Bossy Burglar: A Hero Club Novel

by A. J. Norris

  Laying my head back against the bed, I stared at the ceiling. “Harris knows.”

  “How?”

  “I told her. And before you say anything, she was cool with it. Honestly, it was a thank-you.”

  Bandit’s eyes widened and he recoiled. “For what?”

  “Melanie’s and my shared history. Once Harris found out, I should’ve been pulled from the investigation, but she let it ride because of how close we were to bringing down the Syndicate.” I shrugged, forgetting about my shoulder, and ended up groaning.

  “You look like you’re in a lot of pain. Want me to get a nurse?”

  “No—ohhh...” I held my breath.

  He looked at me like he was waiting for me to change my mind or maybe keel over and die of agony. Eventually, the feeling of someone jabbing me with a hot poker ebbed.

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “If that’s what I am, then thanks.”

  My best friend chuckled. “The doctor says you will be.”

  “Cool. Hey, was the salesperson at the scene—is she okay?”

  “She was treated for a knock on the head, but fine. Already home with her family.”

  I nodded.

  A woman with FBI credentials clipped to the hem of her fitted blazer appeared in the open doorway and knocked. “Mind if I come in?” She came in without awaiting an answer. “I’m Special Agent Pamela Harris. We spoke on the phone.”

  “I remember,” I said.

  “See ya later,” Bandit said to me, then shook the agent’s hand before leaving. By their expressions, I could tell they’d already met at some point in the last twenty-four hours.

  “How’s the shoulder?” she asked.

  “Hurts.”

  She nodded and glanced around the private hospital room. Moving closer to the bed, she leaned a side against the wall and crossed her arms and feet at the ankles. “She gave up the seller.”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure the seller was the man who called himself Mr. Crowley. “Is the prosecution cutting her a deal?”

  “Yeah, for her testimony and pleading guilty to accessory. She’ll get two years of probation and a thousand hours of community service. The judge is expected to sign off.”

  “When will she be out?”

  “I don’t expect it’ll be any longer than Monday afternoon. Tuesday at the latest.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Any ideas on who her brother’s killer is?”

  “Flynn copped to accessory after the fact. Said it was Max.”

  How convenient for him. “Do you believe him?”

  “Yes. Max a.k.a. Matthew Swanson was wanted in Texas for avoiding prosecution for first-degree murder.”

  “He’s dead, right?”

  She nodded. “At the scene.”

  It seemed to me that Flynn should’ve given up the seller. What was more curious was he obviously gave this information to Melanie, almost as if he had wanted to protect her. Perhaps I had misjudged the man. “What about Rico, Derrick, and the security guard, Devon?”

  “Offered lesser sentences for any information if they pleaded guilty. Derrick was the only one who took the deal.”

  “Well, what do you know, the dude has a brain.”

  Harris smiled. “Mr. Crowley was arrested on his ranch outside of Fort Worth.”

  “That’s not his real name, so how’d you find him?”

  “Melanie.”

  But how? Okay, Flynn was obviously a fountain of knowledge, yet let her take all the credit. Astounding. Had his guilt for covering up Josh’s murder compelled him? Why not save his own ass? “Can you do me a favor?”

  “I’m keeping your relationship with her off the record.”

  Not what I was going to ask. “I’d appreciate it. Did she say anything?”

  “Nope and I didn’t ask. I’m sorry about your, um...” Agent Harris fidgeted, straightening her jacket and putting her hands in and out of her pockets.

  “Dead fiancée?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m learning to live with it. And the accident was an accident. Plain and simple.”

  “You’re a forgiving man.”

  “Like I said, it was an accident. She blames herself anyway. Adding to the pile won’t bring Jennifer back or make me feel better.”

  “In case no one told you, you did a heroic thing. I know Melanie appreciates—”

  I waved her off. “I’m no hero. Just doing my job.”

  “Well, you certainly walked the plank for her.”

  I snapped my eyes in her direction. “What was that?”

  “Something my nana always said. I think it was her version of: No good deed goes unpunished.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t know what for, but you’re welcome.” Pushing away from the wall, Harris came forward. It appeared as though she might’ve given me a hug or a friendly pat, but then changed her mind. “I’ll be in touch.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Melanie

  I burst into Jayce’s hospital room Wednesday morning. The damn legal paperwork took an extra day to file before I could be set free. The bed was empty and devoid of sheets and blankets. Was I too late? Pamela—or was I supposed to refer to her as Special Agent Harris?—told me where I could find him.

  A nurse came in with a folded set of fresh bedlinens. “The patient that was in this room,” I said to him, “did they discharge him?”

  The man smiled. “No ma’am, he’s using the—”

  The toilet flushed.

  “...bathroom while I change the sheets.”

  Pounding on the bathroom door, I called his name. “Jayce!”

  The door opened abruptly. “Melanie. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you as soon as I could.”

  He frowned, lurched to a chair next to the bed, and sat. By the slowness of his gait and movements, I gathered he was in a lot of pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, staving off the tears that had formed. “I shouldn’t’ve come,” I said, more to myself than him. “You’re mad at me.”

  “No.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t understand why you didn’t trust me, though.”

  “I’m so sorry. I panicked because of what Flynn told me.”

  His brow crinkled in confusion. “I told you I was a cop.” The nurse finished making the bed and left quietly. “Why didn’t you come back to the safehouse and tell me what was going on?”

  “Flynn made me doubt myself, doubt you. He made a strong argument that convinced me you weren’t really who you said you were.”

  “A cop?”

  “I mean, you never showed me a badge.”

  “In my defense, you never asked.”

  I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Can you show me now?”

  Jayce snort-chuckled. “Don’t you think if I wasn’t a cop, I’d be handcuffed to the bed rails? You know, you could’ve answered my texts and voicemails. Hell, I thought about hiring a skywriter. I was so worried about you, I put out a BOLO for you.”

  “What’s a BOLO?”

  “Be on the lookout for—it doesn’t matter.”

  “Like an APB? I know what that is.”

  “Similar. Not the point. I wished you would have trusted me.”

  “I didn’t trust anyone at that point.” And I totally agreed with Jayce. Sure, Flynn wanted to help a girl out by giving me the seller’s name and where to find the asshole, but he also wanted me to get into trouble on principal. Although, it wasn’t like I was completely innocent. I deserved to be punished for my role. Maybe in a small way, this was why I stuck around.

  “Hand me the bag over there on the counter.” He pointed to a counter with a sink and cabinets above and below it. I held up a white plastic bag marked on the side with the name of the hospital. “That’s the one. Bring it here.”

  “I swear, if there’s stolen jewelry in here...”

  He glared at me.

  “Sorry. Too soon?” Grinning, I handed him the bag.

  �
�So that there’s no question...” He reached into the sack, pulled out a silver-and-gold-plated badge on a leather backing, and dangled the shield from a ball chain. “Assuming Flynn gave you Mr. Crowley, why didn’t you go to the FBI? Why did you still show up for the job?”

  “I left a message for the agent—”

  “Harris?”

  I nodded at the floor. “She never called me back. Then it was time to leave and I didn’t want you to get killed when you stole the money. I went to try and convince you not to go through with it.”

  His expression became confused. “Even though you didn’t trust me?”

  She nodded. “I know it was incredibly stupid. I thought I would have a chance to talk to you.”

  “All right. Then clarify something for me: Why risk your life for me?”

  There were many reasons, although only one really mattered now. “Because I’m in love with you. Criminal or not, I didn’t want you to end up dead. I’m really glad you turned out to be telling the truth.” There was nothing like exposing your vulnerability by admitting you loved someone who had every reason not to love you in return.

  Jayce nodded. He stayed mute for a long time, the silence growing awkward.

  Wringing my hands, I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “I’m a criminal so I understand if you don’t want me in your life. I’m full of holes and I can’t expect you to deal with a leaky boat.”

  He smirked. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  Taking his hand, I positioned myself on the top of his thighs, putting my arm around his neck. Even though I caught him wincing, he hugged me with his good arm. I kissed his cheek. “Thank you for saving my life.”

  A blush developed on his cheeks. “I—”

  “Don’t say some humble crap about it like I’m just doing my job.”

  “Okay, I won’t. You’re welcome. I did it because I’m in love with you, too.”

  “Does this mean you forgive me?”

  “Yes.”

  My heart swelled with hope. I hadn’t had anything to wish for in such a long time. On the way to the hospital, I prayed he’d forgive me for not having had faith in him. I had been wallowing in the past like a coward. My self-destructive mission was pathetic. Although it was an accident, Jennifer’s death will probably never sit completely right with me. But if Jayce could forgive me, then I ought to start forgiving myself.

  “All right, you know what we need? Some Bondo or marine epoxy or whatever fixes holes in boats.”

  I laughed. “You plugged one already.”

  Kissing me, he moaned against my lips. “Oh, really, just one? I can think of at least two.”

  “I like a man with a dirty mind. However, that’s not what I meant.” I pressed my forehead to his. “Your acceptance and forgiveness showed me that it’s okay to forgive myself.”

  “I’m right there with you, sweetheart.” This time, when he called me “sweetheart,” I knew it was with love.

  CHAPTER 33

  SEVEN MONTHS LATER

  Jayce

  As I stood in what was once my living room, it no longer felt like my home. After leaving the hospital, I stayed with Melanie in her apartment. I played patient to her nurse. The sponge baths were unforgettable. And I plugged her holes a lot. She also enjoyed walking my plank. A smile spread across my face.

  I wandered from room to room, surveying the contents and mentally counting the number of boxes I might need to pack everything up. As far as the furniture, Melanie was going to meet me here later and we’d decide together which pieces went into storage until we moved into a new house, or which would be donated to charity.

  A layer of dust covered much of everything, including the pictures of the life Jennifer and I had together. I hadn’t been sure I would be keeping any of them, out of respect for Melanie. Both of us were getting a second chance at life and we appreciated the hell out of it. However, she insisted I keep some, because Jennifer had been a big part of my past. In addition to finally living again, after moving in with my new love, my insomnia disappeared. Hers, too.

  The doorbell rang.

  I’d put this reunion off for so long, my banked anxiety soared. When I called Jennifer’s sister asking her to meet me here, I expected her not to answer the phone. However, I was wrong. We spent twenty minutes crying as I apologized for being a selfish prick.

  I opened the door and instantly, my eyes started watering. All right, I was openly sobbing. On the front porch was Jennifer’s sister and both her parents. Her dad came in first. His eyes sprung a leak, too. He pulled me in for a hug, albeit a quick, manly one. Next, her mother, then the sister, Christina, each gave me hugs.

  Wiping my eyes, I told them to look around and take anything of Jennifer’s they wanted.

  “We’re really glad you called, Jayce,” her father said.

  “Thanks. I’m sorry it took so long.” My voice cracked. “I was—it was a shitty thing to do.”

  Christina smiled with compassion. “We’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  I nodded. “I can step outside if you’d like to be alone as a family.”

  Her mother looked over at me from the wall of pictures by the front door. “You are family. Our daughter may have passed away, but we still love you. She loved you and we know how well you treated her.”

  “Any of the pictures you want, take them. I already have the ones of both of us that I’m keeping. There are photo albums in the bookcase in the den. All of it is yours. Anything of hers is yours.”

  “Can I ask you, Jayce...what made you decide to contact us? Why now?” Christina wanted to know.

  “I thought if I kept everything in the house as it was before the accident, she would come back somehow. So, I locked up the house, preserving everything inside. I didn’t want to face the fact that she wasn’t coming home. I haven’t lived here in years. It’s time for me to let go.”

  Her mother covered her heart. “I hope you know that we don’t expect you to mourn her forever. Jennifer would want you to be happy, even if it was without her.”

  Only a small measure of guilt panged my heart when I thought of how I had moved on. “I’ve been in a relationship for about seven months now.”

  They all smiled, including her dad.

  Mrs. Regan smiled with bittersweet happiness in her eyes. “That’s wonderful. We’d love to meet her.”

  As glad as I was to be reunited with Jennifer’s family, I wasn’t so sure they would want to meet the other woman involved in the crash that took their daughter’s life. However, at the same time, they deserved to know the truth. Sooner or later, they were bound to find out. But today was not the day.

  “What’s her name?” her father asked.

  Shit. I really hadn’t thought this one through. Now what? I took a deep breath. “You know the saying, it’s a small world?”

  * * *

  Melanie

  The jingle bells over the door chimed as I entered the Hermosa Beach Animal Shelter. After doing about two hundred hours of my community service sentence picking up trash on the 405, I decided I needed a change of scenery. The city-funded animal shelter seemed like a great choice, since I loved animals and they finally had an opening for a volunteer position.

  The sound of small hooves clip-clopped on the tile floor. A long counter blocked my view of what was making the noise. There was a gap in the counter at the end next to the wall.

  A small goat appeared and trotted up to me. It wore a collar with a tag hanging from a metal ring. He appeared friendly so I squatted and the read the name off the tag. Pixy. “Well, you’re a cute little thing. I love your eyes,” I checked the gender quickly, “handsome.”

  “Baa.”

  “Hello? I’ll be with you in a minute,” a woman called from the back through an open door.

  “No worries.”

  Pixy rubbed his head on my chest, throwing me off balance. I
fell backward, laughing. He sniffed my hair and bleated.

  “Pixy!” the woman yelled.

  “Uh-oh, I hope I didn’t get you in trouble,” I whispered to the goat. The little guy snorted.

  “Pix—oh, are you okay?” the woman said standing over us. “Melanie? From Starbucks?”

  “Yes. I’m Melanie Hughes.” I sat up and brushed the goat hair from my shirt. “I’m here for an—oh, my god, Aubrey!”

  “Let me help you off the floor. Did Pixy hurt you?” She extended her hand.

  I laughed and stood with Aubrey’s assistance. “No. He’s adorable.”

  “So, you’re here for an interview?”

  “Yes, I called about the open volunteer position available.” I glanced at her left ring finger where there was a princess cut diamond engagement ring.

  “Come on, I’ll give you a tour while we chat.” She motioned for me with a wave to follow her. We went behind the counter and through the open door. The indoor part of the shelter was basically one large room with a small office off to the side. An employee played tug-o-war with a medium-sized dog. Another dog with a graying muzzle lay on a dog bed next to the office door.

  Built-in cages lined two of the walls, with canines on the bottom and felines on the top. Everything was immaculately clean.

  I’d expected noisy, crowded runs, much like a prison. This was a resort compared to the horrors in some ASPCA ads.

  Aubrey introduced me to Bonnie, the employee playing with the dog. She smiled and waved.

  “What brings you to Hermosa Beach?”

  Where to begin with that one? “It’s a long story. But let’s just say, I have to do community service as a result.” My cheeks heated. “I hope that’s not a problem. I mean, I would need you to sign off on my volunteer hours.” Oh, god, please accept me. I nearly had tears in my eyes.

  Aubrey smiled. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. We’re practically old friends. Tell me why you would like to work here?”

  “I love animals.”

  “Do you have any pets?”

  “Not currently. My boyfriend and I were talking about adopting a dog.”

  Pixy wandered over to us and nudged the back of Aubrey’s knee. “Baa.”