by Dale Mayer
She smiled at him knowingly, and he realized he’d already lost this battle.
“We might need to go to the cops as well.”
She lost her smile. “Why?”
“Your store. If it’s being used as a front for something much more sinister, you need to make sure they know that you didn’t have a hand in it and that you want this mess stopped.”
She glared at him. “I didn’t know anything about it.”
“Good. Keep up that outrage in your voice as it will help the police believe you.”
“No, it won’t,” she said. “They’ll think I had something to do with all of it, if for no other reason than I run a tattoo parlor.”
“Hey, where’s this coming from? It’s not like you’re doing anything illegal through the shop, so they have no reason to discriminate against you. You’ve had good dealings with the police since you’ve been open.”
“I know that, but it seems like the noose is tightening around me and I’ve done nothing,” she cried. “As if I’ve been set up.”
“And maybe you have been. But we don’t have to let them succeed.”
“And what am I to tell the police?”
“You tell them what you’ve told me,” he said in a soothing voice. “They don’t believe you’re guilty, but they need to know what you know. Tell them everything, including the fact that you believe you’re being framed, and trust that they will do their job.”
“Since when do you believe in the police so much?”
Morgan shrugged. “I’ve been on the other side way too much. I’ve seen the good and the bad when it comes to law enforcement, but I don’t have any reason to believe these ones are idiots. Shawn has been very forthcoming. I’m inclined to believe him.”
She sat back and stared at him. “So what, do you want to invite him for lunch, too?”
With a great shout of laughter, Morgan said, “No, not at all. I’m trying to get you to ease back your panic and trust them – him – a little more.”
“Right, well, just in case you’re wrong, don’t mind if there’s a little bit of panic snugged into a far corner ready to be pulled out if I need it.”
“Not required. But I’ll go and call Dean if you want me to?” She nodded. He got up and dialed Dean. There was no answer, so he left a message. “He’s not answering. He might still be with the police.”
“How long was the visit likely to be?”
“Not so long. I thought he’d be home by now.” He smiled at her. “Not to worry. We can take some time at the shop this afternoon if you want. Roxy was supposed to bring you some work, only she forgot. Instead, we could go there for a few hours. You’ll feel better and maybe you can pack up a few things to bring home to work on. Would that work?”
She smiled. “Yeah, that would be good.”
Chapter 11
The shop was doing a bustling business. As soon as she walked inside, there was a chorus of cries and well wishes. She grinned, feeling more at home than she had in a long time. “Hi everyone.”
She wandered the shop, just thankful to be there. She visited with old friends that were in getting work done, and they were all happy to see her.
It felt wonderful.
Morgan was next door checking out if there’d been anything else going on in the area lately. He’d sprung it on her on the drive over. She didn’t plan to stay here for long, but just being here felt so wonderful – so damn normal – it’s what she needed to do.
And he could do what he did. Worry.
She made her way to the back room where she puttered around putting things to rights. There would be inventory to do soon, and of course the bookkeeping as the second quarterly review was due, and so were the taxes. Business had been good lately. There was so much more she wanted to do here.
Including maybe teaching. She wanted to focus on doing more – giving more. Maybe do more volunteer work. Women who’d had a breast removed and were looking for a different answer. She’d done a wonderful project for a young man who’d lost his leg above his knee. He wanted to memorialize his loss while celebrating the fact that he was still alive.
She’d loved that job. It had so much meaning for both of them.
More jobs like that would be wonderful. She knew there were a lot of people who couldn’t afford tattoos, so maybe she needed to consider pro bono work for some of these people.
“Don’t you look happy with yourself today?” Roxy said, walking over to her desk, two full cups of coffee in her hands. She set them both down and pulled up a chair. “I’ve got a few minutes before the next client. So catch me up, how is the investigation going?”
Jazz glanced around, studied the few people in the shop, and filled her friend in on the latest. She added in a low tone, “Dean went to the police this morning and supposedly came clean.”
Roxy gasped. “Well, good for him.”
Jazz nodded. “Indeed. However, he is also telling the police that as far as he knew, the tattoo shop was being used to communicate with Borg.”
“What? Is that the intruder?” Roxy said, leaning closer, her face both horrified and confused. “And we’re not – are we?”
“Hell no, we’re not!” Jazz’s shocked whisper rang out. She immediately lowered her voice. “But what if we have someone who comes in on a regular basis and is using our place of business regardless?”
“But who?”
She looked so bewildered that Jazz wanted to give her a hug. “I don’t know. We need to consider everyone.”
“Not Perl,” Roxy said immediately. She shook her head. “No, that would be foolish.”
“Not if she thinks we’re never going to notice.”
“Maybe, but I don’t see it.”
Jazz didn’t either, but that wasn’t a businesslike way to go about this. “It could be a delivery person. It could be one of the regulars who come for coffee.”
“Wow, I hadn’t considered that.” She frowned. “We have a lot of people that don’t come every day but come every week or so, mostly just to say hi.”
“Exactly. And I’m not even sure what kind of signal is being given. Is it something simple as turning our Open sign to Closed at the window? Or placing an ad for the next damn festival or whatever the hell is next.”
“And we get a lot of people trying to post stuff like that on our windows all the time,” Roxy agreed.
“We do.” Jazz was torn about telling her about the adaptor they’d found. But she decided not to say anything until they knew what it was. It could be innocent.
“If someone is doing something so simple, then the police can’t blame us,” she said in relief. “I was afraid it was likely to be so much worse.”
“I think it would have to be so simple, otherwise we’d surely have noticed it. Right?”
“I would think so.” But she frowned. “If it were so simple, it would mean that the person intended to get the message would have to be close by, too.”
“Right.” Why hadn’t she considered that? Damn. Now she understood why Morgan had gone next door. Shit. He hadn’t told her what he was thinking, but now she had a very good idea. She was tempted to run over there and double check to see what the hell questions he was asking. And why there?
Roxy’s customer came in just then and after a round of greetings, Jazz grabbed her coffee and walked to the front of her store. She stepped out and looked around. There were a dozen different businesses here. From a cold beer and wine store to an insurance place, there was a little bit of everything in the tiny mall. There were a couple that stared right across from her.
That could see her store from their desks inside.
So they’d get the message without having to do any kind of work for it.
It was weird and unnerving to consider that someone in this mall might have been using her place as a blind. Still…she wandered down the strip to the left and peered into the windows as she strolled by, for all the world as if she was as carefree and unworried as could be.
> She wanted them all to realize she was back at work and unhurt.
In spite of everyone’s crap, the only real casualty here at the moment was Billy. Everyone else was going to recover from this. She walked the mall, her mind slipping from one subject to the next, but it always came back to Billy and his shenanigans. He’d loved women. All shapes and sizes. All colors and opinions. But he didn’t respect any of them. He’d had a liaison with the insurance lady. He’d been screwing one of the girls from the cold beer and wine store, too. How much did any of this have to do with his murder?
When she got to the end of the block, she remembered there was a gun shop around the corner. It was in the mall but not in sight. She’d seen the owner walk around like she was doing, a cigarette hanging from his fingers. He’d been friendly.
And something she needed to consider – the store owners might not know what was going on either.
Therefore, the cops should be able to track the employees of everyone at the mall and see what kind of connections they’d have made. And what type of history they had. If this was drugs…and she hoped not…who here had a history of drugs? Or what if this was solely about stealing money? In which case, there was no need to contact a third party at all as the thief would have kept the damn money for himself. He’d never need to share it.
She froze.
That’s exactly what Billy had done.
So why kill him – but for the fact that he’d screwed someone over? Only it was Borg’s money.
And Dean had been Billy’s partner.
Dean was the one who’d been screwed.
She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. She felt like she was close. So damn close.
But there was something else in there. Something else going on.
What if Dean had been a partner but Billy had another one? One that wasn’t getting any money and figured there wasn’t any money to get until they’d found out about Dean and the money he was supposed to get?
She couldn’t imagine the reaction would be good. Billy didn’t seem to know the difference between friend and foe, choosing instead to turn the one into the other. All the damn time.
Look at her. She’d have been a good friend to Billy except for all the number of times he’d screwed with her.
She wasn’t into head games. That’s why Billy and Perl had gotten along. Perl was simple. She’d never really believed that Billy was anything but someone special.
She believed in people. She believed in Billy. But she’d also understood his basic nature and had known they didn’t have a future together. Although, she might have said she knew that but had hoped for something different.
Yet Billy had been Billy and would have kept her on the hook.
For the first time, Jazz had to wonder what happened when the fish actually understood what was happening. Did the hook hold, did it snap, or did the fish turn on the fisherman?
And that analogy could be applied to dozens of women that Billy kept on the line. Most times they knew the score and didn’t care. Others…maybe not so understanding.
So many women wanted the bad boy believing they could tame them.
So not happening. She’d seen it firsthand. There was no taming Morgan. And truthfully…she didn’t want to kill that darkness. That wildness was a part of him.
It lent an air of excitement to the relationship. Wildness was his way of looking at the world, looking at this journey called life and needing to escape every once in a while. There were a lot of things she’d have no trouble with him doing – as long as she knew he was coming back.
She couldn’t stand to have him disappear again.
“Thoughts?”
Morgan stood beside her, his gaze steady and strong.
“Are you planning on leaving again?” She gulped as soon as the words left her lips. She hadn’t meant to let them out. He’d say of course not and would now understand how worried she was. Only she wasn’t. Not really. It was a low-level fear that when she was feeling blue had the ability to pop up and knock her sideways.
He reached out and tugged her chin towards him. “No. I’m not leaving.”
She bit her lip but nodded. As she’d thought. That was the problem. Of course he wasn’t leaving – until it came time for him to leave. Then he would no matter what he was saying now.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he said, releasing her chin, his voice churning with frustration.
“I do…until I don’t.” How could she explain that fear? That having happened once…the possibility of a repeat always existed.
“I couldn’t,” he said quietly. “It’s not in me to leave you again.”
She gazed up at him. “I believe that you believe that, but the doubts still plague me. Not all the time, just sometimes.”
He tugged her into his arms. “If there was one thing I could reverse, it would be that insecurity in you. I brought it into being by leaving. And now every time I see it, I want to crush something. I can tell you over and over again, but nothing is ever going to make you believe me.”
“Maybe I just need time,” she said, her head against his heart. “You haven’t been back long enough to feel comfortable with this. To believe it’s real and pure. I keep expecting to wake up and realize that you’ve been a figment of my imagination, a dream. And that I’ll roll over and you’ll be gone again.”
“Not going to happen.”
*
How could he make her realize that he was here to stay? There were no words to convince her – he’d tried them all. It had to be actions. And as she said, time. Maybe after they’d had years together, they could look at each other and know that they’d moved past this point. But she was right, he hadn’t been back in her life for very long. Not long enough for either of them to have gained a level of confidence in each other. He’d always worry that she’d never trust him. Or decide she didn’t need him after all.
And she’d always worry that one day she’d wake up and he’d be gone.
God, what had he done to this strong woman? He’d never intended on making her insecure, afraid of the future. Afraid of him. Because that’s what this was all about. She was afraid of him. Of what he’d do. And how that would affect her.
He knew she loved him.
He loved her the same way.
It made them vulnerable. And at the other’s mercy because either of them walking away would bring the other to their knees. That’s what he hadn’t seen last time. He hadn’t seen how strongly affected they’d both been. He hadn’t wanted to see it. It would have shown what an asshole he was and worse, how much of a bastard his brother was.
But more than that, it would have shown him that he loved his brother more than Jazz.
And that’s what had hurt her.
“I loved Billy, you know.” He gently rubbed her back. “More than anything in this world. Of course you know that. Because it’s the only way he could have gotten me to leave you. But it was a different love. It was one of time and endurance and understanding that even though he was weak and got into more trouble than anyone deserved, he was blood.” His voice dropped away for a long moment.
Then he continued. “You, on the other hand, are something so very different and rare. Unique, and something I hadn’t come across. I didn’t know how to deal with it. Was at the point of needing to do something more. I was hoping to have you move in with me…” He felt her startled movement in his arms. “I told Billy. But I was insecure about it. I hadn’t ever lived with a woman before. It was a step toward commitment, something I wasn’t ready to do – or wanted to be ready to do. I was honestly so damn scared you’d say no. See, we were dynamite in bed, but I knew that I wasn’t good partner material. I was good with my hands and could fix damn near anything that was broken. But I’d never be the man that held down a regular nine to five job or wear a suit and head off on the bus every day.”
She tried to pull back so she could look up at him. He released her just enough.
�
��It was that insecurity that allowed Billy to drive that wedge inside my heart. Not that I didn’t love you. But that I wasn’t good for you. Good enough for you. That you could do so much better with another man. Billy himself no less.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Any man actually. By the time I drove away, I knew only one thing. I was bad news and you needed…deserved…so much better.”
Chapter 12
Later that evening, after dinner was over, the two of them went to sit down on the living room couch. “So a movie?” Morgan asked her.
His hand was gently stroking her long legs. She was stretched out on the couch, her legs across his lap.
“Maybe.”
He considered the options. “Or we could do some more figuring out what the hell is going on.” He sent her a sharp glance. “Aren’t you ready for a break yet?”
“I am. But I realized while we were at the shop today that maybe we’re on the wrong track.”
He shifted and looked over at her. “How so?”
“Billy had a lot more relationships in his life. I wonder if one of them had done this to him.” She glanced at him. “If we take out Borg and we don’t have Dean in the picture, what’s left is a lot of messy relationships.”
“Do you know of any names?”
“Only Perl.”
“And knowing her as you do, can you see her killing him?”
She shook her head. “No way, but…” She frowned, thinking. “Maybe she knows someone else who is involved with Billy. Or was involved with Billy?”
He nodded. “Did you ask her about it?”
She shook her head. “No. She was pretty upset.”
“The problem is Billy had a lot of relationships. She knew about them. So it’s not like he was changing or doing anything she wasn’t aware of.”
She frowned. “True. So no reason to be upset, you mean.”
“Right. She’d been living with and was apparently quite happy with the status quo. For a long time. There’s no reason to think she’d suddenly become upset over it.” She tried to let the information about Perl slide to the forefront of her brain. Right, she also had other men. So no, she wouldn’t have done something to Billy like that. Instantly, she felt better. It was hard to imagine anyone shooting Billy about a relationship issue if they were both seeing other people. “I guess I was grasping at straws.”