Dirty (31 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Saturday evening at seven p.m. the girls gathered at my place.
 
I’d had a few hours to consider what I had to do and, for this, I needed the help of my gal pals.

“Okay, Jackie, how can we help you?”
 
Mary Jane stared up at me expectantly her eyes made even bigger by the thick lens of her glasses.
 
She’d made herself at home on one end of the sofa.

Shari had staked a claim on the velvet slipper chair.
 
She’d made the drinks, JD and Coke.
 
Donna occupied the end of the sofa opposite Mary Jane.

“First.”
 
Donna held up her glass to garner everyone’s attention.
 
She looked especially good tonight in her black jeans and vintage beaded cashmere sweater held together by a simple clasp between her breasts.
 
Very chic.
 
“I’m going to be a selfish bitch,” she said petulantly.
 
“We’ve been waiting to hear about the date with Tony.”
 
She directed that analyzing gaze at me.
 
“Come clean and then we’ll get down to business.”

I suddenly wished for a cigar and poker cards.
 
Anything to occupy my hands and to avoid this subject.
 
“This isn’t confession night,” I argued.
 
I still had forty-eight hours for someone besides me to royally screw up.

Shari uncrossed her legs with as much fanfare as Sharon Stone in
Basic Instinct
and stood, taking control of the floor.
 
She obviously had a late date after this, faded jeans and a cream silk camisole with silver lace trim gloved her body like someone had screen printed it on her skin.
 
She looked like a movie star.
 
A very sexy one.
 
I felt way under dressed in my Cowboys tee and hole-in-the-knee jeans (which, by the way, had not come that way from the GAP—I’d earned that hole on my knees searching through mountains of files on various cases).

“I,” Shari said when she felt certain all attention focused on her, “want to know why you haven’t told us about the cemetery incident.”

Three sets of eyes bored into me and synchronized
do tell’s
echoed.
 
The round-eyed naive act was too much.
 
They already suspected that, no matter what any of them did during the next forty-eight hours, I was the one.

“Just give me the fucking prize and be done with it,” I snapped.

Giggles erupted.
 
I scarcely held back my own when I really thought about it.
 
It wasn’t every day a girl got buried alive.

“Come on, Jackie, don’t be a
beotch
,” Donna cooed with a wink.
 
“Tell, tell.
 
You know Hobbs will if you don’t.”

I asked myself every day why I let him live.
 
Irritation shrunk faster than a hard-on after a cold shower.
 
No point in working up a head of steam.
 
I always ended up forgiving the ratfink.
 
I had to.
 
I depended on him for way too much to pretend otherwise.

I chugged down a healthy slug of JD and Coke and wiped my mouth.
 
I curled up in the chair opposite Shari and told them the story they wanted to hear without leaving out so much as a single detail, well except for the dead woman.
 
I still wasn’t prepared to share Disposable with them, too dangerous.
 
I kind of understood just a little about how Warren Rayburn must have felt when he’d talked to his partner before disappearing.
 
There was only so much I could risk letting them in on.

I’d spent the whole day after Dawson’s revelations and Hank’s return deciding how to handle what needed to be done.
 
There were two things I needed to do and I couldn’t do both without a little help from my friends.
 

Dead silence radiated in the air for what felt like forever when I finished relating my story.

Donna was the first to recover.
 
“Oh, my God!
 
Are you sure you’re okay?”
 
Incredibly, she actually looked concerned.

“To hell with that,” Shari blurted out, “you made this guy come while he still had his clothes on?
 
Oh, my God!”

Mary Jane sat perfectly still with her lower jaw somewhere in the vicinity of her lap.

“I’m fine,” I said to Donna, and “Yes,” in answer to Shari.

When Mary Jane still didn’t speak, I winced.
 
“You okay?”

She snapped her mouth shut and nodded before quickly jumping up to get my prize.

Until she sat that shiny white bag in my lap I hadn’t questioned why they had brought along the faux pas award tonight.
 
Suspicion narrowed my gaze.
 
“Tell me you didn’t already know this story.”
 
I looked from one to the other, all blinking like innocent little Bambis suddenly caught in a hunter’s spotlight.

“We didn’t.”
 
Shari was the first to fess up.
 
“I only knew the gist of it because I wrangled it out of Hobbs when I called to see how your date with Tony went.
 
But we did already know about Tony.”

“He called,” Donna explained, her tone less than sympathetic.
 
“Claimed you ran out on him after he’d been so nice to you.”
 
She made a rude noise in her throat.
 
“Apparently he thought you owed him since he fed you.
 
He needs to get real and find a good shrink.”

My shock must have been showing for Mary Jane waved her hand to get my attention.
 
“I thought something luxurious would make you feel better after putting up with that poop head.”

Well, Tony had definitely been a poop head.
 
“Thanks, girls.
 
Just promise me one thing.”
 
I surveyed the well-meaning group.
 
“No more blind dates.”

Promises flew from the lips of all and I knew they would abide by that promise at least until we’d all forgotten about this latest disaster.

The award bag contained a set of the newest scents from our favorite bath and body store.
 
I hugged all three and then chilled out long enough to have a second drink. The conversation moved to the mundane, which was nice for a change, but didn’t last long.
 
I had business with these girls, they understood that.

“So, what’s up?” Donna ventured when we were all feeling warm and cozy. “Is this about your mystery man?”

“I still can’t talk about him yet,” I said, hoping they wouldn’t be too disappointed.
 
“But I do need your help.
 
Besides,” I grinned, “I just love your company.”

“If you say time with us is better than sex,” Donna challenged, “I’ll have to take your temperature.”

Mary Jane remained oddly quiet, even after a second drink.
 
That worried me but we all had our off days.

“The man I need to snare, professionally speaking, is far too slippery to trap by any conventional methods,” I began.

“Oooo!
 
I love unconventional,” Shari chimed in.

“So I’m going to go through an associate of his.”

Donna slapped her thigh.
 
“Hot dog!
 
I love it!
 
Triangles are the best.”

I was banking on that.

“The strongest connection this associate and I had was in the sack,” I explained.
 
“I figure that’s the place to get him.”

“We need a profile,” Shari suggested.
 
“You know, like those FBI agents use to interrogate certain suspects.”

Exactly.

“Well, that’s easy,” Donna offered as she set her drink aside.
 
“Give me a list of his personality traits.”
 
She gave me a look that said don’t even try to lie out of this.
 
“Let’s cut to the chase here.
 
You’re talking about Willis, right?”

I should have known I wouldn’t be able to keep that part a secret.
 
“That’s right, but that’s all I can tell you.
 
The whole situation is too unpredictable right now.
 
I don’t want to take the risk.”
 
I didn’t like holding back like this, but there were too many variables and I refused to endanger my friends.
 
I might be annoyed at Hank, but he had a point.
 
Two people were dead already.
 
“I hope you understand.”

Faces turned somber but all heads nodded in agreement.
 
Mary Jane popped up from the sofa. “I’ll get a pen and paper.”

I relaxed a little more when she jumped into the fray and started to act more like herself.

The next hour was spent ticking off the traits I had noticed about Willis, doing a lot of laughing, and analyzing what his every move and every comment said about him.

The consensus was unanimous.
 
Willis was a man who might have been great had he not gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
 
Now, with his self-preservation instincts in high gear, he was a puppet.
 
A puppet I intended to use.

The plan was simple.
 
I would set up the perfect seduction and suck his brain for information on Brooks while leaving his dick to wither all on its own.
 
And planting the right seeds to prompt a response out of Brooks.

“There’s one more thing I need,” I said, feeling like a lowdown dirty dog for taking this tactic.
 
But I had to be sure.
 
I looked from one to the other knowing I could trust these women with my very life.
 
“I need someone keeping an eye on my uncle at all times.”

That stunned silence I’d gotten after telling the cemetery story permeated the room all over again.

Donna came to terms with what my request meant before anyone else.
 
“I know how much you love your uncle, Jackie, so I’m not even going to ask why.
 
Just tell me what I need to do.”

Relief lifted the rock from my chest.
 
“I’m afraid he’s trying to protect me and that need to do so is coloring his objectivity...might even get him hurt.”

“I’m in,” Shari interjected, her face looking more worried than I’d ever seen it.

“Me, too,” Mary Jane piped up.

“Just keep under his radar,” I told them, “and stay on his tail.
 
I need to know where he goes and who he talks to. Nothing more.
 
Don’t try to get close to him.
 
Don’t try to listen in on any conversations.
 
Just tell me who and where, that’s it.”

Heads bobbed up and down.

“Starting tonight if possible.”
 
That could be a toughie since it was Saturday night.

Mary Jane raised her hand.
 
“I can do tonight.
 
I don’t have a date.”

God bless the woman.
 
“Thanks, Mary Jane.
 
I really appreciate it.”

“You will tell us everything,” Donna pinned me down, “when this is over?”

As I made that promise my doorbell rang and we all glanced at the clock at the same time.

“Oh Lord!”
 
Shari jumped up.
 
“It’s after nine.
 
I have to meet...” she waggled her eyebrows “...someone.”

While I trudged to the door Shari exchanged goodbyes with the others.
 
She sounded excited.
 
Must have a night with yoga guy on her itinerary.

I opened the door without checking the peep hole first since I wasn’t alone and I had too much of a buzz going to be afraid.
 
Besides, I was packing Shorty in my waistband.

“I hope I’m not intruding.”

Dawson.

Shit.
 
I looked like hell.

“Who’s this?” Shari purred from behind me.
 
She knew damn well who he was. I’d described him in infinite detail days ago.

“Come on in,” I said to Dawson.

He stepped across the threshold as if he feared he might be about to enter enemy territory.
 
If he only knew.

I closed the door and leaned against it.
 
No need to hurry.
 
Shari had already grabbed him by the arm and hauled him toward the others who all stood in anticipation of meeting my new partner.

My heart foolishly skipped a beat, as was par for the course in his presence.
 
And as usual, he looked too damned good for my own good.
 
Body hugging jeans and a loosely tucked in button-down shirt that left everything to the imagination.
 
But one look at the muscled forearms revealed by the rolled up shirt sleeves and the imagination went wild.

And I, I glanced down at myself, looked like a slob.

What the hell?
 
It was better this way.
 
If I couldn’t ward him off one way, I would another.
 
Besides, what rational woman wanted to compete with the memory of a supermodel?
 
I had just enough JD in me to not give a shit about Mercedes whatever-the-fuck-her-name was.

I pushed off the door at the same time he introduced himself.
 
“Dawson,” he said in that perfectly pitched for temptation voice, “Derrick Dawson.
 
I work with Jac–I’m Ms. Mercer’s new investigator.”

Donna fluttered her lashes.
 
I witnessed it all the way across the room.
 
She’d already known his name when she asked.
 
“Jackie’s told us all about you, Derrick.”