Ninja Soccer Moms

by Jennifer Apodaca

  His gaze stayed on me. Cars whipped by. Blow-dryers turned on and off. Female chatter floated out the door. And Gabe didn’t move. “You can’t do it without me, babe.”

  “Is that a challenge?” I hated that Gabe didn’t trust me enough to just tell me. He expected me to trust him that much.

  His face hardened. “It’s a fact. Go ahead, Sam. Try to solve this without my help.” He turned and headed for his truck.

  I glared at his back. “I will!” I didn’t want to acknowledge the anger and fear rocketing through my blood. Once Gabe had fought to save me; now it seemed he was off saving another woman.

  He wrenched open the cab door, then looked back at me. “You can try, sugar.”

  6

  That was the second time today Gabe got the last word.

  Then drove off.

  I stomped to my T-bird and got in. I needed a plan. Gabe Pulizzi was not going to win; I was not going to fail. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and dialed Janie’s number. When she answered, I kept my eye on the beauty shop and said, “Janie, it’s Sam. Did you talk to Sophie Muffley yet?”

  “No. What’s going on, Sam?”

  I explained Sophie telling everyone in the beauty shop not to talk to me, and accusing me of misleading Janie. “You know I’m not a licensed private detective, right, Janie?”

  “Yes, I know. But I want you to find who killed Chad, Sam. Sophie and them, they are part of the problem with Chad. They let him get away with whatever he wanted as long as he brought home the championship for SCOLE. I knew you’d be different.”

  I could hear the desperate anger in her voice, but I wasn’t sure at whom the anger was directed. Once, I’d been angry at all the people I’d thought had been my friends in soccer and the PTA who never told me about my husband’s hobby of women. But eventually I understood whom I was really angry at—myself. I had the feeling Janie was in that same place. “Okay, Janie. I’ve actually got an idea of how to get started. But I want you to be prepared. Sophie and some others may try to pressure you to leave things alone.”

  “You think they are hiding something? Like they knew Chad was embezzling?”

  “Could be. Are you up to it?” I heard her breathing for a few seconds.

  “I have to be. Yes, I’m up to it. Sam, what do I do about that detective? Should I give him the paperwork on Chad’s insurance?”

  I bit my bottom lip, thinking. Gabe would know the answer to that. I figured it would be best to go strictly honest. The thing about Vance was that he was a by-the-book guy. If I found evidence that led him away from Janie, he would follow the evidence. “Give him a copy of the policy when he asks again, but don’t volunteer anything.”

  “Okay. And Sam, thanks.”

  I jumped when the passenger side car door opened. I’d been so engrossed in my thoughts that I forgot to watch the beauty shop.

  Angel slid into the passenger side and pulled the door closed. “Three guesses who Gabe’s mom started chatting up real friendly-like in Mom’s shop.”

  I looked through the window into the shop. There were Iris Pulizzi and Sophie Muffley with their heads together. “He sent his mother to spy on Sophie. But the question is, why? What is Gabe after? What does Dara have to do with this whole mess? She’s the one that found Chad . . .” I trailed off, thinking. “It has to have something to do with the missing soccer money. And Sophie worked for Chad in his office, where the soccer books were kept. She’s a logical person to talk to. Damn sneaky sending his mother, though.”

  Angel lifted a delicate red-tinged eyebrow. “Almost as sneaky as putting a tracking device on Gabe’s truck.”

  I smiled and started the car. “Pull out your tracking stuff, and let’s follow Gabe.”

  It took a little bit of driving around, but we spotted Gabe’s truck parked in a housing tract on the corner of Machado Street and Lincoln.

  It was the same housing tract where Chad Tuggle lived. Or had lived. “I think Gabe’s doing a little breaking and entering.”

  Angel put her GPS screen, which she had been tracking Gabe’s truck on, back in her large purse. “Why?”

  “Don’t know, but it’s something to do with why Dara hired him. Chances are good that it’s information connected to Chad’s murder since it’s Chad’s house.” I realized I had several reasons for desperately wanting to solve this case. Helping Janie was number one, but proving myself to Gabe ran a close second. We had been building a sort of loose partnership, both personal and business. That came to a screeching halt with his demand that I work with him without knowing the facts of Dara’s case. I meant to find out what Dara hired Gabe for.

  I slowed down as we passed the street Chad lived on. His two-story house was three houses up the street. There were no cars in the driveway or in front. Gabe had parked two streets over.

  Two could play at this game.

  I went one street the other way and parked. “Come on, let’s see if we can find out what Gabe’s doing.”

  We got out of the car. We walked around the block in the cool after-rain sunshine. “How do we get in?” Angel asked.

  I considered that. “My guess would be the side garage door. Chad always left that unlocked during his soccer games. When I’d been team mom for him, he sent me back to his house lots of times to get stuff he’d forgotten.”

  Quickly, we passed the first two houses on the street. Chad’s house was cream stucco with a peach trim. Approaching on the garage side of the house, I motioned to Angel to follow me. Quietly I went up to the six-foot wood fence and pulled the string to release the latch on the gate.

  The rain had made the wood swell, and I had to shove to get the gate open. I prayed Gabe didn’t hear anything. We stood on the long strip of cement that ran the length between the house and the fence. Straight ahead opened up into a small yard. I could spot half of the fishpond. There was a built-in pool hidden by the house from were we stood. Janie had hosted many team swimming parties so I knew exactly how the backyard was laid out.

  Our goal was the door on our left, which led into the three-car garage. Walking softly in my boots, I reached out and tried the doorknob.

  It turned.

  My blood started pounding in my ears. What if Gabe was in the garage?

  What if the killer was in the garage?

  What if a vicious dog was in the garage?

  “Sam?” Angel whispered behind me.

  “Right.” I needed to find out what Gabe was after. No more stalling. I reached into my purse and pulled out a canister of pepper spray. Then I turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open. The garage was dark and smelled like a wet blanket.

  I stepped inside, followed by Angel.

  As my eyes adjusted, light from the opened door showed a workbench, tools, and on the far side of the garage, one of those all-in-one weight things bolted to a support pillar. It looked like it came straight off an infomercial. All that was missing were the male and female hard-body models discussing how they only used the machine five minutes a day for a week.

  No cars were in the garage. Chad’s Explorer must have been at work when he was killed. Had the police impounded it? Would he have hidden the soccer money in his car?

  I turned to the white door that led through the laundry room into the house. Glancing at Angel, I whispered, “Maybe we should have some kind of plan.”

  Angel gathered her long red-with-black-tips hair into a ponytail, then twisted it up on her head and somehow made it stay there. A few stray wisps floated down around her face. “We want to sneak up on Gabe, hide, and see what he’s doing. How much of a plan do we need?”

  I glared at her. “What do you think the chances are of us pulling this off?”

  She grinned, practically lighting up the garage. “He’s not expecting us to be here. And don’t forget, he’s got to go back and pick up his mom. He’ll be distracted.”

  This might actually work. I hoped. “Okay, why don’t you look around downstairs, and I’ll look upstairs? All the b
edrooms are upstairs, so I’d think Chad would have an office or something up there.”

  “Sure.” Angel waved her hand to the door.

  I reached for the door handle. Chad never had a house alarm when he was married to Janie, but now that he had taken up embezzling from SCOLE, maybe he’d put in an alarm.

  But if Gabe was in there, he would have disarmed the alarm.

  It was hard to get a full breath.

  “Sam, are you going to let Gabe have the last word?” Angel whispered behind me.

  “Hell, no.” Squaring my shoulders, I tucked my purse back behind my hip, clutched my pepper spray, and turned the door handle.

  It wasn’t locked. Slowly, we eased open the door and went into the laundry room. The washer and dryer were on the right. Carefully we closed the door.

  We were in. No alarms blared, and so far, Gabe hadn’t caught us. I headed straight to where the laundry room turned left into a small hallway that led to a downstairs bathroom and family room.

  This was probably breaking and entering. Maybe even crime-scene tampering. But there had been no crime here. And since Janie was the ex-wife and probably inherited everything as the kids’ guardian . . . I turned off my spinning thoughts. If I had a hope in hell of outsmarting Gabe at this, I had to focus.

  A squeak overhead froze me to the tile. Angel stopped beside me. We were on the threshold of a large family room. I looked up at the ceiling.

  That squeak had to be Gabe up on the second floor. Had he heard us? I glanced at Angel.

  She gestured for me to go on. I knew she’d keep watch down here. Quickly I looked around to get my bearings. We were facing the family room. It had a big black leather couch with recliners built in, facing a huge big-screen TV. Chad had redecorated. I wondered how much that TV and couch cost. I remembered the clean but worn furniture in Janie’s mobile home. Chad still owed her money for the house and didn’t pay the kid’s health insurance premiums, but he bought new stuff for himself. What a guy.

  The kitchen was through the family room. On my left was the stairs, then the living room. Quietly, I headed for the stairs.

  Naturally they went straight up. No little turns to hide in while climbing up. I took a deep breath, tucked my can of pepper spray back in my purse, and started up the stairs while straining to listen.

  Halfway up I heard clicking. Familiar clicking. I strained to place it. It sounded like . . . Grandpa on the computer! Was Gabe on Chad’s computer? What was he looking for? Something to do with the missing soccer money? At the top of the stairs, I stopped.

  The stairs opened to a balcony on my right that overlooked the living room, filled with a pool table. I wondered where Angel was. Probably snooping through the kitchen. I went left, where I had my choice of either going left again to the master bedroom or right to the three remaining bedrooms.

  The clicking stopped.

  If Gabe walked out of any room, he’d see me. Quick, where to go? The kids had the two bedrooms past the bathroom, so I guessed Gabe was in the bedroom with the door just to the right. It used to be Janie’s sewing and craft room, but I was sure Chad had changed it. I tiptoed to the wall and quietly edged to the door. Holding my breath, I listened.

  Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t in there. There was only one way to find out for sure. I took a deep breath to control my pounding heart and calm my breathing.

  Quietly, I put my left hand on the door molding and inched my body around so that I was pressed up to the opening. Then I leaned around, took a quick peek into the room, and pulled back.

  Leaning back against the wall, I thought about what I saw. There had been a big desk for computers sitting in the middle of the room. It had been black and tubular with a flat-screened monitor sitting in the middle.

  Had the monitor been on? I’d seen the back of it, so I didn’t know. I saw the window across from the door with the shade drawn down. A gray chair pushed back from the desk and nothing else.

  No Gabe.

  Maybe Gabe was in the master bedroom. There could be another computer in there, or maybe the clicking I’d heard wasn’t a computer at all. Quickly I glanced right. One of the double doors to the master bedroom stood open. I could see a dresser and past that, a sliding glass door that led out to a balcony that overlooked the backyard. No sign of Gabe.

  Crap. Maybe he wasn’t even here. Maybe all I’d been hearing was the house settling.

  But that had been his truck outside a couple of streets over. Where did Dara Reed live? Did she live in this tract, and Gabe was seeing her?

  Screw it, I was going in the room. It looked like Chad’s office and right now, I needed all the help I could get.

  I leaned around the doorjamb and looked into the room. The desk was set in the middle, sort of catty-cornered facing the door. I thought I saw a glow from the monitor. If it was on, then Gabe was probably in the house somewhere. Maybe even in the room. I scanned the room from the right all the way to my left and almost screamed.

  Gabe grinned at me. He stood flattened against the wall with his head turned to watch me.

  Damn.

  “Looking for something?”

  I stepped into the room and put both hands on my hips. “Why are you hiding? You almost gave me heart failure!”

  Gabe pushed off the wall. “Why are you skulking around a dead man’s house?”

  I tried for an exasperated look. “I’m not skulking. I’m . . .” I trailed off and tried to think. Why would I be in a dead man’s house? “Uh, I’m here to get Chad some burial clothes and . . . I heard a noise.” I turned my back on Gabe and looked at the desk. There was a stack of newspapers, and the top one had a picture of Chad. In the middle of the desk, the flat-screened computer monitor was on. There was a picture of a soccer team, with Chad and Rick Mesa beaming beside them. What had Gabe been doing? “Your truck’s not parked out front, so I didn’t think anyone was here.”

  I jumped when Gabe put his hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t hear your car either, babe. Seems to me you might be breaking and entering.”

  “Actually, I walked in the garage door.” I stared at the computer, trying to figure out what was wrong. The picture on screen was called wallpaper or something like that, but it seemed to be missing something. Gabe’s hand kept me pinned.

  “Not bad,” Gabe said. “Same way I came in.”

  “Hmm.” I tried not to let Gabe’s compliment distract me. CDs were scattered on the desk. Gabe was looking through the CDs. What for? I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and went to the desk. I picked up a CD. It was for Microsoft Word.

  That was it. I snapped my gaze up to the screen.

  “Someone’s already been here.” Gabe said as he came up behind me and leaned over my shoulder. “The computer is wiped clean.”

  Just a few stray icons were left on the computer, like My Computer, Recycle Bin, and the Printer icon, but there were no files for Excel or things like that. “Nothing left?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t begin to figure it out. The killer wiping the computer clean was the obvious answer, but why? “Did you go through these CDs to see what had been on the computer?” I thumbed through. I recognized PowerPoint, since my kids used that for reports and stuff. Scanner programs. All kinds of stuff. Turning my head, I looked at Gabe.

  He didn’t answer.

  It made sense that Gabe had been trying to figure out what had been wiped off the computer by looking at the CDs. Maybe. Unless Gabe had been the one to wipe all the files off the computer. Why would he do that, though? To protect Dara? From what?

  I turned around. “Gabe, did you do it? Wipe the computer clean?” Gabe and I had done that once before. We’d broken into a house to get some personal sex videos of clients off the Internet.

  “No. Look, Sam, this is getting dangerous. Someone bashed in Chad’s head, and they are going to a lot of trouble to cover their tracks.”

  I stared up at him. He had on his jean jacket over a dark shirt stretched tight acro
ss his chest. His deep, intense eyes watched me. “You know something.”

  He did the hard cop stare.

  Frustration tightened the back of my neck. My insides turned over. Had I lost Gabe? Don’t, I warned myself. Stay focused on the case. Unless . . . Maybe I could convince Gabe to tell me what he knew.

  I wasn’t exactly dressed for seduction, with the drying mud on my butt, and frizzy hair. But it was worth a try. “Come on, Gabe.” I put my hand on his arm. It was rock hard under the jean jacket. Moving in closer to his body, I slid my other hand inside the jacket and around his waist. I leaned my head back, looking up into his face. Look sexy, I thought.

  I ran my tongue around my lips and said, “Tell me what you know about Chad’s murder.”

  He arched a brow.

  I moved my other hand beneath his jacket, running them both around his back and down his hips. He had a tight butt. I clutched both cheeks. “Tell me what you know. Just a little hint . . .” I left off suggestively.

  “A hint?” His voice was thick, almost choked.

  I nodded my head, leaning my breasts into his chest. “Just a hint.” Dang, I was getting kind of hot. Who am I kidding? Gabe always makes me hot.

  In a husky voice, he said, “Okay, here’s a hint—try it naked next time.”

  Naked? Gabe naked sprang into my mind. All long hard limbs, flat stomach, excellent package . . . I jumped back. Gabe’s voice wasn’t husky with lust. He was holding back laughter. I glared at him. “You knew!”

  He burst out laughing.

  I whirled around and stormed over to the computer.

  Gabe’s arm shot around my waist and yanked me back against him. Still laughing, he said into my neck. “Practice, babe. You’ll get better.”

  Humiliation burned my face. At least he couldn’t see that from behind me. But Gabe had taught me a thing or two. “You think?” I asked in a purr, while I quickly locked my hands together and shifted enough to my left to send my right elbow flying backward into his stomach.