Smiling, he turned on the futon, and lay with his hands behind his head. His feet extended over the end by a foot. “Aww Ruby, you were never helpless,” he said lazily and yawned. “You just didn’t believe that at the time.”
“Then why do you need to stay?” I challenged; the thought of Tom staying overnight sent quivers of nervousness through my chest. This was the total opposite of how I’d planned to deal with him.
“Because you’re right…this isn’t Dresden,” Tom answered and his face was serious. “We aren’t dealing with a delinquent kid, this is more dangerous. In fact, it’s deadly, and you refuse to see it.”
My gaze flitted to the boarded up windows, and I suppressed a shudder. Lilah’s bloody car, my own sore neck, the pain was adding up. I could see Tom wasn’t leaving, and a tiny part of me was relieved to not be here alone. “There’s only the one futon, though.”
“I can share.” He grinned broadly and extended his arms out to me.
“Ha,” I said and pushed his legs off with my foot. The momentum rolled him to the floor with a thud. “If you want to stay, then you get the floor.”
He looked up at me a grinned.
I turned away, silently railing against his dang dimples.
An hour later, lying awake in the dark, I listened to the steady in and out of Tom’s breathing. I turned on my side and looked at him lying on the floor, a thin sheet over him, rolled towels for a pillow. The blue light from the alarm clock on the desk cast his features in a pale glow. My gaze went to the gun he’d taken out of his ankle holster. It rested on the floor next to his head. Confusion and longing rolled over me. My heart pulled in his direction ever so slightly.
“Ruby,” he whispered, startling me.
How long had he known I was staring at him?
I wiped my eyes quickly, turning onto my back to peer at the ceiling. “Yeah, Tom?”
“This is more than when we were kids...”
I sniffled, not able to answer without crying. He sounded sad, as if his throat hurt like mine did right now.
“I believe in my bones that we won’t end the same way we did back then,” he murmured.
“I-I can’t…”
His hand slipped up and grasped mine. “That’s OK, Ruby. You believed for the both of us once. It’s my turn.”
I covered my mouth with my free hand, desperate to keep my sobs from his ears.
14
I woke up to the smell of coffee and donuts. Tom sat at the end of the futon; he held my feet in his lap. He smiled when I stirred, his mouth full of donut. Reaching onto the desk nearby, he grabbed a foam cup, and held it out to me.
“Hey, Beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I pushed up to a sitting position, took the coffee, and smiled.
“I don’t know how you take it,” he said and seemed a bit sad about that. “I got all the stuff though.”
He handed me the cardboard carrying tray. Piled with creamers, sugars, and all the types of sweeteners, it looked like he’d cleaned out the coffee house’s bins.
“You’ve been busy.” I rooted around in the pile, collecting all of the sugar packets.
Nodding, he sipped his coffee quietly, his eyes down.
“You OK?” I asked between bites of donut.
Tom turned to me, serious. “Ruby, will you at least let me see the paperwork that Lilah was talking about?”
“Sure. I meant to take a look at it myself, but I haven’t had a chance.” I got to my feet, conscious of how crazy my hair must look. Trying to smooth it with my forearm, I only managed to drop flecks of donut glaze on myself. I set the coffee and donut on the desk and looked in Lilah’s drawer. It was right on top. Sitting down, I opened it and scanned the papers. She had highlighted some lines, but I didn’t know why. I held the folder out to Tom.
“Have at it. You really think there’s a connection?”
“I do.” Tom flipped through the papers. Creasing his brows, he muttered to himself. He closed the folder and glanced up. “I want to run this by a buddy of mine. Can I take it for today?”
“Uh, sure, I doubt the company will call today anyway.”
“Do you work today?”
“Yeah, at the shelter.” I stretched, yawning my answer.
He went back to the file, flipping the pages. “I’ll get this back to you tonight.”
I took another bite of the donut, watching him. His face looked stronger than I remembered, more angular. He had a perfect movie star jaw line. No longer as lean as in his teens, he’d put on some muscle and it suited him. I smiled, remembering how the other girls at Dresden used to look at him. I hadn’t thought it was possible for him to look more handsome. I was clearly wrong.
Tom looked up from the files, catching me gawking. “What are you thinking?”
“Oh, uh, you know, morning stuff.” I slurped down the last of my coffee, feeling awkward. “Thanks for staying last night.”
“I knew you’d thank me later.” Tom winked.
He used to tell me that after he’d talked me into one of his crazy ideas and we’d barely avoided trouble. “I hate it when you say that,” I said, but smiled.
“Do you—” A knock at the front door interrupted him.
Frowning, I glanced at the clock. It was only six thirty in the morning, too early for patients.
Face tense, Tom rose off the futon, his left hand going to the gun at his waist. “Are you expecting a visitor?”
“No, and Lilah wouldn’t knock. She has a key,” I whispered. “Should I answer?”
Nodding, Tom walked out in front of me. Hands hanging onto his waistband, I followed, heart pumping.
“We’re closed,” I shouted through the glass door.
“I saw your SUV out front, uh, I mean Renee’s,” Ben shouted back from outside. “I thought you could use some coffee.”
I pulled back from the door and looked at Tom. My stomach flopped.
“You gonna answer him?” He grinned at me from ear to ear and put his gun back in the holster at his waist.
My cheeks burned, which irritated me. I hadn’t done anything wrong. “OK, uh, hold on.” Turning to Tom, I pointed to the back of the clinic. “Go.”
“What, you want me to hide?” He chuckled softly.
“No, I want you to go over there and be quiet.” I hissed.
“Are you being serious?” Tom whispered. His eyes danced with amusement.
“Go, go, go.” I pointed repeatedly to the back of the clinic.
Ben tapped on the door. “Ruby? Are you OK in there?”
“Yeah Ben,” my voice squeaked. I eyed Tom’s retreat and then unlocked the bolt, pulling the door open.
Ben peered in and smiled. “Hi.” Not in uniform, he was holding a carrying tray and cups from the exact place that Tom had come from.
My stomach flopped again. “Hey, there.” I sounded like kid caught smoking in the girls room. “Uh, wow. Coffee, that’s really sweet of you.”
“Did you stay here all night?” Ben’s pulled his brows together.
“Uh, yeah, I must have fallen asleep.” I flushed and patted my hair with my hand.
“Oh, you might want to rethink doing that, Ruby. That can really dangerous.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So, uh, are you going to let me in?” Ben lifted the tray of coffee up
“Oh…sure.” I stepped back, pulling the door open.
“You always bring your pajamas to work in case you fall asleep?” Ben walked in and frowned when he looked at me.
I looked down. Baggy grey sweatpants and tank top hardly constituted proper pajamas. “No, uh, they’re just comfortable.”
“Sorry, Ruby. Once a cop, always a cop, I guess.”
“So, you’re off today?” I asked and tried to keep my eyes from darting to the back of the clinic. “No uniform.”
“Yeah, I’m off for the next two days.” Ben handed me a cup of coffee. “I got it like you like it; mostly cream and sugar, just enough coffee to make it fl
oat?”
“That’s right. How did you know that?”
“You had a few cups the other night on our date,” Ben said and frowned. “How is Lilah?”
“You know, I don’t know. I left her a few messages and haven’t heard back. Do you know if she’s called the lead detective guy?”
“No, she hasn’t. Detective Riley is my cousin-in-law; is that right? Uh, he’s married to my cousin. Anyway, he’s the lead and he hasn’t heard from either Lilah or Brooklyn.”
“Huh. She was due to be back today, but like I said, she hasn’t called me back.”
Ben sipped his coffee and leaned against the reception counter. “I really wish I could talk to that DEA friend of yours. I wonder what he knows about all this. They might have some Intel we need to solve Dakota’s murder.”
“You-you guys think it’s murder?”
“Ah, I was just talking to Riley last night at dinner. We all have dinner at my mom’s once a week,” he explained. “He said that they can’t find the body, which is weird. I mean, carjackers leave bodies and take cars. Not the other way around.”
“And you’re thinking body now?” My stomach lurched. I’d known, but to hear it out loud...
“Well, the crime scene guys said no one could lose that amount of blood and live,” Ben said softly. “I’m sorry, Ruby, it doesn’t look good.”
I hesitated biting my lip. “Uh, Ben, Tom is here, actually, if you want to talk to him.”
Ben’s face registered confusion. Then he ground his jaw. “Oh.”
“It’s not what you think, Ben.” I didn’t want to hurt him. Then again, this wasn’t exactly my fault either. I’d asked Tom to leave.
“I’m sure it doesn’t matter what I think, Ruby,” Ben said evenly. The disappointment in his eyes sent my stomach into knots.
Tom walked out from the side of the room, hands shoved in his pockets. “Actually, it matters a lot to her, Ben. Can’t you see her face is ten shades of red?”
“What is going on then?”
“Ruby lives here, Ben,” Tom said. “She wouldn’t go anywhere else last night even though I tried to talk her into going to hotel or something. So…I slept on the floor.”
“You live here?” Ben asked me with shock.
“Yes.” Heat flared in my cheeks and I knew they must be glowing.
“And she asked me to leave. I just wouldn’t,” Tom said. “So there you are. No more wrong ideas, OK?”
“I thought you said he was just a friend.” Ben stared at Tom and then looked at me.
“He is!” I said exasperated. “Didn’t you just hear what he said?”
“If he’s just a friend, then why does he know that you live here and I don’t?”
“Maybe I’m just more observant?” Tom offered with a smile.
I wanted to smack Tom. “Ben—”
“Look, Ruby,” Ben interrupted me. “I’m not sure what is going on here,” he nodded towards Tom. “But you could have said something the other night if you two were—”
“We’re not, Ben.” Something burned in the bottom of my belly. Should I really have to explain anything to Ben? We’d only gone on one date.
“Didn’t you listen to my explanation?”
Ben ignored him. Waving his coffee cup at me, he punctuated his angry words, sending hot liquid flying out of the lid’s opening. It splashed on the floor. “I asked you if something was going on and you said—”
“Nothing is going on, Ben,” I said, my voice hiking up a notch. Did he think I was a liar?
“Well, he seems to be hanging out an awful lot for someone you’re not seeing,” Ben spat.
“Uh, Ben, I don’t think you should—” Tom put his hand up.
Pulse pounding my temples and anger flared. “You know what? I really don’t like your tone.”
“Here we go,” Tom muttered and stepped back.
“My tone?” Ben looked at me shocked. “You don’t like my tone?”
I whirled on Tom. “Or yours!”
“Hey, I stopped talking already!” He put his hands up in surrender.
“I would like both of you to leave.” I yanked the door open.
“What?” They answered in stereo.
“Thanks for the coffee.” I hooked my thumb at the back room. “You too,” I said to Tom.
“But—” Ben started.
I cut him off. “I have enough drama in my life without this from you two,” I said, eyes stinging with tears. “Someone is personally attacking me and my work, my best friend’s son is probably dead, and I’m just really, really tired of being so scared.” My voice cracked. “I want you guys to please go.”
“But the file is back there,” Tom said and made to walk back there.
“Stop!” I answered through clenched teeth. “I’ll get it to you later.”
“Nice going,” Tom said, as he pushed past Ben. He walked out and started down the sidewalk.
“Look, I didn’t mean…” Ben’s voice trailed off.
I wiped my wet cheeks and pointed out the door.
Ben took one more look at me, frowned like a boy being sent to detention, and left without a word.
I tried to keep from crying out of sheer frustration and embarrassment. Despite my resolution to get control of things, they were only getting more complicated.
Walking back to the futon, I plopped down and grabbed my pillow, hugging it to my chest. I sniffled. Spying the remains of my donut, I shoved it in my mouth.
How dare Ben be so possessive and rude, not that Tom’s teasing helped.
“I guess I’m more observant,” I said in a mock low voice.
Nice.
The file sat on the futon and I picked it up. Scanning the papers, I squinted at the highlighted sections. Truth be told, I didn’t quite know what I was looking at. Lilah took care of all of this. She’d written a phone number on the bottom of the first page with the name Ship-Systems next to it. The delivery trucks had that name on the side.
Wanting to get my mind off of the fight I’d just had with Ben, I got up, found my phone on the receptionist’s counter, and dialed the number. I eyed the clock over the bulletin board, nearly seven. They might be in. Someone answered on the fourth ring.
“Ship-Systems, this is Keeley, what can we move for you today?” the young woman’s voice sounded properly caffeinated.
“Uh, hi,” I said, not sure what to ask for. “I’m checking on a complaint that my assistant filed with your company a few days ago. I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Sure I can,” she answered. “What is the complaint number?”
Caught off guard, I scanned the paper, but didn’t find a number. “I don’t think she wrote one down.”
“Hmm. Let me try it by your account name.”
“OK, we’re The Second Street Clinic.”
“Huh, it seems like we already resolved that complaint.”
“We never heard from you.” I leafed through the pages. “Did you send us a letter?”
“No, uh, this is weird.” I could hear typing. “We called last week. Just a couple of days after you filed the complaint.”
“I’m sorry; who did you guys talk to?”
“You, Dr. McKinney.”
“Me?” Confusion and something else…alarm, rang through me.
“Mmhmm,” she answered. “I can read the resolution notes if you like.”
“OK.”
“Apparently you called us and said you remembered making the prior adjustments to your shipping method earlier in the year.”
“Adjustments?” I chewed on my nail. “What kind of adjustments?”
“Let’s see here.” Keeley hummed while she worked. “Oh, that’s what happened.”
“What?”
“Well, your packages go to your primary facility first, then get repacked, and we pick them up a day later and bring them to the Second Street facility. That would explain the weight discrepancy.”
My stomach dropped. “Uh, are you s
aying my shipments don’t come directly to the clinic?”
“Yup. That’s what the shipping orders specify.” Keeley snapped her gum. “Can I help you with anything else?”
“Yeah, can you give me the address of the main facility?”
“You don’t know it?” She sounded suspicious.
“I do, but I wanted to make sure our records match.”
“Oh, OK. It’s 1400 Laurel Avenue, Logan Heights, California.”
I wrote it down on the paper. “One more thing, Keeley.”
“Yes?”
“Who made this adjustment to the shipping method?”
She hesitated for second. “You did, Dr. McKinney. About eight months ago.”
15
After my conversation with the Ship-Systems girl, I decided I needed to talk to Lilah. I dialed her number, got her voicemail, and left a message for her to call me. I felt guilty bugging her with clinic business on the heels of Dakota’s disappearance, but things were getting weird.
I thought about what Tom said; that he believed that Antonio was involved. It seemed too far-fetched to me that a street thug would be involved in shipping manifests and what-not. My heart raced as I thought of Antonio. I didn’t know what to do. Brooding, I drove to the shelter.
I got to Haven Home at nine, just after their breakfast hour. Pulling into the parking lot, I stared at the gray building. Pitted stucco and worn wood spoke of its age. Built in the seventies, it used to be a vocational school. The city rezoned it, and a non-profit organization turned it into a shelter for abused women and children. I stepped inside hoping I could help them more than I seemed to be able to do for myself. Exhausted and worried about the weird happenings at the clinic, I didn’t feel I had the strength to deal with the broken families inside as well.
The shelter’s lobby was cozy. Made to resemble a living room, two large multi-colored couches lined the walls, each with several heart-shaped pillows. Around me, children drew in coloring books while seated near the coffee table and floor by the reception area. Water color paintings by the residents flapped against the warm hued walls when the door swung closed. Down the hall, a trio of girls played with a doll house. The smell of macaroni and cheese wafted in from the back room.
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