Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) (6 page)

He hit his apartment for a quick shower and shave, then headed to Buck’s for his three o’clock appointment. The guilt for sneaking out while she slept was eating him alive. He would’ve canceled if it wasn’t so important, but the desire to get hired at the club was now twice as intense as it had been last night. Not only did he intend to destroy Arlo Buck, but now he was determined to keep a close eye on his sexy waitress, as well.

At ten to three, he pulled into the parking lot. He hopped out of his pickup hoping the nerves didn’t show. This interview needed to be played completely cool and straight. He had one chance to get inside, and screwing up wasn’t an option.

“I have an appointment with Buck at three,” Ty said to a younger, slightly taller version of Buck sitting at the bar. Ty hadn’t seen the guy in a long time, but it had to be Warren. Same meaty head. Same huge body. Ty and Warren had played football against each other, Ty for Longdale High and Warren for Titus. They had never been friends, but Ty had heard plenty of stories. Warren was notorious for always being in trouble, and Buck was just as notorious for bailing him out.

Warren glared, stood, and stalked into a small office behind the stage. He reappeared about two minutes later with his old man.

Buck didn’t say anything, only walked to a table at the farthest end of the nightclub.

Ty followed.

Motioning for one of the girls to bring two beers, Buck plopped down into a chair.

“Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Buck.”

“Just Buck, no mister. I’m not your fucking high school principal. Why’d you quit the Longdale PD? Bouncer at a nightclub is a big step backwards.”

The waitress set down two beers.

“Thanks, babe.” Arlo winked at her.

“Long story, but Commander Davis and I had a few issues we couldn’t work out.”

“I’m gonna tell you what I heard. I heard you failed a drug test, and Davis let you walk instead of firing your ass.”

Ty had rehearsed all the answers, so he was prepared. Buck had checked him out thoroughly, just like he figured.

“That’s bullshit.” Ty shook his head. “I was set up by Davis and Tom, that prick of a nephew of his. I was at a party; Tom was there, too. He kept pushing one beer right after another at me, and then some chick was all over me. She left and came back after a few minutes with a joint.”

Ty shrugged. “I didn’t want the joint, just the woman. Couldn’t figure out why she was practically cramming the damn thing down my throat. I took a couple hits to keep the peace. Go figure, a surprise drug test the next day. Coincidence? I doubt it.” Ty drank the beer, looking up at Arlo.

“I heard you were tight with Davis.”

“We were. Our families have been friends for years. But his nephew is an asshole and a serious liability to the Longdale department.”

Buck sat silent for several moments before speaking. “I could use a guy with a few skills when it comes to keeping the peace around here, but I’m not crazy about inviting any more cops around than I have to. I haven’t seen eye to eye with Davis myself in a good many years. Fucker always sends his cops around to poke in my business. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he sent you to nose around.”

Ty focused on his beer, deciding how to answer. He knew Buck wasn’t an idiot, but he hadn’t expected him to cut to the chase so quickly. Ty decided to go for the move that would look like an early fold. “I get it. I guess, if I were in your position, I might think that, too. Thanks for your time and the beer.” Ty stood and offered a hand to Arlo.

“Sit down, boy, before I knock you down.”

An appropriate amount of anger would be prudent here, Ty thought. He sat slowly and let a little heat glare from his eyes.

“You tell me why it would be smart for me to let an ex-cop in my business, one that has family ties to Longdale’s chief.”

“I don’t care who you let in your business, but you won’t find anyone in this town more willing to make Davis and his asshole nephew look like idiots than me. Seven years I put in with them. Then he screws me out of my badge and blackballs me in town with every business lead I pursue.”

Ty was reasonably sure Buck was at least paying attention. He let his face go a little wild and uncontrolled. The words weren’t truthful, but the anger and intention to make someone pay for what Ty’s family had been through were absolutely real and humming on the surface.

“Tom’s an idiot,” Ty continued. “Couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn if his life depended on it. I responded to that robbery about eight months back, you know, at Jed’s Gas Mart.”

Buck nodded.

It had been big news in a little town. Two college kids were strung out and strapped for cash. They’d held up a local gas station, and Ty had responded to the call, been grazed by a bullet.

“Tom was supposed to back me up. I knew as soon as I walked in they were just a couple of teens who needed to score. They weren’t looking to shoot anyone. I was about done talking ’em down when one pointed his gun at Tom instead of me. Tom flipped, started shooting up the place. Killed one of the kids, almost got me killed, and then put in his report that the kid fired first. No fucking way I was backing up that story.”

Ty leaned back in his chair. Rage and frustration had his hand not quite steady, but Tom and the incident at the gas station weren’t the cause. The truth of it was that Tom had handled the situation by the book. It was the knowledge of Arlo Buck’s criminal operations and being this close to getting inside that had Ty’s nerves standing on end. This was it. If Buck turned him away now, game over.

Buck drained the last half of his beer and slammed the empty bottle on the table, making no attempt to hide the fact he was debating his options. He drilled his dark gaze into Ty and leaned both elbows on the table. “I want someone who does exactly what I tell ’em, when I tell ’em. You’re a big boy, so that’ll buy you a little respect, but I need a guy in charge of the bouncers who can handle their attitudes and their stupidity. I’m not screwing around with idiots like Lewis who come in here and hassle my girls. No petty drug exchanges, either. You got a license to carry?” Before Ty could answer, he said, “If not, get one. No one screws around in here with drugs or sex.”

He never said it out loud, but he didn’t have to. Ty could read between the lines perfectly: Buck had security issues and went to a lot of trouble to cover himself. He wasn’t getting busted for stupid college kids dealing drugs in the nightclub.

“I’m not sure how I feel about an ex-cop working security, but I’ll assume you’re smart enough to know you’re either all in or all out when you work for me. I take care of my people”—Buck smiled with all the warmth of the devil—“and their family and friends when they work for me.”

To anyone less savvy, that might have sounded like a declaration of loyalty to his employees. Ty recognized it for the threat that it was—
Fuck with me, and I’ll take out everyone you care about.

“We’ll give it a few weeks, see how it fits for both of us.”

Ty let a smirk take the edge off his nerves. “You hiring me?”

“Yeah. Start tomorrow. I’ll meet with my guys tonight. I got seven bouncers you’ll be in charge of. A few of the boys are strong as hell but none too bright. A couple more, cocky and hotheaded. If you can’t handle them and keep ’em in line, you’re out.”

“I won’t let you down. Thanks, Buck.” Ty extended a hand. Buck reluctantly shook it. Ty turned to leave.

“McGee.”

Ty turned back.

Buck leaned back in the suffering bar chair that looked like it wanted to collapse underneath him. “No one crosses me and lives to tell about it. That’s how you work my floor, with that level of arrogance. You get rid of the small side drug deals. You kick the shit out of the bastards feeling up my waitresses. Make sure no one gets rough in the VIP rooms unless they’ve properly paid for it. And make damn certain you understand I’ll be watching you closely. No one crosses Arlo Buck.”

Chapter Four

After a few peaceful hours of dreamless sleep and a long, hot shower, Jordan felt almost human again. Only then did she allow herself to think about the vision and the drama with Ty that had followed.

She couldn’t fault him for slipping out while she slept. If he’d been smart, he’d have left a long time before that, when she’d passed out behind Buck’s or when he got stuck in the ER half the night. But he hadn’t. He even stayed after she snarled at him when he mentioned her parents.

And then there was the kiss. Good God, what had she been thinking?

It was pretty obvious she hadn’t been thinking at all. How could she be so stupid? Head injury or not, her behavior was inexcusable. Any cop who worked undercover knew exactly how dangerous screw-ups could be. She’d screwed up big time last night.

The way McGee affected her bordered on insane. Keeping a good, healthy distance from him might be the best move. Then again, was it ridiculous
not
to explore a valuable connection simply because he sent her hormones into overdrive?

How would she explain that to her superiors?
I’m sorry, Captain, I didn’t pursue a valuable source, because I couldn’t keep my tongue out of the subject’s mouth long enough to question him.

She blew out a disgusted sigh. Instincts that had guided her through several successful undercover missions were screaming at her to find Ty and press him for information. Only an idiot could deny the attraction between them. Maybe if she used that attraction, pretended to need him, need to be taken care of. Shower him with a few soft kisses… Maybe he’d confide everything he knew about Arlo Buck in no time at all.

Taking a look at Ty’s professional records might help, too, although she couldn’t just waltz in to the Longdale Police Station and demand his file. But the FBI could. Bahan was a master at gathering data. She’d send him an email requesting the information, because she sure as hell wasn’t risking a phone call. It wasn’t a mere coincidence that she checked in and left voicemails at times he’d be unavailable. No reason to risk an inquiry about her progress inside Buck’s.

Jordan grabbed her laptop and eased onto the sofa. Now for another unpleasant task. Time to do a little digging of her own. Who was the mystery girl in her dream? She couldn’t pawn that off on Bahan; he’d ask too many questions. Questions she had no intentions of answering.

She didn’t remember a time in her life when there were no dreams. But she remembered a time when she didn’t fear them. Back when she was too little to understand what they meant.

Then there had been the dream about her family—the one that had opened her eyes to real terror. The one that had driven home the very real consequence of ignoring the message inside the dream.

Now she knew better. “Come on, mystery girl. What were you trying to show me?” she muttered as she tapped her security code into the laptop.

Most of the time, she’d convinced herself the spirits were seeking justice for what they’d suffered. Other times, she believed their desperation to connect with her had more to do with closure for their families. On very rare occasions, a spirit would show her a precognitive event—something that hadn’t happened yet—usually attempting to save a loved one, but those visions were the hardest to decipher.

Combining visions with police work seldom followed a straight line of logic. Interpreting what each victim wanted her to see was tricky, yet becoming a cop was the only way she knew how to give purpose to the freakish ability. As for the latest dream, every angle would need to be checked. She’d start with the missing persons database because everything in the dream told her the girl had family and friends that would be looking for her.

While the computer popped up results, Jordan reached for her journal. Habit almost had her dragging it out while Ty had been in her apartment, but luckily, common sense had rushed back in time. What would she have said to him?

Excuse me, could you hand me that notepad? Dead crime victims tend to visit me in my dreams, just need to jot down a few notes.

After escaping as efficiently as Houdini, she was quite sure Ty had already put her in the “whack-job” category. Sharing her ability to connect with the dead would no doubt earn her a one-way ticket to Freakville.

“Been there, visited that part of town, cowboy—not likely to go back,” she murmured, scribbling the date in her journal. “Not even for an ass as fine as yours.”

Now, hours later, she was concentrating twice as hard to recall a fraction of the details. Even through the suckish aftermath, she’d always been vigilant about writing down the facts. It was important to log every visual element as soon as possible. Each minute that passed blurred the fine edge of detail that she could recount. Often, it was the smallest of those details that made all the larger ones fall together.

She tapped a pen on her journal a couple of times, then took a few cleansing breaths and played back the vision in her mind.

Victim—White female. Middle teens. Long dark hair. Raped. Murdered. A party, graduation likely.

Male suspect—A ball cap? Green? Brown?

Damn it!

She slapped the journal shut. How frustrating to remember so little. The only positive aspect of her dreams was that they gave her information. In this case, there just wasn’t enough.

But consistently, the dreams had been tied to whatever case she was working on at the time. It was likely the girl was local and, with enough digging, Jordan was betting on a tie to Arlo Buck.

As much as she hated to think it, she needed more. And she could bet—there would be more.

She’d barely logged in when someone knocked at her door. After closing her computer, she moved to the hidden gun on the bookshelf next to the door. She put one hand on the doorknob and one on the gun. “Who is it?”

“Pizza delivery.”

Fairly confident she recognized the voice, she cracked the door open, leaving the chain in place. “Ty, what are you doing here?”

“Bringing you dinner if you’ll take the chain off.”

The pizza smelled like heaven. It hadn’t occurred to Jordan that her last meal had been the day before, not until the pepperoni hypnotized her.

After slipping the gun behind the books, she slid the chain off the door and opened it. “Wow, it smells amazing. What’s in the bag?”

“Salad and Antonio’s world famous cheesecake.”

He caught her off guard, and she didn’t know what to say. She liked to be prepared.
This
she was singularly unprepared for. Did she have enough wits to deal with him tonight? She was undercover. He needed to be checked out. The conversation wouldn’t be on her terms, but it could work.

Stepping back, she gestured toward the kitchen. As he passed, she smelled the pizza, but the more enticing aroma followed in its wake—freshly showered male. Was it soap? Cologne? Who the hell knew? But her treacherous body inhaled deeply while his back was turned.

He headed to the kitchen and started scrambling around as if he’d lived there all his life. “Oh, man. I forgot sodas.”

She watched him, frankly bewildered that he’d come back. “I’ve got diet soda in the fridge.”

“I know. I hate that stuff.” He stared into the nearly empty refrigerator. “Why do women do that? It’s so stupid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to be insulted or amused. “Do what?”

“Eat pizza and cheesecake, then wash it down with diet soda. I was at the burger joint in town yesterday. Some woman in front of me, honest to God, ordered a double half-pound burger with extra mayo and a giant-size fry. Then got a diet soda. I mean, come on, what’s the point?” He shut the fridge and turned to her. “Do you have paper plates? We don’t need to dirty the real ones if you do.”

“Ah…” She tried to remember if she’d seen any.
How do I know?
is what she wanted to say. She’d only been in the furnished apartment a short time. There was a coffee pot and coffee cups. Everything else was just overkill.

“No paper plates.” She faked it. He wouldn’t know.

“Are you sure? I thought I saw some when I was looking for coffee filters this morning.” He opened up a couple cabinets, finally swinging open the large one in the corner. Three different sizes of paper plates practically fell on top of him. There were napkins, plastic utensils, and even paper cups with lids. A virtual smorgasbord of disposable dinnerware.

Damn
.
She hadn’t planned on entertaining. How was she supposed to know—or care—they were in there? She shrugged when he shot her a confused look. “The woman in the apartment before me must have left them.”

She continued to watch him as he set the tiny two-person table. He started a pot of coffee, tossed the salad, and served them both a piece of pizza.

“Have a seat. I’ll get us coffee in a minute,” he said.

If the man had a shy or reluctant bone in his body, she’d yet to see it.

He looked over to where she stood rooted to the floor. “I’m such an idiot. I haven’t even asked how you’re feeling. Are you doing okay?” He walked to her, tilted her head up, and brushed back her hair to inspect the stitches on her forehead.

A sharp intake of air flooded her lungs. Her skin heated, and her heart thundered so loudly, she wondered if he could hear it. “Yeah, I’m much better.”

“I had an appointment I couldn’t get out of.” His eyes drifted to her chest before he blinked them back up to her face. “I hated to leave you, but…”

“It’s okay. You’re not my keeper.” Glancing down to where his gaze had landed, she realized her old tank top was quite thin. She no longer needed to worry if he could hear her heart pound. Her erect nipples took the embarrassment over how her body reacted to his touch to a whole new level. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna grab a sweatshirt.”

By the time she came out of the bedroom, he’d poured coffee.

He pulled out a chair for her. “Have a seat.”

She nodded, deciding it was time to start the business end of the dinner. “I’m beginning to wonder about you.”

He lifted a brow. “Why is that?”

“I figured after what I put you through last night, you wouldn’t be back. And here you are, with dinner no less.”

“Technically, I’m still on duty until about midnight.”

Confused, she narrowed her eyes.

“My twenty-four-hour watch over you still has six hours to go. I noticed you only had two apples and a half-eaten yogurt in the fridge. Thought maybe you wouldn’t be up to getting dinner, so here I am. I wasn’t going to let you starve on my shift.”

“I wouldn’t have starved.” She rolled her eyes defensively. “I have chips in the cabinet, too.”

“Yeah, well, you’d probably be hard-pressed to find them,” he said. “I’m beginning to think you don’t have a clue about what’s in those cabinets.” He waved an extra paper plate at her.

Ignoring his comment
and
the way his eyes sparkled when he teased her, she picked up the pizza and bit into it. “Oh, God, this is good. I think I may be in love.”

He grinned at her low, appreciative groan. “I try.”

She laughed. “Not with you, with Antonio.”

He clutched his chest. “May I remind you that if it weren’t for me, you’d be eating old, crusty yogurt tonight?”

“And I might have bled to death on Buck’s picnic table,” she added with a smile.

“You’re right. So you best start stroking my ego better, or I’m taking my world famous cheesecake and getting out.”

Propping her head on a fist, she watched him eat. He was impossibly gorgeous and very sweet. She desperately wanted to scratch him off the list of suspects. “So, why’d you give up being a cop? I’d think that would be a pretty good living around here.”

No mistake, the glittering shine in his eyes turned a shade darker. He dropped his crust onto his plate and proceeded to serve them both another piece of pizza. “It’s a small town. When bad blood starts flowing in a police department as small as Longdale’s, there aren’t a lot of ways to diffuse it. You live with it or quit. I quit.”

“What caused the bad blood?”

He paused. “A disagreement.”

She kept her eyes fixed on him and hoped he’d succumb to the silent invitation for more information.

“About a promotion,” he finally admitted. “One that I should have had, but the police chief’s nephew got. It’s all about who you’re related to in this town.”

“So instead of trying to move to another department like Titus or Cooper, you just quit?” His actions didn’t make sense. Someone would take her badge when they pried it out of her cold, dead hands.

“You went through training, got your badge, worked for eight or nine years, and then just walked away?” She’d spent a great many years reading people, and she already knew a few things about Ty. He loved playing protector, had been doing it since she’d met him, which made the fact that he’d turned in his badge over a missed promotion unlikely.

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who’s more attracted to the guy who made the pizza than me.”

“Sorry, occupational hazard.”

“For a business degree?” His head tilted as he stared at her. He appeared to be mentally weighing her words. “Do they make you interrogate people to get your business degree?”

Stalling, she stuffed another bite of pizza in her mouth. It
had
sounded more like an interrogation than a friendly conversation over dinner. “Cocktail waitress,” she said around the pizza. “The more you talk, the more interested you are in people’s lives, the better the tips. I ask a lot of questions, chat a lot. It seems to be an asset at Buck’s.”

He scowled, instantly annoyed. “Good ol’ Buck’s.”

She watched him crumple a napkin and tap his fingers on the tabletop. Something had him ticked off.

“When do you think you’ll go back to work?”

“Today was my day off, so not until tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “You really think you’re up to carrying trays and fighting off idiots like Lewis?”

The agitation in his voice escalated. Even if he turned out to be one of the cops—or ex-cop, in his case—protecting Buck, the toxic atmosphere inside the club seemed to drive him nuts.