by J. L. Wilson
"Then why keep him?"
I blinked in surprise at this pragmatic statement. "Lack of displayed affection is hardly a reason to abandon someone."
He moved closer. "That's good to hear." His arms went around me.
The kiss this time was long, exploratory, and by the time we finished, I was leaned against my kitchen wall and Jack was between my legs. When I opened my eyes, I surprised an expression of bewilderment and... I wasn't sure what I saw in his eyes. He smoothed back a strand of my hair, twining one curl around his finger.
"I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered. "I'm as bad as Strawn."
Drew's name was like a dash of cold water. I stilled in Jack's arms. "I don't believe Drew is involved with a drug gang. What kind of evidence are you looking for?"
Jack heard the frost in my voice and shifted, moving back slightly but still keeping me within the circle of his arms where he leaned against the wall, his forearms propped near my head. "I'm not looking for evidence. I want to see what you have."
I nodded toward the kitchen chair. "It's there."
He glanced over his left shoulder. "You had it all the time? Why didn't you tell me?"
I pushed lightly against his chest. His body was hard and warm against my hand. "You didn't ask me."
He went to the chair, taking the white envelope and emptying the contents on the table. SoSo watched this operation, his head peeking over the edge of the table and his blue eyes flickering between me and Jack as though asking why my table was being used by this stranger.
I longed to ask a similar question but instead I asked the question I had avoided all evening. "You don't think Drew killed Wade, do you?"
Jack straightened. "No."
I breathed a sigh of relief. The thought had aggravated me all night, festering its way into my thoughts. Jack's answer was prompt and, I thought, sincere.
I moved around the table, picking up the small trophy then setting it down to take a bundle of papers held together with a clip. "That's the big question, isn't it? Why was Wade killed? What kind of threat could he pose?"
Jack took a small spiral notebook and opened it. "I think the real question is why did he come to town?" His voice was once again cool. "He came here to meet Strawn--his partner. Who better? A person in law enforcement is the perfect partner."
"You're crazy. Drew would never put anyone in this town in danger."
"That's just it, don't you see? He could make sure that no one would be in danger. He could make sure the drugs moved through without anyone being harmed. Strawn is in the perfect position to help them."
"Drew would never do that," I insisted. "Never."
"Don't you think your judgment is somewhat biased?" Jack threw the words at me like weapons. I actually flinched.
"You don't know him the way I do," I said.
"He's been sleeping with Mina Wickman. Now he's sleeping with you. Why do you trust him?"
All breath left me. "He's not sleeping with Mina."
"Yes, he is. They've been having an affair. She mentioned it." Jack stared at me as though daring me to disagree. "Did he tell you he wasn't sleeping with her?"
I opened and closed my mouth. "No," I finally managed. "I mean, I didn't ask about it."
Jack smiled wryly. "But you knew, didn't you?" He picked up another set of papers. "Is anything missing?"
I gazed around my kitchen but saw no answers there, only SoSo's sleepy gaze. I remembered when Drew left me upstairs after making love to me. He had gone into the living room before leaving the house. "I don't know," I said faintly. "I didn't go through it all very thoroughly."
"So he could have taken something?"
Would Drew do something like that? I tried to imagine Drew in league with drug dealers. I remembered his voice, soft and gentle as he said, You're the sort of person I want to know for a long, long time. I met Jack's gaze squarely. "It's ridiculous."
"How do you know?" he demanded.
I hesitated before answering. How did I explain a lifetime of knowing someone, growing up with someone, sharing experiences with someone? I slid out of my chair and went to the windows overlooking my back yard. The rain had abated somewhat but mist still cloaked my ruined shed. I peered to my right as the motion light in Leo's back yard came on, causing dancing shadows to bounce across his swimming pool and patio. "I know Drew. He'd never do that."
"There's a lot of money involved." Jack picked up the photocopied pages from the journal. He stared at the pages. "Maybe he doesn't want to be only a small town cop any more. Maybe he wants something more."
I looked over my shoulder at him. "Don't confuse Drew's motivations with your own. I trust Drew."
Jack's head rose and his face underwent an amazing transformation. For an instant I saw rage tighten his mouth, saw his jaw clench and unclench. Then his eyes took on a distant, unfocused expression as though he remembered something, something that caused him pain. He closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them again, I saw that same bewilderment and confusion I saw earlier when he kissed me.
The phone on my counter rang, startling us both. I jumped and laughed shakily as I crossed the room to pick up the receiver.
"Dorothy, have you seen Baby Dot?" Mel asked, her voice tinged with panic.
I checked the clock over the sink. "It's almost one in the morning, Mel. I haven't seen her. Is she still out?"
"She's not like this. She's a good girl. She always calls if she's going to be late." I heard tears in Mel's voice. "I should never have let her go out with that guy. He's too old for her." Mel was tripping over her words in her urgency.
"Calm down, Mel." I turned to Jack, who had dropped the pages back on the table and was now pacing my kitchen. His face had settled once again into that impenetrable mask of professionalism, not revealing anything of the man behind the mask. "When did you last see her?"
"I saw her at the show. It was about ten o'clock. She said they were going to the Wizard's Wand to meet K.K.'s friends. I told her she had to be home by midnight at the latest." Mel sounded desperate. "She didn't like it, but she promised she'd be home. Dot's a good kid. She would never stay out like this without a good reason."
"I haven't seen her since earlier this evening. Did you call the police?"
Mel made a disparaging noise. "They said they can't do anything until she's gone for twenty-four hours. Dorothy, this isn't like her! Can you call Drew and see if he'll do something?"
I turned my back so Jack couldn't see my face. "I'm not sure that would be good, Mel. I mean, I can't just call him."
"It's Baby Dot, Dorothy! Please. Can't you help?"
I sighed. "I'll do what I can. If you hear from her, you call me."
"I will. Thank you." She hung up and I replaced the receiver.
"Problem?" Jack asked.
"It's my goddaughter. She's missing."
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. "That girl who was here the other day? The Goth one?"
"She's not really Goth. It's a phase."
"I've heard that before. Amy said that about her son when he got involved with the Wickeds." Jack walked around the kitchen table, staring at the papers and trophy there. "This case reminds me of Amy. It makes me wonder if I'm getting rusty, if I'm really looking at the evidence or if I'm looking for evidence. I jumped to conclusions then, too. What is it about this gang?" He shook his head as though trying to clear his thoughts. "I've been a cop for so long. First in the Army, then in D.C. then in the FBI. I can't trust anybody any more. I'm not sure I even trust myself." He started to pace again, but he stopped almost immediately. "You're the most trusting person I know. You trust everybody."
I thought of Drew with Mina and a pang raced through me so quickly I thought I must be having a heart attack. Was I wrong to trust him? I remembered the expression in his eyes when he made love to me and I had my answer. "I suppose I do. I think it's simpler to believe the best of people and try to be honest with them." I smiled wryly. "It makes it a lot easier than trying to re
member any lies you tell."
"I envy you that. You're lucky. I don't think I can do that anymore."
It all started to make sense to me, in a weird, convoluted way. I had to find out if I was right. "Why did you kiss me?" His face reddened but I pressed on, demanding an answer. "And don't give me any bullshit about me being kissable."
Jack moved, his eyes going anywhere but to me. "I'm not sure. I think..."
"What?" I swiveled to face him, my arms crossed to still their trembling. His kiss made me long for mad passion, foolish romance, and a chance to throw caution to the wind. But did he feel that? I suddenly wasn't sure.
Jack paced my small kitchen, his head down and shoulders hunched, obviously deep in thought. "Seeing you tonight at that show with all your friends..." He stared at me from across my kitchen table then gestured around the room. "Seeing all this--it's made me realize what I'm missing. It's made me realize what I don't have."
"You don't have a mortgage on an old house in a small town?"
Jack shook his head, unwilling to be cajoled into better humor. "This case has reminded me of Amy and what our life might have been." His eyes traveled around my kitchen, taking in the white painted cupboards, the faux marble countertops and the creamy yellow walls with a daisy border at the top. "I could be living like this now if things hadn't gone so wrong."
I started to speak but stopped when I saw SoSo's ears swivel toward the windows. That's when I heard it, too.
Voices, outside.
Chapter 16
The voices were low but I could tell there were several people, talking. "Jack." Fear made my voice tremble. "Outside," I whispered.
He was already moving, flicking off the stove light with a quick snap. "Over here." He gestured behind him, to the side of the kitchen opposite the windows.
I raced around the table to stand with my back against the wall separating my kitchen from the hall and the basement stairs. It was as far as I could get from the windows and still be in the room. My heart thudded so loudly it was probably audible.
Jack edged closer to the windows, peeking out once before flattening himself against the wall. I'd seen such a maneuver a million times in TV shows and movies but seeing it in person was odd. It made me realize how serious the whole thing was. He was being covert to save his life. The thought made me gulp.
"Is there another exit?" he whispered.
"The front door." I started toward the hall that led to the front but stopped when I heard voices there. "They're there, too. Who is it?"
"One guess." He pulled his gun from the holster nestled under his arm, the metal sliding along the leather with a soft hiss. Although he held it at his side, pointed downward, I knew he could aim it immediately and fire. It didn't make me feel better. It scared me. "I think the Wickeds have decided to visit you." He nodded toward my phone, sitting on the kitchen counter. "Call 911."
I picked up the phone, but the line was dead. "Nothing there. I don't understand. I just talked to Mel. What happened?"
"They cut it." He inched his way under the windows to the doorway separating my kitchen from the dining room. "Try your cell phone."
I reached for my purse but remembered my phone was still in the pocket of my Volunteer Jacket. I started to grab it when Jack said, "They're moving forward. We need to get out of here. Is there an exit upstairs? A porch? Can we jump?"
I considered the deck off my bedroom and shook my head. "It's too high." I thought frantically. "Come on. We can use the Tube."
"The what?"
I was already moving. I opened the basement door, surprised to see a light on below. Then I remembered that Sean had been there earlier in the day. He probably left it on. "Jack, come on!" I whispered urgently.
SoSo didn't need any encouragement. He thumped off the kitchen chair to race ahead of me down the basement steps. I saw his fat beige tail disappear into the craft-room side of the space. I went after him, not checking to see if Jack followed. I got to the bottom of the steps and turned left.
Jack sprang down the stairs behind me so quietly I barely heard him. I suppose it was part of his FBI training or something, but the man was quieter than my cat. Of course, that wasn't hard, given SoSo's girth. Jack's gun wasn't visible, so I suppose he re-holstered it, thank God. "Where the hell are you going?" he demanded. "This is a trap. There's no exit, it's a damn basement." He reached for me but I was already at the Tube door.
"Come on." I fumbled with the dead bolt and pulled the wooden door open.
"What is that?" Jack asked, peering around me into the tunnel.
"The Tornado Tube." I glimpsed movement behind us. SoSo watched me from the other side of the basement, one paw upraised as he hesitated at the entrance to the laundry room. He had a normal amount of cat curiosity but he also had a healthy distrust of the Tube since King and his minions scared the daylights out of us. He regarded me suspiciously as I paused in the entryway.
Loud voices rang out above us. SoSo's eyes widened and he dashed back into the craft room. When I took a step to the right to peek through the doorway, I saw his wiggling beige butt squirming under the workbench. I felt a momentary pang of worry but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't take him with us. I had to trust that his instincts to hide would keep him safe. I brushed past Jack and stepped into the dark Tube.
"Where does this go?" Jack's whispered voice echoed behind me.
I peered ahead. The lights were off and I took a long minute to fumble for the switch that activated the smaller side lamps, the only lights I could turn on from my end of the Tube. When they flickered on, I breathed a sigh of relief even though the illumination was barely stronger than a nightlight. I didn't want to run through the Tube in the dark. "It's a tunnel connecting my house to Mel's farmhouse." Jack stood uncertainly in the doorway. "Make sure that door is closed behind you." I didn't give him a chance to disagree. I started forward.
He turned and pulled the door shut firmly. "Is there a lock?"
"Not on this side. Come on." I hurried into the tunnel but had only gone a few feet when my phone vibrated in my Volunteer Jacket pocket. "Damn." I kept going forward but retrieved my phone to check the number displayed. I didn't recognize it so I kept moving, stuffing the phone back into my pocket and letting it go to messaging.
Jack, too, had his phone out. "We need backup." He kept the phone pressed to his ear as he followed me. I heard snippets of his murmured conversation while I let my eyes adjust to the gloom. I longed to break into a run, but the floor was uneven. A fall would slow us more than walk would. Fifteen minutes, I thought. I'm fifteen minutes at the most away from Mel's house. We can get out of the Tube and hide in the barn. Only fifteen minutes give or take a few. Surely we can get away.
I looked back but the doorway was gone now, shrouded in darkness. How long would it take before someone got into the house? Would they break a window? I suddenly remembered the garage door. I left it open to let Jack in behind me. I almost groaned aloud. Why not set out a Welcome mat?
I thought of the Professor across the street. Did he see the intruders approaching my house? I remembered the motion lights coming on at Leo's. The interlopers probably came through his back yard. The bulk of Leo's house would hide any movement from the Professor, Rosemary and her family, and the others on the north side of Garland Lane. The people next to Leo were on vacation and the house on the corner was vacant. These thugs either planned it all very, very well or they were damn lucky.
"Agent Tinsley...Dorothy Gaylord's house...possibly six or...Claire residence." Jack passed me, stowing the phone back in his pocket. "I hope she takes me seriously," he muttered. "I don't think your police department likes me."
"Who did you talk to?" I paused before the first niche to peer back the way we came. Was it my imagination or did I hear voices? I quickened my pace slightly, but the floor sloped upward and the faded old rug was bunched in spots. The lights didn't provide much illumination. I didn't want to trip.
"I have no idea. She s
aid she'd relay the message to one of the patrol units." Jack pulled back his jacket, reaching for his gun.
"Whoa. Wait a minute." I stopped, keeping my voice low but firm. "You can't use a gun in here. If you do, it'll bring the whole thing down." I eyed the ceiling, visions of Kansas dirt crashing around me.
Jack touched one whitewashed wall then put the gun away. "I see your point." He paused by the feed bin. "What the hell is that?"
"Come on." I brushed past him. "It's a--" I tried to decide on a way to explain the eccentricities of the previous owner but quickly gave up. "Never mind." Thinking about old man Burke made me remember the inspector who had similarly questioned the oddities of the tunnel. "Did Mel talk to you earlier? I told her to talk to you."
"About what?" Jack touched the wall with his left hand. "How deep is this?"
"I don't know. This passage cuts through the hill between my house and Mel's. It's really steep at the end. Did you talk to Mel?"
"About what?" He stared ahead, his gaze fixed on the next light.
I wondered if he was as claustrophobic as me. I decided I didn't want to know. "A guy came to her house a few days ago and claimed to be from the health department. He was in this tunnel. I met him when he tried to get in my house."
"He did what?"
I explained what happened in a few terse words and a few steps. "When Mel called them, they said there wasn't anybody there by that name. Do you think it's--" I stopped, not sure what word I was trying to find.
"It's suspicious. He was probably a scout for the gang."
"But why would they go to Mel's?" That didn't make sense. If they were scouting for a place to hide drugs in town, wouldn't they be at someone's house? Did they need a lab or something? I remembered a story I read in the Kansas City Star about a meth lab in rural Kansas where buckets of the nasty stuff were made. Was that what the gang had planned for Broomfield? Would they use our town as a kind of lab where they'd process heroin? Or were they thinking of using our town for storage? I didn't know enough about illegal drugs to make a reasoned assumption.