The Secrets on Forest Bend

by Susan C. Muller

  Adam often wondered if Remy was trying to hide the fact he’d been born in New Jersey. Steinberg was a perfect example of what happened when the flame was turned up too high on the melting pot that was Houston.

  “Skip ahead a year and the boys, Antwoin and DeJean Avalon, are developing a reputation as up-and-coming dealers. When we got the description, the first thing we did, after moving the witness to a safe house, was get a warrant to search the boys’ home. We couldn’t find a thing. It was completely clean, at least in a legal sense. In actuality, it would’ve made a pigsty look homey. If their mama isn’t already dead, the sight of that house would kill her.”

  Adam made notes on a legal pad and causally dropped his pen on the floor. When Nelson rolled his chair closer for the third time, Adam looked him in the eyes and didn’t flinch. The roller hung on the pen and Nelson tipped forward. He grabbed the edge of the desk a nano-second before falling over.

  Adam gave a slow smile.

  Steinberg chuckled, but kept talking. “We’ll keep following the murder, but we need you to look for someplace else they could be keeping the drugs.”

  An hour later, deep into research on his computer, the phone rang. He answered it without thinking. “Homicide, Campbell.”

  “Adam?” He didn’t recognize the woman’s voice.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Lydia Cox. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  He tried not to groan audibly. “Not at all. What can I do to help you?”

  “I hoped we might try again for that pizza. Danny has the kids this weekend so the house will be quiet. We could have a few drinks, get to know each other.”

  Getting to know Lydia Cox was the last thing he wanted. Two weeks ago he might have been desperate enough to try, but after meeting Jillian he could see the difference. Jillian was a strong, independent woman. She’d made an effort to get to know him and find out if they had interests in common, before they started a relationship.

  Lydia was lonely, unhappy, and careening toward alcoholism. She didn’t care anything about him. She was only trying to use him to fill an empty weekend.

  He hesitated long enough before answering that she tried another direction. “It would be a big help if you could look at my new gun safe and tell me if it’s what I need.”

  “I don’t know much about them. You’d do better listening to whatever Jillian said. She’s the expert.”

  “Jillian? Do you mean J. R.?” She gave a short, unpleasant laugh. “So that’s what’s going on. Don’t get your hopes too high in that direction. I think you may find she’s playing for the other team.” With that, she slammed the phone down so hard his ear hurt.

  He spent the rest of the day at his desk. When he hobbled home, his rear ached almost as much as his foot. At least Rover was glad to see him.

  After supper, he spent an hour playing with the camera. He took shots of Rover using the zoom lens and tried to remember the setting for low light. The buttons were tiny, and he wanted to be sure finding the right one was second nature. He could use his cell phone, which was smaller and talking on it would look more natural, but he needed the special settings of the digital camera to be sure there was no mistaking Marshall’s face or the gun.

  He would only get one chance. If he blew this, Marshall would continue to piss on the department.

  He’d quit the force and take the crook on privately before he let that happen.

  Friday morning, Jillian dressed carefully for Billy’s memorial service. She had plenty of black clothes, but none of them were exactly church appropriate. Fortunately, the service was going to be held at the park where Billy died.

  It was more of a wake than a funeral. She’d arranged for several large coolers filled with ice and beer. Everyone would tell a story about Billy and toast his memory. He didn’t have many friends, but the beer was free so plenty of people would show up.

  Heather was waiting at the park wearing an over-the-top long black dress and a big hat with a veil. Jillian did a double take when she saw her. “Where in the world did you find that outfit? It looks like something from an old-time movie.”

  “It is. I saw it on a movie poster one time, and I always wear it to funerals.”

  “Do you go to many funerals?”

  “I used to, but not so much anymore. I like celebrity funerals. So many famous people are there. If I can make them stumble or drop something, it shows up on the news later. I used to wait at hospitals and nursing homes for someone to die. I decided if I was there just at that moment, I could see where they went, or hang on and go with them.”

  “I take it that didn’t work.” She’d always avoided encouraging Heather, but this was fascinating. Why hadn’t she known these things about her sister?

  “No, they’re just like me. They don’t go anywhere. It’s just over.” Heather adjusted her hat and veil.

  “How do you know they don’t go anywhere? Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they didn’t go. Maybe if you didn’t hold on so tight, you could cross over, too.”

  “Shut up, Jillie. You shouldn’t talk about things you don’t know anything about. I’ve told you before. There isn’t anything to cross over to. This is all there is. At least I have you. I’ll bet not all of us have someone who can see them and talk to them.”

  “Aren’t I the lucky one?” Jillian turned her back as she began setting up for the wake. Heather seemed talkative. Might as well try one more time to get the true story. “Do you think it’s appropriate for you to be here since you had a hand in Billy’s death?”

  “Are you back on that old horse? Anyway, this is for Billy’s friends. I knew Billy. I didn’t much like him, but I knew him. I know he was a big help to you. Besides, I don’t have many social occasions to go to. I don’t want to pass one up.”

  Unbelievable. Heather was incapable of caring about anything but herself.

  “This isn’t a social occasion, Heather. It’s a tragedy. A nice young man who was working hard to overcome his past was killed for no reason. I’ll miss him terribly. If you think my being lonely because he’s gone will make me closer to you, then you’ve made another major miscalculation.”

  “You aren’t that lonely. You’ve been spending a lot of time with that cop. I hope nothing else happens to him. Then you really would be lonely.”

  Jillian suddenly swung around, dropping the napkins she’d been setting out. “I swear, if you hurt him, I’ll never speak to you again.” The cloying scent of Heather’s perfume made it difficult to think.

  “Don’t worry, I haven’t hurt him. I’ve only played with him a little. A few minor inconveniences. Just enough to show you what could happen if you remain this stubborn. You probably shouldn’t take up with someone in such a dangerous occupation. Or if you do, you should tell me all the fun details. As for not speaking to me, you’ve said that before, and yet here you are, speaking to me.”

  Jillian’s heart sank more disappointment than anger. After Heather had tried to help her yesterday, she hoped Heather had changed, grown up a little.

  Heather would never change. The only thing she would ever care about was getting whatever she wanted, having what she called fun.

  Jillian turned her back on her sister. People were beginning to arrive.

  Adam stood in front of his closet door, staring. He had seen his ex-wife do the same thing many times. He never understood. Just reach in, grab something, and put it on. How hard was that? Now he got it. He put on his brown suit, but the coat pockets were false and the camera would be too obvious if he put it in his pants pocket. He tried to slip on his good brown shoes, but that wasn’t going to happen. Even if he could have forced his foot into them, he would have an obvious limp, and his entire plan depended on being inconspicuous.

  He finally decided on charcoal gray pants and a navy blazer. The blazer had a sturdy pocket that held the camera with no bulge. He slid his foot gently into a pair of dark gray tennis shoes. They were tight, but he could wear them without l
imping and, while not as good as dress shoes, they weren’t as noticeable as wearing one sandal.

  Adam stopped by the gym before he started work. His sweats were in his locker and it only took him a minute to change. He couldn’t use the treadmill, so he rode the bike for half an hour and then worked the machines. It was the first time he had worked out in several days and it allowed him to burn off some of the nervous energy he’d been feeling.

  He spent the day at his desk, working the phone and the computer. He did get a few good leads for Nelson and Steinberg, which helped pass the time, but the clock moved like a slug stuck in molasses. At 3:00, Jillian called to say she was on her way.

  “That’s perfect timing. Marshall just left the desk for his break so he should be back when you get here. Call me before you leave the car so I can get into place. This is your last chance. If you want to change your mind, I understand.” He held his breath. He wanted to keep her safe, but without her help he couldn’t work the scam on Marshall.

  “Not on your life. That man’s greed caused a lot of heartache. We might not be able to send him to jail, but we have to do everything we can. I tried to do the right thing and he used me, so I need to be part of his comeuppance.”

  He couldn’t have stopped Jillian if he tried, but if Marshall figured out what was going on she would be in danger. Jillian was a civilian. He should never have put her in this position.

  “I’m in the parking lot. Is everything ready?”

  “Okay, give me five minutes. Don’t forget, stand to the side so you don’t block his face.” Adam lowered his voice and whispered into the receiver. His nerves were jumping worse than the time he’d faced down a stoned construction worker holding a tire iron.

  He stood, stretched, and put on his coat. “I’m going on a coffee run. Does anybody want a Starbucks?”

  The only person in the room was Two Times Tommy, and he was too cheap to pay for good coffee. “No, I’m fine, I’m fine. I’ll stick with what I’ve got here, what I’ve got here,” he said, pointing to the cup of warm brown sludge that came from the coffee machine.

  Adam took the stairs down from the sixth floor and entered on the far side of the lobby. He watched until Marshall turned to talk to a group of officers starting out the door, then he slipped around the corner and stood behind some potted plants. He had time to pull the camera out of his pocket and adjust the focus before Jillian came in.

  The lobby had been empty when he opened the stairway door. It filled suddenly as two elevators discharged their passengers. He’d always disliked the building at 1200 Travis. With its marble and glass façade, it reminded him of a cross between a bank building and a skyscraper, not the headquarters of the fourth largest police force in the country. Now he was thankful all the windows allowed him to watch as Jillian climbed the stairs to the front door.

  With so many people in the way, would he be able to get a clear shot of Marshall?

  Two women from the Sex Crimes unit passed him on their way to the ladies’ restroom. They glared at him as if he were a pervert, hanging around in front of the bathroom. That alone didn’t bother him; all women from Sex Crimes glared at men. It was an unfortunate side effect of their work. If they started asking him questions, it would draw attention to him and ruin his plan.

  He wished he could use the camera on his phone, but the digital camera produced clearer photos. He began frantically patting his pockets and turned into the men’s room as if he’d forgotten something. When he came out seconds later, the lobby was clear, and Jillian was approaching Marshall.

  She marched directly to the desk and held out a small paper sack. “Good afternoon. I was in here about a year ago, and you were so helpful, I wondered if I could impose on you again.”

  “Certainly, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

  Adam clamped his jaw and drew air between his teeth. Marshall’s voice, his ingratiating manner of speaking, made him cringe. Eddie Haskell in the flesh.

  “A few days ago I found a friend of mine crying and playing Russian Roulette. It upset me terribly, but I was able to talk him into giving me the gun. Later, his mother and I took him to a rehab facility. I want to feel confident he never gets the gun back.”

  Jillian opened the sack and held the gun out by the barrel. “Could you take this and make sure it’s destroyed? Then if he asks for it back, I can truthfully say it’s gone.” She held onto the gun and looked to the side for a moment, as if trying to compose herself.

  “I’d be happy to take care of that for you. Your friend’s lucky to have someone like you who cares about him.” Marshall fumbled around in a lower drawer and came up with a pink form.

  Adam almost dropped the camera. Gotcha, you scum sucking pond slime. As quickly as it came, his elation slipped away. Catching Marshall was like cornering a skunk. Just because you had him trapped didn’t mean he couldn’t still spray you. And when he did, the stink would last a long time.

  Jillian took several minutes filling out the form. She turned from time to time, even lifting the form slightly. Adam got several good shots of her with Marshall in the background.

  Marshall took the form, separating it and keeping one copy for himself and giving one copy to Jillian. He placed the gun and his copy of the form in a lower drawer and smiled at Jillian. “You can relax now, ma’am. Everything’s taken care of.”

  She folded her copy of the form and put it snugly in her purse. “Thank you so much for your help. I’ll never forget you for this.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am. The HPD is always glad to help get guns off the streets of Houston.”

  Jillian walked out of the door just as the two women sex cops came out of the restroom. Their glare was even more intense than the first time they saw him. Adam wanted to follow them across the lobby, using them to hide his movements, but that would be riskier than crossing on his own.

  The coffee shop was exactly where Adam said it would be and Jillian slipped inside. She stepped up to the counter and ordered herself a cinnamon latte with skim milk and no whipped cream, but hesitated before ordering Adam’s. She remembered his smile when he tasted the coffee at her shop, so she ordered him a hazelnut with regular milk and whipped cream. No way was he a skim milk kind of guy. She was waiting with the two lattes when he arrived five minutes later.

  They both grinned when he pulled out a chair and sat. She pushed one cup his way. Words poured out of her mouth. “I didn’t think I was nervous. It was all so easy until I hit the street. That’s when the shakes started.”

  “You’re wasted in that gun shop. You should’ve been an actress. Meryl Streep has nothing on you. Not just the acting, either. You knew exactly where to stand and how to hold the gun and then the pink form so I could get a good shot of them.”

  She lifted her cup, but sat it down again immediately, too excited to drink. “Did you get some good shots?”

  “I think so. I was worried at first because so many people were in the lobby. By the time you got there, they’d left.”

  “That’s why I waited and looked around as if I didn’t know where to go. Of course, the desk was only ten or twelve feet away, so I couldn’t fumble around too long. Being that close to him was tough. I wanted to grab him and start shaking.” She nodded toward the camera. “Let’s see what you’ve got?”

  She scooted her chair next to his while he turned on the camera and began scrolling through the pictures. Her hand rested on his thigh, and the strength she felt though the soft fabric of his slacks reassured her.

  She studied each picture as he showed it to her, pointing to the ones she liked. “That’s a good one. You can actually see him taking the gun from me. Did you have any trouble?”

  “Two women, Sex Crimes cops, nearly arrested me for loitering in front of the restrooms, but I wagged my willy for them and they were so impressed they asked for an autograph. They’re experts on the subject, you know.”

  Jillian leaned her head back and laughed as the tension left her body. “Well, it
is world class, I’ll admit, but it’s what you do with it that’s impressive, and that is mine alone.”

  She kissed him quickly. “Why don’t I take the camera? I can go by the drugstore and have the pictures printed before you get home.”

  Adam hesitated a moment, then handed it to her. “I was worried about chain of custody, but I guess that doesn’t matter. We aren’t going to use them in court. I have to get back to the office before I’m missed, but I’ll slip out early and meet you at my house in about an hour.”

  After he left, Jillian sat back and drank her coffee, trying to calm down. The entire day had been stressful, but the unpleasant part was over now. She breathed deeply and the rich coffee aroma of the store did as much for her as the drink itself.

  Rush hour traffic was picking up as she left downtown, but the map Adam had drawn was good and she wasn’t worried about finding his house. Curious maybe, to see how he lived.

  “So, now you’ve become a spy? An undercover cop?” Heather leaned forward, crossing her arms on the back of Jillian’s seat. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Are you so infatuated with him that you’re willing to take risks that affect both of us? What kind of guy is he anyway, that he’d ask you to do something like this?”

  Heather must be worried if she’s willing to sit that close to my gun. “Keep out of this, Heather. It doesn’t concern you. It only affects me. And he didn’t ask me. I practically had to beg him. It’s your fault anyway. If you hadn’t interfered, none of this would have happened.”

  “I couldn’t let you destroy something that belonged in our family. It was Daddy’s and Granddaddy’s. I don’t mind you having a boyfriend, as long as it isn’t serious and you’re willing to include me so we can both have some fun. But if you start trying to cut me out, I’ll get angry. When I get angry, bad things happen. Remember, this guy’s a cop for God’s sake. Be careful what you tell him. Boyfriends come and go, but I’m your sister, and I’m forever.” Heather stabbed the air with a perfectly manicured nail.