Canden guffawed.

  “Seriously?”

  “Quite.”

  “I chased off the punks who were pummeling your house.”

  “Are you sure they weren’t friends of yours?”

  Canden flinched.

  “You’re nuts. You know that.”

  Sherice glared at him. This was the first time she’d seen his entire face at once. All of him for that matter. He was approximately five feet eight, several inches taller than herself, with a slender, muscular build. His short brown hair was longer at the top, allowing a natural curl that lent it a mussed look. She noted the small scar under his right eye.

  Canden’s blue T-shirt looked worn. The faded swoosh on the front barely recognizable. Obviously, he’d been in a rush to get outside since he was barefoot. His oversized grey striped pajama pants had dirt and grass stains on the hems.

  “Should I turn around so you can study the rest of me now? Canden asked sarcastically. Sherice didn’t respond.

  “What are your names?” the officer asked.

  “Canden Shaw.”

  “Asha Watson.” Because Sherice kept herself so isolated, she’d never identified with the name, Asha, the way she should have. The way the witness protection program had assured her she would. If someone called the name out, her head would snap up, but she still didn’t think of herself as Asha. She doubted she ever would.

&nb
sp; Another car arrived and the officer lowered his weapon when the other officer exited his vehicle. The newer officer took Canden’s report while the first, Officer Landrum, took Sherice’s. Stern and unnerving, she wished the other cop would have interviewed her.

  Because she had a gun, the officer said he’d have to run a full check on Sherice and her weapon. With a knotted stomach through the excruciating wait, all she wanted to do was lock herself inside her house. This would be the first time this identity would be tested. She hoped her contact had covered all the bases.

  “All right, Ms. Watson.” The officer handed Sherice the license he’d requested. Jazz still stood at the door watching. Sherice exhaled silently. “I need to find out if Mr. Shaw is pressing charges. Please wait here.”

  “Pressing charges for what?” Sherice threw her hands in the air. She knew the answer but couldn’t believe they were taking it this far.

  “Aggravated assault. If he feels like his life was in danger.”

  “But he was on my porch right after I saw those three people on my lawn. I’m the one who felt my life was in danger.” Landrum shrugged and walked away. His lack of concern couldn’t be more evident.

  Sherice sat down on her top step and propped her elbows on her knees. Resting her chin on her hands, her mind raced until a rubber ducky sound got her attention.

  “Come, Jazz.” Jazz stood on her hind legs and opened the screen door with her first push of the paw. Running straight to Sherice, Jazz inserted her big head in the space under Sherice’s arms forcing her elbows off her knees. Jazz licked her face and she couldn’t resist smiling. “Sit, girl. Sit.”

  Jazz did and Sherice put one arm around her big girl as she waited for the officer who now came back up the walk.

  “We’re done here, Ms. Watson.” Sherice stood as the officer approached. “Mr. Shaw is not pressing charges.”

  “Good. He shouldn’t.”

  “If we get any leads on the people who egged your house, we’ll follow up with you. Egg isn’t good for your siding and since they injected it with red dye, you’ll want to clean that up right away.”

  “I’m sure an eraser sponge will take care of it,” Sherice said.

  “Ah. Good to know,” the officer said. “For some reason, I get the feeling more of these calls will be coming in. Have a good night, well, morning.” The officer held up a hand and retreated to his vehicle.

  “You too,” Sherice said to his back.

  “Let’s go in, girl.” Sherice grabbed the railing and used it for leverage to pull herself up. The last twenty-four hours had her feeling more like ninety-eight than twenty-eight.

  “I could really use some coffee,” Canden called out just as she opened her screen door.

  “I’m sure your brother has a coffee pot.”

  “C’mon, Asha. You kind of owe me.”

  “Owe you? For what? Scaring me out of my mind? Banging on my door and then moving to where I couldn’t see you? Having to wait while the police ran me through their system and checked the registration on my gun?”

  “How about scaring those punks off your property before they stained your siding with more of those red eggs?”

  “C’mon. One cup of coffee. There’s a Denny’s not far from here. You can drive us.” Canden flashed a big smile as if that last bit would seal the deal.

  Sherice sighed. Loneliness weakened her resolve. Or maybe it was because Canden wasn’t so bad after all. Plus, he was kind of cute. He had dimples. She had a thing for dimples. Being exhausted definitely skewed her ability to make sound decisions. It would be nice to talk to another human for longer than a few minutes, though. Plus, the cops just ran him and didn’t find anything. And he had been the one to call them. People with things to hide didn’t usually get cops involved.

  “I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”

  “Man!” Canden said. “You’re a tough one.”

  Sherice raised a brow.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take it. I’ll see you there.”

  Sherice let Jazz go in first. As she locked her front door, her cell phone rang.”

  “Ugh.” She knew who it was before she even looked at the caller I.D.

  “Hi, Terry. You are fast!”

  “I got an alert that said your I.D. was run. Everything okay?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Everything is fine. My house was egged and the neighbor got involved.”

  “You brandished your weapon?”

  “Only because my idiot neighbor was on my porch and I didn’t know. All I knew at the time was that there were at least three people on my property. I didn’t fire it.”

  “I know. Don’t point the thing unless you’re planning on using it.”

  Sherice sighed. Nothing good would come out of arguing with Terry.

  “You’re not a cop anymore. You don’t have that privilege.”

  “I know, Terry. I know.”

  “The good news is that your I.D. passed with flying colors. I’ll call you for the check in next week as planned. Get some sleep.”

  “You too.”

  Chapter 3

  Twenty minutes later, Sherice pulled into a parking space at Denny’s. As she stepped out of her car, she heard a whistle.

  “You look great!”

  “You’re easy to impress,” she said dryly. Jeans and a sweater were hardly whistle-worthy.

  “And you,” Canden exaggerated the word, “are the most difficult person in the entire world to impress.”

  “You haven’t exactly done anything impressive,” Sherice said.

  “Ouch!”

  His attempt to appear “hurt” made her laugh.

  Canden clutched his shirt over his heart and threw himself against her car.

  “What are you doing?” Inwardly squirming at his display, she glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Canden obviously didn’t understand the concept of low-key.

  “You smiled.” Canden wheezed. “I might die of shock.”

  Enjoy someone’s company for once. Determined to do just that, she lowered her mental guard a fraction.

  “I’m sure you’ll survive.” Sherice rolled her eyes and smiled. “I really do need that coffee.”

  “Me too.” Canden quickly straightened and offered her his arm.

  “Uh, no. And please don’t embarrass me in here.”

  “You are way too serious. I’m gonna need to help you lighten up.” He lurched ahead so he could open the door for her.

  “You are too much.” Sherice shook her head and laughed. “But thank you.”

  This man is an overgrown child.

  Canden asked for a booth and the waitress sat them in the corner.

  “Two cups of coffee please.”

  “All right. Give me just a few,” the waitress said. “The coffee’s a bit old and I’m going to brew up some fresh.”

  “Perfect,” Sherice said.

  “We might as well get breakfast too,” Canden said after the waitress walked away. He glanced at his phone. “It’s nearly five-thirty.”

  “Might as well. So, what’s your story, Mr. Canden? You living with your brother and his family now?” Up close, Sherice couldn’t help but notice Canden’s stunning green eyes. With charged irregular spindles of the amber and brown spiraled around the iris, they incited the same awe as when she’d seen various photos of galaxies in space.

  “For a short time.” His smiled disappeared and took his dimples with it. “He and Shel are getting a divorce.”

  “They were just out back barbecuing last week.” Sherice sat back. She couldn’t wrap her head around how relationships dissolved the way they did. She’d always hated to see couples break up, even if she didn’t know them. “Now that I think about it, that’s the last time I saw them. I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “Thanks. They’re trying hard to make this as easy as possible for Taya. In fact, they’re at Disneyland this whole week. They’re going to break the news to her there and try to explain the whole, ‘we both still
love you and you haven’t done anything wrong’ stuff.” Canden rolled his eyes. “When she gets back, she’ll have fun Uncle Canden to distract her.”

  “It’s hard on you, too.”

  “Yeah, I love my sister-in-law and my niece. She should have never married my brother. He’s a great dad but a horrible husband.”

  “Wow.”

  There’s always something to be said for honesty.

  “Gave me a good reason to take some time off work and fly out. I haven’t done that in the last two years so I was overdue anyway. They’ve always made the trip to come see me. Kind of ridiculous now that I think about it.”

  Sherice gave a nonjudgmental shrug. “What kind of work?”

  “I own my own construction company.”

  “You took off during a really busy time then.”

  “I did.” Canden sighed. “I feel kind of guilty about it but I have competent help. They’re constantly telling me I should take a break. I haven’t taken any time off since my dad died five years ago.”

  “Ready to order?” The waitress sat two cups of coffee in front of them and a handful of creamers.

  “Oh. I haven’t even looked yet,” Sherice said.

  “I haven’t either. Sorry. I can be ready in two.”

  “No problem at all.” The waitress smiled a little too sweetly. Sherice saw his dimples and scowled inwardly. She had no interest in claiming Canden, but the waitress didn’t know that. Home girl needs to back off. “I’ll be back in just a bit.”

  “Yeah, so anyway, I’ll be here for a while longer before I head back.”

  “That’s good of you.”

  “It’s my fam.” He shrugged. “What about you? What’s your story?”

  Sherice hated this part but didn’t allow herself to sigh.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with the easy stuff. Where you from?

  Atlanta.

  “Alliance, Ohio.”

  “When did you move to Kansas?”

  “About eighteen months ago.” That was the truth.

  “Why?”

  Because I didn’t get to choose where I was placed.