Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2 Page 8

  I’m off today, darn it. She handed her coffee and pastry to Sarah. “I’ll be back. Can you give the chief a ring?”

  “On it,” Sarah said.

  JJ stepped outside. In front of the grocery, a pickup had rear-ended a parked SUV. Thankfully, there were no dead or squashed bodies. Relief washed through her.

  A man stormed out of the grocery store and stopped at the sight of what was obviously his SUV. “What the fucking hell!” His face turned red.

  And here we go. JJ moved forward…because an intervention was all too liable to be necessary.

  The door of the pickup opened, and the driver slid out, hanging onto the door for balance. “Fuck me.” As he swayed, a bottle of alcohol—gin—rolled off his seat and broke into fragments on the pavement. He was flushed. Drunk.

  Lovely.

  “You dumb redneck,” the SUV owner shouted.

  The drunk turned, leaned into his cab, and reached for the shotgun mounted inside over the rear window.

  Oh, hell. Talk about escalating a conflict.

  “Police!” JJ strode forward and grabbed the SUV’s owner. “Sir, get into the store and wait for me. Now!” She shoved him in that direction.

  Not waiting to see if he obeyed, she headed for the drunk. He’d gotten one clip released when she spoke.

  “Hey there, mister.” She drew every ounce of sweet female to the forefront until her voice sounded like sugar. “That crunch sounded bad. Are you hurt?”

  Abandoning the shotgun, he pulled his head back out of the cab. His face changed as his anger faded. The SUV owner was gone; instead, there was a woman asking about his health.

  When he turned, JJ got a full blast of alcohol-laden breath in her face.

  “Hi.” He swayed.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t assume his lack of focus and balance was entirely due to the drink. He might be hurt and not even realize it, considering the amount of anesthetic in his system. “Sir, did you hit your head? Was your seatbelt on?”

  “Nah, the belt’s busted.”

  “How about your head?”

  He frowned and prodded at his forehead. “Maybe?”

  There was a definitive answer. She bit back a laugh. “Tell you what, let’s go over to the clinic across the street and have the doc make sure you’re all right.” She’d stall him over there until Gabe arrived. Since she wasn’t really a legal hire yet.

  “I dunno.” He looked between the damaged SUV and his pickup, as if wondering if he could simply drive away.

  “C’mon.” She linked her arm in his. “If you hit your head, all sorts of bad stuff could happen. We should—”

  Her words dried up.

  Because Cazador was leaning against a streetlight. Simply watching. Laughter glinted in his eyes as he tilted his head toward the clinic in a wordless: continue.

  He hadn’t stepped forward to take over. Was treating her as he would any officer—trusting her to deal with the drunk.

  The knowledge was as heady as a glass of champagne.

  Smiling, she led her giant lamby-pie across the street and into the clinic.

  Caz finished checking over the drunk, who would certainly be feeling the bruising when he sobered up, and handed him off to Gabe.

  As Gabe escorted the guy out, Caz leaned against the exam table and studied JJ, who’d perched on a stool in the corner. “I thought you were starting tomorrow, not today.”

  “So did I.” She wrinkled her nose, bunching the freckles together. So cute and yet the officer had been cool and competent during the incident.

  She shrugged. “After the SUV owner got this guy riled up enough to go for the shotgun in his pickup, it seemed like a good plan to step in.”

  “You did a nice job of calming the situation. That feminine syrup is more effective than a tranq.”

  “I’ve learned to use the tools I was given.”

  If she turned that seductively husky voice on him, he would follow her just about anywhere. No, Ramirez. Not going there.

  Turning away, he washed his hands. “You came out of the coffee shop—did you get a chance to enjoy your coffee?”

  “No, not even a sip. It’ll be cold now.” Her look of annoyance made him laugh.

  “Come, Officer Jenner. I’ll buy you another.”

  She frowned at him.

  “He wouldn’t have cooperated with me if you hadn’t stayed. You saved me work—and I have a craving for a cherry empanada.” Caz pulled off his lab coat, hung it on the hook, and held the door for her.

  He knew better than to spend time with her. But seeing her facing down the drunk had dried up all the spit in his mouth. He had a visceral need to know she was all right.

  In the lobby, Regina said, “Way to start early, Officer,” and gave JJ an approving smile.

  Caz could see the pleasure in JJ’s expression as she answered, “Thank you.”

  A look around the lobby showed no one was waiting for him. Perfect. “I’m taking half an hour for lunch, Regina.”

  “Got it, Doc. Enjoy.”

  In the coffee shop, Sarah didn’t even ask what they wanted—she handed over their pastries before narrowing her eyes at Caz. “I was surprised you didn’t step in to help her, Doc.” Her frown indicated what she thought of that.

  It’d been harder than hell not to. “Officer Jenner had it under control.”

  “Oh.” Sarah’s frown deepened, then she snorted. “And I accuse Uriah of being sexist? Sorry, Officer. Caz is right—you certainly didn’t need help. You handled that idiot perfectly.”

  JJ’s eyes lit.

  As they looked for seating, Caz noticed she chose a table near the back where she could watch everyone in the shop. Typical cop. He moved his chair to the side so he could do the same thing. Old habits never died.

  Leaning back, she studied him, “I appreciate that you didn’t come charging in.”

  “If you’d needed me, I would have.” He took a sip of his café de olla, enjoying how the sweet cinnamon flavor enhanced the coffee. After Sarah and Uriah had learned his liking for Mexican coffee, they kept him supplied. “Did you want someone to help out?”

  “No.” JJ’s gaze met his. “I’d have been annoyed if you had. At the same time, it was nice to know I had backup if I needed it.”

  “Always.” As she devoted herself to her strudel, he considered her. A puzzle, that’s what she was. Tough, yes, with the self-confidence of someone who knew she could do the job. Yet she didn’t have a hard-ass, macho attitude. Her skill at talking the drunk down had been excellent, and considering the amount of alcohol Alaskans tended to imbibe, the talent would prove useful. He could see why Gabe had hired her.

  Why had she come to Alaska? “Gabe said you’d had a hard time where you’d worked before.”

  “Law enforcement is still a nontraditional career for a woman. Some guys will never accept a woman working beside them.” She huffed out a breath. “When they stopped responding to my officer needs backup calls, I knew I had to leave.”

  Caz’s hand closed in a fist at the pain and frustrated anger in her voice. Gabe considered the police to be a kind of family. To be on the outside of that would leave an officer completely alone. “Well, you’ll probably have trouble with some of our set-in-their-ways Alaskans and the Patriot Zealots. But if you need help, you’ll get it, not only from Gabe, but from a lot of the rest of us as well.”

  “Thank you.”

  Although suppressed immediately, the faint quiver of her chin broke his heart. Yes, she’d experienced a hard time of it in her Nevada city.

  Gabe was right about something else, too. JJ didn’t need Caz’s reputation rubbing off on her. The best thing he could do for her would be to enjoy her friendship and keep it to that.

  * * *

  The bell over the door jingled, and several people entered. JJ gave them a quick glance, but when Caz stiffened, she took a closer look. Hmm.

  Two men in their forties led the way, talking to each other. One was rake-thin and six feet.
Black hair. Short, thick beard. Brown eyes. The other was five-eleven and lanky. Light brown hair. Clean-shaven. Both wore work shirts, jeans, boots and—dear God—were armed with semi-automatics in holsters.

  The two women silently following the men were dressed in ankle-length dark skirts and long-sleeved, button-up blouses as if they’d stepped out of some Amish romance.

  Not that JJ would admit to having read such romances.

  The men glanced at Cazador with disgusted expressions. JJ received a slow perusal, their gazes lingering on her chest. She’d been slotted into the sexual object category.

  Lowering her voice, she told Caz, “Although I’m in law enforcement, I admit I’d enjoy shooting their little dicks off.”

  The doc broke out laughing. “I’m sure Gabe would ask that you not add to the violence in our community.”

  His smile faded slightly. “Those are Patriot Zealots—the PZs as we call them. The brown-haired one is Reverend Parrish, the leader. Black beard is his second-in-command, Captain Nabera.” The twist of his mouth as he gave their titles showed a cynicism she rather enjoyed.

  She kept an eye on the men—and their weapons. Although, this winter, she’d attend the academy session for out-of-state LEO transfers, she’d already read up on Alaska rules and regs. The open-carry rules here were very liberal. “Not a real reverend or a captain?”

  “When researching, Audrey didn’t find any indication they’d earned either title.” He moved his shoulders. “That said, an organization can award any label they want.”

  “True.” She ran her finger through the condensation left by her cup. “Did Audrey’s research on their backgrounds turn up anything…interesting?”

  The corners of Cazador’s eyes crinkled. “You like gossip? You’re a person after my own heart.”

  She drew herself up in token affront. “It’s not gossip. It’s essential information for a law enforcement officer.”

  “Yes, yes, of course it is.” The laughter in his dark eyes didn’t fade one bit. “The good Reverend Parrish comes from Texas. Was a college dropout, worked as a store clerk in Houston. Has been married three times. Got restraining orders on him by two of those wives. He crewed for a televangelist where he probably got the idea for this scam. After starting the PZs in Texas, he moved them here with a core group a few years ago.”

  “I see.” Or maybe she didn’t. She’d never understand people like this. “Where is their money coming from?”

  “Apparently, new members turn over everything to the organization. They also get donations. They have a website advocating a return to the days when men were men and women were property.” The doc looked as if even the words tasted bad.

  “Isn’t that precious.”

  “As an officer, you’ll be a visible counter to those ideas. I like that; however…” The doc’s troubled gaze met hers. “It also makes you a target for these rabid idiots. Be very careful, Officer Jenner.”

  He cared. After Weiler, it felt strange to have someone worry about her. Strange…and wonderful.

  Chapter Seven

  A sharp knife cuts the quickest and hurts the least. ~ Katharine Hepburn

  * * *

  At a back table in the roadhouse, Caz was talking with Gabe and Audrey about Bull’s plans for Alaska Day. A holiday for many people, October 18th would be an interesting time at the Bull’s Moose. Not that his police chief brother would get the day off.

  “Isn’t that JJ?” Audrey asked, pointing toward the door.

  “So, it is.” Gabe waved his officer over.

  Dammit. For the last week, Caz had avoided the pretty officer, as he’d told Gabe he would. It helped that she worked long hours, learning the ins and outs of Alaska small-town police work. Gabe was damn happy with how she’d taken hold, and from the comments around town, most of the residents were pleased.

  However, having her living right next door was a test of his willpower.

  She got to him. He admitted it. The big eyes, the freckles, the way she moved that spoke of martial arts training. The way her jeans cupped her ass.

  He’d never before had a problem ignoring a woman’s physical appeal. But she got to him on an emotional level as well.

  When she fed scraps to the chickens, her face would light up as the hens gathered around her feet. In the evenings, she would play the flutesad music that spoke of a lonely heart and made him want to hold her. Sometimes she’d simply sit in the gazebo to watch the sun going down over the snow-covered mountain peaks.

  She liked the simple things in life…and he liked her.

  It would be easier if he didn’t.

  He and Gabe rose as she walked to the table. Her duty belt was gone, and she’d changed her khaki uniform shirt for a blue-green sweater, which brought out the turquoise color of her eyes.

  “Sit, guys.” She smiled at Audrey. “I didn’t mean to disturb your evening. I just popped in here to get one of Bull’s burgers to take home.”

  “You’re not disturbing us. Join us.” Audrey motioned to a chair.

  Pleasure swept over JJ’s face at the invitation.

  And Caz felt again that uncomfortable desire to simply hold her. Instead, he pulled the chair out for her. “Sit, JJ.”

  Her gaze met his, and a light flush appeared on her cheeks as she let him seat her.

  Sitting back down, he glanced at the clock. Ten at night. She’d worked the noon-to-eight shift and was just finishing? “It’s unhealthy to work too much overtime or skip meals, Officer Jenner.”

  She grimaced. “I know, but that’s police work. Why did I think a small town would be quieter than a city?”

  “Small towns are quieter…in a way.” Gabe grinned. “No gang warfare, few murders. But two LEOs aren’t many for a growing populace. It’ll quiet down soon. Some. I do want you to take your breaks and leave on time if at all possible.”

  “Of course, sir,” she said politely.” The quirk of her lips showed Gabe was being optimistic.

  Gabe lifted his drink in rueful agreement.

  Yes, she was working out well for the chief.

  Felix trotted over and took her order for a Coke, burger, and fries. The waiter patted her shoulder, obviously liking the officer. “Anyone else?”

  “We’re good, thanks,” Gabe said.

  “So very good, yes.” Felix grinned at Caz before heading back to the bar.

  JJ shook her head. “Everyone just falls at your feet, don’t they, Doc.”

  “Sadly, not everyone, no.” He heaved a desolate sigh.

  Her lips tipped up.

  It seemed he wasn’t the only one who remembered how she’d turned him down. He met her gaze, letting her see his regret, and found an answering spark in her eyes. “Actually, when it comes to appeal, Bull leaves me in the dust.”

  Behind the bar, Bull was enjoying his work, mixing drinks, talking with his customers. His laugh rang out as he traded jokes with one man, puns with an older woman, and sternly told a younger man that he wouldn’t get another drink unless he handed over his car keys. A quartet of young women were giggling at whatever he said, pulling necklines down to show off cleavage, and flipping their hair. They paid for their drinks in a way that their hands would touch Bull’s.

  Poor Bull.

  “You’re treated to about the same amount of attention, Caz,” Audrey said. “The difference is you don’t really mind, and you’re extremely skilled at diverting interested women. Although he hides it, Bull hates being lusted over, and he’s not as good at escaping.”

  Caz tilted his head, surprised at her insight. “True enough. It’s nice that most women do take a hint.” Most, not all. Some went after a man like avid fishermen would go after a king salmon.

  “Poor guys,” JJ said in mock commiseration.

  He understood, actually. No female would be very sympathetic to a male whining about attracting female attention. He and Bull might grow tired of being importuned, but they’d never been fearful of being assaulted. “It’s a tough job, barten
ding,” he said lightly.

  Gabe grinned then asked his officer, “By the way, JJ, did you find out who set out the illegal bear bait?”

  “It was one of EmmaJean’s renters, Chief.” She glanced at Caz and Audrey. “The guy set up a bear bait station near the new B&B off Swan. He wanted to sit on his balcony and shoot a bear.”

  Caz straightened. “That’s crazy.” There were laws against putting bait stations close to habitation.

  “Hunters.” JJ shrugged. “I transferred the problem to Fish and Game.”

  Gabe snorted. “The dumbass thought he’d catch bear in October? Well, the brown hats’ll be happy to deal with him.”

  A phone rang. Caz’s cell. He frowned as he pulled it out. The clinic was closed, and emergencies would go to the borough dispatcher and on-call staff at the Soldotna Hospital.

  The display was for a social services department. Now? Someone was putting in overtime. “This is Ramirez,” he said.

  “Cazador Ramirez?”

  “Yes. Forgive me, but I’m in a noisy area. Can you speak up, please?”

  “Of course.” The woman’s voice wasn’t young. “I can’t believe I located you.”

  “I didn’t know I was missing.” Caz realized he had the attention of everyone at the table now.

  “Well, you weren’t, not exactly, but, this is going to be difficult to explain. I’m Mrs. Townsend with the Sacramento County Department of Child, Family, and Adult Services.” There was a rustling of papers before she continued. “Back when you were in the military, apparently you had…well, intimate relations…with a woman by the name of Crystal Hodge.”

  The name was vaguely familiar. “Ma’am, I was discharged from the military”—he had to think—“over six years ago. Is there a point to this?”

  Across the table from him, Gabe frowned.

  JJ’s head was tilted.

  “It would have been about a decade ago,” the woman said.

  Ten years ago. That was the year his fiancée had been killed by an insurgent. He realized Mrs. Townsend was still talking. Clearing the thickness from his throat, he said, “I’m sorry, I missed what you said. Can you repeat that?”