His ex-wife had been one of those women. It had taken three days after the wedding for her to catch on, but she did learn, and she became a great wife. He always came home to a hot meal, a clean house, and sex whenever and however he wanted it.
At least, he thought she was a good wife. Right up until he came home from a turn in North Dakota to find an empty house, divorce papers, and the wife nowhere to be found. He’d looked, but she did a good job of staying hidden. Better I didn’t find her.
Frankie was the only one of the boys in his family that hadn’t done time in Parchman for one thing or another. Not finding his wife had helped him stay out of prison.
Movement at Abernathy’s boat caught Frankie’s attention. That skinny man was making a lot of noise climbing off the boat. Roe had a gun trained on him, and he looked ready to pull the trigger. Frankie wanted him to pull the trigger. Stupid bum. He was no better than Abernathy, even if he hadn’t committed a crime that Frankie knew about.
The woman who showed up with Roe, stood on her tip toes and said something to Roe. He glanced at the girls and then shifted position so he could see them better without letting the skinny man, who was now sitting on the pier, out of his sight.
The woman’s movement captured Frankie’s attention. She was about average height for a woman, so he guessed around 5’5”. He liked that. She let Roe take the lead, which confirmed what he thought about her insecurities. Frankie liked that too. Though in his perfect world, she wouldn’t be playing detective with her cop boyfriend. She would be at home getting supper ready and preparing to ease his pent up frustrations from the day.
Frankie allowed himself a moment to imagine what she would be like in his bed. She would probably need some educating. Most women did. The thought warmed him against the chilly December air. Yes, teaching her to satisfy his needs would be a lot of fun.
Across the piers, Roe knelt to talk to the man from the boat. He kept looking at Abernathy, sprawled on the deck of the boat, and then around the docks, as if he was memorizing every detail. Frankie had heard he was good, but watching him in action was proof.
Yes, this could be a problem.
He pressed a button on the phone he'd been holding in his hand. The screen lit up and he shielded it with his hand. It was a risk to make the call right now, but he was far enough away that they wouldn't hear him. And he doubted that anyone on the dock was looking this way. They were all focused on what was happening around Abernathy’s boat.
“Well?” A male voice answered on the second ring.
“It's done.”
“And?”
“The girl was there with two others. They looked okay. Not hurt much. But we have a small problem.”
“I thought you could handle this.” Exasperation.
“I can. I did.” Frankie tried to control his anger. How dare he question Frankie's ability? “There's nothing to tie us to this. But Jack Roe is here. With some woman.” Frankie wasn't worried. He'd be gone in a few days and there was nothing to tie him to the murder of Dale Abernathy. Still, it needed to be addressed.
“Roe and Giveans? How?” Worry, tinged by frustration.
“Giveans. The woman? Is she Roe’s partner?” She actually was a detective. This really could be bad. Or it could be good. Frankie’s brain was processing fast. Roe had been a problem for the group in the past. He was hard to maneuver, and they tried to keep him away from the cases they took on.
Maybe this could work in their favor. Frankie was already seeing parts of a plan. They just all had to fall together. They would in time. And the woman? He needed time to think this through.
“Yes. Kate Giveans. That's Roe's partner and girlfriend. What the hell are they doing there?”
Kate. Frankie liked the name. Distinctly feminine. Almost old-fashioned. He bet it was short for Katherine. Now, there was a proper woman's name.
“I don't know. I didn't see where they came from. But they're here. We have to handle that part of it. You're inside. Can you handle it from there?”
“I’ll try.” The line went dead before Frankie could say anything more. He turned his attention back to the dock.
A uniformed officer had arrived, and was talking to Jack. Frankie could hear the voices, but he couldn't hear what was being said, so he turned his attention to Kate. He should watch what was happening around Abernathy’s boat, but it didn't matter, really. They would never trace those slugs back to him. They'd trace them to a drug dealer. Just like the drugs that Abernathy clutched in his dead hand. A drug deal gone wrong. That's all they would find.
Besides, the thoughts he was having about Kate Giveans were much more interesting. He watched her move around the dock, talking to the girls and different members of the group. Then conversing with the uniformed officer, and when they arrived, with the crime scene techs. She held her head high, her blonde hair catching in the breeze every now and then. She'd push it back from her face, and Frankie could imagine running his fingers through it. Even from here, it looked silky and soft. He imagined the feel of those silky strands balled in his fist and knew that one day, she would submit to him. By the time he was done with her, she would want to submit to him.
FIVE
Kate stayed one step behind Jack as he moved to the edge of the pier. The crime scene tech held a plastic bag up toward Jack, but Kate couldn't tell what it was from her vantage point. She had a hunch though. Only one reason the dead man would be holding something like that.
“Drugs?” Kate's question was quiet, but the tech nodded.
“Looks like crystal meth,” Jack snapped on a pair of latex gloves the tech handed him and took the package, holding it toward the glow of a portable light that had been set up on the deck of the boat. The bag was full to the top of small white crystals that would have been pretty if Kate hadn’t known what they were.
“I think you're right.” The crime scene tech took the bag back from Jack. “It was in his left hand. And this isn't just for personal use. With the quantity in that bag, our guy had to have been planning to sell it.”
“Can you tell if he was using?” Jack leaned to look closely at the face of the dead man.
“Not definitively.” The crime scene tech lifted the man’s head slightly and pulled back his lips to reveal yellowed, but otherwise healthy teeth. “If he was, he wasn't a long-time user. Meth really does a number on a person's teeth. It strips away the enamel and accelerates decay. He might have been using, but not for long. We'll run a drug panel, just to be sure.”
“How long will that take?” Kate didn't expect the answer she received. She was used to being ignored by crime scene techs and even other detectives.
“Usually a few days to a week,” the crime scene tech looked at her. “But it's quiet right now. I'm sure we can push it through. These types of drugs are easily detectable in a quick drug test.” He directed the next statement to Jack. “Call me tomorrow, and I should have it for you.”
Wow. That almost never happened. Not just the fact that the crime scene tech was going to see that the drug test was pushed through, but also that he had responded to her. Even after she and Jack had helped stop a serial killer back in September - she had even saved Jack's life – many of the people they worked with regularly hadn't been friendly to her. She felt like she might have finally crossed some threshold. Maybe they were starting to trust her enough to include her.
“Great. Thanks. One more thing,” Jack indicated the small plastic bag he'd been examining earlier. “Any idea where that might have come from?”
The crime scene tech smiled. “Always with the hard questions, Roe.” The smile wrinkled the dark skin around his eyes, and Kate decided the smile looked good on him. “I'm guessing you didn't see the little sticker on the back corner.” He handed the package back to Jack who flipped the package over and stared intently at it for a moment.
“Oh. I missed it. But now I see why.” Jack held the package out to Kate.
She leaned in close to see the emblem that the
crime scene tech mentioned. The sticker was tiny and mostly clear. Just a round circle about the size of a pencil eraser. But right in the center of it, in silver foil, were three small dots, arranged in a triangle. She gasped when she saw it.
Could it really be this simple?
“That's the symbol for Locos Mamoncetes.” Kate couldn't keep the surprise from her voice.
“Locos who?” Jack's gaze snapped to her.
“Locos Mamoncetes. It's a Latin gang. It means 'Crazy Bastards.' I knew they were in Miami and North Florida, but I had no idea they had moved into Mississippi.” “How do you know this?” Jack asked.
“Ryan. He was an undercover cop in Miami for a little while. He hated it. Said it was dangerous and he never felt like he was accomplishing anything. That's why he moved. He was good at his job, Jack, but he wanted to feel like he was making a difference. He said he never did in Miami. I always wondered if it was more, but that was all he would tell me.”
SIX
“Tell me more about this gang that Ryan worked,” Jack broke the silence that had settled in since they left the docks.
It was nearly midnight and both of them were exhausted. Kate knew however that Jack’s brain kept cranking, trying to make connections, even when he was physically spent.
“I don't know much,” She shook her head. “Ryan never wanted to talk about it. I only knew because I saw his file after we became partners. I asked him about it, and he told me that he'd worked undercover in the gang, but that was all he would say. I asked about it a couple of times, but he would shake his head, and tell me that it was in the past, he was doing more good now. There was something he wouldn't tell me.” She looked out the window at the lights from the coast reflecting off the water.
“Something, like what?” Jack pushed.
“I don't know. I think it was worse than he let on. I think something bad happened. Something that haunted him.” She picked at her fingernails. “When I'd ask about it, he would go all quiet, and sometimes he would stay that way for hours. Ryan wasn't a quiet kind of guy. He was very high strung.”
The silence sunk back over the cab of Jack's Silverado truck. Kate glanced at Jack as he turned into his drive. He'd bought this house after he became Lisa's guardian. His sister, Leslie, died at the hands of the serial killer who nearly killed him, too. The experience had changed Jack and Lisa. Lisa, who had been a wild child with Gothic tendencies before her mother's death, had become an extraordinary young lady. She focused on school work, found new friends, and spent as much time as she could with her Uncle Jack. Jack had sold the condo and bought this house. His department issued car sat in the lot at the precinct, and he drove his truck most of the time.
The house had been pretty close to a disaster when he bought it. After Hurricane Katrina had wiped out most of the coast, what was left was in shambles. Many home owners had decided they didn't want to re-invest in a property so close to the coastline. Jack was the opposite. He loved the smell of the beach, the sound of the gulls as they skimmed the water or sat guarding the beach, and sitting on the front porch, watching the water. He'd put a lot of time into the house since he bought it, and there was still much to be done, but at least now it was livable.
They'd had their first Thanksgiving together in this house, barely more than a week ago. The thought of it still left a warm glow in Kate's stomach. It had been a wonderful long weekend. They’d felt like a family and Kate wanted more of that. Does Jack want more? Kate wasn’t sure.
“Earth to Kate?” Jack said, his hand on hers interrupting her musings. So much had changed. And all of it was good.
Kate squeezed his hand back. “Sorry. I was just thinking about this house.” Jack had parked in the half-moon drive, just to one side of the front walkway.
“It is a great house. But you know what?” he inclined his head, and his eyes sparkled.
“What?” Kate asked, feeling herself drawn into his playful mood.
“It's even better on the inside. With you. Where it's warm!” He pushed the door open and climbed out of the truck.
He was right, of course. The inside of the house was warm and welcoming, and even though plastic sheeting separated the back part of the house from the front, it couldn’t take away from the Christmas decorating they had started. The tree wasn’t up yet, but it would be soon and the garland, lights, and ribbon they’d hung earlier made the living room and kitchen look even more inviting.
Kate had shared many movies and meals with Jack and Lisa in those two rooms over the last few months. To share Christmas with them was going to be the best gift of all.
“Lisa, we're back.” Jack called up the stairs and then turned into the kitchen. Lisa’s light was still on in her room, and Kate could hear her music as she walked past the stairway.
“Coffee?” Jack was already at the pot, adding grounds and water to get the brew started.
Kate nodded and Lisa bounced into the room. She'd be eighteen soon, but sometimes it still seemed like there was a little kid buried inside that nearly adult body.
“How was the parade?” Lisa asked as she hugged Kate and then Jack.
“The parade was great. The after party, not so much fun.” Jack answered, and his shoulders slumped a little.
“What after party?” Lisa's brows pulled together in confusion.
“There was a murder at the dock.” Jack said. “We’re probably going to be working long hours for the next few days.”
“Oh.” Lisa's vibrancy dimmed. “What about...”
“The pageant?” Kate cut her off. She already knew what Lisa was going to say. She's been looking forward to this for weeks, practicing with the other girls in her drama group. The twelve of them had developed and choreographed the entire Christmas pageant on their own, with only minimal guidance from their drama teacher. It was all Lisa had talked about since the idea sprouted and turned to reality.
Kate and Jack had helped with costumes and scenery as much as possible around their schedules. Kate loved being involved. It was Lisa’s senior year in high school, and this was a very big deal for her. To be included made Kate feel like they had a little family. She wanted that, even if Lisa was leaving in a few months to go to college. Kate just didn’t know if Jack felt the same way. She knew Lisa did. They had talked about it a few times.
“Nothing is going to keep me from that pageant.” Jack said.
“Me either,” Kate added.
Lisa's face brightened again. “Good! Because we need your help,” she said to Jack. “And you both have to be there. You're not going to believe it Kate. It's going to be so amazing.”
“Lisa.” Jack cut Lisa off before she could launch into a never-ending discourse about the pageant. “It's already late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I was just waiting on you guys and finishing up some homework.” She hugged them both again, kissed Jack on the cheek, then headed back up the stairs, tossing a “'Nite,” over her shoulder as she went.
Jack sat two cups of coffee on the kitchen island and dropped into a bar stool. “I wish I had that kid's energy.”
Kate stifled a yawn. She did too. To be eighteen again and have more than enough midnight oil to keep her going for days.
She slid onto the stool next to Jack and he put his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him.
“I was thinking,” Kate said as she snuggled into the warmth of Jack's side. “I wonder if Ryan crossed someone in Miami? You think maybe that's why he wouldn't talk about it?”
SEVEN
Sunday morning, Kate woke just as the sky was lightening into sunrise. Jack lay beside her, his breathing deep and even. He wasn't the one that snored. She was. At first, Jack had laughed about it; he teased her every time they spent the night together. As more time passed, he became accustomed to it, and he rarely mentioned it now.
She often woke before him, and laid next to him listening to his deep, even breathing. She would reach out and place her hand on his shoulder or his back, and kn
ow that she was safe as long as she was with him.
This morning, she couldn't remain still. There was so much on her mind. The murder. The drugs. Locos Mamoncetes. Ryan. Jack. Especially Jack. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but would that scare him away?
Since she couldn’t sleep, Kate slipped out of the bed and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. As it brewed, echoes of the conversation with Jack the night before played over in her head. Could Ryan have been involved in something when he was working in Miami? Of course it was possible.
A detective couldn't get involved in the narcotics unit without it getting messy at some point. Whether he was identified or become addicted or turned dirty, any long-term narcotics detective faced challenges that only the super-human could resist. Was Ryan super-human? Kate doubted it. She'd known Ryan for several years before he was killed. He was more a bad boy than he was an altar boy.
She reasoned through that as she poured the first cup of coffee and added a liberal amount of cream and sugar. What could Ryan have been involved in? She ran through her memories of him, trying to find one clue or indication of what it might have been. Nothing. There was no misstep or vague comment that might point to something. He'd always said that he just wanted to make a difference and in Miami he never felt that he was.
As soon as one drug dealer was taken off the streets, another took over his territory and then a larger problem existed. Occasionally the task force that Ryan was involved in would catch a break and nail some high level organization leader, but even then, it didn't take long before someone took his place. The few stories that Ryan shared with her gave her no reason to believe that he was involved in anything more.
A Biloxi Christmas: A Novella (The Biloxi Series) Page 3