Chapter Six

A sliver of bright light peeked in through the curtains covering the eastern window and landed on Jett’s face. She was already awake, but she didn’t want to wake-wake. She wanted to stay in bed and snuggle up next to Griffin – or Mr. Flack – who was lightly snoring.

Memories of last night mixed with the soreness that permeated her body and made her smile. One thing was for sure, Griffin knew how to use a belt; and he knew how to fuck. She wondered what else he knew how to use. Maybe a riding bat? Or a paddle? Or any of the other things that were hanging on the wall in his secret dungeon. She’d never known a man with a hidden playroom before. It made her want him more.

There were obviously many different layers to Griffin Flack, and she wanted to know all of them. At least she hoped she did. There was a tiny part of her that wondered if he did play games, and this weekend was one big round of games. She hoped not, because she really loved what they’d done last night.

After the spanking, and the incredible fucking that left her feeling sorer than she ever had, he’d rubbed lotion into her behind, amongst other things, and had treated her with kid gloves. Then he’d walked her to her cabin, while she’d held up her jeans with both hands. When they’d arrived at the cabin he’d turned on the hot tub where they had soaked, in silence, and then they’d gone to sleep.

Now she realized the snoring had stopped, so she knew he was awake. She stroked his thigh and felt his cock stir. Without thinking of the consequences of her actions since she hadn’t asked for permission, Jett threw back the covers, crouched over him and took his now fully engorged dick in her mouth. She sucked him in deep, then started to move up and down, taking him as deeply as possible, feeling as if she might gag at times.

When Griffin finally touched her it was to grab a handful of hair and yank upwards, basically holding her in place. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. She gagged and sucked in air through her nose, but it didn’t help. She tried to pull away, he jerked harder.

Then, suddenly he let go. Jett pulled back her head and coughed, working hard to keep from tossing the little bit of food that was still in her stomach from last night. She sat up and smoothed back her hair.

“That’ll get your heart started,” he said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask for permission,” she said. “That’s what that was about, right?”

“No.”

Jett gazed up at him. There was an evil glint to his eyes, and she knew that, if there was to be one, life with Griffin Flack would never be boring, and you would never know what would happen next.

“You didn’t like it?”

“Quite the opposite,” he said. “You may continue.”

Jett grinned at him and lowered her head. She was just about to take him back in her mouth when there was a knock on the front door. It was more a pounding than a knock.

She lifted her head back up, her mouth open. “Is there a mandatory breakfast delivery I didn’t know about?”

“Not unless you ordered it.”

The pounding intensified and a male voice called out, “Boss, are you in there?”

“Burt.” Griffin jumped up from the bed and looked around.

“Your clothes are in the living room,” she said.

“Something must be wrong,” he said. “He wouldn’t come here unless there was. Get dressed.”

Jett followed his instructions, and by the time she got to the living room, a dressed Griffin had already let Burt inside. The worker tipped his cowboy hat at her, and she nodded in return.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I was just telling Griff that Tricky is here, and he’s looking for the boss.”

“Tricky?” Jett frowned. “That’s the lawman who’s married to the chef, right?”

“What’s he want to talk about?” Griffin asked.

“Well, he told me that Nick Portland was attacked last night. I understand they don’t expect him to make it. He’s in an ambulance heading for Las Vegas, and I understand they are going to transfer him to Albuquerque.”

“Where was he?” Griffin asked.

“At his cabin,” Burt said. “And that’s pretty much all I know. Tricky said he’d been trying to call you, but you never answered.”

Griffin patted his pockets, then looked around the room. “My phone must be in my office. Where’s Tricky?”

“In your office,” Burt said.

“Okay, call Celeste and tell her to deliver pastries and coffee to my office, and then call Tricky and tell him I’ll be there as soon as I shower.” He moved toward the bedroom, then turned back to Burt. “In addition to the pastries tell her we want two breakfast burritos, three if Tricky’s hungry. Jett, do you want sausage, or bacon on yours?”

“Sausage, please.”

Burt nodded and left. Jett ran after Griffin, who was in the bedroom now, stripping off his clothes. “I’ll go first,” he said. “If I’m not here when you get out, come to the lodge when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” she said. She wasn’t sure what else to say. The man Griffin had threatened last night was now near death. But she was his alibi. They’d been together all night. Unless he’d slipped out while she was sleeping. Something told her that hadn’t happened. Or at least she hoped it hadn’t. That meant someone else had it in for Nick Portland. Hopefully they could figure out who it was.

***

Griffin was already gone when Jett got out of the shower. She dressed in jeans, sweater, and boots, and hurried out the front door. Because she didn’t want to miss any of the conversation about the attack on Nick Portland she took her car to the lodge. When she came in, Nan nodded at her, but the clerk’s smile from yesterday was gone. She pointed in the direction of Griffin’s office and Jett started down the hallway.

She couldn’t help but think about what had happened in Griffin’s secret dungeon. But a thought stabbed at her that had started to build while she was in the shower. Could he have snuck out to Portland’s house during the middle of the night and attacked him? What time had the attack occurred? How far was it from Tres Lobos to Portland’s house?

So many questions rolled through her mind, and Jett didn’t have answers to any of them. She wanted to trust Griffin. After all, Stan sent her here, and she trusted Stan. Or she did until she found out he lied to her.

She stopped in front of the door to Griffin’s office and thought about his weird reaction to the door being unlocked last night. Too many weird things for one night; but of course there was the fantastic spanking and sex. If she trusted him for that she needed to trust him for other things, too.

Jett stepped inside. Griffin sat behind his desk, and Burt sat in one of the extra chairs. There was another man in the room, another big, burly one, but this one was Native American, with braids hanging over his shoulders. He wore a sheriff’s uniform and a frown on his face.

“Here she is.” Griffin stood. “Jett Montgomery this is Tricky.”

The deputy held out his hand. “Richard Coffee.”

“Deputy.” She shook his hand. “Tricky?”

“I have bad choices in friends,” Tricky said. He jerked his thumb in Griffin’s direction.

“American history class, when we were studying Watergate,” Griffin said.

“Tricky Dick,” Jett said with a laugh.

“And it stuck, at least part of it.” He waved the small notebook in his hand. “Griffin tells me he was with you all night last night. Is that right?”

“Yes,” she said. “We met for dinner about six-thirty last night, and, well, we were together the rest of the evening.”

A blush crept up her face. There was no easy way to tell the officer that she and Griffin had been having sex, even though they’d just met.

“He didn’t leave you all night?” Tricky asked. He lifted one eyebrow, something Jett had never been able to do.

“No,” she said, even though she couldn’t prove it. “Are you Celeste’s husband?”

“I am,” Tricky said.

“She’s a great chef.”

“Agreed.” Tricky flipped his notebook closed and put it in his back pocket.

“So what happened to this Portland guy?” she asked.

“Someone bashed him over the head, repeatedly,” Tricky said.

Jett shivered.

“Have you ever met him?” Tricky asked.

“Hello.” Jett turned toward the doorway where a Latino woman stood with a tray piled high with food. “Nan told me you’d arrived, so I’m here with food.”

Tricky rushed to take the tray from her and she followed him as he headed back toward Griffin’s desk.

“I’m Celeste,” she said. Instead of holding out her hand she pulled Jett into a hug. “Thanks for liking my dinner last night. Per the boss’ order I made burritos for breakfast, but I also have some pecan cinnamon rolls, and a few éclairs. And coffee, lots of coffee.”

“Homemade éclairs?” Jett’s mouth watered at the thought.

“She was up at three-thirty this morning putting them together.” Tricky crossed to the sofa and sat down.

Griffin was filling a plate, with two burritos a few rolls, and an éclair. “Help yourselves.” He sat back down and Jett watched as he spread salsa over the burrito and bit off almost half of it in one bite.

Jett decided not to wait. She took a burrito and an éclair, and sat down on the sofa, leaving a space in between herself and Tricky. Celeste moved about the room, filling and then giving people cups of coffee.

“Cream and sugar?” Celeste asked Jett after she’d given her husband a cup of black coffee.

“Please,” Jett said. She took a bite of her burrito and moaned. “So good,” she mumbled around the food.

“Thanks,” Celeste said as she gave Jett her cup, then sat down next to her.

“So, is he dead?”

The question was so blunt that Jett almost choked on her food.

“Not yet,” Tricky said. “According to radio chatter they’re waiting for the helicopter in Vegas, and he’s still hanging on.”

“Trick, where’s your boss?” Griffin asked.

“Fishing in Colorado,” Tricky said. “That’s why I’m here, because Christian has the day off and is in Taos.”

“I guess your boss is the sheriff?” Jett asked. She was trying as hard as she could not to rush her way through the food on her plate. But it was all so good.

“Jake Montgomery,” he said. Tricky leaned over his wife. “Hey, I just realized you share the same last name. A relative?”

“Not that I know of,” Jett said.

“What evidence did you collect?” Burt asked. Jett had almost forgotten that he was there he’d been so quiet.

“Like I’m going to tell you that,” Tricky said. “But I did hear that our friend sitting behind the desk threatened our victim yesterday. Want to tell me what that’s all about?”

Before Griffin could answer, Tricky sat forward and glanced at Jett. “The person I talked to said you were there, too.”

“Who told you that?” Griffin asked.

“Need to know basis,” Tricky said. “But I’m curious why neither of you mentioned it to me. You didn’t even make a report that he’d violated the restraining order.”

“I can take care of myself,” Griffin said.

“Then why did you file the restraining order?” Tricky asked. “Listen, I understand what he was trying to do, which was to damage your business at Tres Lobos West, but take his ass to court, don’t…”

The room fell silent, and finally Griffin said, “Don’t kill him? Is that what you were going to say?”

“Yeah,” Tricky said. “Tell me honestly, as one of my best friends, did you have anything to do with this?”

“No,” Griffin said. “If need be I would have taken him to court. I know you have to ask, but I would hope you know me well enough to know I don’t attack people.”

“Just doing my job,” Tricky said. “Tell me exactly what happened yesterday.”

Griffin pushed his plate away. “He snuck onto Tres Lobos West yesterday, while Stretch was… entertaining. I don’t know what he saw, but Burt and I decided a restraining order was the best way to go. I suppose you didn’t deliver it?”

“No,” Tricky said. “What happened after that?”

“He came here and stormed down the hall to my office. He was knocking on every door in the hallway and screaming my name. I came out and found him. He waved the paper at me, hollered that I wouldn’t get away with it, that he had a right to go wherever he wanted. I told him to get off my property before I called the sheriff’s office. I followed him outside the building where he got in his truck and left.”

“After you threatened him,” Tricky said. “Or that’s the rumor around town.”

“I don’t remember what I said,” Griffin said.

Tricky turned his attention to Jett. “Do you remember?”

“Well, Portland called me a whore.” She glanced at Griffin who nodded. She took that to mean she should tell the truth. “Griffin said something about attacking a guest, and then told Portland that if he came back on Tres Lobos land that he would regret it.”

“So you did threaten him,” Tricky said.

“I meant legally,” Griffin said.

“Who did he attack?”

“The sub who was with Stretch. I called it that. He tried to throw his jacket over her and she freaked out.”

Burt held up a finger. “Can I interrupt? The sub was so freaked she left before her time was up. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gives us a nasty review.”

“I’ll refund her money,” Griffin said. “But we can’t afford that sort of bad publicity. That doesn’t mean I tried to kill Portland. Neither did Stretch, or Burt. At least I don’t think so. Burt you want to confess and save my ass?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Boss,” Burt said with a chuckle. “When they find you guilty, don’t bend over for the soap in prison.”

They all laughed, and Jett felt a little better about Griffin. Something told her he hadn’t left her bed last night. They’d had fantastic sex and it had worn him out, just as it had her.

“Do they know what time this happened?” she asked.

“Portland’s friend from Las Vegas showed up at his place at about seven this morning. The last time they talked was about midnight last night.”

“A woman?” Griffin asked.

“She’s a nurse,” Tricky said. “Something tells me she saved his life. She worked to control the bleeding before she called us.”

“If he was still bleeding, I would say the attack was earlier this morning rather than last night,” Jett said. She shrugged when they all looked at her. “I read a lot of mystery novels, and watch a lot of real crime shows.”

“That’s funny, because that’s what the paramedics said.” Tricky raised his coffee mug in her direction.

“Now we just have to figure out who did it,” Griffin said “Because I can assure you it wasn’t me.”