Moving_Violations (8 page)

As Jackson watched, Jacob’s thrusts increased. The sound of balls slapping against a rounded ass filled the air. The woman jerked, arched, her head was thrown back as she began to beg in desperation for release. Then she was crying out, her body stiffening as Jacob drove into her hard, deep. The sounds of their mingled climaxes had Jackson shifting uncomfortably. Damn if he hadn’t wished he had gone back to the jeep instead.

The woman’s cries were much too reminiscent of Becca, reminding him how tight and hot her cunt was around his flesh. He sure hoped she got over her mad soon.

“Dammit, Jack, this ain’t no peep show.” Jacob was breathing hard as he moved away from the woman, jerking her skirt over her exposed flesh, then fastening his jeans quickly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He helped the woman from the table, shielding her face with his big body as she fought to fix her clothes. He whispered something to her; Jackson couldn’t make out the 38

Moving Violations

words. But there was a surprising edge of tenderness as Jacob touched her cheek, kissed her brow quickly.

“Taking notes.” Jackson grinned. “That’s some fine form you got going there, my friend. I say you should give lessons.”

The brawny ex-cop frowned back at him, his brown eyes narrowing dangerously as he stood in front of the woman. Then he turned back to her, tucked a strand of hair back from her face and sighed heavily.

“Go on inside.” He nodded at the open back door. “I’ll be there as soon as I shove this bastard off my mountain.”

The woman flushed, tugging her blouse closed and rushing away from Jackson’s curious gaze.

“You used to have better manners,” Jacob grunted angrily as he sprawled out in one of the large, wooden chairs beneath the shade of a nearby tree. “What the hell happened?”

Jackson flushed, but fought to ignore it.

“And you used to hear better.” Jackson shrugged. “Must have been a while for you if you didn’t hear me cursing you as I came up this mountain.”

“I heard your jeep. You need a tune up,” Jacob snarled. “Now what the hell are you doing here?”

Jackson walked over to a matching chair and sat down heavily. He needed Jacob’s help; he couldn’t afford to alienate him right now.

“I heard a report there’s illegals hiding somewhere in my county. I thought I’d head up here and see if you’ve noticed anything.” If anyone knew, it would be Jacob.

Jacob grunted sarcastically. “Lot of things go on in these mountains.”

That was the damned truth. It was becoming dangerous to even attempt hunting anymore.

“Yep, and you seem to know who’s doing the better part of it and where they can be found,” Jackson said, watching his friend thoughtfully.

Jacob shrugged.

“Heard you have a new officer.” The other man grinned tightly, his brown eyes sharp.

Jackson sighed and relaxed back in his chair. He didn’t know what the hell kind of game Jacob was playing, but evidently he knew something after all.

“Yeah. I do.”

“I hear that pretty little thing left the Wild Rose with a redneck sheriff her first night in, and he followed her right fast to her new house and spent the night. You shootin’ for trouble with Mayor ‘Fancypants’ or just stumbling into it?”

Jackson felt a strange sense of unease at Jacob’s words.

“If there’s trouble, then I guess I’ve stumbled into it,” he said with a smile. “But damn, Jacob, that little lady would be more than worth it.”

Jacob sighed wearily, glancing at the house.

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“Yeah, some of ‘em are worth it.” He swiped his fingers through his overly long blonde hair, then ran his hand over his scarred chest.

The burns had healed, but the scars were still there. A reminder of the fiery crash that had nearly taken his life. The tall blonde hulk had been one of the best-damned detectives in Nashville until he came upon a few dirty cops, and a drug deal. One of the cops had been his fiancée, the other her lover.

“Now what the hell’s going on?” Jackson leaned forward, watching his friend expectantly. “And don’t bother to tell me you don’t know anything.”

Jacob shook his head. “I don’t have anything concrete yet,” he told him. “But that sweet thing plying her wares in the house seems to be after the same thing, but different agenda. I think she’s a journalist, but I can’t be sure. She swears she’s a lawyer. And there’s some damned strange movement around the camping area outside of Jericho, up around Sid Carter’s place. I just haven’t been able to get away from Sweet Thing long enough to check it out.”

The camping area in question was a government deal, but privately run. It was set back from the main road, the camping spots situated for privacy. Through the summer, RV’s of every shape and size made use of it.

“In the camping area?” Jackson asked him quietly.

“No.” Jacob shook his head. “Back along the mountain there are some damned hideaways easily accessible to a SUV or four-wheel drive. The caves run for miles, and it would make a hell of a hiding place. But you’d have to know where to go looking.”

Jackson grimaced.

“Have you seen anyone out that way?”

Jacob scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “Seen some strangers, a few Middle Eastern types about a month back, then they just disappeared. A week later Miss Hot Pants shows up and we’ve been going around and around ever since. So far, I don’t know shit.

I just suspect.” Which was damned near the same thing.

“And you didn’t get hold of me for what reason?” Jackson arched a brow with mocking patience. Son of a bitch was getting too damned reclusive.

“Because I wasn’t sure,” Jacob explained mockingly.

“That wouldn’t have stopped you before, Jake,” he bit out. “What the hell’s going on in these mountains, anyway? You used to call me weekly.”

“Yeah, I did.” Jacob nodded, watching him carefully. “Then last time I called you sent that fuck-up Martin out to take a statement. Figured you’d done had enough of me.”

Jackson didn’t bother to hide his surprise.

“This would have been when?” he snapped. “I’ve never sent Martin out here, Jake.”

Jake grimaced. “I wondered about that. Fact is, I left a message while you were out one day that I needed to talk to you about a patch I had found. Next thing I know, Martin is on my doorstep threatenin’ to arrest me for growing it. I played real casual, waited a day or two and went to check it out again. It was gone.”

Jackson was silent. He had received no messages that Jacob had called, no memo, no nothing.

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“Who took the message?” he asked, his voice soft.

Jacob shrugged. “I’m not sure who took it. Said it was Bryan, but didn’t sound much like Bryan. Too old, I thought. But who the hell knows?”

Jackson knew it wasn’t Bryan. If there was one person on the force he knew wouldn’t lie to him, then it was Bryan.

“I have a report that a terrorist was picked up not too long ago, and claimed to have spent some time around here hiding. If we have terrorists using our mountains, Jacob, then no one is safe, anywhere.”

Jacob tapped the fingers of his left hand on the armrest of his seat. He gazed out across the valley, his eyes narrowed, his expression hard.

“You think Whittaker has a game going with those bastards?” he asked Jackson, his voice hard and cold.

“I think it’s possible,” Jackson sighed. “Think you could check the area for me anytime soon?” Jackson glanced toward the house, wondering where Jake’s bit of fluff had gone off to. “If I start nosing around, it could scare them off. I want to know what the hell’s going on and who’s behind it.”

Jacob grinned. “Yeah, I’ll ditch her soon enough. I was just waiting on you to get curious and head up here. Give me a week or two and I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

“Call me on the cell phone, don’t bother with the office,” Jackson told him, standing to his feet, tension radiating along his body. He was being fucked in his own office and it wasn’t sitting well with him. But it was no more than he had expected since taking the job after his uncle’s death. He could only imagine how Tobias had felt.

“Will do.” Jacob nodded. “You watch your back though, buddy. Martin is the mayor’s little ass kisser, and if he’d dirty dealing then you can bet that old bastard is behind it.”

Jackson grunted. He knew that well.

“I’m heading back down then.” He tucked his glasses back on his face, trying to stem the anger flowing through his body.

“I’ll be in touch,” Jacob nodded.

Jackson left the yard and strode quickly back to the jeep. Son of a bitch, just what he needed right now, a fucking conspiracy.

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CHAPTER NINE

Rebecca stomped into the building, her hands fisted at her sides. Her hair was pulled from her bun and she was sure a bruise was blooming along her left cheekbone.

Adrenalin drove her, she’d had enough of this petty “boys’ club” shit and now she was out for blood. Bryan came out of the restroom and almost collided with her on her way to the break room.

He jumped back, his eyes wide as he took in her appearance and expression.

“Damn, Rebecca, what happened?”

“Domestic disturbance. Route 109. The Millers.” She just wanted a cold pop and some ice for her throbbing cheek.

“You shoulda called for back up. Those two are vicious.”

Rebecca gave Bryan a look that had him lifting his hands and taking a step back.

Officers Ed Martin and Roby Davis came through the front door; their noisy jibes and chuckles were like spikes through her skull. She spun around and marched back to where they stood. They turned on her, Ed with his mocking grin. Roby just leered.

“Where the hell were you two?” Her jaw was clenched.

“We was patrolin’, Officer Taylor. What were you doin’?” Ed asked, his hands on his fat hips.

“Cut the shit! I called for back up,” she growled through her teeth, shaking with fury. Fantasies of plowing her fists into their fat faces played in her mind, tempting her.

Her short nails bit into her palms as she fought to keep them at her sides.

“Well yeah, but we was otherwise occupied and couldn’t get to you.” They looked at one another. Ed winked. “‘Sides, Taylor, you’re from the big city, the streets of Detroit. You tellin’ us you couldn’t handle a bickerin’ couple?”

She stared at them both incredulously. Dear God, no one was safe with these two idiots on patrol. “Oh, I handled them, Officers,” she said in a snide tone. “They’re both disarmed and locked up tight in the patrol car for now. Mr. Miller needs stitches.”

Frustration and rage were churning in her stomach. Her cheek stung and her attitude was just getting worse, and if she didn’t get some distance between them she was going to hurt someone. “To hell with it, I need a pop.” She turned to walk away.

“A pop?” Roby asked. “Looks like you done had you a pop, missy.”

That was it, the last straw. The tight grip Rebecca had on her restraint slipped. She whirled around and charged, only to be caught around the waist. She struggled in vain against the steely arm that held her and kicked back, hoping to connect with a shin.

Jackson set Rebecca down, meeting her sharp gaze with one of his own, when she twisted around, fists raised. She rolled her shoulder, breathing heavily through her nose, but dropped her hands. Nevertheless, Jackson laid his hand tightly on her shoulder. He stared at Roby then looked at each of them in turn, his eyes narrowing at Rebecca, then 42

Moving Violations

he looked at Bryan. “What in the hell is going on?” Roby started to answer but quickly shut his mouth with a piercing glare from Jackson.

Ever the peacemaker, Bryan stepped in. “Sheriff, from what I can gather, Officer Taylor answered a call on a domestic disturbance, the Millers again. Anyway, she called for back up and it seems Officers Martin and Davis were otherwise occupied and failed to assist. However, Officer Taylor neutralized the situation and has the Millers in custody. Mr. Miller needs stitches.”

Jackson turned his head and looked at Rebecca. She met his gaze with defiance. His lips were pressed together, the muscle in his jaw pulsed. She assumed his teeth were clenched. He released her shoulder. Her eyes widened as his hand cupped her face and she winced as he ran his thumb over the bruise. The electric current that ran through her at his touch contrasted with the anger she felt that he would touch her like that in front of fellow officers. She pulled away and he let his hand drop.

“I’ll expect your full report, Officer Taylor, today.” He turned to the officers who stood scowling at Rebecca. “You left a fellow officer in danger? You’d better have a damn good reason for it. Matthews, help Martin and Davis get Mrs. Miller into the holding cell.” Then turning to the two officers, “After you’ve taken Mr. Miller for his stitches and get him squared away, I want to see you both in my office. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Roby muttered.

“My office. Now, Rebecca!” He turned and walked away.

Rebecca watched him walk to his office. He left the door open, expecting her to obey. Considering the fact that he was her boss, he should expect no less. But she’d be damned if she’d let him treat her like a Pixie Pest. She walked slowly to the office. He stood beside his desk, hands on his hips, grim expression on his face.

“Close the door.”

“I don’t think…”

“Rebecca! Close the fuckin’ door.” She clenched her teeth, reached behind her and slammed the door shut. He walked around the desk and sat in his chair. Leaning forward, he rested clasped hands on the desk. “Sit,” he commanded.

Like hell, she thought. “I’m fine standing.”

“Officer Taylor, sit down and stop defying me.”

She sneered at him and sat.

“Tell me what happened.” He watched her, his eyes intent on her every move. It unnerved her, made her feel hot and irritated.

“Bryan already told you everything.”

“Details.”

With a sigh she told him about the neighbor calling it in. “I responded and found Mrs. Miller wielding a knife, Mr. Miller with a shotgun ranting and raving.”