Jules, the Bounty Hunter

by Katie Ashley

  She eased down on the couch across from me. Pain and hurt etched across her face. “Nathaniel was always too trusting…too loving.”

  “When it comes to you, he most definitely is!” I winced the moment the words left my mouth.

  Mom smiled tightly. “There’s no need to resort to all that, Julianne.”

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. I slid off the loveseat and went to sit beside Mom. “It’s just I’ve been racking my brains for years now, desperately trying to understand why you left us, wondering if there was something we did—that I did. And now, after all this time, I find out that there was another man.”

  Tentatively, Mom reached out to touch my face. I didn’t jerk away. Instead, I let her fingers trail down the side of my cheek. “Oh, sweetheart, there was never anything you or your brothers did that made me leave.” Tears sprang to her blue eyes. “There also wasn’t anything so awful that your father did either. It was all me. Selfish and self-involved me having some sort of young life crisis.”

  “But you weren’t always that way—you changed.” I bit down hard on my lip to cut off the sob rising in my throat. “You were a good mother.”

  Mom wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m glad to hear you say that.” She exhaled painfully. “I wish I could give you a specific reason why I did what I did, but I can’t. Your father and I were having some problems. Your granddaddy was scaling back his hours, and Nathaniel was working more and more. I was home alone with you guys—no job or outlet for me besides the ranch. And then my father, the man who had meant everything to me, died. I guess you could say it shattered me. I came back here to the world I’d known for twenty years of my life, and I didn’t want to leave. And then Emmett came along when I was vulnerable. We had a past together from being high school sweethearts. Somehow the relationship just happened.”

  “I see,” I murmured, suddenly feeling sick.

  Mom took my hand in hers. “I am so very, very sorry for what I did to you and the boys, Julianne. No matter what was happening with your father or with Emmett, I should never, ever have abandoned you all like I did.”

  Wow, there it was. The epic apology I’d been waiting to hear. I’d gone prowling for information about Emmett, but instead I’d unearthed a treasure trove with Mom.

  “Listen, your apology is nice and all, and I’ve been waiting on it for a long, long time, but it’s not like I can just forgive and forget everything that’s happened. It’s going to take time…”

  “I understand, Julianne. I know that we have a long way to go, but I hope that you’ll let me try to make things up to you. I know I can’t erase the past, but I do want to be a part of your life.”

  “Okay, we can try. But just as long as you know that Savannah will never be home to me, and that my life will always be with Dad,” I replied.

  Mom’s smile wavered a little, but she inclined her head in agreement. Then she reached over and hugged me. I closed my eyes to savor the feeling of her arms around me. It had been a long, long time.

  When she pulled away, Mom’s gaze fell on some of the papers I’d not had the time to straighten up. She gave me an accusatory look as she shot off the couch. “You were snooping in my things, weren’t you?”

  Ducking my head, I tried my best to lie. “No.”

  “Julianne, look at me,” Mom demanded. When I met her gaze, she shook her head. “You were going through my things to find information about Emmett Marshall, weren’t you?” I didn’t respond. “Did your father tell you about Emmett’s bond?”

  “Maybe.”

  She gasped. “And now you’re trying to track him down?”

  “I’m just doing the legwork for Dad,” I protested.

  “Unbelievable.”

  “What, that Dad takes my skills seriously, or that we have the audacity to go after your former boyfriend?”

  “Both I suppose.” She eased back on the couch. “I can’t deny how much I disagree with the very idea of you and your brothers working with your father.”

  “Yeah, I think we all know how you feel about bounty hunting.”

  Mom shook her head. “It’s not just that. Your father’s work is dangerous, and you’re just sixteen. Doing anything with bail bonding would have been seriously discouraged if I had been at home.”

  “But you weren’t,” I countered.

  “Julianne—”

  “And don’t think you could have discouraged it even if you tried. Bounty hunting and the law—it’s in our blood. It’s something that both the boys and I love doing.”

  “And a good mother should want her children to do what they love,” Mom replied.

  “That’s right.”

  We sat staring each other down for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Mom dropped her eyes to her lap and then straightened her skirt. “If a woman is allowed two great loves in life, then your father and Emmett are mine.” She drew in a deep breath. “The truth is I haven’t talked to Emmett in a couple of months. I didn’t agree with what he did, taking money from those investors. The deal breaker for me came when he didn’t take responsibility for his actions. I told him I couldn’t have anything to do with him until he made it right.”

  She then rose off the couch and went into the bedroom. She returned with a slip of paper. A quick glance at it showed me an address on Tybee Island.

  “Is this…?”

  “It’s the last known address I have of Emmett’s. His father owns some condos on the beach. I don’t know if he’s staying there or not.”

  I ran my fingertips over the paper. “Thanks,” I murmured.

  “You’re welcome,” Mom replied. She grabbed up the shopping bags and headed into the bedroom.

  Rising up from the couch, I started to the door, then turned back. “Mom?”

  “Yeah,” she called.

  “I’m really sorry about going through your things and all.”

  She came to the bedroom doorway. “It’s okay.” A smile curved on her lips. “I probably would’ve done the same thing. You’re not all your father’s daughter, you know.”

  I didn’t quite know how that statement made me feel. Waving the piece of paper, I said, “And thanks again for the information. You know, whatever we get for Emmett goes towards my college tuition.”

  Mom nodded. “No problem.”

  And with that, I turned and headed out the door. After all, I had some investigating to do.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I got back to my room, I pulled out my laptop and did a quick search of the address Mom had given me. Nothing came up for the house itself. Instead, I discovered the street belonged to a development of beach townhouses called Laurel Marsh. The only phone number was for the real estate and rental office of the complex.

  I growled in frustration and shut off the computer. It was starting to become very apparent that if small time criminals are hard to pinpoint, then a man of Emmett’s resources and savvy was going to be very, very tricky to find.

  My phone rang. It was Wyatt. “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Just doing some work on the Marshall case.”

  “Finding anything?”

  “Yeah, I got a lead this morning from my mom, of all people. I’m probably heading over to Tybee Island in a bit to scope out this condo complex that Marshall’s dad owns. You know, maybe find some signs of Emmett.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. How’d it go last night?”

  Yesterday while schooling Wyatt, I’d let it slip about my party and how nervous I was. “Um, okay, I guess.”

  “Go on. Spill it, Julesy. Did you bust a guy’s lip or trip over your dress?”

  In a huff, I replied, “No, I didn’t!” Since I knew Wyatt wouldn’t give up, I filled him in on all the details, including my conversation with Jackson.

  “That’s a good sign that he talked to you alone. And he wants you to teach him some karate moves that involve both hanging out and potentially play fighting, which is kinda kinky.”

  “Do you ever
stop with the perversion or do I just get lucky?”

  “Hey, when you get my help, you get it all. The good, the bad, and the potentially naughty.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “So you aren’t coming down to Raye’s today?”

  “Yeah, I was planning on it. This shouldn’t take too long. Why?”

  “Because I miss you, and I’m desperate to see you. Duh, because I’m stuck doing filing and chick shit until you teach me what I gotta know to get on the Apprehension Team!”

  “With that kind of attitude, let me run right down there!” I snapped.

  Wyatt chuckled. “Just do your thing and get your ass down here before Mom makes me do something truly disgusting like cleaning the toilet.”

  “Maybe I’ll just take my time then.”

  “Whatever. See ya later.”

  “Bye.”

  After I hung up, I headed over to the closet. Going to Tybee wasn’t going to be torturous or anything. What’s there not to like about an island with miles of white sand and emerald water? Plus, I’d practically grown up on the beaches there when I was little and we would visit my grandparents in the summer.

  But going to Tybee meant I needed to look convincing as your average tourist or islander. That meant dragging out the new beach bag Mom had surprised me with the other day. She’d been beaming when she thrust the package in my hands. “I remembered how much you loved the beach growing up, and I knew we forgot to get one on our shopping trip.”

  Within the beach bag (Prada, no less) was a purple bikini, also Prada, and a gauzy black cover-up dress, which was, you guessed it, Prada. Personally, I thought it was kinda absurd to spend so much money on one article of clothing or bag, but because Mom was trying so hard, I’d ooed and ahhed over the beach bag like it was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.

  So after I donned my designer outfit and slipped on my flip-flops (thankfully Payless, not Prada), I grabbed a beach hat out of the closet. A glance in the mirror told me my disguise was foolproof. Now all I had to do was find transportation.

  As I pounded down the backstairs, I weighed my options. Most of my bounty hunting instincts told me no one ever did recon work while they were being chauffeured. Talk about calling attention to yourself, even in the more ritzy areas. So having Andrew drive me was definitely out.

  When I went in search of him, I found him pruning a few of the magnolia trees in the backyard. “Afternoon Julianne. What are you up to?”

  “I was thinking of heading over to Tybee Island.”

  “That’s sounds nice. Let me put these shears away, and I’ll get my keys.”

  When Andrew started to head to the garage, I stopped him. “Actually, I was thinking of driving myself. You know, get to know the city a little better.”

  “Hmm,” he replied, scratching his chin.

  “You don’t need to worry about my driving. My dad made me take a six week Driver’s Ed course, and I have my license.”

  He waved his hand dismissively at me. “Oh, I wasn’t worried about that. I was just wondering what you were going to drive.” He jerked his head toward the three car garage, and I followed him.

  Inside, there was the Lincoln that I was used to being chauffeured in. And then there was my grandfather’s old Mercedes. “Wow, I can’t believe they still have this,” I mused, running my fingers over the hood.

  “Why that’s a fine car. Mr. Percy only drove it for a few years before he passed away. Want me to get you the keys?”

  Actually, the Mercedes was almost eleven years old. Usually I liked older cars—I wanted a 67’ Mustang for goodness sake, but with the older and larger body style, I might as well have been driving a tank.

  Like Goldilocks, I swiveled my head, and my gaze fell on a car that was just right. It was a fire engine red Porsche 911—just like the one Jake Ryan drove in Sixteen Candles. “What about this one?”

  Andrew’s eyes widened in horror while he shook his head furiously from side to side. “Are you insane? That’s Miss Lenore’s car.”

  “Really? This doesn’t look like her at all.”

  Glancing left and right before he spoke, Andrew leaned in and said, “It was her husband’s favorite. She got it in the divorce just to punish him. She never drives it.”

  “What about Bryn?”

  “No, she has her own Audi convertible.

  A slow smile crept across my face. “Then this baby probably needs to get out on the road. You know, blow the dust out of the exhaust and all.”

  Andrew shook his head. “Oh no, Miss Lenore would throw a fit if someone drove it.”

  “She doesn’t have to know.” When he gave me a ‘you must be delusional’ look, I sighed. “Okay then, just point me in the direction of where the keys are kept. She won’t know you were ever in here with me. I’ll take full responsibility.”

  Andrew appeared to be weighing my words. Finally, he smiled and shook his head. “Lord, you’re just like Vivian, and I can never tell her no!”

  I cringed at some of the mental images that flashed in my mind. “Glad to know I made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

  He jerked his head toward the back of the garage. “The keys are on the hook in the storage closet.”

  “Thanks. Now go on back outside like you’ve been working.”

  As soon as Andrew disappeared around the corner, I made a beeline for the keys. I snatched them up and then scrambled back to the car, desperately wanting to get out of sight before Aunt Lenore or anyone else saw me.

  Sliding into the passenger seat felt amazing. I ran my hands over the steering wheel. Now this was a car. I could see why Aunt Lenore’s husband had loved it so much. I’m not quite sure when I started paying attention to cars. I guess it made sense with only men in the house the last six years.

  I cranked up. When no one came running to bust me, I put it in reverse and carefully eased out of the garage. Resisting the urge to gun it, I crept down the driveway. I don’t think I drew a breath until I pulled out into the street.

  Exhaling, I brought my foot hard down on the accelerator and sped out of the neighborhood. As soon as I stopped for a full tank of gas, I was on my way out of town towards Tybee Island.

  When I crossed the Lazaretto Bridge onto the island, I rolled the windows down and blasted the radio, singing along like a crazy fool. Just because I was off to do bounty hunting work didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the beautiful day in my awesomely fantastic ride.

  I took my phone out of my pocket and then activated the Map-quest application. The monotone voice told me where to turn and how far to go. When I was almost at my destination, as the phone said, I pulled the car off on a side street across from the main office.

  Grabbing up my beach bag and phone, I locked the car and then walked over to the clubhouse. I ducked into the leasing office to see what I could find out there first before actually creeping along the properties.

  A receptionist glanced up at me when I breezed through the door. “Can I help you?”

  “Um, yeah, I was wondering where I could find Mr. Marshall.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Which Mr. Marshall?”

  My heart accelerated at the thought that he might really be here. “Emmett,” I replied.

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I haven’t seen him around in awhile. Now Frank, his dad, owns several rental properties here. You might check with him.”

  Using my best sleuthing skills, I said, “He owns 1020, right?”

  She glanced at a chart on the wall. “No, he owns 1015-1018.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Thanks.”

  With the front office coming up with zippo except for the rental numbers, I headed back outside. Maybe Emmett hadn’t been around the rental offices, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hanging around somewhere—like in the one of the four condos his dad owned.

  The street address Mom had given me was 1018 Laurel Marsh Way, but I’d thrown the 1020 in there to the receptionist to see what I could fish out. I adjuste
d my beach bag on my shoulder and started reading mailbox numbers. When I found 1018, I glanced left and right. Then I opened the mailbox to see if any of the mail had Emmett’s name on it.

  Zippo yet again.

  So, I did the next best stalkerish thing. I strode up the pathway to the house and rang the doorbell. At the sound of footsteps, my breath hitched in my chest.

  A woman answered the door. She was clearly some wealthy retiree’s trophy wife. “Yeah?” she asked, smacking her gum.

  “Oh, I’m sorry I was looking for Emmett Marshall.”

  She scrunched her face up. “You got the wrong house,” she said, before slamming the door.

  Okay, so 1018 was out. That left three other houses. I continued on down the sidewalk. The heat radiated off the pavement, and I felt myself starting to sweat.

  Just as I started up the walkway to 1017, a male figure started coming towards me. Through the hazy sun, I couldn’t make out his features…until it was too late.

  It was Jackson.

  “Jules? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Shit, shit, SHIT! What had I possibly done to deserve this level of karmic retribution, stumbling upon Jackson when I was hunting his dad?

  “Oh, um, I wanted to get out of the house, so I thought a day at the beach would be nice. So, I drove right on over. It’s a special place - my parents used to bring me and my brothers out here when we were little.” I finally zipped my lips, wondering why I always seemed like a blubbering fool.

  Jackson smiled. “I’m glad I ran into you then.” Ever the gentleman, he lifted my beach bag off my shoulder and motioned me down the boardwalk. There was no escaping hanging out with him. Of course, it wasn’t like it was torture or anything. Plus, I could always try to get some information about his dad from him.

  An elderly man on a golf cart rode up next to us, and I immediately noticed his resemblance to the mug shot I’d seen of Emmett. This had to Frank Marshall, Jackson’s grandfather. All the Marshall men had the same green eyes and facial structures. “Well, hello there,” he said, smiling at me.

  “Granddad, this is Bryn’s cousin, Julianne St. James, and Jules, this is my grandfather, Frank.”