A warm, wet sensation on his lips woke Jake up from his deep sleep. The sight that greeted him upon opening his blurry eyes made his heart flutter. Holly was leaning over him, with a big smile on her glorious face.

“Rise and shine.” She chirped. “You look pretty cute when you wake up.”

“What time is it?” He inquired in a hoarse voice.

“Nine thirty,” Holly replied, lying in bed beside him. “And, I’m proud to say, I kept my promise. I didn’t lay a hand on you.”

Jake let his gaze roam over her body. She had a short, purple, baby doll negligée on that left little to the imagination. He couldn’t help but marvel at her lush, shapely legs. Her golden skin awakened his senses.

“Man, I’m such an idiot.” Jake grumbled. “You were inches away from me last night and I didn’t even touch you.”

“Don’t remind me, please.” Holly requested, rolling onto her right side. “I’m intrigued, though. What would you do to me?”

At that moment, her cell phone rang.

“Damn it…” She let out a gasp of frustration, reaching to her nightstand.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Holly spoke in a lazy tone. “What’s up?”

“Morning, Holly. Say, you haven’t seen that bartender, have you? I sent Randolph and Mitchell over to his house, but he’s not there. I’m only asking because I know you go there a lot.”

“Why, what happened?”

“We found a dead body outside his bar last night. Commander Michael Jensen. Poor guy was beaten to death.”

“What?” Her voice turned into a high-pitched squeal.

“Yeah; I’m heading over there as we speak. Call me if you see him, alright?”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Later.”

“What is it?” Tension tightened the back of Jake’s neck, as she tossed her phone across her bed.

“Jake, was anyone else with Allison last night?” Holly asked him, her voice wobbly.

“Yeah,” Jake said with a nod, while sitting up; “some Navy doctor. Why?”

“What happened between you two?” She posed one more question.

“He told me he’d helped Allie fake her death.” He sighed. “I snapped. I punched him.”

“Just punched him?” Holly squinted at him.

“Yeah: twice,” Jake admitted. “What’s with the third degree?”

“He’s dead,” she informed him, the stiff look on her face making his stomach chill with fear. “They found him beaten to death, right outside your bar.”

“Oh, no…” a whisper of despair fled his lips, as he dropped his head into his hands.

“Look, I believe you, but you need to be able to prove it,” Holly continued. “Are there any security cameras in your bar?”

“There’s one camera outside.” Jake said, sliding his hands down his face. “It’s hidden behind the neon sign.”

“Will it show you beating that guy up?” She asked once more.

“No. Everything happened inside,” he replied getting out of bed. “I just dragged him out. Stop asking me questions, okay? I didn’t do it. End of story.”

“I’m sorry,” Holly lowered her tone. “I’m just really worried about you; that’s all.”

“Let’s just get there,” Jake suggested. “I’m as curious about this as you are.”

Having no time to waste, the young couple put their clothes on and soon, they were on their way to his bar. Before long, they discovered that it had drawn quite a lot of attention. There were several cars parked on the right and left sides of the road, more than half a mile away from the bar. Dozens of people were just a few feet away from the parking lot. Jake and Holly had to push through the gathering crowd. Jensen’s body was nowhere near the entrance. Instead, it was more than a hundred feet south. His arm was very close to the edge of the road. Sheriff Matheson was standing over the dead body, taking notes as they approached.

“It didn’t take you long to find him.” He remarked, a sly smile on his chubby face as his eyes met with Holly’s.

“We’re dating.” She confessed, as Jake stared down at Jensen’s body. His face was badly bruised. Parts of his clothes were torn off and he had some blood on his hands as well. “What can you tell me?”

“Son, I probably shouldn’t be doing this but, seeing as you’ve been here for a while now, I don’t see a reason not to.” The Sheriff attempted a low, steady tone, taking a few, furtive glances around him. “First of all, I was just in that bar of yours. Looks like a goddamn bomb went off in there. What happened?”

“He was here last night,” Jake informed him. “We got into a fight. I punched him a couple of times. How did you get in there?”

“You’d left your back door open. I saw the surveillance footage. It just confirmed my suspicions,” the Sheriff added.

“Meaning what?” Jake waited for the answer with bated breath.

“This is a secondary site.” Sheriff Matheson spoke in a voice that was almost a whisper. “The guy was dumped here, almost an hour after you left. Look at him. He’s got blood all over him. There’s no blood on the road or in the parking lot. Also, there’s a tiny fragment of his skull, right under his head. It must have broken on impact. Son, this place will be crawling with feds in a few. This is out of my jurisdiction. I don’t know your beef with the guy, but to me, it looks like someone is trying to pin this on you. Who else saw you beat that guy?”

The Sheriff had barely finished his sentence, when the loud revving of two, powerful engines drew their attention. Two, large, black SUV’s parted the crowd and stopped, close to them. Four men in black suits emerged; the oldest addressed Jake.

“Mr. Isaacs, I’m special agent Ron Patrick, NCIS.” He introduced himself. “We need to ask you a few questions.”