Dirty

by Debra Webb

“Alita is waiting in your office.” Hobbs nodded in that direction.

  “Thank you.” I flashed my audience another polite smile and escaped to my private space, quickly closing the door behind me.

  “Morning, Miss Jackie.” Alita turned in her seat to beam a happy face my way.

  Thank God Hobbs had put her in here first.

  “Hey, Alita.” I looked around. “Where’s Emilio.”

  “We make private meeting today, no?”

  I nodded. “Right. Of course.” I had the information on Emilio’s father. She likely feared the worst and didn’t want her son to hear it. She needn’t worry though.

  After tossing my purse aside I moved around behind my desk and retrieved an envelope from the middle drawer. “This contains the current address and other specifics about Emilio’s father.”

  Alita stared at the envelope for a long while before taking it from me.

  “He’s actually in Texas,” I reassured. “He’s a foreman on a cattle ranch. Has an excellent reputation. And...” I couldn’t help feeling particularly glad about his part. “He never married. He’s still single.”

  Tears welled in Alita’s eyes. “You think is okay to see him?”

  I nodded. “I think it’s very okay.” I pointed to the envelope. “In fact, there are two bus tickets in there for whenever you decide you want to go for it. There’s also a gift certificate for three nights’ stay at a Holiday Inn in the town near the ranch where he works. Go, Alita,” I urged, “tell him you still love him and that he has a son.” I thought about my mother’s words. “A man whose been handled right always comes back.” Knowing Alita she had done exactly that.

  She pressed the envelope to her chest and swiped her eyes. “You too much, Miss Jackie.”

  I’d heard that before but not exactly in the way Alita meant it. Who needed a big screen TV anyway? Definitely not me, not when selling it could bring Alita this kind of happiness. “I’m glad to help.”

  Alita hurried around my desk and hugged me. “By the way,” I remembered to tell her, “I also found out that he tried to find you about a year ago but the PI he hired was an idiot.”

  Alita smiled at me. “I so glad you not an idiot, Miss Jackie.”

  This was the part of my job I liked best.

  When Alita was on her way, I summoned Hobbs into my office. “Close the door.”

  As he did the phone rang. I snatched up the receiver, a foolish part of me hoping it would be Dawson. “Mercer.”

  “Mrs. C?”

  Max. “Hey, Max, what’s up?” I shrugged when Hobbs looked at me questioningly. This call was not about work and it was also none of my nosy assistant’s business.

  “Just wanted to let you know that little project we’ve been working on has launched. Check it out. Anytime now you’ll hear Nance screaming all the way from the station house.”

  “Thanks, Max.” I dropped the phone into its cradle and hurried to the computer on my credenza.

  “What was that about?” Hobbs rushed up next to me.

  I quickly tapped the necessary keys to go to the HPD website, then the unofficial Rob-Ho page. I burst into laughter.

  Hobbs pressed a hand to his chest. “What is that?”

  It was Nance. His image, which had been transposed so that he wore trashy women’s underwear and was doing a nasty little dance across the screen.

  “Never piss off a woman who once baked chocolate chip cookies for the next Bill Gates,” I muttered.

  I closed the browser and sighed. I straightened and beamed a satisfied grin at my assistant, then it dropped into a ground-dragging frown when I remembered the three men waiting just outside my office.

  Hobbs cleared his throat. “You want a run down on the applicants?”

  God, the guy was scary.

  “That would be nice.”

  I settled into my chair and he moved around to the front of my desk and leaned against one of the chairs there. When he didn’t take a seat I nodded for him to start.

  “Hewitt, sixty-six, retired security guard who decided he needs a hobby,” Hobbs said, ticking off the pertinent info on applicant number one.

  I frowned. “Is he the one with the walker?”

  My assistant nodded.

  I somehow kept a small portion of my sense of humor about me. “Next?”

  “Moffett, forty, a college student who decided he needs a job.”

  “College student?” Oh my. “The guy wearing the grim reaper shirt?” I wanted to be sure who we were talking about here.

  Hobbs raised a skeptical eyebrow. “He turned forty and decided it was probably time to get a job. His birthday was a week ago and he’s been wearing that same t-shirt ever since.”

  I managed to conceal the shudder that went along with hearing that information.

  “Billingsly, fifty-nine...” Hobbs coughed, then cleared his throat. “He just made parole. He was serving five to ten on a manslaughter charge, but he swears he didn’t do it.”

  Jesus, what a line up.

  Ever the professional, Hobbs crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin in defiance of what I felt certain he was thinking himself. “Who do you want to see first? I’d recommend Moffett. We need to get him out of here as soon as possible before the Health Department comes and shuts us down.”

  “Good idea. Send him in.”

  Famous last words. Two hours later I’d completed the three interviews. I wasn’t sure whether to scream or to cry. Those guys were about as far from what I was looking for as walked on two legs.

  And I’d thought Dawson was way off base.

  Stop it, I ordered.

  I pushed thoughts of him aside. I had to keep searching. There had to be a candidate out there somewhere interested in working with me. Otherwise my uncle was never going to get back to playing ladies’ man.

  Speak of the devil.

  “I thought I’d let you know that I took care of the Pearson case.”

  I pushed aside my troubling thoughts and looked up at Hank. It was a pleasure to see him. I felt closer to him than ever now that I knew the truth about the past.

  “Great.” The Pearson case was another of those he’s-cheating-on-me surveillance assignments. It wasn’t my favorite kind of job since you always knew how it would end, but the journey could be entertaining and it paid the bills.

  “I’m headed out for an early lunch, want to join me?”

  I shook my head. “That’s okay. I’m really behind this morning.” Two whole hours’ worth. “Rain check?”

  He winked. “You betcha.”

  I watched him pause at Hobbs’ desk before leaving and I thanked God for his continued support. We’d had another long talk a few days ago and cleared the air on the subject of my father. I felt much better about the past as well as the future. Just knowing that my father had never actually doubted me was a tremendous confidence booster. And it was good to confirm that the man I’d always known was a knight in shining armor really was. Hank was the best. A genuine good guy.

  Hobbs poked his head into my office. “I’m meeting Ben and Jerry at the Pasta Bistro, would you like me to bring you something back?”

  “Nah...that’s okay. I’ll get something later.”

  He hesitated and I knew what he was thinking.

  “I’m not worried. Someone amazing will come along.”

  He nodded. “You read my mind.”

  I laughed. Bout time it started working both ways. “Get out of here.”

  With Hobbs gone, I opened my middle desk drawer and pulled out the photo of Warren Rayburn.

  Though they shared the same mother, his younger brother didn’t look a thing like him. I rubbed my thumb across the handsome face pictured there. “Thanks for a night I’ll never forget,” I murmured. “And for saving my life.”

  I sighed and put the picture away.

  A mound of paperwork had amassed on my desk. If I didn’t get it done Hobbs had threatened to start a bonfire.

  No point puttin
g it off any longer. With cases came the requirement for final reports.

  “You look busy.”

  At first I was afraid to look up. Afraid I’d imagined...

  Then I shook it off. Being afraid wasn’t my style. I lifted my gaze to the man standing in my doorway.

  Dawson.

  I tried to stop the smile that spread across my face but there was simply no slowing it.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He took a step into my domain. “That’s no way to greet a guy who’s traveled all this way to see you, now is it?”

  As was the norm in his presence my gaze took in every detail. The scuffed boots, the well-worn jeans, the loose button-down shirt with the skin-tight tee beneath and then that face. The kind that you never tired of looking at, like a perfectly cut suit that never went out of style. His lean, chiseled features made my heart go pitty-pat. And then there were those lips...and the eyes.

  I took a deep breath for fortification and maybe to kick-start my heart back into a normal rhythm. “You look great.”

  He took one slow, deliberate step after the other until he’d reached my desk. “So do you.”

  Man, was I glad I’d decided to wear this body-skimming dress and my strappiest stiletto sandals today. I knew I looked good and that went a long way in keeping me on even ground with this guy. Oh, yes, I admit it right now, he was that intimidating. He looked that good. Yanked my confidence right out from under me.

  The telephone rang and I answered it without breaking the eye contact. “Mercer.”

  “Mercer! I’m going to—”

  I hung up. Nothing important. Just Nance ranting.

  Back to my tour of Dawson’s assets. Combined with those bedroom eyes was that just rolled out of bed hair and the beard-shadowed jaw I had admired on at least one other occasion. Man, George Michael had known what he was doing when he made that look famous. Too bad he’d let himself go since.

  I stood, matched Dawson’s stance. Evened the playing field a little further.

  “What brings you back to Houston?” Might as well cut to the chase.

  He glanced around the office then fixed that I-want-to-have-sex-with-you gaze on mine. “I heard you were still looking for an investigator.” He shrugged. “And it seems I’m out of a job.”

  He’d seen the want ad. Shit.

  “You got what you came for,” I said frankly. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  The beginnings of a smile quirked one corner of his mouth. “What? And give up this exciting work?” He chuckled, a sexy, throaty sound that made me shiver with the memory of being buried alive with him. “Not a chance.”

  I wet my lips and forced my mind to consider the situation rationally. In light of his work in the field there was no question he was a keeper—professionally speaking. My history with his brother did give us a kind of connection...almost like family. Yeah right. I caught a glimpse of the other three applicants’ resumes from the corner of my eye. He certainly rose head and shoulders above the competition.

  “You’re definitely qualified,” I commented.

  “Definitely,” he echoed.

  “Hobbs seems to think that your charm will be a significant asset.”

  “Significant.” He nodded.

  There it was. That cocky attitude that made me crazy.

  “But there is one thing, Dawson.”

  He leaned closer...or maybe it was my imagination.

  “You have to remember who’s the boss.”

  “I can absolutely guarantee you that I won’t forget that piece of information.”

  I wasn’t sure exactly how he meant that but I kept going as if I knew precisely his intentions. “And, assuming you’re certain you want the job, you would still be on probation. One wrong move and you’re out.”

  “No need to worry about that. I do want the job.” He flattened his palms on my desk and leaned closer still. “And I only make one kind of move.”

  Every sensory receptor in my being was poised in anticipation of his next words.

  “The right one.”

  That sexy rasp was nearly enough all by itself to send me over the edge.

  But I refused to allow that to happen. I had to let him know here and now that I was in charge. I wasn’t just the boss, I was in control.

  For that reason I mimicked his pose. Leaned so close to him that a bee couldn’t have buzzed between us without getting its wings trapped.

  “Just one last thing,” I said in my sultriest voice. Two could play this game.

  “What’s that?” he murmured, amping up the sex appeal.

  I held my breath...couldn’t bear the added stimulus of his scent. “You know how I am about being open and honest.” I watched him watch my mouth move and the acrobatics in my chest skipped to advanced level. Dammit.

  “Yeah.” He licked those sculpted lips.

  I swallowed tightly. “I need to know how you brought in Big Hoss.” In spite of the monumental tension I smiled. Couldn’t help myself. The electricity crackling between us was mind-boggling...maybe this was my brain’s way of coping.

  “I’ll tell you how I collared Big Hoss on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” Anticipation seared through my veins.

  “You tell me whether or not you fucked Willis to get that information on Brooks.”

  My gaze tangled with his and the intensity there stole my breath all over again.

  I bolted away from him. “Fuck you, Dawson.”

  He took his time drawing to his full height, that cocky lopsided grin making my pulse skitter and royally pissing me off. “Anytime, any place.”

  “Get out,” I warned. The impulse to grab the nearest heavy object and hurl it at him was nearly overwhelming.

  He backed up a couple of steps, still grinning. When he got to the door he hitched a thumb toward the vacant office across the hall. “That still mine?”

  I knew if I said yes that the Mercer Agency and I, for that matter, would be changed forever. I would always have to be on my toes to stay out of dangerous territory with Dawson. Every moment of every day would be a test of my self-discipline. Of my control.

  So I had to ask myself, was he really worth it?

  Damn straight.

  “Do you see another empty office?” I retorted flippantly.

  With one last lingering look he sauntered over to his side of the hallway.

  I had to be out of my mind.

  I had a record of trouble with men a mile long.

  Why would I set myself up like this?

  And then I remembered a handy piece of my mother’s advice that always gave me hope. Practice makes perfect.

  DEBRA WEBB, born in Alabama, wrote her first story at age nine and her first romance at thirteen. It wasn’t until she spent three years working for the military behind the Iron Curtain—and a five-year stint with NASA—that she realized her true calling. A collision course between suspense and romance was set. Since then she has penned nearly 100 novels. Visit her at www.debrawebb.com .

  Recent Books by Debra Webb:

  ANYWHERE SHE RUNS, St. Martins Press

  EVERYWHERE SHE TURNS, St. Martins Press

  FIND ME, St. Martins Press

  NAMELESS, St. Martins Press

  TRACELESS, St. Martins Press

  MISSING(The Colby Agency), Harlequin Intrigue

  VOWS OF SILENCE, Harlequin Books

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