Authors: Maryann Miller
Tags: #crime drama, #crime thriller, #mystery and suspense, #romantic suspense, #womens fiction
The question was directed to the Fed, who
answered in a tight voice. “Chico.”
Gonzales turned back to Steve. “The usual
pattern is that Chico doesn’t go to the ranch. His boss, Frank,
handles that contact. So Burroughs had to wonder what happened to
send Chico to the Main Man. And is that something connected to our
lady.”
“Okay. It could.” Steve filled them in on
what Jenny had told him. “But taking that step may not be a bad
thing. She’s had damn good instincts in dealing with these
people.”
“Not if she spooked them.”
“I don’t think she did. I think she just
upped the ante.”
The words were delivered with a confidence
Steve was not so sure he felt deep inside. He was risking a lot
with this endorsement and he hoped he wouldn’t regret it. Jenny had
appeared to be wound as tight as a fiddle string earlier. Had she
held something back?
“If I can be so bold as to jump into the
middle of all this testosterone,” Linda said. “I think Steve’s
right. The Jasik woman is smart and savvy. And she’s put too much
into this to do something stupid and blow it.”
Tubbs gave a derisive snort, and Linda shot
him a frigid look along with her question. “What?”
“Never should’a let a civilian get this
deep.”
Steve enjoyed watching Tubbs squirm under
Linda’s glare and had to hide a smile when she came back at him.
“Would you still be thinking that way if the civilian was a
man?”
“Of course.”
The response was just a bit too quick and a
bit too loud to ring true, but before Linda could counter, Gonzales
slapped the table. “That’s enough. I want to hear this kind of
sniping I’ll go home to my kids.”
His tone, more than his words, commanded
everyone’s attention and quiet reigned until he turned to
Burroughs. “Where to from here?”
“We let it play out. But I would caution the
woman to step carefully.”
“Already taken care of,” Steve said, keeping
his tone neutral lest he incite more wrath.
“Fine.” Gonzales held each of them in his
gaze for a moment. “What’s done is done. We can’t change that. So
let’s put judgments and tempers on ice for a while. Morrity, I want
you on top of this woman at all times.”
At another snort from Tubbs, Gonzales looked
like a pressure cooker getting ready to blow. The other man held up
a placating hand. “Sorry. Couldn’t help the image that came to
mind.”
Linda shot him a withering look, and this
time Steve had to turn his face to hide the smile as Tubbs
protested. “What? Just trying to have a little fun. Lower the
temperature in here.”
“We’re done.” Gonzales stood and shoved his
chair up to the table. “Everyone report in as usual.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jenny walked into the living room where she
could hear the TV blaring. Scott, wearing dark blue flannels and a
Longhorn sweatshirt, was sprawled on the floor engrossed in the
latest offering from MTV. She cleared her throat and he looked up,
slowly checking out her outfit that consisted primarily of leather
and chains.
“Halloween’s over,” he said.
“Very funny.”
She watched her son try to smile, but the
underlying seriousness she’d sensed in him these past weeks
overrode the banter.
“Going out again?” he asked. “It’s the third
time this week.”
Jenny flashed a smile that she hoped would
soften the rough edge of his attitude. “That’s supposed to be my
line.”
“Nice try, Mom. But jokes aren’t cutting it.”
He sat up to face her. “What’s been going on with you lately?”
“Watch the tone of voice, Buster.”
“Maybe I’m entitled to a tone of voice.”
The little-boy hurt that was barely concealed
behind the bluster clutched at Jenny’s heart. If only she could
tell him. She knew he’d understand. Even support her. He had this
grand sense of justice, just like she did, and if she could let him
in on the secret they could tilt at windmills together. Although,
remembering that awful sense of evil she felt every time she met
with Chico and his minions, she wasn’t sure that was a windmill she
wanted Scott involved with.
“I know this has been hard. I’ll make it up
to you.”
“Fine. We make an appointment or what?”
He turned back to the TV, and Jenny stood for
a moment. The words had cut deep, and she was torn between a desire
to make things right with her son and the need to finish what she’d
started. Oh, hell. She dug her car keys out of her pocket.
“Alicia’s in her room studying. Y’all can
have ice-cream later.”
Keeping his attention on the TV, Scott waved
a hand in a brusque acknowledgement.
It almost broke her heart to walk out, but
she knew she had to. She could always hope that he’d just get over
it. Yeah. That’ll happen about the time I win the lottery.
A prickle of unease stayed with her as she
started her usual prowl, and later she would wonder if that had
something to do with what happened. Had she emitted some odor of
fear or weakness?
Everything was fine at first. Chico was at
his favorite spot by the old Laundromat and Leon was with him.
Business as usual. Maybe he’d even have an answer for her tonight.
But as Jenny drew close, she realized it wasn’t the same kid with
Chico. It wasn’t a kid at all. The feral eyes that studied her were
set deep in the face of a man a good ten years older than Leon.
That face had been ravaged by a sharp instrument that had left an
ugly rope of a scar down the length of one cheek and across the jaw
line.
Jenny swallowed a gulp of panic as the weight
of the man’s scrutiny washed over her. Who the hell is this guy and
why is he here?
Despite jeans and sweatshirt, attire that
Jenny had come to recognize as a dealer’s uniform, she knew the
older man was no lowly dealer. In addition to the menace that
seemed to ooze out of his pores, he carried an air of authority
that was probably the reason Chico was a little twitchy. He
couldn’t seem to find a resting place for his eyes and his greeting
was strained.
Another prickle of unease created dampness
between Jenny’s shoulder blades. “Who’s your new friend?” She tried
for nonchalant as she nodded toward the man.
“Just a guy.”
The other man was so still he could have been
a statue. Doesn’t he know you have to blink now and then to
lubricate your eyes?
Does that even matter now?
Jenny didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or
to run. But she finally decided she should take care of what she
came for, then get the hell out of Dodge.
“Doing business today, Chico?”
“Let’s see your money.”
The harsh tone sent another wave of fear
skittering down her spine. She swallowed hard and pasted on a
smile. “Hey, Man, it’s me, Connie. Why the attitude?”
Chico shot a quick glance at the other man,
then lifted his chin. “You got it or not?”
Jenny fished a couple of bills out of her
pocket. “I need two nickel bags.”
Rolling forward on the balls of his feet,
Chico snatched the money out of her hand, then kept right on
walking.
The action stunned her for a moment, and then
she whirled. “Hey! Where’s the stuff. You can’t do that.”
“But I did, didn’t I.” Chico waved the bills
over his shoulder. “Thanks for the tip.”
Jenny turned back and again came up against
the hard scrutiny of the mystery man. What the hell is this? Some
kind of test? For me or for Chico?
Frustration dared her to speak. “Don’t you
ever even move?”
A ghost of a smile touched his granite face.
Then he followed Chico down the street, moving so effortlessly his
feet seemed to glide along the pavement.
Taking a deep breath to slow her pounding
heart, Jenny wondered what the hell she was supposed to do now. Was
this some sort of bizarre end to the whole deal? Had they made her?
Was she out?
She didn’t like that thought. Nor did she
like feeling so powerless.
When she reported it to Steve later, he
masked any concern in assurances that she hadn’t done anything
wrong. Maybe it had been some kind of test for Chico. She should be
able to go back in a few days and everything would be fine.
Meanwhile, he’d check with Burroughs to see what was happening out
at the ranch.
After they hung up, Jenny tried to make
herself believe what Steve had said, but her gut wasn’t buying it.
She wasn’t so sure it was a test for Chico. It was a test for her,
and she was damned if she was going to fail.
~*~
Jenny pulled into a parking spot in the small
strip mall just off highway 380. The marquee boasted: 380 MALL –
PIZZA, GUNS, DONUTS. After doing an Internet search for gun shops,
she’d called this place because it was far enough away from Little
Oak that she felt safe going there. But the man she’d talked to
hadn’t sounded like he had the kind of wit that could come up with
this sign.
Then again, maybe no joke was intended. The
stores could simply have been listed with no thought of amusement.
Only people like her who were finding ways to avoid the next step
would waste their time wondering if one bought a pizza, shot it,
then ended up with a donut.
Stepping out of the car, Jenny locked the
doors and made her way to the end of the mall, where another sign
said: DAVE’S GUNSHOP. Last week’s late fall heat wave had mellowed
and a cool breeze tousled her hair. Out here, almost in farm
country, the breeze carried a rich odor of earth and animals. Beats
the hell out of car exhaust and the other wonderful smells of city
life.
Jenny walked into the store and coming from
the brightness outside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to
the dim interior of the shop. A bell over the door had tinkled when
she walked in, and she could hear the soft strains of a classical
tune coming from somewhere in the darker recesses of the store.
Another incongruity.
“Can I help you?”
The voice belonged to a man who stepped
through a doorway behind the counter. Now that she could see, Jenny
assumed the doorway led to a back room. She stepped closer and saw
that the man was in his late thirties. There was a cautiousness
about him that Jenny had come to recognize as a byproduct of
military service. Her cousin had looked like that when he’d come
back from Iraq.
Of course, the man’s close cropped hair and
Semper Fi tattoo on his forearm were pretty good clues that he’d
seen a tour or two. He was dressed in jeans and a black tee shirt
that boasted: Guns don’t kill people. Idiots with guns kill
people.
Jenny had to admit he had a point. “I called
earlier. About a gun,” she said.
“Sure. And you wanted this for...?
“Protection. I’m a single mother. We don’t
live in a great area.”
He seemed to consider her comments, and Jenny
wondered if she’d come across too anxious. She reminded herself to
take a breath and calm down.
“In that case, you want something with a bit
of stopping power.” He moved down the glass-topped counter and
unlocked a back panel. He pulled out a gun that was dull silver in
color. It didn’t look like any pistol Jenny had ever seen, but then
her experience was limited to cop shows and movies. Somehow being
this close gave it a whole new perspective; not one she was sure
she liked. What she was sure of was the desire not to be humiliated
by Chico again.
“This is a Glock Model 17L,” the man said.
“Not pretty to look at, but it shoots straight. It’s safe and
reliable.”
After a couple of quick actions that Jenny
couldn’t quite follow, but she assumed were meant to insure the gun
was not loaded, he held it out to her. “See how it feels.”
Jenny hesitated briefly and then took the
weapon. It was surprisingly light and the grip felt strange. It
wasn’t the cool feel of metal she’d been expecting.
“It’s made of a polymer,” the man said as if
she’d voiced some question aloud. “But the striations insure a good
grip, even if your hand sweats.”
And it certainly would. “Could you show me
how to use it?”
“Never sell a weapon without a test run.” He
took the gun, walked around the end of the counter, and motioned
her to follow. “Got a range out back.”
~*~
Later, driving back home, Jenny marveled at
how well she’d shot. Even the man, she’d finally determined he was
the owner, Dave, had been impressed, asking if she was sure she’d
never fired a weapon before. Her first few shots had been wild, but
after he showed her how to steady the gun by cradling one hand in
the other, she hadn’t missed the target. No bull’s eyes, but then,
with a weapon like that she wouldn’t need a perfect aim. At least
that’s what Dave had assured her.
The cost of the gun, ammunition, and a gun
safe put a serious dent in her savings. She’d left a two hundred
dollar deposit and would pay the rest when she picked everything up
after the five-day waiting period was over.
She still had to decide how to handle this
with the kids. Of course she would keep the gun in the safe high up
on a shelf in her closet, but should she tell them about it? They
wouldn’t buy her ‘single mother’ concerns since she’d already spent
six years as one without needing a gun. So what possible reason
could she give them now? Or would it be better to just keep it
hidden until this whole nightmare was over?
Jenny wasn’t comfortable with the idea of
another secret. Her whole relationship with the kids had been built
on honesty and trust. They didn’t hide things from each other,
certainly not the important things in their lives, but in this
case, she couldn’t see an alternative.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jenny watched Mitchell wrap the roses in
green tissue paper for the man who was splurging big time for his
anniversary. Three-dozen red roses. Oh, to be loved like that.
Jenny shook her head. Get real, girl. You were never destined to be
loved like that.