didn’t want it to.
“My name isn’t Dr. Tattoo.”
I waited, unable to hide a tremor of pleasure at the thought of hearing his name.
“It’s Jesse.”
Jesse. Like the Old West outlaw, Jesse James. The name fit him perfectly. I couldn’t imagine Jesse James being scarier or more appealing. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jesse.”
Jesse inclined his head, gave me one more breathtaking smile, and turned towards the street. I flew up the stairs, banged through the back door, and raced to the window that gave me a view of the street. Huffing for oxygen, I watched my pursuer. Jesse ran past our house looking straight ahead.
What was that ? I deflated onto a chair. “Why didn’t he look back?” I muttered.
“One day of running and already you’re acting like a nut job,” Nana said from behind me.
Sadly, I agreed with her.
* * *
A hard rap on the door jolted me from my Clive Cussler novel. Could I never get a moment to relax? I sauntered to the front door, opening it to a pair of policemen. Their eyes scanned my living room. They hovered over me as if I was in danger.
My stomach clenched at the awful memories their familiar faces triggered but I gestured them into the living room, nodding, “Detective Shine. Detective Fine.”
Detective Fine grinned. “You do know that my name is Osborne and his is Johnston.”
“I've heard that before but Shine and Fine are much easier to remember.” I sucked my gum into my cheek.
“Well, I think the name you’ve given me fits just fine ,” Detective Fine stretched out the last word, actually brushing his hand through his golden locks.
I didn’t roll my eyes, though I had every right to. At least Nana wasn’t here to not-so-quietly intone I should pursue Detective Fine.
“Speak for yourself,” Detective Shine said, rubbing his bald pate. “Why can’t I be Detective Fine?”
He really wasn’t bad looking, but seriously. I pointed to his tall, blond, and perfect partner. “Do you really have to ask?”
Detective Shine shrugged in defeat. “Next time I come I’ll bring somebody fat and old.”
“Looking forward to that.” I sat in the overstuffed chair, pointing towards the couch and really hoping there wasn’t a “next time.” These two seemed to think I was their responsibility since they were always there for my tragic moments. “My parents have been dead two years now. No men with knives showing up lately. Do you guys really have to keep visiting?”
Detective Fine frowned, settling into the cushions. He clung to a small notebook.
“We heard about your discovery Saturday,” Detective Shine said, sitting next to his partner.
I shrank into the plush chair and rubbed at my forehead to stop the headache he’d just initiated. As if my nightmares weren’t enough reminder. Last night I was chased through my slumber by the man with no face and that Panetti psycho. The only bonus was Jesse had rescued me. I forced my mind back to the present. “The police asked me questions on Saturday. Do we have to rehash this?”
Detective Fine leaned forward. “Cassidy, with all you’ve been through, have you ever met with a good psychiatrist?”
So they weren’t here to question me about the body. They were here to “help.” My fingers dug into the bridge of my nose, but didn’t relieve the pressure building inside my head. “I have a friend who’s setting me up with one.” I realized how that sounded and reddened. “I mean, setting me up an appointment. I’ll be fine.” I stood. “If there isn’t anything else?”
Neither of them budged. I sank back down. “Okay. What?”
“Just a few more questions about Saturday and we’ll let you go.”
I nodded. They had badges and guns. What choice did I have?
Shine leaned towards me. “Do you remember anything strange about Saturday morning?”
“You mean besides finding a dead body with no face?”