“What?” he slurred. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale and gaunt. He smelled like I felt. I glanced behind him at the disaster that had become his apartment. I pushed past him and went inside.
“Go away.”
I ignored him, bending down and picking dirty clothes and garbage off the floor. He slapped them from my hands.
“I don’t want you here!” he shouted into my face, his breath a vapor going up my nose. “Leave!”
I backed away, but didn’t go, despite my fear. I gathered up a stack of dishes with molding food on them and put them in the sink.
Nico’s arms were crossed over his chest but he was swaying slightly on his feet. He swore at me as I continued to tidy up, throwing his clothes in a hamper and getting rid of empty pizza boxes and take-out containers. I filled up a huge black garbage bag with empty beer bottles.
“You can’t do this,” I said.
“Can’t what? Grieve?”
“You can grieve,” I said, not looking at him, “but you can’t live like this. She wouldn’t want you to.”
I didn’t know if his legs gave out or he’d just given up on life, but suddenly Nico was on the floor curled into the fetal position. I put aside the garbage bag and knelt down beside him.
“Don’t talk about her,” he said, but there was no anger in the words, just despair. “You don’t know…”
“You’ll kill yourself this way,” I said. “Is that what you want?”
He put his hands over his ears like he didn’t want to listen.
I removed his hands and held them in my own. “She’s watching you right now. And she’s crying.”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“She should be up there, rejoicing. There’s no more pain, no more suffering for her, only joy. But instead, she’s watching you destroy yourself and I bet you anything she’s wishing she could be here to help.”
“But she’s not,” he whispered.
“No, she’s not.” I didn’t know if Bronwyn’s tough love had ever worked on Nico, or if she had even tried it. But I had to help somehow. “You have to do it on your own now.”
It took him a long time to reply. “I can’t.”
“You have to.” I gave his hands a tug and he sat up. “You can still be sad. You can cry. You can be angry and you can miss her until it feels like you might break.” I let go of his hands and waved them at the bag full of bottles. “But you can’t do this to yourself. She wouldn’t want this.”
He stared blankly and didn’t respond. After a few minutes, I got to my feet and finished tidying the apartment. When I left, with two full garbage bags in my hands, he still hadn’t moved.
I headed down the stairs, my mind still on Nico. It wasn’t enough. He would keep drinking himself into a stupor, or worse. Bronwyn had worried that he would die and no one would know. It seemed even more likely now. But I couldn’t stay, couldn’t take care of him like Bronwyn had. He needed to figure this out on his own.
Down in the gym, I waited until I caught Jay’s eye. He looked about as pleased to see me as Nico had been. That didn’t stop him from coming over, his scowl smoothing as he got closer.
I tugged on the garbage bags. “Is there somewhere I can throw these?”
He motioned his head to a back door. I headed for it but he beat me there, holding the door open. He followed me out, then grabbed the garbage bags from my hands and tossed them into a dumpster.
“Thanks.”
He nodded. His mouth seemed to be glued shut.
A faint smell of rotting vegetables wafted from the dumpster so I went for the door. Jay held it open for me again.
“Are you okay?” he asked when I was right beside him.
I glanced at him and my body started to tremble. “I’m going home.”
He rocked toward me, then back. “You won’t come back. Will you?”
Tears stung the corners of my eyes. I lowered my head. I had to get out of there before I broke down in front of him. “Check on Nico once in a while.”
“Maggie, I really am sorry.”
He wasn’t lying, I could hear the sincerity in his voice. I moved away from him before I did something stupid, like grab onto him, hold him. Feel someone else’s strength holding me up. Walking through the gym, I kept my head down, I couldn’t bear to look at anyone.
That was the last I talked to Jay Thornton that year.
Chapter 39
JAY
I didn’t say goodbye to Maggie. I followed her inside, watched her walk away. She was leaving Vegas and wouldn’t come back. I’d never see her again.
Look back at me, I silently begged her. She didn’t.
It was better if she didn’t come back. She was safer that way.
I visited Simon in the hospital. He’d had surgery to remove the bullet lodged in his side, barely missing his kidneys. He had to stay and recover, but he’d be fine.
“Do you have any leads on Fred Madsen?” he asked, wincing as he shifted in bed.
I shook my head. “I’ve been scouring the internet for any trace, but there’s nothing. We don’t have a picture of him to use facial recognition software. We don’t know his real name so we don’t know who we’re looking for.”
“I won’t let some punk get one over on me, and I’ve got other problems.”
His eyes flicked to the security guard stationed outside his door. I’d told Hopkins that Aguda’s gang had targeted Simon. He’d set a watch on him for his protection, although he was pressuring me more than ever to get evidence on Simon’s criminal activities. With Simon in the hospital, it would be easy to go through his things at home and at his office in Pearl of China for some hard evidence. But I hadn’t. Not yet. Simon was in the hospital, partly because of me. He didn’t have to come and warn me, or evacuate the gym. It didn’t feel right betraying him now. Although I knew, if I wanted my own life, I’d have to do it soon.
“I almost regret Aguda,” Simon said. “He had the resources for this kind of thing.”
My blood ran cold. Regret the murder, not the man—that’s how Simon should feel. Aguda was better in the ground.
“If Aguda’s boys didn’t want to kill me, I’d recruit them.” Simon tugged at the blankets over his legs. “I could have used you to get them on my side if it weren’t for this Fred Madsen mess. I need that fifty grand.”
I leaned forward in the chair. “You really want Aguda’s boys working for you?” They made Alonso’s rough streak look like playground games.
Simon lowered his voice. “I want everyone working for me.” His eyes glittered “You can only go so far as a cop, and even at the top the rewards are minimal. It’s time to branch out.”
“How?” I held my breath.
“I’ve made contacts over the years. People from all spectrums, criminal and legal, people who know I’m a man to be trusted and feared. It’s taken a long time, but I’m close. I was sloppy with Aguda, but I’ll get his boys on my side, and then I’ll be able to carve out a piece of this city for my own.”
My knuckles tingled. “You want to take Aguda’s place.”
Simon smiled. “That’s right, son. And you’ll be my right hand. They will bow to you as they bow to me.”
I should’ve seen this coming. But I couldn’t believe the man who’d been my father had wanted this. He was supposed to put men like Aguda behind bars, or keep them under control, not become them.
Simon leaned his head against the pillow. “It will take longer now, because of this, but it will happen. Until then, take care of the Fred Madsen problem. Because I’ll need you when it’s time.”
Chapter 40
MAGGIE
My parents were glad to have me back. My mom and I watched Christmas movies and delivered hampers to those in need. I went to church and listened to Dad’s sermon on the birth of Jesus.
I cried at church, I cried when a single mom broke down over the diapers we’d given her, and I cried watching The Grinch. Bronwyn would’ve laughed at my blubberi
ng. I cried when I thought that, too.
The day after Christmas, I was reading a book my dad gave me, a novelization of the life of Ruth, when Mom came into my room.
“We’re so happy to have you home.” She climbed into bed beside me, smoothing the comforter over her legs. I put the book down.
“It’s been quiet around here without you.” Mom put a bookmark in my book and closed it. She never did like it when the spines got cracked with spindly white lines. “I always thought your father talked a lot, but with you gone, I’ve realized he doesn’t talk nearly enough.” She let out a low laugh.
It was comfortable to be home, with my mom beside me and Dad out on church errands. I knew what to expect. The colors of my walls and the view outside my window were familiar. I’d missed it all when I was in Vegas.
Now I found myself missing the brick of Bronwyn’s apartment. The way her morning showers would always wake me. I missed dancing in my small space above Eastside boxing.
I missed Bronwyn. I missed my life.
“Are you—” Mom started. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “When are you going back?”
“I’m not sure.” I had nothing to go back to. Bronwyn was gone. I couldn’t afford her apartment, not for long anyway. I didn’t have a job, and I would never make it into Essence Dance Theater. If Ting ever found out about Fraze, he’d hurt me to get to him.
I thought of Bronwyn. How she’d called me out and told me to run back home. To give up because she thought I was that person. But was I still that person? Hadn’t I proved her wrong?
If I did it all over again, this time I’d be proving it to myself.
Chapter 41
JAY
Even though Aguda wasn’t a threat anymore, I had Hopkins meet me at Eastside Boxing. The glass window still hadn’t been replaced; plastic covered the gaping hole, amplifying the street noise and letting in cold air.
Hopkins didn’t bother taking a class this time. He strolled up to the front desk and said, “What have you got for me?”
I handed him a thick manila envelope. “Simon runs a lending business. I’ve made copies of all his contracts from the past ten years.” It hadn’t been too hard, smuggling the paperwork from Pearl of China, making copies at the local Kinko’s, and then putting it right back where it came from. Simon would never know.
Hopkins peeked inside. “So he’s a loan shark. That explains a lot.” He looked at me. “Past ten years. There’s more?”
“He’s been at it a long time.”
“This isn’t much.”
“What do you mean? He’s running an illegal business. That’s plenty.”
He gave me a withering look. “He’s a veteran officer and people like him. At most, he’ll get a slap on the wrist, that’s my bet.”
“Your problem, not mine.”
“I need more than this.”
“He killed Brian Morris.” Alonso’s actual name, though none of us had ever called him Brian.
Hopkins sucked in a breath. “You have proof?”
I folded my arms over my chest. “That’s your job.”
“Anything else?”
“Your hunch was right. He wants to take over Aguda’s empire.”
“Again, proof?”
“He told me. It’s not like he signed a confession.” I glanced at Bergin handling my class. “He can’t do anything right now. But when he gets out of the hospital, his priority is to win over Aguda’s gang. They’re leaderless. If they can get over the fact that he killed Aguda, he might be able to do it.”
I’d been thinking a lot about this lately. When Simon put his mind to something, he followed through, no matter the trouble or cost. This time, the cost would be me, he just didn’t know it yet.
Hopkins tucked the envelope into his jacket. “I’ll take this for now, see if I can do anything with it. And I’ll look into Morris. With this and his injury, we can slow him down at least. But I want to nail him before we have another Aguda on our hands, and illegal lending won’t do it.”
I followed him to the door. “He has connections on the force. People looking the other way, even helping him. If he gets the manpower and money he needs, then he’ll be untouchable.” Hopkins was right, he could bribe his way out of whatever conviction came about over the lending. But he wasn’t invincible—Aguda had proved that.
“With your help,” Hopkins said, pushing the door open, “I’m certain we’ll get him.”
I didn’t share his certainty. Hopkins didn’t know Simon like I did.
I spent a quiet Christmas with McCrary. We had pre-cooked turkey and mashed potatoes and a pie from the grocery store. I was preoccupied, and McCrary knew it, but he didn’t push me. There was nothing I could tell him. If things turned sour, I didn’t want Simon to think he had anything to do with it.
I visited Simon in the hospital a few days after Christmas. The ward was still decorated with cheap tinsel and paper snowmen, a smiling Santa was pasted on Simon’s door.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, setting a present on the bedside table. It was a tie—I always got Simon ties. I never knew what else to buy for him.
He cursed at me in Chinese. I didn’t bother sitting. If he was in a mood, I wouldn’t stay long.
“Have you found Fred?”
“No.” I retreated from the bed. “But it was Christmas and—”
“No more excuses.” Simon tugged at the neck of his pajamas. “I want it taken care of by the time I get out.”
“It’s not as easy as—”
He held up a hand and I snapped my mouth shut.
“Let me rephrase that. If it’s not taken care of by the time I get out of this cursed hospital, I will find something to motivate you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Margaret Hale, perhaps?”
I kept my face blank. “Why should she be motivation?”
He laughed. “Don’t think I haven’t seen your tongue hanging out around her.” My fists tightened. Simon noticed. “Exactly.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said.
I decided to take a trip to Hillstone. Maybe I could persuade Maggie to give up Fred Madsen. Although I couldn’t use Simon’s threats as motivation, not when the reason for them was me.
Hillstone was surreal. A place out of a movie, or out of my childhood dreams. I drove down Main Street, parking beside a fifties-style diner with an American flag hanging out front. The whole street was filled with quaint shops, the old brick buildings well maintained. Snow covered the streets, an old man who reminded me of McCrary was shoveling the front step of a post office. Christmas decorations hung from the street lights and most of the shops had window displays made for the season.
I hunched in my rental, completely out of place. Like a crack needle sticking out of a Norman Rockwell painting. I’d grown up in Vegas and never left. I didn’t know anything other than the modest suburb I’d called home until I was twelve, the dirty downtown streets after that, then Simon’s mansion outside the city. Where Vegas swarmed with vice and sin, this town was a postcard for down-home Americana.
I checked into a bed-and-breakfast nestled between a colonial and a rundown red barn. After taking a shower, I plugged Maggie’s address into my phone and headed over.
Maggie’s house was a two-story with a wraparound porch and shutters surrounding the windows. I parked down the road a bit so I wouldn’t look suspicious, but couldn’t make myself get out of the car. This was where Maggie grew up. I could picture her as a child, running around the lawn, rocking in the porch swing, carefree. No wonder life was so easy for her.
Hours went by and still I sat in the car. My excuse was that Fred Madsen might show up, then I could nail him and leave Maggie alone. But he never appeared. If I were him, I’d stay away from Maggie, too, for her safety. Although depending on the nature of their relationship, he might not have wanted to stay away. Hell if I could. There I was in her hometown, practically stalking her.
Maggie stepped out the front door, wearing baggy sweatpant
s, boots, and a huge coat. Her hair was thrown up in a messy bun, her cheeks turned pink from the cold. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful she was.
She climbed into a car and drove away. I followed her to a pharmacy, parking a few cars away so she wouldn’t see me. I tracked her as she headed for the store, her mouth moving and her head bobbing as if singing to herself.
I hadn’t realized I was smiling until it melted from my face. Shame and disgust itched at my skin. Maggie, this whole town, it was all too good for me. I didn’t belong, not in Hillstone, not in her life. She would hate it if she knew I was here, invading her home and her privacy. Not only would she not give me anything on Fred Madsen, what little trust she had in me would evaporate.
I left. I’d never find Fred Madsen without Maggie’s help, but she’d be safe enough from Simon here. Once he was out of the hospital, he’d be more consumed with Aguda’s boys than threatening Maggie. And hopefully I could nail him before his thoughts turned to her.
Chapter 42
MAGGIE
A few days after Christmas I went to the local pharmacy to pick up some supplies. I was browsing the aisles, all three of them, looking at the country knick-knacks, figurines of mice playing instruments and garish ‘designer’ purses, when someone made a loud and fake coughing sound.
I turned. “Hank!”
He reddened. “Hi, Maggie.”
Hank wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat for once. His hair was cut different, more stylish than it used to be. His tan had faded a little and his cheeks were red from the cold. Or maybe from running into me.
I hid the box of jumbo size tampons behind my leg. “How are you?”
“Good. Great. Yeah, fine.” He rubbed at the top of his head. “You?”
“Fine.” I probably didn’t look fine in my sweats, knock-off Uggs, and my dad’s giant parka. I wasn’t even wearing mascara. Hank looked hotter than he used to, but my heart didn’t flutter, not even a bit. Still, it felt comfortable to see him again. “I heard about you and—”
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