From Bags to Riches. Sandra D. Bricker
pounds from his pencil-thin tail to the perfect point of classic cropped ears standing erect at the top of his head. The dog shimmied at the close of the task, lips flapping like a flag in a strong wind, and he took his place next to Danny, smiling up at him.
“Ready to hit the waves, buddy?”
As he led the way across the sand, Carmen tucked under his arm and Frank matching him stride for stride, Danny thought about the day he’d come across the dog limping up the lonesome mountain road between Yucaipa and Big Bear. The stark black-and-white of his Harlequin coat had been lost under a thick layer of dirt that made him appear solid gray, and his dark eyes—now wide and bright—gave Danny one lackluster flash when he pulled over to the side of the road and offered the dog a bite of his sandwich to lure him into the Jeep. He’d had to pull over yet again to close up the open Jeep after Frank had tried to make a break for it around the first of many sharp turns.
Tossing his board to the sand near the water’s edge, Danny sat on it and stared out at the churning waves. When Frank dropped next to him, mirroring his position and towering a good three inches taller, Danny snaked his arm around the dog’s neck. He set his slobbery chin to rest on the slope of Danny’s shoulder.
“There they are. A boy and his dog,” Riggs called as he crossed the beach toward them, and Danny chuckled. Frank had given up barking at Aaron Riggs’s arrival many mornings ago. Ruffling the dog’s ears, Riggs added, “Morning, Frankenstein. Sup?”
“Squat a minute,” Danny said, and his friend dropped his board and flopped down on it.
“What’s going on?”
“I want to talk for half a minute.”
“Must be important if you’re making ten-footers wait on you.”
Danny grinned. “I asked Jessie to marry me.”
Riggs didn’t flinch, his focus trained straight ahead on the beckoning waves. Finally, “You did what now?”
“Yeah, I popped the question.”
“She pop an answer back at you?” he asked, turning sideways on his board.
“Sure.”
“And?”
“She’s thinking about it.”
Riggs let out a belly laugh and smacked Danny on the shoulder. “Welcome to the world of waiting on chicks. She give you any indication when she might get back to you?”
“Nope.”
After a long moment of thought, Riggs asked, “Hit the waves now?”
“Oh yeah.”
The two of them catapulted to their feet, grabbed their boards, and took off toward the blue-gray Santa Monica waters whispering their names, leaving Frank looking after them, paw-deep in the foamy surf.
***
Leaning against Piper’s Jaguar, Jessie peered through the streak-free front window, watching Amber inside as she collected the remnants of their marathon cleaning session.
She glanced over at her friend. “It looks so shiny and new,” she remarked, twirling the handle of the broom she’d just used to clear the sidewalk in front of the store.
“Just like the fresh start it’s giving you. Do you feel like getting some dinner?”
Jessie giggled. “We do eat a lot together, don’t we?”
“Hey. It’s the solid foundation on which this friendship is built.”
Jessie pushed herself to her feet. “I’m tired. Nothing fancy, ’kay?”
A shiny green four-door sedan rolled into the parking lot and slowed behind Piper’s car. As the driver’s window lowered, an increasing wave of dread bubbled inside Jessie’s chest.
“Oh no.”
Dark, squared sunglasses, thick waves of hair, familiar chiseled jawline . . .
“Jessie. Talk to you a minute?”
“What is he doing here?” she seethed under her breath.
Piper jumped and reeled to get a better look and, without a moment’s hesitation, dug into her pocket and produced her cell phone.
Jessie took a few short steps toward the hybrid Accord, stopping at the back door of Piper’s car. “Jack, you’ve got to stop this.”
“I’d like to speak to Rafe Padillo, please,” Piper bellowed from behind her. “It’s urgent.”
Jessie suppressed the surge of amusement threatening with the tickle of a smile.
“I won’t even get out of the car,” he said. “I just wanted to tell you—”
“No!” The volume of her objection surprised even Jessie herself. “Stop it. Get out of here, and don’t ever come here again.”
“Yes. Detective Padillo, it’s Piper Brunetti. Danny Callahan gave me your number and said we should call you if Jack Stanton showed up again.”
Jack lowered his head and sighed. “Jess. Come on.”
She spun on one heel and marched toward Piper. “Give me the phone.”
“Thank you,” Jack muttered, and she realized he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion, thinking she planned to put a stop to the call.
Grabbing the phone, she spoke loudly enough for Jack to hear every word. “Rafe, it’s Jessie Hart. Jack just pulled up in front of my store and says he wants to speak to me.”
“He’s nothing if not persistent,” Rafe commented. “But stupid trumps persistent every time. Is he in the same rental?”
“Yes. Dark green Accord.”
“Good. Go inside and lock the door. I’ll have someone there in minutes.”
“Thank you, Rafe,” she said, disconnecting the call. Snagging Piper’s arm, she headed straight for the door. “Let’s go. Lock the door.”
“Jessie,” Jack shouted as the door’s bell jingled. “Come on.”
Once inside, Jessie bolted the locks and glared at him through the shiny window. Her heart stopped as he shook his head, raised the window, and peeled out of the parking lot, tires screeching.
“What is wrong with that jerk?” Amber cried, and Jessie realized Piper must have filled her in.
“Danny says he’s learning impaired,” Piper replied with a bitter chuckle.
“What did he want?”
“Does it matter?” Piper asked.
“Guess not.”
Jessie knew better than to admit in this company that her curiosity actually felt somewhat piqued. What on earth could keep Jack defying a court order, even while wearing that ankle jewelry and with federal charges pending?
Two police cars appeared on the other side of the window, fragmenting her wonderings. Several officers emerged, along with Rafe, and Jessie eagerly unlocked the door and opened it.
“Rafe. Thank you for getting here so quickly.”
“Did you see which direction he went when he left?” he asked directly.
She nodded. “He left the parking lot over there,” she said, pointing after him, “and made a left.”
Rafe nodded at the officer standing next to him, and two of them headed immediately back toward their cruiser.
“This is Officer Brank,” Rafe said of the policeman left behind. “He’ll take your statement. You’ll want to tell him every word Stanton said, from the moment he pulled up until the time he left the lot.”
“Okay.