“Why are they AFTER ME?” Juarez was losing patience.
“Abernathy,” She said. He'd give the woman credit. She had even flinched when he raised his voice. “The Mamoncetes are being blamed for Abernathy's murder.”
“I wish I had murdered that traitor.” Juarez finished off his whiskey and shook the ice cubes. He waited until it had been refilled before he spoke again. “Why am I being singled out for this murder?”
“They found our drugs on Abernathy.” This time, the woman's voice dropped and she looked down. She knew he was not going to take this news well.
Juarez slung his half empty drink across the room. It crashed into the wall, the glass shattering and whiskey splattering in every direction. “How?” he roared.
“I don't know,” she raised her chin. That was what he liked about this woman. She wasn't afraid to deal with a tough situation. “I've checked. None of our people sold it to him. He was known to despise our organization. None of my people would deal with him.”
Choruses of “Mine either.” rang around the room.
“Well Roe’s coming to my church. Tomorrow! For drugs that no one in my organization sold and a murder that I didn’t commit.” Juarez paced the room. Why all of this? Why now?
He would dare to come to MY church? To interrupt MY worship time? Juarez couldn't believe that any person would be so disrespectful. He wanted to scream and break things, and maybe kill someone. Instead, he took a deep breath, stood and straightened his suit jacket and said, “Enough why. It doesn’t matter. He’s coming for me, and we'll be ready for him tomorrow. I don't need this Frankie's money, but I. Want. This. Man. Dead.”
“And the woman? His partner?” The young man that had spoken up first asked.
“Oh, I’m going to kill her myself.”
TWENTY-TWO
Jack pulled into the empty parking spot next to Kate's Charger and looked up at her apartment. Every light in the apartment was on. Not like her. Kate liked light, but she was always conscious to turn out lights when she left a room. He wondered what she was doing that she needed all the lights on.
He knew she was mad at him. She should be. You were a real jerk to her earlier. He was. And sitting here, thinking about what a cretin he was wouldn't fix the problem. He stepped from the car, squared his shoulders, and climbed the stairs to her apartment.
After he knocked, Jack could hear Kate inside. He sensed more than saw her looking through the peep hole. For a moment, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the world. He didn't breath. Couldn't breathe. She's not going to open the door. He felt the ring in his pocket and his heart broke. He'd finally found a woman worth holding on to, and he'd screwed it up.
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and felt the ring. He was ready to turn back toward the stairs when the door opened. Kate stood, backlit by the brightness inside the apartment, and it took his breath away. Jack opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come; he couldn't reconcile the thoughts swirling in his head. A sense of loss braided with overwhelming grief and a stronger sense of hope seized his thoughts.
Kate stepped forward and wrapped her hands around his middle, dropped her head to his chest. “I'm sorry,” she whispered into the rough fabric of the shirt he'd thrown on that morning as they scrambled to get out the door. Had it only been a few hours ago? It seemed like a lifetime.
“It wasn't your fault, Kate.” Jack found his voice as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tighter to him. “I was a jerk,” he said.
They stood like that, entwined in each other’s arms until a car door in the parking lot thunked shut. Kate pulled back and without letting him go completely, she stepped back into the apartment and closed the door.
“What's with all the lights?” Jack asked.
“I-” Kate started and stopped again. “I, um. I just didn't want to be in the dark.” She hugged him tightly again, and Jack could feel her muscles tremor beneath his hands.
“Hey, are you okay?” He pushed her back and looked into her eyes. Something was wrong. Was it just what happened earlier? Was she still upset? Jack couldn’t tell and the stress that strangled him before she opened the door returned.
Kate's gaze dropped to his chest and she spun around. “Want some coffee?” She disappeared into the small kitchen.
Jack followed, unsure what had just happened. Had she decided they were too different?
“Sure,” he leaned against the door frame and watched her busy herself with the coffee maker. She pulled a mug from the rack she kept on the counter and started the coffee. When she moved to a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen to pull down the sugar, Jack spotted a new coffee mug sitting on the counter.
“Where'd you get this?” He picked it up and examined it. I <3 My Man. Simple. White cup with black writing and a red heart. He liked it.
Kate stilled. “It was a gift.” Her voice had gone flat.
Jack sensed the change in her. He placed a hand on her rigid shoulder. “Someone you didn't like?” He asked.
The quiver that Jack had felt when he first hugged Kate turned to a full shake. Her head dipped down. She sucked in a ragged breath.
Slowly she turned to him. “I don't know who it's from,” she said. She stared at a spot on his chest. “Someone was in my apartment,” she said so softly Jack almost missed it.
It took a minute for the thought to process. “What?” Jack's question was half asking what she'd said and half disbelief that he'd heard what he thought he heard.
Kate glanced up at him and then away just as quickly. “Someone was in my apartment.” She said again, her voice a little stronger.
“Who? How do you know? Why -” didn't you call me? She had called him. He hadn't answered. He hadn't even listened to the message that she left for him.
“I don't know.” She said and slipped past him and walked down the hall into her bedroom. Jack was two steps into the hallway when she came back through the bedroom door holding a wad of shiny fabric in one hand and a piece of paper in another.
She thrust the fabric at him. “At first, I thought it was you.” Her voice was shaky, but stronger than it had been a moment before. “But this,” and she shoved the paper in his direction, “isn't your handwriting.”
Jack looked at the fabric in his hand. It was silky. Lacy. Lingerie. He stared at it for a moment, his mind bouncing from thoughts of Kate in something like that to the question echoing in his mind. Who was in her apartment? Why did he think he had the right to leave this kind of gift for Kate?
Except he didn't know if this was a man or a woman. Of course it's a man. What woman would leave lingerie for another woman? But he knew that it wasn't that simple. If the case a few months ago had taught him anything it was that women could be much more unstable than men.
Kate shook the note, making the paper rattle. Her face held a look of expectation.
Jack opened the paper and read the simple inscription. Anger, frustration, and fear mixed in the pit of his stomach. Someone was stalking Kate.
“How do you know that whoever left this,” he shook the lingerie, “is the person that left the cup? Maybe you accidentally brought the cup home from the precinct?”
Jack stopped and held up a hand. “Wait. You need to tell me what happened. From the beginning,” he said, and he walked back into the kitchen and placed the wadded lingerie onto the counter next to the coffee mug.
Kate went through the story, including the detail about the missing detective mug. By the time she finished, her shoulders drooped. “I wasn't going to tell you,” she said. “It's probably nothing. I've already called to have the locks changed tomorrow.”
“Nothing?” Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. “How could you think this is nothing, Kate? Whoever this is has been in your apartment. They could have still been here when you came in.” And it was my fault you didn't just go to my house tonight. What if something had happened to you? The thought that someone could have hurt Kate both frightened and made Jack a
ngry. He loved her. He couldn't let anything happen to her.
“You need to pack a bag,” he said, more harshly than he intended to. “You're staying at my house.”
“But -” Kate started. He could see the color rising in her cheeks.
“Kate,” Jack tried again. Gentler this time. “Please don't argue with me about this. I need to know that you're safe.”
Kate nodded and went toward the bedroom. Jack waited until he could hear her moving around in the back of the apartment, and then he reached under the sink for a paper bag. He slipped the coffee cup and lingerie into the bag and folded the top. Kate was still in the bedroom gathering her things, so he called a friend who worked the crime scene unit.
“Thanks for picking up, Scott.”
“I saw your number, Jack. I knew if you were calling, it had to be important.” The crime scene tech and Jack had become friends when Jack first came back to Biloxi. They occasionally had a drink or a meal together, and had even gone camping together a time or two.
“Yeah, it is.” Jack launched into an explanation of what had happened at Kate's apartment. “If I drop these off to you, do you think you might be able to run them and see if there are any prints or anything else that might point to who this might be?”
“Yeah, sure, Jack. But you know the chances are slim, right?” Scott sounded like he was trying to soothe an upset child.
“I do, but I've got to try.” By the time Jack finished the conversation with Scott, Kate had reappeared from the bedroom, switching off lights as she came down the hall. She stood in front of Jack, pale and looking as if she'd just received bad news.
“This is going to be okay, Kate.” Jack reached for her and pulled her in close.
“It's not this that worries me the most,” Kate whispered into his chest.
TWENTY-THREE
Kate sat on Jack's front porch, listening to the faint sounds of the water on the beach. Real waves were rare on the Biloxi beaches. Waves were usually only noticeable when there was a storm coming in, because of the geography of the coast line, but when it was quiet, Kate could still hear the movements of the water caused by tides. It was a gentle lapping sound that was usually comforting to her.
Tonight, however, her soul refused to be comforted. She still didn't know how to feel about what happened with Jack earlier in the day. And the whole deal with whoever had been in her house. That made her concerns about Jack seem trivial.
Despite his views, he was a good man. He was the first person she’d thought of after the surprise in her apartment. When he showed up at her door, all she could do was fall into his arms. Now her mind was going in circles and it was getting the best of her.
The whole day just seemed to be one big stressful event. She sipped the coffee Jack had handed her shortly after they walked into his door. She'd taken it without a word and walked out to the front porch. He's barely said anything to me since we got here. I bet he doesn't even want me here.
She was contemplating a plan to find a hotel room when he pushed through the screen door and sat heavily in the chair beside her. For a while, the only sound was the water from the beach and the occasional car that would pass by on Beach Blvd.
After a while, Jack leaned forward in the chair, placed his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. “Listen, Kate,” he said as he slowly raised his head to look directly at her with his piercing blue eyes. “I was a real jerk, earlier. I'm sorry.”
Kate's breath caught in her chest. He was apologizing? “But -.”
“No but,” he said taking her hand. “I know I said some things that you don’t agree with. I can’t really even explain it or make excuses except to say, what if one of those girls had been Lisa? That’s all I can think about, Kate. But it’s no excuse for being so harsh with you. For that, I really am sorry.”
Kate sat silently for a few moments. She didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t know how to feel about the whole situation.
Finally, she lifted his hand to her lips and placed kisses on the tops of each knuckle. He looked absolutely miserable. “We all have bad days now and then,” she said, trying to smooth things over even though she wished the whole conversation earlier had never happened.
She had always believed Jack was an honest and balanced man. Now she’d seen a side of him that she couldn’t unsee, and she wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“I won't hold it against you if you don't hold it against me when it happens,” Kate said what she thought he wanted to hear. “Because some day it will, Jack Roe. And you're not going to know what hit you.”
Jack chuckled. “I'll keep that in mind.” He leaned in and kissed her, a long, hungry kiss.
Kate could lose herself in that feeling, and she tried to know, to forget all that had happened today. She loved when he kissed her like she was the only woman on earth. It made her trust in how much he cared for her and she needed that right now. She let her self be drawn in by the warm taste of his soft lips. A sigh built in her chest, and when he pulled away from her, it escaped, leaving her feeling the absence of his closeness.
He cleared his throat. “There's something else.”
Kate drew back and looked at his face in the dim light coming through the screen door. His eyes were tight, the small wrinkles at their corners accentuated by the shadows in the dim light.
She lifted an eyebrow and waited.
“We got a lead. John Juarez is taking credit for Abernathy’s murder. He might be involved in those girls being kidnapped, too. He's supposed to be at the Saint Francis Church in the morning for confession and prayers. Around ten. I want to go try to talk to him.” Jack looked wary of her response.
“Good,” Kate held her thoughts on Jack bringing up the kidnapping. If Juarez was their guy, they could finish the homicide investigation and then maybe he would let everything else go. Maybe not being exposed to the case every day would help.
Juarez wasn’t going to admit to paying someone to kill Abernathy just because they asked. Kate knew that, but for the moment she wanted to believe it would be that easy.
“Maybe we'll be able to sew this thing up quickly and have a quiet Christmas.” It was their first Christmas together and Kate had spent hours obsessing over it.
They started decorating Jack's house before the boat parade. The plan was to finish it after the parade. It still wasn’t done, and she hadn’t even thought about decorating her place. She wasn’t there much, anyway. If they could finish this case, maybe they could go back to celebrating Christmas. Together.
“That's all I want for Christmas, beautiful.” Jack ran his thumb along her jawline. “I just want to have a few days of peace and quiet with you and Lisa.”
TWENTY-FOUR
December on the Gulf Coast can be unpredictable. One morning, it might be 35 degrees when you get out of bed. The next day it could be 75. Kate had spent a few Christmases in shorts, but she didn't think that was going to be the case this year. Even with the sun shining brightly down on them, it was a chilly day. Kate pulled her jacket tighter around her, as she walked next to Jack.
A large pin oak spread massive branches out in all directions above the parking lot of the St. Francis Catholic Church. In the summer, it would have provided cooling shade. This time of year, the leaves were all gone, but the shadows from the branches threw intricate patterns across the asphalt.
“I want to just try to talk to him,” Jack said as they neared the large double doors that led into the sanctuary. “It would be best if we could do this without creating a scene.”
“I'd like to believe -.” Kate felt herself pushed backward hard. The words she was about to say hung on her lips, even as her back slammed into the pavement. Her thoughts shifted, jumbled. Why had Jack pushed her down? Her head smacked the pavement and her vision narrowed. White pin pricks were swallowed by approaching darkness.
“Kate!” Jack rushed to her as a bullet whizzed past his head.
Kate struggled to push up fro
m the ground, but her left arm wouldn't work. Pain scorched through her left side. She touched her shoulder with the fingers of her right hand. Agonizing shocks radiated out from where her fingers touched. She pulled her hand away.
Blood. My blood. Someone shot me.
Jack grabbed her right arm and tried to help her forward. Intense pain consumed her. She screamed out.
“Kate, we have to move!” Another bullet dug into the pavement beside her. “Someone is shooting from the roof, stay low.”
Kate found the strength to scramble back toward the car.
Jack helped as much as he could with one hand. With the other, he pointed his Glock 9 mm toward where the shots were coming from the roofline and fired.
More shots. Kate couldn’t tell where they were coming from. She couldn’t focus.
She leaned against the car, willing her mind to clear and her muscles to obey her commands. She needed to help Jack.
With jerky movements, she pulled her own gun from the holster under her damaged shoulder and bit her lip against the searing pain. Breathe girl. You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine.
Those five words continued on a loop in her brain as Kate lifted her gun. She wasn't even sure she could hit anything with one hand, but she had to try.
It registered somewhere deep in her consciousness that she heard Jack talking to someone, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Just as she was going to ask him, her peripheral vision picked up a movement headed toward them from the side. She looked up and a short, well-built man stepped from behind one of the pin oaks and raised a gun.
Jack! Kate's brain registered the man. Jack didn't know he was there.
She braced her back against the car, raised her gun and fired three quick shots. Each shot jolted through her sending mind numbing waves of pain over her entire body. By the third shot, she couldn’t hold the gun up any longer.
The man stood for a moment, a look of disbelief on his face, and then he fell forward. His gun skittered across the pavement out of his reach.
A Biloxi Christmas: A Novella (The Biloxi Series) Page 8