by Tracy Sharp
This time I decided to knock on the woman’s door and let her know I was taking her vehicle. I couldn’t kick her while she was down by just taking it from her without telling her. A pretty brunette with rimless glasses and a warm smile answered the door.
As kindly as I could, I let her know the situation and asked for her keys. She nodded, eyes fluttering downward in embarrassment before she said, “Of course. One moment, please.”
She returned moments later and handed me the keys, softly wishing me a good day before closing the door. I stood on her doorstep for a moment before turning and heading to her yellow Ford Escape. I glanced at Callahan sitting in his tow truck on the street before climbing into the truck and dropping the repo papers onto the passenger seat.
I thought about the woman as I made my way onto the highway, unable to shake the sadness I felt for her. I told myself that I couldn’t save everyone as I glanced in my mirror at Callahan who was a few cars behind me. As I fiddled with the radio buttons, I accidentally ejected a CD from the CD player. I pulled it out and looked it over quickly as I drove. It was a female artist I’d never heard of. I made a mental note to get the CD back to the woman.
Suddenly a siren sounded behind me. I looked into my mirror to discover a police cruiser following me, lights flashing. I was being pulled over. I frowned. I was sure I hadn’t been speeding more than five miles over the speed limit, and on this highway they usually let you go ten over. I pulled over to the shoulder with a deep feeling of foreboding rising up in me.
I watched in my side mirror as the trooper approached. He was short and stocky, and looked like a scrapper. Great. When he reached the window I tried to stay calm, offering him a friendly smile. “What have I done now?”
His face was serious as a heart attack. “Step out of the car, please, ma’am.”
I felt my smile fall away from my face. “Excuse me?”
“I said, step out of the car.” His mirrored sunglasses reflected my confused face back to me. It was like an image in a funhouse mirror, warped and strange.
I climbed out of the Escape, stood beside the cop and watched him look into the truck.
“I’m an auto recovery agent, officer. I’ve just repossessed this vehicle. My paperwork is there on the—”
“Turn around please, ma’am.”
I gaped at him. “What?”
“Turn around please.”
“What for?”
“Just turn around!”
As I turned, I looked frantically for Callahan’s tow truck but he was nowhere in sight. Where the hell was he?
I felt my hands being pulled behind my back and handcuffs being placed on my wrists. My bladder felt suddenly full. I’d seen COPS. I knew they cuffed people when they had reasonable suspicion that there was something illegal in the vehicle. There was no way the woman I’d just spoken with had any drugs or guns in her Escape. She just wasn’t the type.
She was schizophrenic. She had to be paranoid. Maybe there were guns.
The trooper searched the vehicle and within moments was standing in front of me, waving a bag of what looked an awful lot like cocaine in my face.
My stomach turned to ice water. “That’s not mine.”
“Oh, sure it’s not.” The sneer in his voice matched the one on his face. “It never is.”
“No.” I heard my voice rising, the high-pitched panic creeping in and I hated it. “I’m an auto recovery agent. My paperwork is right there on the passenger seat.”
He reached into the Escape and grabbed the paperwork, held it up to my face and tore it into little bits, letting the pieces fly off into the wind.
“What paper work?”
* * *
Thank Christ Cal’s a defense attorney. That’s what I was thinking as I sat in the holding cell of the smallest police station I’d ever seen. It was located just off the highway and run by two cops who said nothing to me. I sat there keeping the faith for two hours before Callahan, looking a little worse for wear with two black eyes and a split lip, sprung me. My concern for my own problems faded when I saw him.
I took a deep breath when we hit the outside. I’d only been in jail for a two hours and I had no intention of visiting again. “What happened to you?”
“I was pushed off onto the exit, then off the road, beat up and had all four tires shot out. There’s also some extensive damage to the windshield.”
I nodded slowly as if I understood. “Uh huh. I don’t suppose that was just bad luck?”
“Um, no. It was strongly suggested to me to stay out of Woodard’s business.”
“I see.” The music in the truck was grating on my nerves, so I reached over and turned it off. I didn’t feel like listening to music just now.
“I guess what happened to you was related. Either that or it’s one hell of a coincidence.”
“You proved to them that I work for you and I had nothing to do with those drugs?”
He nodded. “Yeah. The drug thing was bullshit. It was just to scare you, show you what they can do to you if you don’t back off.” He was having trouble speaking through swollen lips. “They didn’t know I’m a lawyer. That little fact seemed to back them off quite a bit.”
“Well, see? Your law degree did come in handy.”
He didn’t smile.
“So they’re just letting me go. Gotta love small little hick town cop shops. You don’t think they’ll go after Wynona Baker, do you?”
Callahan shook his head. “No. It has nothing to do with her.”
“So Woodard has some cops in his pocket. Surprise, surprise. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.” No wonder nothing was done about the Asian women Woodard had trucked in. This cop had probably been on the scene. Or at least some close Trooper buddies of his. Woodard didn’t move the women at all. They were there all along.”
“Exactly. Oh what a tangled web we weave.”
“Please, I can’t handle Shakespeare right now.”
“So, are you going to back off?” He glanced at me, his dark curls flicking in the wind from the open window.
“I’m rattled. I’m not backing off just yet, though.”
“That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”
“You?”
“What? And miss all the fun?”
I closed my eyes and smiled into the wind.
Chapter Twenty
Buddy’s ears perked up. I’d heard it too.
In the woods lining the back of the house, twigs snapped. Buddy’s ears went almost flat against his head. His muscles bunched and he was suddenly an inch taller. He was instantly in defense mode, growling deep in his throat. I didn’t have him on a leash, so I knew he’d take off like a rocket after whoever was out there. I just hoped they didn’t have a gun.
I reached behind me and pulled my 9mm out from the waist of my jeans. These days, I wasn’t about to go anywhere without it. I cocked it and aimed toward the sounds.
“Holy shit!”
I knew that voice. I’d know it anywhere.
I grabbed Buddy by the collar just as Sean came stumbling out of the trees.
“Sean! What in hell are you doing sneaking around in the woods behind my house?”
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Buddy. “Wow. Big dog.” His eyes moved to the gun I’d lowered to my side. “Wow. Gun.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“I got lost. My place is just down the road. Thought I’d walk over and surprise you. I think they’ve moved the path that used to be behind those woods.”
“My dog almost ate you.”
“I didn’t know you had a dog.”
I patted Buddy on the head. “It’s okay, Bud. He’s a friend.”
Buddy sat down but kept his eyes on Sean.
“Sorry I scared you,” he said, walking slowly over to us.
“Yeah, well, you might want to call first next time.” I replaced the gun in its spot between my jeans and lower back.
“Oh, I’ll rem
ember next time,” he said, wary eyes on Buddy.
I kept my face expressionless. “Good.” I turned and headed toward the front porch. “You want a beer?”
“That’d be great.” He followed me up to the front door.
I turned and stopped him with a look. “Stay.”
Buddy sat down.
Sean knew that I meant him and he backed up, stepping wide around Buddy to sit on the top front step.
I went in and got a couple of beers out of the fridge. I twisted the cap off one and considered making him twist his own damned cap off but didn’t want to have to pick the cap up later and throw it away. So I twisted his off too. When I went back out onto the porch, Sean and Buddy were watching each other suspiciously.
“You keep looking at him like that he’s going to bite your face off. Eye contact is considered a challenge in doggy world.”
Sean looked away from Buddy. “It’s considered a challenge in human world, too. I don’t like your dog.”
“That’s good. Maybe it’ll keep you away.” I handed him a beer.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a long pull from the bottle.
“So, what brings you here? My charming personality?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Seeing you at the shop just brought back good memories. Just felt like I wanted to see you.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
I heard movement inside the kitchen and turned my head to see Jesse standing at the screen door looking out at us.
“Oh, hey, Sean. I heard voices. I knew these weren’t the ones in my head.”
Sean chuckled. “Hey, Jess. How’s it goin’?”
“Good.” He nodded, looking at Sean, then me, then Sean again. “Okay. I’m going to grab a coke and watch T.V. Later.”
Sean lifted his beer to Jesse.
“I won’t be long, Jess,” I said, more for Sean’s benefit than Jesse’s.
“Whatever,” Jesse said over his shoulder.
There was a long silence as we sat outside, watching dusk gather around us.
“You seem the same,” Sean said, smiling. “That’s nice.”
I wished he wouldn’t smile at me. It made my chest all fluttery.
It was hard just sitting next to him. My attraction to him was so chemical. It was as if my body actually craved him. Every inch of me wanted to reach out for him. “I’ve changed a lot.”
“You’ve changed your behavior but you’re still the same inside. I can tell.”
I shrugged. “I’m a lot smarter than I was before.” I took a long pull off my beer. “I’m sure you’re still the same.”
It was his turn to shrug. “I dunno. I’m tired of the same old thing. I’m getting too old to be Tom-catting around all the time.” He turned his face and looked at me kind of sideways. “Thinking I need to find someone special.”
The little lines around his eyes and mouth made him sexier than he’d been all those years ago. My breath quickened a little, but I deliberately slowed it, inhaling long and deep, then exhaling in a sigh. “Well, I’m sure you’ve got quite a harem to choose from.”
I’d been stupid for Sean when I was a kid. I was tough but he was always my weakness. He was the one thing that could cause me to make stupid mistakes because of emotion. I didn’t like myself when I was with him. He brought out jealousy and anger as well as passion. I’d decided that it had just been a crush. Now I wondered. How long could a crush actually last? I was reacting the same as I had back then for Sean. This time was different. I had my wits about me and I wasn’t about to let him cloud my judgment again.
“I don’t want just anyone. Leah, you and me, we were really good together. Don’t you remember? All those nights in the fields at the edge of town. That time in the rain.” He snickered. “Man, it was pouring—”
“Yeah. I remember. I remember me being an idiot and believing everything you said to me, then catching you with a new girl every week.”
“I was young and stupid.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me you don’t have a different woman at least every week now.” I stared him in the eye.
He opened his mouth, to lie no doubt, then closed it. He lifted his palms in defeat. “Okay, I can’t deny it or justify it. I’m serious when I say I’m looking to slow down.” He reached up to touch my cheek.
I wanted to lean in and rest my face in his cupped hand, but instead, I leaned back.
Buddy growled and took a step toward Sean.
“I wouldn’t touch me if I were you.”
“No,” he replied. “I guess I’d better not. I’ll tell you something, Leah. You’re snarling at me more than that dog is.”
“I know you better than he does.”
“Okay. I get the point.” He finished his beer. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. And if you remember, I can be pretty persistent.” He stood up and looked down at me, grinning. “And pretty persuasive.” He winked and walked down the four stairs to my porch and out of the yard, aware of me staring at his rear the entire way.
I stared until he’d disappeared into the woods. Then I shook my head to sober myself up and went in to work off some sexual tension. As I lifted weights, memories of a rain-soaked field and the taste of Sean’s hot mouth played in my mind.
* * *
Later that night, Jesse and I sat on the couch watching tech shows. I wondered if it was wise for us to be watching shows about computers and the Internet, considering his situation. He was really trying to make good, staying away from computers and the net. I have a computer in my bedroom but never offered him the use of it and so far he hadn’t asked. I’d contemplated locking my bedroom door but didn’t want to treat him as if I didn’t trust him. If I did that, it might push him right back into his addiction.
“So how are you liking the bike shop?” I asked him as I reached into the bowl of buttered popcorn. I don’t usually eat buttered popcorn. Jesse likes it and I couldn’t resist since the smell was rising up to my nostrils and driving me crazy.
“It’s great. I’m learning all kinds of stuff. And Jack said that pretty soon I can build a bike on my own.” His face was bright with excitement.
“That’s awesome, Jess.”
“And I met a girl.”
“Oh?”
He nodded proudly. “She came in today asking questions about the possibility of having a bike built.”
“Oooh. A toughy, huh?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. She seems tough but … soft, too. I mean, inside. Her body is way buff.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Seeing him this excited really did my heart good. He seemed happy for the first time in years. I could see hope in his face.
“Did you ask her out?”
“Not yet. She’s supposed to come by again tomorrow. She has some design ideas she wanted to sketch out. We’re going to look at the design and see what we can do from there.” He drank some of his coke. “Building a bike isn’t something you do lightly, you know. And you have to have the right match between bike and personality. Jack says that sometimes there are people we just can’t help because their ideas don’t mesh with ours.”
I liked that he was using words like “we” and “ours” when referring to the shop. It showed he really felt like he belonged and that he was planning on staying there for a while.
“That rocks, Jess.” I smiled. “You’re doing really good. You know?”
He smiled back. “Yeah, sis. I think I am.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Meanwhile, I hadn’t heard from Woodard but I knew he was keeping me in his thoughts. I was trying to figure out how to get those Asian women out of his clutches safely. Although it seemed highly improbable, it wasn’t impossible. There had to be a way.
Cal and I had watched the house long enough to know the basic layout. I remembered that there were doors leading to the cellar on the outside of the house on the left side. If we could get past the pit bulls, we could break into the house through the cellar doors. We’d have our weapons ready, and
if it came down to it, I was pretty certain I could shoot my way through the house until I found those women.
Still, the bills had to get paid somehow, so Cal and I headed out to another repo job. I’m a driver and hate being a passenger in any vehicle. You have no control when you’re a passenger.
I began our conversation with the question I always asked him. “So who’s the target?”
“This one should be fun.” He gave me a mischievous smile.
“Oh yeah? So quit toying with my emotions. Who is it?”
“Head to Saratoga.”
Saratoga Springs was the hoity-toity place to live in the Capital district. In the summertime, the area was jam-packed full of thousands of tourists who were there for the racetrack. Multi-millionaires spent thousands betting on horses in mere minutes. It was a drop in the bucket for them. Celebrities came from far and wide. It was an expensive place to live. I figured it must be some well-to-do person. He had my attention. I smiled. This would be fun. So I asked him again. “Who is it?”
“State Trooper Daniel Finn.”
I gaped at him as I headed onto the highway. “No flipping way.” Suddenly the job didn’t seem like so much fun anymore.
He nodded, “Oh, yeah. Way.”
“Let me get this straight. We are on our merry way to repossess the vehicle of a State frigging Trooper?”
“Yeah. That’s about the size of it, yes.”
“Fudge.” I shook my head.
“Now you’re making me hungry for fudge,” Cal said.
“How does this happen to me?” My mind raced, trying to find an alternative, any way out. “Can’t you just refuse to do this job? Can’t someone else do it?”
“Oh yeah. That’s what I want my company’s reputation to be. Too chicken-shit to do the hard jobs. No I can’t refuse the job. If I do that, then the client goes elsewhere and word gets around that I’m not reliable. So we’re doing the job.”