Paint It Black (20 page)

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Authors: Michelle Perry

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Fiction

BOOK: Paint It Black
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Okay, thirty-three years
, I thought.
Not bad, since Angel is a federal agent. He’d serve less than half that with good behavior

I broke off, horrified by my train of thought. What was I doing, thinking about it from Barnes’s point of view? Angel was my friend—one of my best friends. He was doing better, but he might never be the same as he was before. What were sixteen or seventeen years in the face of that? Nothing. Not a damn thing when you were twenty-eight years old and unable to feed yourself.

My stomach churned, and I thought I was going to be sick right there, but somehow I managed to make it out of the courtroom with the rest of my team, pretending that nothing was wrong. In the hallway, I grabbed Ubi’s arm. Thankfully, Bill was talking to someone.

“Hey, there’s someone I need to speak with,” I said. “Tell Bill I’ll catch him back at the office.”

“Okay, but we’ll probably all head to see Angel first, tell him the good news.”

“I’ll find you.”

I wove through the crowd and barely made it to the restroom in time. Holding my hair back with one hand, I threw up until I could do nothing but heave. My legs trembled, and I wiped tears from the corner of my eyes.

When I opened the door, I found Maria waiting for me.

“What’s the matter,
mi hermana?”
she said. “Feeling guilty for what you’ve done, or the aftereffects from Grady kicking the crap out of you?”

“Leave me alone,” I said, stumbling toward the sink. I splashed my face with water and cupped my hands to catch enough to rinse out my mouth.

“I’ll never leave you alone again. Daddy won’t be able to protect you now. You think my taking Grady was bad, wait until I take everything.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped. “Grady and I were over long before you came along. And I don’t need his protection. I’m not afraid of you.” But instantly I thought of Abby and wondered how far Maria would go to hurt me.

“You’d better be afraid. I can get to you anywhere, anytime. You remember that.”

She leaned against the sink. I stared at her hands, at the long red nails that tapped against the white porcelain.

“How did you do it?” she asked, when I didn’t respond. “How did you talk him into throwing his life away?”

“He did that a long time ago.”

“You mean when he left your mother for mine.”

I stared up at her. “I don’t get why you think this is a competition. I’m not trying to come between you two. In fact, I want nothing to do with either of you. As far as I’m concerned, he’s yours.”

The pain that flickered across her face caught me off guard. “No,” she said quietly. “He isn’t.”

She turned and walked out.

I washed my face again, wondering what I should do next. I meant what I said to Maria, but I felt like I owed Barnes at least a visit, even though I was scared to death someone would recognize me and ask what I was doing there. I could wait on him to call again, but that felt cowardly. Besides, by rights, the next move was mine.

I took an elevator to the ground floor where he was being held before transfer to the penitentiary. His lawyer waited for me outside the double doors. She smiled and offered her hand. Warily, I shook it.

“I’m glad you came,” she said. “I was about to give up on you.”

“What is this?” I asked tiredly. “What does he want from me?”

“Just to talk.”

She headed toward the doors and I followed.

“You carrying?” she asked, and I shook my head.

“Not in court.”

“Your father doesn’t want to complicate things for you, so follow my lead.”

She strode up to the front desk and addressed a young officer I didn’t recognize. “I’m Frank Barnes’s legal counsel, and this is my assistant. We’d like a word with him before the transfer.”

He shot me a curious look, probably wondering how roadkill had passed the bar. But then he slid a clipboard to her and told her to sign us in. She scrawled Tanya Davis and the name Anita Bennett under it. I hesitated, figuring they’d probably want a copy of our licenses, but she grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the metal detectors.

This was wrong to the
nth
degree, but I didn’t know what else to do. Momentarily, I found myself inside a small windowless room I’d never been in before.

“This is a secure room,” she said. “They can’t record lawyer-client conversations.”

We sat at a small, chipped table, and a deputy led Barnes inside. He looked as tired as I felt, but he managed a smile. I couldn’t return it.

“You have ten minutes,” the deputy said. “His ride will be here soon.”

When he exited, Tanya reached for her briefcase. “Sorry,” she said. “I can’t leave, since I’m primary counsel and that would look funny, but I’ll try to give you what privacy I can.”

She pulled a set of headphones out of her briefcase and clamped them over her ears. She touched a button on the side, and 3 Doors Down blared so loud I could
identify the song.

She extracted a notebook and walked over to the corner, where she braced the paper against the wall and stood scribbling.

Barnes and I stared at each other across the table. I didn’t know what to say.

He smiled. “Now I know how Darth Vader felt.”

That surprised a laugh out of me. Some of the tension that held me rigid released. “That was pretty funny. I’ll give you props for that.”

“I don’t know what props are, but I’ll take them,” he said with a wink. He leaned back in the chair and studied me. “So, have I earned the right to hear what happened to you? Will you tell me who—or what—hurt you?”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Okay, sure. My husband did it. My soon-to-be ex-husband. I served papers on him.”

Barnes’s smile vanished. He scowled and thumped his fist on the table. “Huh, easier widowed than divorced. One call, and I can make sure he never touches you—”

I jumped up and waved my hands. “Now, see, this is why we can’t talk! Can you hear yourself? You’re about to go to prison for attempted murder, and you’re talking about arranging a hit. What is wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect your family,” he said, looking hurt.

“Yes, there is, when you’re talking about murder.” I
shook my head. “I don’t know who’s crazier, you or me, for thinking we could actually
communicate
—”

“Okay, okay. Just sit back down. I’ll behave.” When I didn’t smile, he said, “I’ll tell you what. We’ll play this game I used to play with Maria when she was little and I wanted her to tell me what she’d done in school that day. You get a question, then I do.”

That made me cringe, because I had no memories of playing games with my father, but I took a deep breath and sat back down. “Why did you plead guilty?”

“It was the only way I could show you I was serious. Besides, I did it. My turn.”

I motioned for him to go ahead.

“Are you in danger from your husband? Don’t look at me like that. I won’t harm him if you don’t want me to, but I can provide security for you and my granddaughter.”

“Not necessary. Grady won’t bother me again. I’m probably in more danger from Maria that I am anyone else.”

Barnes’s eyes narrowed. “Maria? Has she threatened you?”

I laughed. “Only every time we speak.”

Barnes waved his hand dismissively, though his expression was grave. “She’s all talk, a petulant child. She knows better than to hurt you.”

“She told me today that you couldn’t protect me anymore,” I said, feeling vaguely like a tattletale. “I’m only
telling you because … I’m worried about my daughter, and I don’t want this to go any farther.”

“I’ll take care of it. I don’t want either of you hurt any further because of me.” He cleared his throat. “I know it’s your turn to ask a question, but how is that boy, the agent I shot?”

I stiffened at the reminder of what this was and who I was talking to. “Do you care?”

“I care because you care.”

“He’s doing better.”

“Does he have brain damage?”

I gritted my teeth, feeling like a traitor. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about him with you.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

“Why did you leave us?” I blurted, and was disgusted by how hurt it sounded.

Barnes winced. “I got involved with the wrong people. It was my own fault. I’m not trying to shift blame. Your mother and I grew up in the same neighborhood. Both of our families were dirt-poor. When I went to work for Salvador, I got a taste of the good life and I liked it. I never dreamed it would cost me my family, my baby girl. All the money in the world wasn’t worth that.”

“You left us for another woman.”

Barnes sighed. “No, not really. I met Maria’s mother at one of Salvador’s parties. I’d had too much to drink.” He blinked and stared at the table. “I was unfaithful. The
next day, I confessed to Gail and begged her to forgive me. She was hurt, but she agreed to try to work it out if I quit Salvador and promised never to see Ana again. But things were never really the same between us. The resentment grew every day. Then one day Ana showed up on our doorstep, pregnant and demanding support. Gail was so enraged she threw my clothes in the yard and told me to take my whore and go. She refused to let me see you, though there were times when her mother would sneak you out to visit, before Gail found out about it and put an end to it. But I never stopped loving you. I never stopped taking care of you.”

I leaned back in my chair, incredulous and angry. “Taking care of me? The day I arrested you was only the second time I remember us being face-to-face.”

Barnes gave me a sad smile. “There are other ways of taking care of people. By the time you were of age, your mother had poisoned your mind against me. You told me to leave, so I left, but I couldn’t step out of your life completely. You wouldn’t take my money for school, so I arranged for a nice scholarship to fall into your lap. I didn’t like the neighborhood you lived in, so I had a professor give you a lead on an apartment in a better place. I’m sure you wondered why the rent was so cheap. It was because I was paying half. I even had people pad your tip jar sometimes, until I figured out your boss was stealing most of it. He and I had a little talk about that, too.”

I stared at him, awash in surprise and fury. It took me a moment to find my tongue.

“Y-you … I can’t believe … I never would’ve accepted your money, and I resent you trying to control me like that.”

“It wasn’t about control. It was about taking care of my daughter. I’m only telling you now because I want you to know I never forgot you. I was there for you, in the only way I knew how.”

I paced in front of the table, too upset to process this. “I suppose you think I owe you now?”

He frowned. “No, it is I who owes you, more than I can ever repay.”

The guard rapped on the door and opened it. He shot me a curious look. “Time’s up, ladies.”

Tanya pulled off her headphones and put them back in the briefcase.

“Will you come again?” Barnes asked softly.

I glanced at him and gave him the most honest answer I could. “I don’t know.”

He nodded, and I walked out the door.

Tanya caught me as I stepped inside the elevator. Before I realized what she was doing, she pressed something in my hand. “He gave me that today. He wants you to have it.”

She pulled back and left me staring at the object in my palm. My breath caught at the little black-and-white
photo of a much younger Barnes smiling and holding a three-year-old on his lap.

Me.

I didn’t realize I was crying until the first tear splattered on the photo.

At the office, the party was in full swing. Most people weren’t even pretending to work. A portable CD player belted “I Saw Mama Kissing Santa Claus” while my co-workers scurried around, rearranging tables and carrying in steaming pizza boxes.

Ubi had an elf hat pulled over his massive head. “Hey, Necie! Looks like Christmas came a couple of weeks early, huh?”

“Yeah.” I faked a smile. “I figured you guys would be with Angel now.”

“He’s in physical therapy. They kicked us out, so we thought we’d come back here for awhile and visit again tonight.” He eyed another armful of pizzas coming through the door. “Hope you’re hungry.”

I wondered who’d sprung for it all, and that made me think of Barnes and how he’d paid my way through college when I thought I was earning it myself. I felt like I was going to be sick again.

I excused myself and headed toward the restroom. I hadn’t seen Cougar yet and wondered how his meeting with Massey had gone.

When I caught a glimpse of my pale, battered
reflection in the mirror, all I could do was groan. After giving myself a moment to make sure I wasn’t going to heave, I ripped a couple of paper towels out of the dispenser and scrubbed my face.

I was so jumpy that when the door swung open, I half-expected to find Maria standing there. Instead, Andrea Jacobs walked in. Her cheerful expression faded when she saw me.

“Geez, Denise. Are you okay?”

Clutching the edge of the sink, I replied, “I’d have to get better to die.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Got any gum? I’ve got an awful taste in my mouth.”

She rummaged through her purse and came up with a little silver canister. Grinning, she tossed it to me. “No gum, but here’s this. It’s either breath spray or Mace. I’d say either one of them will knock the taste out of your mouth.”

“Ha, ha,” I said, and helped myself to a shot of peppermint so strong it made my eyes water. Coughing, I handed it back to her. “I still don’t know which one it was, but thanks.”

She edged closer to me. “You know, I’m glad we have a chance to talk …” She nudged a stall door with her shoe and peered inside. “… alone. I know we don’t really know each other that well, but I’m going to tell you this anyhow. What I’m about to say is probably none of
my business, but—”

Uh-oh
. When anyone began a statement with the phrase
it’s probably none of my business, but
—it usually wasn’t.

“I want to talk to you about Jason.”

My guard went up. I knew she was Kim’s best friend. “What about him?”

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