She found Sara’s number and dialed. “Hi, is this Sara?”
“Yes,” the voice answered.
“It’s Miss McKay.”
“Miss McKay? At school?”
“The same one.” Cali tried to keep her tone light. “I was just calling to see how things are. I missed seeing you yesterday, and I just wondered if everything was okay.”
“It’s fine, I guess.” Sara’s voice came out low. “Mom saw the doctor. They said they’ll probably do surgery next week. They’re hoping they can just remove the lump.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Cali told her, hoping she sounded positive.
“I hope so.” There was hesitation in Sara’s voice. “But shouldn’t she get a second opinion?”
“She hasn’t gotten a second opinion?” Cali asked.
“No. She seems to like the doctor, but when I went to the office with her, he called her by the wrong name. I just got this strange feeling that if he didn’t care enough to even get her name right, then how could we put her life in his hands?”
Empathy for Sara stirred up sharp, painful memories. How many times had Cali watched a physician treat her mother as if she was simply a means to a paycheck?
“She needs a second opinion,” Cali said. “I could give you my mother’s oncologist. He was really good.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Sara said.
Cali repeated Dr. Tien’s name and number. How sad was it that she knew the number by heart? “Let me know if you need anything—anything at all. And tell him I sent you.”
“Thank you.” Sara’s voice sounded a little tight.
Cali hung up and sank back in her chair. Her heart ached for Sara. You can’t win them all. Cali remembered her dream.
She bit down on her lip. “Please let me win this one.”
The door squeaked open, and Tanya popped in. “Let’s go.”
Pulling at her banana clip, Cali looked up. “Go where?”
“To lunch. Mrs. Jasmine is buying. I’m ordering steak.”
Cali squeezed the hair clip and let it pop closed. She inhaled, and a whiff of cigarette smoke filled her nose. A chill ran down her back. “I might just hang here.”
“Don’t go there. No arguing, girlfriend.” Tanya sashayed up to the desk and snatched Cali’s purse. “Now come on. We’re going to lunch and we’re going to have a good time.”
~
Brit took a bite of his burger and watched his sister. Then, frowning, he watched the man two tables away watch his sister. The jerk had been watching her since they walked in.
“Mom asked about you,” Susan said. “She said she left ten messages after she heard about Keith. You never called back.”
“I’ll see her tomorrow night.” While he added a fry to his mouth, Susan forked her salad. Normally Susan ate burgers and fries. Normally, he didn’t worry about his sister dating his partner. And normally, men didn’t stare at his sister. Brit looked at the man who had been ogling Susan since they walked in.
Susan flipped her long hair back. “Do you want me to pick her out a gift from you?”
Something was different about Susan. Brit edged back in the chair. What had he missed? “Yeah. I’ll pay you back.”
“You got any ideas what you’d like to get her?” Susan asked.
“You’re a woman. You pick.” Then he figured it out. And it was about her figure, too. She was less of a woman than before. He looked at the man again, who still gawked at his sister as if he were undressing her in his mind.
“How much do you want to spend?”
Frowning, he popped a fry into his mouth. “I don’t care.”
Susan dropped her fork. “Don’t care? Look, I know she wouldn’t win Mother-of-the—Year award, but—”
“Mother-of-the-Year? Right.” His laugh rolled out with sarcasm. They had both blamed their dad all those years. Then by the grace of God, the old man died. It wasn’t six months until Brit’s mom had a replacement. Just as mean. Maybe meaner.
Susan leaned in close. “She wasn’t perfect, but—”
“No buts. What is it, husband four now? Was it number three who put her in the hospital? Do you know I almost got fired for breaking that fucker’s nose?”
“It’s a sickness. And she’s seeing a therapist right now. And I actually like her new husband.”
“Maybe it’s a sickness. And by God, I hope she gets help. I pray this man treats her well, because I don’t enjoy beating up old men.” He clutched his fist. “I know she’s my mom, that’s why I’ll still beat the crap out of anyone who lays a hand on her. And barring disasters, I’ll be there tomorrow night. But don’t ask me to pretend like we’re this big happy family. Because you know who my family is? You. You’re my family.”
“I just wish—”
“Wishing doesn’t fix things. I gave up trying to fix Mom.”
Susan leaned in. “What about fixing yourself, Brit?”
“Don’t start.” Brit pushed his plate back.
“It’s just. . .” Her fork hit the plate, and she sent him one of those, I-love-you looks.
That look always got to him. “Eat.” He pushed his plate over to her. “And finish my burger. You’re too skinny.”
“I’m down forty pounds. I didn’t think you noticed.”
“I didn’t. Not until that man over there noticed, and kept noticing your ass when we walked in. Men aren’t supposed to notice my sister’s ass. And my partner isn’t supposed to be hitting on you either.”
His sister’s eyes lit up and she leaned in. “That man really looked at my ass?”
Brit laughed. The waitress brought over the check and he dropped a twenty on the table.
Susan crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not the only one who has changed. Our waitress has been eyeing you like a piece of candy she wants to unwrap.”
“Which one?” Brit pretended to scan the room.
“Brunette, big tits, tiny waist. Normally, you’d have had her phone number and bra size by now.”
Now, he glanced around in earnest. “Big tits?”
“And you didn’t even notice. Which makes me wonder if this too nice, too sweet Cali hasn’t worked some spell on you.”
“There’s no spell,” he said.
“You like her. And don’t deny it. You don’t go around sniffing some woman’s sweater you’re not attracted to.”
He chuckled and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I like her. But more than I like her, I want to protect her. And even considering how much I like her, I’m not sure letting it go anywhere is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s part of a case. And because with all this other crap going on, I’m not sure I’m thinking straight,” Brit said. Since Keith had died, he hadn’t given women or sex much more than a passing thought. Until Cali. He remembered getting hard just staring at her in bed this morning.
His cell phone rang. He answered it. “Lowell.”
“De...tective?” The winded voice didn’t sound familiar. “It’s...Garcia at the school. We got...trouble.”
Chapter Nineteen
Brit clutched the phone in his hand. “Is Cali okay?”
“I think I spotted him,” Garcia said, his words jarring as if he were running as he talked. “I was making my rounds. When I got around front, I saw a white pickup leaving. I’m . . . not sure, but I think it was following a van full of teachers. I ran to my car, but by the time I got there, both vehicles had gotten away. I’m running . . . inside now to see if Miss McKay went with them.”
“I’m on my way. Call me as soon as you know if she’s there. If she’s not, find someone who knows where the hell they went, and you get me that information.”
The line went dead.
“God damn it,” Brit seethed. He looked at his sister. “Let’s go. It’s Cali.”
He drove like hell was on fire and chasing him. He called the station and got an APB put out on a white pickup around the school. He kept h
is phone clutched in his palm, waiting for Garcia to tell him if Cali was at the school or out to lunch. Why the hell hadn’t he told her not to leave the school?
Susan tried to ask him questions. “Not now,” he snapped and concentrated on running red lights.
Ten minutes later, he came to a rubber-burning halt in front of the school, still clutching his phone. Why hadn’t Garcia called back? Brit jumped out of his car and sprinted to the front door. It was locked. He banged his hand on the glass. Behind him, he heard Susan get out of his SUV.
His phone rang and he snapped it open. “Where is she?”
“She’s fine,” Garcia answered. “I found her in the teacher’s lounge.”
Brit let out a breath he felt as if he’d held for ten minutes. “Get someone to let me in. I’m standing out front.”
“I’m right there,” Garcia said.
When he looked up, Garcia and Cali made the corner. Brit stared at Cali’s face. She looked shaken, pale, reminding him of the first night he’d seen her at her apartment. He dropped his phone into his shirt pocket, itching to hold her instead.
Garcia opened the door. Brit pushed past him to Cali. “You okay?” He brushed his hands up and down her arms. She nodded, but didn’t look okay. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I didn’t go to lunch. I stayed here.” He felt her trembling.
He squeezed both her hands. “Stan called you, didn’t he?”
Her frightened eyes met his. “No.”
He stared at her and as clearly as he could see her face, he could see she was hiding something. What the hell was she hiding?
“What happened, Cali?”
She blinked and shook her head. “Nothing.”
Garcia walked past him, and Brit heard the door whisk open . “Can I help you?” the security guard asked someone. Brit remembered Susan. When he looked back, sure enough she stood at the door.
A cold wind entered when his sister stepped inside. “I’m with him,” his sister said.
Brit nodded at his sister and went back to staring at Cali. “You’re shaking,” he said. “Tell me what happened. You have a problem with the principal?”
“No. It’s fine.”
Brit’s phone rang. He put the phone to his ear, but didn’t answer quite yet and continued to study Cali’s washed-out expression. “Did you see Stan Humphrey?”
“No,” she said.
Frowning, he hit the talk button. “Lowell.”
“Hey, detective. We’ve pulled over a white pickup. It’s not the right license plate, but the man fits the description. What do you want me to do?”
“Hold him until I get there. And be careful. We’re looking at him for murder. Where are you?”
The cop gave an address and Brit memorized it. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up the phone and looked at Cali again. Was he imagining she was hiding something from him? Hell, with such little sleep as he’d had, maybe he was seeing things that weren’t there.
He gave Cali’s arms another squeeze, then looked at Garcia now standing beside him. “They’ve pulled over a white pickup. I’ll call you when I know something.” He looked back at Cali. “Remember, don’t leave until I get here.” He wanted so bad to lean down and kiss her, but he didn’t.
When he turned around, he met Susan’s gaze. “Let’s go.” He placed his hand on her lower back and guided her out. Crawling into his car, he prayed the man driving the pickup was Stan Humphrey. Damn, but he wanted to catch this bastard.
~
Cali watched Brit and the brunette walk out. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he had a beautiful woman with him. He was just a cop and she was just a case. And the fact that Stan had been spotted in the parking lot, that her mother had warned her not to go out to lunch, that she’d smelled smoke when Tanya had come in, insisting she go out to lunch, it didn’t matter either. Because the dreams were only her subconscious.
It was totally logical. She could almost hear Dr. Roberts’ calm voice explaining it. “You always go out to lunch on an in-service day. Stan probably knew that. You knew Stan would know. Therefore, it was logical that you turned Tanya down. It wasn’t your mom telling you this—it was your subconscious warning you. And you listened to your subconscious because it was logical. Not because you believed your mom was communicating with you.”
But logic could go fly a kite in a hail storm because Cali didn’t feel better. Not about the dream, because she hadn’t remembered today was an in-service day. Not about the beautiful woman with Brit because she hadn’t realized he had a girlfriend.
Cali had seen the woman checking her out, too. And though Cali hated to admit it, she’d done her own checking—the old compare and contrast and she-has/I-have inventory. The brunette, with long hair that hung past her shoulders, had looked older than Cali. Some men liked older women and longer hair. The brunette had larger breasts. Men liked larger breasts. The brunette was taller and seductive, wearing a snug pair of black jeans and a snugger red sweater that hugged her slightly bigger breasts. Cali was a sweet girl with a Charmin face. The brunette was exotic looking.
If it had been a competition, hands down the brunette won.
But it wasn’t a competition. Brit Lowell was just a cop trying to protect her. He’d even said as much this morning when she’d asked him. And he hadn’t tried to kiss her because he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. And as soon as she got that through her thick skull, and quit doodling hearts on paper, the better off she’d be.
~
“Stay in the car,” Brit told Susan as he pulled up behind the squad car and a white pickup.
As he got out, he spotted a dark-haired man talking to Officer Wolowitz. Brit eyed the pickup; it was the right make, the driver had the right hair color and height. Hope stirred in his chest. But then the man turned around and Brit saw his face and his hope shattered. Not the right man. Not Stan.
After leaving a message on Cali’s machine that it hadn’t been Stan, Brit drove Susan back to his place. She asked a few questions, and he answered her with as little information as he could.
He parked in the driveway, and bet himself he wouldn’t make it out of here without his sister interrogating him about his concern over Cali. Not that he had anything to hide. He remembered his gut telling him that Cali was keeping something from him. And now his gut shouted out another bit of wisdom. He couldn’t let this attraction go anywhere. Not when there was the least bit of doubt about her relationship with a suspected murderer.
But damn it, nor was he going to let Humphrey get to her.
Susan slid out of the seat, then turned and faced him.
“I might not be home until in the morning,” he told her.
Her frown deepened. “You’re not sleeping enough, brother.”
“I’m going to get some sleep,” he said, hoping this afternoon would go just like it had yesterday. That he could hang with Cali at the hotel and get some rest.
“You’re going to kill yourself going like this.”
“I’m fine.” He waved her off with his gotta-go tone because he wanted to stop at the station to visit with Duke and Mark and see how the interview went with the gang member.
He also planned to talk to Adams about putting a man on Cali. Stan seemed adamant to get to her. He knew Adams would balk, but someone had to take care of her. And maybe he wasn’t the right person to do it.
“She’s really pretty.” Susan stood outside the SUV’s open door.
“Yeah.” His mind went back to the panicked look on Cali’s face. What had upset her? What was she not telling him? He jammed the car into drive and took off.
~
“I can’t do that,” Adams said. “We’ll work the case, but I can’t afford to put a man on the girl. Especially when the school already has security.”
Brit leaned forward. “He’s broken into her apartment, her car, and her mother’s house. Now, we’re almost certain he was at the school again today. He’s wanted for three murders.”
&n
bsp; “Yeah, and chances are she’s meeting him for quickies every afternoon. You know how these women work.”
Brit’s gut flinched as if someone had punched him. “She filed charges against him. She gave us all she knows.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.” Brit jammed his hands into his pockets to keep them off Adams’ neck.
“What you want to bet when we catch the guy, she’ll be in court crying her eyes out because she knows he really didn’t mean to do it? The answer is no. Do the job. Find the guy and bring him in, but I’m not putting men out there to protect some girlfriend when I’ve got cop killers running the street.”
Brit stormed out of Adams’ office ready to hit somebody. He slammed the door of his broom closet of an office and dared anyone to try to talk to him. He’d expected Adams to deny his request, that wasn’t what had blistered his balls. It was the fact that everything Adams said was exactly how Brit had felt a few days ago. And while most of those feelings had been pushed aside, the smallest thread of doubt hung loose. And that thread seemed to be the one thing that could unravel Brit’s sanity.
~
Cali sat in the last meeting for the day, wishing the moments away. Mrs. Jasmine had the floor again and it took everything Cali had to pay attention.
“The At Risk Kids Foundation is still looking for volunteers to help them coordinate their biannual meeting. And they’ve sent out e-mails asking if anyone knows any civil servants that would volunteer as speakers. I’ve already offered up my husband, who is a fire fighter.” She shuffled through her notes. “If anyone has a few hours to donate, I’d appreciate it.”
Cali felt Mrs. Jasmine’s eyes zoning in on her, but she glanced away. It wasn’t the program. A.R.K. helped teenagers who were thought to be at risk of quitting school. Cali seriously felt the program had merit, but right now, she should be asking for volunteers to help her piece her own life back together. Cali got a vision of her standing up and announcing, “Excuse me, would someone please volunteer to convince me that my dead mother isn’t visiting me in my dreams, and if anyone else could do something about my ex-boyfriend, the murderer whom I slept with. Well, I’d appreciate it.”
Murder Mayhem and Mama Page 16