Simone's Midnight Call (Mississippi Series Book 2)

by Brooke Miller

  Sim was quiet, not answering under the pretense of taking a sip of her drink. She wiped her mouth before speaking, “Not much to tell. I dated someone when I first enlisted. It ended badly and put me off from dating after that.” She stood, gathering the plates from the table and walked into the kitchen. Jesse heard her rinse and put them in the dishwasher. As soon as he asked her, he knew that was a mistake.

  Her flippant answer also told him the break-up was worse than a mundane, ‘ended badly.' This also said to him, at the end of the case getting her to stay would be the easy part. Getting her to see and realized he wanted her for more than just a fling, would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  ***

  Sim was at the kitchen sink, filling a vase with water as she made a realization. She looked over at the lone pink tulip on the counter as she realized this. She was in trouble where Jesse Fletcher was concerned. After that night of break-up talk, he upped his game again. He started sending her flowers. Sometimes, a bouquet to be set out on the kitchen table. Other times, a single flower, but never roses. That surprised her since very few people knew she hated roses.

  They brought up too many bad memories.

  The first time he sent her gardenias, she had nearly been in tears as their scent brought her back to happy childhood memories of working in the garden with her mother back in New Orleans.

  Then the treats.

  Despite her growing up in praline country, she hated pecans. Jesse sent her any treat that wasn’t; and turned out to make the best cashew brittle she’d ever tasted. Any chocolates he gave or sent her, were variations of dark chocolate, her favorite, not milk or white like so many people preferred. Somehow, he even found out about her kiwi allergy, making a point to bring her fresh mangos or strawberries from their supplier.

  All of which, the gestures were sweet and let her know his interest was still strong.

  But it was the effort and care that had her softening towards him; that he took the time to find out her likes and dislikes. Sim knew it would be so easy to love Jesse when he was showing her how much he cared for her. Yep, she was very much in trouble where Jesse was concerned.

  ***

  The car was taking the turn far too sharply on the wet road. Jane could see the driver had a look of fear on her face. A large truck was coming up fast behind her; it too was going too fast on a wet road.

  Ram!

  A metallic screech filled the night air as the truck rammed the car. She saw the driver’s head jerk forward from the force of the impact but kept the car on the road. The second time, she couldn’t, and the car went into a tailspin, the car started to hydroplane before it spun and went airborne. It tumbled along the road off into a ditch several yards away and stopped. Jane found she could move again and sprinted to the now on-fire car. She laid down to call out to the driver, only to freeze in horror at her first good look at the driver.

  Pale blonde hair and sightless blue eyes stared back at her. It was Alex. As she scrambled back from the rapidly-engulfed car, she saw the truck and the driver standing half out of the driver door. The fire lit up the night and gave his features a macabre twist, a sinister look of satisfaction on his face...

  Jane shot awake, panting and in a cold sweat. She looked around the room, disoriented. Taking in the empty spot in the bed beside her, it clicked then.

  Pete was on the night shift tonight, and one look at the alarm clock said she wouldn’t be going back to sleep. With a grunt, she threw the covers back and got up.

  She found herself downstairs fifteen minutes later after a quick shower and change. As she brewed a cup of herbal tea, she heard the soft click of Blue’s paws on the stairs.

  Sure enough, like every night she’d woken and couldn’t get back to sleep, he had come down to the kitchen. She cuddled the dog while her tea steeped; he gave her a look with his big blue eyes, before wiggling to be set down. She poured herself a cup, holding it between both hands as she let Blue out the back door to do his business.

  She looked into the depths of her mug, thinking about the dream she’d had or rather a nightmare. She’d been having them for a while, especially on the nights Peter wasn’t sleeping beside her. While she had not been there the night of Alex’s crash, she had seen the car she had been driving. Jane had been on her knees and in tears when she saw the state of it.

  It had been a wonder Alex had initially survived the crash. She stood and took out the carefully hidden mail she had placed in here in the kitchen. Each piece of mail in her hand had been dusted for fingerprints and documented with her Captain. The letters had started up again after she took up Gina’s case again. When she came back from leave, the reports she had been waiting on from the other counties had arrived. The information she found there had led her to continue her investigation.

  She sipped her tea as she looked back over the letters. Each letter told of a more and more gruesome death predicted for her if she didn’t drop Gina’s case, including the one that implied Alex’s car accident had been intentional and it had been meant for her. If someone were to look at her at that moment, the look in her eyes would have had many a strong man quaking. Fury was pumping through her as she read back over the latest one; the one about Alex’s crash. This bastard had killed Alex.

  The letter began to crumble in her hands, her gaze staring into the wood table.

  Her sister.

  He fucking killed her little sister. Jane knew she would pull out all stops to solve this case now more than ever. Whether this person lived to see the trial was debatable, though. She sipped her tea as she looked out into her back yard, the sun starting to rise. After all, accidents happened all the time when someone was in lock-up.

  ***

  Simone was checking her e-mails as she finished her coffee. The threatening calls and notes had tampered off, but she knew it was temporary. The detective had eventually called her back and told her despite her shot of the license plate; nothing had panned out, so no answers there.

  Hence, why she had reached out to some old contacts from the area to see if anyone had seen Jimmy since that sighting weeks ago. As she was scrolling through the web browser, she finally found the e-mail she had been waiting for. His private number was in the e-mail and said to call as soon as she got it. She picked up her phone and made the call.

  ***

  Jesse was usually the first one in, so wasn’t expecting anything. But, when he came into the bar, he saw there was a glitch in their security. A tall redhead sat at the far end of the bar, seated in a way where she could see all exits from her seat. Her face was illuminated in the dark bar by her laptop screen.

  He made a point to make a noise, setting his motorcycle helmet down on a bar stool.

  “I should have known I couldn’t keep out a P.I. out with my security system.”

  She didn’t look way from the screen as she spoke, “You need to change your security code more often. I’ve been here for weeks, and you only changed the code once.”

  She looked up, shutting the screen close.

  “How current is your permit to conceal a weapon? When is the last time you’ve been to the firing range and practice?”

  He frowned, “Pete’s Grandad had us all learn to shoot and carry a permit; he had mine renewed six months ago. And the last time I’ve been at the range was last week.”

  She nodded, “How about in a fight, no lies, no bullshit, can you hold your own?”

  He gave her a look but continued, “I can hold my own. You don’t run a bar without learning something about fighting. What’s going on, Sim?”

  She looked up at him, “You said you would help me in any way you could to find Jimmy, right?” He nodded his head firmly, “Yeah. I meant that.”

  She closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. She opened them and looked at him, “Good. Call your Dad, tell him you and I need a week off.”

  She grabbed her laptop and began putting things up as she stood. Jesse did a double-take. “What?! Why?”

>   He followed her as she went to the back of the bar through the back door. She slung her pack on her back, “And pack a bag. We leave for New Orleans tomorrow morning, so get plenty of rest.” She got on her bike, Jesse right behind her.

  “Wait! Simone, what the hell is going on?”

  She paused in putting on her helmet as she looked at him, “I finally got Max to talk to me. Jimmy wasn’t seeing her; he was seeing the drummer in her band. I've spoken to the girl, and she confirmed Max’s story. Lisa, the girl, told me Jimmy was looking for a way to make some fast money and a guy around here put him onto someone he knew.”

  A cautious hope entered her eyes, making them appear even greener. “I think I found him.”

  Chapter Seven

  They made New Orleans in good time, arriving in the afternoon and checking into the double rooms Sim booked for them yesterday. While they drove up on their bikes, about a half-hour before reaching their destination, they pulled over into a storage facility. There Simone opened a large unit to reveal a black, all-terrain Jeep. It wasn’t a rental; Jesse had been sure with the well-worn seats and the dulling-paint. They parked the bikes and moved their gear to the jeep. When he asked her how she arranged it, she shrugged, “I called an old contact that’s a local and Harry agreed to help.”

  Her gaze went distant for a moment, “I grew up in New Orleans, I know there were some dirty cops then, but I don’t know who might still be here and how far up the chain they go, so I’m not involving New Orleans PD in this case.”

  The fact she didn’t want the cops involved, didn’t set well with Jesse.

  When they got to the motel, Simone took out the large suitcase she had in the back and unloaded it in the room. Jesse was surprised at the contents. Clothes to fit a teenage boy, shoes, suture kits, gauze, bandages, various bottles, and syringes. He knew from both his short time as a cop and years of being around Peter, he was easily looking at the field kit of a paramedic and one ready for pretty much anything.

  It hit home then. Simone was expecting Jimmy to be severely injured and had prepared for it. Or for them to be hurt and that made his breath catch. Not at the idea of himself being injured, but Simone. For a brief moment, he wondered if he should have come after all; he had walked away from this kind of work. Then he shook his head to clear it. He promised Simone he would see this through. He would keep his promise.

  Simone wondered if bringing Jesse along had been such a good idea after all. He had walked away from a dangerous job because he lost a victim on a case and she was dragging him right back into a dangerous job. She saw the look of apprehension on his face before a look of resolved determination came over him, and she felt her respect for him rise another notch.

  After they both had cleaned up, Sim took him out and showed him the sights, familiarizing them with the streets. They acted the part of a pair of tourists for the festival that was going on, seeing the sights and sampling the booths. It all seemed to be going well till she heard a voice she hadn’t heard in many years.

  “Sabine? Is that you?”

  She looked at the woman that spoke, not recognizing her.

  “I’m sorry; you must have me mistaken for someone else.”

  The woman stopped her again, a smirk graced her face.

  “Oh, I got the right person alright. Sabine LeVeau, you disappeared when Katrina hit, and everyone thought you were dead.”

  Simone pulled her arm away, “Look, lady. I don’t know who this Sabine chick is, but I ain’t her.”

  Simone glared down at the much shorter woman, “Now, piss off.”

  She took Jesse’s hand and pulled him along, “Come on, honey. Let’s go.” Jesse brushed a hand along her shoulder, “Whatever you say, darling.”

  Simone had to fight the laugh trying to erupt at his ‘yes-ma’am’ tone.

  They strode through the crowd, putting as much distance between them and the woman. Jesse was silent through the first few booths after they left the strange woman. Just who was Sabine? And why did Sim run as fast as she could from her?

  Simone could see the question in his eyes and decided to tell him something, but not all of it. She didn’t look at him, “That was Cherise Robillard. She was well...I thought had been my best friend when I was fifteen.”

  She snorted, “Till I found her going down on my dad,”

  “Step-dad,” she amended. Simone winced, thinking about all that had gone down then. Of the beating, she received later when she confronted him about it. It had been the worst beating she had then, the scars still visible under the full-body tattoo on her back.

  “Needless to say, I dropped her, and later on, I found out my step-dad more or less kept her on the side after Mom and I left.”

  She didn’t say anything else, the memories too painful. Jesse knew that she wasn’t going to say anything else. For now.

  As the day wore on, Simone saw that while parts of the city of her childhood had changed, the New Orleans gossip hive hadn’t one bit. Everywhere she turned; it seemed Cherise’s sighting had brought out every bit of gossip ever mentioned of her mother and herself.

  About how terrible they were for letting Ray think they were dead the last years of his life. How she had been wild and telling lies about her daddy. About how her mother tricked her father into marrying her by getting pregnant.

  She rolled her eyes at that one, as if she intended to get pregnant at fifteen.

  The list went on and the rumors more outlandish than the last one. Some of them sounding like they came out of a bad soap-opera.

  Finally, they were able to return to their rooms, and all Sim wanted to do was shower and climb into bed, but knew that wasn’t going to happen. So, she called Jane and talked, “So, how is it to be back in New Orleans?” Simone glanced around the room, “It’s different. Some of the stores and restaurants I grew up with are either gone or had to be re-located.”

  Simone had been heartbroken to learn the café where she worked as a teen, and her mother used to take her to as a little girl, did not re-open after the floods and restorations took place.

  It was later that night, and Jesse lay awake in bed, thinking back over the events that happened that day. He honestly didn’t know how Sim went through the streets, hearing those old harpies talking about her mama like she was street trash and not bite their heads off. Hell, he didn’t know if he could if that had been his mama.

  And how they talked about Simone, the thought had his fists clenched and wanting to pound someone. She could deny being Sabine all she wanted, but he saw by her reactions, Sabine and Simone were the one and the same. Before they came out here, all she said was when her parents divorced, and they moved to North Carolina. She and her mother wanted a fresh start, so they changed their names. He saw now, there was a bit more than what she said. He also saw what had shaped the tough and guarded woman he was falling for.

  He went still at that thought. Was he falling for Simone?

  He turned over and thought about her and what attracted her to him. Her strength and determination were one thing that first drew him in. Her beauty was another, her compassion; brother or not, not many people would drop everything for a sibling that not only had a history of running away, but barely knew them. He groaned when he realized that he did. Damn.

  The first time he’s serious about a woman since Tammy, and she’s ready to run for the hills. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  ***

  The next day, Sim suggested they go out and do a ‘tour’ to familiarize them with the city. Jesse agreed and shortly after that, they left to have breakfast at one of the restaurants across from the motel they were staying at. To his surprise, Simone ordered them both the special the locals favored, and it was good. She shrugged after the waitress left to fill their order, “This was something mom and me would order when we would come here.”

  Her eyes widened, “Oh, crap I didn’t even think to ask if you have allergies!”

  She starts to wave down their waitress when he takes ahold of
her hand, stopping her. His laughing gray eyes stared back at her, “Your fine, Sim. I don’t have any food allergies, so you’re good.”

  They left the restaurant and began a tour along walking the streets. Simone quietly pointing out homes and restaurants she remembered from her childhood. She was saddened to see despite the years since the floods, there were still signs of the damage: one empty foundation where the family didn’t have the heart to rebuild; a store front still boarded up with a sign saying they would not be re-opening.

  Before she realized it, she had led them onto a very familiar street. Jesse stopped as Sim paused in front of a large elaborate white home. He saw the street sign say ‘Garden District’ and looked over at Sim. She had a faraway look on her face as she looked at the house. He leaned in and quietly asked her, “Is this your old house?”

  She shakily nodded, “Yeah. It’s technically mine. I found out after Ray died that he left it to me.” She shook her head, “I have a maintenance staff come in, but I just couldn’t bring myself to come back here and do anything with it.”

  He looked back at the large home then back at her.

  “Maybe after this is finished, you can. You could always sell it, or hell even give it to a charity.” Simone smiled at that idea, clearing the troubled look from her eyes.

  “I just might do that. Thanks, Jesse.”

  He smiled at her, taking her hand in his, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, giving the image of a loving couple, “Now, how do you feel about finishing the tour?”

  He looked over at her, “By the way, I’ve been wanting to ask this. How’d you come up with your name?” She gave him a side-look before answering, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s kinda silly how I came up with it.” He nudged her, “I still wanna hear it.” A silly smile graced her face, “At the time, I was fascinated with all things French. When we left the city, I had my granny’s old copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Well, when we were traveling to North Carolina; I had the book out and just thumbing through it. I was looking at the title page, and that was the name of one of the authors.” She gave a sheepish shrug, “It just jumped out at me.”