Rogues Angels Present: Joker's Wild by C. L. Kraemer

Title: Jokers Wild

Author: C. L. Kraemer

Email: http://www.clkraemer.com/

Genre: Suspense

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

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Blurb

Four brothers raised in the Northwest.

Two choose to stay and pursue life in Oregon. Two are seduced by the promise of Hollywood.

Life throws the Palmer brothers an ugly curve when two are killed in preventable accidents. Even more upsetting is the lack of justice in the trials of the perpetrators.

The remaining brothers will find justice using a shared passion of all the participants--motorcycle poker runs.

EXCERPT

2004

The squeak of his teeth against each other reverberated in Joey's ears.

"Joey? Joey!"

The plaintive cry brought his attention back to the moment. Kandace, Kandi, O'Connell ripped her hand from his, rubbing the appendage and pushing her bottom lip into a formidable pout.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You nearly crushed my fingers!"

He resumed glaring across the courtroom at the dapper figure vigorously shaking the lawyer's hand.

"Joey! What is your problem?" Kandi sidled up to the man, running her hand along his muscled arm.

He slowly pivoted her direction, staring in disbelief.

"Do you think he got what he deserved?"

The couple glanced at the defense table. Corey "Slide" Rigby grinned at the mob of young females clustered near the waist high, wooden retainer separating the spectator section from the main body of the courtroom. Bentley Wellington IV snapped his briefcase closed and looked up at the Hon. Scott Fournier, currently vacating the bench; few noticed the slight nod passing between the two.

Joey surveyed the growing mayhem in the courtroom.

"I need to get some fresh air." He powered through the writhing mass of humanity trying to grab the attention of the action adventure star and marched to the open colonnade.

Kandi scrambled to keep up with his strides, dodging the gauntlet of pushing cameramen and reporters shoving microphones in her face and shouting questions at her.

Joey steered them to the side of the building away from the media circus.

"Damned vultures." He reached around to his hip pocket and withdrew the round tin whose impression was permanently stamped on all the back pockets of his jeans. Twisting the lid, he snagged a pinch of brown flakes between his thumb and forefinger. Using his middle finger, he tucked the flakes inside his bottom lip.

"I really wish you'd give that up. It's disgusting." Kandi wrinkled her nose.

"I suppose your herb habit is any better?"

 Kandi sniffed. "It's medicinal."

"Right, and I'm a virginal school girl."

The crowd in front of the building began buzzing until the sound engulfed the immediate area. Cameramen and reporters started spreading across the lawn and down the side corridors of the building, edging toward the couple.

"Must be the star making his appearance," Joey stepped off the concrete walkway onto the manicured lawn and peered at the building's facade. The wide sidewalk in front of the judicial edifice was a sea of reporters clutching microphones aimed in the direction of a podium.

When the action hero stepped up to the provided mike, multiple voices vied for the attention of the man.

The actor flashed his best on-screen smile to the mob and raised a hand.

"I'll get to all your questions--later. Right now I need to give credit where credit is due…"

Joey curled up one corner of his mouth and turned from the scene. A familiar form caught his attention, and he slowed his gait as he watched Bentley Wellington IV casually slip from the gathered insanity.

Odd. I've never seen him relinquish the limelight. He shadowed the lawyer, ducking behind the columns when the man glanced over his shoulder. As Bentley neared the main building, a side door swung open and Judge Fournier stepped into the breezeway. Joey darted to a pillar near the pair. He watched as the lawyer reached into an inner pocket of his suit coat and retrieved a bulging sealed envelope. He started to hand the packet to the judge, glancing Joey's direction.

Joey slipped behind the post, holding back a well chosen swear word.

"I believe this is yours. I found it in my briefcase this morning."

The crinkle of paper tickled Joey's ears. Another familiar voice reached him.

"Uh, oh, oh my. I'm so sorry."

Kandi. He couldn't help himself; he peeked around the support. She was rising slowly and handing the envelope to the Judge with one hand, her opened cell phone in the other.

"No problem, miss. What are you doing here?" The tone of the question was tinged with suspicion.

"Isn't this the door to the ladies' room?"

Joey stuck his crooked forefinger between his front teeth and resumed his hiding spot. He could imagine her big green eyes, luminescent in the refracted light of the windows as she ran her pink tongue over her plump melon tinged lips.

Silence permeated the moment.

One of the men cleared his throat.

"No, ma'am. The public entrance is back down the breezeway and to the right. I'm sure one of the reporters will be glad to direct you from there."

He could hear Kandi giggle. "I'm so directionally challenged. Thank you."

The click of her heels on the concrete echoed against the building. Joey held his position.

"Do you think she knows?" The voice sounded like the lawyer's.

"No. She's too dumb. Did you see her…assets?"

Joey ground his right fist into his left palm.

"Yeah. That'd sure look good on the back of my Fatboy."

Both men laughed and the tension filling the air dissipated.

"You doing the Jay Leno ride?"

"Naw. The in-laws are in town and I'm going to have to pretend to be a good husband."

"Better you than me. Maybe we can sneak in a quick ride to Donna's Hideaway on Sunday."

"I might be able to finagle my way free for the afternoon. I'll get hold of you by Sunday morning."

"Not too early. Unlike you, I have no wife…"

"Currently."

"…yeah, whatever. So I plan on hitting the clubs on Saturday night. Don't call before ten."

"It's going to take us a couple hours just to get there."

"Yep. That's why it's called a road trip."

The sound of footsteps ricocheted back to Joey, and he ventured to peek from behind his column.

 He was about to walk toward the front of the building and locate Kandi when a pair of hands grabbed his side.

"Boo!"

He snapped around, arm cocked, hand fisted.

Her eyes were wide and rounded, her face devoid of all color.

"Christ, Kandi. I nearly hit you!"

"S-s-sorry."

She wiggled her cell phone back and forth in front of him.

"I got pictures of the envelope," her sing-song announcement reminded Joey of his six year old nephew.

"Terrific. You have pictures of a white envelope stuffed with…"

"Money." Kandi closed her eyes. "My favorite."

"… strips of paper cut in the shape of dollar bills."

"WHAT?!" Kandi's eyes popped open.

Joey put his hand over her mouth and snugged her to him. "Shhh."

The two legal figures standing near the undulating crowd of reporters soon disappeared into the mass.

Joey peeked from behind his stanchion and swore under his breath. His gaze fell to the furious green eyes trying to burn a hole through his head.

"That's the story they would tell anyone who asked. You don't think they'll admit to an exchange of money? And face it, sweetheart, you're not a very reliable witness."

"OUCH!" He whipped his hand from her mouth. "That hurt!"

Kandi stepped away from him. "Then don't put it where it doesn't belong." She stomped toward the parking lot.

Joey caught up with her and slipped his hand through her arm, turning her to face him. He pulled her wiggling body to him and caught her lips beneath his own. The maneuver worked. He felt her relax.

Breaking off the kiss, he put his lips next to her ear. The floral smell of her shampoo tickled his nose and he pulled in the fragrance.

"Sorry, Babe. We just need to be smarter than they are."

She looked up into eyes brimming with pain and gently kissed his chin. "I know. We'll think of something."

"Right now, I'm in the mood for a road trip. Feel like going to Donna's?"

"I was hoping you'd want to ride. I traded shifts with Ally, so I don't have to be back to work for two glorious days."

The pair headed to the parking lot, avoiding the gaggle of television crews intent on getting the first scoop in the Alex Palmer vs. Corey Rigby wrongful death suit.

Joey swung his leg over the bike and backed it out into the street. Kandi stepped on the peg and flipped her leg over the backrest. Pushing the button to start the bike, Joey gave the throttle a full twist. The engine roared to life, echoing off the surrounding towering high-rises as the back tire spun in place filling the parking lot with billowing, acrid white smoke.

Recognizing the maneuver, Kandi wrapped her arms around Joey's waist and clinched shut her eyes.

The motorcycle screeched out of the lot, leaving a black rubber streak on the pavement. When the smoke cleared, the bike and its occupants were nowhere to be seen.

~ * ~

Corey Rigby stepped back from the microphone and searched the crowd for his lawyer. He stood at the podium alone. Cameras zoomed in to feature his pale, sweating face. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the courthouse.

The gauntlet had been slammed down with smoking force.

 Other titles by C. L. Kraemer

A sleepover

We had a first here today. A sleepover with all four grandchildren at the same time. As I look across the living room it's hard to believe the sleeping little angels are the same four children yelling and running earlier this evening. My husband and I are tired from trying to keep up with them. We realize how lucky we are that our grandchildren live so close to us. We also realize how lucky we are that all of our grand children are healthy.  They get along well so long as we monitor them and keep the competition down to a minimum.

With the summer in full swing we are busy with our usual canning, yard work and this year we are working on the exterior of our house. As usual my husband and I are spending as much time with our family out in the warm weather.  We know all to well it will not be long before the winter comes again.  In my spare time I work on my work-in-progress Until We Met Again.

What are you doing this summer? Leave a comment for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card.

Below is a short blurb of Until I Met You.

J.T. Reynolds returns from the war a broken man with one goal on his mind, protect his deceased brother’s baby. When he meets the baby’s guardian, Jessica Reid, he conceals his identity in order to judge if she’s a competent caregiver.

He finds peace and contentment in her arms and longs to build a loving family with her.

Jessica has been lied to by most of the men in her life and finds it difficult to form a lasting relationship.

With sole guardianship of her nephew she struggles to find a trustworthy babysitter until a handsome man moves into the neighborhood. Learning to trust again, Jessica finds strength and love in Tyler’s strong arms.

Jessica is devastated when she learns Tyler has deceived her. Is her love resilient enough to forgive him?

Cliffhanger from Until I Met You

            Jessica starred transfixed as she stared at the photograph. Although she didn’t need to, Jessica glanced at the caption below, shaking her head in disbelief, “J.T. and me on the Fourth of July.” From the appearance of the picture, Tyler knew Grant for years. Propping her elbows on the desk, Jessica held her head in her hands. The man she’d grown to love was the man she’d been looking for.  She had thought she could trust him, and all this time he’d been lying to her. Why did he lie? What did he plan to gain by pretending to be someone else? Tyler was just like all the other men in her life.

            A small sob sounded in her throat. Jessie thought he was the one man she could trust. She should have known better. The men in her life were never trustworthy. Some things never change.

            She’d heard him say goodnight to Wyatt and close his bedroom door.

            “Tyler.” Her voice sounded more like a plea than merely calling his name.

            When he walked into the office her eyes widened beseeching him. “Thanks, J. T.”

            He glanced at the laptop and nodded. “Yes, that’s me.” His voice sounded heavy with regret. No he sounded relieved.

            Tyler or J. T. or whoever he was stopped two feet from her side. Standing Jessica faced him.

            “Jessica?” He reached a hand out to her. When she ignored his gesture he lowered his hand.

            “Please let me explain.” Again he extended his hand to her.

            She tried not to hear the anguish in Tyler’s voice. “Why?”

            “Let’s sit down.” He placed his hand on her elbow.

            Not wanting to feel the warmth of his touch or his kindness, Jessica jerked her arm away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

            He gave her a cut nod then followed her to the living room. She sat on the couch, her back stiff and straight. Jessica guarded her emotions. Tyler sat beside her, turning to face her.

            “My life turned around when Grant’s family took me in as a foster child. For the first time, I found a family who loved me. I was a little guy who was always picked on and Grant watched over me.”

            “I know, but that doesn’t explain why you lied to me.” Jessica worked her hands in her lap.

            “I didn’t find out Grant died until after I’d completed my special ops. I received an email from his little sister, another child the Markham’s took in. She explained what happened and that you were taking care of Wyatt. I promised Grant I’d watch other Wyatt if anything happened to him. When I make a promise, I keep it no matter what. When I returned home, I needed to find out who was caring for his child.

            “In the service, I learned to know your opponent before you strategize. Once I got to know you I saw how good you were with Wyatt. It was evident he loves you. I fell in love with you too.”

            Jessica flinched when he referred to her as his opposition. “So you got to know me yet you still didn’t have the decency to tell me who you are. You let me believe you were Tyler Brown.” She swallowed quickly before the emotions tightened her throat. “We made love and you still didn’t bother to explain.”

            “I tried to tell you several times. My name is Justin Tyler Reynolds. I was named after my wonderful father.” Heaving a sigh, Tyler leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. “He’d come home drunk and beat up my mom. One night he beat her so bad she died before she got to the hospital. I was twelve at the time and swore I’d never used his name again. From then on I went by J. T.”

            His voice was unusually monotone and devoid of all feeling. This wasn’t the fun loving man she knew. Jessica wanted to reach out and comfort him, but the thought of his deceit stopped her. 

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Until I Met You

     J. T. Reynolds stood motionless on Jessica Reid's porch. His military training had kicked in; know your adversary before you strategize. Intent on getting to know her, he first introduced himself to her neighbors. He'd gleaned the three women on the cul-de-sac were close. Their bond extended to more than three single women living on the same street. He'd learned Jessica hadn't lived here long but she'd known both of the women for some time. Jessica and Blake had been friends since elementary school. J. T. was amazed at how much the women revealed when he talked to them.

     The exterior of her home was well maintained, but J. T. knew all too well appearances were deceiving. His family always gave the pretense of a loving family until they were behind closed doors.

     A porch with white columns covered the majority of the front of her house. He glanced in the large window, studying his quarry. From where he stood, he could see her sitting in a rocking chair, holding the little tike. Mesmerized, he watched the woman hold the infant in her arms and slowly rock back and forth.

Jessica had a braid of long brown hair across the opposite breast from the baby. From where he stood, her features looked plain. No--solemn. Her face drawn and shoulders slumped. Impulsively, J. T. wanted to comfort her with an embrace. For a woman he didn't know, yet, she brought out a protective instinct in him. He tried to remember what his brother had said about the woman but drew a blank. This was personal, yet after so many years in the service, he felt as if this was another mission and pushed his emotions aside.

     For some reason he wondered what color her eyes were. J.T. shook his head. He wasn't here because of the woman. The baby was his reason for this task. The child didn't know it, but he was the closest person J.T. had to a family. He would do anything for his foster brother's son.

     Growing up, J. T. had spent years being shuffled from one foster home to another. He never felt a connection to any of the families until he moved in with Grant Markham's family. The two of them had become best friends and referred to each other as brothers.

     When Wyatt was born, Grant emailed J. T. in Afghanistan with the news. He asked him if he'd be the baby's godfather and to look out for the boy if anything should happened. At the time, J. T. joked with him about how dangerous Grant's job as a computer programmer was and he needed to watch out for paper cuts. J. T. would give anything to hear Grant's laughter again.

     J. T. focused on Jessica gently swaying in the rocking chair. Listening carefully, he swore he could hear her soothing voice sing a lullaby. The scene in the house was very hypnotic and he felt a sense of peace. For the first time in years, he wanted to belong to a family. To come home to a wife and children would be a peaceful change to the world he'd witnessed lately. Putting his arms around a woman at the end of the day, sharing the good and the bad would be heaven. J. T. quickly reached out and pressed the doorbell without another thought. He wasn't here for a touchy-feely moment. The child was the only reason he stood on her porch.

     The doorbell chimed, piercing the still morning. He could still see her image through the window as she walked toward the door. Her movements were lithe and gracefully. Enticing. With a moment of doubt, J. T. stepped back and started to retrace his steps down the porch when he heard the door open.

The first thing he noticed when she opened the door were her rich brown eyes. Expressive bedroom eyes. He'd seen recognition in her gaze. In a moment of silence, a sensation of desire heated his blood. It had been too long since he had sex if one look from her had him thinking in that direction.

     Jessica wore jeans and a white eyelet blouse which hung low, where she held the baby, revealing the swell of her breast. Her creamy white skin had him yearning to caress her.

     "You must be Tyler."

     He was glad to see the corners of her mouth curve into a smile and chase the sadness away.

     "Blake called and said you saw her yesterday."

     He'd done his homework. Talking to her friends and neighbors helped paved the way to meet her. J. T. removed his cap and pressed the cloth between his hands. Always able to talk himself out of any situation, at the moment, he struggle for a coherent thought. "Yes, ma'am."

     "Won't you come in?"

     Her hospitality was genuine and sincere. J. T. speculated Jessica wouldn't be so friendly if she knew who he was and his plan to spy on her to determine if she was fit to watch over Wyatt.

     Her eyes widened with surprise. She held Wyatt against her shoulder the way she had the other day in front of the window. Then she reached out her free hand to him.

     "I recognized you from the other day. Nice to meet you. I'm Jessica Reid."

Her soft fingers wrapped around his hand. The warmth and tenderness created a connection to the family closeness he'd seen moments ago causing him to yearn for a better life.

     "The pleasure is mine."

     Startled by the serenity he felt with her, J. T. wanted more and leaned toward her. He breathed in her fresh, clean scent, a fragrance he didn't recognize. Her deep brown gaze studied him closely and he wondered who was doing the investigation, her or him.

     "Tyler Brown."

     He'd gone by J. T. for so long he almost cringed when he used his middle name. As a kid he wanted to change his name. He didn't want anything to do with the father he was named after.

     Wyatt wore a blue T-shirt and a pair of navy shorts. Clinging to her, he barely moved. The baby's head was covered with such fine, light hair he appeared bald.

     "Your baby's cute."

     She turned sideways so he could glimpse the boy's profile. "Thank you." She lowered her shoulders on a sigh. "Wyatt's my sister Rachel's baby."

     J. T. noticed her throat work after she mentioned her sister's name. The death of her sister was still an opened wound. He made a mental note to keep that discussion at a minimum unless she brought Rachel up. As for himself, Grant's death hadn't fully registered. At times he still couldn't believe he'd never see his friend again. He half expected to see Grant walk through the door any moment.

     "Won't you sit down?" she offered.

     He glanced around. A mixed-match set of furniture filled the room. The couch and large chair were contemporary pieces. The coffee and end table appeared to be antique. The blended furniture gave the room a peaceful atmosphere. Most of the couch was covered with baby clothes and toys. Only half a cushion was cleared, so he decided to stand.

     "That's okay, ma'am."

     "I'm sorry." She leaned down to free some space for him. Bending over, her blouse gaped even more than before. He shamefully noticed her breast and couldn't tear his gaze away.

     "I can do that." He needed to focus on something other than her creamy skin and the lovely breast he wanted to hold.

Jessica stepped back, giving him room to work. "I'm still adjusting to Wyatt's schedule."

     Not a word of complaint. She'd taken the blame for the disorganized room. Glancing around the room, the only clutter appeared to be baby items. Jessica apparently didn't have any regrets about taking the infant in. Obviously, she met challenges head on. He liked that about her.

     After placing the clothes on an overstuffed chair, he sat on the couch. Jessica sat beside him still holding the baby.

     The little tike's light hair, what little he had, stood up at the crown of his head. Wyatt's eyes fluttered opened and his smiled formed a tiny dimple in his cheek. Then gradually his eyes closed.

      J. T. said absently, "He looks like his dad."

     "Why do you say that?" Her dark eyes fixed on his again.

     Without enlightening her how he knew his father had the same dimple, J. T. said, "Wyatt's coloring is lighter." He ran his hand over the soft fuzzy, blonde head. The child was content and relaxed against her bosom. He looked away from the woman when he realized he envied the child asleep on her breast. Her soft breast would be his favorite place to rest his head too.

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