by Taylor Lee
Ignoring the chipped tile and disgusting mildewed grout circling the battered tub, she turned the water on full force. Knowing in crap joints like this that the hot water wouldn’t last long, she damn well intended to get every drop. Five minutes later, she began to relax. The scorching water was still beating a skin reddening pattern on her back and she’d rinsed her hair three times. Fortunately, she’d been smart enough to pack the soaps and lotions and oils her body craved. For a few precious moments, she ignored the ragged background and reveled in the smell of lavender, citrus, and lemon grass.
But the steaming water didn’t drown out her memories of the last two days. Master Wan had begged her to wait, to let the police do their jobs. She didn’t deign to answer him. Leaving the devastated old people without a backward glance, she’d hit the road driving from San Francisco to Yuma in less than ten hours.
She’d been amazed at how easily that she had commandeered the investigative team supposedly working on Anthony’s case. She’d left Chief Burton a message the night before telling him that she wanted to meet with the team charged with finding her brother’s killer. Damned if they didn’t all show up. Of course, the red suit helped. She’d used it before and it always worked. God, men were so predictable. But once they’d finished ogling her breasts and her butt and realized that she was a hard ass, not a cream puff, they began to take her seriously.
She had to admit, the real turning point was when Jake--she corrected herself--when Special Agent Gardner, showed up. That was when the chief began to come around. She’d know tomorrow when she went to get her materials if he was going to cooperate. She grimaced. It was a good thing she didn’t care if the police were forthcoming or not. As before, she’d depend on one person and one person only--herself. Anything else was an unexpected bonus.
No question, she thought with a disdainful sniff, she could contain the police and brow beat them with guilt. More dangerous to her mission was the blue eyed, dark haired hunk. And, God, he was a hunk. He had to be 6’ 4”. In her three inch high heels, she stood five nine and he’d towered over her. Hovered would be a better description. She tried to squash the memory of him standing next to her, his kind eyes, gentle solicitous touch when she stumbled. And, damn, a grandmother called Winnie Mae. She shook her head with a grin, but quickly sobered. She knew the system better than anyone. The nice ones always disappointed, pulled out the rug, disappeared. At least with the scum, you knew where you stood. You knew you needed to protect yourself, never let your guard down.
Most difficult was the way Agent Gardner reminded her of Anthony. She closed her eyes tight, remembering big beautiful protective Anthony. She didn’t want another big beautiful protective man. She wanted Anthony. But he was dead. If she couldn’t have him, she would avenge him. She would find his killer and take him down as brutally as he took down Anthony.
~~~
An hour later, Lexie gazed at her reflection in the mirror with a satisfied smile. She turned and looked over her shoulder at her butt. The short swingy skirt flared just enough when she whirled to give an observer a teasing glimpse of her bare thighs. Her legs always looked good. Damn, they should. A minimum of twenty five hours a week of hard core training ought to do something. Of course, her knee high patent leather three inch heeled boots didn’t hurt either. The skin tight abbreviated tank top hugged her full breasts. She threaded the gold and silver dragon into her belly button ring and yanked the waistband of her skirt down over her hips. She’d learned years ago the power of her “assets” and never hesitated to use them to her advantage. But God help the man who misunderstood the rules of the game. That was when ten years of mixed martial arts training proved its power. Her motto: Assholes beware.
Smearing on one more coat of bright red gloss over her full lips, she shook out her long blond curls. They reached the middle of her back and swayed when she walked. The whole damn Yuma police force had been unable to turn up any clues. She gave herself a saucy wink. Maybe they didn’t have the right uniform.
Pulling the creaky motel door shut behind her, she scoffed at the laughable lock and traipsed down three flights of cement stairs. The moon was a golden crescent in the stark sky. That was one good thing about being away from her home refuge. Without a million city lights, every star in the sky gleamed bright, nothing competed with its sparkling light. Fingering the blade in the top of her boot and the one at her back, she hopped in her souped up Camaro and headed out to the streets to find Anthony’s killer.
Chapter 4
The meeting at Chief Burton’s office went better than she expected. At least his secretary had been cordial when she handed her a large sheaf of papers without protest.
“My name is Delores, honey. But most people call me Del,” the matronly looking woman behind the desk said with a kind smile. “You must be Anthony’s sister. Sheesh, you look enough like him to be his twin.” She frowned, the wrinkles around her eyes that years of smoking had planted, deepened.
“I sure hope you know, honey, how bad we all feel about your brother. He was the kindest man I ever met. Charmed us all. That smile. He was…”
Lexie broke in. “Thank you, Delores. I mean Del. Yes, I know how my brother affected people. Is Chief Burton in his office?”
Delores’s face reddened and for a split second, Lexie was embarrassed. There was no need for her to be rude to this woman. She was being kind. But she didn’t want to talk about Anthony with anyone. The only reason she was here was to get the materials she’d asked for.
“Good morning, Miss Beloi.”
Lexie turned at Chief Burton’s greeting. The corpulent man stood in the doorway. His face was stern, unsmiling. He stepped aside to allow her to enter.
Lexie shook her head. Without retuning his greeting, she nodded at the papers Delores had handed her.
“I presume all the materials I asked for are in this folder?”
The chief looked surprised at her curt response.
“As much as I am permitted to give you.” He hesitated for a moment then added, “The autopsy report will be available tomorrow. Jake, Special Agent Gardner, has it, but said you could get it from him tomorrow.”
Lexie frowned. “Is there somewhere I can sit in private to review these materials? I want to see what is here and what is missing.”
The chief flushed. He nodded to Delores.
“Please show Miss Beloi to Lt. Angeles’ office. She is out today.”
He turned on his heel and went back in his office, closing the door behind him.
An hour later, Lexie came out to the waiting room. Delores looked up with a questioning smile. Apparently not put off by Lexie’s earlier rudeness, she asked, “Did you find everything you needed, honey?”
Lexie pressed her lips together, trying to hide her annoyance.
“No, I did not.”
She handed Delores a sheet of paper with a list of eleven missing items.
Delores glanced at the list. Dismay crossed her face. “Golly, honey, the chief had to go to a meeting, or I’m sure he would give you these things you need.”
Not believing that for a moment, Lexie responded crisply, “I see. Please tell Chief Burton that I will be back tomorrow to get these items when I come to pick up the autopsy report.”
Discomfited at her rudeness to the woman who was clearly trying to be helpful, she turned at the doorway.
“Uh, thank you, Delores. I…I appreciate your help.” She added with a soft smile. “And yes, I agree, my brother was a charming man.”
~~~
Lexie had already decided that she would not seek out Special Agent Gardner. It was bad enough she would have to come back tomorrow to get the autopsy report. She gave a derisive snort. So much for making sure the chief gave her everything that she had asked for. He’d even shanghaied one of the critical documents for himself.
She was almost to her car when she heard him call out to her.
“Alexis, wait.”
Her hand was on the door handle and she
fumbled with her keys. If she could get away without speaking to him, she would. But it was too late.
She turned to see him striding toward her across the parking lot. Tall, purposeful, and intent. Intent on stopping her
“Hey, Alexis, wait a minute.”
He was smiling a big generous smile that didn’t hide the concern darkening those astonishing blue eyes. When he reached the car, he stuck out his hand. When she refused it with a quick shake of her head, his smile turned to a small frown. He looked her over and apparently didn’t miss her resistance. When he spoke his voice was firm.
“Did I misunderstand? I thought you were going to stop by this morning after you met with the chief?”
Lexie tossed her head. “No. I …I said I would if I had time…if my schedule worked out.”
His gaze was like a laser slicing through her dissembling.
“And your ‘schedule’ didn’t allow you to fit me in for twenty minutes?”
Lexie bit her lip, then shook her head and lifted her chin, a defiant gesture. “I didn’t want to talk to you – or anyone, and I still don’t.” She turned and put the key in the door wanting to leave, to go as fast as she could. She needed to get back to her room, to read through the reports, mostly to get away from this unsettling man. Her fingers were shaking and to her horror she dropped the keys.
Mortified by her clumsiness, she bent to pick up the keys that rolled under the car. She grabbed for them, but he was quicker. He reached under the car with one long arm and caught her with his other hand when she stumbled back. When they stood up, he was inches away from her. She tried to move back, to twist away from him, but he was too big.
Still holding her elbow with one hand, he reached down and tipped her chin up to meet his gaze.
“Alexis, relax. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. If you’re not up for talking now, we can do that later, when you are.”
She wanted to tell him that she would never be ready to talk to him. But the words stuck in her throat. When he handed her the keys, she gave a grateful sigh and quickly unlocked the door.
He stepped back, but as she moved forward to get in her car, he gave a low whistle.
Reaching around her, he stroked the custom leather seat. He gave her an appreciative glance then stepped closer to run his hand over the solid wood dashboard. He peered inside, his large body filling the doorway.
When he stood up and turned to face her, a wide grin split his face.
“Damn, girl, this is one tricked up ride. Did you buy it like this? Or, don’t tell me you did this? Tell me you did and I’m a goner. I’m an admirer for life. Hell, more than that, I think I’m in love.”
Lexie stifled a laugh. He seemed genuinely bowled over. If he was putting her on, he had found her soft spot. She loved this car. She’d bought it with the money she earned her first year teaching in the dojo. It was barely drivable when she bought it. It cost almost as much to restore as it cost to buy. She’d spent months outfitting it, pouring over catalogues and searching the internet for genuine parts.
“First generation?” Jake asked, his eyes gleaming.
When she nodded, he persisted, “1967 or ’68?”
He shook his head with a low admiring whistle when she responded. “1968.”
She watched him circle the Camaro, touching the door handles then reached down to run his hands over the rims. He looked up at her with a question, “Alloy?”
When she nodded yes, he gave a gleeful shout.
He rounded the car and ended up in front of her, his bright blue eyes twinkling.
“That does it. Now you’re having dinner with me for sure. Hell, I’m gonna bring a tape recorder. I want to know how a beautiful woman like you decided to buy a “68 Camaro and restore it like this.”
She stiffened, immediately her guard rose. “I…I didn’t say I would have dinner with you.”
He grinned. “You didn’t? Hmm, something must be wrong with my hearing. I could have sworn you agreed to let me take you to the finest, most authentic Mexican restaurant this side of the border. In fact, I’m sure I heard you say that you’d be ready at six.”
She felt her face heat. She shook her head clenching her fists at her sides. “No…no…I can’t.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. His voice was soft. Once again, he reached out and grasped her chin in his big hand and gazed down at her.
“There’s a big difference between ‘can’t’ and ’won’t,’ Alexis.” He smiled at her and reached in his pocket and took out a business card.
“Tell you what. My cell number is on this card. Let’s make a deal. If you decide that you don’t want to have dinner with me just call and let me know. Okay?”
When she nodded, he winked at her. “Here’s the rest of the deal. You can only decline for one of three reasons. One, because the last time you ate Mexican food you ended up in the hospital with hives. Two, because you’re prejudiced and don’t eat with southerners, or three--because you’re chicken.”
She gasped, too startled to respond.
He reached out and stroked her cheek.
“See you at 6 p.m. Wear something casual. It’s a family place.”
When he turned to walk away, she struggled to speak, to tell him no, to give him back his card. To her shock, the only thing that came out of her mouth, in a squeak at that, was, “But, you don’t know where I’m living.”
He looked back over his shoulder and shook his head. “You forget, Alexis. I’m an investigator.” He faced her, walking backwards across the lot. “Come prepared to talk, Alexis. About that hot car.” He winked at her again. She could hear his chuckle as he walked away.
Chapter 5
Lexie stood in front of the mirror glaring at her reflection. She was surprised her lips weren’t bleeding she’d bitten them so much. What could she have been thinking? Agreeing to go out to dinner with Jake? She reminded herself with a frown, she hadn’t agreed. He’d tricked her into it. The thought raised her hackles even more. First of all, she didn’t want to go out with him; second, she didn’t want to go out with anyone, and, most important at the moment, she had nothing to wear. She looked in disgust at the pile of clothes on the bed, all of which she’d tried on twice.
She’d left San Francisco so quickly that she’d thrown the most available clothes in her suitcase without any thought to what she’d need in Yuma. Stripping hangers thoughtlessly, she’d ended up with a mish mash of cropped tops, jeans, biker shorts and four or five short swirly skirts. And, of course, the red suit that she had consciously added to her jumbled wardrobe. Thank God, Madame Juen had helped. Remembering the sobbing woman daintily folding Lexie’s outrageous scraps of lacy underwear, Lexie’s chest tightened. They had barely spoken. There were no words to say. When Madam Juen brought out her collection of strappy platform sandals, ankle boots, and her special knee high lizard skin boots with a questioning look, Lexie had scooped them up and thrown them all in the suitcase.
Staring at the one sundress she’d tossed in at the last minute, remembering how blisteringly hot Yuma was, she decided it was her best bet. He said be casual. Damn, only a man would say that. Casual as in her biker shorts and an exercise bra, or casual like jeans and a t-shirt? The sundress had the swirly skirt she preferred, although it came to inches above her knees looking almost modest in comparison to her usual short skirts that rode up her thighs. Granted, the stretchy bodice didn’t do much to contain her full breasts, but she‘d grown accustomed over the years to men ogling her. She’d given up any pretense of hiding them.
Glancing at her array of boots and shoes, she tossed her head and yanked out her four inch high heeled patent leather red shoes. They matched her dress, so why the hell not! She stood back to assess the results. She was mildly pleased with the woman in the mirror. She’d already wrestled with the never-ending question of what to do with her long blond hair. She eschewed the usual ponytail or casual twist, deciding to let it hang free. She was done fussing. Annoyed with the
time and trouble she’d taken to look good, she reminded herself with a scowl, she’d been tricked into this evening.
Glancing at the pile of papers that she’d spent the afternoon memorizing, she acknowledged she could use a break. Her grumbling stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since the banana she had after a long intense practice on the miniscule balcony. Damn, she’d meant to find a grocery store to stock up on water and fruit, but the cockroaches she’d chased down with the heel of her boot made the idea of eating in the grungy room untenable. Tossing a sweater in her shoulder bag, she hurried out the door, intending to wait for Jake in the parking lot. She didn’t try to analyze why she didn’t want him to see the dilapidated place she was living in. She could barely stand it herself.
~~~
As she fumbled with the useless lock, she heard a low whistle and turned to see Jake looking up at her from the bottom of the three flights of cement stairs. The look on his face made her self-consciously press the flared skirt of her dress next to her thighs, certain he could see up her dress. When he gave her a knowing grin that made her gut clench, she almost reconsidered. She still could say no. Go back in her room and lock the door. But that was before she allowed herself to focus on the man ambling up the steps toward her.