by Carsen Taite
“Found him. Last week. He was eating out of the trash. Someone must’ve let him go. He just followed me home. Asked around, but no one knew where he was from, so I let him stay. That’s why I missed court. I was taking care of him.”
A likely story. No doubt she was softening me up to keep me from bringing her in. Sorry, Judge, I can’t come to court because the dog is my homework. Not likely. I looked around the place. The inside was as unkempt as the outside. She couldn’t afford to keep a dog, and what the hell was she going to do with it when she wound up finishing out her time in jail? Jellybean—stupid name—would be better off in a shelter. Dog that good-looking would get adopted in no time.
“How did you know his name?”
“He didn’t come with a name, so I had to make one up.”
Of course you did. “I have to take you in.” Better to say it up front.
To her credit, she took it like a champ. “I know. But what about Jellybean? Can you take him?”
I looked between her and the dog and tried not to fall under the spell of their pleading eyes. I supposed I could say I would take the dog in. She didn’t have to know that “in” meant a shelter. With luck, I could get Susie booked in and Cujo to the shelter down the street from the courthouse before they closed. I nodded and she practically burst out crying. Steeled against her tears, I said, “Let’s go. I’m in a hurry.”
“I need one minute.” She took off to the kitchen before I realized she was in motion. I followed, and Jellybean trotted along beside us, like he owned the place. Just as I was about to grab Susie and drag her from the apartment, she turned around with her hands full.
“Here’s his favorite toy and some food. I didn’t have time to get him a leash, but he’s real good about sticking with you when he goes outside.”
I took the stuffed pink dinosaur and the bag of dry food and watched as she patiently explained to the dog how the nice lady was going to take him home. He answered with a few short sentences of his own and a glance in my direction to let me know he’d understood every word. I was pretty sure whatever pay I earned from this job would not be enough.
*
“You can’t bring that mutt in here.”
Jellybean yawned and Susie protested, “He’s not a mutt.”
The three of us were standing in the hallway outside the holding cells of the Lew Sterrett Justice Center aka the Dallas County Jail. All I wanted to do was turn Susie in, turn the dog in, collect my fee, and find some dinner, but Susie’s insistence that I not leave the dog in the car and the deputy sheriff’s insistence that I not bring the dog into the jail combined to put a damper on my day. I squared off with the officer. I didn’t know this guy, but I could tell he wasn’t cutting me any slack. Deputy trumps fugitive. I threw up my hands. “Fine, I’ll take him outside, but can we hurry this one along? I have somewhere I need to be.”
Deputy No Dogs shot me a withering glance. I’d probably just doomed any chance of making it to the shelter before they closed. I took Jellybean outside and tied his rope leash to a bike rack. Most action that rack had ever seen. Nobody rides a bike to the jail.
Back inside, I waited while they processed Susie into the jail and gave me the paperwork I’d need to present to Hardin in order to collect my fee. I started to dash back outside, when I saw Jess waving me down. I glanced at the door, half hoping Jellybean had chewed through his rope, and waited for her to approach. I knew I’d been a supreme jerk last time I’d seen her, but I couldn’t get over the fact she hadn’t called even once to check in.
“Hey, Bennett. Earning your keep?”
“Every little bit helps. You slumming it over here?” Jess was a homicide detective. More time spent investigating bigger crimes, which meant less arrest volume.
“Had to talk to a guy about another guy. You know.”
I nodded. I did know. My time on the force hadn’t lasted long, but it had been long enough to get a good feel for the job. Good enough to know I wasn’t cut out for all the rules that came with working for someone else.
“You headed out?”
I looked into her eyes, trying to figure out if the question was an invitation. Maybe we could fall back into our usual routine of casual sex, pretend the night of the wedding had never happened. I was willing to try if she was. I flashed a long, slow smile to let her know I was game. “Yep.”
“Great, let’s grab dinner. My treat.”
Not at all what I had in mind. Should’ve sorted that out before I implied I was free. But I was hungry. We could grab food at Maggie’s and be steps from my bed. I started to say as much, but she beat me.
“Not Maggie’s. A real meal where we actually sit at a table and people actually wait on us.”
Uh oh. All the signs were familiar. She wanted to talk. Again, not what I had in mind. Jess had never been much of a talker, and I liked that, but I could sense lately that had changed. I scrambled for a way out. “I’m not really dressed for someplace nice.”
She cast a look from my boots up to my T-shirt and leather jacket. “You look nice enough. Come on.” She turned around and started out the door. I had no choice but to follow and be a little angry that she knew I would.
She was moving really fast, but then pulled up short a few yards out the door. “What the hell!” she snarled.
I looked around her and immediately knew what was wrong. Jellybean. She knelt beside the dog and felt around his neck, muttering the entire time. “No collar and a rope for a leash? Typical. What if he got loose and ran off? Bet the jerk who left him here would be sorry then.”
I was the first to admit I was a jerk a lot of the time, but at least I hadn’t left the dog to subsist in a locked apartment when I arrested his owner. But you’re going to take him to the shelter. I knew I couldn’t tell Jess that as surely as I knew I had to tell her I was the one who’d tied the dog out here. I tapped Jess on the shoulder. “I’m the jerk. I tied him out here.”
She shook her head as if my words had fuzzied her brain. “Why? What are you of all people doing with a dog?”
“What do you mean, me ‘of all people’?”
“Face it, Luca, you’re like the last person on earth I’d trust with a pet. Look how you live.”
Wow. Talk about laying it all out. If this was a foreshadowing of what our dinner conversation would be like, I was ready to bow out now. I looked at Jellybean who stared up at me with his soulful blues, and I swore I detected a trace of sympathy. I’d rather spend a few hours with him than getting lectured about how my wild ways weren’t good enough for the perfect Jessica Chance. As the thoughts churned, a plan formed. I could keep the dog at my place one night if it meant avoiding whatever Jess wanted to discuss. Half-baked though it was, it inspired me to blurt out, “I live just fine. I’m taking my dog and going home.”
I nudged her aside and reached for the rope. She held it firmly and just out of my grasp. “If this is really your dog, what’s his name?”
My plans hadn’t included actually naming the beast, and no way was I going to tell Jess I owned a dog named Jellybean. I stared at his shiny coat, his pearly white teeth, and his big blue eyes, but none of that inspired me. My thoughts flicked to his recent, although brief, relationship with Susie and how we’d come to meet. Within seconds, I had it. A name. And it was a good one.
“His name is Cash.”
Chapter Five
An hour later, I pushed through the door of my apartment with a pizza box and a six-pack in my hands and Jess and Cash on my heels. Jess carried a huge bag of dog food in one arm, and a bag of chew toys and accessories dangled from her hand. I’d tried to talk her out of buying so much stuff, but she’d insisted. I decided I could take it to the shelter when I turned him in.
I set the pizza on the only table I had, an ancient, chipped coffee table, and peeled two beers off the pack and handed one to Jess.
“Do you have a bowl?”
“Drinking out of the can not good enough for you?”
“For
the dog. He needs water.”
I looked down at him. He was reclining on the floor with one paw draped over my boot in an I-own-you kind of way. He looked comfortable and entitled. How in the hell Jess divined he might be thirsty, I have no idea, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I reached in the cabinet and pulled down a red plastic bowl, filled it with water, and then watched the dog drink a quarter of it down. “Great, now he’s going to have to pee.”
“Dogs do that, you know.”
I started to fire back, but when I looked at Jess, I caught the slight grin and realized she was kidding. Her smile made me remember the start of last Friday evening, made me wish we could have a do-over. It’d only been a few days with no contact, but I missed what we’d had, whatever it was. I knew one part of us I really missed, and suddenly, I was hungry for something more than dinner. “I know, I just wanted…” I didn’t really want to have to ask for what I wanted, so I gestured vaguely in the direction of the pizza.
“He’ll be fine while we eat. When we’re done we can walk him together.”
“You think he can last a little longer than that?”
Jess stepped into my arms and slid her arms around my waist. Her breath on my neck was warm, her lips insistent. I had my answer. Good thing we both liked cold pizza.
I would’ve undressed her right there, but the dog was watching, so I led the way to the bedroom. Over the years we’d been friends, our dance had been choreographed into a familiar routine, but this was the first time we’d been together since I’d allowed my mind to think those three little words I hadn’t dared to speak out loud. As we stood facing each other in the dim light of my room, I was seized by a quick and powerful fear that I’d forgotten the steps, that whatever we’d had was gone, replaced by the void of my unspoken words. For a second, I considered telling her I’d changed my mind, that I was hungry for actual food, that I wanted to walk the dog. Anything at all to keep from having to feel whatever I was feeling.
Before I could act, she kissed me. Soft at first. Her lips pressed into mine and tugged them open, teasing and light. I remembered this. This was good. The months we’d gone without faded away. Could it be this easy for us to slip back into what we’d had?
I ran my hands through her short blond hair and drank in the spicy, fresh smell of her. Every pass of her tongue sent sparks through my entire body, and I arched against her, craving more. More than we’d had before, more than I’d ever thought we could. We were well on our way. Maybe it was this easy, but we were definitely not slipping back into what we’d had. No, we were moving toward something, something worth holding on to. I fought back the fear that threatened to freeze me up and gave in to whatever this was, tearing her shirt over her head, ripping off my own clothes to speed things along.
We moved more quickly now. Down on the bed. Skin on skin. Her legs between mine, my hands on her arms over her head, my tongue circled her breast. She arched against me, and I met her cry for cry. With each touch, I was grounded, I was home. We’d done this a million times before, but this was different and the same all at once. Unlike the other women who’d paraded in and out of my life, I cared about Jess sticking around. I didn’t know what to call it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to name it, but it felt good. It felt right. I didn’t want to lose it.
*
“You hungry?”
“Definitely.” I shook my head to clear away all the complicated thoughts cluttering our good time. Jess was propped on her elbows and I reached out to touch the spot on her shoulder where she’d taken a bullet for me just a few weeks ago, a tangible reminder she was different from the rest. I was hungry again, but I’d settle for pizza and the domestic bliss it represented. Didn’t sound so bad. At least we got to eat.
We both sat on the couch and dove in. Thank God she didn’t ask me to get plates. We devoured the pizza right out of the box while the dog watched from a respectable distance. I didn’t care how well behaved he was, I could tell he wanted pizza bones. He wanted them bad.
“You start feeding him your food, he’s never going to settle for his.”
I swear she could read my mind. I looked from the pizza in my hand to the giant bag of dry food sitting on my kitchen floor. No matter what Jess said, I respected the dog for wanting the good stuff. “Come here, doggie.”
He trotted over, laid his head on my knee, and gave me the soulful look before gently taking the piece of pizza I’d torn for him. Who was I to deny him a little pleasure? He wasn’t going to eat like this at the SPCA. I’m all about living in the moment. As I offered him another piece, Jess stood, gathered our trash, and took it to the kitchen.
“What’s this?”
I looked up from the hungry beast and stared at the sheaf of papers in her hand. Took me a second to click, but I quickly realized she was holding the information Ronnie had dropped off yesterday. I’d planned to toss it, but I’m not big on cleaning house. It could’ve sat there for days before I would’ve gotten around to throwing it out. I shrugged at Jess, hoping she wouldn’t dig any deeper.
Didn’t work.
“Jorge Moreno? Is that what she wanted? She wanted you to help her crooked brother?”
“Tell me how you really feel.”
She smacked the papers on the counter. “Tell me you’re not helping him. That you’re not helping her.”
I opened my mouth to say the no she wanted to hear, but I stopped short. I hadn’t planned on helping Ronnie. Hell, I hadn’t even planned to call her to tell her as much, but the way Jess let her name spoil whatever it was we’d shared for the past hour shook me a little. She’d always given me a hard time about Ronnie, especially when her suspicions that she was up to no good were confirmed. In her view, Ronnie had helped her crooked uncle cover up a sex ring and a murder. It was more complicated than that, but cops are prone to absolutes. What I didn’t get was why Jess was still so judgmental. It’d been months since Ronnie and I were a thing, and in the meantime, Jess had gotten hung up over a chick who was pretty crooked herself. Where did she get off scolding me for something I hadn’t even done yet?
I stared her down and she let the papers fall to the floor. We’d known each other long enough for her to get that pushing me into a corner wasn’t good for either of us. There were a ton of things I could’ve said to stop her before she walked out the door, but I stayed buttoned up. She could come around first for once. I was tired of always being the one in the wrong.
*
The next morning, I woke up to a cold nose against my neck. His stare was penetrating. I knew that look. Jellybean, I mean Cash, was hungry.
I climbed out of bed and poured him a big bowl of food while wishing I could send him to the corner grocery with a note around his neck asking for a cup of coffee.
I’ve never really understood pets. Seems like they mostly just sleep and eat, on your dime. I was all for one that was utilitarian, like a seeing eye dog or a search and rescue hound, but those were rare. Despite his display of ferocious barking at Susie’s place, Cash seemed a little too friendly to protect me from anything. Besides, I didn’t need much in the way of protecting. I could run real fast and I was a crack shot. He was a beautiful dog, but I’m not big into keeping things just because they’re pretty. He’d make someone a fine pet, if he didn’t eat them into poverty first.
I tossed through a pile of clothes and found sweats that weren’t standing on their own yet. I dressed for a run that would work the dual benefits of clearing my head and putting me in good proximity to coffee. I opened the door to leave, but stopped when I heard Cash speaking in his strange dog tongue. When he was done, I cocked my head to let him know I didn’t understand a word he’d said. He cocked his head back at me. Guess we were at an impasse. I had one foot out the door when suddenly he was at my side, his brand new leash hanging from the sides of his mouth.
“Oh, I get it. Why didn’t you just say so?” He barked in response, the sound muffled by the mouthful of leather. I’d told Jess to buy the cheap leash, knowi
ng the folks at the shelter wouldn’t care about him having top of the line accessories, but she’d insisted on going all out. The food she’d bought had been some organic, all natural shit that probably wasn’t good for him. Pesticides and preservatives build immunities. At least that’s how I justify eating so many. Besides, he wouldn’t eat like that at the shelter or, chances were, at his new home. I should get him used to real world food, and I had just the thing in mind.
Cash was a faster runner than me, which I attributed to his extra legs rather than my sluggish morning self. When we arrived at the convenience store, I walked him in and waved down the protests of the cashier. The place was a dive. Wasn’t like a dog was going to bring it down a notch. One cup of coffee, three donuts, and two hot dogs later, Cash and I left. I could tell by the way he drooled over his half of the food that the organic crap hadn’t done much to fill his belly.
The excursion left me tired. I curled up on the couch with the sheaf of papers Jess had found so objectionable. I hadn’t really wanted to know more than I did about Ronnie’s brother—that he was a cop and a jerk—but I’m not impervious to the call of curiosity.
The case against him looked simple. He’d been caught working with a confidential informant to set up fake drug busts. The department had tagged him with two possible motives: beefing up his arrest record, and kickbacks from the CI. I’d heard the story on the radio when it first broke. It was a big deal around town. Apparently, the scheme had been going on for several months before Jorge got caught, and in the meantime, he’d racked up a nomination for officer of the year because of his role in one of the largest busts in DPD history, which of course, turned out to be all fake. DPD had a practice of doing field tests on drug busts but not actually sending the drugs to the lab for additional testing unless the accused decided to fight the charges.