I blast through my workout in record time and head back to my apartment for a quick shower. After washing my hair, lathering all my body parts, and drying myself, I take an hour to style my hair, apply makeup, and doll myself up for Fiddlers Bar and Grill. It’s located outside Sunnyslope’s Wendell district and outside the Cactus police district. It’s also where both groups of cops gather in plain clothes to unwind. I want to look my best and get a feel for what’s happening in the blue world.
I park Sally in the side lot with five other vehicles and enter the dark and cool interior of the bar. After completely ignoring the sign on the door that reads: No Guns Permitted, I take a booth in the back corner. I guarantee everyone in here is carrying and not just the cops.
I scout out the crowd and see only a few vaguely familiar faces. The majority of the police crowd will start drifting in shortly. I came a bit early so I could take the back booth and see who enters the bar. The cops I know will spot me straight up—they’ll check out everyone in the place before taking a seat. It’s a cop safety thing. This booth is prime real estate and that’s exactly why I wanted it.
I don’t recognize my waitress. She gives her name as Lex and takes my order. She appears to be a typical badge bunny—poufy hair, big boobs, and long legs. Quite a few of them work off and on at Fiddlers because they know cops hang here. The other badge bunnies are usually dispatchers. I tried very hard to love the dispatchers who kept me safe during my shift, but you always knew who the bunnies were.
I order a Corona in a bottle, which comes with a lime wedge. I sit back and bide my time.
Al Jansen is the first cop to enter. It’s a relief, he’s a good guy. He’s also an old-timer who’s not overly fond of me being a PI, but he’ll be pleasant. I get a head nod from him as he makes his way to the bar and places an order. He drinks hard. The guys give him a ride home if he goes over the line. Tonight will depend on where he is in his shift. If he’s on his Friday, he won’t stop until he’s slurring his words and stumbling around. If I’m here late enough, giving him that ride might be worth it. If Kennedy is in the shit, Jansen will know. Doesn’t mean, even drunk, he’ll spill the info, but it’s worth a try.
He eventually walks over with drink in hand. Before he can say hello, my drink is delivered. Lex barely gives him the time of day. She’s looking for someone younger. Al knows it and so do I. He gives me a half smile and watches her hips sway as she walks away.
When he turns back, his smile is gone. “How’s it hangin’, Mak?”
I pick up my beer and motion with it so he’ll take the seat across from me. He stares for a moment before I give him what he wants. “I’m carrying and have your back, but I understand if you don’t want to sit with a private dick.”
He laughs and slides into the booth. “You always were one of the guys, Mak.”
I correct him, which probably doesn’t help my cause. “One of the officers, Al. I was never one of the guys.”
He belts out another laugh. He’s a large man. Not as in overweight, just large. His hair is old-regulation buzz-cut and the lines of working a stressful job show clearly on his face. He’s seen too much and lived to tell the tale, so far. I always liked his stories; the bloodier the better. Cops, especially young ones, live for blood and gore. He lifts his chin a bit. “You understand my meaning, Mak. So how’s the shoulder?”
I rotate it a bit out of habit. “It’s good. Still a bitch sometimes, but I keep it limber knowing it’ll be worse when I’m older.”
“Knee’s like that. What brings you into the blue den?” he responds, going straight to the point.
I give him the same. “Bad rumors about cops.”
His eyes change. The warmth falls away in one blink. He takes a drink and I take a pull from my beer. He sits the drink down and drills me with an icy tone. “Best to leave rumors alone.”
That answers the question, and my gut clenches. I just hope Al’s not involved. I shouldn’t be thinking that way because knowing and doing nothing about it means he’s involved.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Al.” It’s all I can think to say.
His tone remains like ice. “It wasn’t a heads-up, it was a threat.” With that, he picks up his drink and removes himself from the booth. He walks to the bar without looking back.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I would bury my head in my arms if it wouldn’t make me look weak. I take another pull off my beer. A few minutes later, two more familiar cops walk in. They spot me, but Al calls them over. He’s in this shit deep and of all the people I’d suspect, it would never have been him. He’s counting down to his thirty and said a few years back that he planned to pack up his wife and retire to Florida. Thirty years in means he’ll retire at eighty-five percent of his three highest years of pay. It’s a sweet deal if you can handle things that long.
I stop thinking about Terry’s sweet deal. I’ve played my hand to the wrong person. Fuck. I’m done here. I place a few dollars on the table, leave half a beer behind, and walk out. The blue-crew with Al gives me not so much as a head nod.
I walk around the building to the side lot and spot one of Moon’s Caddies across the street. Not that there aren’t other black Caddies in Phoenix, I just sense the crime lord’s presence. Over-dramatic, that’s me. I’m not dealing with this shit right now. I turn the key and start Sally’s engine. I drive toward my apartment thinking about what just happened. Sure enough, the Caddy follows.
In twenty-four hours, my life has gone from putting some much needed money in the bank to shit on a stick. Al’s into something with Kennedy and that something isn’t good. And to top it off, I have a stalker. Not just any stalker. This one makes Al and Kennedy and whatever they’re up to look like chicken scratch.
It’s a twenty minute drive home. I pay more attention to the black vehicle behind me than I should. I’ve got to park in my spot and hightail it into my apartment before the car stops and Moon gets out. This doesn’t make me happy. I decide to drive a tad evasively five minutes from my apartment and buy myself some time. They don’t know where I’m heading and it just might work. If I receive a traffic ticket, I’ll send the bill to Moon.
I slide through a mostly red light, though it did have a flash of yellow. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I give a sigh of relief when I squeal Sally into her assigned spot, crank the parking brake, and throw open the door. I’m across the parking lot and almost to the building when the Caddy rolls in as calm as you please. Too damn bad. I’m not opening my door after I’m inside. If Moon insists, I’ll call the police. Well, that’s not true, but I’ll threaten it through my locked door.
I’m breathing heavily by the time I close the door behind me. My apartment’s mostly dark with only the overhead stove light on which is about ten feet away. Facing the door, I secure the deadbolt and chain and then rest my forehead against the wood. My heart is racing like I ran a marathon. Nothing alerts me to a presence in my apartment until my hips are grabbed by two large hands. A scream bursts from my throat as I slam my head back into whoever’s behind me. I connect and hear a slight grunt. I use my hands to push off the door. I bend at the waist so my ass pushes the person back. He’s big and I need room to maneuver. I’m off balance now and reaching for my gun. I spin and kick out at the person’s knee. This time, I don’t connect. I’m slammed backward against the door and it’s Moon’s body that presses against mine. He jerks his head back when I try to head-butt him in the nose. I can just make out his bloody mouth caused from my head-butt. His eyes are laughing and that’s reinforced when he grins. Now, after all I went through when I woke up in his house, I get a grin. Fuck him.
I struggle. It does no good and he manages to grab my wrists. I use everything I have to fight, but he easily lifts my hands above my head and presses them against the door.
“Is this how you always greet your dates?” he asks with a husky drawl.
I am so damned pissed. “You’ve committed burglary and assault and stalking. Nothing about you being here comes close to a date.”
He dips his head and his nose touches mine. This is the first time we’ve stood toe to toe; I realize he’s got to be six one or two. I’m five foot five inches with an inch heel on my boots and I’m craning my head to look up at him. I’m breathing hard and I swear if he kisses me, I’ll bite him. He holds me like this for a minute. A very… long… minute. He moves back slightly, and lowers my hand to his mouth. He kisses my knuckles without taking his eyes from mine. Somehow it’s more intimate than kissing my lips. I glance down at my hand and see his blood smeared on the back of my fingers. When I look up, Moon’s eyes are locked on my mouth.
I shove him. His body is like a fucking rock and he doesn’t budge for three seconds. Then, he takes one step back and the pressure on my chest eases. He releases my hands and I feel ridiculously stupid because I don’t jerk the one above my head immediately down.
I stare at him. Jeans and a blue T-shirt that matches his eyes are not what I’d ever expect to see him in. The muscles of his arms are no longer hidden beneath a dress shirt. He’s ripped and so fucking hot.
I mentally slap myself. This thug broke into my apartment, physically assaulted me, and I’m thinking with my damned sex organs again. I need to pull my gun and shoot his ass. With this thought, my hand goes to my waistband. He smiles again and I squeeze my thighs tightly against the effect this has on me.
“You need to leave,” I say breathlessly.
His eyes slowly travel back to my lips and he whispers, “I want to stay.”
He’s certifiably crazy. Through gritted teeth, I warn, “I don’t like repeating myself and I won’t press charges if you leave. Now.” His smile disappears. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, pull your gun.” I close my eyes in frustration and then realize what I’ve done and open them again. My gun isn’t the problem; his damned guns aka ripped arms, are. No one involved in crime should have a body like Moon’s. His cologne drifts over me and I inhale deeply. Somehow he’s found that perfect match that accents his natural man-smell. Add in his blue eyes, which capture everything going on around him, and I’m having heart palpitations that have nothing to do with my apartment being broken into. I pull in another long breath to gain a small semblance of control. I’m unwilling to stand and point a damn gun at him now, and that pisses me off. He removes his cell from his pocket, backs a couple of feet away, and speaks to whoever’s on the other end. “Order for two from El Tiempo and pick
The chime of Moon’s phone stops him from answering my question. He places his glass on the small side table, twists up a bit, and takes his cell from his pocket. He checks the screen and like a teenage pro, sends a message. He looks up at me after sending it. “Alex is here with our food.” At the thought of El Tiempo, my stomach rumbles. Moon cocks an eyebrow. Hell even that’s sexy. I stand up when I hear a soft knock at my front door. “Sit. I’ll get it and bring everything over here,” he says as he heads to my door, like he owns it, and opens it for Gomez. Moon takes the food and I see Gomez peer at me over Moon’s shoulder. I can’t identify the exact look he gives me, and I tell myself that I don’t care. So what if Gomez is impressed with the way I handle myself. That and a dollar will buy me an ice-cold Slurpee. Moon closes the door with his elbow while holding the bag in one hand and a six-pack of Corona in the other. It reminds me that I was being observed inside the bar. It’s s
I stare at the dark television for ten minutes. This solves nothing. I check the sliding glass door that leads to my very small patio. It has a broken broomstick in the bottom rail so it can only slide open after removing it. The locking mechanism, which I check too, is a piece of crap. I head to the front door and lock it. I walk to my bedroom to go through my pre-sleep ritual. After a quick shower, I slip into one of my large shapeless tees. Brushing, flossing and moisturizer are next. I lie down in bed and turn off the lamp. When I close my eyes, I picture Moon—his reticent smile, his intense eyes, and his sexy as hell bod. My girl parts are ramped up and it’s all Moon’s fault. With a groan, I roll over and grab the purple wonder from the drawer beside my bed. I hit the switch and then lift and spread my knees. I place the vibration against my clit. The purple wonder twirls and vibrates, hitting the spot perfectly. I slide it through my folds and back to my clit while imagining Mo
Sweat drips down my brow and my tee is soaked. My brown BDUs are damp too. I need water, so I walk back to Sally for my water bottle. It was completely frozen when I left the apartment earlier. It’s lukewarm now. I take a healthy swallow. I search for Mama Kane for an hour, but I can’t find her. A homeless man I’m unfamiliar with tells me she’s at Veterans hospital. Her goat went with animal control. I head to the hospital and receive bad news. Someone assaulted Mama Kane and she’s in critical condition. A nurse tells me that no one has visited her and that I’m the first to ask how she’s doing. It’s so incredibly sad. As a cop, I was limited in what I could do. The homeless are considered a problem. It was my job to keep them in line. Don’t get me wrong, I helped where I could. It’s never enough, though. The nurse tells me that the cops want to know when she dies. This should make me angry, but I know it means the detectives have a suspect. If Mama Kane dies, the charges will chang
Moon has pulled me so close that his face is inches from mine. “I locked it after I opened the door so it auto locks and I don’t have a key,” I say on a slow breath. “I have a key. Christ, you smell so good,” he murmurs and runs his nose across my cheek. I would tell him the same thing, but the information about him having my key stops me cold. “You made copies of my keys?” I knew he must have, I just didn’t expect him to admit it. His hand glides down my body until he cups my ass. He ignores my question. “I just needed to see you for a moment and do this…” His lips crash down on mine. He isn’t gentle. I forget about the keys. Hell, I forget that I’m outside in my short shorts. The kiss is hungry and wet, dominating and sexual. He tastes so damn good. He backs off and runs his tongue across my lips. “I’ve fantasized for the past two nights about you, like this.” He deepens the kiss. His tongue slips around mine and I moan. He pulls me closer and presses his erection into my lower
I don’t recognize the voice right away. “Mak, please.” It’s Penny Dandridge. “What’s wrong, Penny?” I ask her softly. She sounds desperate and it helps clear my foggy thoughts. “I need you to pick me up,” she says between tears while gasping for breath. This isn’t good, and I’m rethinking a cement foundation for her soon-to-be ex-husband. “Okay, have you called the police?” “No police.” Pure distress is clear in her answer. “Don’t call them, please. I just need you to pick me up.” Well, hell. I will most likely change my mind and call the police after I discover what condition she’s in. “Are you safe?” “Ye…yes. I’m safe. I’m in Heber. At the cabin in Heber. I need, just need a ride.” “Okay,” I get up and head to my desk. “Give me your address. It’ll take about two hours to get there.” I scribble the address. “Thank you, Mak… I’m so sorry.” She hangs up. Her voice sounded incredibly sad. I, on the other hand, am pissed off. If I had my hands on Harry Dandridge right now, he’d
“Madison?” Moon asks groggily. Relief swamps me and I try not to cry. This does no good and tears of relief fall from my eyes. “I’m hurt,” is all I can manage to say and even that’s shaky. “Shh,” Moon whispers. His voice is my lifeline and I only cry harder. “Where are you?” Another round of trembling hits me. I suck air into my lungs and try to control myself enough to speak. “Between Payson and Heber…” My teeth continue to chatter and once again, I breathe. “I’m about a hundred yards down the side of the mountain.” “Jesus.” I hear movement and then my eyes jump left and right in case whoever did this has decided to come after me. “How bad are you hurt?” he finally asks. The words are filled with concern, though I can hear the suppressed anger behind them. I concentrate on Moon’s question and manage to speak coherently. “Bleeding. It’s a head wound. I went over right after the second s-turn about fifteen minutes or so outside of Payson.” His voice changes from concern to deadl
I wait until I actually hear him. At the sound of his voice, my body goes lax. I need to stand, but I’m unable to send the message to my legs. “Moon,” I groan. Flashlights are fanned out in four directions and they zero in on the sound of my croaky voice. Moon gets to me first and goes to his knees beside me. I wince when the flashlights blind me. “Move the lights off her,” Moon snaps. All but the one he’s holding move away. He tips his down. Bad cop, I want to tell him. Always limit their vision. I’m not a cop, though, and Moon most definitely isn’t either. “Speak to me, baby.” He pushes the hair from my face. I feel nauseated and I only manage to mumble this information. He must understand because he wraps his arm around my chest and keeps me from falling face first into vomit as my guts heave onto the ground beside me. He offers a soothing chorus of words until he calls me “baby” again. “Don’t call me that,” I say stupidly. It’s the shame of him holding me while I toss my cooki