Chapter Three
Dax sat in a back booth of The Sugar Shack and warmed his hands on a cup of hot mocha deluxe coffee. He inhaled the pungent smell and waited for that relaxing coffee-calm, but it never came. He hoped like hell he’d get lucky today and learn what had happened to Sadie Palmer. He had wanted to be back in Baltimore, but now that the cop in him had become involved in the sheriff’s case, he’d be sticking around. Having Jessie Nash to look at was an added bonus. Too bad, the sexy deputy hadn’t shown any interest in him, which meant he probably should look the other way.
Why she of all people had piqued his interest he didn’t know. In the past, he never went for the hard-to-get type—and she was as hard to get as Maryland crab cakes in the dead of winter.
It was only a matter of time before she pointed a finger at him. Her beloved sheriff was reported dead a few hours after he’d arrived in a town that hadn’t seen a homicide in forever. Though with all the new construction nearby, there were tons of new people about, and any one of them could have had a run in with the sheriff and gone too far.
If by some chance Jessie did ask for his continued help, he couldn’t turn her down since he had offered. He should get out of Kerry as soon as possible, but it wasn’t like he had anything else lined up back at home.
A soft wind chime sounded above The Sugar Shack’s door. He looked up, thankful for the distraction. From his vantage point in the back, he could keep watch over who came and went. Two construction workers barreled in, one dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, sporting a big gut and a bigger laugh, while the second man, who was in his mid twenties, looked fit. He must have told a whopper of a joke, one that Dax wished he’d have heard, as he sure could use a good laugh right about now.
He leaned back against the padded cushion, and as he waited impatiently for Margaret and her two lady friends to arrive, he tapped the spoon on the edge of his cup until the guy in the next booth shushed him. Dax checked his watch, wondering once more what was taking them so long.
Because Margaret and her friends were the last to see Sadie alive, he wanted to ask them a few questions before their memories rooted in and took a turn straight toward some alien spaceship.
Jeez, what kind of case had he taken on?
The bell above the door chimed again, and his gaze shot toward the entrance to find Ms. Jessie herself striding in. Even though she was still dressed in those drab pants and that bulky shirt, she looked good.
He tossed the spoon down in disgust, needing to get a grip. He was here to do a job and nothing more.
With a hand on her hip, she scanned the restaurant. Dax was about to raise his hand to get her attention when she spotted him, nodded without smiling, and headed straight for the opposite side of the restaurant.
Given they were unofficially working together, he’d expected at least a wave. Then again, this was business. Maybe she was meeting someone to get more information about Clinton DuPree’s death and didn’t need him butting in. He had come on a little strong in the alley behind the bar, but that was because he was best suited to process the crime scene.
A waitress walked by his table carrying a tray full of wonderful smelling French Fries and a juicy hamburger, making his stomach grumble, but he decided to eat after he spoke with the ladies.
The door opened again, and this time Margaret and her two friends strolled in. She spotted Dax immediately, waved, and headed toward his booth. Shoulders back, Margaret seemed to concentrate on making sure she didn’t lose her balance as she wove around the tables. Bless her soul, Jessie’s grandmother looked so much like his Granny it wasn’t funny.
The short woman next to her was as frail as a winter snowflake, and the third woman was six feet if she was an inch and looked like she’d spent her life enjoying her own home cooked meals—a real Julia Childs look-a-alike.
“Howdy, Dax.” Margaret sat next to him and patted his hand like a child, while her two friends slipped in across from him.
It was nice to see a friendly face for a change, but holy shit, one of the three old-timers must have lost her alien-loving sense of smell. His eyes watered from the overwhelming scent of perfume, but a quick sip of coffee saved him from coughing.
Margaret introduced her friends. Both women seemed fully functioning in the brain department, which was a good start, but he wondered if they shared Margaret’s enthusiasm for aliens.
His waitress, Lena, came over, pen and pad in hand, looking frazzled. “Hi, Margaret, Eleanor, Mary Alice. What can I get you ladies today?”
They looked at each other, then back at Lena. In unison, they answered, “The usual.”
Lena nodded then glanced back at Dax. “You need a refill, darling? Or a fresh pastry?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” As soon as Lena left, Dax swirled the coffee in his cup. “I appreciate you ladies meeting with me on a Saturday morning.”
“Our pleasure,” Eleanor said with a broad smile.
She ran her fingers over her necklace in a slow, seductive manner. Dear God, the woman was seventy-five if she was a day, but if he wasn’t mistaken, she was flirting with him.
Mary Alice, the short, frail lady, wore too much makeup, but at least she didn’t look at him like she wanted to eat him for dessert. The frown on her face made him wonder if he’d get much out of her. As if she could read his mind, she raised her hand.
“Yes?” Dax asked.
“It’s not fair,” she announced with authority.
He’d play her game. “What’s not fair, Mary Alice?” That her friend hadn’t shown up in days?
“They took Sadie, and I wanted to be the one.” Mary Alice glanced at Margaret then at Eleanor.
“Excuse me?” he asked. Mary Alice might be battier than Margaret.
“Don’t you know anything about alien technology? They do sexual experiments on humans, and I wanted to see what it was like to be taken, probed, and experimented on. They return you in one piece without harm, or so I’ve read.” Her lips pinched together as she folded her arms over her chest.
Dax didn’t know how to respond. Half of him wanted to burst out laughing, and the other half wanted someone to beam him out of there. He realized a little too late that he should have insisted on going with Jessie this morning instead of meeting with these ladies, but to be fair, Margaret had hired him to find Sadie, so here he was.
Time to bring the topic back into the real world. “I’d like to know where you women were when you saw these magical lights Margaret reported to the sheriff.”
Margaret raised a brow at the word magical then cleared her throat. “We were on my front porch when we seen the lights, which were clear as day. The mine is only a mile away. We built our house nearby because my dear husband, Charley,” she sniffed when she said his name, “used to own the Nash mines. When he died three years ago, I had to sell the business to Robert Catchman.” Her lips turned into a sneer. “That crook ran the business into the ground and did it on purpose to spite Charley’s memory. How he benefited, I don’t know.”
“Margaret,” Eleanor chided. “The lights? Tell him about the lights.”
“Oh, right. Of course.” She turned back to Dax. “As I started to say, we seen these lights near the mine and wondered what was going on. Normally, it’s black as coal in my part of town, so lights are something of a curiosity. The four of us drove out there, waited in the car, and watched.” She folded her hands on her lap as though she was finished with her explanation.
“And?” Dax prompted.
“Well, the lights started moving every which direction for about ten minutes then disappeared.”
“So you didn’t see a ship descend or anything?” Not that Dax expected her to say yes, but with these women, nothing would surprise him.
“No, only the lights.”
At least she wasn’t totally senile. Dax took a sip of his now cool coffee. “Where was Sadie when all this was going on?”
Mary Alice leaned forward. “She was with us the whole time, that is until she decided to have a look-see for herself.” From her expression, he could tell she didn’t approve.
The women had told him Sadie had come home safe that night. “Go on.”
Eleanor placed a hand on Mary Alice’s arm. Guess she wanted to be the one to finish the story. “Sadie couldn’t help herself.” She shot a glare at Mary Alice, who then tossed Eleanor a disgusted look. “Sadie got out of the car against our wishes and made her way closer to the mine, but we kept our headlights trained on her. That’s when she found the spectacles the aliens wore.”
Dax didn’t know whether to tell them the goggles were military issue, but he then decided it wouldn’t do any good to disillusion them.
“None of you saw Sadie again after that night?” he asked.
They all shook their heads.
“Ladies, Sheriff DuPree implied Sadie might have gone off on a cruise or traveled across the country.”
“Not without telling us,” Margaret said sharply.
“So what’s your theory about what happened to Sadie?” he said to no one in particular. Please don’t say aliens took her.
Mary Alice slapped the table. “We already told you. The aliens took her.”
Right—the sexually oriented aliens. He had finished off his coffee just as Lena came over with another freshly brewed pot, along with some tea. She dropped off the drinks as the ladies began speculating about Sadie, acting as though he was some invisible alien.
Fine by him. He listened with one ear while his gaze wandered over to where Jessie sat. She was facing him and he’d never seen her look so happy, and an emotion he refused to identify warmed his belly. Dax quickly shifted his attention to Jessie’s booth mate.
A broad-shouldered man in a leather jacket sat across from her. Jessie laughed and leaned forward, not acting like the stiff, professional woman she’d presented to him. From the way she was tilting her head, she was flirting with the man, and Dax’s fingers clasped the cup tighter. Her interaction wasn’t like any interrogation he’d ever seen. No, this was personal.
“So what’s your next move, Mr. Mitchell?” Eleanor asked, jerking him out of his fantasy viewing.
He straightened and refocused his attention back to the ladies. “If she had been taken by the aliens, there’s not much I can do. If she wasn’t, then I’ll have to investigate. Margaret said Sadie was a seamstress. I’ll see if I can get a list of her clients and ask if any of them saw her the day she disappeared.”
Eleanor sipped her tea and made a face. She dumped in a ton of sugar, stirred some more, and sipped again. “Much better. Mr. Mitchell, the person Sadie last worked for was Roberta Barton. Sadie was making curtains for her. I’d start with her if I were you,” Eleanor said.
“Thanks.” He made a note in his cell.
They seemed convinced he could find this Roberta woman without any more help from them and began chatting. While he sipped on his coffee and mentally mapped out his next move, Dax watched Jessie. He didn’t need to be subtle as the woman paid him no mind.
No question about it. Jessie knew this man and liked him too. The guy could be a boyfriend, yet Dax didn’t remember her mentioning she was dating anyone. Then again, he hadn’t been there long enough for her to tell him anything about her personal life.
Who was he kidding? If he stayed a year, the highly professional Jessie Nash wouldn’t tell him squat. She looked up and caught him staring, and just like that her smile disappeared.
He sank back against his seat. Now she probably thought he was some kind of creep. “Excuse me, ladies. I have work to do.” He opened his wallet, whipped out a five-dollar bill, and dropped the money on the table. His empty stomach be damned.
As he stalked out, Dax could almost feel Jessie’s gaze bore a hole right through him. Christ. He hoped he hadn’t messed things up too badly with all his glances.
* * *
Jessie didn’t know how to react to Dax’s less than friendly stare. He’d seemed nice enough when they first met, but she’d never asked Nana how she found him. Knowing her grandmother, Nana might have seen an ad and believed his tales of greatness.
Jessie planned to run Dax Mitchell through the National Criminal Database to see if he had a record, and she could only hope he wasn’t some criminal who’d come to take advantage of Nana. Dax had suggested someone might have lured Jessie out of the house to harm her grandmother, but surely he wasn’t thinking of doing that. They had no money and nothing worth taking. And to think he’d spent the night under their roof, where anything could have happened. Of course, nothing did, but that was beside the point.
“Jess, you okay?” Brian asked, placing a warm, callused palm on her hand. “You seemed off in space somewhere.”
“Sorry. I can’t seem to keep Clinton’s death off my mind.” Good catch, Jess. Next time she might not be so lucky. She pulled her hand from under his and pushed the image of Dax away.
Focus. She took a better look at Brian Richards, finding it hard to believe it had been ten years since she’d last seen him. He’d changed a lot and not necessarily for the better. Back then his hair had been long and shiny. Now, he wore it cut close to the scalp—military style—and had a few streaks of gray at the temple. The beard only served to make him look older, and the lines that shot out from around his eyes and mouth gave him a dangerous look, exactly how she used to like her men—until she’d wised up. To think he was only twenty-nine. He looked ten years older.
Back in high school, she’d dreamed of being with Brian for good, until he’d turned into a jerk his senior year. That was when she decided she’d had enough of the out of control man-boy.
“Can I refresh your tea?” Lena held the plastic pitcher over Jessie’s half filled glass.
“Why not?” she said even though she didn’t plan on staying much longer.
“Any for you, Brian?” Lena waved a hot pot of steaming coffee, the aroma of warm beans almost making Jessie wish she’d ordered a cup.
When he held a hand over his drink, Lena smiled then went back to her other customers.
Jess studied Brian, and a sliver of guilt surfaced. To be fair, Brian was not at fault for his father’s death. He’d found his dad hitting his younger brother and had gone ballistic on his father. Brian had landed a punch, and the drunken man had slipped, knocked his head on the corner of the coffee table, and died less than an hour later. His mom was devastated, but she’d convinced the authorities it had been an accident.
Jessie had felt so sorry for Brian at the time but then worried his father’s violence might be passed onto Brian and to his kids. It hurt like hell when she told him goodbye, but she had her standards. When he’d said he wanted to leave Kerry for good right after high school, she sent him off with a fond farewell.
“I gotta say, Jess, you’re looking mighty fine.”
“Huh? Oh, thank you.” She wiped her mouth with the rough paper napkin, not wanting to discuss how either of them had aged. “So, when did you get into town?”
“Three days ago. I didn’t stop by because I heard about your grandmother’s friend’s disappearance and figured you’d be too busy to socialize. I didn’t find out about DuPree’s death until this morning. Man, Jess, what’s happening to our little town?”
She leaned back against the soft, leather booth and shook her head. “I wish I knew. Speaking of disappearing, have you ever heard from George?”
“No.” Jessie thought she saw a flash of fear cross his face, but it left so quickly she figured she’d been mistaken. “My brother walked out on the family what, fourteen years ago, and never looked back, lucky son of a bitch.”
His attitude was a cover up. His older brother’s leaving had hurt him.
Brian smiled. “So, is there anything I can do to help with your case load?” His hardness evaporated faster than sweat in winter.
This was the side of Brian she’d always liked—personable, eager, and charming. “Not really.”
One eyebrow lifted up. “You sure? You are alone in the office.” She shook her head. “Well, let me know if you think of anything.”
“I will.”
“So what have you been up to?” he asked.
“Work, work, and more work. Nana hired an outsider to find Sadie, and I’m trying to find out who killed Clinton.”
Brian wrapped his hands around his coffee mug. “You got any leads?”
“Not yet.” Brian had to realize she’d never leak information about an ongoing investigation.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you.” He looked up and her heart skipped a beat.
“Y-you have?” Don’t go there. Brian was a bad boy, and someone who would try to control her. He was just the kind of man she didn’t need.
Her mind skipped to Dax Mitchell again, who wasn’t much better. She’d seen how he’d tried to take over the investigation as if she was some stupid hick. Nope. She’d keep her distance from him too.
“Yes, a lot. We had good times together, you know.” Brian went on. “Real good times. Do you remember riding on the back of my bike? Or how about the time we went hiking and got lost?”
She laughed then took a sip of her lemony iced tea. “How could I forget?”
Jessie didn’t want to remember those times though, at least not now. That was in the past, and she wanted to live in the present. “So tell me what you’ve been doing since you left. I know you reenlisted. How did that go?” No one seemed to know what had happened to Brian after his mom passed. Many thought he’d been killed in battle.
“I did one more tour then left the service for good.”
She almost spit out her drink. “You left? Man, I pegged you for a lifer. What happened?” She dabbed her napkin on her chin.
His eyes turned cold for a moment, and then he shrugged. “Does there have to be a reason?”
Given it appeared to be a sore subject, she decided to drop it for now, but she’d do some digging later. “No. Then what did you do?”
He drained the rest of his coffee, though he didn’t act as though he enjoyed the taste. “Worked construction in Tampa for a while. I know this is hard to believe, but I actually began to miss Kerry. The never ending heat down there and the lack of seasons finally got to me.” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Funny, I couldn’t wait to get out of this town the moment I turned eighteen, but here I am, back for a job.”
A squeal stopped her from probing further. Jessie looked up to find Lena hugging some tall blonde. The two separated, and Jessie’s heart sped up.
It couldn’t be, could it?