Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(33)
Wee laughed a low and seedy chuckle. “That wasn’t no baby that came in here in that tight pair of jeans and skintight T-shirt.”
“You nasty son of a—”
Marta took a quick step across the room toward Wee. Josie had no doubt she aimed to punch, and no doubt about her ability to do damage, and in spite of a strong desire to watch it all unfold, she grabbed Marta by the arm and took the paper out of her hand.
“We’re not wasting any more time,” Josie said, and pulled Marta to the door.
“Give me that paper back! That’s my document! I don’t got another copy!”
“I’m seizing this as evidence,” Josie said.
They walked out the door and Josie folded the sheet and put it in her shirt pocket as they approached the car.
Marta turned to face Wee as she opened the passenger-side door of Josie’s jeep. “Listen to me closely, Wee. You are scum. And when scumbags start messing with kids I take a personal interest. And when it’s my own kid I get vicious. I’ll figure out a way to nail you for this. Next time I’ll have you in cuffs.”
“You and what army, sweetheart?” he yelled, and let the door bang shut.
*
Josie arrived home that evening and found Chester lying on the front porch, his head atop his crossed paws and long bloodhound ears splayed out on either side. He looked mopey.
“You’re as tired of this rain as I am, aren’t you?” Josie reached down and scratched the top of his head and behind his ears. Appearing thoroughly exhausted, he struggled one leg at a time to a standing position, but he still managed to push himself through the door first.
Josie hung her gun belt in the kitchen pantry and got Chester a snack before starting the shower. She turned the water on hot and laid her uniform on the bed so she could change over to a fresh one for the next day. She’d have to polish the brass and switch the badge, nameplate, and medals over before morning. She’d always thought undercover work would be preferable for the sole reason that she would not have to change a uniform over.
She laid a pair of khaki shorts and a lacy pink sleeveless blouse on her bed. After her shower she swiped concealer on to hide the dark circles under her eyes and then brushed her brown hair out and pulled it behind her head in a clip. She looked in the mirror and thought about Dillon’s pretty secretary, the classy Christina Handley, and dug through the vanity drawer to find mascara and lip gloss. She applied both and flashed a smile into the mirror, feeling a bit ridiculous, but satisfied with the final effect.
Josie was generally comfortable in her role as a thirty-something-year-old tomboy. But Christina caused Josie to picture herself as Dillon might, or even as a complete stranger might, and it made her uncomfortable. Christina accessorized. She wore heels and makeup and had her hair done in a salon, not the Quick Clips across the street from the courthouse that Josie frequented. It wasn’t that Josie couldn’t choose appealing clothes and shoes to match; she just didn’t want to. The process was tiresome and she preferred to spend her time doing other things. And until Dillon had hired Christina as his secretary, Josie hadn’t given her wardrobe a second thought.
As she walked into the kitchen, considering her need to go clothes shopping, she saw a sporty white BMW approach the house, with a long, sleek hood and short tail-end. Dillon was a car snob. For such a practical man, Josie thought his obsession with luxury cars was out of character. She wanted dependable and good gas mileage in a car; Dillon wanted style and panache.
He pulled in front of her house and unfolded his long, lanky body from the sports car and smiled wide when he saw her and Chester standing at the door waiting on him. He wore navy pants and a starched blue shirt with thin yellow stripes, and a yellow tie. He walked quickly toward the house, dodging the puddles. His dark hair was cut short, neck shaved, face sleek, teeth bright. Josie smiled and felt her stomach flip. He stepped inside the door and pulled her in to him. He had sad, downturned eyes that melted her heart. He kissed her lightly, then pulled back and looked at her carefully, smiling.
She smiled back at his expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He laughed and drew her in to his chest, squeezing her tightly. He pulled her back again and looked into her eyes. “Because I missed your quizzical looks.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re always trying to figure me out, and I have no secrets. There’s no mystery to me. You know exactly how I feel about you.”
Dillon leaned down and kissed her, a slow welcome-home kiss that made her body tingle and the world around her fade to black. His hands ran the length of her back and chills ran up her spine. She trailed a string of kisses down his neck and forgot all about dinner, until the dog broke the moment, nudging his nose between them.
Dillon followed Chester onto the back porch to watch him sniff around in the rain while Josie went into the kitchen to fix their dinner. She opened a can of fruit cocktail and split the contents into two bowls for their dessert. She poured water into the coffeepot to heat it up for brewing iced tea. Next, she opened two packages of Ramen and started water to boil for the soup. It was one of her favorite meals.
While standing at the stove she felt Dillon approach her from behind, felt his hands slip around her stomach and his body press into her back.
“I’m kind of busy,” she said, breaking up the noodles into the boiling water, and smiling at his touch.