Moving_Violations (2 page)

“No, I won’t.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead then met her gaze. She watched in fascination as they darkened and turned stormy. She opened her mouth to say something and he lowered his head and kissed her mouth. A small kiss, lingering only seconds, but the impact was powerful. She looked up at him with wide eyes. He let her go and she felt suddenly cold.

“Be careful going home,” he said hoarsely.

She nodded, folding her arms over her chest.

He turned and opened the door. “If you need anything let me know.” He walked out onto the porch. “Lock up.”

“I will.” She fought her desire to ask him to stay.

“Goodnight, Becca,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Jackson.” He pulled the door shut and she chained and bolted it.

Rebecca walked into the spotless kitchen, her body humming with arousal. She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. Sleep was definitely going to be hard to achieve tonight.

8

Moving Violations

Chapter Two

Jackson left the house, his blood boiling and pooling in his loins, his cock rising hard and hot between his thighs. Damn, Becca was even more beautiful now than she had been years ago. The sixteen-year-old had been an emerging woman, more tempting than she could have known. But now, more beautiful than ever, she would be more than he could refuse.

He shook his head as he jumped in his truck and turned the ignition. He almost hadn’t shown up at the house. Had avoided the funeral and the showing like a plague.

He had known Becca was there, and had known she would be as tempting as she always had been.

Slipping the vehicle in gear, he pulled quickly away from the curb and headed home. Good thing she was leaving tomorrow. Distractions like Becca were more than he needed right now. His uncle’s death six months ago had left the sheriff’s position to him until the next election, and Jackson still hadn’t solved the riddle of his uncle’s murder.

And he knew damned good and well it was murder.

His last conversation with Tobias Montgomery, the tough, ex-Marine turned sheriff who had helped raise him, played through his mind.

“Something’s up, son,” he had told Jackson quietly as they sat on the porch of the Tobias family home. “That mayor’s dirty dealin’. I can smell it.”

He had spit a stream of tobacco juice off the side of the porch before leaning back in his chair. Tobias had been in his fifties, robust and healthy, and as agile-minded as he had been in the Marines.

“How so?” Jackson had watched him curiously.

He had known Mayor Whittaker all his life. The man was a sleaze ball, but he had never been an illegal sleaze ball.

Tobias had shaken his gray head slowly. “Not sure,” he had grunted. “But I’m tellin’ you, Jackson, I know him. He’s flashing money he shouldn’t have, and meeting with some real slick characters of late. He’s edgy, and his wife’s death was too suspicious to suit me. That was a fine woman he was married to.”

Tobias’ voice had been somber. Margaret Whittaker had been Tobias’ girl before she married the other man. When Tobias had joined the Marines and went off to Vietnam, she had married the only son of the caretaker rather than waiting for him to return.

Tobias had never gotten over it, as far as Jackson knew.

Jackson had wondered at the time if his uncle’s affection for the deceased woman hadn’t had something to do with his suspicions concerning the mayor. Now, Jackson wasn’t so sure. Tobias’ sudden “hunting” accident just didn’t ring true, especially considering the fact that Tobias wasn’t a hunter. A fisherman, a bullshitter, but not a hunter.

9

Lora Leigh and Veronica Chadwick

Like any proud southern boy, he had his hunting rifles, he shot trap when the occasion called for it, but he didn’t hunt. “Won’t eat it, I ain’t killin’ it,” had been his reasoning. Now he was dead. The official report being that he had tripped, causing his rifle to go off and blow a hole in his chest. By the time Jackson had gotten home the body had been cremated and any chance of another coroner’s exam shot to hell. And Jackson was left to figure out what the hell had happened and why. He was no closer now than he had been six months ago.

He pulled into the sheriff’s office and sat in the gathering darkness, staring at the aging stone building that housed the jail, as well as his office. He didn’t trust his men or the mayor. And the few friends he had grown up with were mostly gone now. Not that he was an outsider, except in the sheriff’s department. There, he was feeling more and more alone amid the few deputies who seemed much too friendly with Whittaker.

All but Bryan. Bryan Matthews had been Jackson’s only addition to the force. He wouldn’t be there if it hadn’t been for Jackson’s brother-in-law.

“Hire the boy,” Ted had suggested quietly after Jackson had taken office. “He’s dependable and needs the experience.” At the time, Jackson had been aware of the general atmosphere of insubordination that he was facing.

He could fire them, he knew. Roby and Martin, the two deputies causing him the most concern. But it would be harder to keep track of them that way. They were involved, but how he wasn’t certain, and he needed to know how.

It wasn’t adding up. The influx of drugs in the county was no more than a few peddlers from larger cities that were weeded out on a regular basis. There weren’t many strangers in town, and few unusual occurrences unless you counted the short disappearances Whittaker made. Where the hell he went, Jackson had yet to figure out.

He shifted in the truck, frowning in irritation as his throbbing cock reminded him of Becca once again. Dammit. He doubted very seriously she would ever return now that her aunt was dead. Despite her indecision over keeping the house, she was a city girl.

He could see it all over her. Damned fine city girl. But a city girl, all the same.

He drew in a deep breath, willing his stubborn hard-on to return to a relaxed state.

Hell, maybe he had been too long without a woman, but one-night stands weren’t his thing, and now wasn’t the time for a relationship. It would be fine, he thought. Damned fine to curl up with Becca, hear her moaning in passion, her slender body undulating beneath his.

“Dammit,” he growled, his hand clenching on the steering wheel as his cock seemed to harden further.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Bryan hailed him as he caught sight of the truck after leaving the sheriff’s building. “Sure is a pretty night, huh?”

The kid was too damned green, Jackson thought.

“Evenin’, Bryan. It’s a fine night,” he agreed as he pulled the keys from the ignition and got out of the vehicle. “You off for the night?”

“Yep. Calling it a night,” Bryan nodded as he pushed his blond hair back from his forehead and stopped on the sidewalk as Jackson approached. “I thought I might drive out to the lake. There’s a few friends meeting up there tonight.”

10

Moving Violations

Bryan shifted from one foot to the other as though standing still was too much for his body to handle. He was like a pup, always ready to dive into the next adventure.

“Be careful. Give me a call if anything starts looking rough. Don’t play Superman.

You’re not made of steel,” Jackson warned him.

Bryan grimaced. “You’re as bad as that danged brother-in-law of yours. I’m not stupid either, Sheriff.”

There was a shade of offense in the kid’s tone. Jackson sighed. Damned kids didn’t know the dangers that existed out there.

“I’m aware of that, Bryan.” He nodded. “Just a warning I’d give to any of my men.

No offense intended.”

“Yeah. Okay then. I’ll be careful,” Bryan promised. “Sorry, Sheriff.”

“No apology needed. Night, Bryan.” Jackson moved off then, heading for the double doors.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Bryan called out again, his voice pitched low now, questioning.

Jackson turned back to him, seeing the hesitation on Bryan’s face.

“What is it?”

Bryan scratched his head, frowned, and glanced around the area as though making certain they were alone. “I heard something strange today.”

Jackson waited patiently as Bryan stepped nearer.

“Roby got a call, and whoever he was talking to got pissed enough to start yelling. I was standing there…” Bryan grimaced. “I feel like a tattle tale. I’m sure it’s nothing, but the man was cursing him loud enough to wake the dead. I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“And?” Jackson stiffened as tension invaded his body.

Bryan shook his head again. “And it was just damned strange. Could have swore the words were Arabic, ya know? Or something similar. When did we get foreigners in town?”

Jackson shrugged, fighting a sense of excitement. “Hell, who knows who Roby has pissed off this week.”

Bryan chuckled. “Hell if that ain’t the truth. I figured it was nothing, but you know, after the Towers…” Bryan sobered.

“Yeah. I know.” Jackson nodded. “Go have fun, Bryan. You know Roby. He keeps everyone pissed.”

“Yeah, guess so.” But Bryan sounded as uncertain as Jackson felt. “I better go then.”

Jackson watched as Bryan turned and headed to the parking lot. He searched the area carefully, his eyes narrowing as he assured himself no one had overheard the conversation. It might be nothing, as he had tried to convince Bryan, but it wasn’t the first clue he had come across. Now, he just had to figure out what the hell it meant.

11

Lora Leigh and Veronica Chadwick

Chapter Three

Rebecca’s return to Detroit had been nothing short of depressing. She’d grown tired of the brutality of the big city. Being a cop, she’d seen it all. The slower pace of a small town police force was very appealing and being back home reminded her she was a country girl at heart. So, she had looked into a transfer.

She chuckled remembering the wild and crazy girl she used to be and shook her head. She’d been such a tomboy. With her skinned knees and wild mop of hair and freckles. She was forever running all over the county getting into mischief. She had such great memories of fishing in the lake, swimming in the deep part of the creek, climbing trees, falling out of trees.

The move from Jericho to Detroit had been a major drama as was everything in Rebecca’s young life. At the time it felt as if her heart had been snatched right out of her chest. And then there was Jackson. Seeing him again when she was sixteen had been the clincher. That fine lookin’ man had sent her painfully immature heart to pounding like mad all over again. Silly girl, she thought, fancying herself in love with a twenty six year old man at such a young age. But she wasn’t a silly girl anymore, and Jackson was still around.

Pushing the thought aside, she mentally listed the things she still needed to get done before reporting to the station the next morning. Finding her PDA topped the list.

She was hoping to try and reach the sheriff’s office this evening, but the number was on that blasted device, as was most of her semi-organized life, and it had conveniently disappeared. Breathing out roughly, she scanned the scattered contents of her purse on the table and frowned. So, she hadn’t lost it in the bottom of the “pit” after all. That didn’t leave many other places to search for it.

She had tried to get in touch with the sheriff a couple of times before she left Detroit and a few times since she arrived in Jericho but he was always out. She’d left three messages but he’d never returned her call. Ah, well, maybe she would get lucky when she went into the station the next morning, she thought with a heavy sigh. Someone there would be able to get all the preliminary crap taken care of and get her orientated. If not, then she would just have to figure it out for herself. Not a pleasant thought, but not anything she couldn’t handle.

She wasn’t going to worry about it. She was starting a new life, and that deserved a small celebration. The idea hit her like a flash of inspiration. That was it! She was gonna visit the Wild Rose Tavern and maybe run into some old friends and Rita, if she was still there, couldn’t fuss at her this time! At the tender age of eleven she’d been determined to sneak into a bar, no less, hoping to get a glimpse of Jackson. Pixie Pest, he’d called her and tugged at her long tangled hair, right before Rita would kick her out and call her mom. She sighed as the thought occurred to her…wasn’t that what she was doing tonight? Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jackson? Damn.

12

Moving Violations

She stepped into the steamy shower. She couldn’t believe he was still there. Since he had joined the military like his daddy wanted him to, she had thought he would be overseas or at least stationed far away from home. She’d heard that he’d been in Special Forces and that he was assigned exciting and dangerous missions. It only added to his appeal. She’d prayed for him while he was fighting in Desert Storm.

Well, if by some chance he was at the Wild Rose, she thought as she rubbed the rich foamy lather over her body, she’d have to keep her distance. Jackson could never live up to her fantasies and the last thing she needed was a one-night stand. She stood with her eyes closed, letting the warm spray rinse away the suds.

She stepped out of the shower into the small humid bathroom, wrapping a towel around her. She wiped a washcloth across the mirror then carefully applied a little makeup and blow-dried her hair. She tilted her head, giving herself a quick check in the mirror, then went into the bedroom and dressed. She’d arrived in the small rural town just that morning and already she looked like the hick she was in her denim sleeveless button up shirt, shorts and leather thong sandals. It amazed her how easy it was to slip back into it, how comfortable she felt. She wouldn’t dream of going out to a bar dressed like this back in Detroit.

She would have worn her midnight blue slip dress with the rhinestone spaghetti straps and her silver heels. She would have spent a couple of hours at the salon having it pinned up in some elaborate configuration. She frowned at herself, trying to picture what she’d look like with a chic short cut. May not be a bad idea, she thought. The severe bun she wore while at work made her scalp ache. It felt good to have the unruly golden brown hair loose and hanging free past her shoulders in wide thick curls.