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Hell on Heels

Page 21

by Carla Cassidy


  She flashed him a tired smile. “I can handle it myself. I need to handle it myself. If I intend to be in this business for a long time, then I have to learn to take care of myself.”

  “You don’t seem to have any problems there,” he replied.

  He drove in silence for several moments and she closed her eyes once again.

  “Chantal?” he spoke her name softly and she opened her eyes and looked at him once again. “That crap that Willowby said to you on the plane…about you and him being alike. You didn’t take any of that seriously, did you?”

  She wanted to laugh it off, tell him that of course she hadn’t taken it to heart, but she was too tired to lie convincingly. “I don’t know. Sometimes I worry about what drew me to this particular line of work.”

  She sighed and focused her attention out the window, unwilling to look at him while she went to the dark thoughts that haunted her soul. “He was right about us coming from the same kind of background. Maybe I am as jaded, as bored as he is and that’s why when I’m hunting a skip or closing in to make a collar, I get a tremendous kick of adrenaline. And I wonder if somehow that makes me like Willowby.”

  “The businessman who gets a rush when he closes a big deal, the stockbroker who gets a high when he reads the market right, are those men like Willowby?” He didn’t give her an opportunity to answer, but continued, “The cops who get a rush when they catch a murderer, the firemen who get pumped about putting out a fire, are those people like Willowby?”

  With each word he spoke something in her chest, a pressure that had ached for a long time, broke loose. “Of course not,” she whispered.

  “Chantal, on your worst day, in the foulest mood you could ever be in, you’re nothing like Willowby. Willowby wouldn’t have the compassion to worry about a friend’s well-being. He’d never feel the guilt over something that happened that was beyond his control. Willowby doesn’t have the empathy to feel for other people. You do.”

  “Thank you. I needed to hear that and you’re right.” She grinned. “Besides, I still get a kick when I find the perfect pair of shoes or see a perfect sunset. I get a buzz when I spend a great evening with my mom or listen to good music.” She wasn’t like Willowby at all. She found great joy in living. She got an adrenaline rush from all kinds of simple things, including a kiss from the man seated next to her.

  “And you bounty hunt because you’re good at it,” he said. “And you’re doing something good.” He pulled up in her driveway, cut the engine, then turned to look at her, his expression inscrutable. “You need to get a good night’s sleep.”

  She nodded. “I could say the same to you.” For the first time since they’d been together the air between them was strained.

  If she had her way she’d invite him in, sleep the night away in his arms as she had during their time together in Tamillo. But, there was a distance in his eyes, a remoteness in his expression that kept her from making the offer.

  “I’ll get your suitcases,” he said and got out of the truck. Chantal got out as well and watched as he grabbed her two suitcases from the back of the truck.

  She followed just behind him as he carried them to her front door. As she dug in her purse for her keys, he dropped the suitcases and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  She’d had uncomfortable morning-afters before, but nothing that compared to the strain she felt coming off him. Was he afraid that she’d demand he declare undying love for her? Afraid that she might expect some kind of commitment?

  He obviously believed what had happened in Tamillo stayed in Tamillo and she wasn’t the type of woman to pursue a man who didn’t want to be pursued.

  She unlocked her front door then turned to look at him. Luke, with his handsome, chiseled features and beautiful dark eyes. Luke, with that sexy grin that stirred her in a million ways. It was time to say goodbye.

  “Thanks, Luke. It was fun.” She forced a carefree smile to her lips.

  “Yeah, it was all good.” He started to pick up her bags, but she stopped him.

  “I can get it from here.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded. “Go home, get some sleep and I’ll see you on the streets.”

  “Good night, Chantal.” He didn’t wait for her reply, but rather turned on his heels and strode toward his truck without a backward glance.

  She watched until his truck disappeared from her view, then carried her suitcases into the foyer one at a time. She should unpack, but the weariness that had swept over her when she’d stepped out of the police station now nearly consumed her.

  As she locked the door behind her she heard a loud meow and turned to see Sam padding toward her. In un-characteristic affection he coiled around her legs as if she were his best friend.

  “Hi, Sam.” She picked him up in her arms and he purred with pleasure. “I guess it’s true, absence does make the heart grow fonder,” she said to the cat.

  She hugged the furry warmth against her chest, hoping to banish the ache of loneliness that assailed her, a loneliness that was both unexpected and unwanted and had Luke Coleman’s name written all over it.

  Chapter 17

  Dust motes danced in the early-morning sunshine that streamed through the bank of windows at the Kansas City International Airport.

  Chantal, Harrah and Belinda stood just outside the secured area, saying a final goodbye to each other.

  Chantal had been home from Tamillo for two days. She’d slept the first day away. Yesterday she’d spent some time with her mother, stopped into her hair salon and had her hair color returned to its normal blond, then last night she and Harrah had staged an intervention with Belinda.

  Chantal had come to Belinda’s house armed with phone numbers and contacts to the most successful private rehab centers in the country. And she’d come with the single-minded purpose of seeing that the friend she loved got help.

  She’d come to terms with the fact that Belinda needed help, more than the help of a good friend and the crutch of her pills, booze and men.

  It had been a long night filled with angry outbursts, sharp denials and tears. Ultimately Belinda had agreed that she needed help for her addictions, for her fears and for the post-traumatic stress of the rape she’d suffered so many years before.

  She’d chosen a facility in southern California and the arrangements had been made for her to check in upon her arrival.

  “You’ll come and visit me?” she now said to Chantal.

  “The minute you’re allowed visitors,” Chantal replied. “I’m so proud of you for doing this.”

  Belinda smiled. “I’ve needed to do this for a long time, but I didn’t want to face it.” She raised her chin. “I’m proud of myself. I haven’t felt good about me for a very long time.”

  “There will be no living with her when she gets home,” Harrah teased.

  Belinda grabbed Harrah and Chantal’s hands and squeezed tightly. “I’m scared to death,” she confessed.

  “I’d worry about you if you weren’t,” Chantal replied. “But you’ll be fine. You’re stronger than you think you are, Belinda.”

  “I know and I know this is the right thing to do,” she replied.

  At that moment an announcer came over the loudspeaker indicating that Belinda’s flight had begun to board. “I need to go. I guess this is goodbye.” She hugged Harrah, then turned to Chantal.

  “Thank you for getting tough with me,” she said and hugged Chantal tightly. “You’re the best friend a person could ever have.”

  “You promise me that when you get off the plane you’ll go straight to Rolling Rivers,” Chantal said.

  Belinda released her and smiled. “Pinky swear.”

  Harrah and Chantal watched as Belinda went through security, then they waved goodbye as Belinda disappeared down the hallway that would take her to her flight.

  “She’ll be all right,” Harrah said as she and Chantal turned to exit the airport.

  “I know. Thanks for your help in gettin
g her on the plane.”

  Harrah flashed her beautiful smile. “It wasn’t all that much work. I think she wanted to go. She knew her life was going nowhere, that she needed help.”

  Chantal nodded, her thoughts already moving forward to the next item on her agenda for the day. “Did you talk to Jimmy?” she asked, referring to Harrah’s brother.

  “I did. He’s all set.”

  “Good,” Chantal replied, hoping her plan to neutralize Mundy worked.

  Minutes later the two women were in Chantal’s car. It was a twenty-minute drive from the airport to the small town of Lansing, Kansas, where both Mundy and Jimmy were inmates in the prison.

  “You haven’t said much about your time in Mexico,” Harrah said as she flipped the passenger visor down against the bright sunshine.

  “There’s not much to tell,” Chantal replied.

  “You must have been terrified, going up against Willowby all alone.”

  Chantal flashed her assistant a quick glance. “I wasn’t exactly all alone. Luke Coleman was with me.”

  Harrah raised a dark eyebrow. “Really? How did that happen?”

  Briefly Chantal told her about Luke seeing the ticket and showing up on the plane to Tamillo. She didn’t mention that they’d played the role of honeymooning couple but she felt Harrah’s keen gaze lingering on her and her cheeks warmed.

  “You and that hunky man kicked it while you were south of the border, didn’t you?”

  Chantal thought about lying, but knew she was awful at it and Harrah would see right through her. Instead she nodded. “Yeah, it was no big deal. You know, two strangers in a strange land…yada, yada, yada. It was great and now it’s done and it’s life back to usual.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Sure. It was just a mutual case of lust, nothing more.” Chantal forced an easy laugh. “You know all about lust, it’s good and strong for a little while, but it never lasts for long.”

  “Don’t I know,” Harrah exclaimed. “Before Lena and I got together I had a few lust-based relationships myself.”

  Chantal was relieved when Harrah began talking about her latest jewelry creations. She didn’t want to think about Luke Coleman. She didn’t want to examine her feelings for the man who was obviously gone from her life. It irritated her that he’d occupied her thoughts far too often in the past two days.

  She assumed he was back to business as usual, working the streets as he had been before the trip to Mexico, but she hadn’t been to Big Joey’s so hadn’t seen him since her return home.

  She had consciously stayed away from Big Joey’s, knowing that her week in Mexico probably hadn’t cooled Mundy’s goons. She was hoping her little visit to the prison today would solve that problem.

  It was going to be weird, seeing Luke again. She only hoped they could both be adults and their time together in Mexico wouldn’t even be mentioned.

  The Lansing Correctional Facility was the state’s largest complex for detention of adult male felony offenders. Chantal knew from her research that the prison had four custody levels, special management, maximum, medium and minimum.

  Both Harrah’s brother, Jimmy, and Perry Mundy were considered medium-security risks and were housed in the same population, which served Chantal’s plan perfectly.

  The women arrived five minutes before visiting hours would begin. Outside the prison entrance, inmates clad in prison blue worked on the lawn, clipping bushes and watering flowers.

  Several guards stood nearby, their armed status a reminder that the men might be tending nature, but their natures weren’t particularly tender.

  It took nearly twenty minutes for them to go through the security process. A guard explained the rules to them, no touching, no passing of notes or items between inmates and visitors. The guard then preceded them down a hallway that led to the interior of the prison. He unlocked a metal door and ushered them into the visiting area.

  The room contained tables and chairs set some distance apart. Vending machines stood against one wall and armed guards in all four corners of the room stood on elevated platforms to afford them a view of the entire area.

  There were already several inmates and visitors there, chatting quietly across from each other. Chantal sat at one of the empty tables, Harrah at another nearby.

  Chantal had decided the only way to deal with Mundy’s threats was to fight fire with fire and that’s what she intended to do. He wanted to play tough guy…she could get tough right back.

  As she waited for him to appear, she wondered if this was where Willowby would spend the rest of his natural life? His lawyer had already begun the appeal process, but Chantal felt confident the original sentence would stand. Now he had the additional charge of fleeing to contend with.

  She watched as Harrah’s brother, Jimmy, appeared in the doorway. Jimmy was a huge man. He stood well over six feet tall and had the bulk of a bodybuilder. Harrah referred to him as a gentle giant.

  His eyes met Chantal’s and he nodded shyly to her as he beelined to where his sister awaited him. He joined her at the table and the two began to talk in almost-whispers.

  As Chantal waited for Mundy to appear she found her gaze going to Harrah and Jimmy. She knew how much Harrah adored her brother and it was obvious he cared deeply about his sister as well. Their mutual affection was evident in their body language as they leaned forward to speak to each other.

  Thank God for friends, she thought as she stared down at the table in front of her. This whole plan wouldn’t work without the friendship of Harrah and her relationship with her brother.

  The door to the visiting room opened and Mundy appeared. Perry Mundy was not an attractive young man. His skin was scarred with acne and he was thin to the point of emaciation, but that wasn’t what made him unpleasant to look at.

  There was a sneakiness in his eyes, an arrogance in his walk and a sneer to his thin lips that defined him as punk bad-ass.

  He looked around the room in confusion and when his gaze fell on her, he couldn’t hide his surprise. He recovered quickly, sauntered to the table and sprawled in the seat across from her.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the bitch who put me in this place,” he said.

  “Ah, Perry, you give me far too much credit,” she replied easily. “You put yourself here by breaking the law, but I’m not here to talk to you about your past crimes. We need to talk about the fact that you’ve had some of your buddies looking for me.”

  He stared at her in mock innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His lips held just enough of a smirk to let her know that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

  “You’re complicating my life, Perry, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one little bit.” She leaned back in her chair and smiled at him. “So, I’ve decided to complicate your life.”

  The smile worried him. The smirk fell away and he eyed her warily. “What are you talking about?”

  “You have friends on the outside? I have friends on the inside.” She waited a moment to let him digest her words, then she gestured toward Jimmy, who turned and stared at Mundy.

  Any resemblance Chantal thought Jimmy had to a cuddly bear was gone. His thick black eyebrows pulled together in a frown that radiated a threatening menace. His hands balled into fists on the top of the table as he continued to glare at Mundy.

  “Call off your boys, Perry,” Chantal said softly. “Call off your boys or your life in here isn’t worth a plugged nickel. Jimmy’s my friend and he has friends.”

  Fear darkened Mundy’s eyes as he looked at Chantal. He raked a hand through his greasy dark hair, then smiled uncertainly. “I told you I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then I guess we’re done here.” She nodded to Jimmy, then started to rise from the table.

  “Wait,” Mundy exclaimed and she sank back down. He shot another glance at Jimmy who still stared at him with gleaming dark eyes that promised a particular brand of hell. “Okay…
all right. I’ll make some phone calls.”

  Chantal leaned forward. “You’d better make them quickly. Anything happens to me on the streets and your life will be miserable. I walk out of here and get a hangnail, Jimmy and his friends are going to come looking for you.”

  “All right,” he said, fear evident on his weasel features. “I said I’d take care of it.”

  “Today, Mundy. I want this issue taken care of today, otherwise you’d better sleep tonight with both eyes open.” This time he didn’t stop her when she stood. He looked at Jimmy for a third time, then looked back at her and nodded.

  Chantal left the waiting room, confident that she’d gotten her life back.

  “What did you do? Piss off Coleman?” Joey asked Chantal two nights later as she sat in his office.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “He hasn’t been in since you two went to Mexico for Willowby. He called and told me to hold his check, that he’d contact me later about where to send it.”

  So, he was gone. She wasn’t surprised at the information, but she was surprised at the wave of disappointment that swept through her.

  “I didn’t piss him off. Maybe he just figured it was time to move on.”

  Joey frowned and shook his head. “Damn shame. He was my most productive.” His frown disappeared and he grinned at Chantal. “But I have a feeling if you stay in this business long enough you’ll rival his skills.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Chantal replied.

  “You took care of your little problem with Mundy?”

  She smiled. “Word on the street is that anyone harms a hair on my head they’ll have Mundy’s boys to deal with.”

  Joey shot her a look filled with respect. “I gotta hand it to you, I had my doubts when I hired you, but I’m thinking it was the best damn business decision I’ve ever made.”

  His words filled her with pride. She knew Joey wasn’t a man who gave his respect easily, but she also knew she’d earned that respect.

  “I’m going to get out of here,” she said. “It’s getting late and the forecast is for a storm and there are a couple places I want to check out before I call it a night.”

 

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