Sucking in a huge breath as he parked, he turned to face her. “Doll, I’m sorry. You’re the only one who can make a positive identification right now.”
“Dead? She’s dead?”
Shane walked out of the building and seeing them both in the vehicle, he started for the passenger door. Jobe hopped out and rounded the SUV, assisting her out.
“I…I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered.
He pulled her close, tucking her into his side as he shook Shane’s hand and gave a head nod to Matt.
“Baby, I’ll be with you every moment. I swear if there were another way, I’d do it.”
Thirty minutes later, they retraced their steps back to the SUV, this time his arms held her trembling body. He assisted her into the vehicle, buckled her in and rounded the front.
As they drove in silence, her numbness wearing off, she said, “Can you take me to Jennifer’s?”
He glanced to the side, willing to do anything and pulled out his phone, dialing Gabe. As soon as it was answered, he said, “Jennifer home? Can we come by?” “Yeah, Mackenna needs to talk to her. We’ve been at the morgue. One of her girls ended up here.” After a quick goodbye, he changed directions heading out to Gabe and Jennifer’s subdivision.
Pulling up to a neat, two-story house with a fenced in yard they turned into the driveway. Jennifer’s brother, Ross, was outside tossing a ball with Gabe.
“Jennifer’s inside, Mackenna,” he called out.
Jobe nodded and walked her up to the front door. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I’ll be right out here, doll.”
Before she could nod, the door flung open and she was embraced in Jennifer’s hug.
“Mac! Oh honey, come on in.” Jennifer gave a small smile to Jobe and then shut the door after ushering Mackenna into the kitchen, seating her at the breakfast bar.
“Okay, Mac. I’ve got beer or wine. Or if you prefer, I can make a mean cocktail.”
Mackenna had to smile at her friend’s penchant for trying to fix everything. “I think this calls for wine. We’ll save the cocktails for a celebration.”
“Right,” Jennifer said, pulling out the bottles and glasses.
Lifting an eyebrow, Mackenna asked, “How much wine are you planning on us drinking?”
“Honey, that all depends on how much talking we’ve got to do. So start spilling!”
Moving to the living room, settling into the comfortable sofa, Mackenna began doing just that. She told her about the problems with the New Beginnings Center and ended with the trip to the morgue.
Jennifer listened carefully and by the time Mackenna got to the end, she was shaking her head in sympathy. “Oh, Mac. How horrible for you to have to do that.”
Lifting her gaze to her friend, Mackenna said, “You know, the morgue wasn’t even like in the movies. They had me sign in, fill out forms on how I knew Teresa and then they showed me a picture of her face. I was able to identify her from that and told them so.”
“Oh, thank God you didn’t have to actually see the body,” Jennifer said, leaning forward to grasp Mackenna’s hand.
Squeezing Jennifer’s fingers in response, she said, “Jennifer, is it all worth it? I thought so. I went into social work to make a difference. To help others. I was so interested in women’s studies and empowering women. The more I learned about how to assist women in moving from poverty to productive lives and then learned about breaking the cycle of gang women, that’s all I wanted to do.”
“You are doing that, Mac. You have to know you’re making a difference.”
“I’ve got one girl who was taken away because she was witness to a horrible gang crime and who knows what the safehouse will allow her to do to keep her studies up. I’ve got a girl who has now confessed to being pregnant by a gang leader, who may be the one behind the drive-by shooting of my house. I now have another one that was kidnaped on the way to a job interview and was killed, before being dumped literally at the door of a gang. And to top it off, I have two others that are now thinking of leaving because they are scared of retribution. And that was before what happened to Teresa!”
Tossing back the rest of the wine in her glass, Mackenna leaned forward and poured another drink. She looked over at Jennifer and shook her head. “Pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”
“Nope. Not at all,” Jennifer stated. “I see in front of me a tireless, active, fellow social worker who is burning out due to being in a high-stress environment.”
“Good God, you sound like one of our professors!”
“I know, but I now know that they knew what they were talking about. Almost fifty percent of social workers suffer from job-related stress and burnout. Look, Mac. You’re making a difference, but right now all you can see is the negative. Tell me, how many girls have you had go through the center and actually graduate to jobs outside the gang system?”
“We’ve been open about eight months and have had seventeen girls finish the program and move out after their three months are up. And we currently have six more.”
“How many failures have you had? And that does not include the girl who had to leave for crime witness protection.”
“Just two who decided after a week that they wanted to go back to the life.”
“Mac, you’re running a program that is so far at about a ninety percent success rate. That is amazing. Think of those seventeen girls who are out of a gang and living productive lives.”
“I know, but…”
“But what?”
“Will you think less of me if I confess that I’m kind of scared? Now that I understand more of what I was up against when I went running out onto the stoop with a baseball bat, I’m terrified.”
Finishing her glass, Jennifer poured another one for herself also. “You should be scared. Hell, Mac, I’m just working with a darling group of senior citizens. I would be petrified to go up against gangs.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t my intent. When I started the center, I stupidly thought that as long as the girls left the gang and came to us, then their old lives would be left behind. And for the first months, that’s what happened. But now, it seems like we are definitely on the gang’s radar. And that makes me wonder about the future success of what I’m doing.”
The two women sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, letting the wine relax them a little. Mackenna finally said, “I just keep seeing that picture in my mind. When Teresa left for the interview, Carla said she looked great. New haircut, the professional clothes. Even one of the other girls did a little makeup for her.” She gazed at Jennifer over her glass and said, “She was on her way to start a new life. And didn’t deserve to end up as a photo that someone should have to look at to identify.”
“No, she didn’t,” Jennifer agreed. “But, that’s not your fault, Mac. That’s the responsibility of the people who actually did that. And why your work is so important. For every horrible case like Teresa, there will be so many more that you can save, train, and they are successful.”
The two finished their second glasses of wine and walked to the kitchen to place them in the sink. Mackenna gazed out the window as the evening sky was darkening. “I’ve kept the men out too long.”
“Oh, posh, Gabe and Ross could stay out there all night. I’m just glad that you wanted to come here and Jobe brought you.”
The two embraced in the kitchen before Jennifer pulled back and looked at her friend. “Mac, here’s what this social worker thinks. You need a break. You need to take care of you or you’ll suffer burnout. And I would hate to see the profession lose a talented counselor.”
They walked out on the front porch, looking at their men. Mackenna admired Jobe’s physique as he tossed and ran with the ball. The old, familiar feeling swept over her and she was transported back about seven years ago when she watched him play ball on the beach with some of their friends. Knowing then that he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And now? Can I possibly feel that again with
all the craziness swirling around? She gave herself a mental shake as the men made their way to the porch.
Jennifer kissed Ross’ head as she told him to head inside to take a shower. Then she turned to Gabe, who wrapped his large frame around his tiny wife. His eyes found Mackenna’s and he sent her a questioning gaze.
Mackenna smiled and nodded, gaining a head jerk back from him. Jobe noticed, glad that she had Jennifer to talk to, as he kissed her forehead before pulling her in for a hug as well.
“Jobe?” Jennifer called. As he turned toward her, she said, “Professionally and personally speaking, Mac is facing some burnout. It’d be good if you two could get away for the weekend.”
Jobe smiled at his friend’s wife, loving that she cared about Mackenna as well. “Sounds like a plan,” he responded.
The four friends said their goodbyes as Jobe loaded Mackenna back into the truck. Driving home, he said, “What do you think about Jennifer’s getaway idea?”
“You know, I believe I’d really like it. You mom told me that she wants Penny to stay as long as she can. Your mom likes the company and I think she also likes that Miriam comes by every day. I talked to my mom and she’s happy for now with your parents. I was going to go to my house to sort things out today when all the craziness happened. Maybe a couple of days away would be good.”
“You got anywhere special you want to go?”
Smiling at him, she shook her head. “Nope. Surprise me.”
Returning her grin, he said, “That I can do, doll. That I can do.”
Chapter 15
The four men sat down at a scarred table in the back room of a dingy bar, eyes darting around, carefully noting everyone’s positions. Four other men stood behind the ones seated, their eyes just as alert. Two men stood on their side of the door, feet apart and arms crossed.
Tito waited. He did not call the meeting but expected it just the same. The leader of the River Street Kings, Goldie Washington, sat across from him, his gaze penetrating. Suddenly Goldie smiled and Tito knew where the nickname came from. The man had had every one of his teeth fully capped in gold. The brilliant yellow glistened against his dark skin, creating an otherworldly appearance and Tito was glad he had been warned. Otherwise it would have unsettled him—exactly what Goldie wanted the effect to be.
“You left us a present,” Goldie stated, referring to Teresa’s body.
“Thought you’d appreciate it.”
“Dicks got her when we threw out the trash.”
Tito’s eyes grew dark at this admission. He had planned on the Kings disposing of the girl’s body somewhere where she would not be found by the police. “That was careless,” he growled.
His gaze caught the miniscule movement of the King’s men in the room immediately followed by the same from his men. He did not take his eyes off of Goldie, but with a slight jerk of his head he communicated to Jazzie to stand down. The last thing he needed was for the Kings to go on the offensive.
He softened his voice slightly as he amended his last statement, “But then a gift is for you to do whatever the fuck you want to with it.”
Goldie eyed him a moment and then broke into laughter. The other men in the room, still wary, seemed to relax.
“You looking to do business or just givin’ a gift for the fuck of it?” Goldie inquired as his mirth died down.
Tito then smiled, knowing the preliminaries were successfully out of the way. Jazzie sat next to him, comfortable that Tank and Waldo standing behind them would see to their safety.
“Moving into guns. Looking to see what you need. Thought you’d be interested in a business arrangement.”
“I got guns,” Goldie replied defensively.
“You got what you take. You got guns you use. But unless I’ve been told wrong, you ain’t got new shit to sell.”
At this, Goldie’s gaze penetrated Tito’s carefully, looking for a sign of disrespect. Tito held firm. The air in the room became charged again, each man assessing the climate.
Tito opened his hands on the table in a gesture of conciliation. “No dis, King-man, but the Sixers are moving into other areas besides the C-game and pussy,” indicating wanting more income than just cocaine and prostitution.
Goldie sat for a moment, his mind racing with the possibilities. The Kings were growing, but he knew that a collaboration with another successful organization could open doors for them. But he was suspicious. “Why the Kings?”
“Easy,” Tito answered. “You own the riverfront. That’s prime. We’d like to use it for transport when needed. You give us access…you get what you need. Win-win.”
Goldie sat silent for a moment, slowly nodding his head. “More. You got more than that.”
Tito smiled knowing the King-man was not stupid. “Fuckin’ pigs are closin’ in. Stepped up in my area.” Seeing Goldie’s eyebrow lift, he continued, “Nothin’ we can’t deal but with the new business, we need a new place to get shipments. You give us access, we give you guns.” Holding his gaze steady again, he repeated, “Win-win.”
The brilliant gold smile split the King’s leader’s face as he nodded. “Like it. Gotta talk to my boys, but you’ll hear.”
Tito smiled in return, still cautious knowing his rival could not be trusted entirely. “Don’t got forever. Got a package waiting to come in.”
“Our seconds can deal,” Goldie announced.
Tito’s head jerked toward Jazzie, then he nodded in agreement. Goldie did the same to his second.
Goldie hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Where’d you find our present?”
“Cunt was hiding out. A place on 91st street. Some bitch’s got a place for our bitches to hide if they want.”
Goldie heard more than the words Tito had spoken. Cocking his head to the side, he asked, “You got any bitches there? You need the marker?”
Tito shook his head. “We got it. We’re taking care of the whole fuckin’ place.”
The men stood, clasped hands in a semblance of a shake and left the room, leaving the two seconds and two lieutenants behind.
*
Days later another group of men gathered around a table, the atmosphere completely different. Jobe, Tony, Gabe, Vinny, BJ, and Lily sat with Shane and Matt as they discussed the recent events.
Shane looked up, saying, “Chief needs Alvarez Security again.”
Tony gave a slight nod, knowing that the detectives already knew that whatever was needed would be given.
“We’re hitting the gangs hard right now. Finding where they meet and shutting them down. If we can find them with guns, stolen goods, or drugs, we’re charging them with that.”
“It’s causing some unrest on the streets, but most of the citizens are applauding the police crackdown,” Matt added.
“But?” Jobe prodded, unable to keep quiet knowing Mackenna was in the thick of things.
“We’re stressed staff-wise, doing all we can. We’d like to run some of the data through BJ and Lily’s databases and see if we can narrow our focuses down a little. The main players are not leaving, just moving deeper underground. Hideouts we don’t have a finger on yet. And the word out is that the Sixers have moved into guns.”
“How do the Kings figure into it all?” Tony asked.
“Never been good blood between those two but seems like they may be moving toward a detente. At least for now. Protection for both and widens their areas. But, gotta tell you, I’d be surprised if either trusts the other much.”
“Besides BJ and Lily, anything else you need?”
Matt and Shane’s gazes cut over to Jobe and he stiffened.
“Know you’ve got eyes on Mackenna’s center. After looking at the kidnapping and murder of Teresa, knowing that Tito’s pregnant ex-girlfriend is there, and Mac’s on their radar…”
“Got her and them covered,” Jobe declared.
Nodding, Shane said, “Knew you did. But the chief wants to make sure you’re in the loop.”
Jobe felt his heart pound unch
aracteristically and the familiar feeling of losing control of a mission swept through him. Pulling in a deep breath, he let it out slowly utilizing one of the methods taught by the counselor in dealing with stress. Fuck, I’ve gotta stay cool. He could feel the eyes of his comrades on him and it pissed him off. “I’ve got this,” he growled.
“What’s going on?” Tony asked, turning the attention back to the detectives.
Shane hesitated. “The dead girl had words carved into her stomach. The bitch is next.”
At that, the air in the room changed. The temperature dropped. Ice. Cold.
“At first, it was assumed by the homicide detectives that it was just a random threat, but they had nothing to tie it to.”
“And now?” Jobe asked, his voice barely recognizable to himself as he sat up straighter, hands clenched into fists.
“Got intel that says it’s about some woman who’s running a center. Something to do with the Sixer’s leader’s girlfriend.”
“Fuck!” Jobe growled as he stood quickly, his chair falling backward in his haste. He started around the table to head toward the door when his way was suddenly blocked by the massive twins.
Looking at his two best friends, he said menacingly, “You do not want to be in my way, bros.”
Tony stood quietly and turned toward the men squaring off next to him. “Stand down, all of you.”
The stance of the three barely relaxed, but the military training was too hard to ignore. Jobe’s body was locked, his mind centered on one thing and that was taking Tito Montalvo down.
“Jobe, I gotta have your head in the mission.”
Jobe’s gaze cut over to his former Captain’s, seeing understanding, not censure. But also a determined stare that brooked no question.
“We got Terrance, Doug, and two others in the surveillance room twenty-four seven watching the center, along with our other video feed contracts. You know Mackenna agreed to talk to the residents and those that have business outside the center are getting escorts. We’ve grown and got the manpower to take care of it.”
Jobe: Alvarez Security Series Page 15