Thirty-Six and a Half Motives: Rose Gardner Mystery #9 (Rose Gardner Mystery Series)

by Denise Grover Swank

  “What I’m planning is no damned business of yours.”

  “You and I both know it’s very much my business.”

  “This is not your goddamned world!” he shouted, his voice ringing in my ears. “Just because you put on a damned hat does not make you a part of it!”

  I stomped toward him and jabbed his chest. “You’re my friend, and I care about you. I don’t want you to do anything stupid.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, but then a cold mask replaced it, his eyes looking deadly. “First of all, you and I are not friends. This was a business relationship, no more, no less. Do not for one second think you mean a damn thing to me.”

  My chest tightened, and I tried to hide my shock, even though I knew he didn’t mean a single word of it. Just like Jed had warned me, he was lashing out. The problem was that he always knew exactly where to strike.

  “And second, I should kill you where you stand for insinuating I’m stupid. I’ve done a helluva lot more to men for lesser insults.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “If you don’t care about me, then why are you having Jed and Merv watch out for me?”

  “You are still my property,” he said, walking back to his desk. “You agreed to pose as the Lady in Black for six months.”

  My mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious.”

  He sat in his chair, lifting his face with a cold, hard stare. “Have you ever known me to joke?”

  I put my hand on my hip. “You think you can parade me out as the Lady in Black after everything that happened? What about Mason?”

  His eyes narrowed into slits. “Deveraux won’t say a word.”

  “Why not?”

  He turned to his computer and started typing.

  “Skeeter, why won’t he say anything?”

  An ugly sneer spread across his face as he lifted his head. “We’ve reached an agreement, and I’m sure he’ll keep his word.”

  A cold chill washed over me. “What did you do?” He turned back to his computer, and I stomped toward his desk, my hands fisted. “What did you do, Skeeter?”

  He turned to me, his eyes so cold I would have been frightened of him if I hadn’t known better. “I took care of my business and my property. Now get the hell out. I’ll call you when I need your services.”

  I wanted to shake some sense into him, but I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I turned around and stomped to the door. He was vastly mistaken if he thought I was going to play the Lady in Black ever again.

  “Lady,” he said, his voice just as chilly as before.

  I spun around to look at him.

  “Don’t come back here again. If you do, I’ll have you forcibly removed.”

  “Don’t you worry, Skeeter Malcolm. I’m never comin’ back here.” Just before I spun back around, I saw a wave of emotions wash over his face—pain, then triumph, followed quickly by a mask of indifference.

  As I walked out and slammed the door behind me, I realized I’d played right into his hands.

  Skeeter may have won this round, but I wouldn’t be so easily dissuaded.

  Though part of me wondered why I even cared.

  Chapter 6

  Jed was sitting at the bar when I emerged from the back, and he jumped up from his stool. I shot him a scowl.

  “I warned you,” he said, following me as I made my way toward the door.

  I shook my head. “I know. But I still had to see him.”

  “So who called you out in the parking lot?”

  Well, crappy doodles. “I never got a chance to tell him.”

  “Then tell me. Who called you?”

  “J.R.”

  “What?” he shouted loud enough to garner the attention of two guys shooting pool. One of the guys had been setting up his shot, but he stood upright at Jed’s outburst, pulling the pool cue back and stabbing his buddy in his oversized belly.

  Jed grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the door. “He called you right before you came in? What did he say?”

  “Oh, the usual,” I said, trying to play it off. “That he was coming for me . . . and Skeeter.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell Skeeter?”

  “I was goin’ to,” I said defensively. “Then he started calling me his property, and he ticked me off.”

  “I warned you that he was gonna lash out at you, so you’re going to march right back in there and tell him about that call.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. He made it very clear I’m not allowed to darken his doorstep again.”

  “You know he didn’t mean that.”

  “He looked very serious to me.”

  “Trust me. He’s gonna want to know about this.”

  “Fine,” I said in a huff, rolling back my shoulders. “If you think it’s so damn important, you go tell Skeeter. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s not new information. We already knew J.R. would have it out for me, and he’s been playing the long game with Skeeter for a while now. J.R. only called to confirm his mission hasn’t changed.”

  “But now we know for certain. We’ll step up surveillance.”

  “Why? So Skeeter doesn’t lose his valuable property?” I asked, feeling like a witch. Jed hadn’t done anything to deserve my attitude, and Skeeter had only acted out of self-preservation. But I wasn’t ready to see Skeeter right now—his words still stung. “You go tell him. I need to call Joe.”

  Jed grabbed my arm before I could make it out the door.

  I jerked against his hold. “Jed. Let me go.”

  He snorted. “You think tellin’ Baby Simmons is a good idea?”

  “And why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Who would you rather have watchin’ over you? Me and Merv or Simmons’s merry band of fools? Because you can’t have both.”

  I pushed out a frustrated sigh. I hated to admit he had a point. “Then I need to talk to Mason. He was the one who called Skeeter in the first place. I’ll let him decide.”

  Jed’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to let the man who left you make your decision for you?”

  Anger washed through me. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, Jed! I’m trying to keep from losing Mason.”

  “At the cost of your own life?”

  “Dammit, Jed!”

  But a grin spread across his face. “You know I’m right.”

  “Fine. You’re right. But I’m still going to call Mason. J.R. threatened him, too.”

  He gave me a hard stare. “I could take your phone. I could drag you back there to tell Skeeter in person.”

  “But you won’t,” I said, pressing my lips together. “Because you don’t think of me as Skeeter’s property. You know I have a brain in my head that I’m capable of using.”

  He released a grunt and pointed to the empty bar. “Sit there and wait for me.”

  I lifted my eyebrows in defiance.

  “Please sit there and wait for me. But before you consider walking out that front door alone, use that brain in your head to think about J.R.’s threat and how easy it would be for him to send someone to get you.”

  Shaking my head, I walked over to the bar and sat on a stool.

  Jed pointed a finger at the bartender. “Keep an eye on her. If she leaves, you get your ass back to Skeeter’s office to tell me.”

  The bartender swallowed hard, his face pale. “Yes, sir.” His gaze followed Jed as he disappeared into the back. “Can I get you something?” he finally asked me.

  “Water,” I said, pulling out my phone.

  He looked worried about what I might do with the phone, but he grabbed a glass and filled it with ice.

  I considered sending Mason a text, but I was certain this fell under the acceptable phone calls when you’re taking a break category.

  Mason answered before the second ring. “Rose, are you okay?”

  At least he didn’t think this was a pathetic attempt to garner his attention. “I’m fine, but I received a phone call about ten minutes ago that I think you should know about.�
��

  “Was it from Joe?”

  “No. But it was a Simmons.”

  “J.R.? How’d he get his hands on a phone?”

  “I have no idea, but he called to tell me he’s coming for me. And you.”

  “Where are you?” His voice was tight.

  I hesitated, but I’d sworn there would be no more secrets or lies between us. “At Skeeter’s pool hall. I came here to ask him to call Jed off for tonight.”

  “So Jed’s still pulling surveillance?” I was surprised by how relieved he sounded.

  “Yeah.”

  “We need to cancel dinner in Magnolia. It’s not safe.”

  That was no surprise, but I was still disappointed. “Yeah, I suspect you’re right.” I hesitated. No secrets. “There’s something else you need to know.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “When J.R. threatened to kill me, he said he was going to make Skeeter watch before he killed him, too.”

  He didn’t speak for several seconds. “I see.”

  “It’s probably because Skeeter helped arrange the whole thing.”

  “Rose. Don’t.” His harsh tone made me wince. “We both know that’s not why.”

  I couldn’t deal with Mason’s jealousy right now. “Jed doesn’t think I should tell Joe. He says Skeeter’s men can offer me better protection.”

  He was silent for several seconds. “There’s no denying that the Fenton County Sheriff’s Department isn’t great at protecting people. I agree that Jed and his associates are better equipped to keep you safe from Simmons. Which means we can’t tell Joe. And once again, I’m in a precarious situation.” He sounded professional at first, as if he were talking about a case, but he was openly furious by the time he finished.

  “Why are you getting so angry with me?” I demanded. “You’re the one who called Skeeter in the first place!”

  “But you’re the one who put us both in this situation!”

  I gasped. While he was right, he sounded so angry, so bitter that I knew in my heart he would never forgive me. I sucked in a breath and forced myself to sound strong. “Then let me make this easy for you, Mason. We’re over.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like. You have someone watching you, right? The sheriff’s department?”

  He sounded confused. “Yes, but that—”

  “So the only person whose safety you’re concerned about right now is mine, right? And that’s why you were forced to do something you didn’t want to do—legally and morally—by calling Skeeter and asking him to protect me. Am I right?”

  “Rose, you can’t pigeonhole it like that. You have to—”

  “True or false,” I said, surprised at my cold tone. “The only reason you called Skeeter Malcolm was because of my safety.”

  “Rose,” he said. “There was no way I could sit back—”

  “True or false?”

  “True.” I heard the defeat in his voice, and it took everything in me not to cry.

  “So the only reason you’re still entangled in the underworld is because of me.” I paused. “True or false?”

  “Rose.” The pain in his voice brought tears to my eyes.

  “Answer the question.”

  “Rose.”

  “I need you to answer, Mason. Just answer the damn question.”

  “True.” In all my life, I’d never heard so much defeat in one word.

  I took several breaths, trying to keep myself together. I had bigger issues to deal with than my silly love life. “Given everything goin’ on right now, I think you should wait to get your things.”

  “Rose. Don’t do this.”

  “Don’t do what? Advance the time table on the inevitable?” I choked out the last words. “You and I both know how stubborn you are. I broke us. We might try to put us back together, but we’ll never be the same.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I love you, Mason”—my voice cracked from my tears,— “and I’m so sorry.”

  “Rose, please, sweetheart.” He sounded so broken, I could hardly stand it.“Just think this through. Don’t make such an important decision at a time like this.”

  I suddenly had a newfound respect for Neely Kate’s decision. Somehow I’d landed myself in the same place. “You know I’m right.” I could do this. I would survive this. But I had to set him free. I leaned forward, resting my forehead on my hand. “From this moment on, I am no longer your responsibility. I will no longer call you with information or requests, unless they are completely legal in nature.”

  “Rose!” he pleaded, panicked.

  “I have only myself to blame for this. I know that, but I can’t undo it. I wish you a happy life, Mason,” I sobbed. “I want you to be happy.”

  “Rose! Sweetheart. Please, just listen to me! We can—”

  But I hung up and held the phone to my chest, knowing I’d done the right thing.

  Even if it had ripped my heart to shreds.

  Chapter 7

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about that phone call?” Skeeter shouted as he barreled around the corner toward me.

  The bartender jumped at the sound of Skeeter’s voice, his eyes widening in fright. He ducked behind the counter, grabbed a laminated menu from the counter, and held it over his head. One of the guys at the pool table in the corner froze while his buddy jerked his shirt sleeve, trying to get him to take cover under the pool table.

  Taking a deep breath, I wiped my face and turned to look at him. My phone vibrated in my hand, but I stood and shoved it into my pocket.

  “Because you were too busy treating me like your property,” I said.

  He paused in front of me, his upper lip curling in a sneer. “Have you been sitting out here crying?”

  “Cry over you?” I asked. “Don’t flatter yourself. I have far bigger issues than your PMS.”

  The exasperated look in his eyes told me that he wanted to counter my insult, but instead he motioned to my pocket and growled. “Did Simmons call you back?”

  “No. I called Mason—not that it’s any of your business. I wanted him to know about J.R.’s threat.” I could see a tantrum brewing, so I cut him off at the pass. “Calm down. He’s not going to tell Joe.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Because he won’t. He knows Jed is more qualified to protect me, so he doesn’t feel he can risk it. You know I’m right. Mason came to you last week.”

  He studied me for a moment before nodding his head. “We shouldn’t be discussing this out here. Come back to my office.”

  “What?” I demanded, putting my hands on my hips. “And risk getting thrown out?”

  His eyes darkened. “Rose.”

  I pointed my finger at him. “Don’t you Rose me. There’s nothing more for us to discuss, so I’m going back to work.”

  I started to spin around, but he snagged my arm and lowered his face to mine. “We’re not done,” he said.

  “Says you.” I shook off his hold.

  He tilted his head and gave me a look that told me he expected me to fall in line. “I’m taking you under my protection. I don’t give a rat’s ass what the D.A. says.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Wait. You discussed me going into hiding? With Mason?”

  His forehead furrowed. “We need to have this discussion in my office. Anyone can hear us.”

  I wasn’t sure who he thought was listening. The only patrons at the moment were the statue in the corner and his buddy, who was about to tip him over if he kept pulling on his shirtsleeve. “Answer the question, Skeeter!”

  “Yes, we had that discussion last week. He wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “Oh, my word!” I groaned. I spun away from him and shook my head in disbelief.

  Thinking better of it, I turned back and poked my finger into his chest. “Let me make something perfectly clear, Skeeter Malcolm.”

  He took a step back, his eyes wide in surprise. But I kept ja
bbing as I spoke. “I am my own person. You do not own me. Mason Deveraux does not own me. I own me. Do you get that?”

  A sly grin spread across his face. “If I say yes, will you stop poking me with your scrawny finger?” he asked.

  I gave him one last poke for good measure. “I expected better of you.”

  He rubbed his chest, wearing a smirk that made him look like a cat who’d caught a barn full of mice. But when that grin faded, it was replaced by a seriousness I’d only seen a few times. This was the real Skeeter Malcolm, the man hiding behind the bravado, and I was fairly certain he didn’t show it to many people.

  “You’re right. I should have discussed this with you, not him.”

  I nodded sharply, then pushed out a breath. “Thank you.”

  “But I really do think you should let me put you up in a safe house.”

  “For how long? J.R. could be a threat for years.”

  He shook his head. “No. Simmons will be dealt with sooner rather than later. The real question is whether or not your boyfriend will let you go.”

  I narrowed my eyes. It was easier to mask my pain with anger. “In case you haven’t realized, this is the twenty-first century. This is my decision, not his. And I’m not going. I could be there for years. I don’t have time for that nonsense.”

  He leaned closer again, his voice low. “I could protect you better there.”

  I looked up into his dark eyes. “Are you going, too?”

  Skeeter snorted as if I’d asked him if he were joining a mime troupe. “Hell, no.”

  I shook my head and took a step back. “Then neither am I.”

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t make things easy for me, do you?”

  “No one asked you to watch over me.” When he started to protest, I scowled. “I never asked you to watch me.”

  “If you think I’m leaving you alone, then you’ve got another think coming.”

  The fact that he cared made me feel better, a little less broken, like spackle over a gaping hole, and when I spoke again it was in a softer tone.“I really do need to get back to work.”