“Yeah.”
“Why?”
52
I shrugged.
“Christ. Because I wouldn’t have phone sex with you?”
“No, I turned it off because I was working.”
“Why didn’t you turn it back on when you were done working?”
“What is your problem? I just forgot, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. Especially after what happened with Leticia. You know it drives me crazy when I can’t get a hold of you for hours on end.” He heaved his leather jacket on the recliner. “You weren’t here and nobody answered the phone at your office.”
“That’s because Kevin was too busy fucking our client on the conference table to bother with anything trivial like locking the goddamn doors or answering the goddamn telephone.”
Martinez lifted a brow. “Run that by me again?”
“You heard right.” I rubbed the sharp pain
between my eyes with my thumb, attempting to stave off a headache. “Look. I’ve had a shit day. Not only did I spend hours dealing with cranky old people, I had a front row seat to Kevin nailing our very young, and as I discovered, very vocal client. I’m not up to dealing with your pissy mood. So if you can’t be nice to me, go away.”
I pushed my body from the doorjamb and returned to the kitchen. I craved a warm drink, something sugary and soothing. Coffee was out. Ditto for the perfumy tea Brittney had passed off as my Christmas 53
gift. My fingers curled around the box of instant cocoa and my belly muscles tightened. It was impossible not to dwell on the last time I’d made hot chocolate in this kitchen—for my nephew, Jericho, who’d since disappeared from my life, probably forever. No, hot chocolate wouldn’t be soothing at all.
The floor creaked. I looked up. Martinez shut the cupboard door, coiled his fingers in my hair, and pressed his mouth to mine.
It was a surprisingly sweet, but extensive kiss. He mollified me in a way nothing else—not even chocolate—ever had or ever would. He tipped my face back to meet his dark eyes.
“See? I can be nice.”
“You can do better.”
“Yeah? Maybe I’ll give it a shot if you do something nice for me.”
“Which would be?”
“Don’t turn off your phone. Put it on vibrate, but I need to know I can get in touch with you at all times.”
Not a casual request, and my warning bells jangled. “Tony, what’s going on?”
He sighed. “Some Hombres shit.”
I treated him to the narrow-eyed stare he usually leveled on me. “Not a good enough answer. Try again.”
“Until I know more that’s all I can tell you.”
Or all he would tell me. “Is that why you barged in here? To put the fear of Verizon in me?”
“If that’ll work.”
54
“Fine. I’ll sleep with the goddamn thing if you’ll stop nagging me about it. Seems I could use a bad dream talisman anyway.” I sidestepped him and opened the refrigerator. “Am I cooking dinner for two? Or did you just show up here to piss me off before you leave me to my own devices again?”
Martinez didn’t move. I felt his searing gaze on my neck as I studied the humble contents inside the fridge.
“Why didn’t you call me last night after it happened?”
“You’d’ve driven out here at two in the morning to hold my hand?”
“I’d’ve been here in a fucking heartbeat, Julie, and you damn well know it.” He paused and asked, “Who?”
The unwanted images slammed into my head. I couldn’t pretend the horror in my dreams was a freakish one-time-only nightmare. The faces might change, but the truth didn’t: I’d killed someone. My subconscious decided I needed to pay for that. Repeatedly.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“It was you this time, okay? So you understand why I didn’t rush to the phone to spill my guts that we were in a shootout and you killed me.”
“Fuck.”
I swung the door shut. “Yeah. Forget it.”
“No.”
“Tony—”
He spun me and clamped his hands around my
biceps. “You don’t have these goddamn nightmares when I’m in bed with you.”
55
“No shit.”
“When are you gonna admit …”
His shrewd gaze lingered on the dark circles under my eyes that makeup couldn’t hide. I stayed mum and stared back defiantly.
“I will hammer away at you until you talk to me about this.”
How well I knew that. “Fine. Everything was in bloody extreme slow-mo. A light flashed and we were blowing chunks out of each other. When I inhaled, my lungs hurt so fucking bad it was like I was breathing lead, which made it worse because everything smelled like you, then rot and death. And I was crying except when a bullet hit you, I’d laugh. Laugh, like she did after she shot me, and then I woke up alone.”
Screaming. I didn’t tell him that part, but I suspected he knew anyway.
Martinez didn’t haul me into his arms for a hug. His hands dropped like I’d become radioactive. Great.
I fled to my bedroom to avoid the argument.
Martinez’s solution to my nightmares was simple: sleep with him every night, wherever that might be. It wouldn’t be an issue if it meant crashing at his house regularly. But we spent less time at his hilltop fortress than any other place. I didn’t mind spending the night in his private rooms at Fat Bob’s, the biker bar he owned, or at Bare Assets, the strip club he owned
… once in a while. Problem was, even he didn’t know 56
where he’d end up after last call, and I didn’t enjoy playing musical beds.
Consequently, we weren’t together every night—a situation he blamed on me. And it drove him insane he wasn’t around to protect me from myself, which was sweet, if an unrealistic expectation on his part. I pressed my hot forehead to the window, welcoming the cool sting of icy glass. Would he leave or stay?
After a time, footsteps stopped behind me and I was surrounded by the familiar scent of leather. Of him. His heavy sigh stirred my hair. “I’m late for a meeting.”
“So go.”
“Jesus, Julie. Don’t.” Warm lips brushed the back of my head. “I know you want me to stay, and I wouldn’t leave if I had a choice. I hate that I don’t have a fucking choice tonight. There’s some shit I can’t …”
His fingers swept my hair behind my ear and he leaned in to whisper, “Keep your cell phone on, blondie.”
“Fine.”
“Promise me.”
“Okay, okay. I promise. Since I’ll be sleeping alone again tonight, maybe I will keep it very close … and on vibrate.”
Martinez’s soft laughter sent a hot burst of longing through me. I missed him. I missed us. He kissed the spot below my ear and left without another word. With half a dozen shots of Don Julio as a sleep aid, 57
not only didn’t I hear the phone ring, I didn’t dream at all.
The next morning it was snowing and blowing. I was half-tempted to call Luella and cancel our appointment. But I’d have to let Kevin know the change in plans and, frankly, I’d rather deal with a ground blizzard than with my randy partner. I resembled a hockey player when I crawled in my truck; warmth won out over fashion for me every time. Visibility on I-90 East into Rapid City was better than I’d expected.
Luella paced by the side door at Prairie Gardens and flung it open at my approach. “Kate! I was afraid you weren’t coming.”
Kate. Right. I’d forgotten my cover. “It’s not as bad out there as it looks.” I stamped the snow from my boots on the rubber floor mat. “Cold though.”
“Then I won’t offer to take your coat.”
We wound through the tables of a mostly empty common room and stopped at a metal counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space.
“Coffee?”
“Please. Black is fine.” This was the part I hated, making small talk. I p
referred to get down to business. 58
We sipped our coffee in silence broken by the distant buzz of a TV.
I smiled. “Is this the only food service area?”
“No. The main cafeteria is in the long-term care wing. This”—she gestured around us—“is used for snacks, parties, family gatherings, and such.”
“It’s very nice. Handy.” My gaze swept the walls as I searched for polite chitchat topics. “What are those plaques for?”
“Oh. Memorial contributions.”
“From … deceased residents? Like a wall of death?”
She studied the configuration from afar. “I never thought of it that way. Not very appetizing, is it?”
Before I responded, three loud beeps sounded from the black box clipped to her belt. Luella unclipped it and read the tiny screen. Her lips made an O before turning into a deep frown.
“Bad news?”
Her head whipped up. “Why would you ask that?”
Talk about suspicious. “You don’t look happy.”
“I’m not. Just something I have to take care of.”
I watched her weigh the pros and cons of asking me to accompany her. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No. This’ll just take a minute. Might be best if you—”
“I’ll tag along. It’ll give me a chance to look around.”
“But—”
“No really, I don’t mind at all.”
59
She didn’t argue.
As I trudged behind her into the hive I noticed several big green signs declaring, “I’m OK,” hanging from the knob. Was that the checkin system Reva told me about?
My nose wrinkled. Man. It smelled rank. Why didn’t anyone notice? Why didn’t someone do something about it? There had to be industrial-sized air fresheners that could mask the scent.
A young male in uniform, about six feet four and severely underweight, shifted nervously at the end of the hallway. The second he caught sight of Luella, he pushed his mop of Day-Glo orange hair from his eyes and lumbered closer.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. No one is at the front desk or answering the phone in the acute care wing and Ricky is late because his car won’t start—”
“Damon. It’s all right. Calm down.”
He swallowed and nodded.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I was doing rounds and I got to the end of the hall when I noticed there wasn’t no sign up on this apartment and the door was partially open.”
“What did you do?”
“I peeked inside and saw him lying there. Then I smelled him.”
Luella squeezed past him and pushed open the door. A sickly scent of rot, unwashed skin, urine, and shit wafted out from inside the room.
60
Someone was dead.
My fingers sought the handicapped railing behind me and I held on. Nice fucking start to my day. I looked at the room number.
“Damon? Could you come in here?”
His bulk had blocked most of the doorway and now I had a birds-eye view of the dead, if I chose to look. Don’t.
I didn’t want to, but my gaze wandered that direction anyway. An old, naked Indian man was sprawled on his side. I couldn’t tell if he was fat or just bloated from death gases. His thick neck was cranked so his bald head faced the door; his eyes were open as if he’d been waiting for someone.
I figured even if I moved closer I wouldn’t see a pool of blood anywhere, just the usual puddle of liquid from his bowels emptying. No foul play here. Only the final indignity of death.
Still made me want to throw up. I could’ve gone the rest of my life without seeing another dead body—even one from natural causes. I closed my eyes and listened to Luella calling 911 for a nonemergency situation. When she said, “Kate?” I nearly jumped from my skin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Why don’t you head back to the common room? I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”
“How long will you be?”
“Half an hour or so.”
61
“Okay.” That’d give me enough time. I spun toward hallway two. And luck was with me when I noticed the green “I’m OK” sign on his door. I knocked. Vernon Sloane answered by yelling, “What do you want?” through the closed door.
“Luella sent me to tell you she might be late.”
Silence.
“Mr. Sloane?”
The door opened. He blinked at me with vacant eyes.
“Hi, I’m—”
“Susie? Is that you?”
“No. My name is Kate. Is it all right if I come in?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he demanded, “Where’s Susie?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she coming?”
I turned sideways and slipped past him.
Luckily he didn’t throw me out, but closed the door. The apartment was unbearably hot, and I loosened my coat as I looked around. Typical bachelor pad; beige walls and carpeting. Navy blue couch. One battered tan recliner facing the window and the TV. No kitschy doodads anywhere. It was depressing as hell. Stacks of word search puzzle books were piled on one end of the coffee table. Two simple black frames hung above the sofa. A black-and-white wedding photo and a picture of a much younger Vernon sitting behind the wheel of a big old car. I stepped forward to take a closer look at the pictures.
62
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”
“Yes. When was it taken?”
“Oh, 1948. The same year I bought it.”
He wasn’t talking about his wife, but the car.
“I loved that Roadmaster. See, it’s a convertible?
’Course, you can’t tell the color, but it was the creamiest soft yellow, the shiniest paint Buick ever put on a car. Reflected like a mirror. Still looks pretty good for an antique. I’d offer to take you for a spin, but she’s kind of touchy in the snow. Nothing like those fourwheel drives everyone has these days.”
Hadn’t Amery told us her grandfather had totaled his car, resulting in the loss of his driver’s license? What was I supposed to do? Correct him? Play along?
Better change the subject.
I turned around and smiled.
His eyes clouded and he backed away, slowly, hands in the air in front of him like I’d jabbed a gun in his face. “Why are you here?”
“Luella sent me, remember?”
“You look like her, but you don’t sound like her.”
Maybe he was blind, too, because I hoped to hell I didn’t resemble a sixty-year-old woman. “Who? Luella?”
“My Susie.”
“I’m not Susie, Mr. Sloane.” I sat and hoped he’d do the same. “But as long as we’re on the subject, why don’t you tell me about her?”
“I can’t. They’ll kill her.”
Man. I was so out of my league. I’d never dealt 63
with this type of situation. “Okay. Why don’t you tell me about your granddaughter, Amery, instead?”
“Who?”
“Amery. Susie’s daughter.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Susie is just sixteen years old. She’s a baby, not old enough to have a baby. Are you trying to trick me into telling you where she is?”
Over your head, Julie. “Ah. No.”
“Who is this Amery person?”
“Never mind. I should—”
“Susie went away because I couldn’t keep her safe. They wanted to hurt her. Sometimes she sneaks in here to see me. I have to hide her from them. But that means my sweet girl has to hide from her papa, too.”
His vacuous eyes flared panic. “You won’t tell them she was here, will you?”
“No. Your secret is safe with me.”
His gaze pierced my forehead as if he could see my brain to gauge whether or not I was lying. “I’m paying them to keep her safe now. She’s in a place no one will ever find her.”
“Paying who?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?�
�� he snapped off. Mr. Sloane was getting more riled up. I knew I’d made a mistake barging in here. Problem was, I didn’t know how to fix it. He kept muttering and gesturing at me like he was warding off an evil spirit. It didn’t help I felt like I’d slipped on the devil’s skin. 64
My frantic gaze landed on the coffee table. “I used to love to do word search puzzles.”
Vernon Sloane glared at me. “You’re lying. Why are you really here?”
Shit.
“For more money?”
I stood. “Look. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll go.”
“I know your type. You smile while you lie so it’ll be easier to trick me.”
My cheeks burned.
“How much are they paying you?”
Not nearly enough. And while I hurt for Amery, having to deal with a deranged grandfather, I figured she was money ahead if someone like Luella shared the emotional burden. Whatever Luella was making wasn’t nearly enough. Sounded callous but I didn’t care.
“Mr. Sloane. It was nice meeting you.” If I hadn’t been wearing clunky boots I would’ve sprinted for the door.
He called out, “Don’t hurt her. Please. I’ll do anything to keep my Susie safe. Take my car. Wait. I’ll find the keys. They’re here someplace.”
Made my ears burn with shame to hear his pleading tone. “Susie is safe, remember? I don’t need your car.”
He didn’t respond. I was afraid if I stuck around I’d hear him crying. Making an old man cry. What a fucking great thing to add to my day after seeing a dead guy.
I stepped into the hallway and pressed my back to 65
the wall to slow my guilty breathing.
Screw this. Since Kevin wanted to take this case so fucking bad he could finish it. I had no reason to stick around and talk to Luella. I’d gotten more than I came for: proof anyone could take advantage of Vernon Sloane. Proof he needed acute care.
One thing left to do. I peered around the corner. Rubberneckers filled the hallway, mesmerized by the workings of the ambulance crew. Probably some kind of morbid entertainment for the residents. No one paid attention to me as I headed down hallway four and knocked on door 407.
66
First thing I noticed when Reva opened her
apartment door were all the bookcases. The second thing I noticed was the way her eyes lit up when she saw me.
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