Mama Said (6 page)

“If only you were ten years older.” She gave him her most flirtatious smile.

“That’s okay, I like older women.” If nothing else, he was persistent.

“Enough flirting, Terrell. Let’s get back to practice.” Shane said.

Seeing Shane like this was incredibly sexy. Sure, she’d known the guy was in good shape, but she’d been so focused on his in-your-face obnoxiousness it was hard to see anything else. But this was different.

The way he worked with the kids showed another side to him. He paid attention to them, and they looked at him as if he were some kind of god. Obviously he was far more complex than she’d initially thought. Suddenly she felt superficial and woefully inadequate.

“I’m going to wrap things up a few minutes early. I have some business to attend to.” Shane opened a gym bag and pulled out a t-shirt. In one quick move, he replaced the t-shirt he was wearing with the other. “I’ll be back next Wednesday. But in the meantime—”

In unison they spoke. “No drugs, no alcohol, no junk food, and no gang-banging.”

For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed to have a real smile on his face. “I think you’ve got it.”

She walked with him as he left the gym and went by way of a side door. “How long have you been coming here?”

“Every Wednesday for about a year. Several of us work together year ’round to give the kids something to focus on. Let’s face it, none of these kids could afford to take martial arts classes.”

“How did you start?”

“I met the principal while I was volunteering at a youth shelter. She is committed to the kids, and is constantly on the lookout for volunteer mentors to impact their lives in a meaningful way.” He hit the remote for his car, threw his gym bag in the trunk, and then opened her door. “We worked out a reward system to make the kids eligible to participate. So far it’s been working.”

She settled into the passenger seat, hooking up her seat belt. “A kind of pre-screening process?”

“Absolutely. The kids in my class are attending school regularly, they have at least a B average, they aren’t in trouble with the law, and don’t have a gang affiliation. It goes without saying if they use what I’ve taught them as a means to intimidate, they’re out immediately.”

“Has that been a problem?”

“A couple of times. But nothing I couldn’t handle.”

It was becoming increasingly clear to her that there wasn’t a lot Shane couldn’t handle. Give her a broken nail and a bad hair day and she was in a dither. She wished she could muster up the confidence to tackle life’s curves. Give her a quiz on the latest fashion trends or how to accessorize and she was golden. Anything more complex than that and she was at a loss.

“Are you going—” Her words were cut off when the back window of the car suddenly shattered, sprinkling glass throughout the interior.

Bits adhered to her skirt and dusted her bare arms. Tiny shards dotted her hair. Panic made her hands shake and her stomach twist.

He pushed on the top of her head. “Get down.”

She had no intention of arguing. Sliding down in the seat as far as she could go, she managed to squeak. “Was that a bullet?”

Nodding, he negotiated his way through the streets while she kept her lanky body squeezed as close to the floor as possible. She tried not to dwell on the possibility that whoever shot at them was now following close behind.

“Stray gunfire. Happens sometimes in this neighborhood.”

Shane didn’t seem fazed. He acted as if this kind of thing happened every day.

Crouched on the floor like the chicken she was, her heart was rat-a-tat-tatting in her chest, likely to explode any minute, and she was dangerously close to hyperventilating. “I…” The words couldn’t seem to make their way from her brain to her mouth in any logical sequence.

“Are you okay?”

She tried to smile, but suspected she looked like a wild-eyed idiot. Trying to soothe the raging fear inside, she began to hum, like a lunatic. “Music,” she managed to stutter, even though she was sure he thought she was halfway past crazy.

He cranked up the stereo. As the soothing sounds of Aretha Franklin filled the car, she felt herself begin to relax.

“You can get up now. It’s safe. We’re on the expressway.” He reached out his hand to help her slide back into the seat. “You don’t look so good. You didn’t get hit by glass, did you?”

Somehow she managed to shake her head, even though her whole body seemed to be buzzing from the inside out.

CHAPTER SIX

Shane still couldn’t believe somebody had the balls to shoot at him. And it really pissed him off that it put Gabriella at risk. While his brother hated him, he didn’t see Patrick making this kind of play.

Part of him wanted to check out the neighborhood to see where the shot came from. The other part knew he couldn’t do that with her in the car. Instead, he sped through the side streets, finally breathing more easily once they got onto the expressway.

Mentally, he clicked through his current caseload. Except for the case he was about to testify on, nothing too intense—a couple of divorce cases, a missing persons, an embezzlement scenario.

He glanced over at Gabriella and fresh guilt flashed through him. “The neighborhood isn’t the best, but during the day it’s usually safe.” He touched her hand with his. Her skin had taken an ashen tone.

“Except today.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Are we going to the police station?”

He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “I need to get to court. I’ll go later.” Just thinking about going into the station and filing a report made him tense. Being there brought up way too many memories, all of them bad.

“Did this ever…?” She didn’t finish, instead weaving her fingers into his.

Her touch felt good. It had been a very long time since he’d touched somebody and hadn’t been naked. “Not this close.” He glanced at her and smiled.

As the music of Buddy Guy filled the car, she relaxed into the seat and closed her eyes. “I swear, music runs through my veins instead of blood. When I’m nervous, it makes me calm; when I’m happy it makes me happier; when I’m sad it gives me a sense of peace. It’s almost like I need music to breathe.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I know it makes no sense, but it’s the only way I have of explaining how I feel.”

“I just carry a really big gun. That gives me peace.” He smirked.

She laughed and squeezed his hand. Something about the way she did that made him remember good feelings from the past. He shook them off.

“Once we’re downtown, I’ll get a cab to take you back to the apartment.”

She shook her head. “No way. I’ll go with you to court.”

Tactical error. One glance told him how scared she remained. Even though it was his idea of pure hell, he knew being inside that courthouse would help temper her fear. “If you’re sure.”

* * *

Gabriella was feeling downright mellow by the time he pulled into a parking garage ten minutes later. After going through security, they went up in the elevators to the fifth floor. Shane went into the bathroom to change into a shirt and slacks. As soon as he came out, a man looking to be in his late fifties and wearing a slightly rumpled suit greeted Shane with a robust handshake.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” The man glanced in her direction.

Shane made the introductions. “Gabriella Santos, Vince Perry.”

She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” The man had a nice smile and welcoming demeanor. To be honest, though, it was the fact that they were now surrounded by men and women wearing guns and sworn to protect that made her feel a whole lot better.

“Same here.”

Shane motioned toward her and smiled. “I almost didn’t make it. If Gabriella hadn’t come to get me, I wouldn’t have known until it was too late.”

“Quite a coincidence they finally get around to hearing my motion this late in the day with virtually no notice.” Vince shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Whatever dirty tricks they’re trying to pull, you made it here. The judge will be calling the case in a few minutes. But I’ve got to tell you, Tony’s been acting kind of weird, like something’s bothering him, but he won’t talk.” His mouth pulled into a tight grimace, as if he wanted to say more. “I’ve got the motion prepared, but I’ll need your testimony about the alibi witness if the judge asks for it.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

The bailiff came out to call the case and Shane ushered her inside. She sat in one of the seats towards the back while Shane moved in close to the defense table. A handful of other people sat in the courtroom. The young man in the orange jumpsuit sitting at the table with Vince was obviously the defendant, Tony Marcos. A female attorney was at the opposite table, and a few spectators were scattered in seats behind the rails.

Judging by the hushed silence and angry expressions, almost everyone knew Shane. And they weren’t happy about his arrival. There was a definite vibe in the air that hovered somewhere between bad and horribly bad.

The state’s attorney looked really angry. Gabriella couldn’t tell if it was due to the woman’s bad choice of wardrobe or frustration with the case. Even a blind man could tell the woman was having a ‘What Not to Wear’ moment.

Wearing a pair of boring, sensible flats, a too-tight and equally boring brownish-black suit with a white turned dingy beige blouse peeping from beneath the suit jacket, she shuffled through paperwork while she waited for the judge to enter the courtroom. Since Gabriella’s sister was a state’s attorney, she knew the woman was both overworked and underpaid, so she gave her bad fashion choices a pass, although she had a nearly irresistible urge to offer her a makeover.

Instead, she bit her tongue and glanced around the courtroom. She’d watched her sister during a trial and knew that, unlike on TV, trials were typically lackluster and boring. Today, however, the whole courtroom seemed charged with a kind of frenetic energy, although she couldn’t pinpoint the cause.

When the judge entered, the mood ratcheted up even more. A stern looking man of indeterminate age, he bristled as he sat down in his chair, as if he didn’t want to be there, either.

Vince Perry began to speak on the merits of his motion for dismissal while the judge listened. Next the state’s attorney argued her point. As she did, Gabriella noticed a group of men in the back. Wearing suits, they could have been anything from attorneys with time to kill to reporters looking for the next big story. Unlike her, they seemed supremely interested in what was going on. In fact, several times the judge gave them a stern look when their whispers got a little too loud.

Maybe they were some kind of court groupies. If so, Gabriella figured they needed to get a life.

Finally, the bailiff called Shane to the witness stand. After being sworn in, he gave his testimony. Looking as if he’d recited the story a million times, he was confident. Everyone in the courtroom seemed unnaturally focused on what Shane was saying, especially the men in back, who remained eerily quiet as if intent on his every word.

Gabriella still felt rattled by the gunshot incident and was trying to discharge her anxiety by playing one of her favorite games: She was giving males and females alike a makeover. Ninety percent of the people in the room sorely needed it.

For instance, the guy with the bad glasses and the poorly fitting suit, she re-outfitted in a nice Armani suit, got him a good haircut, and exchanged his out-of-style glasses frames for a pair of small, squarish wire-rimmed ones. He looked downright presentable when she mentally finished with him.

She was just about to give the state’s attorney a head-to-toe makeover when the judge stood. “I’ll review the testimony and the motions submitted and give you a decision within twenty-four hours.”

Shane talked to Vince Perry for a few minutes while guards escorted Tony away. When they moved towards her, one of the court groupies walked up to Shane and shoved him in the chest.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, O’Neil? You trying to get a cop killer off?” The guy’s voice echoed in the small courtroom.

Cop killer? She should have paid much more attention during the testimony. She couldn’t help wondering if Shane’s car being used for target practice had anything to do with this court appearance.

She glanced around to see if the bailiffs were going to do anything, but it didn’t look like they were. They might interfere if it came to blows, but for right now they seemed content to watch.

Shane folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not doing anything except offering testimony. It’s not my fault your whole case stinks. The kid’s getting railroaded. You and everybody else in this courtroom knows it. There’s nothing but circumstantial evidence to tie him to the crime.”

The man bounced on the balls of his feet. He looked as if he might be contemplating taking Shane on in a fist fight, which no doubt would be a really bad idea on his part.

“No.” The man pointed a shaky finger at both Shane and Vince. “You two want to get a cop killer off.”

Vince spoke up at that point, grabbing Shane by the bicep. “We want justice served.” Without another word, he steered Shane toward her, and the three of them headed toward the elevator.

“What was that all about? And do you think those guys had anything to do with the window of your car getting blown out?” Her earlier bout of nerves resurfaced as they rode down in the elevator and she made all sorts of villainous and paranoid connections in her head.

Vince stopped Shane with a grab to his forearm. “What’s this about your car getting shot at?”

Shane shook his head. “It’s nothing. Wrong place, wrong time. Random gunfire on the South Side. That kind of stuff happens all the time there.” Shane seemed agitated, but for once it didn’t seem directed at her. They’d somehow had a special moment in the car when he held onto her hand. “Besides, O’Brien’s a prick, a big talker in front of his friends. He wouldn’t have the balls to shoot out my window.”

“He seemed pretty angry.” Though she was stating the obvious again, Gabriella couldn’t help it.

Vince glanced at Shane, then back at her. “Emotions run high when a cop dies. There’s a rush to judgment. They want to believe they’ve caught the bad guy. But in this case they haven’t.”

“It’s not our fault they don’t want to do their job.” Shane leaned against the wall of the elevator and folded his arms across his chest.

“What happened?” They both were talking in riddles. Then again, maybe it would have made more sense if she’d been paying attention earlier in court.

“A cop interrupted a liquor store robbery and was killed. My client is accused of committing the crime, but he wasn’t even in town at the time.”

She nodded as a level of understanding sank in. Shane had been there to testify that he’d uncovered evidence that the defendant was incapable of committing the crime. No wonder everyone was so on edge.

* * *

Shane couldn’t explain why, but he had a really bad feeling about the Marcos case. Maybe it was the confrontation with O’Brien afterward. Maybe it was residual from the window being blown out in his car. Maybe it was a good old-fashioned case of a gut-twitch that wouldn’t go away.

Either way, as he waited for Gabriella while she changed, a niggling sensation in the back of his head warned him to send her back to Florida on a one-way ticket. But a bigger part of him knew if he did that he’d never see her again. And for the first time in a very long time, maybe forever, he didn’t want that to happen.

“I’ll be in later.” He pulled to the curb in front of the Blues Stop and came around to help her out of the car. She gave him a weird expression when he grasped her arm. He had a nearly irresistible urge to kiss her goodbye, but fought it.

What the hell? A few hours around her and he was going soft.

She turned to look at him as she walked to the door looking smoking hot, as always. “Okay…hmm…I guess I’ll see you later.”

After he watched her saunter inside and meet up with Mack, he went back to his car. He drove to his office and examined everything he had on the Tony Marcos case, hoping maybe he’d missed something.

Cops had a tendency to go a little crazy when one of their own was killed. He could understand that. But there seemed to be more. He just hadn’t figured it out yet.

He was scanning through file after file when his phone rang. “O’Neil.”

“Tony Marcos was stabbed this afternoon in lock-up,” Vince said softly on the other end of the line.

Was this another case of cops ensuring that justice was served?

* * *

When Shane arrived at the club some time later, Gabriella noticed he didn’t look very happy. Though that wasn’t all that unusual, his unhappiness this time seemed to run deeper. Sadness evidenced itself in his slouched posture and the defeated expression on his face.

“What’s going on?” Call her crazy, but she needed to know what had him so preoccupied.

“Tony Marcos was stabbed in prison. They’re not sure if he’s going to make it.”

A shiver raced up and down her arms and an eerie sensation rattled her bones. “Oh, my God.”

Shane nodded in a distracted kind of way, as if he were trying to think through a solution in his head. “Tony didn’t want me to testify on his behalf. I’d stake my life on the fact he was being threatened. He was afraid of what might happen.” He blew out a breath. “Now it has.”

She gulped, knowing the answer before she even asked the question. “Do you think that’s why he was attacked?”

He nodded. “I have to figure out a way to prove it.”

Okay, that sounded pretty darn dangerous, even for Shane. But she wanted him to keep talking. She wanted to know what he was thinking. “Are you sure getting shot at earlier isn’t also connected? Those cops seemed awfully angry.”