Accused (Troubled Boys, Strong Men Book 1)

by Wendy Byrne

  When she looked at him like that he felt guilty. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it, Travis?”

  “Lexie really was here. At least I’m pretty sure she was. I told her to call you. Has she?” Now that his brain stopped being so fuzzy, he felt confident.

  She brought her hands to her face, “Thank God she’s all right.”

  He shook his head. “She’s so scared she was trying to get me to run away with her. That’s crazy isn’t it?”

  Her face went a little pale. She chewed on the corner of her lip and ran her fingers through her hair as she got up to pace the room. His mom always did that when she was nervous. “Did she say who she was hiding from?”

  “I was kinda out of it. For a while there I thought she was a figment of my imagination remember?”

  “Maybe we should let Detective Brock know.”

  “Whoah, Mom, don’t get carried away. You can tell Coach and Cole but the cops? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” Maybe he’d watched too many movies where the cop was the bad guy, but he didn’t want to take a chance. If anything happened to Lexie because of his big mouth he’d feel like shit.

  “Well, maybe she’ll call me.” She stopped moving long enough to sit on the side of his bed and hold his hand. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I dread the idea of you going back to that place.”

  “You and me both.”

  ***

  He’d done a lot of surveillance in his line of work, but didn’t expect to hear a gem like that listening outside the kid’s door. Good thing he’d volunteered to sit in for his cop friend when he went to take a leak. That little shit Lexie had actually snuck into the hospital without anyone seeing her.

  Man, what he would have given to get his hands on her. No doubt the girl was a fountain of information, and he had a serious need to find out as much as he could.

  But all wasn’t lost since he now knew she might try to get in touch with Jillian Beckett. That was the best news he’d had in a long time. Keeping an eye on Jillian Beckett’s whereabouts would be easy enough. Sooner or later the kid would try to make contact again—at least he hoped.

  Oh crap, look who was coming down the hall. Mr. Perfect.

  ***

  “So what do you think?” Sam asked Cole as they rode together up the hospital elevator to see Travis.

  “We need to question him about it and then destroy it, regardless of what he says. It’s damning either way.”

  Sam tried to keep his frustration in check as they walked down the hall to Travis’ hospital room, but when he pushed open the door, he was still wound pretty tight.

  Maybe it was guilt over not sharing what he’d found with Jillian. But she was already on overload. The last thing she needed was another setback.

  “Coach, Cole, I didn’t expect you guys.” Travis’ voice was energized when he spoke, even though the remnants of the fight were still on his face.

  “You’re not going to be too happy to see us when you see what we have.”

  “Huh?” His voice squeaked and he sat up in the bed. He’d changed into a pair of sweats and t-shirt his mother must have brought for him.

  “What is this?” Cole handed him the paper.

  Travis’ face went pale as he looked at it. “Oh man, I forgot about this.”

  “That’s not the answer we’re looking for.”

  Before Travis could respond, Sam’s phone rang. “Hey, Jillian.”

  “I found out about a party in Brentwood tonight. With a little luck, I can spot Jeremy.”

  “You planning on going?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll come with you.” The idea of her walking into danger made his stomach quiver.

  “That’s not going to work. I’m going to have to pull out all the stops, and hope for really poor lighting to pass for anything close to being in my twenties.” She laughed. “Besides, you seem to be famous around here. There’s a chance somebody might recognize you.”

  “But going in there alone—” He glanced up to see Travis staring at him. “Okay, maybe I can hang outside.”

  “I’ll talk to you later. I’ve got to find some young-looking clothes.” Without another word she hung up.

  “That was my mom?”

  “Don’t get distracted. We need to concentrate on this list so you can tell me what the hell you were thinking.”

  “I can explain.”

  ***

  Jillian yanked at the hem of the short denim skirt as she looked in the mirror. “Geez.” Never in a million years would she have worn anything like this, but knew she had to if she had even a slim chance of fitting in tonight. She layered a blue over a yellow tank top and slipped into a pair of wedge sandals.

  There was only so much she could do with her hair and ended up pulling it into the usual ponytail. She put on a heavy dose of mascara, smoky eye shadow and liner. After slipping on a slew of thin silver bracelets, she put on a pair of dangly earrings and looked in the mirror.

  Old teenager or young hooker? She couldn’t decide.

  Troy, the pool guy, had said the party would start around eleven. And while she was glad Sam was coming to pick her up, she once again felt obligated.

  As she awkwardly walked through the house in shoes she would normally never wear, she spotted Sam’s truck pulling into the driveway. She stuck some money into the small pocket of her skirt next to the pepper spray and walked out the door.

  ***

  Sam’s heart nearly stopped when she came outside. Jillian looked...well...beyond hot...Now he knew what the boys meant when they said smokin’.

  Her legs went on forever in that short skirt. And even though she had her hair pulled into a ponytail, it looked different. Maybe it was the makeup, maybe it was the way she sashayed out towards his car. He couldn’t decide. Most thirty-seven-year-old women could never pass for a twenty-year-old, but Jillian easily pulled it off.

  “I feel like an idiot. And I do believe I’m about to topple over in these shoes any second.”

  “You look—”

  “Like a fool. I know. I looked in the mirror, and I thought…hmm…hooker or tacky teenager? There’s a fine line there.”

  Sam gulped. “I was going to say you look amazing. I would have sworn you were your teenage daughter, except you don’t have a teenage daughter.”

  When he opened the passenger side door, she slipped inside, tugging at her skirt the whole time. “You’re only trying to build up my confidence.” She tugged some more as she attempted to get comfortable in the seat. “I don’t know how young girls dress like this. I’m one misstep away from exposing myself.”

  He tried not to shudder. Not that she was paying any attention, squirming in her seat the way she was.

  “What’s your plan?”

  “First of all, I’m going to hope like hell it’s dark in there. Then I’m going to put on a smile, mingle, talk about...I...don’t know.... What do teenage girls talk about?”

  “Sex, drugs and rock and roll?” Sam laughed.

  “Too bad I know nothing about any of those things,” she huffed. “Okay, so I know about sex, but probably not nearly as much as they do.” She shook her head. “Geez, did I say that out loud? Probably TMI but Archie and I...yeah, never mind... I must be nervous, I’m babbling.”

  Sam had a perverse need for her to keep talking but instead she clammed up. Before he knew it, they’d pulled in front of the address the pool guy had given her.

  “What are you going to do if something happens?”

  “I’ve got that cylinder of pepper spray in my pocket from the other day.” She patted the area just below her waist. “Spray it. And then I run like hell.”

  “I’m still not sure this is the way to play it. There’s no guarantee Jeremy will be there.” He didn’t even want to think about the possibility that Carlos might be there as well.

  “Neither Carlos or Jeremy will talk to us, so the only chance we might have is for me to s
noop around and see what I can find out about where they hang out. Maybe I’ll get lucky and one of them will be there.”

  “In that case, you need to come get me.”

  “Okay, Dad.” She gave him a cheeky smile. “You love to spoil all my fun.”

  She opened the door and got out, leaving behind a whiff of tangerine and an even more amazing glimpse of red underwear.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Jillian would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. She showed the card that Troy the pool guy had given her for admittance and paid the ten dollars at the door. The house was filled with the smell of pot and a whole lot of bad cologne. While music reverberated through the walls, some kids talked in groups, others danced, and still others were snorting what she presumed to be cocaine off the dining room table.

  Her son had gone to these parties? She suppressed a shudder as she weaved her way through the crowd.

  “Hey, Mickey, I’m glad you could make it.” Jillian couldn’t help jumping when Troy the pool guy grasped her elbow. “You find the place okay?”

  “No problem.” She had to shout into his ear to be heard.

  “You want some blow?” He steered her toward the dining room.

  “Not right now.” Damn, she felt awkward. “I can’t believe the cops don’t bust this place.”

  Troy laughed. “We pay them off. As long as things don’t get too out of hand, it works.”

  “Cool.” Scumbags, scumbags, scumbags.

  “We charge guys fifty bucks and girls ten. Then we hire a cleaning crew afterward.”

  “You’ve got everything figured out.”

  “Pretty much.” He steered her outside. “Let me show you the pool. There’s an awesome waterfall and a great hot tub too if you’re in the mood for skinny dipping.”

  She tried not to roll her eyes. Even though she wanted to ditch him and make the rounds to see if she spotted anyone familiar, she followed. The landscaping in the backyard created a tropical feel with lush plants and tons of greenery.

  Boys and girls in various states of undress were jumping in and out of the pool. Jillian suppressed the motherly instinct to intervene when a girl who looked like she might be only fourteen or so, stripped off her shirt and bra and dove into the pool. Every guy in the vicinity watched in rapt attention as she emerged seconds later, laughing.

  “That’s how they do things on the Riviera,” she shouted. She pumped her fist, welcoming the stares.

  Jillian’s heart squeezed as she took in the scene. She was sad for the girl, sad for an environment that bred this kind of disrespect.

  “Chloe doesn’t know when to say when if you know what I mean. The girl will try anything from booze to coke to pills, or all of them at once to get a buzz going.”

  Somehow Jillian resisted the urge to ask the girl’s age. Every instinct in her wanted to swoop up the misguided child and remove her from this place. She bit her lip when one of the boys came up to Chloe and rubbed a white powdery substance on her breasts then snorted it off.

  Jillian felt like crying as she watched the girl laugh and down a shot. Seconds later, she passed out. Nobody seemed to care. They walked past her half naked body as if she didn’t exist.

  “Isn’t anyone going to do anything?”

  Troy shrugged. “Naw, happens all the time. She’s like a diabetic or something.”

  “But she could die.” Jillian tried to keep the terror out of her voice, but based on the way Troy looked at her she wasn’t successful. “Maybe somebody should take her pulse or something.” She tried to temper her tone as she inched toward the still prone girl.

  “She’ll come around in a few minutes.” He moved closer. “Let’s you and me go somewhere private. They’ve got like ten bedrooms in this place.”

  She pushed him away and went with her instinct towards Chloe. When she bent down to check the girl’s pulse and found one she let out a breath.

  “I’m not feeling too good. Catch you later.” She straightened and started to leave.

  Before she got too far, he grabbed her elbow. “Are you a narc or something?”

  She narrowed her eyes and yanked her arm away. Without another word, she stomped out and rushed to Sam’s truck as fast as she could, slipped inside and slammed the door.

  ***

  Sam’s heart nearly seized when he spotted her sprinting across the grass towards his truck. She got in seconds later, a terrified look plastered on her face. Without a word to him, she frantically grabbed her phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  “I need to report a girl,” she sucked in a gulp of air. “She collapsed at a party, has a pulse but needs an ambulance.” She rattled off the address, then slumped back.

  “Are you all right?”

  She shook her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. “It was awful. I can’t believe Travis went to those things ...booze, coke, pills....Girls were stripping and jumping into the pool. That was bad enough but the girl that passed out .... God, I thought she was dead, but when I checked she was breathing and had a heartbeat. That Troy kid told me she’s a diabetic.” She yanked out her ponytail and tunneled her fingers through her hair. “The kid has no idea how dangerous drinking and drugs are when you have that condition.” She rubbed her hands down her face. “Those kids ignored her. They walked around her, like she wasn’t there. I can’t believe Travis would go to a place like this. It was frightening.”

  “Are you sure she’s all right? I know CPR. Maybe I can help her until the paramedics get here.” He had the door halfway open when the ambulance arrived followed by police cars. He started the truck as kids scattered, running across the lawn in front and down the street. Some were corralled by the waiting police officers. The quicker and more agile ones got away.

  “Do you want to wait and make sure the girl’s okay?”

  Jillian had barely said a word for the last few minutes. Finally, she blew out a breath. “I didn’t realize how bad it is at those parties. It makes me question why I wasn’t more on top of things with Travis. The thought that he participated in that kind of behavior makes me want to puke.”

  “You don’t know that he did.”

  “Come on, Sam, you know he did. I’m not that naïve. I should have been there for him.”

  “He’s sixteen-years-old. You can’t follow him around like a two-year-old to make sure he doesn’t screw up.” Sam blew out a breath to keep himself from saying more before he reined in his temper. For some reason she kept thinking it was her duty to prevent anything bad from ever happening to her son. “You can’t coddle him forever. And you can’t take responsibility for every wrong decision he makes. I don’t know about you, but I made a shitload of mistakes and I’m still around to tell the tale.”

  “I know you’re right, but damn, it’s hard to get to that point.”

  “On a positive note, I’ll bet it’s the last party you’ll ever get invited to.”

  She glanced at him. Though there were tears in her eyes, she barked out a laugh. “Yes, I do believe my days of dressing up like a teenage wannabe hooker are over.” She kicked off her shoes. “Thank God.”

  ***

  Sam.

  Jillian wished she could stop thinking about him. It seemed downright unmotherly to be semi-attracted—okay, very attracted—to him. Nothing could come of their relationship, but she sure liked being around him. He made her feel that anything was possible.

  Every time she was perched on that precarious ledge labeled Worst Mother in the World, he seemed able to talk her down and make her laugh. That must have explained why she’d agreed to go tonight. No sane woman would put herself through it.

  She hadn’t been able to weasel out of going to Valley High’s first game. Between Travis’ pleas and all Sam’s help, she couldn’t very well say no.

  The buzz of excitement slammed her before she even got to the bleachers. Groups of kids shouted and pushed each other good-naturedly as they made their way to their seats.

  She’d give anything to have Tra
vis here tonight. She plodded on, looking for a spot of joy while she felt as if the world were closing in on her.

  “Jillian.”

  She looked up and spotted Mama Iris surrounded by a bevy of women. Jillian waved in return. Mama Iris motioned for her to come join them.

  Her original plan had been to sit unobtrusively and hope no one would recognize her. And for a few seconds she thought about declining the invitation, fearful of what the other women might have to say about her son’s predicament. Surely they would judge her parenting skills. She’d become accustomed to hearing whispers behind her back.

  But when she reluctantly made her way up the steps to the middle of the bleachers, she found herself enveloped in a hug. After hug. Even though she’d never met these women, they transferred their support through their embrace.

  Tears dampened her lashes by the time she got to Mama Iris. That hug lasted the longest, as Jillian sank into her arms and allowed the comfort to settle inside.

  “Now, don’t you worry. It’s all going to work out. Travis will be on that field before the season ends. I’m always right about these things.”

  She didn’t dare contradict or question the validity of Mama’s words. “Thank you.”

  “Jillian, sit next to me,” she chuckled. “We like to discuss Sam’s play calls and if we disagree I’m not opposed to sending him a little note. Sometimes he listens to me. Sometimes he doesn’t.” She laughed again before making introductions.

  “I bet he loves that,” Jillian quipped.

  “My Sam is a good kid. Always has been. Just took him some time to get the idea through that thick head of his.” She patted Jillian’s hand. “He’s sweet on you. And I’m pretty sure you’re sweet on him too.”

  Jillian’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t want to seem so obvious. “He’s been a great friend to me.”

  “Friends with benefits are the best kind.” She chuckled before pointing toward the field. “The game’s starting.”