Weeping Walls

by Gerri Hill

  “Special Agents Freeman, Calhoun,” he said. He smiled, trying to put her at ease. “First of all, we’re not here to do a bust. This isn’t an immigration issue.”

  She relaxed but only slightly. “What…what can I help you with?”

  “We’d like to speak to the owner. Mr. Thompson? We’re just needing some information,” he said.

  She nodded, already reaching for the phone. He noticed that her hand was shaking.

  “Dad? There are two FBI agents here.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She looked up at Ice skeptically, then hung up without another word. “He’s in the back.”

  “Down the hallway?” Billy asked.

  “Yes. He’ll meet you.”

  “Thank you.”

  They walked around the counter and into the hallway. A door at the far end opened and a tall man wearing a baseball cap came in. He took his cap off and brushed at his hair as he came closer.

  “I’m Shane Thompson,” he said.

  Ice held out his hand. “DeMarcus Freeman.”

  “Billy Calhoun,” Billy said as he also shook his hand. “Is there a place we can talk?”

  “My office,” he said.

  They followed him into a cluttered room, where he immediately began straightening papers on his desk.

  Ice sat down in one of the chairs and Billy did the same. Shane Thompson watched them, then put the papers he’d been sorting down on his desk.

  “How can I help you?” he asked, finally sitting.

  “You can start by relaxing,” Ice said with a quick smile. “We’re looking for information only. We’re not here to go through your employment records.”

  “Look, they come to me with papers, that’s all I need. I know some of them are forged, but hell, I’d go out of business without them. There’s nobody in this town that’ll do the work they do.”

  “We’re not here for that, Mr. Thompson,” Billy said. “It’s about the little boy who was found last week, over in Pecan Grove.”

  “Hispanic. No one’s come forward to claim the body. We believe he’s undocumented. And his family too,” Ice said.

  “Is that why the FBI’s involved? Because he’s undocumented?”

  “No,” Ice said but did not elaborate.

  “You think he’s from here? My place?”

  “Is he?”

  “I house twenty-four families,” he said. “Most have kids. I don’t know them all, of course.”

  “Have you heard anything?”

  He studied them for a long moment, then shook his head. “No.”

  Ice had been in the business long enough to know when someone was lying to him. So he tried again. “Look, I promise you, I don’t care about their papers or whether they’re real or not. I only care about identifying the boy and finding out what happened to him.”

  Thompson’s eyes narrowed. “The last time the Feds were here, they took sixteen of my guys away. I damn near lost everything. Why should I trust you?”

  “We’re not immigration officers,” Billy said. “We’re working a possible homicide.”

  Thompson’s eyebrows shot up. “Homicide?”

  “We just need your help,” Ice said.

  “You know who the boy was?” Billy asked.

  Thompson seemed to contemplate the question but gave a noncommittal answer. “Maybe.”

  Ice let out a frustrated sigh. “Will the parents talk to us?”

  Thompson shook his head. “No way. I employ them, I protect them. They trust me. You guys step back there and I won’t see them for a week.”

  Ice leaned forward. “Look, I’m telling you this in the strictest confidence,” he said. “This hasn’t been released to the media. The boy was most likely hit by a car. But then someone choked him, strangled him, hard enough to break his neck,” he said “The body was left at an abandoned house in Pecan Grove, but we don’t believe he was killed there.”

  Thompson stared at him but said nothing.

  “We want to identify the boy,” Billy said. “And hopefully find out who did this. Maybe somebody saw something.” He paused. “I’m sure the parents want him, want to give him a proper funeral.”

  Shane Thompson finally leaned back, his facial expression changing. “You know, when it was first on the news, I didn’t even consider it was someone from here. I mean, all the way over in Pecan Grove, you know.” He slowly shook his head. “Then I started hearing things.” He sat up again and squared his shoulders. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you,” Ice said. He pulled out his card and handed it to Thompson. “We’ll be in town at least through tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  He and Billy stood and Ice reached out his hand, firmly shaking Thompson’s. “You’ve got quite an impressive operation here. It must be successful.”

  “Thank you. Yeah, it’s grown, that’s for sure. I’m third generation. My father is still alive and he has a hand in it still. Now my son is on board so we’re going on four generations here,” he said proudly. “But I can’t get anyone in town to work out here. My guys here, I pay them well, I take care of them. I can trust them to do the job.”

  “I understand. We’ll let you get back to it. Look forward to hearing from you.”

  Once back outside, the afternoon humidity made it feel more like August than October. Ice pulled at the collar of his shirt, thinking he’d follow CJ’s dress code and opt for an FBI T-shirt tomorrow.

  “That was more productive than I thought,” Billy said. “Makes you wonder why the sheriff’s department didn’t come out here.”

  “Yeah, I know. They did a half-ass job all the way around.”

  Back in Billy’s truck, Ice pushed the window up and turned the AC vent toward his face.

  “I’m feeling like a steak for dinner,” Billy said. “You think we could talk Paige into a steakhouse?”

  “Only if CJ agrees.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Three against one. But have you noticed how CJ has been accommodating to Paige lately? I mean, hell, at the bar the other night, they shared bean nachos with no cheese. And you know how much CJ likes cheese.”

  Billy’s voice lowered as if afraid they’d be overheard. “You think something’s going on with them?”

  “Why do you keep asking me that question? You know as much as I do.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Steak? You want steak?” Paige turned to CJ. “You too?”

  CJ nodded. “The guy downstairs said there’s a place up Highway 59 that has chicken fried steaks that are this big,” she said, holding her hands apart.

  “And a rib eye that is two inches thick,” Billy added.

  Paige shook her head. “Sure. Take me to carnivore hell. I guess I can get a baked potato.”

  “They have fish and shrimp too,” CJ said. “You know, in case you want to cheat a little, but not go all the way to the dark side.”

  Paige wondered if CJ knew that shrimp was her number one weakness. She already felt her resolve slipping as she imagined biting into a juicy, succulent shrimp. Damn, but it was hard being vegan.

  They found the restaurant without incident—all four of them riding in CJ’s truck. Paige took pity on Ice and sat in the back seat with Billy. It was nearing seven, but the parking lot was only half full. They were seated immediately and again they opted for a booth.

  “You want to get a pitcher of beer and split it?” Billy asked.

  “I’m in,” CJ said as she looked over the menu.

  Ice flagged down a waitress and ordered the beer. A bowl of roasted peanuts was placed on their table, and Ice and Billy each grabbed a handful.

  “Looks like our kind of place,” Ice said as he cracked open a shell.

  Paige had to agree, but it still startled her sometimes when she thought about what was normal for her now compared to her early life. Not that she went out much. The bar they all hung out at in Houston was as familiar
to her as anything. And since she and CJ had become lovers, nights out for dinner had been replaced with cooking in and just spending time together. Of course, since she’d changed her diet and started eating healthier, cooking in was so much simpler than trying to wade through menus looking for something she could eat.

  Like now.

  She let her gaze slide over to the seafood section, landing on fried shrimp, then grilled shrimp. She closed the menu quickly.

  Four frosted mugs and a pitcher of beer were placed on the table, and CJ carefully filled each mug. They all took their glasses, meeting in the middle of the table with a silent toast.

  “Oh, yeah. Nice and cold,” CJ said.

  Their waitress was back with pad and pen, looking at them expectantly. “Ready to order?”

  “Chicken fried steak,” CJ said. “Mashed potatoes instead of fries.”

  “Mixed vegetables or corn?”

  “I’ll have the mixed veggies.” She winked at Paige. “Gotta get something healthy in me.”

  “I want a rib eye, medium rare,” Billy said. “Baked potato and corn.”

  “Same,” Ice said. “Although more medium than rare.”

  “And you?”

  Paige bit her lower lip, trying to chase images of shrimp from her mind. “Baked potato. Mixed veggies.” She closed her eyes. Damn. “And grilled shrimp,” she said as she handed her menu to the waitress.

  CJ laughed. “Oh, yeah…come to the dark side,” she teased.

  Paige leaned forward. “It’s your fault. You had to mention shrimp. Nice, juicy…succulent shrimp,” she said slowly, her eyes never leaving CJ’s.

  CJ’s mouth turned up in a smile. “If you want something juicy and succulent, I can help you out there.”

  Even though she knew it was coming, she blushed anyway. “Easy, tiger. Don’t embarrass the boys.”

  CJ laughed. “You’re the one blushing, not them.”

  The guys laughed too. “I think I may have blushed a little on that one,” Billy confessed.

  Paige took a swallow of her beer. “Let’s talk business,” she said. “What’s on the agenda tomorrow?”

  “Hopefully Shane Thompson will call and we can go out and interview the parents,” Ice said. “I’m debating whether we should include Deputy Brady and his team.”

  “They dropped the ball,” CJ said. “Howley said it’s technically our case if we want to work it.”

  “He also said if the cases weren’t linked to let the locals have it,” Billy reminded her.

  “So we tell him we think they are linked. Simple.”

  “I swear, do you ever follow the rules?” Billy asked.

  CJ smirked. “Baldy, tell him.”

  “Rules are subjective and ever-changing,” Ice said.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Oh, Billy boy, it means that CJ’s interpretation of Howley’s directive might be different than yours…or Howley’s.” Ice grinned. “Or mine.”

  “It means rules are made to be broken,” CJ said with a mischievous grin.

  Billy shook his head. “I’m surprised you haven’t been suspended yet.”

  “What? Me?” CJ added more beer to her mug. “If I recall correctly, the last verbal directive we were given was ‘don’t shoot anyone’ when we were in Hoganville. And I do believe I did not fire my weapon.” She glanced over at Paige. “But our dear, sweet Paige Riley turned into Annie Oakley.”

  The guys laughed along with CJ, but then CJ surprised her by reaching across the table and squeezing her hand.

  “I’m just kidding. I know Ester Hogan had her bony fingers wrapped around your neck.”

  Paige nodded. “Figuratively, at least.”

  She could still remember the vise-like grip around her throat, shutting off her air, even though Ester Hogan was a good twenty feet away. She tried not to picture Fiona as she lay in a pool of her own blood…of her own making. She shook those thoughts away, meeting CJ’s gaze. CJ squeezed her hand once more before releasing her. The guys were unusually quiet, and Paige looked at them now, both of them staring at her hand. The one CJ had just been holding.

  “So, what about this haunted house? You get a key?”

  “Yeah, we got a damn key,” Ice said. “I don’t know why you’re insisting we go in there. The sheriff’s department has already checked it out.”

  “This same sheriff’s department that didn’t even bother going to Thompson’s Plants?” CJ asked with an arch of one eyebrow.

  Ice let out a sigh. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Did you two learn anything today?” Billy asked.

  “Got some background on Edith Krause. Howley is running it,” CJ said.

  “She and her husband left here shortly after the last boy went missing,” Paige explained. “She returned last year. Alone.”

  “Were they questioned in the original investigation?”

  “I would assume no more or no less than the other families in the trailer park,” CJ said. “And like we’ve said all day, we need to go back and read the file thoroughly. I just skimmed through it, as I guess we all did.”

  Ice didn’t answer, his gaze locked on a large tray of food heading their way.

  “Oh, man. Look at that steak,” he said.

  Paige skipped over the steaks, instead feeling her mouth water as she stared at the pile of large grilled shrimp calling her name. Damn.

  Chapter Eleven

  CJ tossed the key card on the small desk beside the door, then found Paige’s hand and pulled her close. “I’ve wanted to do this all day,” she murmured as she leaned closer for a kiss. Paige slid her hands up CJ’s chest, lightly brushing her nipples before slipping them around her neck.

  Their kiss was slow and unhurried, lips moving with familiarity against one another. She moaned quietly when she felt the tip of Paige’s tongue trace her lower lip. But Paige took it no further, even though CJ recognized the subtle change in her breathing.

  “I brought wine,” Paige reminded her.

  “We could have it later,” she suggested.

  Paige met her gaze, a smile playing on her lips. “We could, I suppose.” She moved closer again, this time letting her hand linger.

  CJ felt her nipple harden as Paige’s fingers traced it. Her own breathing shifted.

  “Can you be quiet?” Paige whispered before kissing her.

  CJ smiled against her lips. “Shouldn’t we be worried about you?” Her hips jerked as Paige’s hand found its way between her legs.

  “Take your clothes off,” Paige said as she pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”

  Paige headed to the bathroom and CJ quickly ripped her shirt off and tossed it aside, along with her bra. She knew where Paige was going. She knew what she’d bring back. She nearly trembled at the thought. She turned the light off, leaving on the lone lamp in the room. Her shoes, she kicked off, letting them land where they may. Her jeans, socks and panties followed, leaving her naked. She turned the sheets back on the bed, trying not to think about Ice and Billy in the next room, their beds up against the same wall.

  Paige came out of the bathroom wearing a robe. CJ knew she was naked beneath it. She found it sexy as hell when Paige did that, but her eyes were drawn to what Paige held in her hand.

  The strap-on dildo—a gag gift from Ice and Billy when they’d been in Hoganville—wasn’t something they used often. But when they did…God, it was incredible being inside Paige, making love to her that way.

  She stood there as Paige’s eyes roved over her. She felt her nipples harden in response. Paige slowly untied her robe, letting it hang open.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” CJ whispered.

  Paige had a lazy smile on her face. “Can you be quiet?” she asked again.

  CJ walked closer, taking the dildo from her. “I’ll be as quiet as you are.” She pushed the robe off of Paige’s shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. No matter how many times she’d seen Paige naked, she was still stunned by her beauty. Sometimes,
she was still stunned that they were lovers.

  “Put it on,” Paige commanded quietly.

  * * *

  Paige lay still, watching…waiting. CJ had yet to touch her, but her pulse was already racing. She let her gaze travel down CJ’s body, and her lips parted, short, quick breaths matching the pace of her pulse.

  “Roll over.”

  Paige swallowed, then did as CJ asked. She felt CJ move behind her, and she closed her eyes as CJ’s hands explored the back of her thighs.

  “Up on your knees,” CJ whispered.

  Paige let out a tiny moan when CJ’s hands drew her up. She trembled as CJ moved the hair from her neck and soft, warm lips nibbled her skin. Trying to remain quiet, she bit down on her lip when CJ’s hands reached around her, her fingers squeezing her nipples with just enough pressure to take her arousal to another level. She pressed back against CJ, feeling the dildo graze her clit.

  “God…CJ, don’t tease me,” she pleaded. She could feel the slickness of her arousal coat her thighs.

  CJ’s mouth moved to her ear, her tongue snaking inside. “You have to be quiet,” CJ reminded her.

  “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Paige murmured, doubtful she would be able to control herself.

  “Try.”

  It took all of her willpower not to cry out in pleasure when CJ entered her from behind. CJ’s hands left her breasts and grabbed her hips, pulling her back into her, the dildo sliding easily through her wetness, filling her. CJ pulled out slowly, then back in, this time a little deeper, a little harder. Paige concentrated on CJ’s rhythm, feeling CJ’s hips slap against her backside with each stroke, moving faster and harder. But quiet, they were. The only sounds were that of their near panting for breath and the skin-on-skin contact as CJ slammed into her from behind.

  It was so good, so thrilling, she wanted it to go on forever. But CJ reached around her, two fingers finding her clit, rubbing against it as she continued to move inside her—in and out—long strokes filling her. It was all too much and Paige let her orgasm claim her, let it wash over her as she gave herself to CJ. The intensity of it seemed to magnify as she struggled to remain silent, keeping her sounds of pleasure inside. She squeezed her eyes shut, swearing she saw fireworks as CJ’s fingers squeezed hard around her clit.