Checkered Crime: A Laurel London Mystery (8 page)

Something in my con artist gut told me something was fishy.

I leaned over just enough to take the beer and just enough for Jax to hear me whisper, “It takes a con to know a con and you aren’t fooling me, Jax Jackson.” My heart was being fooled by him. Definitely being fooled. But my head wasn’t. I did the “I got my eyes on your gesture” with my fingers.

The arrogant devil shot me a smile and winked. Immediately I went over to the ball rack where Gia was testing out every single bowling ball. It was the same crap every week. First she’d pick up a ball, put her fingers in it, hold it up to eye level and give it a good once over before she pretended to bowl with it. She did this to every single ball in the rack. And every single time she picked the purple one, size ten.

“There is something going on with him,” I whispered in her ear as she was eyeing the blue ball with gold flecks all over it.

“Who cares?” She did her pretend roll.

“One of these days you are going to let go of that thing and it’ll go right through the display case.” I pointed to the glass case where there were shoes, gloves, balls, and Lucky Strike paraphernalia on sale. Bud was hunched over leaning on his elbows on the counter. He had a piece of straw sticking out of his bearded mouth. He looked so grizzly, you couldn’t see his lips. “Bud and Sheila will not like that.”

“Why don’t you leave Jax Jackson well enough alone and go hang out with Antonio?” Gia got all sassy by snapping her finger in the air and rotating her neck like she had a crook in it.

“Have you seen Antonio?” I asked.

“So he’s gained a few.” Gia chomped her gum and looked over at Antonio. “Okay, a lot. He’s a nice guy.”

“Fine.” I shrugged and headed over to the shoe counter where Shelia was passing out the lovely accessory.

“Good evening, Laurel. How have you been?” Sheila had on her skintight v-neck shirt with the bowling balls on it and her black leggings.

“Good. I need a size eight please.” I smiled. “Your hair looks nice.”

“Oh that.” She grinned and pushed her fingertips in the sides of her flaming red hair. “Yea, Bud doesn’t like it too good, but I do. Makes me a little frisky if you know what I mean.” She winked before she went to retrieve my size eights.

What was it with the winking around here?

“Unfortunately, I don’t know what you mean.” I gulped before I took the shoes. The idea of my feet going into something where thousands of feet have gone, kind of gave me the creeps every single time. I have to physically make my mind not think about it on bowling night. Sheila claims she cleans them real good. I’ve seen what she means by real good and it came in an aerosol can. Still not good enough for me. I carried a can of Lysol in my hobo just for instances like bowling night.

“You mean that hot guy with the accent isn’t with you?” Sheila pointed her long lean finger with the red hot painted fake fingernail toward my group. “I heard you’ve been carting him around in a fancy new car before stopping at the Windmill to do God knows what.”

“Oh my God!” I grabbed the ugly shoes out of Sheila’s other hand and marched back to the group, anger boiled my blood seeing Jax Jackson in one of our Here For The Beer tie-dyed shirts. It was all I needed to put me over the edge. “What is he doing in our shirt?”

Steam rolled out of my ears.

“Antonio, this is Laurel.” Gia ignored my question by smiling and turning toward Antonio.

“Is this the babe that’s gonna sleep with me?” A snarky grin tipped his lips making my stomach curl. “I thought you said she was hot?” He turned to Carmine who shrugged.

“Trust me,” I put very little distance between my nose and his, “I don’t need help finding a date and he sure wouldn’t smell like bologna like you do.”

Alex Fiddle pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. He swallowed hard. “Man, why did you have to go and piss her off?”

“Yea, don’t you know her history?” Adam Fiddle ran his hands through his short black hair. These days the twins were wearing their hair shorter on the sides and a little longer on the top with a side part. I had to say that it was working for them. The older they got, the cuter they got.

The Fiddles were always a set of scrawny little guys. We, the orphan kids, always told them to steal some of their dad’s meat and eat.

“Do you think I’d waste my time driving down here on that?” Antonio’s nose curled as he looked my body up and down. “I like a little more meat on my girl’s bones. You know?” He did a little air grinding, making my stomach curl at the thought. “Something to hold on to.”

The guys chuckled.

I inhaled deeply and stood up straight, shook my hair behind my head with my chin up in the air and grabbed the bottle of beer out of Jax’s hands, chugging down what he had left in it. Normally I wouldn’t have anything to do with back wash and drinking after strangers, but there wasn’t anything normal about this situation.

“Let’s get this game going.” I tossed the bottle in the trash. I pointed directly at Jax. “Get me another one.”

The group dropped to silent, barely breathing. I grabbed the Lysol can out of my bag and sprayed the insides of the shoes. I threw the can to Gia before I gripped my bowling ball. I took a couple of steps forward toward the lane. I cupped my wrist and quickly opened it at the top of my swing. I used the old plant and pull method for more leverage on the ball because the speed and power helped me get out my frustration.

Slowly I turned around and walked back toward the team with my ears on full alert. I knew it was a great bowl and a strike was in my foreseeable future. The whiz of the ball struck the pins, knocking all of them down.

“Damn.” Jax leaned to the right to look over my shoulder at the strike. He leaned back staring at me
—
his mouth open.

I walked right past him and grabbed the beer he had gotten me.

“Close your mouth.” I heard Gia say to him. “She’s a cranker.” Gia referred to the delivery style I had chosen to do.

“She’s something,” Jax said in a little sarcastic tone. “I never bowl. I’m terrible.”

Derek walked up. He surveyed the group and did a head nod Carmine’s way who head nodded back. Some sort of guy talk was going on because the two of them shrugged.

Derek was always late on Monday night because after lunch he had to drive to class and would make it just in time for him to be the last bowler on the team, in the first round.

It was apparent he felt the same way I did about Jax. Derek plopped down in the plastic seat next to me and dropped his shoes making us all look after they smacked down on the old tile floor.

“What’s he doing here?” Derek asked in a hushed whisper. He didn’t look at me. He took off his shoes and slipped the bowling shoes on.

“How do you know him?” I asked back when Jax was out of earshot. He was next to bowl.

I couldn’t help but smile when he crossed the foul line and the alarm sounded throughout Lucky Strikes. All the other teams looked and started to jab each other in pleasure. Everyone wanted to beat Here For The Beer, especially since all the other teams were members of the local AARP.

“Trixie called and told me you were prostituting. Then she called back because she said you weren’t prostituting. Then I grabbed a BLT to go from The Cracked Egg on my way to class and Gia happened to mention you were in there with some stranger that you conned into thinking your car was a taxi.” He clenched his jaws. There was no forgiveness in his eyes. “What happened to Quick Copy? I thought you were trying to be on the level when I gave you that car.”

“I am.”
Damn
, Gia. Her loose lip always got me in trouble.

I snuck a peek over at her. Her face was flush. It was apparent she knew he was reading me my Miranda Rights about my apparent bad decision of picking up a stranger and how I could have been killed, left for dead, and not found in years.

In the background, I took pleasure when I saw Jax had a split in order to get a spare.
Newbie.

“He is the one who needed a ride and I wasn’t going to do it for free since I have no job. Gas is expensive and I swear that Baxter Thacker is charging me more than other customers.” I jabbed his bicep. “That is who you need to investigate first when you get your badge, or whatever it is that you get. Highway robbery I tell you!”

I had to get the heat off me.

Ugh
. I inwardly groaned when I saw Jax’s ball spin and whirl, hitting the ten pin and whipping it to the other side, knocking down the seven pin.

“Oh! I’m next.” I shrugged and jumped up avoiding any more scolding from Derek.

Along the way I passed Jax who was strutting back to the group because of his little fake
“I’m not a good bowler”
act.

“Lucky bowl I guess.” He shrugged. He smiled when I glared at him. The power of his gaze sent my heart into a twirly whirl
—
like those little helicopters that fell from trees. I swallowed hard. “Get another strike,” he said.

“She will.” Derek stood up. His legs were planted in a cop stance. His arms crossed.

Jax stopped. I bit my lip and didn’t look back at them. Derek was going to have my back no matter what. I bet he was using his cop instincts to detect Jax Jackson’s shit, just like I had.

Yep…Derek and I were cut from the same cloth, which was going to make him a great cop.

As the evening progressed the night got a little better. Antonio left when he figured out I wasn’t going to do him any favors. I told Carmine and Gia to butt out of my love life. Henrietta was all I needed.

“Who’s the hottie mctotty?” Norma Allen, the cranker for the Holy Rollers, was eyeing Jax up and down.

“Just a fill in,” I mumbled over the seats.

The Holy Rollers were the old blue-haired women who made up the bible group that met in the undercroft of the Friendship Baptist Church and the same women in charge of preparing all the food that was consumed after a funeral.

They were spry and good bowlers. They were first in the league while we were in second. In fact, they spent any and all of their free time at Lucky Strikes. They were the league champs two years in a row.

“It doesn’t matter who you have because we are going for the three-peat.” Sharon Fasa held up three fingers in the air.

All the Holy Rollers chanted three-peat right along with her.

“So how did your lunch date with the hippie go the other day?” Gia popped down next to me when the twins took their turn to bowl. “I totally forgot to ask.”

“Just because he drove a VW didn’t make him a hippie.” I jerked back toward Gia.

“He’s never going to be happy with anyone you date.” Gia raised a brow and glanced over my shoulder at Derek.

She was right. Any time I suggested a possible boyfriend, Derek always had something negative to say.

“It didn’t work out.” I turned my lip up. “On an upswing, I do have a cocktail date with Bob sometime this week.”

Jax came over and sat down next to us. I did my best to ignore him.

“What happened to lunch?” Gia never liked me using the dating sites either.

She said that you never could be too sure about people and she was afraid I was going to get what she called “Laurel-napped.”

“We are meeting up at Benny’s. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I took a swig of my beer. I nudged her with my elbow. “You’re up.”

Perfect timing too. I didn’t want to have to explain why I decided to do cocktails instead of lunch.

The night went along just fine. Derek sat on one side, Jax on the other and I bounced all over the place trying to keep the peace with everyone, even the Holy Rollers when things started to heat up after they won the game. . .again.

“See y’all next week,” I said after putting my ball back in the ball rack.

“Better luck next time.” Sharon Fasa winked before she blew on her knuckles and pretended to polish them off on her shoulder.

“Did you see Trixie Turner with that foil on her head?” One of the other blue-hairs shook her head. “Crazy.”

“Ignore them.” Gia rushed over and grabbed me before I could go all ape shit on them. “Old people think they can say whatever they want. They are the crazy ones.”

“I want to beat them.” My blood pressure rose as I tried to keep it together. “Do not ask anyone else to join our team. Got it?” I jerked away and headed toward Shelia to return my shoes.

“Yeah. Fine,” Gia called after me.

I put my shoes on the counter for Sheila and tried to get the hell out of Lucky Strikes. I didn’t want to be interrogated by Derek. I didn’t want to fight with old women. And I certainly didn’t want to talk to Jax Jackson.

Poor Derek had an off game. He had several gutters, which I hadn’t seen him do since we used to sneak out of the orphanage and sneak into Lucky Strikes in the middle of the night and play a couple rounds.

Derek didn’t seem to care because he looked pretty content watching Jax’s every move. Alex and Adam were pretty good bowlers. Carmine and Gia not so much, but Gia was my best friend and Carmine was her appendage. Jax Jackson didn’t do so bad either, every frame he either had a strike or a spare. Too bad he’s only here for the details of the festival. I hated to admit that the team could use him. He could be the extra member.

“Come on.” Derek tilted his head toward his truck. He fiddled with his keys. “I’ll give you a lift.”

“Nah. It’s a beautiful night.” I ran my hand down his arm. “Thanks but it’ll be good to walk off some of the beer calories.”

“Suit yourself.” Derek glanced around. The door swung open and Jax walked out. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” I found it cute in a big brother kind of way that he was looking out for me. I waved bye to him after he jumped into the truck and sped off.

The parking lot was thinning out. I walked faster. Not that I was scared, but I could feel the stare of Jax Jackson.

“Hold up!” Jax yelled.

I ignored him until he jogged up next to me.

“You can drive me back to the Windmill.” Jax assumed I was
his
taxi service while in town.

“I don’t think so.” I flung my bag over my shoulder and continued to walk outside. “Besides I walked.”

The stars dotted the night sky. The temperature was perfect for a nice walk. It made me happy that I had chosen to walk instead of drive.