Jeannie dropped her purse on the entry table and closed the door to her townhome. The smell of smoke hung around her. She took a whiff of the sleeve of her blouse. Luckily, she’d called and changed her visit with Cherri until after dinner. Jeannie had needed to get inside her store and take photos, secure the jewelry, and put a closed for remodeling sign in the window. While many of her customers would have heard about the fire—after all, word traveled fast in a small town—she didn’t need anyone thinking she would close forever. Her mother had always said Jeannie was too stubborn for her own good, but it had served her well as an independent businesswoman.
She stripped off her outfit, turned the shower on full blast, and waited for the water to warm up. She dropped her towel on the rug outside the tub and stepped in. The warm water hit her back as she slid under the spray. Using some of her conditioning peach shampoo, she lathered her hair then stood under the nozzle to rinse. The soothing water washed away the grime from the fire and also the stress of her day. Reaching out for the soap, she slid it between her hands and created lather. With her eyes closed, she spread the bubbles over her arms, chest, and stomach. While she kept busy with washing, her mind drifted toward Hank.
She replayed his entrance into the store, his dominant stare, and the way his arms felt under her hands. She imagined tugging his blue cotton shirt from his waistband, tearing it open and revealing the sculpted chest beneath. She’d reach out and caress his shoulders then entwine her fingers behind his neck. This time, as he lifted her to place her on the display counter, she’d wrap her legs around his waist and pull him closer.
Jeannie let her fantasy take over. Her heart beat faster, and she panted. Longing to have him with her in the shower, she did the next best thing and imagined her hands were his as she rubbed them over her body and between her legs. As the spray cooled and her body reached fever pitch, Jeannie brushed her finger over her clit, sending her orgasm vibrating through her. She grabbed the wall of the shower and relaxed against it until her heart rate slowed to normal.
Remembering her time crunch, she shut off the water, picked her towel up off the mat, and wrapped it around her body. She dried her legs and arms with a second towel. Condensation coated everything from the bathroom mirror to the floor tiles. Her cheeks heated as she recalled her “time” with Deputy Dan. She hadn’t wanted Clinton with an ounce of the passion she’d expressed for Hank. Yet her feelings for him confused her. Hank was a nice guy. His part in her “almost” wedding made her angry, but he had only been doing his job.
Jeannie ducked into her bedroom. The cooler temperature dimpled her skin. Quickly, she pulled on her undergarments, black leggings, and a short silky dress. Slipping into her knee-high boots, she returned to the bathroom, wiped off the mirror, and slid a comb through her shoulder-length hair. With a twist and the placement of a clip, she created a loose arrangement on top of her head, sophisticated yet playful. She applied a little powder foundation and some shaded lip gloss then glanced down at the clock on the bathroom wall. I need to get my ass in gear. I’m supposed to meet Cherri at the Martini Bar. I could use a drink, especially after those steamy thoughts about Deputy Dan.
***
Hank went home after leaving Jeannie, but he couldn’t keep her off his mind. Sitting at his desk, he logged onto his computer then opened the file folder containing his research on who might be behind Jeannie’s terrorist report. He hadn’t been able to uncover any known criminal organizations or felons Jeannie might have upset. He closed the file and opened another. This file contained information on her ex-fiancé, Clinton Marshal. Like Jeannie, he didn’t have any known ties to terrorist organizations nor had he been out of the country. He hadn’t been visiting any of the reputed kingpin countries where homegrown terrorists gain their doctrine and, in some cases, weapons.
Clinton appeared to be an absentminded and well-liked actor. But Hank’s digging had uncovered some shady business practices that occurred in the last two months. Prior to then, his money appeared to be on the up-and-up. But recently, his credit card totals were increasing and large chunks of cash were being deposited into his household account. Unless the cost of toilet paper had hit an all-time high, the account didn’t need the influx of money.
Hank signed out of the police database and pondered what he’d learned. Something was going on with Clinton Marshal, but was he just a target like Jeannie or the mastermind hiding behind the absentminded persona? A beep alerted him to new email. Not recognizing the sender, he almost hit the button to send it to spam, but a twinge in his back made him pause. His finger hovered while he argued with himself. The police department computers were frequent targets of hackers and pranksters. Going with his hunch, he opened the email.
Mr. Walker,
I am aware of some information that would be beneficial to you. I’ve learned recently that a person you care about has been targeted by someone, and she could get hurt. Please forgive me for my vagueness. I run a service that caters to a particular clientele. Your friend has been given a weekend to remember, but I worry we won’t be able to keep her safe. That’s where you come in. I’d like you to be her partner for the weekend. What happens between you is her and your choice. But I believe you are the only one who can protect her.
Sincerely,
Master Draikoh San
Matchmaker Extraordinaire
Hank lounged in his chair as he studied the letter. How did this guy get his email address? Could he be talking about Jeannie? She was the only person he knew with a target on her back. Curiouser and curiouser.
During their conversation at the diner, Lilibet and Kane had mentioned Draikoh San. Coincidence? Had Kane set something up with him? A general search for information on the mysterious matchmaker turned up glowing testimonials from rich and famous clients. On the website, no contact information was listed, nor were prices, but Hank speculated it was very expensive. Who would give such an expensive gift to her? And why would she even consider doing it? Surely, she wasn’t lacking for dates. He recalled the way she chewed on her bottom lip when she was nervous and the spunk she displayed when cornered. To protect her, he’d do just about anything…
Signing into the police database again, Hank conducted a search on the elusive Master Draikoh San. If there was a whiff of impropriety, the police would have a record of it. From his social security number to banking records, all the information showed the matchmaker on the up-and-up. Never married and never arrested, nor even detained, the guy appeared clean. But he decided to make a call just to be sure.
Hank pulled his cell out of his shirt pocket and hit the number for Kane. When his friend answered, he let out a breath of relief. “Hi, Kane. Hank, here. Do you remember the matchmaker Lilibet mentioned at lunch?”
“Yea. She’s up on all the celebrity gossip. Why? Are you thinking about using his services? You can’t be that desperate.”
Hank cringed at his friend’s joke. “No. I received a job offer from him tonight. He wants me to protect a client by posing as a match.” The whole thing sounded silly when he said it aloud, and he braced himself for some teasing.
Kane’s voice lowered. “Sounds fishy.”
“I checked on him in the police records. Clean. Not even a littering ticket.” Hank blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I know this is unusual. I believe the target is Jeannie Hall. First the terrorist alert then a fire at her store.”
“The town will riot if I let anything happen to that woman. She’s well loved. Make sure to find out the details and keep me updated. You know the policy on undercover—always keep your backup informed. That’ll be me.
“Thanks. Let me know if you hear anything, and I’ll update you when I get the details. Bye.” Hank shoved his phone back into his pocket. He’d reached out to Kane before his own boss. Said something about his friendship, but more importantly about the trust he had for the sheriff. They’d been friends since their training days. And while Kane sought leadership positions, Hank enjoyed playing second fiddle. Dealing with the mayor and the public gave him a headache. He didn’t have the patience for drama.
Opening his email again, Hank hit reply.
Mr. San,
Thank you for the opportunity. I agree our mutual friend needs protection. Yesterday, she escaped with no harm when a fire started in her store. But I need more details about what you expect from me.
Sincerely,
Hank Walker
Satisfied with his message, he hit the send button and dove back into his research, determined to find a piece of information on either Draikoh San or whoever had it in for Jeannie.