by Jenna Rae
“She’s—”
“Yes, her sister was murdered, and that’s terrible, but it has nothing to do with the fact you get this puppy-dog face when I mention her.” Andi eyed her speculatively. “You haven’t looked like that since you first met Tori.”
She shrugged. “I’m not ready to even think about getting back out there. And certainly not with Tami Sheraton’s big sister.”
Andi made a face. “When you say it like that—”
“While we’re talking about getting out there again, I’m sorry to be so rough about it, but—”
“No.” Andi sat back and crossed her arms. She looked shrunken and drawn all of a sudden. “I absolutely will not talk about it.”
“Lauren wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life.”
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
“You still have her shampoo in the shower. You still bake her carrot muffins. You still drink her chicory coffee, even though it was never your favorite. You haven’t cleaned out her closet. You haven’t taken her name off the deed to the house or the mortgage or this place. Andi, it’s been almost three years. Let me help you.”
She leaned forward. “Why, Bren? What exactly is the purpose of taking away what little I have left of her? She was my wife. She was my whole world, and she was stolen from me. Seeing her stuff makes me feel better. It makes it possible for me to get through the day. What’s wrong with that?”
Brenda shook her head. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just worried you put a strong face on because you want to be here for everybody else, but you didn’t really get a chance to deal with her death at all.”
“Why should I?” Andi shrugged. “What’s the point of sitting around feeling sorry for myself?”
“You know that’s not what I’m saying. Are you okay? Whatever you need, I’m here.”
“I know, thanks, but I’m okay. Focusing on this place is the only thing keeps me upright.”
“Are you going to grief group?”
“I am.” Andi bit her lip. Brenda thought she might say something more, but then a skinny young kid of indeterminate gender skidded to a stop at the small corner table they occupied. Bright blue hair covered most of the teen’s face.
“Kris, slow down!” Andi shook her head.
“Sorry, boss, I’m totally late. My roommate—”
“No excuses, kiddo. Just go wash up and put that hair back before you start. And Kris?”
“Yeah?”
“Breathe, huh?”
She nodded and fled to the back of the store. Andi watched the departure and smiled as she shook her head.
“Another one of your foundlings?”
“All they need is a little help. These kids are on their own, no safety net at all.”
“Except for you.” Brenda looked around at the three young employees busily helping customers. One had spent months in jail after aging out of the foster system and before coming under Andi’s protection. The other two had been homeless before Andi’s intervention. The fourth, just coming out from the back room, still tying on a black apron, was new to her.
Andi smiled. “I think I need these kids as much as they need me. But you’ve changed the subject very nicely, and I’d like to get back to it.”
She looked at her watch and slid out of her chair. “Oops! Look at the time, I’ve gotta go!” She hugged her best friend. “Thanks for everything.”
“Coward!”
She strode out of the coffee shop with Andi’s rich laughter surrounding her like a shield. If losing Tori had taught her anything, it was that she needed to give more to the important people in her life. She’d let Tori slip away without realizing she was doing so. She’d let Peterson literally disappear.
She didn’t want Andi to slip away too. The last three years had eaten away at her friend in ways she didn’t know how to quantify. Andi was still warm and energetic and kind, but there seemed to be a wall up around her innermost thoughts and feelings, and she seemed less than eager to let that wall down for a single moment, even to Brenda.
“I have to do a better job,” she muttered. “I have to be a better friend.”
In what had become habit in the last few days, she dialed Dan Miller’s number. When he actually answered, she was caught off guard.
“I’m so sorry, Captain Borelli. I had some trouble with my phone, but I got a new one this evening. I gotta make sure I’m using the best technology so I can be the best in the business.”
She wondered what time it was in India and if Miller was still there. “I need to ask you a few questions.” She waited for him to make some vague murmur of agreement. “Staci Smith—”
“Captain, I’d like to jump in there, if that’s okay. I dated Staci, if you can call it that, for about five minutes four years ago. I—”
“Is Jessica your daughter?”
“What? Is that her child? No. God, no. I barely know that woman. As you can imagine, I never have a hard time finding a date. Women are drawn to power, and I have a lot of power. I knew Mark Donnelly, of course. I make a point of trying to meet all of the officers in your department. But I’d only met him a half dozen times and didn’t know him well.”
“You have a finger in every pie in town.”
“It’s not easy juggling it all, I’ll tell you that, and no one appreciates it.” He sighed heavily. “I keep people safe. What I do is as much a public service as what you do.”
“You seem a little defensive, Mr. Miller.”
He laughed. “I guess I am. I love my company. I think we’re good for this town and doing great work. I believe in what we’re doing. I want other people to like it too. What else can I answer for you?”
“I’ve seen a few of your guards around town. Pretty macho fellas. A little jackbooted, maybe.”
“I know. I know. I’m working on that. I’m training them. Once I get this next contract, I’ll raise their pay. It’ll be amazing, believe me. I know how to make this company do great work. A lot of people tell me they know I’m the man who can do it.”
“Sounds admirable.” She wondered how long he’d been telling himself that story. “Do you know Teresa Fortune?”
The four seconds of silence at the other end sounded far away, as if the distance were a third participant in their conversation. “I’ve never heard of her. Who is she?”
“How about Mason Harding?”
The relief in his voice when he sounded the affirmative was a striking contrast to his tension at her previous question. She smiled as he told some vague story about computers and geniuses. She’d figure out how he knew Fortune as soon as possible.
“I know you like to recruit from the department. Do you know John Vallejo?”
“Oh, yes, your counterpart who is not your equal. Of course.”
“Commander Banks?”
“Of course. I know all the commanders, Chief Walton, and most of the senior members of the department. My cousin Sean is under your command, says you’re a good boss. I’m a partner with the department, and I provide an essential service to this city. My people do amazing work.”
“Why didn’t you join the department when you moved back to Briarwood?”
“Listen, Captain Borelli, I’m thirteen hours ahead of you. If you’re fishing, could we do this by email? I’m a good citizen, trust me. I support law enforcement, and I want to cooperate. I have cooperated, but—”
“Since this is a bad time for you, why don’t you call me back in twelve hours? That will be daytime for you, right?”
“Well, I don’t think you realize just how important a man I am, Captain. I’m pretty booked. I have—”
“Say, sometime in the next twelve to eighteen hours? That’s a pretty big window and should make it feasible for you to continue to cooperate with me. I look forward to your call. Thanks for your help, Mr. Miller.”
She hung up and shook off the tension engendered by the call. The more she talked to Dan Miller, the less she liked him, but she wasn’
t sure that made him anything but annoyingly cagey and manipulative.
Her phone rang just as she reached her car, and she veered away from the parking lot and toward the beach, trudging toward the shoreline until the sand was damp enough to be firm.
“Damn it, Brenda!”
“Good morning, Tori. No, I am not trying to be a pain in your ass. It’s just a side benefit of being myself.”
Tori’s grudging laughter warmed her.
“We laughed so much at the beginning.”
“Yeah, we did, didn’t we? Then we got very serious about everything.” Tori sighed. “I miss the fun we used to have.”
“I wish I’d made you laugh more as we went along,” she said without thinking. “Made more of an effort to show you I loved you. I wish I’d told you how much it meant to me that you were my lover and my friend.”
“Oh, Brenda.”
“I’m sorry I let you down. You were so loving, and I took you for granted. I should have proposed. I should have given you the ring I bought three years ago.”
“You bought a ring? You wanted to get married? Three years ago?”
“Yes.”
Tori clucked her tongue. “Then Lauren got sick.”
She swallowed regret. “It seemed wrong, proposing to you when Lauren and Andi were going through so much, like dancing on Lauren’s grave before she was even in it. Then time went by, and I chickened out. I thought you were leaving me behind. I sabotaged what we had by being an ass. When you cheated, I got to play victim without really looking at my own behavior. I’m sorry, Tori. I really am. You there?”
“Yeah.” Tori sighed. “I would have given anything to hear you say those things, not so long ago. I still—but we’re past that, aren’t we?”
She pressed her lips together to stop herself from denying it. “I think we are. Even though I feel like I’ve learned so much.”
“You weren’t all bad.”
“Neither were you.”
“Well.” Tori exhaled loudly. “I don’t even remember what I was going to yell at you about. You totally knocked me for a loop.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
She held her breath until Tori coughed a laugh and answered. “Yeah. In a good way. I keep thinking—never mind.”
“What?”
“I keep thinking we had it all. That what we had was the best I’ll ever have. And I’ll always end up comparing anyone else I meet to you, and they’ll always fall short.”
She choked up, surprised by sudden tears. “I think the same thing about you,” she whispered. “Who the hell can measure up to you?”
“Could you ever let it go, Bren? And just start over?”
“I don’t know. Could you?”
Tori offered a shaky laugh. “I still love you.”
“And I still love you.”
“Where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know.” She grunted. “It’s hard to focus on this with Sheraton’s death and the disappearances, especially Peterson’s.”
Tori cleared her throat. “Let’s get this business resolved, and then we’ll figure out the personal stuff, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. That’s a good idea.”
“Are you at the beach? I hear waves and wind.”
“Yeah. By Andi’s.”
“How is she?”
“Meh. Still kind of on hold, you know what I mean?”
“I do. Lauren’s death…I don’t think I’m over it yet, so I can’t imagine how she must feel. It was just so wrong, so unfair.” There was a long silence. “So, what’s the plan as of now?”
“I don’t know.” She huffed out air. “Any ideas?”
“Kidnapping people is a giant pain in the ass. You and I both know it’s hard to kidnap and keep one person, much less three people.”
“That’s what has me so worried. Frankly, it’d be easier to kill all three of them than to keep them alive somewhere. And if someone is keeping the three of them somewhere, that takes manpower. Who has that kind of manpower? Who has a crew of people who can be trusted with that sort of secret? There are only so many options, Tori.”
“Is there any possibility they haven’t been taken? That they got spooked and took off?”
“Peterson? He’d rather eat his gun than let somebody scare him off. And he was worried about me. He wouldn’t abandon me. Maybe Staci Smith would abandon her little girl. That wasn’t the vibe I got, but I only met the woman once. Teresa Fortune, who knows? As far as I can tell, her most important relationship is with her dealer.”
“Hmm.”
“Her situation may have nothing to do with Donnelly. She could owe her dealer money or have a lousy boyfriend. She had bruises. Someone was beating on her. She’s not enthused about police, and my showing up could have spooked her or whoever’s putting hands on her. Peterson’s place didn’t look ransacked, but both Smith’s and Fortune’s apartments did. Of course, they both live in crap apartments. Maybe each of them took off and their places got broken into by neighbors. They both had Watchdogs stickers, everybody does. Dan Miller’s still stonewalling me, which makes me wonder what he’s hiding, and whether it has anything to do with this or not.”
“Why would he do that? Oh, yeah, because you despise him and he knows it. Listen, I’ll talk to Dan.”
“Hmm.”
“So, here’s the deal. I read the report on Donnelly. It’s pretty lightweight, missing a lot of details. I’m not sure it’s actually indicative of something other than suicide, but I can tell you I’d never have signed off on it from one of my officers. And it’s not up to Yolo’s usual standards, not by a long shot.”
She made a vaguely inviting sound, knowing this was all a warm-up to what Tori wanted to say.
“Let’s just pretend for a second that I think Donnelly might not have killed himself.”
Again she only murmured, knowing Tori would drive the conversation for now if given free rein.
“Donnelly just bought the stripper an engagement ring. Used a credit card that gets miles. Already paid it off, four big payments. It’s worth more than my car. Princess cut, a full carat, very close to flawless. He made reservations at Dave’s. He called his old parish priest to ask about pre-wedding counseling and available dates next summer. He talked to a lawyer about adopting her daughter. He also looked at a house not far from ours—yours—and toured the elementary school, the one on Kenneth.”
“The good one,” she murmured. She remembered Tori’s enthusiasm for the school with good test scores. If they’d adopted like Tori wanted, they might have a child there now. Would they have stayed together for a child?
Tori huffed. “Listen, you and I both know somebody can be a good guy in one part of his life and a monster in another. We’ve seen it plenty of times.”
“True.”
“But. It all makes him sound like such a choirboy, doesn’t it? I don’t know. I’m glad we have the video, so we know for sure Donnelly killed Sheraton.”
“He wouldn’t be the first person to justify bad actions by saying he was taking care of his family.”
“Yeah. I need to think.”
Tori hung up without a goodbye, and she suppressed a groan of frustration. She turned to face the morning surf and closed her eyes, though it meant leaving herself vulnerable out here in the open. She breathed the brined air and listened to the gentle music of the waves and the sharp calls of the birds swooping overhead. For her, in moments like this, Briarwood was still a sacred place, made newly profane by violence and corruption.
“I’ll fix this,” she vowed, opening her eyes to stare out onto the light-dappled reaches of the Pacific. “I will fix this.”
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Brenda’s ringing phone woke her, and she shook her head to clear it. How many times in the last twenty years had she been awakened by one phone or another?
“Andi? What’s up?”
“I waited until five, are you up?”
“Yeah,” she l
ied. “Are you okay?”
“Not so much. Can you come to the shop?”
“On my way. Should I bring anything in particular?”
“Booze. Booze would be good.”
She forced a shaky laugh and promised to rush. Seven minutes later she’d brushed her teeth, sucked down a microwaved cup of leftover coffee, and thrown on jeans and a blue sweater. She snagged the dusty bottle of whiskey she’d gotten several years back for when Andi and Lauren came over for dinner.
Whatever had happened to put Andi in such a state, it had to be bad. She tried not to speculate as she drove the still-cold Caliber through peaceful early-morning streets, past houses where people were just getting up, starting the coffee, taking their showers and waking up their kids. The only thing she’d ever seen knock Andi on her butt was Lauren’s death, and after three years, it was still probably the only thing that could make her falter.
Brenda parked in the nearly empty lot next to the boardwalk and jogged toward the only lit storefront. The café glowed like a beacon in the late-dawn gloom, and she found the door unlocked. With the whiskey in her left hand, she reached for her waistband, noticing only then that she’d strapped on her service weapon while dressing. It was a habit of so many years she hadn’t even noticed she still wore it everywhere she went.
What did it mean when she found an unlocked door at her best friend’s restaurant—where Andi was awaiting her arrival and had probably just unlocked the door for her? Her first response was to reach for her weapon. Putting the question aside for later perusal, she eased open the door and crouched low. The inside of the café looked empty and spotless, a blank canvas for the customers to paint with conversation and movement and laughter.
She edged around behind the counter and crept toward the door to the large space that served as an office, breakroom and storage area. There she found Andi hunched over in the worn office chair Lauren had given her years back. Andi’s normally animated face was drawn and streaked with tears. She flicked her dampened gaze toward Brenda and shook her head.
Without a word, Brenda put away her weapon and set down the bottle of whiskey. She pulled Andi into a tight hug and held her. At first, she resisted, but then she relaxed into Brenda’s embrace and wept. Her body shook as she sobbed, mumbling incoherently.