Men Out of Uniform

  “We could call around and see if anyone from the cable company, electric company, gas, city whatever has been seen at the victim’s residence,” Rick suggested.

  Truitt shook his head. “We’ve already covered that angle. No utility trucks or men in uniform or otherwise were spotted in these neighborhoods. It was one of the first things I thought of.”

  Rick blew out his breath. His headache was only getting bigger.

  “You guys go home,” the chief said. “You aren’t any good to me in your present condition. I’m going to get with the mayor and call a joint press conference immediately. I don’t care what kind of panic I incite. The women of our city are going to have to be careful.”

  Rick nodded, resigned to the fact that there was another woman out there that he likely couldn’t save, who might already be in the hands of a maniac.

  “Let’s go get a drink,” he said to Truitt.

  It wasn’t like he’d ever sleep, because when he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the image of a beautiful young woman covered in dirt and blood.

  Chapter 10

  With makeup and her hair fixed, Jessie didn’t resemble the photo that had aired on the news. She wasn’t sure how the hell they’d managed to drag up the picture they had. Jessie had looked hung over, and since she rarely imbibed to excess, it wasn’t like she’d had many opportunities to be photographed drunk off her ass.

  Tonight, though, she was going to make an exception and blow off some serious steam and anxiety.

  “Holy crap, it’s loud in here!” Jessie exclaimed when they entered the corner bar.

  “What?”

  Jessie leaned in closer. “I said it’s loud in here!”

  Kirsten nodded and grinned. Then she motioned toward the bar and the two women threaded their way through the crowd. As they reached the counter, the music stopped, though Jessie’s ears kept thumping right along.

  “Thank God,” Kirsten said. “Now we won’t have to holler to order a drink.”

  The bartender was cute in a preppy sort of way but Jessie found her mind wandering to the two rough-edged cops who’d rocked her world in bed and shattered it out of bed.

  The women accepted their drinks and Kirsten turned around, drink in hand, to survey the assortment of people in the dimly lit interior.

  “Looks like pickings are slim tonight,” Kirsten muttered. “Not too many cute ones.”

  “That’s your problem,” Jessie said. “You like them cute when you should be looking for a harder edge. Something that screams badass and I’ll rock your world in bed.”

  “Uh-huh, well we’re not all queen of the threesome,” Kirsten said dryly.

  “Oh God, that sounds so dirty when you say it,” Jessie groaned.

  Kirsten chuckled. “You’re cute when you blush. Besides, don’t listen to me. I’m a jealous bitch right now because I’d die a happy woman to get it on with two gorgeous guys.”

  She threw back her drink and chugged it down then she held out the hand with the glass in it and bumped Jessie’s arm. “Bottoms up, girlfriend. The night is young and we’re wasting good booze.”

  Jessie complied, tipping up her glass and swallowing down the tart drink.

  Kirsten turned around, ordered refills, and then asked for six shots of Patrón.

  “Oh, hell no,” Jessie said. “You aren’t getting me to shoot tequila.”

  “Don’t be a whiny bitch and drink up. I’m buying tonight.”

  Jessie grimaced then gingerly picked up one of the shot glasses. “We’re crazy.”

  “But we’re cute crazy,” Kirsten said with a grin.

  She held up her shot glass, clinked it against Jessie’s, and then both of them put the rim to their mouths and tipped back their heads at the same time.

  It was like swallowing fire.

  Jessie came back wheezing, her eyes watering. Around them applause broke out and it was then she realized that she and Kirsten had an audience.

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  Kirsten shrugged. “Let’s give them a show.”

  Chants of “Drink, drink, drink ” filled the air and Jessie reached for the second shot. A moment later it felt like the lining was stripped from her esophagus but the alcohol was down and swimming around her stomach.

  “One more and then let’s dance,” Kirsten said. She thumbed in the direction of the band that was returning from break.

  By now Jessie couldn’t remember what her original complaint had been but she was game for some dancing. It had been a while and she could shake her ass with the best of them.

  They toasted again, slogged down the shot, and then Kirsten hollered to the bartender. “Get us another set up. We’ll be back after this song!”

  She grabbed Jessie’s arm and dragged her to the dance floor just as the first chords blared over their eardrums.

  Within moments they had a crowd around them, a mixture of guys and girls. Jessie let the music and rhythm roll through her body, already loosened by the alcohol. She closed her eyes and let the rush of exhilaration flood her chest.

  Relief. Bone-melting relief. Freedom from the fear that had permeated the very air around her for the last few days.

  She and Kirsten whooped it up, together and separately. It was probably well established that they were lesbians with the way they bumped and ground all over each other. The shouted “I love you”s also might have done the trick, but none of the guys seemed to mind. The more exuberant she and Kirsten got, the more guys flocked to the dance floor.

  When the long set was over, Kirsten dragged her toward the bar where their drinks waited.

  “Okay, let’s do this again,” Kirsten shouted over the music. “Then we dance.”

  “If I don’t puke first!”

  By now a few others had joined in the shotfest and the bartender lined up an entire row of Patrón. Eager hands grabbed the glasses, and after a raucous count of three, they began downing them one after another.

  “Do you see what I see?” Rick muttered as he and Truitt stood in the doorway of the pub.

  Truitt’s eyes narrowed as he zeroed in on the bar where Jessie stood with a crowd around her. She was rapidly downing shots along with another woman about her age.

  “Yeah, I see.”

  “What the ever-loving hell is she doing?”

  “Looks like she’s getting drunk,” Truitt said dryly.

  Before they could move in the direction of the bar, the woman with Jessie slammed down her glass and then took Jessie’s hand and dragged her onto the dance floor.

  What followed left Truitt’s tongue hanging down and his pants uncomfortably tight. The woman moved like a dream, all curves and softness, undulating in rhythm to the music.

  Her breasts were plumped up—had to be one of those Wonderbra contraptions—and nearly spilling out of the top she wore. Or didn’t wear. Hell, it was hard to tell from here whether she was more into the shirt or more out of it.

  But what really set his teeth on edge was the number of men surrounding Jessie, all trying to touch her and get up in her space.

  “She’s wasted,” Rick growled.

  “Oh, you think?”

  “Well, we can’t barge in and flash our badges. After her experiences with the police this week, she’d never speak to us again. Which means we’re just going to have to pretend we’re her pissed-off boyfriends and wade in to drag her off.”

  “Uhm, there might be a problem with that,” Truitt pointed out. “It would appear she’s here with her friend. I didn’t see Jessie’s car in the parking lot. Which means we’re going to have to take both of them.”

  “Whose boyfriend are you going to be?” Rick drawled.

  Truitt scowled. “I’ll take Jessie. You take the other one.”

  “She’s not bad,” Rick said. “She’s not Jessie, but she’s a looker. If I hadn’t seen Jessie first, I’d absolutely do her.”

  Truitt rolled his eyes. “Come on. I can’t stand this a minute longer. There’s no telling how
long they’ve been at it.”

  They waded through the crowd, Truitt scowling at people who seemed all too willing to give him and Rick a wide berth. When they reached the women, they were sort of squatting, Jessie’s back and ass nestled against her friend’s chest and groin, and they bobbled up and down looking for all the world like they were putting on an erotic peep show.

  At least Truitt understood why they’d drawn such a crowd now.

  Truitt stood there, waiting for Jessie to see him and Rick. He planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. Some of the crowd had moved back to widen the perimeter so that it now encompassed him and Rick. And they all looked on with avid interest like they were sure the fireworks were about to start.

  When Jessie and her friend did finally turn, their reactions were nothing short of amusing. Jessie halted abruptly, her eyes wide. Beside her, the friend also stopped and she stared boldly, raking her gaze up and down his body until he felt a might embarrassed.

  “Are these your cops, Jessie?”

  Now the problem with that question is that it just happened to pop out just when the last note died and a window of silence crept in before the room erupted in applause and whistles.

  Jessie seemed to recover from her surprise and scowled. It was a cute scowl too. Her nose scrunched up and she had such a look of belligerence that Truitt was reminded of a bulldog.

  “No, they aren’t my cops,” she shouted.

  Rick took a step forward until he was so close to Jessie she was forced to tilt her neck to look up at him.

  “Yes, we are her cops.”

  Jessie shook her head, all the while Rick nodded.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll take just one and leave the other to me?” her friend asked mournfully.

  Rick grinned and Truitt’s mouth twitched.

  “You can have them both. With my blessing,” Jessie said crossly. “They’re jerks.”

  “Well yeah, but they’re gorgeous jerks. Do y’all know how to grovel?”

  Truitt blinked in confusion at the abrupt change in direction of the conversation. “Grovel?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking you’ll need to do some serious groveling to get Jessie to forgive you. She’s been through hell the last few days. We’re out to blow off some steam. You might have just ruined her night.”

  “What’s your name, doll?” Rick asked.

  “Kirsten, and I’m her friend. Her best friend. So if she doesn’t want to go with you then she stays with me,” she said fiercely.

  “You’re both coming with us,” Truitt said. “You’re both wasted and we’re going to make sure you get home safely. Now you can come quietly or we can haul you out over our shoulders. Either way, you’re coming.”

  Kirsten blinked and Jessie’s eyes widened again. Neither seemed to know quite what to make of that.

  Then Jessie’s brows scrunched together and she thrust up her chin. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. Particularly to Rick because telling him he wouldn’t dare was like waving a pork chop at a starving pitbull.

  Rick simply plucked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and rested his hand possessively on her ass.

  “I’m going, I’m going!” Kirsten exclaimed as she put her hands in the air. “Just point me in the direction.”

  “Hey, put me down!” Jessie exclaimed.

  Truitt was already pulling out his badge as he herded Kirsten toward the door. Rick followed close behind and Truitt held up his badge when the security guard got a look at Jessie and frowned.

  The guard relaxed when he saw the badge and motioned for Rick to pass on out the door.

  When they hit the parking lot, Rick strode toward his truck with Jessie’s pert little ass thrust skyward. He opened the back, eased her onto the seat, and then scowled at her as he stood inside the door.

  “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking. You shouldn’t have been out on the dance floor drunk off your ass when you’ve got a bum knee. You’re going to regret it tomorrow.”

  Truitt guided Kirsten around so she could sit beside Jessie in the backseat and then he climbed into the front. He turned just as Rick shut the door and he slid his gaze over Jessie.

  “You okay? Your knee hurt?”

  “No,” Jessie mumbled.

  “She’s not feeling anything right now,” Kirsten said smugly.

  “I guess not,” Rick said as he climbed in. “Just how much have you girls had to drink?”

  Kirsten shrugged. “Six . . . seven ... maybe ten shots.”

  “Jesus,” Truitt muttered. “Ten? That’s enough alcohol to put an elephant to sleep, for God’s sake. What were you shooting?”

  “Patrón.”

  “Oh my God,” Rick groaned. “Are you two insane?”

  “She wanted to celebrate,” Kirsten defended. “Isn’t that right, Jessie?”

  She turned as she said the last and then leaned over Jessie who’d gone quiet.

  “Jessie?”

  Jessie had her head on the window, mouth half open, and she was passed out cold.

  Chapter 11

  Why don’t you just take me home and then you can take Jessie V home with you,” Kirsten said as they pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m sober. Really. And then you could do your groveling in private. That is, when she regains consciousness . . .”

  Rick glanced back at Kirsten. “I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”

  Kirsten made a face. “I’m a big girl. Besides, I can hold my liquor. Mutant genes or something. I can pack a lot of alcohol into a small body. No one ever knows how I do it without passing out in my own puke.”

  Truitt grimaced at that visual and Rick chuckled.

  “Okay, doll. We’ll take you home and put you to bed. And then we’re taking Jessie home with us so we can do our . . . groveling.”

  Kirsten smirked. “I knew you two couldn’t be all bad.”

  After getting directions to Kirsten’s apartment, which suited Rick just fine because now they knew where to find Jessie, he dropped Kirsten off and saw her inside, testing her sobriety himself. The woman hadn’t lied. She could drink an astonishing amount of liquor and still be completely coherent.

  Jessie on the other hand ...

  He glanced back to where Jessie still lay against the glass and then drove toward Truitt’s place. When he pulled into the drive, Truitt got out and carefully opened the door so Jessie wouldn’t flop sideways.

  Truitt unbuckled her and lifted her out. He held her close as he walked toward the house, and Rick felt keen disappointment that she wasn’t snuggled in his arms. He wanted to touch her so badly he ached.

  The last days had been torture for him and Truitt both. First the thought that she’d used them and then the fear that no matter what she’d done that she’d be arrested and jailed. And finally the realization of just how wrong they’d been about her and the dread of losing her when they’d only just managed to finally get with her.

  “Should I put her straight to bed or attempt to sober her up?” Truitt asked when they were inside.

  “Put her on the bed. I’ll make some coffee and we’ll see if we can wake her up.”

  Truitt shouldered his way down the hall carrying Jessie, and Rick went to put on a pot of coffee.

  Ten minutes later, he carried a steaming mug to the bedroom and found Jessie curled up against Truitt. Truitt met Rick ’s gaze as Rick set the cup down on the nightstand and then leaned down close to Jessie’s ear.

  “Jessie, Jessie, baby, wake up, okay?”

  Truitt trailed a finger over her cheek and suddenly Rick couldn’t stand it another moment. He crawled on the bed and levered himself down so he was close to her. He didn’t want her to wake up and be freaked out. He wanted her ... comfortable. Secure.

  “Jessie,” he murmured, adding his voice to Truitt’s. “Wake up, honey. Open those gorgeous brown eyes and look at me. I’ve got some coffee you need to drink.”

  At that her eyelids flutt
ered and her unfocused stare met Rick ’s. Then her nose wrinkled.

  “Don’t want coffee,” she muttered.

  Rick chuckled and his heart softened. Hell, he wanted to pull her onto his body and let her sleep there like a warm blanket.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Just then Truitt nibbled at her shoulder and she jerked her head back, her eyes flaring in surprise as her gaze settled on him.

  “We live here,” Truitt said.

  “Then what am I doing here?” she grumbled. “You were jerks. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I was celebrating and having fun. Now I’m not having fun.”

  “If you weren’t such a cute drunk kitten we’d show you how much fun you could be having,” Rick said.

  She gave him a disgruntled look but she didn’t argue further.

  “The room is spinning and I don’t feel so good,” she said.

  Sure enough she’d gone awfully pale and sweat beaded her forehead.

  “You need to puke?”

  “Dunno. Maybe I should just go take a shower.”

  Truitt raised a brow from behind her shoulder. Yeah, Rick wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t about to let her go take a nosedive in the shower and crack her skull.

  “You get a shower only if one of us goes in with you,” Rick said.

  She frowned again but then swallowed and licked her lips. “I don’t care. I just need to get up. My stomach’s queasy.”

  Rick scrambled up and reached down to pluck her off the bed. When he got to the bathroom he parked her by the toilet and after making sure she wasn’t going to fall face-first into the bowl, he reached over to turn the shower on.

  When he turned back, she was asleep again, her cheek pressed against the toilet seat. His chest shook with laughter and he reached down to hoist her up so he could get her clothes off.

  Quickly deciding this was a two man job, he called for Truitt who popped in a second later. Truitt lifted a brow and amusement twinkled in his eyes.

  “Having trouble?” Truitt asked with a grin.

  “You could say that. Help me get her clothes off.”

  Between the two of them, they managed to hold Jessie upright and get her clothes off.