Page 1 of Jewel in the Rough

CHAPTER1

Benny

Don’t go to bed with a price on your head.

102º in the shade, Benny thought,but it’s a dry heat so that makes everything okay, right?

Things might possibly be okay if Benny wasn’t trapped behind a dumpster that smelled like someone who’d never showered died in it a week ago and a dog with food poisoning had barfed on the body,andthe cement wall of the back of the dance hall had not only soaked up the heat of the day but was amplifying it so where he was crouching (okay, hiding) was literally cooking his shoulder and back while his sense of smell was being assaulted.

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” Benny murmured in something much quieter than a whisper.

“Shut him up.”

These words, thankfully not directed at him, were punctuated by a crunching sound more sickening than the odor from the dumpsters.

Shit, shit, shit.

All he’d wanted was a quick smoke. This, whatever was happening, was payback for breaking his New Year’s resolution. If he lived through this, he was never touching another cigarette as long as he lived.

Big If.

Benny knew with certainty that, if the thugs caught a glimpse of him hiding behind the trash bin, he would meet the same fate as the unfortunate person they were torturing.

Weren’t cold-blooded killers supposed to do their handiwork in the dark of night, and why, for the love of all that was holy, hadn’t he brought his cell phone with him? Instead of being trapped in olfactory hell, he could be calling the police and not only saving his ass but also the life of the middle-aged guy who was currently being held off the ground by two of the three meatheads so the lead meathead could kick the literal living shit out of him. Blood dripped from the man’s face, from his eyes, nose—from everywhere. Benny had an unfortunately good view. There actually wasn’t much left of the guy that looked human.

Benny had been minding his own business, greedily anticipating the heady flavor of the forbidden cigarette, when angry voices started coming his way. He’d foolishly backed up next to the dumpster, wondering what was going on thinking he’d just wait it out, when the trio came into view to use his apparently not-so-secret spot as the setting for their own private execution. They were so involved they didn’t see Benny crouch down behind the metal container. There was nowhere else for Benny to hide, and nowhere for him to run; this alley was bracketed by the death squad on one end and with a brick wall on the other.

Benny hadn’t recognized the human pinata even before he was kicked into a bloody pulp. Had he seen the meatheads in the dance hall, or somewhere else? Maybe? Maybe not? The bar had customers from all walks of life. The big one seemed particularly familiar, maybe Benny’d seem him on the strip? But then, Extra Big Guy didn’t seem to be a Vegas strip kind of person—more of a North Vegas sort. Benny knew, however, that he would never forget their faces.

Maybe therewasa body in the dumpster already, maybe the noxious smell really was a dead person, and the guy they were hammering on was going to be joining him soon. Maybe Benny had had the bad luck to choose these guys’favoritedumpster. Really, he shouldn’t be as surprised by this thought as he was. This was exactly the kind of luck Benny had.

“You think you’re such a wise guy,” Meathead One growled. “I’m about finished with you. You have thirty seconds to tell us where the inventory is.”

Even Benny,nota hired killer, knew the fourth member of the impromptu party was already too far gone to confess to anything. Hunching even tighter into a ball and jamming himself as far as he could between the wall and the bin, Benny covered his ears and prayed.

CHAPTER2

Benny

Ten days later – Welcome to Piedras.

Benny’s heart clenched. He released a little gasp of pleasure and tapped his brakes as he drove off the ferry, trying to take in everything around him at once.All the cuteness. At the end of the ferry ramp there actually was a hand-painted sign that read:Welcome to Piedras Island, a jewel in our crown. The small town’s leaders were very clever. The P in the word Piedras even had a bejeweled crown dangling off it and the island’s name was painted a deep shade of gold. It was so freaking quaint and adorable.

Until some jerk behind him honked his horn.

“Excuse-fucking-me for taking three seconds to take in my surroundings,” Benny muttered as he pressed on the gas, passing first the sign and then a parking lot packed with cars and people presumably waiting to board the ferry. Still, he refused to drive quickly, noting the posted speed limit of ten miles an hour, and he wanted to get as good a first look as he could at his hideaway town. Small, like his hometown, but already different—right there on the main street, a huge rainbow flag flapped in the wind.

He blinked several times, not blinking away tears, of course, just—feelings. Vegas wasall thatand more, but in his heart of hearts, Benny was a small-town boy. The thought that this little berg tucked up near the Canadian border could possibly be where he found a home of his own was both sobering and exhilarating. It had been a long time sincethathope had flickered to life in Benny’s heart.

The road from the ferry passed through Hidden Harbor and rose to a crest in the distance. The first business Benny registered was what looked like a tattoo shop called Octopus Ink. A colorful mural decorated the street side of the building, depicting all sorts of sea life and, of course, a giant octopus. Beyond the tattoo parlor was a bakery and then appeared a shop he already knew about—Jewel Creamery and Espresso. The aqua blue and neon pink trim stood out even amongst the other colorful buildings in the town. Jewel was his friend Ciara’s business and one of the reasons he was on Piedras, not that he would be working there. But if not for Ciara, Benny didn’t know where he’d be.

When he spotted the sheriff’s office, Benny released a heartfelt groan. With any luck at all, Benny would never see the inside of that particular building. He’d had enough of cops, feds, and U.S. marshals, even mall security officers, to last him a lifetime.

The navigation app on his phone announced he needed to take a right in six hundred feet. Benny’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel of the twenty-year-old Volvo his grandmother had given him when he moved to Vegas. Flashy it was not, but it also had never been stolen. He gave himself a little pep talk; he could totally do this, he’d made the right choice.

Benny turned right at the top of the hill, and the navigation system informed him his destination was four miles away. He wanted to take the time and explore everything, but he was already later than he’d expected, not having realized that midsummer meant there would be a big-ass line for the ferry to Piedras. He should have, of course, as Piedras Island was a summertime tourist destination.

Note to self: when running for one’s life, it is extremely stressful to sit in a ferry line for three hours. Not that anyone was really looking for him, Benny reassured himself. He was nothing, a nobody. Now that he’d disappeared from Vegas, he would be forgotten.

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