“Okay,” she said. “You want to know about the other night? Out of the kindness of my heart I’ll tell you. Yes, I was downtown. And sometimes I go to the Dairy Queen. Do I talk to any drug dealers? I don’t know. I might have. I talk to quite a few people. I don’t ask what they do for a living. Does this satisfy your raging curiosity?”
Again Scott remained silent, but Jenny could see the muscle in his jaw twitch.
“I can take the silence as a yes?” she asked.
She could see a battle raging on his face, but he finally nodded.
“Fine. And the next time you have a question, wait until I get home. You will never, ever, embarrass me like this again.”
The force of her words seemed to diffuse whatever internal energy was building in Scott. He let out a breath with an audible whoosh.
“Now go back to school before I get a call from the principal.”
Scott went out the door, this time closing it quietly. Jenny turned and almost ran into Mitchell.
He considered her for a moment, eyes wide with curiosity. “Were you really talking to drug dealers?”
“Don’t start.”
“Whoa.” Mitchell held up both hands. “I’m not accusing, or interrogating. But you have to admit that the explanation you just gave your son was a bit lame.”
Jenny tried to push past him. “It’s none of your business.”
“Pardon me?”
Jenny stopped and saw the surprise on his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so sharp. It’s just—”
“Stop. No more vague responses. Something’s going on. I can sense it. Hell, everyone can sense it.”
For Mitchell to take that tone with her, Jenny knew he was really upset. She looked away before his anguish prompted some verbal indiscretion.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“I can’t.” She kept her gaze averted. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
They stood in a frozen tableau for a long moment, then Mitchell sighed. “I’m only pushing because I’m worried about you.”
“I’m okay.” She gathered some paperwork from the counter so he wouldn’t see the lie in her eyes. “Nothing is going on.”
“I hope not. We all care too much to let something happen to you because you are in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
The kindness in his tone threatened to undo her, and Jenny struggled to maintain some semblance of composure. She touched the corner of her eye where moisture pooled, then willed the tears to retreat.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said when she was able to force words past the lump in her throat.
“Good. And when you are ready to talk, I’ll be here.”
The lump grew to a boulder, and Jenny gave a brief nod before skirting around him and heading to the bathroom in back. Inside, she leaned against the door, then slid to the floor. Tears coursed a warm path down her cheeks, but she did manage to still the urge to sob. She’d already caused Mitchell enough grief. He didn’t need to hear her cry.
~*~
Steve looked up in alarm as Gonzales burst into his office waving a piece of paper like it was on fire. “What the hell is this?” Gonzales asked.
“I don’t know, Boss. Are we playing some kind of guessing game here?”
“Don’t be a wiseass.” Gonzales slapped the paper onto Steve’s desk. “She’s applied for a concealed weapon permit. This is our part of the background check.”
“Who she?” But even as he asked the question a part of him knew the answer.
“Our fuckin’ undercover lady.”
Steve sat back in his chair, stunned. He knew the Chief was furious. He only said fuck when he was beyond mad.
“We gotta pull her.” Gonzales dropped into the chrome and vinyl chair in front of the desk. “A fuckin’ gun.”
“I think pulling her would be a mistake.”
The look Gonzales shot him made Steve wish he could take the words back, but his gut told him he was right. She was in too deep to abort the whole thing now.
“I’ll handle it.” Steve did his best to sound convincing. “Make sure she doesn’t take this any further.”
“And you figure she’ll just quietly go along?”
“Maybe not quietly. But she’ll cooperate. This is too important to her to risk blowing it.”
Gonzales snatched the paper and stood up. “Just remember whose ass is on the line if she does something stupid.”
Steve nodded and waited until his boss was out the door before releasing a big sigh. Just how much could he risk for this woman? And why did he feel so compelled to back her in the first place?
~*~
“So what did she say?” Caitlin lengthened her step to try to keep up with Scott who was striding down the sidewalk like he was on a forced march.
“Some sarcastic Mom thing.”
“Wait a minute.” Caitlin grabbed the back of Scott’s coat. “Will you please stop and talk to me.”
He slowed his steps.
“You don’t really think your Mom’s, like, doing drugs?”
“Why not? Everything else is fucked up in my life.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
He stopped and faced her. “What? You some kind of prude?”
Almost before the words had spilled out, Scott knew they were wrong. He saw a wince of pain on her face before she turned away. It wasn’t the language she’d objected to.
“Well, not everything in my life.” He tried a light caress across her shoulders, but she shrugged away. Damn! Is nothing going to go right?
“Hey, I’m sorry.” He reached for her again, but she took another step away. Then she turned and faced him.
“I know it’s been hard. Losing your brother. But it’s been months. I just wish we could have one day without you being in some weird mood.”
Scott had to bite down hard to stem the anger that rose like bile in his throat. That was totally not fair. They’d had plenty of days... “What about the dinner and dance last week? They were pretty mood free.”
“If you don’t count dissing the waiter.”
“He brought us cold food.”
Caitlin sighed and glanced away again. In the heavy silence between them, Scott became aware of two squirrels chattering in a nearby tree.
“I don’t want to fight,” Caitlin finally said. “I hate it when we fight.”
“Me, too.”
This time she didn’t move away when he put his arm around her waist. They started walking again, and the squirrels scampered further up the tree as they passed.
“Maybe it didn’t really mean anything. What Dan saw,” Caitlin said.
“Sure.”
Scott knew that wasn’t true. But if Caitlin needed to believe it, he’d let her. He wouldn’t voice the little fears that assaulted him every time his mother explained what she was doing.
Maybe if he just tried to ignore the whole horrible mess, it would all go away. His mother would go back to her old routine of working and taking care of them. It would be like none of this ever happened.
Yeah. Right. Except Michael is never coming back.
He swallowed hard and looked up at the expanse of bright blue sky. The glare was merciless and he closed his eyes. Better. He didn’t have to think in the dark.
~*~
Jenny hung up, glad that the kids weren’t home yet. There was no way that conversation would have been quiet. Fury still burned her cheeks and she paced the kitchen, trying to figure out what to do now.
Steve had been unyielding. No gun. No way. He was sending the paperwork back to the dealer with an explanation that the customer changed her mind.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” She jerked the refrigerator open and pulled a cola out.
When she turned around, she saw Alicia in the doorway. “How long have you been there?” Jenny asked.
“I heard you say bad words.”
Shit.
“I’m sorry, Honey. I’ve just had a rough day.
”
“You said we should never say bad words. No matter what.”
“You’re right. Should I just ground myself to my room?”
The sound of Alicia’s laughter was like a balm. Jenny had definitely been missing that lately, and she felt some of the weight of her dilemma lift.
She was about to ask Alicia what she wanted for a snack when the phone rang. She picked up, wondering if it was Steve calling again. Had he changed his mind? “Hello.”
“Mom?”
“You were maybe expecting someone else?”
When Scott didn’t respond right away, Jenny wondered if there was something wrong or did he just not appreciate her brand of humor. “You okay?”
She heard the distinct sound of a sigh, and it was so much like Ralph’s she had a hard time stifling a knee-jerk reaction. Luckily, Scott spoke first. “Can I eat dinner at Caitlin’s tonight?”
“It’s kind of short notice isn’t it?” Jenny asked. “You sure it’s okay with her parents?”
“Mom!”
“Okay, okay. I only worry that they have no clue what it takes to feed a teenage boy. Caitlin looks like she eats less than Jenny Craig.”
Another deep sigh from the other end of the line told her that he didn’t find that attempt at humor any funnier than the previous one. Ever since that day he’d questioned her at work, their relationship had been like a fresh sore. Easy to irritate and needing a lot of care. Humor was usually a good balm for any difficulty, but of late Scott wasn’t accepting any offer of healing.
Jenny felt a tightness in her chest, like someone had reached in and was squeezing her heart. She touched her breastbone lightly. Just what I need. A freakin’ heart attack. But she knew it wasn’t a heart attack, at least not in the strict physical sense. It was an attack of an entirely different kind. And this one wouldn’t kill her. It just left her emotions mortally wounded.
“Mom?”
“Sorry. Got distracted there for a moment.”
“Is it okay to go with Caitlin?”
Jenny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sure. Mind your manners. And remember to leave something for the dog.”
Scott groaned again, but this time there was a little chuckle mingled in. The pain in Jenny’s heart eased.
Soon.
Soon it would be okay. She would finish playing Wonder Woman, and then she could explain it all to him. Things would be okay again. They had to be okay again. Jenny didn’t think she could bear to lose another son.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Please don’t ask me to explain. I simply can’t.” Jenny faced her friend across the expanse of fine mahogany. How many times had they sat here in Carol’s kitchen sharing a cool drink and whatever was important in their lives? More than Jenny could even count, but never before had she made such a request.
“It’s not a cup of sugar you want to borrow, Jen.”
“I know.” Jenny stirred her tea, using the maneuver to avoid eye contact.
When she’d first gotten the idea to ask Carol about using one of Barry’s guns, she’d tried to examine it from every angle. Could she bluff her way through an explanation of why she needed one? Was the friendship still strong enough that Carol would back her on this? They’d survived a lot of ups and downs over the years, but Jenny could still see the hurt and anger that had filled Carol’s face the last time they’d been together. She also remembered how many times she called to apologize before her friend had finally picked up.
Carol had been chilly then and still was when Jenny had called earlier today to see if Carol had time for a visit. The chill had started to thaw during the ritual of offering and accepting tea and the initial small talk.
Then Jenny had made her request.
“Is it your business?” Carol asked. “You need protection?”
Jenny almost laughed at how close to right that question was. But it also gave her an easy out. If she said yes there was no reason for Carol to suspect the business had nothing to do with flowers. “Something like that.”
“So why not go the legitimate route?”
“I’m afraid Ralph might find out during the background check.” This response was easy. Jenny had anticipated the question when she’d first thought of asking Carol and had rehearsed an explanation that she could give without a flinch of conscience.
Carol dawdled so long over stirring the sugar into her tea, Jenny was afraid her friend was stalling to find some way to say no. Should she argue her case? Beg?
No. In all the years of their friendship, groveling had never appealed to Carol.
Jenny reminded her body to breath while she waited for Carol to respond. When her friend finally looked up, her expression reflected some kind of inner turmoil. “I need to know something, Jen.”
“What?”
“What the hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
Carol slapped the table hard enough that the teacups clattered and tea sloshed. “Don’t keep lying to me. You can’t know how much that hurts.”
Jenny did a mental scramble to try to come up with something reasonable to say.
“And don’t try the ‘I’m just trying to adjust to Michael’s death’ line either,” Carol said. “It didn’t work before. And I’m less inclined to buy it now.”
Jenny leaned forward in her chair. “Could you please just trust me about this?”
Carol started to say something, but Jenny halted her with a raised hand. “Let me have my say. Then you can decide.”
Carol nodded.
“Okay. I can’t tell you what’s been going on. I’m sworn to secrecy. But it’s nothing bad, or illegal. And if you loan me the gun, I promise I’m not going to shoot anybody.”
“If you don’t plan to use it, why do you want it?”
That wasn’t a question Jenny had anticipated. She bit her lip, searching for the right response that would appease her friend. “We’re the only ones who have to know I won’t use it.”
Carol wiped at the spilled tea with a paper napkin, appearing to consider Jenny’s words while she made small circles on the table. Then she looked at Jenny. “You’re not messing with those drug people? Trying to get revenge for Michael?”
Another question Jenny wasn’t expecting. Her friend knew her all too well. She took a breath. “No. It’s not about revenge.”
At least she could be honest about that. She’d spent many an hour mentally asking the same question, wanting to make sure she kept the line between justice and revenge clear. Vindication might be part of it. It seemed to go along with justice. But revenge was not even in the same family.
Carol sighed and wadded up the napkin. “Don’t you ever ask for another favor for the rest of your life.”
“Does that mean yes?”
“Come on.”
Jenny followed her friend into a spacious bedroom that in addition to the normal trappings, held a huge, teak roll-top desk. Every time she was here, Jenny felt a twinge of jealousy. This room had to be twice the size of her bedroom. And the adjoining bathroom was big enough to throw a party in.
But it was an awful lot of space to live in alone.
As Carol rummaged in the middle desk drawer for a key, then unlocked one of the side drawers, Jenny cast a quick glance around to see any signs of masculine visitation. Carol had said they were taking it slow, but certainly George spent a night or two here.
Then Jenny chuckled softly at the ridiculousness of what she was doing. What did she expect to find? A pair of boxer shorts kicked into a corner? Even if George was so compelled, Miss Carol-the neat-freak wouldn’t let them stay there for a second past climax.
Okay. That wasn’t fair. But they certainly wouldn’t be there the next day.
“This is not funny,” Carol said, turning with a locked wooden box in her hands.
Jenny didn’t even realize her thoughts had given rise to a smile. “I know. Sorry. Mind wandering.” She made a vague gesture, hoping her friend wouldn’t ask wher
e her mind had wandered to.
Carol gave her a long look, then set the box on the top of the desk and unlocked it. “I sold most of Barry’s collection after he died. Didn’t see any need for it since I’d never go back to the range without him. But I kept a few pieces that I especially liked.”
ONE SMALL VICTORY Page 11