Kicking the Habit

by Kari Lee Townsend

  “We had no choice, Cece,” Ace stopped chewing long enough to say. “He has a gun license, and he wasn’t breaking the law. I’m more concerned about his warnings to you. I think he knows more than he’s letting on.” He popped another French fry into his mouth.

  “I’m fine.” Cece brushed off his concern. “No one can get to me now that you’re my shadow.”

  “I’m no more bulletproof than you are, Sister.” He offered her a fry when he noticed she wasn’t eating, but she declined. Her appetite was nonexistent, her stomach filled with worry. “My gut doesn’t lie either, and it’s definitely telling me something’s off.”

  He scanned the diner for the millionth time. His outward demeanor always looked relaxed, but Cece knew better. His shoulders had a slight stiffness to them, and his eyes never stopped moving. She felt safe with him. If someone were to take a shot at her again, he’d see it coming.

  The front door chimed, and the detective’s gaze shot in that direction. Almost instantly he relaxed, and a slight smile tipped up the corners of his lips. “Hey, Benny. Long time, no see. That’s a good thing in my world. Keeping your nose clean these days I hope.” He still razzed Benny good, but there was less sarcasm and bite to his words ever since they’d called a truce of sorts.

  “You know it.” Benny pointed his large, meaty finger at the detective and tipped his gleaming, brown head, looking all spruced up; then he winked at Cece. “Thank you, Sister.”

  “It’s Cece, remember?” She smiled kindly, curiously wondering what had brought about his obvious glow. His clothes were clean and pressed; his hat was missing; and she could smell his aftershave from where she sat.

  “Right, my bad.” He took her hand and kissed it like a true gentleman. Ace frowned but didn’t say a word as Benny added, “Thank you, Cece.”

  She could feel her cheeks heat. “For what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “For all of your help.” His gaze shot to the counter and softened like the butter on Millie’s warm Italian bread. Millie blushed to the roots of her rich, dark hair, but smiled back shyly. “Millie has agreed to give me a shot. We have a date tomorrow night when she gets off work.”

  “Benny, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy things are looking up for you, both with the brewpub and with Millie. I believe in karma. When you do good, good will come your way.”

  “Vice versa, Sister.” The charming sparkle in Benny’s eyes faded, replaced by a scary hard edge. “When I find the person who hurt you, I’ll—”

  “Do nothing,” Ace interjected, donning a firm no-nonsense look of his own. “Unless you care to find yourself back in trouble and dateless. Do I make myself clear?”

  Cece watched Benny’s jaw clench in his effort to control his anger, and she knew Ace didn’t like anyone telling him how to do his job. Would their newfound truce end so soon?

  “You’re lucky I like you,” Benny finally said, and then growled, “You’d better keep her safe, Detective.”

  “That’s the plan, Parker.” A muscle in the detective’s jaw bulged as he threw down some money and stood. “Enjoy your date. You ready, Watson? We’ve got work to do.” He held out his hand.

  Cece took it and stood. “It was great to see you again, Benny. Stop in my clinic any time.”

  “Will do. You take care now.” He wandered over to the counter, his anger gone as quickly as it had arrived when he spotted the object of his desire. He sat down with a massive grin on his face and fell into conversation with one very happy Millie Sherwood.

  Cece followed Ace outside with satisfaction in her heart. A blast of chilly air caused her to suck in a sharp breath. She let go of his hand and clutched the opening of her pea coat closed. “I bet we have snow by Halloween.”

  Ace grunted. “Halloween. Now there’s a holiday I could do without.”

  “Worried Granny will find a way to make one of her spells work on you?” Cece couldn’t help but tease him a bit.

  “Something like that.” They started walking toward his truck, when he pulled out his keys and held them up with his thumb on a button.

  “What’s that?”

  “My new toy.” He beamed. His truck was his prized possession, and that included any gadgets that went with it. “A remote car starter so I won’t have to freeze my as—” he shot a guilty look at her “—butt off anymore this winter. Care to do the honors?”

  “Wow, you’re letting me touch your truck?”

  “Only from afar. I’ve seen you drive, remember?”

  “Very funny,” she mimicked his words.

  “I try,” he copied back.

  Cece smirked, then snatched the keys from him and pointed them at his truck, firmly pressing the button.

  A loud explosion boomed, and Ace’s truck burst into flames. Cece screamed as they were both thrown backward by the force from the blast. She hit the grass hard, just beyond the blacktopped driveway, and the wind whooshed out of her lungs. Air. She needed air. It felt like forever before blessed oxygen filled her lungs. She sucked in breath after breath, and finally the world around her stopped spinning. She remembered where she was and what had just happened, then scrambled to her knees.

  Ace lay still beside her, flat on his back on the pavement. He had a small cut on his forehead and a piece of metal lay about a foot away. Her heart started pounding in her chest. She laid her fingertips at his throat and could have cried when she felt a strong heartbeat. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, but his eyes remained closed. He was alive, and right now that was enough.

  “Ace, can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  “Please, Detective, wake up.”

  Still nothing.

  “I could be in danger,” she said in a desperate plea.

  Not so much as a twitch.

  Without thinking, she placed her hands on either side of his cheeks and pressed her lips firmly against his in a frantic effort to gain a response. His eyes sprang open, and he sat up all in one motion, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Then just as quickly he let go of her, grabbed his head, and groaned. “What the hell happened?”

  “A bomb went off,” she said carefully.

  His gaze locked onto hers, and he froze. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just had the breath knocked out of me because I landed on the grass, but you were out cold for a while until I …” She felt the heat all the way to her ringing ears. “Anyway, you’re awake now. How’s your head? You hit the pavement pretty hard. You might have a concussion.”

  “Wait, back up.” His confused eyes searched hers. “Bomb?”

  She bit her bottom lip and slowly nodded.

  “Where?” His face transformed into an expression of dread as he awaited her response.

  “Your truck,” she squeaked.

  Pain or no pain, he surged to his feet and spun in the direction where he’d parked his truck. “Son of a bitch!” He stared at the burning pile of rubble and doubled over to catch his breath. “Not my truck,” he muttered more to himself.

  “I swear it wasn’t my fault,” she rushed to say. “Do you think it could have been a faulty remote car starter?”

  “Not a chance. That bomb was planted. Looks like being bulletproof is the least of our worries. What I don’t get is why the sniper who killed the senator and has been taking potshots at you suddenly changed his M.O.”

  “Maybe because it wasn’t working for him. We are both still alive, after all.”

  “For now.” Ace looked concerned, the wrinkles in his forehead knitting deep. “Maybe his methods weren’t working for his boss. Whoever hired him is changing the game. If we don’t stop them soon, there’s no telling what they’ll do next.”

  Ace stepped away to call the incident in, when Cece noticed blood on the ground. At first she thought it was from the cut on the detective’s head, but then she noticed a trail. Following the faint trail, she wandered just a few feet away to a dumpster. Peeking inside, her stomach heaved. She knew exactly what they would
do next, and she’d been right. Something terrible had happened today, but not to Li or to them. A man she didn’t recognize lay flat on his back with a bullet between the eyes, the same way the senator had died.

  Except this man had a pack of Clove cigarettes in his pocket.

  Chapter 14

  Friday morning Ace and Cece sat in his office in the police station, waiting for Rocco. The walls were white, with no pictures or anything personal. Just a desk, a couple of chairs, and a filing cabinet. Cece couldn’t tell whether it was because he didn’t want to talk about his family or maybe didn’t want anyone he was questioning to have something to use against him. Candy had told her his parents were divorced, and he’d moved away with his mother after some scandal had happened. When he finally moved back, his father was gone, leaving behind no forwarding address. Something told her that whatever had happened was linked to Ace’s issues with the church.

  One wall was all windows and looked out into the station. Ace closed the blinds and sat on the edge of his desk, sighing wearily. He had on his usual dress shirt, tie, and faded jeans, with his sport coat draped over a chair. Cece had also worn one of the only pairs of jeans she owned, with a soft sweater, but she’d chosen to leave her hair long and loose after living through an explosion meant to kill them both. She sat in a chair in the corner and waited for his partner to arrive. Even in the quiet room, you could still hear the hum of conversation and activity happening in the busy station outside the door.

  “What did the doctor say, Jackass,” Rocco asked, as he marched through the office door and kicked it closed behind him with the heel of his snakeskin boot.

  “That I have a concussion, ass-wipe,” Ace retorted, rolling his head and stretching his neck.

  “Your ass is concussed? Well, I’ll be damned,” Rocco snickered.

  “You’re not damned. You’re a moron, is what you are,” Ace muttered.

  “I’d call you ‘gentlemen,’ but right now you’re both acting more like boys,” Cece said, reminding Ace of her presence.

  “Sorry, Sister,” Ace said, looking startled for a moment.

  How on earth had he forgotten she was right there, Cece wondered. His partner was a bad influence on him, for sure.

  “What he said—me too,” Rocco added, looking contrite as he smoothed his slicked-back hair. “We meant no offense. Some habits are hard to break.”

  “I appreciate the effort,” Cece responded. “I’ll pray for you.”

  “And I’d appreciate some answers.” Ace quickly changed the subject.

  “Victim’s name was Lou Castanza.” Rocco checked his notes. “Your grandmother called the police station this morning when she saw his picture on the news.”

  “You’re kidding?” Cece said, floored and a little worried. “Um, how exactly did she know him?”

  “She saw him in the woods behind the mini-mart the morning of the senator’s death, when she was collecting squirrel’s tail and gun powder.”

  “So that’s why she kept insisting you could find gun powder at the mini-mart.” Ace looked over his own notes. “Right time and place, as well as the clove cigarettes. Is he our sniper?”

  “Sure is. He was staying at the local motel. We searched it about an hour ago and found the same weapon used to kill the senator.”

  “Does he have any connections to Sloan?” Ace asked.

  “None, but he has a record a mile long. He’s known for being involved in shady jobs for hire. This is the first murder where he’s gotten caught, but who knows how many he’s gotten away with?”

  “Yet he changed his M.O. That doesn’t make sense. He’s a sniper, not a bomb maker.”

  “The question is, who hired him?” Cece asked, seeing the surprise on Ace’s face. She was good at being silent, listening and observing. She could tell it unnerved him.

  “Good question,” he responded, recovering quickly. “Let’s see where we are. What have you found out, Rocco?”

  “Okay, so we have Li and Eleanor. Did either of them hire Lou to off the senator because they loved him and didn’t want him with anyone else? Neither one has an alibi,” Rocco pointed out, pacing as he talked.

  “True, but Walker the janitor didn’t have an alibi either, plus he has gun knowledge and connections. He would know where to find a man like Lou. He also didn’t like the senator or his politics. Maybe he wanted to get rid of him so his opponent could win. He seems the most likely suspect, but there’s nothing concrete to tie him to the crime.” Ace jotted something down in his notebook.

  “Councilwoman Reynolds was at a campaign event, so it couldn’t be her. Mayor Evans was in a secret meeting with Sloan Sr., so he has an alibi; it couldn’t be him either. Sloan’s wife says she was at home while her children went to school, so she couldn’t have done it. Her staff is vouching for her, although money can buy off hired help pretty easily. But any one of those three could have hired a hit man to do the job for them.”

  “Rocco has been looking into other leads while I’ve been protecting you,” Ace said by way of explanation. “It was the only way I could keep him away from Candy. Let’s just say I owed her.”

  “Don’t let her fool ya.” Rocco stopped pacing and pointed at Ace. “The woman wants me. She just doesn’t know it yet.” Then he wagged his brows on a cheesy grin to Cece.

  “Oh brother, don’t even get him going,” Ace said to Cece, and then he focused on his partner. “So what’d you find out? Anything new?”

  “You’re not gonna believe this,” Rocco replied, all business once more, “but I know why the mayor was blackmailing Sloan Sr.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense. What is it?” Ace stood, no longer able to sit still.

  “He’s old man Sloan’s illegitimate son from when he cheated on his wife, making the mayor the senator’s half-brother. That’s how Evans has such nice things. Sloan Sr. bought him off to keep him quiet. He didn’t want anything ruining his son’s campaign.”

  “How does the councilwoman play into this?” Ace asked, sitting back down in stunned silence.

  Cece could relate. Lord only knew what other interesting secrets the people in this town were hiding.

  “The mayor got greedy. He sold the info to the councilwoman—that Sloan Sr. was buying votes for his son’s campaign. She discovered the mayor was also blackmailing the old man, so she turned the tables on them both and threatened to expose the scandal to the media.”

  “Then why didn’t she?” Ace’s brow knit as he tried to make sense of it all.

  “Because she has goodness in her heart,” Cece said, attempting to keep the hope alive that all people had at least some level of good within them.

  “Sorry, Sister, but not exactly,” Rocco clarified. “More like she had a scandal of her own.”

  “That’s what I was afraid you were going to say.” Cece’s shoulders slumped a bit.

  “No sh—I mean, no way,” Ace said, refusing to glance at her and let her know the influence she had over him, but she knew better. At least she was having a positive impact on one person in this town.

  “Reynold’s stance is pro-life. She’s happily married with children now, but when I did some digging, I discovered she’s at odds with her sister. Let’s just say I have a way with women. It didn’t take much charming to get her sister to admit that Sloan Senior paid her for the dirt on the councilwoman. If the fact that she had an abortion when she was sixteen leaked out, her political career would be ruined,” Rocco said.

  “That’s why they keep meeting,” Ace interjected. “They’re trying to find a way to buy each other’s silence. No one is honest these days. What a clusterfu—mess,” he amended hastily mid-sentence.

  “You’re telling me,” Rocco responded, giving him a knowing look. “And I thought our job was nuts.”

  “Well, I personally think you’re both being a little judgmental and unfair,” Cece added, putting in her two cents.

  “Judgmental?” Ace asked.

  “Unfair?” Rocco added, an
d they both stared at Cece.

  “All of these people have more to them than the trouble they are in. Everyone has a past, and many of us have secrets we’d rather not have leak out.” Cece looked them each in the eye until they squirmed. “The point is we don’t have all of the facts yet.”

  “No, but we do still have a murderer on the loose. People are not as good as you think, Sister,” Ace responded.

  “I know, but people are also not as bad as you think either.”

  “And let’s not forget, someone is trying to kill you both,” Rocco chimed in.

  “I’m not likely to forget that any time soon,” Ace rubbed the bump on his head and then added, “especially since the rental car they gave me is the size of a postage stamp.”

  “So where does that leave us?” Cece asked.

  “Running out of time,” Rocco answered.

  “With a whole lot of nothing,” Ace finished.

  ***

  In a stunning turn of events, on Saturday morning the church janitor Mumfry Walker turned himself in. Ace and Cece watched through the one-way mirror as the Federal Agents, Wallace and Rogers, questioned him in a room with no windows, a single table, and a few chairs. Mumfry sat on one side, and Wallace and Rogers sat across from him, with the man’s signed confession on the table before them.

  “Let me get this straight,” Wallace said, removing his sunglasses and cleaning them while he scanned the confession and talked to Mumfry. “You’re confessing to the crimes of murdering Senator Sloan, Lou Castanza, and attempting to murder Cece Monroe and Detective Ace Jackson?”

  “That’s right.” Mumfry shrugged, looking cleaner and more put together than Ace had ever seen him, in what looked to be brand new clothes, and without so much as breaking a sweat or looking concerned in the least. He certainly didn’t act like a typical guilty man, filled with remorse and concern about the outcome of his future.

  “You sure you don’t want to wait for your lawyer?” Rogers asked, staring at the man with a raised brow and a bit of disbelief.