“No fair! Dad… what kind of crap is this? You’re siding with her? I’m funny, tolerant of what you are, and your protégé. You can’t just throw me under the bus like this.”
Nick walked over to put hands on Jean’s outraged shoulders. “There are more lessons in life than throwing knives, kid. Someday, if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone who means more to you than anything else in the world. It’s a partnership beyond kids, jobs, and life itself. You and Deke are beyond everything else in my world except for one: the Momster.”
Jean hugged Nick. “Yeah… I know. You do realize Mom and me will be at each other’s throats for the rest of our lives with you as some helpless referee, right?”
Nick hugged her back. “I’m a writer with imagination. Believe me. I’ve seen the future, and I’m not running away, kid.”
“Good!” Jean pushed away. “I bet I’m throwing well enough to take you, old man. Want to have a go at the knife wielding Dagger?”
“Sure. Shall I use my left or right hand?”
Jean’s jaw dropped open as Rachel enjoyed her daughter’s shock therapy. “You’re right handed! What do you mean left or right?”
Nick plucked a throwing knife off the table with his left hand, while keeping his eyes on Jean, and whirled with force, sending the blade into the target center, buried to the hilt. “I mean right… or left, little one.”
Jean stared at the knife hilt in disbelief, glanced at Nick, and turned away with arms over chest. “I hate you!”
Her statement led to hilarity, with Jean unable to resist joining. Even Deke, sensing something like a treat bounded around his three human mates. They heard the motion sensor alarm begin pinging first, followed by the doorbell ringing. Nick peered into the monitor inside the door leading to their backyard, and sighed.
“Rats, it’s the cops. I’m taking you two out to dinner. Pick a place with steak so I can bring back multiple bone treats for my four legged brother, the Dekester.”
“By your command, Muerto,” Rachel said, putting an arm around Jean. “Stay out of jail.”
“Will do. I’ll bring Neil in if he’s not here to arrest me.” Nick listened to the pleasant tittering of laughter at his caveat as he answered the door with a smile of one who enjoys what is within his grasp. “Neil! How the heck are you? C’mon in. I guess you received my thoughts on the muggers, huh?”
Sergeant Neil Dickerson nodded in acknowledgement, a chill running down his spine he could not explain, or cared to. He shook hands with Nick McCarty, he knew to be a bestselling novelist with a book at that moment in the number one slot on the New York Times Bestseller list. The incongruity of what he knew and what he suspected made his hands sweat. Nick noticed, as he drew the Pacific Grove policeman inside the doorway.
“You don’t look so good, my friend,” Nick said, releasing Neil’s hand. “Would you like a shot of nerve tranquilizer? That is… of course, if you’re off duty.”
“I am off duty, Nick. Ah… sure, I’d like a shot. How about a double on the rocks?”
Nick grinned. “My man! Come with me, my friend.”
Neil followed Nick into the kitchen, where Nick prepared two small glasses with ice and a double shot of Bushmills in each one. “I’m taking the girls out to dinner tonight, so I’ll have a taste with you. Did something go wrong?
“Not really, Nick. Some joggers found the bodies of three dead guys along a path near Lover’s Point, and another in his vehicle on the street nearly opposite of where they were found.” Neil sipped his beverage. “I have a feeling the mugger problem is over. You were right on all counts with the supposition you sent me. I’m not so sure as to how these guys ended up dead though.”
“Good Karma?” Nick sipped his whiskey, watching Sergeant Dickerson closely.
Dickerson grinned. “Maybe. We don’t have any leads or suspects in the deaths of these muggers, and from where they were killed, I doubt I’ll get any either. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it may not be a good idea to involve our ‘Castle’ of Pacific Grove in any more cases. I know you have credentials with the FBI, US Marshal’s Service, as well as the CIA, Nick. Do you have a license to kill too?”
Nick laughed. “Nope. I don’t have a license to kill. Do you know for sure the dead guys are the muggers you’ve been after?”