Big Bad Easy (3 page)

Other people passed him, couples walking together. An elderly lady walking her dog. Lots of dogs with people of all shapes and sizes. Bikers whizzing beside all of them. He crossed them off the list for now, and focused on the walkers and joggers. An old man practiced a violin as he sat on a bench. His gnarled fingers could barely hold the bow, and based on his posture, the man couldn’t walk very well either. This was not the thief.

Two people with oversized shirts and baggy pants strolled toward him, and his suspicion meter tripped. He slowed, then stopped at the pull up bar nestled beneath the live oaks that shaded this part of the path. He wanted to get a bead on these guys. They didn’t fit in the milieu of people in the park.

As he did pull-ups, he watched the young men. They laughed, talked, pointed to their phones. Even though a group of women wearing revealing jogging shorts and tops pranced by them, those boys didn’t give them much of a glance. Nope, those weren’t the ones he wanted to catch.

With a dozen pull-ups done, he stretched his arms and his hamstrings so that he could continue his circuit of the park. He heard footsteps close, too close. He tensed and whipped around to face whoever came toward him. He dropped his guard as soon as he recognized the body. Zara Robinson. A hat, sunglasses, and flirty running skirt couldn’t disguise that woman’s physique. Seeing more of her made him appreciate the work she put into those muscles. She must look amazing naked, and she probably had the stamina to fuck him senseless. He’d love to find out if she could.

“Didn’t expect to see you,” she said as she jogged beside him.

He should have told her that he planned to do some plain clothes work. Not that these were plain clothes. “I’m not here as me. You probably shouldn’t even act like you know me.”

“Why not?” She cocked her head to the side. When she realized why she made an O with her mouth. “The cases? You’re working?”

“Yes. I’ll let you finish your jog, and I’ll go about mine.”

“Oh, let me go with you. I’ve already let my group go without me. They’re stopping at one lap, and I want to do more. Something kept me from my normal run yesterday.”

“What was that?”

“Meeting with you. When it comes between exercise and my job, I have to choose the money-making part. I feel like I should find a way to exercise and make money, but that means more education. Anyway, something had to give. I wasn’t waiting one more day to have something done on my case. I want that guy caught.”

“Fine.” He’d let her jog with him. “We met somewhere else, though. I might be here more than just today. Let’s go.” He motioned for her to go, and she trotted off, faster than he’d like for watching who was around him. He needed more oxygen to think and process faces and attitudes.

“How’s this pace?”

“If I weren’t looking at people, fine, but not while I’m trying to see who’s here.”

She slowed, and he matched her stride “I can help you with that. Heck, I’ve introduced myself to many of these people.”

“Is that normal for you?”

“No. It’s been my thing over the past three weeks. I was doing my own detective work.”

He envisioned her jogging up to someone sitting on a bench taking a break, her muscles on display. All she’d have to do to many of these people is flex one bicep, and they would run as fast as they can away from her. Running beside her slightly intimidated him. Only her breasts bounced. The muscles in her shoulders and back rippled with each casual movement of her arms. “Or just intimidating them.”

“Maybe. There’s nothing wrong with a little bravado. Maybe I’ve already met him, and he won’t do it again.” She shrugged her shoulders. “A girl can hope.”

Damn. He wanted to feel the skin of her shoulders with that light sheen of sweat and then lick it off, tasting her saltiness. “Hope all you want, but this guy is probably a career criminal. You’ve met him, or seen him, but you didn’t know it.”

A group of women jogged past them, and Zara waved. “Do you think it’s a man?”

“Yep. Not like a woman to smash the window of a stranger. A lover? Yeah, but not to get money. Men do that physical stuff. We like smashing things.”

She elbowed and glanced at him. “Anyone tripped your trigger?”

You
, he wanted to answer. Sweaty and barely clothed. He liked her that way. Damn. He needed to get laid. He had to stop thinking about her. No more thoughts of licking the sweat from between her breasts. “Not for long. Those guys might.” He nodded to where two younger men, skinny, dressed in jeans, leaned on a play structure.

“Not Marcus and Tim. They’re harmless.”

“How do you know?” Both of them had the look of druggies, maybe meth heads. Those people always looked for money. Always.

“I know them. They work at my local.” Her tone went from light to dismissive with a bit of anger.

“Your local what?” He turned to look at her instead of at the men lounging in that ne’er-do-well way so prevalent around the city.

“You know, local bar.” She shot him a look that teenagers perfected as they grunted “duh” to their parents.

He returned the look. “Who calls it that?”

“I guess us Northeasterners do.” She moved closer to him to avoid an oncoming dad with a stroller.

When her arm brushed against his, her cool sweat mixed with his, hot from exertion even with the mild October weather. The touch sent a shock to his cock, which he wouldn’t have thought possible as he exercised. Activity was his way of steering clear from complicated relationships. Perhaps it was like a drug that had stopped working. He either needed more exercise or sex with Zara, and the last one wasn’t an option. She probably wouldn’t even consider it with her low opinion of cops. He glanced at the woman. Tall, blonde, medium sized breasts jiggling in time with her legs.

“Ah, um.” He struggled to think of anything but her sweaty, naked breasts bouncing as she rode his dick. He coughed to cover his moan of desire. Hell, he’d never wanted any woman this badly, not even that curvy, burlesque dancer he’d dated for a while.

“Sergeant?”

That title brought him out of his fantasy. “Call me James.”

“I thought it was Jameson.”

“It is.”

“I’ll call you that,” she said, as if she didn’t need permission from him. “I like it better.”

“Fine with me.” Back to his analytical mind, which he could keep only if he didn’t chance a glance at the paragon of fitness beside him. He asked about the young men she said shouldn’t be suspects. “Where do they work? Which one is your local bar?”

She told him, and he wondered why she chose that one. There were classier bars along the same street that was full of boutiques, restaurants, and pubs. But, people gravitated to different places based on criteria that varied so widely. He’d have to walk into the place to see what vibe it carried. She’d said she was from up north, so maybe she liked the industrial feel or something he’d not noticed about the joint. He’d definitely go check out the place and maybe ask the manager about Marcus and Tim. She might not suspect them, but he did. In fact, out of everyone he’d seen today, those two were at the top.

“You can also count out that guy.” She nudged him with her elbow, sending another shiver of need through him.

A man in his late-thirties, average height and black hair walked toward them with his arms out in a stretching movement. “You sure? He doesn’t even look dressed for exercise.”

“Yeah, that was my first thought, but then I talked to him. He’s simple. You know.” She gestured with her hands, but he shook his head unable to catch her meaning. “Mentally challenged, low IQ. He’s mimicking all of us, and it’s not an act. He’s like this with everyone. I even met his caretaker.”

“I always say special needs, seems to cover a lot.” A worry niggled at him. “You may want to stop approaching people that you suspect. What if you’re right one day, and the man recognizes you? He might decide you need shutting up, and that doesn’t always mean killing you.”

“Aren’t you an optimist?”

“Realist. Years have taught me that. You’re an Amazon, but a crazed man thinking he’s caught won’t care a thing about that.”

She grunted and pursed her lips. Her feet shuffled a bit. “All right, but I won’t promise anything. I’m obsessed with this.”

“Now I’m on the case. Stop obsessing. I’ll find who did it. I always do.”

“Have you ever not solved a case?”

She just had to ask that. She had to bring to mind the one murder case he’d been lead on that had stumped all of them. He’d asked to be reassigned after a year of no real leads and huge scandal producing dead ends. After one bar fight with the brother of a suspect, the captain granted his request. For the past five years, Jameson had only taken the cases not involving murders. He counted that case as the one that broke him. “Just one.”

“A pretty good track record then. I’ll see what I can do about turning my obsession onto something else.”

He couldn’t keep himself from fishing. Who kept this woman entertained at night? “I’m sure the boyfriend would appreciate your attention.”

“Don’t have one, and I’m not looking. Men are too much trouble in the long term, and I should know since I spent so much time around a platoon of them.”

There went his idea of spending more time with her once he caught the thief. He could still fantasize about her, and he was sure he would this evening. First, he’d focus on the line that separated her quads from her hamstrings on those long, muscular legs. He’d trace that line, massage the muscles, and lick his way up those luscious legs all the way to her pussy.

“So,” she shoved him with her elbow again, “got anyone that you’re gonna track down?”

“A few suspects, and I’m meeting with the managers of a few stores today to check if they still have their video feeds from three weeks ago.” He stopped jogging since he’d made his circuit of the park and planned to pop out some pushups and sit-ups at the pavilion near the parking lot where all the break-ins happened. “I’m going to case the place a little longer here, shower up, and hit the exciting world of video monitors.”

The smile she shot him was the biggest he ever seen, and it transformed her into a beauty with glowing cheeks. He suspected her eyes sparkled, too, but with the sunglasses, he couldn’t tell. “You’re really working on this. Awesome.” Without warning or without asking permission, she launched herself at him with wide arms. She caught him in a full body hug.

Her breasts pressed against his chest and her hot breath heated his neck as she squeezed harder. With her arms wrapped around his upper arms, he couldn’t disengage her, and he didn’t want to let her go. She released her grip, grabbed his face, and planted a sweaty kiss on his cheek. He steadied himself by taking hold of her waist, which fit so perfectly into his hands. From here, he could explore up or down and forget that he had a job to do.

“Thank you.” She kissed the other side of his face. “Thank you for doing something. This makes me crazy happy.”

His fingers touched the place where her lips had been. Heat radiated from that spot and filled him with renewed need for her. “You’re welcome, but save the real thanks for when we catch the guy.” He searched his memory for the rules of fraternizing and came up blank. He’d love to tango with this lady. “I may return tomorrow, so don’t call me sergeant then.”

She dropped her hands and stepped farther away from him, but still close enough that he could smell the salt of her sweat. “So, how did I meet you? We’ll need a cover story.”

“I’d say at your local—gonna have to use that as my new term—but those guys would know better. Let’s say a coffee shop, and that’s close enough to the truth. We discussed exercising, and you shared your story about the break in.” After he looked at the videos from the stores, he was going straight to the bar she frequented. Those guys were at the top of his suspect list.

As if they knew he was thinking of them, the men in question walked by them. “Hey, Zara, haven’t seen you at the bar lately.” That one talked in the
yat
accent of the region, so called because they turned the words you and at into
yat
. It was normal to hear people on the phone asking the person on the other end, “Where y’at?”

“Been busy.” She still wore a smile, although it had changed from the wide one of elation to a normal, friendly smile. “I’ll be by today. I’m gonna celebrate some good news.”

“What’s that?”

Jameson hoped he covered his surprise as she threaded her arm through his and proclaimed, “Scoring a new training partner. This is James.”

The thinner guy who’d done all the talking narrowed his eyes and jerked his head back in surprise. “You celebrate things like that?”

“Well, yeah.” This time she slipped her arm around Jameson’s shoulders, and he made it look natural by putting his arm around her waist. He wished he could make this an everyday occurrence. “This means something to me. It’s like going back to my younger days. He’ll push me further, make me awesome.”

The one who’d stayed silent said, “You’re awesome already.”

“Marcus, you’re so nice. See you guys later.” When they walked on, she said to Jameson, “I hope you don’t mind that I expanded the story.”

“No. Not at all.” He’d found his thoughts in the naughty category as soon as she said that he would push her farther. He imagined sweaty bodies after a workout, showering together, and then burying his cock inside her dripping wet pussy. Zara Robinson had officially transformed him into a crazed sex fiend.

“I work out tomorrow for real, like the pushups, step-ups, jumping, all that. Join me? 7:30?”

Blood rushed to his dick as he realized that he could see her again in an official capacity. Not even the captain could harp on him for agreeing. “Yeah. That’s something I can do.”

“Great.” She jogged off backwards. “It’s a date. Meet me at the entrance.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Man, was he. He needed a cold shower to remove the sweat, but mostly to cool him down after the hotness of the woman whose ass looked great in a tight, black jogging skirt. Jameson was ending his career on the perfect easy case. If he played his cards right, he’d not only have a good retirement, he’d have a woman by his side and in his bed.