ONE SMALL VICTORY (14 page)

Jenny almost laughed at how close to right
that question was. But it also gave her an easy out. If she said
yes there was no reason for Carol to suspect the business had
nothing to do with flowers. “Something like that.”

“So why not go the legitimate route?”

“I’m afraid Ralph might find out during the
background check.” This response was easy. Jenny had anticipated
the question when she’d first thought of asking Carol and had
rehearsed an explanation that she could give without a flinch of
conscience.

Carol dawdled so long over stirring the sugar
into her tea, Jenny was afraid her friend was stalling to find some
way to say no. Should she argue her case? Beg?

No. In all the years of their friendship,
groveling had never appealed to Carol.

Jenny reminded her body to breath while she
waited for Carol to respond. When her friend finally looked up, her
expression reflected some kind of inner turmoil. “I need to know
something, Jen.”

“What?”

“What the hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

Carol slapped the table hard enough that the
teacups clattered and tea sloshed. “Don’t keep lying to me. You
can’t know how much that hurts.”

Jenny did a mental scramble to try to come up
with something reasonable to say.

“And don’t try the ‘I’m just trying to adjust
to Michael’s death’ line either,” Carol said. “It didn’t work
before. And I’m less inclined to buy it now.”

Jenny leaned forward in her chair. “Could you
please just trust me about this?”

Carol started to say something, but Jenny
halted her with a raised hand. “Let me have my say. Then you can
decide.”

Carol nodded.

“Okay. I can’t tell you what’s been going on.
I’m sworn to secrecy. But it’s nothing bad, or illegal. And if you
loan me the gun, I promise I’m not going to shoot anybody.”

“If you don’t plan to use it, why do you want
it?”

That wasn’t a question Jenny had anticipated.
She bit her lip, searching for the right response that would
appease her friend. “We’re the only ones who have to know I won’t
use it.”

Carol wiped at the spilled tea with a paper
napkin, appearing to consider Jenny’s words while she made small
circles on the table. Then she looked at Jenny. “You’re not messing
with those drug people? Trying to get revenge for Michael?”

Another question Jenny wasn’t expecting. Her
friend knew her all too well. She took a breath. “No. It’s not
about revenge.”

At least she could be honest about that.
She’d spent many an hour mentally asking the same question, wanting
to make sure she kept the line between justice and revenge clear.
Vindication might be part of it. It seemed to go along with
justice. But revenge was not even in the same family.

Carol sighed and wadded up the napkin. “Don’t
you ever ask for another favor for the rest of your life.”

“Does that mean yes?”

“Come on.”

Jenny followed her friend into a spacious
bedroom that in addition to the normal trappings, held a huge, teak
roll-top desk. Every time she was here, Jenny felt a twinge of
jealousy. This room had to be twice the size of her bedroom. And
the adjoining bathroom was big enough to throw a party in.

But it was an awful lot of space to live in
alone.

As Carol rummaged in the middle desk drawer
for a key, then unlocked one of the side drawers, Jenny cast a
quick glance around to see any signs of masculine visitation. Carol
had said they were taking it slow, but certainly George spent a
night or two here.

Then Jenny chuckled softly at the
ridiculousness of what she was doing. What did she expect to find?
A pair of boxer shorts kicked into a corner? Even if George was so
compelled, Miss Carol-the neat-freak wouldn’t let them stay there
for a second past climax.

Okay. That wasn’t fair. But they certainly
wouldn’t be there the next day.

“This is not funny,” Carol said, turning with
a locked wooden box in her hands.

Jenny didn’t even realize her thoughts had
given rise to a smile. “I know. Sorry. Mind wandering.” She made a
vague gesture, hoping her friend wouldn’t ask where her mind had
wandered to.

Carol gave her a long look, then set the box
on the top of the desk and unlocked it. “I sold most of Barry’s
collection after he died. Didn’t see any need for it since I’d
never go back to the range without him. But I kept a few pieces
that I especially liked.”

She lifted out a medium-sized, silver gun
with an inlaid grip. It was a beautiful gun, although Jenny had
some trouble putting those two words together. She’d always hated
guns, but she knew that stemmed from fear. Her experience at the
gun shop had eased some of that trepidation.

“May I?” Jenny held out her hand, and Carol
set the weapon in it. “Is it loaded?”

“No. I didn’t keep the guns for protection.
Just for sentimentality. You’ll have to get ammunition.”

That was a kicker. Jenny had no clue how or
where to buy bullets. She certainly couldn’t go back to Dave’s.
When Steve had picked up her deposit and returned it to her, he’d
made it clear that she was not to go back to the gun shop. And she
didn’t even know whether she could buy ammunition without risking
another background check.

“You can go to any big Wal-Mart,” Carol said
as if she knew exactly what Jenny was thinking. “Just tell the
clerk in sporting goods what kind of gun it is and he’ll give you
the right bullets.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to tell me what
this is.” Jenny hefted the weapon.

“It’s a Colt 45 Automatic.” Carol reached
into the box and pulled out another gun. “And I have this little
guy. He’s a Walther.”

Jenny eyed the small gun and wondered if it
could come in handy sometime. “Could I borrow both?”

“Oh, my God.” Carol slumped against the desk.
“You really are doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Going after the drug dealers.”

Jenny started to protest, but Carol cut her
off with a wave of her hand. “You could maybe fool someone else.
But not me. Tell me I’m wrong. I’d love to be wrong.”

A host of possibilities swam through her mind
as she struggled to hold Carol’s gaze. She could tell her friend
the truth and swear her to secrecy. But if that didn’t work. If
Carol told someone else... No. All Steve needed was one more
infraction to have an excuse to cut her out of the picture.

“Please, Carol.” She touched her lightly on
the arm. “Not another word. Not if our friendship means anything to
you.”

Carol pulled back. “Don’t put me on the spot
like that.”

“Don’t put
me
on the spot.”

Jenny could feel the tension in her friend as
she struggled to come to some decision. God, she hated to do this.
And she wouldn’t blame Carol one bit if she refused. But she needed
that gun.

“Please.”

Carol didn’t respond, and Jenny felt her
heart beat almost in perfect rhythm with the loud ticks from the
antique clock on Carol’s desk. Then a loud chime broke the intense
silence, startling them both out of the visual standoff. When the
final gong marking the time eddied through the room, Carol handed
Jenny the other gun. “Promise you aren’t going to do anything
stupid or dangerous with this.”

“I promise.”

Later, in the privacy of her car, Jenny had
to laugh at the brazenness of that promise. That was the worst lie
she’d ever told her friend. What she had in mind was both stupid
and dangerous.

~*~

The clerk at Wal-Mart didn’t even blink when
Jenny asked for the ammunition, and the cashier rang it up along
with the few groceries like it was nothing out of the ordinary. But
she still didn’t feel comfortable until she got home and locked the
guns in the security box she’d bought along with the ammunition.
She stashed the box in her closet, putting it behind a stack of
afghans her grandmother had knitted. She fingered the soft wool and
had to laugh. What would Grandma think?

~*~

For two nights Jenny stayed home. She tried
to tell herself she was doing it for the kids. And perhaps that was
part of it. But she knew she was primarily driven by fear. The
thought of confronting Chico made her legs weak, but she couldn’t
put it off much longer.

After telling Alicia and Scott that she was
going to take a shower, Jenny went to her room and locked the door.
Then she pulled the box with the guns from the hiding place in the
closet.

She set the box on her bed, unlocked it and
took the weapons out. She set the smaller gun on the floral
bedspread and tucked the Colt in the waistband of her pants; just
like she’d seen cops do on TV. The hard press of the barrel against
her back was uncomfortable, so she reached back to try to adjust
it. The reach, the grasp, everything felt awkward. Hell, if I was
ever going to use this, I’d shoot my ass off.

Then she remembered something the gun shop
owner had said during her one and only lesson. “Most people buy a
gun without fully realizing that if they have it, they’ll probably
have to use it.”

Pulling the weapon free, Jenny ran her
fingers along the smooth surface of the barrel. Could she? Would
she?

Still holding the gun, she sat on the edge of
her bed and let her mind play with a few scenarios. Someone breaks
into the house. He’s going after the kids. A no brainer. I’d shoot
him dead.

Okay, what about out there? Away from home
and away from the kids? If someone threatened her, could she make
that split second decision to take him out first? She truly hoped
she never had to make that choice. But she also knew the real
possibility of that happening. She wasn’t just playing around with
some two-bit pusher. Chico had made that clear the night he ripped
her off.

Wouldn’t do to let them think they’d scared
her.

Jenny stood up and slid the gun back into the
waistband of her jeans. This time she put it midway between her
spine and her side. She put her jacket on, then practiced reaching
for the gun a few times. She got a little quicker with each
attempt. Turning into a regular little gunslinger now, aren’t
you.

After putting the smaller gun back in the
security box, Jenny returned the box to the top shelf of her
closet. She piled the afghans back in their place, mentally
apologizing to her grandmother. Then she turned to look at her
reflection in the mirror above her dresser. Just do it, girl.

~*~

Tonight, Jenny found Chico and Leon at the
Dairy Queen parking lot.

“Hey, look who’s back.” Chico leaned out the
open window of his Kia and gave Jenny a smile that hung false on
his smooth face. “Thought you wouldn’t come back.”

“Why’d you think that?”

The challenge dangled there for a moment
while Leon glanced at Chico as if looking for direction on how to
respond. The other man kept his gaze on Jenny.

Sweat beaded on her spine as she approached
the window, but she fought to keep her expression neutral. She
leaned one elbow on the side mirror, bending forward so Chico could
get an ample view of the gap in her tank top. When she saw his eyes
move downward, she slid her other hand under the flap of her jacket
and pulled out the gun. Before he realized what she was doing, she
had the barrel under his chin.

Jenny’s smile became real when she saw the
glint of fear flash in Chico’s eyes. In her peripheral vision, she
saw Leon lunge from his position at the rear of the car. “Do it and
I’ll blow his fucking head off.”

The man froze.

“Good boy.” She kept her gaze on Chico. “Now
here’s the deal. You give me the stuff I paid for last week, and I
don’t pull this trigger.”

A sheen of sweat emerged on his face, but
despite that obvious sign of fear, he stretched the silence until
it almost screamed. Jenny fought to keep her hand and her eyes
steady as she tried to formulate another threat to forestall the
moment when she might have to consider pulling the trigger.

Then Chico called to Leon. “Do what she
says.”

“We don’t bend to no she-rah.”

Leon’s defiant stance prompted another surge
of panic. Jenny swallowed hard, willing him in her mind.
Don’t
pull the tough-guy routine now. Do what he says.

“I said give her the stuff.”

“And hand it to me real nice,” Jenny said,
relief fueling her confidence. “Don’t want any accidents here.”

Leon took a step forward, holding a bag out
to her. She took it with her free hand and slipped it into her
jacket pocket. Then she pushed the gun harder into Chico’s chin.
“And I got another tip for you. Don’t. You. Ever. Fucking. Do.
That. Again.”

After giving him a moment to absorb the
threat, she stepped back and touched her forehead with the gun
barrel as if saluting the men. “Nice doing business with you.”

Walking away, she heard Leon ask, “You want I
should go after her. Get our goods back?”

“Leave it,” Chico said. “That took
balls.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Dark clouds rolled across the sky and Jenny
hoped the rain would hold off until she made it to her mother’s
house. Nothing was worse than a drenching on a cold November
day.

When Mitchell had offered to stay until
closing and encouraged her to leave, she’d thought about going home
and making a pot of chili. That might improve things with Scott
just a tad. But the many phone calls from her mother that she
hadn’t returned in the past few weeks tore at her conscience. Her
mother wasn’t a big proponent of emotional blackmail but wasn’t
above using it when desperate. Her last message had reeked of
desperation.

Pulling her car into the driveway that led to
the sprawling ranch house of her childhood, Jenny stilled the
engine and let a little bit of peace wash over her. After last
night, she desperately needed peace.

This comfortable old house had always been
her sanctuary from the horrors of the outside world. Of course, as
a child, she’d never imagined horrors like she’d been experiencing
in recent history. But the eight-year-old who had lost her first
pet had no point of reference beyond the immediate pain. Neither
had the twelve-year-old who had been betrayed by her best
friend.