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Authors: Maryann Miller

Tags: #crime drama, #crime thriller, #mystery and suspense, #romantic suspense, #womens fiction

ONE SMALL VICTORY (11 page)

BOOK: ONE SMALL VICTORY
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Lazano stared at the arrangement of chess
pieces for a moment, then reached out. Chico had no idea what the
man might do. This was one game he knew nothing about. But he was
fascinated with the play of emotions on the man’s face as he looked
at the Cuban, looked at the board, then looked at the Cuban
again.

Chico didn’t have to know the details of the
game to recognize the body language of two bullies playing
double-dare. Tension crackled between them, and he saw beads of
sweat pop out like blisters on the fat man’s forehead. Behind him,
Chico sensed a stir of apprehension in the two goons.

Lazano finally picked up his bishop and
started to place it on a square. His hand hovered for a moment, and
then he moved the piece in another direction in one swift action.
“Checkmate.”

As the word reverberated in the sudden
stillness, Chico instinctively took a step backward. The Cuban
erupted out of his chair, upending the table and sending the chess
pieces tumbling across the white carpeting like miniature acrobats.
Lazano appeared frozen in place as the Boss pulled a Walther P5 out
of his waistband and shoved the barrel deep into a pudgy cheek.
“Don’t. You. Ever. Fucking. Do. That. Again.”

Chico held his breath, sure that if someone
made the wrong move or the wrong sound, Lazano’s brains would join
the chess pieces on the floor.

After what seemed like hours, the Boss pulled
back and tucked the gun away. He patted Lazano on the cheek. “Now
be a good boy and clean up this mess.”

Lazano gave a brief nod, and the Boss turned
to Chico. “Why do some hombres figure the rules don’t apply to
them?”

“I don’t know, Boss. Rules are rules.”

“Good answer.” The Cuban walked over to a
portable bar and poured a drink. “What about this broad Frank tole
me about?”

“She says she can move some stuff.”

“Not in our territory.”

Chico shook his head. “I was clear on
that.”

“What’s her story? She just show up out of
the clear blue, or what?”

“She’s been buying for a while. No hassles.
No problems.”

“So. You’re going to speak for her?”

Chico swallowed hard. If anything went wrong,
it’d be his ass. It’d be safer not to risk his position, and
possibly his life, but he hated to pass up the opportunity to add
to his stable of pushers. He wasn’t going to get rich if he didn’t
expand.

“We’ll start slow. I’ll watch her.”

“You do that.”

The icy tone that underscored the words sent
a ripple of shivers up Chico’s back. He’d have to make double sure
this bitch didn’t screw him over.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Walking into the entrance of the Harvey
Hotel, Jenny glanced at the beautiful sculpture to her left and
regretted wearing jeans. The setting was definitely more upscale
than Randy’s steakhouse, and she could have at least worn pressed
jeans. But at least she wasn’t decked out in leather and chains.
She was beginning to hate that costume.

Steve had suggested meeting here because the
hotel had several conventions booked, and they could blend into the
crowds. Nobody would pay any attention to one more couple having
drinks in the lounge. He said the lounge was right across from the
registration desk and she spotted it right away. She also saw him
sitting at a table at the far wall. He looked comfortably casual in
Chinos and a Polo shirt and had a glass of something amber resting
on the small table in front of him.

A few other couples sat at various tables
scattered throughout the room, with a few singles on stools at the
bar. The hum of conversations battled with some country tune on the
radio, and a thin layer of smoke battled with the ventilations
system.

Jenny wound her way around tables to reach
the corner and take a seat across from Steve. “Sorry I’m late.
Should have allowed more time to find the place.”

“No problem. I’ve only been here a few
minutes.” Steve motioned to the young, blonde waitress who stepped
over.

“What can I get you?”

What Jenny really wanted was an ice-cold
beer, preferably a longneck, but the setting seemed to call for
something a bit more genteel. “Amaretto and coke.”

The girl looked to Steve. “You okay,
Sir?”

“Fine.”

After the girl walked back to the bar, he
gave Jenny a searching look. “You okay?”

Jenny broke eye contact, trying to guess how
he’d pegged her nervousness that quickly. Maybe because he’s a cop.
She almost laughed. Talk about putting her brain on hold.

“It’s just been a little rough.”

“Oh?”

Jenny held her response until the waitress
set her drink down and moved off. “Not with the...uh, business.
That’s going fine. Although I feel a little slimier every time I
meet with them.”

Steve smiled, an action that softened the
rough planes of his face and made him almost...Attractive? That is
not the kind of thinking you need to be doing right now, girl.

“When I worked narcotics in Dallas I showered
so much I was afraid I’d lose a layer of skin.”

The humor provided a welcome diversion and
Jenny smiled back.

Steve took a swallow of his drink, then
glanced at her. “So what’s wrong?”

His quiet attention was inviting. With all
avenues of verbal intimacy cut off, sometimes she felt like she
would explode if she couldn’t unload some of the feelings that
needed to be shared. But this was professional. She shouldn’t even
consider confiding in him the way she’d confide in Carol, or her
mother.

“Just the strain of living this double life.”
Jenny was careful to keep her tone light. “The kids give me flack.
My Mom gets pushy about my carousing.”

“You want to pull out?”

She shook her head quickly. That’s the only
thing she was sure about in this whole mess. She did not want to
quit. “I can handle the family,” she said. “And I think the bad
guys are going to let me move to the next level.”

“I thought the time-line had that happening a
few weeks from now?”

“The moment seemed right. I seized it.”

Steve signaled the waitress for another
round, and Jenny recognized it as a stalling action. Did he want to
yell at her the way Ralph used to for doing something he considered
stupid and rash?

She sighed.
Don’t go there, girl. You’ve
come a long way since that period of extreme doubt
. “It was a
good call.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t
begin to list the risks of going to fast with this.”

“I know. But I also know the huge risk of
discovery if this drags on.” Jenny leaned closer and lowered her
voice as if even talking about it made her more vulnerable. “It’s
not like we’re working in some metropolis. Somebody could blow my
cover any time.”

The waitress appeared with the drinks, and
Jenny realized she hadn’t even touched the first one. She sat back
and watched Steve over the rim of her glass as she took a swallow.
He seemed to be conducting an internal debate, a frown pulling his
eyebrows together so they appeared to be one continuous brown line.
At least he didn’t look angry. Thoughtful, she could take. Anger
she still cowered from.

Finally, he set his glass down on the table
and met her gaze. “I’m not going to debate the merits of a mother’s
instincts as compared to those of a cop. Hell, my mother would kill
me if I even insinuated mine were better than hers. But let’s keep
a perspective here. I wouldn’t feel confident in your arena, so you
shouldn’t be over-confident in mine.”

“Point taken. I won’t push about this.”

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a moment, other
conversations humming around them. Jenny watched Steve sip his
drink and look around the room, eyes resting briefly on each
person. She wondered if he was mentally checking them against
Wanted Posters.

“Do you have a family?” Where did that come
from? Jenny touched a finger to her lips wishing she could rewind
this scene and edit that question out. “I am so sorry. I had
no-”

“That’s okay.” He leaned back in his chair,
and a hint of amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Just
takes a sec to adjust to the sudden conversation shift.”

Jenny covered her nervousness by folding her
napkin into a neat little square. “That was a stupid question.
Please don’t feel compelled-”

Steve touched her hand to stop her restless
fingers. “No worries. I’m not easily compelled to do anything.”

Again his humor eased her discomfort, and she
realized that she harbored a wish that the answer to her question
was ‘no.’ But then what? You going to ask him if he wants to move
in?

That thought spurred another surge of
nervousness, and Jenny grabbed her leather purse. “I should go.
Spend some time with my kids.”

“And leave the question unanswered?”

The smile lines deepened around his eyes, and
she noticed how dark they were in the subdued lighting. Like
languid pools... Okay. I am definitely going to have to quit with
the romance novels. She glanced away, hoping to keep her
unprofessional thoughts from showing.

“I’ve never had the pleasure of a family.”
Steve said.

Something about the way he phrased that drew
her curiosity. “Oh?”

Now he seemed to have difficulty meeting her
gaze, and Jenny wondered what could be causing his discomfort. Not
that it was any of her business. But this was very different from
the air of confidence he normally wore like a comfortable old
jacket.

“Not that I haven’t probably messed up a
couple of opportunities,” Steve said, the attempt at humor sounding
a bit forced this time. “But...I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I think
I’ve been running a bit scared since...”

Not sure how she should respond to his
frankness or his hesitation, Jenny used her napkin to wipe
condensation off the side of her glass.

He sighed. “I should just shut up so you can
go.”

“That’s okay. I mean. I’ve got time. You can
talk if you want. Or not.” Way to go. Smother him with words.

“You don’t want to hear the whole boring saga
of Steve Morrity.” He hesitated a moment, then emptied his glass in
one large swallow.

Jenny waited. Maybe he just had to work up
the courage to talk about whatever it was that had him running
scared. But he surprised her by dropping a couple of bills on the
table and standing. “It would look better if we left together.”

“Oh, sure.” Jenny pushed back her chair,
wondering what was was propelling him out the door so fast.

Stepping out of the air-conditioned building,
the heat was like a rude slap. What had happened to autumn? This
was like August at its worst. But why should she be surprised.
Nothing seemed to be happening in anything close to a prescribed
manner, including this meeting with Steve. What had ever possessed
her to ask such a personal question?

Stopping at her car, she glanced two rows
over where he was unlocking a blue Maxima so crusted with street
dust it looked like it hadn’t been washed in years. She watched him
open the door and slide in, glad for the moment to be distanced
from him. It made it easier to think. It also made it easier to
remember in which compartment of her life he belonged.

The sun ricocheted off the windshield of an
SUV that pulled in, momentarily blinding Jenny. When her vision
cleared, she saw his car heading out of the parking lot.

He didn’t look back.

~*~

Steve walked into the station and was hailed
by Linda. “The Chief wants us in the conference room ASAP. Some of
the Task Force is there, too.”

“Did he say why?”

“No.” She looked at him appraisingly. “You
got anything you want to tell me before we go in?”

“Why does it always have to be something I
did?”

“Now that’s a dumb question.” Linda smiled to
soften the indictment.

Steve led the way down the hall and pushed
open the door to the conference room, holding it for Linda to
enter. Gonzales sat at the head of the table, Sheriff Tubbs to his
right, and the DEA guy, Burroughs, to his left. Gonzales wore a
scowl with his three-piece suit. Burroughs looked like he’d gotten
his crimson shirt and white blazer from the Miami Vice wardrobe
department. Tubbs had his usual khaki uniform with the usual sweat
stains seeping out from under his arms. Never failed, summer or
winter the man oozed like he had an internal sprinkling system.

“What’s up with our girl,” Gonzales asked
without preamble.

“Okay if I sit?” Steve asked.

The Chief made a vague gesture. Steve made a
big show of pulling a chair out for Linda, then sat down.

“Last time I was this uncomfortable I was
under the screws of Internal Affairs.” Steve leaned his chair back
on two legs and regarded the trio of men facing him.

“You been keeping close tabs on this Jasik
woman?” The question came from Burroughs.

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t let her do anything stupid, did
you?” This again from the Fed.

Steve glanced at Gonzales, who nodded,
apparently happy to let the DEA guy have center stage for a while.
Steve would rather the questions come from his boss. Then he might
be more inclined to answer - and to keep said answers civil. He
also wished that Jenny had not jumped the timeframe. Obviously that
action had caused some trouble, but he wasn’t going to take full
responsibility.

“If there’s some problem, it doesn’t all fall
on me. If I recall, the bulk of the orientation was done by
you.”

Burrough’s face started to turn red, almost
as if his shirt were bleeding color.

“No need to get testy, here.” Gonzales leaned
forward, insinuating himself into the direct line of sight between
the two men. He kept his attention on Steve. “Something appears to
be heating up out at the ranch. Burroughs spotted all kinds of
activity out there. Including a visit by a local distributor.
What’s his name?”

BOOK: ONE SMALL VICTORY
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ads

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