A Nash Mystery Box Set Page 10

  The man was clearly out of his mind. “What kiss?”

  He threw her an exaggerated frown. “At your bedroom door last night. You were a little tipsy, I admit, but you threw your arms around my neck and kissed me. Trust me, I didn’t imagine it.”

  She had a vague recollection of Dax pressing her back against the wall. His lips. His heat. His whole body pulsating against her. Ohmigod. “I’m sorry. I was too drunk to know what I was doing.”

  The cheer on his face disappeared faster than water on a hot griddle.

  “You’d had all of two drinks.”

  “Two doubles. That’s like four regular ones, Mr. Mathematician.” Damn. Being snarky was unattractive at best, but she was off balance whenever she was near him.

  He winced. “I know, but even with that amount in your system, you would have known what you were doing, but I understand next day remorse. You don’t have to worry, it won’t happen again.” Dax spun on his heels and disappeared, though from the small chuckle and the slight shake of his head, he wasn’t too pissed.

  She had hurt his feelings though, and that upset her, but she wasn’t going to give him liberties when his time in Kerry was days from ending. At the thought of him leaving, along with the poor way she’d just handled herself, an unexpected sadness swept through her.

  She set the coffee on her nightstand next to her bed and dropped her head back on the pillow. Eyes closed, she slapped a forearm over her face and the images came flooding back, enabling her to recreate the scene from last night in her mind’s eye. If she’d kissed him, why had he pulled away? She would have remembered telling him no.

  Maybe he just wasn’t attracted to her, despite being able to make her feel all warm and safe inside, something no other man had succeeded in doing. He’d made her feel... Call a spade a spade, Jess. Horny. She wanted him. Hell, if he hadn’t stepped away, she bet she would have dragged him to the bed and made incredible love to him, but it wasn’t to be. She’d been a fool to think there might have been something between her and the tall, dark stranger, but as he said, it would never happen again. Bottom line, Dax Mitchell was off-limits.

  If by some chance, she was misinterpreting his actions, and he really did want her, it was too late now. He’d be leaving soon—if not tomorrow, he would when his truck was repaired.

  She could almost hear Sadie cursing her, convincing her life was too short to walk away from the sexiest man Jessie had ever known.

  Shut up, Sadie.

  Her stomach complained about the lack of food, and as she sat up to take a bite of toast, realization slammed into her. This morning she’d have to tell Nana about the oh-so-wrong murder, and what little appetite she had disappeared. One thing was sure. She would find out who did this terrible crime if it was the last thing she did.

  Jessie slapped the wheel. “I shouldn’t have listened to Nana and just left her to grieve on her own.”

  Seeing Jessie upset tore Dax up. He’d been by her side when she told Margaret the grim news. While Jessie’s grandmother seemed to be working hard to keep it together for Jessie’s sake, he wouldn’t be surprised to hear she’d broken down later.

  “Your grandmother’s in good hands. All her friends are giving her their support. You heard her. She wants us to find who committed this atrocity, and you know the drill: for every hour that goes by, the chances of finding the killer goes down—way down.”

  “I know.” Jessie bit down on her lower lip. “I wish I had a clue where to begin.”

  “Kerry hasn’t had a murder in a lot of years, right?”

  She glanced at him. “My father said a local butcher was killed in ’88. Apparently he was cheating people on their meat purchases.”

  “Not exactly a documentary waiting to happen,” he mumbled. She glared at him, and he regretted saying that out loud. “Sorry. All I’m saying is that for your town to have two, count ’em, two murders in such a short time, something isn’t right. I think whoever took a shot at my truck is connected to one, if not both, of these crimes.”

  “I think you may be right. If we find out who shot at you, we’ll find our killer.”

  “Might find our killer, not will.”

  “I know. It’s wishful thinking,” she said.

  This morning, they’d returned to where they’d found Sadie’s body so he could photograph the scene during the day, but they didn’t find any additional evidence. While he’d suggested she stay in the cruiser while he snapped the pictures, Jessie had insisted she go with him. Once they finished with that chore, they decided to check out the mine to see if Sadie had discovered something there.

  They rode in silence until she turned down Orchard Avenue toward the mine. “Shit. I forgot to call Walter about towing your truck.”

  “Let’s first see if it’s still there.”

  “No one would steal your truck. Kerry isn’t—” She looked over at him. “Never mind. I forgot about the gas station heist and the grocery store theft.” She shook her head. “Why did all this have to happen on my shift?” She shrugged. “Bad karma, I guess.”

  “Or else someone is trying to make sure you don’t get the sheriff’s position.”

  Her eyes widened. “You think the City Council is trying—”

  He snickered. “I wasn’t serious. People don’t commit murder to keep someone out of office.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  The paved road turned to dirt, and they bounced every time she hit a rut. Like his truck, the cruiser’s shocks needed a major overhaul, but he understood money didn’t flow in a town without jobs.

  As they neared the mine, he let out a long breath. “There she is.” Good. As soon as the gas tank and rim were fixed—and they solved two murders—he could leave town. Only he wasn’t anxious to go. He doubted that one kiss would make him want to hang around as he wasn’t the waiting type, but something seemed to be reeling him in, and it sure as hell wasn’t the aliens.

  Jessie pulled to a stop behind his truck, and he jumped out to stretch his sore leg. Dax then scanned the area. During the day, the place looked amazingly peaceful in comparison to the frightening way it had turned into at night. Birds chirped, the wind gently blew the tree branches, and the smell of pine and rich soil filled the air. At night, the forest had been a nightmare.

  “Aren’t you going to check out the damage?” she asked.

  “In a minute. I’m enjoying the scenery. Is that okay?”

  “Sure. It is pretty here. I just wished I could enjoy it.”

  Jessie probably had a hard night and an even harder morning. He wished he could help her get over the rough spots in her life, but he’d be gone soon, and it wouldn’t be fair to her—or to him—to get involved.

  He limped over to the passenger side and crouched in front of the tire. Jessie came up behind him, and he glanced up. “The bullet’s still there.”

  Her brows pinched. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Think about it. The bullet is evidence in a crime. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the guy came back and removed it, though the one in the gas tank would have required taking half the truck apart and might not have been worth his effort.” Or else the shooter didn’t believe Jessie would follow through with a seemingly small crime in comparison to two murders. “We should check the caliber and striation marks against the one found at Barton’s gas station. I’ll be curious to see if they match,” he said.

  “I agree. While you work on getting out the bullet, I’m going to have a look around,” she said.

  “Be careful.”

  After rifling through the toolkit he kept locked in the back of his truck, he grabbed the needle nosed pliers and plucked the bullet from the tire. Pocketing the evidence, he hobbled over to where Jessie was snooping. The mine’s multiple wooden structures seemed wobbly, but he figured the rails and elevator shafts had to be in better shape if the place only closed last year. Not that it mattered. He’d never go down in a mine again. His last experience, twenty-five years ago, had nearl
y cost him his life.

  Jessie tugged on the large padlock that led into the mine. “Still holds.”

  “Good.” Small footprints were scattered along the ground. “Looks like Sadie might have been here. Why do you think anyone would have cared enough to kill her?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see any evidence of anything illegal going on here that she might have discovered, and certainly nothing to deserve being murdered over.”

  “What kind of illegal things are we talking about?”

  “Moonshine, for one.” Jessie stepped away from the main entrance and walked around to the side. “Hey Dax, what do you think made those drag marks?”

  He checked them out. “The better question is, who made them?”

  Chapter 11

  Dax studied the markings in the sandy soil that ended at the main entrance. “Looks like someone dragged a couple of large crates through here. Do you think we should go down there to check it out?”

  Of course, the we meant Jessie. He’d never go down into the dark shaft—ever, but he figured Jessie wouldn’t mind, given her grandfather used to own the place until three years ago. She’d probably spent half her childhood down there.

  “We can’t get in legally, but I can ask Mr. Catchman if he wouldn’t mind us taking a peek.”

  She’d be doing the looking alone.

  Too bad cell phones didn’t work here or they could have called the owner and saved themselves a return trip. This lack of service was starting to irritate him. He’d forgotten how the luxury of having instant communication sped up crime solving. If he’d known, and had the money, he would have rented a satellite phone for the week since those worked anywhere.

  “Well, there’s nothing else here to give us a clue as to Sadie’s murder,” Jessie said, defeat written all over her face.

  “I’ll have to agree with you.”

  He headed back to his truck, gathered his tools that were probably worth more than his ten-year old vehicle, and placed the toolbox next to the cruiser. He then waited for Jessie to pop the trunk.

  Instead of returning, she stood at the entrance staring at the padlock. Wind blew her hair and billowed her shirt. It would have been such a pretty sight had it not been ruined by her sad stance.

  “Come on, Jessie. We have more work to do,” he shouted.

  She dropped her hand from the lock and headed his way. “I know. I’ll come back tomorrow since I don’t want to be away from Nana any longer.”

  The warm, soothing shower had relieved some of Jessie’s tension, but watching Nana and her friends pretend to play bridge renewed the knots in her shoulders.

  They all looked so sad and were surely missing their friend. Jessie missed Sadie just as much since she’d been like an aunt to her.

  Dax looked rather miserable too, sitting in the upholstered, flowered chair opposite her. Poor guy was flipping through a magazine without looking at the pages. Guess Helpful Hints To Cooking wouldn’t make his bestseller list any time soon. Jessie had told him she wasn’t sure she could handle these grieving women by herself, so he said he’d keep her company. Dax Mitchell was definitely a nice guy.

  A fresh plate of her favorite dessert sat on the coffee table within arm’s reach, and as much as she loved the smell of homemade chocolate chip cookies, tonight her appetite had flown out the window, along with her enthusiasm for doing anything but sitting.

  She didn’t even want to think about what to do with the boatload of food in the kitchen. Half the town must have emptied their refrigerators, along with The Sugar Shack, who’d donated more than a week’s worth of food. Nana and she wouldn’t have to cook for a long time.

  Mary Alice tossed her cards on the table. “I fold.”

  Eleanor, her partner, laid her hand gently on the corduroy tablecloth. “You don’t fold in bridge. You pass. Come on, Mary Alice. Sadie would want us to move on.”

  “I know, but it’s so hard. To think we’ll never see her again.” She turned to Dax and sniffled. “Did you see any evidence the aliens did this to her?”

  For the first time in two days, Jessie’s heart lightened. Good old Mary Alice. She lived for love—even if that love did come in the form of an alien.

  Dax’s mouth half opened before he shut it. “No. The markings definitely indicated her killer was of the human variety.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She almost looked angelic.

  Roberta held her cards close to her face. “I bid five clubs.”

  Nana, her partner, looked disgusted. “We can’t make five clubs.”

  “But you bid two no trump to my two clubs. Are you saying you lied about what you had?”

  “No, but, aw hell. I’m not in the mood to play anymore either. How can I concentrate knowing Sadie is looking down from above?” She tossed her cards in the middle of the table.

  “I agree.” Eleanor said.

  “Me too.” That came from Mary Alice.

  “Well shit.” Roberta sighed. “I finally have a twenty-four point hand and you all toss in your cards. Margaret, I’m taking the small slam.” She marked the score down on the pad. “I’m sure we would have bid and made that.”

  “That’s cheating,” Eleanor piped up. She turned to Nana. “Can she do that?”

  Jessie had had enough of the bickering. “Ladies, please. We’re all stressed tonight. How about if you put the cards away and I fix you a nightcap?”

  As if they were children promised candy if they behaved, they promptly shut up. Jessie looked to the heavens. If you’re up there, Sadie, thank you.

  Jessie brought two bottles in from the dining room liquor cabinet—one a Scotch and the other gin. Dax stepped next to her and lifted the bottles from her hands. “Here, let me help.”

  His musky aftershave sent a flutter through her stomach, which was the last thing she needed. “That’s okay, I’ll do it.” She wished her body didn’t turn traitor every time he came near.

  “I have to keep busy and can’t sit another moment,” he whispered. “The cooking mag isn’t doing it for me.”

  He was a good sport. “I really appreciate your support.”

  “You’re welcome.” He tilted her chin with one finger, and his amazing warm, brown eyes nearly made her forget her grief.

  Jessie pulled away, quickly grabbed four glasses, and placed them on the credenza. Dax poured the liquor while she readied the mixers.

  “Listen, Jessie. You do realize as soon as Walter gets me on the road, I’m out of here? Unless you need me to help with the crimes, that is.”

  Dax tapped the liquor bottle on the rim of the glass and looked at her, waiting for an answer.

  “I do. Need you, that is.” In more ways than one.

  Jessie pointed to Barton’s smashed security camera. “Take a look at the lens.”

  Dax walked around, checking the apparatus from all angles. “Someone had a damned fine aim.” The camera sat on a pole, ten feet above the ground, pointing directly at the two gas pumps. “Barton got a ladder?”

  “Probably,” Jessie said. “I can ask him.”

  Dax probably shouldn’t have offered to stay in town, but being here for another few weeks to help Jessie solve Kerry’s crimes wasn’t the worse thing he could do. She needed his help, and it was possible someone might come after her.

  Money didn’t grow on trees, which meant he should be back in Baltimore taking on more jobs, but doing nothing while he waited for his truck to get fixed wasn’t his style either. Hell, if he stayed, he might even get to sample those luscious lips again.

  As she headed to the convenience store, she swung her butt right then left enticing him. She sure caught his attention.

  A minute later a burly man with a mustache, wearing a red plaid shirt and worn jeans, walked out with Jessie and pointed around back.

  She continued on to Dax. “Barton will be here in a minute.”

  By the time Dax retrieved his needle nosed pliers from the trunk of the cruiser, the man had returned with the ladder.

>   The owner unfolded the metal legs that sent out a loud, grating sound and placed the creaky ladder under the camera. “Here ya go.”

  Jessie introduced them and they shook hands. Harold nodded. “I’ll go back in if you two don’t need me.”

  “Go ahead. Wouldn’t want you to keep the customers waiting,” Jessie said with a smile.

  “What customers?”

  Jessie chuckled and shooed him away. From what she’d told him, Kerry only had two gas stations, and given this one was farther out of town than the other one, Dax was surprised Harold stayed in business at all.

  Dax climbed the ladder and inspected the damage done by the bullet. “This is unbelievable. Whoever took the shot hit the lens dead on. He must have had a laser site on his weapon. No one’s that good without the help.”

  “Can you get the bullet out?”

  “I’ll try, but it’s lodged in there pretty tight.” Dax tugged and twisted until finally it broke free. “Gotcha.”

  A white Ford Taurus pulled up to the pump, and the driver rolled down the window. “So there you are. Jess, did you forget this was my first day?”

  Jessie’s eyes widened. “Oh, Amanda. I’m so sorry. I...I kind of got wrapped up in this case.”

  The blonde pulled the car onto a grassy area, parked, and then strutted over to the camera pole and looked up. “Hi, I’m Amanda Simmons, Jessie’s new deputy.”

  He glanced at Jessie for an explanation, but she was still focused on her new hire. Guess taking on Amanda had slipped her mind, because otherwise Jessie would have asked her new recruit to help rather than him. Technically, he’d offered, but if she had a reason for withholding the information, he hoped she’d tell him.

  Jessie stepped between Amanda and his ladder, acting almost protective.

  “This is Dax Mitchell. He’s a private investigator from Baltimore who came to find Sadie.”

  “Oh, really? Then I guess you’re almost done in Kerry, Mr. Mitchell.” Amanda struck a pose that he guessed she thought was sexy. Even in a uniform, she looked... well, cheap.