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Authors: Dakota Madison
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her head, which isn’t the response I was expecting.
Then she clears her throat. “I live here, but it’s not my house.” The young woman is so nervous her voice sounds like one of those singing chipmunks.
Glancing up from my notepad I ask, “Who owns this home?”
“Jackson Drake. I work for him. Maddie Malone. I’m his assistant. He’s a writer…”
I cut her off. “I know who he is.” He’s a famous suspense thriller writer. I’ve read several of his books.
“It’s kind of a funny coincidence. His first name is Jackson.” She gestures towards Cody. “Your last name is Jackson.”
“What’s funny about it?” I ask.
“Who’s Jackson Drake?” Cody asks.
I glare at him. So much for him staying in the background and observing. “If you read anything other than nudie magazines maybe you’d recognize his name.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth I immediately regret them. Cody looks stunned by my mean comment. Although I did see a Playboy magazine in his bedroom I have no idea if that’s all he reads.
“For your information nudie magazines have articles, and they’re not the only things I read.”
I cross my arms in front of me and stare at him. “You’ve read a Jackson Drake novel?”
“Maybe…” Cody doesn’t sound very convincing.
“Then what’s his most popular main character?” I ask. “If you’re a fan of his you should know who’s featured in nearly all of his books.”
Cody gulps, but doesn’t reply.
“That’s what I thought. The correct answer is Blake Knox.”
“Speaking of Blake Knox,” Ms. Malone says. “The name of the cat that’s in the tree is Knox.”
“Right.” I glance down at my notepad. “Cats in trees really isn’t our jurisdiction. It’s usually the fire department that takes care of that.”
“Oh.” She looks disappointed.
“Or you may want to consider phoning animal control,” I suggest. “They may be able to assist you.”
“Does Mr. Drake have a gardener?” Cody offers. “Maybe he could help. He probably has to trim the trees.”
I glare at him. “Is he supposed to trim the cat out of the tree?”
“It was just a suggestion,” Cody fires back.
“A poor one.”
That’s when I notice what could be a cat scurrying in my peripheral version. “Is Knox gray?”
“Yes,” Ms. Malone replies hopefully.
I march past her and grab Knox from her hiding place under a large leaf. I hold her in my arms as I walk back over to Ms. Malone.
“She’s beautiful,” I give her a few scratches behind the ears.
The cat purrs with enjoyment.
After a few moments Cody says, “You could give the cat back to Ms. Malone any day now.”
I hand the feline back to her. “Try not to let her out again.”
“I learned my lesson,” she assures me.
***
Cody remains quiet for the next hour as we do several vacation home security checks in a nearby neighborhood.
“What’s eating you?” I ask when I get tired of his silent treatment.
“According to my training manual you’re supposed to be firm, but courteous in your interactions with me.”
“I have been.” Haven’t I?
“Honestly I think you could be a little more considerate.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I haven’t been as courteous as I could be. It’s possible I’m overcompensating because of my feelings for him.
“I need to make a stop at the high school,” I tell Cody as I turn into the driveway.
“What’s up?” he asks as we hop out of the car.
“This is what’s known as community oriented policing . Making contacts of a positive nature with citizens in the community. The school’s junior/senior guidance counselor wants to have a conversation with me about being one of the guest speakers at career night.”
“Well, aren’t you a superstar.”
“Not really. I’ve known Mr. Duncan for years. He was my guidance counselor when I attended the school.”
Cody starts singing Another Brick in the Wall by Pink Floyd.
“Do you have a song for
Then she clears her throat. “I live here, but it’s not my house.” The young woman is so nervous her voice sounds like one of those singing chipmunks.
Glancing up from my notepad I ask, “Who owns this home?”
“Jackson Drake. I work for him. Maddie Malone. I’m his assistant. He’s a writer…”
I cut her off. “I know who he is.” He’s a famous suspense thriller writer. I’ve read several of his books.
“It’s kind of a funny coincidence. His first name is Jackson.” She gestures towards Cody. “Your last name is Jackson.”
“What’s funny about it?” I ask.
“Who’s Jackson Drake?” Cody asks.
I glare at him. So much for him staying in the background and observing. “If you read anything other than nudie magazines maybe you’d recognize his name.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth I immediately regret them. Cody looks stunned by my mean comment. Although I did see a Playboy magazine in his bedroom I have no idea if that’s all he reads.
“For your information nudie magazines have articles, and they’re not the only things I read.”
I cross my arms in front of me and stare at him. “You’ve read a Jackson Drake novel?”
“Maybe…” Cody doesn’t sound very convincing.
“Then what’s his most popular main character?” I ask. “If you’re a fan of his you should know who’s featured in nearly all of his books.”
Cody gulps, but doesn’t reply.
“That’s what I thought. The correct answer is Blake Knox.”
“Speaking of Blake Knox,” Ms. Malone says. “The name of the cat that’s in the tree is Knox.”
“Right.” I glance down at my notepad. “Cats in trees really isn’t our jurisdiction. It’s usually the fire department that takes care of that.”
“Oh.” She looks disappointed.
“Or you may want to consider phoning animal control,” I suggest. “They may be able to assist you.”
“Does Mr. Drake have a gardener?” Cody offers. “Maybe he could help. He probably has to trim the trees.”
I glare at him. “Is he supposed to trim the cat out of the tree?”
“It was just a suggestion,” Cody fires back.
“A poor one.”
That’s when I notice what could be a cat scurrying in my peripheral version. “Is Knox gray?”
“Yes,” Ms. Malone replies hopefully.
I march past her and grab Knox from her hiding place under a large leaf. I hold her in my arms as I walk back over to Ms. Malone.
“She’s beautiful,” I give her a few scratches behind the ears.
The cat purrs with enjoyment.
After a few moments Cody says, “You could give the cat back to Ms. Malone any day now.”
I hand the feline back to her. “Try not to let her out again.”
“I learned my lesson,” she assures me.
***
Cody remains quiet for the next hour as we do several vacation home security checks in a nearby neighborhood.
“What’s eating you?” I ask when I get tired of his silent treatment.
“According to my training manual you’re supposed to be firm, but courteous in your interactions with me.”
“I have been.” Haven’t I?
“Honestly I think you could be a little more considerate.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I haven’t been as courteous as I could be. It’s possible I’m overcompensating because of my feelings for him.
“I need to make a stop at the high school,” I tell Cody as I turn into the driveway.
“What’s up?” he asks as we hop out of the car.
“This is what’s known as community oriented policing . Making contacts of a positive nature with citizens in the community. The school’s junior/senior guidance counselor wants to have a conversation with me about being one of the guest speakers at career night.”
“Well, aren’t you a superstar.”
“Not really. I’ve known Mr. Duncan for years. He was my guidance counselor when I attended the school.”
Cody starts singing Another Brick in the Wall by Pink Floyd.
“Do you have a song for
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