“Your car is being held at a safe location until such time as you’re able to drive it again,” Abel replied carefully, unwilling to drop even the tiniest detail that would give Patience a clue as to her convertible’s current resting place. He had it on good authority that his trusty mechanic, Wrath, had found a suitable hiding spot, but he didn’t want to take any chances. If she knew that he’d enlisted Wrath’s help in hiding her ride, she’d harass the poor bastard within an inch of his life whether he was a badass motorcycle club president or not.
Patience’s cheeks flooded with color as she looked down at her swollen stomach, and she shifted guiltily from side to side, picking at the seam of her simple silk sheathe dress. Honestly, her maternity dress had zero personality, but the bright orange color saved it from being entirely boring. “Hey, the doctor says that my weight is all babies, not fat,” she felt compelled to yell at the top of her lungs. “By all the charts, I’m well within the acceptable weight gain limits, Old Woman!”
“Yeah, and I’m still waitin’ for you to show me these so-called charts,” Orla called back smartly.
Abel shot Patience’s elderly aunt a look of disbelief over his shoulder. “Are you goin’ senile, Miss Orla? You know better than to goad a pregnant woman!”
“Yes, especially one that wants your head for hidin’ her car,” Aunt Orla pointed out gleefully as she waved her arthritic fingers at Abel.
Abel winced at that and reluctantly turned to face Patience again. “Now, babe, let’s just…”
“I. Want. My. Car,” Patience growled, moving a step closer with each word until she loomed just in front of Abel. “Take these and tell me where she is,” she demanded, shaking the keys to the new Hummer beneath his nose.
“I don’t have any idea where your car is, darlin’. I didn’t move it,” Abel replied truthfully. He had not a fuckin’ clue where Wrath and his crew dropped that deathtrap she’d been drivin’ around in, nor did he care. As long as the damn thing stayed gone, he was gonna be a happy man.
“You’re lying,” Patience declared flatly, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Find a Bible and I’ll swear on it,” Abel replied, upping the ante as he lifted his right hand and swore, “I, Abel Turner, truly have no ever-loving clue where your car is. Because I am a kind, caring and loving partner to you, I have, however, provided you an alternate means of transportation until your vehicle can be… found,” he explained reasonably, steadfastly ignoring the snickers and chuckles surrounding them.
Glancing over Abel’s shoulder, Patience’s eyes brightened as her current neighbor and, incidentally, the man that had somehow become one of her and her sisters’ very best friends entered the restaurant. “Diego! Abel’s hidden my car,” Patience tattled. “Can you call some of your former goons and intimidate its location out of him? Pretty please?” she requested sweetly, smiling widely at the man whom she thought would rush to her aide as she rubbing a hand over where one of her children was trying to kick its way out of her belly.
As if Abel hadn’t already thought of that play! What was he? An amateur? Crossing his arms over his chest, Abel tilted his head and offered Diego a knowing look. He almost felt sorry for the former drug lord that had chosen to settle in their fair town.
Almost. But not quite.
Mostly because most days Patience seemed to like Diego Fuentes a hell of a lot better than the man that slept in her too-small bed most every night.
“I doubt your hombre will be so easily swayed. Especially where the safety of you and your bambinos are concerned, mi querida. El es el padre de sus hijos, preciosa.”
Patience’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “I know he’s the father of my kids. You don’t have to remind me,” she grumbled. Offering the tall, scarred Spanish man a disappointed look, she pouted. “Of all men, I really thought you’d take my side.”
“I might have,” Diego allowed with a faint smile. “But that would have been before I watched you from my window as you rolled out of your car onto your knees and got stuck there. Truly, mi amiga, what would you have done if I hadn’t seen you yesterday? Stayed on the ground until you gave birth?”
Abel watched Patience glare at Diego and tried to control his twitching lips. If looks could kill, Diego would be toes up in the nearest cemetery. “I would have figured out a way to get back on my feet with or without your help, you traitor,” he heard his woman growl to her now former friend. That was okay with him. The enemy of his enemy was his friend and all that crap.
“I think you have forgotten the position you were in when I got to you,” Diego chuckled as he stared at Patience, unmoved by the furious eyes she was giving him.
“Whatever. I still can’t believe you’re taking his side. He doesn’t even like you much,” Patience muttered as she turned on her heel and flounced back to the window.
“Ha! That’s where you’re wrong. Diego and I have decided to put our difference aside and concentrate on you and the babies’ well-being,” Abel announced, nodding at Diego as he moved toward the mother of his children.
“Meaning, you’ve somehow convinced him to aide you in stealing my car,” Patience retorted, frowning at Abel before looking out the window again. “It’s so big and boring,” she complained, staring at the basic black Hummer parked beside Honor’s no-nonsense sedan. “You had to get black? Weren’t there any actual colors available?” she asked, shooting Abel an unhappy look over her shoulder.
“I’ll have it painted any color of the rainbow you want if you’ll agree to drive it,” Abel bargained, more than willing to fork over the money for a paint job if it meant Patience and his babies would be riding around in the virtually impenetrable tank he’d selected.
Ignoring his generous offer, she looked around Abel to focus her attention on Zeke. “Is there any chance at all that you’d arrest him for grand theft auto?” she questioned hopefully.
Zeke kept his eyes on his plate as he shook his head. “No evidence of a crime. Without proof that Abel actually took your car, there’s nothing that I can charge him on. Sorry, honey, I can’t help you on this one,” he stated, keeping his words to a minimum. It was safer that way when he had not only Patience, but Honor watching him, too.
“Somehow, you seem less than apologetic, Sheriff,” Honor remarked dryly, pursing her lips as she watched Zeke resume eating his meal.
“Just following the letter of the law, Miss McKinnon,” Zeke returned with a straight face though his eyes glittered with amusement.
Both Patience and Honor snorted at that. Looking at her sister, Patience announced, “I need some fresh air. Feel like a walk, sis?”
Honor nodded. “Can you handle the restaurant for a few minutes, Aunt Orla?”
Orla nodded as she walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Been taking care of this diner for years. I think I can handle a few minutes on my own,” she declared with a good-natured wink at her nieces.
Abel watched as Honor linked her arm through Patience’s and guided her toward the door. Relieved to still be alive with all his limbs intact, he waited until the glass door had swung shut behind the women before turning toward his audience. “I just want to thank you all so much for your help. It was truly overwhelming to receive such love and support from my family and friends!” he proclaimed sarcastically, looking from one unapologetic face to the next as he stomped toward his own now-cold plate of food. “If you guys had helped just a little, I might have gotten a bite or two of my meal before it got stone cold,” he continued, sitting down on his bar stool.
“Oh, boo hoo,” Zeke growled, glaring down at his own half-eaten salad. “At least that’s a real meal on your plate. Honor served me rabbit food for lunch. A-fuckin’-gain! I swear to God, I have no idea why she insists I follow this damned heart healthy diet when she keeps breakin’ my fuckin’ heart with that indifferent mask she keeps wearin’ whenever I’m around!”
“Yeah, cry me a river,” Cain grumbled, barely looking his brother’s way. �
�Not even the rabbits will touch this crap Faith has me eating! What the fuck is in tofu anyway? Dog shit?” he asked, looking up at Aunt Orla.
Orla shrugged. “Beats me, son, but Faith promised ugly retribution if I tried to feed you anything else.”
Glancing at his brother, Abel frowned. “Why the hell does she have you eatin’ that crap? You piss her off or something?”
“No, you idiot! Faith’s on some kind of organic diet kick or some shit. She’s been doin’ all our grocery shopping at that Whole Foods store over in Knoxville. She says it’s better for us and the baby. See, my woman wants me to live a long, healthy life with her. So, this is the crap I gotta eat to make that happen,” Cain explained grimly, staring sadly down at his food.
Abel leaned forward to smell the tofu on Cain’s plate. “Fuck that. I hope Patience keeps right on barely tolerating me if that’s the shit I gotta stomach.”
“Amen,” Zeke agreed with Abel aloud, looking over at Cain’s food and shuddering. “Maybe I’ll just be grateful that Honor’s feeding me salad.”
“Maybe you should just be grateful Honor’s feeding you at all,” Aunt Orla smirked, propping her hands on her ample hips. “After the month you were banned from the café, I’d think you eat that salad with a smile.”
Zeke sighed. “True,” he admitted, toying with a leaf of lettuce. “That niece of yours holds a mean grudge, Miss Orla.”
“She had to deal with your former lover wavin’ it in your face that you’d been in her bed, Lawman. Doesn’t take a genius to know that’s gonna smart with a sweet gal like my Honor,” Orla pointed out sternly. “Then, if that’s not enough, that girl goes and gets her body dumped in our parking lot! Hmphhh! You’re lucky she’s not poisoned your coffee.”
Offering Abel a sidelong glance, Zeke asked, “Does Patience hold Angie over your head on a regular basis?”
Abel shook his head quickly. “Angie’s name has been banned in Patience’s presence. The last time I fucked up and mentioned her, my woman threatened to pull my tongue out through my asshole if I so much as thought of Angela Hastings anywhere near her.”
“That’s my girl!” Aunt Orla proclaimed, looking pleased as punch. Looking between Zeke and Abel, she asked, “Between you, me and the fencepost, do you boys have anything new to share ‘bout that hussy’s death?”
“Miss Orla, you know good and well that neither of us can comment on an ongoing investigation,” Zeke replied, wondering if the elderly woman would ever quit being so endearingly nosy.
“Fine,” Orla huffed, reaching for an empty coffee cup and sliding it in front of Diego when he took the stool on the other side of Cain. “I’ll just pump our newest boarder for information when I give him breakfast in the morning. I know Jake’s firm is workin’ the case, too.”
“And risk Jake firing me before I even get started working for him,” Diego asked, smiling at Orla as she filled his mug with fresh coffee. “No, thank you. And how did you know that we’re looking into the Hastings murder?”
“I have my sources,” Orla replied shrewdly.
All the men exchanged a glance before they said in one voice, “Harmony.”
“I’m pretty sure Jake can’t fire his partner anyway,” Zeke grumbled into his own glass of tea. “I still can’t belief the Jake Stone I know let his archenemy buy into his security business as a full partner,” he continued, shaking his head in amazement. “How the hell did you convince that man that you’d make a good security expert?”
“Who would know better how a criminal thinks than a reformed criminal, Sheriff,” Diego returned, unperturbed by the doubt coloring the other man’s voice as he lifted his steaming mug to his lips and sipped. “And for the record, Jacob and I have made our peace with the past. We’re starting fresh. We’ve buried the hatchet, as you Americans say, yes? I hope that you and I can do the same.”
Abel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He understood where Zeke was coming from with his issues regarding Diego Fuentes, and it had nothing to do with his colorful past as a drug lord. No, like him, Zeke had a problem with the closeness that had developed between the scarred man and Honor. For some reason, all the McKinnon women seemed to trust the mysterious Fuentes. Abel still had his reservations, but after the conversation that he’d had with Diego yesterday regarding Patience’s welfare, even he could admit that the guy didn’t seem half bad. “I think I speak for all of us, Diego, when I say that what we’re having some difficulty believing is how you avoided getting that hatchet buried in your back. However, as long as you put the McKinnon women’s best interests first and foremost, none of us will have a problem with you.”
Cain made a sound of agreement and Abel was relieved to see Zeke slowly nod. “See, we’re all friends here,” he declared with a grin.
“Don’t get carried away,” Zeke growled as he watched Orla walk to the other end of the counter to handle another diner’s bill. “While Orla’s occupied down there, I wanted to let y’all know that the state contacted me this morning. Next month, they want to move forward with their case against your father, Diego.”
Diego inhaled deeply as he nodded. “I’d heard. Ms. Miller called me this morning. I shared this with Jake this morning, and he was going to talk to you this afternoon, but I don’t think I should wait. Sheriff, you and Abel need to be on your guard where my father is concerned. He’ll do anything he can to postpone this from going to trial. I know you’re aware of my suspicions regarding Esteban and Miss Hastings’ murder…”
“Diego,” Abel interrupted, “We’ve been over this. Both Zeke and I have tried to find a connection between her death and your dad. There just isn’t any evidence to support your theory.”
“And I’ve told you, Abel, my father is excellent at covering his tracks. Why do you think he’s never been convicted of a crime in his sixty-seven years? Have you received any more threatening letters regarding either case?”
Abel shook his head slowly. In the month after Angie’s murder, he’d received three separate notes warning him away from both the Fuentes cartel case and Angela’s murder, but then as suddenly as the notes had started to arrive, they’d stopped. “No. Not for about two months.”
Looking from Abel to the Sheriff, Diego’s face tightened. “That was my father’s doing. He was warning you off. I’ve seen him use that kind of intimidation over and over again. You all need to be aware of the danger.”
Abel nodded slowly. “I see your point, Diego,” he acknowledged calmly. “But I’m not gonna walk away from doing my job.”
“Neither am I,” the Sheriff agreed with a hard look at Fuentes. “I believe everything you’re saying regarding your father, Diego, but that doesn’t change the fact that I need some proof before I can lean on Esteban Fuentes. You know your dad. He’s got the best lawyers money can buy.”
“Just be careful. Both of you. My padre cares very little for the rules and he’ll use whatever means necessary to avoid prison. Even if that means killing every single person connected to his case. Fear and intimidation… those are his specialties,” Diego warned, his voice growing more accented as he looked between the two men. “I’ve already put security on Ms. Miller…”
“And how did Vivian take that?” Abel asked with a grin, remembering Diego’s cool and collected attorney fondly.
“As well as you’d expect,” Diego growled, his jaw clenching.
“That well, huh?” Abel chuckled, just imagining the look on Viv’s face when Diego informed her that she needed a bodyguard in order to work for him. Vivian Miller was NOT the type of woman that would have thanked him for his concern. Hell, no. It was more likely that Viv had cursed him a blue streak.
“She doubled her fee for the inconvenience she alleges that I’ve caused her,” Diego replied sharply. “As if I’ve intentionally put her in harm’s way! The woman is infuriating. She actually wanted to select her own security detail. She sent his resume to me. His name was Armando Savage. What self-respecting bodyguard calls himself Armando? He did
n’t even have a background in security!”
“I take it that you chose someone more suitable,” Abel ventured, raising an eyebrow.
“I did, but of course, I’ve earned her fury in making that decision. She might look like an unassuming female, but looks, as they say, are deceiving.”
“You’re preachin’ to the choir here, Diego,” Abel announced, gesturing to Cain and Zeke. “If anybody knows about that, it’s us,” Abel commiserated. Stubborn women like Patience and Vivian were a handful and a half. Of course, life with them would never be boring.
He just hoped they all lived long enough to enjoy the show.
Chapter Eighteen
Patience glumly kicked a rock out of her path as she walked down the street with her pudgy hands resting on the growing beach ball that had taken up residence under her clothes the last month or so. Or, she tried walking – though really it was more of an awkward shuffle these days. She tried very hard not to be envious of the easy, sedate pace her sister was able to keep at her side. Honor moved effortlessly, dang it, while she huffed and puffed her way up the slight incline in front of Paradise’s only ice cream parlor, Licks. Oooohhhhh, ice cream, she thought longingly, shooting the parlor’s door a look of unadulterated desire.
“Maybe on the way home,” Honor murmured, evidently reading her mind as she tugged at Patience’s arm and urged her past the store.
Grumbling under her breath, Patience even attempted to smile politely when two little boys ran past her, one chasing after another. Unfortunately, that sweet smile became more a sneer when one of the little demons stepped on her swollen foot (because yeah, pregnancy was the gift that kept on giving for nine frickin’ months) and ran away from her without as much as a kiss-my-butt-lady.
It was at that moment that she silently wondered if this was what she had to look forward to in the future – entire days where Abel Turner domineered himself into getting his own way while she got assaulted by midgets in the park. To add insult to injury, all this happening while she felt as though the duo of alien life forms inside her womb were conspiring to starve her of all forms of nutrition while she stood there, defenseless, with swollen feet and hands?
Ready, Willing and Abel (Passion in Paradise: The Men of the McKinnon Sisters Book 3) Page 28