Page 11

Chapter 11

Jay

I declined Emily’s offer for dinner, earning an undeserved scowl from Jamie. My answer was polite and appreciative, so I figured it had more to do with me depriving him of an opportunity to lecture me than being rude to his fiancée.

“It smells delicious.” I asked, “Can you save me some leftovers?”

“Of course.” Emily was all smiles. She was good for Jamie, her love helping him heal after the devastating loss of his first wife.

Jamie was born to be a family man, so getting a second chance at love was exactly what he needed. Emily, too. Her abusive ex was six feet under after being dumb enough to point a gun at Dad.

Dude got what he deserved. Karma’s a bitch.

I wondered if karma would serve my ex-girlfriend, Sara, and my ex best friend, Henderson, what they deserved. I hoped so.

I need to burn off some energy . I changed into my running clothes, put on my weighted vest, and ran until everything hurt.

The run was supposed to be therapeutic, clearing my mind of the memories of Sara’s betrayal and my fight with Maxwell.

Instead, I couldn’t stop thinking about how incredibly fucking sexy Maxwell looked when she was angry. Or how she accepted full responsibility for our scuffle, and defended me when given the chance. She may have done it to save face, given the circumstances, but I didn’t think so. Maxwell was a lot of things, but I’d never seen her kiss ass or lie.

I wasn’t proud of myself for pushing her that far, but I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed watching her lose control. Or how my body reacted to having her in my arms, the scent of her sweet strawberry shampoo filling my nose. Even if she was only there so I could prevent her from hitting me again.

I bet she’s a hellcat in bed .

Oh hell no! No way was I letting my mind wander down that path. Maxwell and I were like fire and ice, bring us together and we’d destroy each other.

Ignoring the pain, knowing I deserved it, I pushed myself harder, running until my stomach threatened to purge it contents.

Still ashamed and not ready to deal with Jamie’s disappointed big brother attitude, I showered in record time and ducked out to go to a bar for dinner and a beer. Great, now I’m acting like a coward .

I was half done with my burger and had just ordered my second beer when a Quick Wash commercial caught my attention, triggering the memory of the business card on Darling’s refrigerator. One I hadn’t given a second thought. Until now.

A piece of the puzzle snapped into place. What middle-class mechanic used a laundry service?

Maybe it was Wendy’s? Which made even less sense. I know my perception of nineteen-year-olds was skewed because I was in the military, but I didn’t think teenaged waitresses used laundry services.

I pulled out my phone and looked it up. The longer I stared at their website, the more convinced I was that something was hinky.

I chugged the last of my beer, paid my bill, and raced home.

Searching the company’s website would be easier on my laptop. At first glance it seemed typical; they had industrial sized do-it-yourself machines, drop off wash and fold services, and same day dry cleaning.

Something nagged at me as I clicked through the images, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Leaning back in the chair, I stretched with a giant yawn.

“What are you working on?” Jamie asked from behind me.

“Darling case. A commercial I saw triggered a memory.” I pointed at my screen. “He had a Quick Wash laundry service business card on his fridge, which doesn’t fit with what we know about him. It might be connected to Wendy’s disappearance, but I can’t put it together.”

“What’s your gut say?” he asked as he leaned over my shoulder to read my screen.

“It’s connected.” Even if I can’t tie it together yet.

“Walk me through it.”

Not knowing if he’d read our full report, I summed it up. Because the report only contained the facts, I added my observations and impressions along the way.

My eyes kept going back to the address on the webpage, because I was so engrossed I didn’t hear Jamie’s question.

“That’s it!” I pointed at the address on the screen as it clicked together.

I pulled up the photo of the slip of paper we found in Wendy’s trash.

“I couldn’t find the address earlier when I searched because it’s off by a digit. But there’s no way it’s a coincidence.” The address on the slip of paper had a suite number that didn’t exist, at least not in Fort Worth.

“In our line of work, there’s no such thing as a coincidence. Talk to Maxwell tomorrow and figure out your next steps,” Jamie said. “Good catch.”

“Thanks.” For the first time in a long time, there was no sarcasm in my voice.

When my toothbrush rubbed the cut on the inside of my cheek, I winced. Then I smiled. Maxwell throws a mean punch.

The thought of getting punched by a co-worker shouldn’t have turned me on, but it did .

How the hell was I supposed to work the case when my partner pissed me off as much as she turned me on? Or does she turn me on as much as she pisses me off?

It didn’t matter. I had to figure out a way to ignore her attitude, and my suddenly intense physical attraction, so I could work with her. Her holier than thou attitude was a pretty good mood killer. Maybe it won’t be a problem .

I also needed to apologize, without starting a fight.