Ninja Soccer Moms

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Ninja Soccer Moms Page 7

by Jennifer Apodaca


  I blinked. Female Columbo? Oh, my raincoat. Sheesh. No way was I telling her the real reason I had on the raincoat. “Sophie, this is a raincoat. It was raining this morning. And I never lied to Janie.” Not exactly. I never told Janie I was a private detective. I just wanted to help her. I looked around the shop. The two ladies getting their acrylic nails filed stared at me. A lady under the hair dryer turned it off. Blow-dryers went off. Everyone froze.

  And stared at me.

  Sophie lifted her chin. She kept herself ruthlessly thin, which made her face slightly pointed. Attractive enough, but severe. When dry, her hair was blond and styled close to her head. “Janie Tuggle told Joanna that you are investigating Chad’s death. I’m warning you, Sam. Stay out of this, or I will be forced to take this matter to the police.”

  One of us had inhaled too many fumes. I didn’t think it was me. Sophie was a hundred-and-twenty-pound bulldozer, but she wasn’t crazy. So what was going on? “Sophie, I work for Pulizzi Security and Investigations part-time.” Remembering the scene with Gabe this morning, I wasn’t so sure about that. But I could help Janie as a private citizen with no pay. That was legal, and I would do it if necessary. “But I never told Janie that I had a license myself.”

  “You implied it. Janie is one of ours, and I don’t want you getting her into trouble. She needs friends now, not trouble.”

  Anger shot up from my gut right to my mouth. “Right. And you stood by her when you threw Janie off the SCOLE board. Took away the books. Protected Chad. What friends.” Fury roiled in my chest. They had abandoned Janie when Chad took up with Dara. Now they claim her? What was that about?

  Sophie ran her long thin fingers through her wet hair. “You don’t understand. There are things we have to do for the good of the soccer club and the kids. Can’t you get that? You used to understand. What happened to you?”

  That was a clever trick and one that cooled my anger. Sophie was skilled at turning everything she wanted into “for the kids,” then asking me why I didn’t care about the kids. So what did she want, exactly? Sucking in a breath to bring down my heart rate, I studied her. She did look tired, upset. The truth was that Sophie had suffered a horrible shock this morning. She was close to Chad. Both as his part-time employee and through soccer. Hell, her husband, Jay, was the president, and Chad had been the head coach. They ran SCOLE. I tried another tactic. “Look, Sophie, I’m so sorry about Chad. This has to be awful for you and Jay.”

  Her thin shoulders beneath her silk print shirt relaxed. “Yes, it’s awful. Of course, Rick Mesa will step in for Chad as head coach, but Chad will be missed.”

  Shocked, I said, “You already talked to Rick?” Rick was Chad’s best friend and assistant coach.

  She nodded.

  That seemed kind of premature. Sophie couldn’t have known for more than a couple of hours that Chad was dead. I thought about it. Maybe this had to do with the missing money from the soccer account? “What are you going to do about the soccer books? Is there someone else who can take that over for Chad?”

  Sophie looked blank. “Uh, I don’t know. What difference does it make?”

  Interesting. She talked to Rick about stepping into the head coach position, but she wasn’t worried about the books. So did she know there was sixteen thousand missing from the account? “I was just thinking that Janie could help out.”

  Her face hardened. “Sam, stay out of it. I mean it. You aren’t going to make this tragedy into one of your newspaper headlines.” She turned and stalked back to her chair.

  I blinked and looked at Angel.

  She picked up her purse behind the counter and followed me out into the parking lot. “You know, Sam, I get the feeling that Sophie cares more about keeping you out of Chad’s murder investigation than finding out who killed him.”

  A gazillion thoughts raced through my head. Sophie had already talked to Rick Mesa this morning, and they were trying to get Janie under control. I recognized that Sophie more or less pulled rank to stop people from Lake Elsinore’s soccer world from talking to me. And I’d bet money Janie didn’t know about it. Sophie was controlling things. Why? I looked at Angel. “They are closing ranks around Chad and his death for some reason.”

  “What do you think she meant by the newspaper headline crack?”

  We were standing out on the sidewalk in front of Angel’s mom’s shop. I looked around the parking lot. “I think she’s hiding something. Maybe the missing soccer money? Maybe they don’t want anyone to know Chad stole money from SCOLE because it would look bad.”

  Angel’s green eyes glittered. “He stole money?”

  Quickly, I caught her up, from finding the money missing from the soccer account last night, then finding out this morning that Chad had been murdered. I ended with Gabe tossing me off the case.

  “No shit? Gabe’s taking this Dara’s side over you?”

  I winced and looked away, out to the cars scattered around the parking lot. Leave it to Angel to cut to the chase. “Guess so.”

  Angel didn’t let me off the hook. “Uh-huh. And what are you going to do about that? What do you think Dara wants with Gabe? Besides his hunk of a bod?”

  Bile rose up the back of my throat. I couldn’t control Gabe or what he wanted. If he wanted Dara the slut . . . I brought my hand up to rub my face. “I’m going to help Janie find out who murdered Chad. Given Sophie’s reaction, I’m more determined to help Janie. I’m not going to let Sophie and SCOLE run over her like they did when Chad dumped her. But—” I turned and faced Angel, “—Gabe preached at me about being partners, but he didn’t trust me enough to tell me what Dara wanted.”

  She tilted her head. “Confidentiality?”

  I took my coat off. I didn’t need it to cover my butt in the car. “It wouldn’t be a problem if he trusted me, would it?”

  Angel looked past me and said, “How about we put a tracking device on Gabe’s truck? Then we could see what he’s up to.”

  “Angel!” Laughing in spite of my rotten day, I said, “Stalking your ex-husband is one thing. He couldn’t find a tracking device if you painted big red arrows pointing the way. But Gabe would find it in no time. Then he’d kill me.”

  She shifted her stare back to me. “Guess we’ll find out.” She grinned.

  Uh-oh. Now I heard the engine. I looked back over my shoulder and both of us watched the big black truck slide to a stop next to my T-Bird. Gabe jumped out of the cab and shot toward us. The passenger door opened, and for a minute I thought maybe it was Dara.

  Then I saw the dark-haired, apple-shaped woman get out. Gabe’s mom, Iris.

  “Sam,” Angel whispered, already digging through her expensive leather purse. “Keep them busy while I get this on his truck.”

  I stared at the doohickey in her hand. “No!”

  Gabe’s voice slammed into me from behind. “Sam, what are you doing here?”

  Shifting my gaze from Angel and the thing she held in her hand, I turned to look at Gabe. His black hair fell straight over his broad forehead. The brown gaze he fastened on me darkened even while I watched. Flared nostrils and a tight jaw radiated anger. Shit. “Uh, well,” Lie! “I need to get a manicure.”

  He arched one brow. “Looks like you are coming out, not going in.”

  Oh, hell. “I forgot . . . something. What are you doing here?”

  “He’s taking me to the beauty parlor,” Iris said, as she strode up beside him. “I understand this shop is the best in town.”

  I forced my gaze to stay on Gabe and his mom even though I knew Angel was putting a tracking device on his truck. Angel had all kinds of tracking equipment she used to torment the man dumb enough to leave her for a manicurist named Brandi. My fearless best friend was trying to help me, in her own twisted way.

  Gabe’s mom started turning her head toward Angel putting the device on Gabe’s truck. “Iris!”

  She turned back to me, her brown eyes wide.

  I started babbling, while hugging my coat to my
chest. “Oh, yes! This is the best beauty shop in town. Ask for Trixie. She owns it, and she’s my best friend’s mom.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Gabe took a step closer. “How did you get that bruise on your forehead?”

  I reached up and winced when I touched the lump. “An accident with a client this morning.”

  “One of Heart Mate’s clients, or were you out snooping around under my license?”

  Gabe’s mom stared at me. Anger thrummed around my other raw emotions. I was getting damned tired of accusations from people. Why was he challenging me in front of his mother? I tilted my chin up. “A Heart Mates client.” Taking a breath, I caught a glimpse of Angel’s head popping up over the back end of Gabe’s truck. To keep his attention on me and away from Angel, I said, “I’m not investigating under your license.” Yet.

  Gabe stepped closer and caught hold of my arm. “The mud all over your ass says differently.”

  Cripes, I’d forgotten about that. With my coat off, Gabe and his mom had full view of my dirty butt from my fall in the trash and mud while struggling with Ali. Unfortunately, getting involved with a case usually meant ruining clothes, and Gabe knew it. But this time, my mud-covered butt had nothing to do with the case. “Ha!” I tried to pull my arm from his hold, but that was useless. “I was at Duncan’s Nursery looking for Roxy, my client. But Ali took it into her head to get into Duncan’s trash can. I slid on the mud fighting with her.”

  Gabe’s mouth twitched. “So you were putting your ass on the line for your client?”

  Embarrassment climbed up my neck to splash all over my face. I jerked on my arm.

  Gabe let go.

  I overbalanced and almost fell backward, but Gabe caught me by wrapping both his hands around my upper arms. “Easy, Sam—” the rest of his words were lost in the revving of an engine. With Gabe’s hands still on my upper arms, all three of us turned to find the source of the noise.

  A tan Ford extended-cab truck sprang out of a parking space by the street, squealed toward us, and skidded to a halt behind my car and Gabe’s truck.

  Lionel Davis threw open the cab door and jumped out, grabbed something out of the bed of the truck, and ran toward us up on the sidewalk.

  “Let her go!” He waved something in the air.

  Oh, God—he had a tire iron! He waved it madly as he plowed between Gabe’s truck and my car, straight at us.

  “Christ.” Gabe let me go, whirled around into a crouch, and launched himself, hitting Lionel hard in his gut. They both flew down on the blacktop between the cars. The tire iron clanged down on the sidewalk where Gabe tossed it. Then he flipped Lionel over on his stomach, yanked a pair of handcuffs out from the small of his back beneath his jean jacket, and cuffed him.

  I stared at it all with my mouth hanging open. Then I heard the murmur of voices behind me and turned around. The entire beauty shop had come outside to see what happened. I heard Sophie say, “It’s always trouble around her.” I turned back.

  With his knee in Lionel’s back, Gabe looked up me. “Let me guess. He’s your accident-prone client from Heart Mates.”

  “Uh, yeah.” Lord, could I look any more ridiculous in front of Gabe’s mom? In my best professional voice, I added, “I have the release form in my car for you to run a security check.”

  “He failed.” Gabe stood and pulled Lionel up with him.

  Lionel lifted his gaze to me. “Samantha, are you okay? Did I get here in time? I saw him attack you!”

  Attack me? Gabe? “Lionel, what are you doing here?”

  “I followed you. To protect you. Been watching you since you pulled into the parking lot after going to that nursery.” His big brown eyes were wide with sincerity. His nose dripped blood onto his white shirt to mix with the oil smears from the blacktop.

  “You followed me? Are you nuts?” No, really, I just wanted to know. Was he a lunatic? ’Cause I collect lunatics. Swear to God. Other women collect jewelry, purses, Cabbage Patch dolls. Me? I collect lunatics.

  “I’m not nuts. After leaving your office this morning, I heard about the murder that happened last night. Seeing as how you’re always in the paper involved with murders and all, I decided to protect you. Once we start dating, I can protect you all the time.” He stopped talking and wiped his nose on the shoulder of his shirt. His cuffed hands clanked together.

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Apparently Gabe did, though. He was laughing.

  “Stop that!” I ordered him. Embarrassment blew hot through my body.

  He laughed harder. Bent over with his hands on his well-cut thighs, he roared with hilarity.

  I glanced over at the tire iron on the sidewalk. If I picked it up and whacked Gabe, he’d stop laughing. I was not going to be laughed at—especially in front of my boyfriend’s mother.

  But Iris got to the tire iron first. She picked it up off the ground, stood over her son and banged the tire iron in her hand. “Gabe Pulizzi, I didn’t raise my sons to be disrespectful.”

  Gabe stopped laughing.

  Now there was a woman I could admire. Turning to Gabe, I glared at him. “Uncuff Lionel.”

  His dark gaze flashed. “Let the cops deal with him, Sam.”

  With his mom watching? I didn’t think so. First, I wanted to show her I was capable. Second, I really think that from Lionel’s point of view—he did see Gabe grab my arm, let go, then grab me again—it looked like I was in trouble. While I knew I was in no physical danger and that Gabe had grabbed me to keep me from falling, I suppose Lionel could have misinterpreted what he saw. “He’s my client. Uncuff him.”

  Gabe sighed and pulled out a small silver key. He undid the cuffs while his mom walked over and tossed the tire iron into the bed of Lionel’s truck

  “Go home, Lionel. We’ll talk later. I’m really not sure that Heart Mates is the right place for you.”

  “But . . .” He threw up both arms, looking teddy-bear sincere.

  I was tired. This case was confusing as hell, my boyfriend was trying to push me out, and Angel had reappeared with a insane smile that promised bad things for me. On top of that, I had a missing, hysterical client and a dog acting weird. How many disasters did I have to deal with at once? I started with Lionel. Putting my no-nonsense mom stare in place, I said, “Go home. Now!”

  Wiping his nose with his arm, Lionel shuffled over to his truck. He got in, took out his nose spray and did a few nasal whiffs, then put the idling truck in gear and drove away.

  I looked at Trixie, Sophie, and the rest of the women staring at Gabe. Not Lionel, not me, Gabe. Like he was some kind of scrumptious chocolate snack. My temper crackled. “Show’s over.”

  “All right, ladies, let’s go back to work.” Trixie shepherded everyone back inside.

  Iris touched my arm. “Samantha, Gabe says you have two sons.”

  Uh-oh. I was a mom. I knew that look. She was worried about her son dating me. But would she pick right here in the parking lot in front of a beauty salon to tell me I was all wrong for her son?

  Why not? Lionel picked here to prove his love.

  “Yes, TJ and Joel.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  Iris pulled her shiny black vinyl purse off her arm and undid the clasp. “We can’t have you getting hurt then. Here—” she pulled out an object—“take my gun.”

  “Gun!” I shouted, then clamped both my hands over my mouth and looked around. These days, screaming gun was a lot like screaming fire. Instant panic.

  “Cool!” Angel materialized between Iris and me.

  Gabe caught Iris’s hand. “Mom, put that away.”

  “Yeah, Sam’s afraid of guns,” Angel whispered, like it was shameful.

  I looked at Gabe. “Your mother carries a gun?”

  “I was all the kids had left,” Iris answered, “after their father was killed. I wasn’t about to let some thug leave my children orphans.”

  That I could relate to. “Iris, I can take care of my sons. I’m n
ot going to leave them orphans.” Gabe’s father was killed? I knew he’d died young but . . . God, he never told me anything. I wondered: was that why Gabe had become a cop instead of a firefighter, like his dad was? His brothers became firefighters, too. He has one sister, who is a paramedic.

  Iris seemed to consider that. “Well if you need a gun—”

  “Do not give Sam a gun!” Gabe hissed.

  I glared at him. “Stop making decisions for me.”

  His jaw twitched, and I saw a lump forming on his right temple. Gabe looked at Angel. “Will you take my mom inside? Mom, this is Angel.” He waved his hand to introduce the two women. Then to his mom, he went on, “Call me on the cell when you’re done. I’ll pick you up.”

  Angel grinned her thousand-watt smile. “Hi, Iris, your son is quite a hunk.” Their voices faded as they entered the shop.

  I looked at Gabe. “You never told me your father was killed.”

  “My father was killed. Feel better?”

  I stared at him. “You’re a little testy today.”

  His jaw twitched. “Sam, you are in over your head. This case isn’t just about some small-town embezzling now. It’s murder.”

  “Yeah? Well, thanks to your client’s version of my meeting with Chad yesterday, now Vance considers me a suspect.” Gabe had once told me that the police had their own agenda and I’d better look out for my sons and myself. I wasn’t going to tell him about Janie and the insurance on Chad. We weren’t sharing that kind of information.

  Gabe narrowed his gaze. “Vance is blowing smoke to get you to cooperate with him.”

  Gee, his concern and caring were overwhelming. “I’m not backing down. Sure, I won’t get paid, but Janie’s my friend. And something about this thing smells. Bad.” I tilted my head up and dared him to argue.

  Gabe folded his arms across his chest. “I offered you a deal this morning.”

  We were at a standoff. Both of us were stubborn as hell and putting our respective clients first. Janie might not be an actual client, but it was important to me to help her. It was important to me to make a difference in Lake Elsinore. “Tell me what’s up with Dara first.”

 

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