Chapter Two
Jagger Hansen
“Jagger!”
I looked over my shoulder to see Jesse Sparks, the co-owner of Sparks Bail Bonds and my boss.
He stood near his office door with his desk phone receiver cradled between his ear and shoulder as he fiercely scribbled something on a piece of paper. When he saw he had my attention, he motioned for me to come into his office. I grabbed a pad and pen and made my way over.
“Yes, Governor Gregory. We’ll get on it. Thank you for calling.” Sparky hung up and sat down at his computer, pecking on the keyboard as he kept glancing from the screen to the letters on the keys. My guess was Sparky had skipped Typing 101 in high school.
“Yeah, Sparky.” I walked into his office.
Jesse “Sparky” Sparks was a good man, as was his husband and business partner, Ryan Montgomery. Ryan was a former member of the military, though he didn’t talk about it around me.
Before moving to Vegas, Sparky had been a firefighter and fire inspector in Florida. It was speculated that he left the job under less-than-desirable circumstances, though I never had the balls to ask about it. Wasn’t my business.
According to the office grapevine, Ryan—or Monty as everyone called him—had been in love with Sparky for quite a while, but Sparky, who was previously married to a woman and had a grown son, ended up falling for Ryan.
Watching the two of them together was a great example of the surprising twists and turns life could take.
“I need you to make a bail run with me. I’ll finish typing this up and meet you by the trap truck. Tell Denise to look for an email from Clark County Detention Center and print off the papers for us. Thanks.”
My current reality was still an adjustment. For twenty years of my life, I had worked as a cop of one kind or another. Being a bail recovery agent—or a bounty hunter—was a left turn from being a cop, though there were still rules to follow. That was where I excelled.
I liked the job and was learning from the best in the business. Unfortunately, the nerves were starting to build as I stood from my chair. It was the same every time I did a run with Sparky.
I liked the guy, but he was hard to read. He barely had any discernible sense of humor, or none I’d detected. The only people who seemed to make him smile were his husband and son.
Everyone thought I was moody as fuck because I didn’t joke and laugh with them, but they were already friends when I started working for Sparky. I wasn’t one to get too familiar, too fast.
“I’ll pass along the information.”
I walked out of his office and over to Denise’s desk, seeing her in the kitchen putting out a tray of pastries.
It was just after eight in the morning, and the pastries looked damn good.
I’d gone for a long run instead of a short one, not leaving myself time for breakfast at home, so I was starving.
“Good morning, Denise. Sparky asked if you’d print off the paperwork he’s forwarding and what you’ll get from CCDC in response. We have a bail run this morning.”
I reached for a cheese Danish, grabbing a napkin to hold under it so I didn’t make a mess. That much, Mom also taught me.
“You got it.” She then leaned closer, looking over her shoulder toward Sparky’s office. “Is he in the mood yet? He always gets in the mood when Monty is gone.”
I held in my laugh. That was no damn joke. “I’m not sure.”
She shook her head. “They’re very much in love, and with Monty out of town, Sparky doesn’t know what to do with himself. Hell, even Dixie gets tired of his BS, and she’s a sweet girl.”
People thought I was moody—as I heard them say when they thought I wasn’t listening. There was nobody moodier than Sparky.
“You’ll have to tell me, Denise. I haven’t worked here long enough to know.” I turned toward my desk, taking my pastry to eat in peace before Sparky and I left.
Dixie, our office mascot, trotted into the swamp with Hardy behind her, backpack on his shoulder. He disappeared into his office and returned quickly with a folder.
“Hi, Jagger. Do you mind feeding Dixie? I have something Sparky needs to see right away.”
Hardy didn’t wait for an answer before he hustled into Sparky’s office and closed the door. The kid was Sparky’s son, and it seemed they had a precarious relationship, though I’d never comment. It wasn’t my business.
I held my hand out, and the sweet dog came closer. “Hey, girl. Let’s get you some breakfast. How are you?”
I absolutely loved that dog. If Hardy would let me take her home with me, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
After I filled Dixie’s dish with food from the container in the kitchen pantry, I checked her freshwater fountain to ensure it was fully functional. I left her to enjoy her food while I grabbed a cruller and went to enjoy my second breakfast.
Checking a news app on my phone, I ate my fried dough and waited for Sparky to come out of his office to tell me what we were doing that day.
“Hey, will you go inside and start the paperwork to pick up our guy? I need to make a call. Here’s the folder. Check’s inside.”
Sparky handed me the paperwork as he stepped out of the shitty trap truck he used to drive prisoners to and from jail. He walked away with his cellphone to his ear, obviously having more important things to deal with other than our current client.
I flipped open the folder to see the information regarding the guy we were bailing out: Dickie Normous. What the fuck kind of name was that? No known address and no Social Security number. Sounded like a real winner to me.
His bond for aggravated assault was twenty thousand dollars, but we only had to put up ten percent, so the check was for two grand. I pressed the button outside the jail’s intake door to summon a deputy.
“Can I help you?” The voice was that of the redheaded clerk, Anita.
“Jagger Hansen from Sparks Bail Bonds to collect Dickie Normous? He’s been arraigned.”
“Yep.” The door buzzed, and I twisted the handle, stepping inside and over to the desk.
“Anita, it’s good to see you.” I handed her the bond papers Sparky had signed, along with the check.
“Hello, Jagger. Let me ask you somethin’. Do you like to show a lady a good time? Maybe you’d like to meet my friends and me at Piggy’s Bar in the Arts District. Ask Brian Greeley if I’m lyin’. He loves to come to Piggy’s to hang out with us.”
Without waiting for me to answer, Anita took the paperwork, offering a wink. If I were straight, that woman wouldn’t be my type, but maybe Gree liked his women a little rough? How the hell did I know?
“When I see him, I’ll tell him you said hello. Now, can I get copies of the paperwork, please? When can I collect Dickie Normous?” I handed Anita a twenty-dollar bill for the copies.
I had no damn clue who Dickie Normous was, but Sparky was intent on bailing the guy out after he got a call from… Did he say Governor Gregory?
Did Governor Thomas Gregory call Jesse Sparks to bail someone out? What the hell was going on? I couldn’t wait to see the person who went by the name Dickie Normous.
Deputy Dirk Marin came out with a big son of a bitch in an orange jumpsuit, athletic slides, waist cuffs, and leg chains. The guy was painted from his forehead to the tips of his fingers with white grease paint, though his face was made up like a scary-ass clown.
I couldn’t imagine how one would begin to wash that shit away. What a fucking mess. As I stared, something seemed vaguely familiar about the man, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.
“Uncuff him and let him change, Deputy. We’re paying his bail, and last I knew, you don’t rent out those orange jumpsuits.”
Based on everything I’d witnessed about Dirk Marin, the man was a real prick. I had no idea why he didn’t like those of us who worked for Sparks Bail Bonds, but I’d heard Fitz refer to Marin as Greeley’s reject one time, so maybe there was something there?
The deputy handed Dickie Normous a bag with clothes. “You can change in there. We’re keeping the sheet as evidence for trial.”
Marin pointed to the restroom and released the cuffs and chains before he left the waiting room. Dickie didn’t waste time heading into the john.
Part of me felt terrible for the guy in the sad clown makeup, though I had no idea the extent of his crimes. Aggravated assault was a serious charge.
Maybe the fucker was a psycho? I wasn’t about to become a fucking sap for broad shoulders and muscular forearms.
Dickie had been picked up on Fremont, where he was posing as a clown statue, collecting tips in a fedora.
There were a lot of freaks who busked on The Old Strip, so who knew what the guy might have done.
Though not many of the performers beat the fuck out of someone else, so that was something to consider.
When Dickie returned from the men’s room, head still hanging, he was wearing basketball shorts and a tank top. He shuffled over to the chairs and sat. Finally, Sparky came into the waiting room. “We ready?”
I sighed. “They seem to be hesitant to process the paperwork for me, like they do for the rest of you. I’m new. I guess they don’t respect me like the other agents.”
Sparky chuckled. “Jagger, respect is earned, my friend. You’re from a job where you scared the fuck out of people because you were a member of the Nevada Highway Patrol. Folks only respected you because they were afraid of you. Well, that stupid flat-brimmed hat probably helped.”
I chuckled. “And, Sparky, respectfully, I say fuck you.”
My boss let loose a surprising guffaw. “Yeah, I’d say the same if I were you.”
Finally, Anita returned with the papers. “Here’s your receipt and a copy of the signed release. Remember to tell Greeley we miss him at Piggy’s.”
I nodded. “How could I forget?”
I stepped over to Dickie Normous, whose head was hanging low. “You ready to go?”
Dickie had pulled his hair back into a ponytail and wiped off a lot of the grease paint while he was in the washroom. When Dickie looked up, he locked those beautiful blue eyes on me. I fought the urge to blink. Surely my mind was playing tricks on me.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Bailey? Is this a joke?”
Sparky touched my shoulder. “Get him out of here before you say anything else. His brother would rather not draw attention to this. He doesn’t want it to hit the papers.”
We escorted Dickie Normous, or as I knew him, Bailey Gregory, the older brother of Governor Thomas Gregory, to the trap truck. Bailey got into the backseat without a word.
I turned to Sparky. “How do you know who he is?”
Sparky chuckled. “Did you think I wouldn’t vet your ass before I took you on? I called the governor, whom you worked for, like any smart employer would do. Not surprisingly, when he needed someone to bail out his brother, he knew he had someone at my shop he trusted.”