“Or he’s gonna be an excellent kickboxer.”
“She for sure. We found out last week it’s a girl.”
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I grinned. “I am so happy for you.”
“That, I never doubted. So … come to Vegas?
Please? I want you to stand up there with me when I get hitched.”
“Just as long as you were kidding about the ugly dress.”
“Nope. It’s lilac satin with pink ruffles and bows, yellow lace, and a matching parasol. Ooh, and satin pumps with itty-bitty rose buds glued on. Dyed lilac, naturally.”
“Naturally.”
Kim sat up. “I don’t care what you wear. Just as long as it’s not black. Or white. Have Tony pick something out for you. He has good taste.”
“In all things,” he said from the doorway.
I jumped.
“Did you get Brittney home okay?” Kim asked.
“You took her home? Personally?”
He nodded.
“Call me if you need anything, Jules.” She whirled on Tony and chattered a Spanish phrase that made him grin.
After Kim left, he closed the door. “Before you chew my ass, let me say it was time I met your father.”
I didn’t ask him what he thought of Doug Collins, because I didn’t want to know. “Is he still alive?”
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“What did you do?”
“Honestly? Nothing. I imagined a lot of painful 453
things I could do. But unless he lays a hand on you now, I don’t give two shits about him.” Those black eyes bored into me. “I heard what Brittney said.”
“All of it?”
“Yes. I’ve seen you struggling with this relationship with her in the last few months. Obviously, any continued contact with your family is your choice, Julie, but I’m not gonna pretend I understand why you’d want it.”
“Me either.”
“So, what now?”
“Now I say thank you.”
“For?”
“Saving me.”
Martinez shook his head. “Like I told the doc. You saved yourself yesterday.”
“I’m not talking about yesterday, Tony. I’m talking about every other day since we’ve been together. Being with you has saved me.”
We stared at each other, aware another boundary between us had disappeared.
He softly said, “Same goes.” Then he locked the door and came to bed.
454
Then next morning I complained, “Why don’t I get to choose?”
Martinez sighed. “Because I know who you’ll pick.”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “But, sugar-sweetiepie-honey-bun, you know I’d choose you every time.”
No-neck, Cal (God, I had to stop calling him Noneck), and Buzz grinned. Their mirth disappeared the second bossman glared at them.
“No, you’ll pick Big Mike. Since the two of you decided to handle things without my consent, or approval, you know you can get around him, and that ain’t happening again.”
Big Mike glanced at me from beneath blackened eyes. The balloonish swells on his face deflated some, although his mouth was still puffy, like a Botox 455
experiment gone awry.
I didn’t break eye contact. It was the least I could do; acknowledge his sacrifice, since he’d borne the pain of our joint decision to circumvent Tony. When Martinez discovered Big Mike’s idea to smoke out Jackal, my solo excursion with Nyla, and the fact we’d kept our nefarious plans a secret from the allpowerful El Presidente … well, El Presidente blustered into El Niño and showed his wrath big time. With his fists. The other Hombres security goons did nothing to stop it; Big Mike did nothing to defend himself. I hadn’t known about the disciplinary act until after the fact. I wouldn’t have interfered because Big Mike had chosen the Hombres lifestyle. He knew the penalty for disobeying a direct order. The other bodyguards considered Big Mike’s punishment fair. Just. Swift. Big Mike aimed his focus on Martinez. “With all due respect, sir, I’m probably the first one you should trust with Miz Collins’s safety since I have the most to lose if anything happens to her.”
Martinez leveled a tough guy glower on all three men. “True. But I’m giving the headache to Buzz today.”
I opened my mouth to protest the headache moniker, but it snapped shut when Tony growled, “Out,”
and everyone scattered.
He stalked me, and damn if I didn’t retreat until my back hit the wall. “Quit bullying me.”
“I haven’t even started bullying you, so don’t 456
fucking push me. Three rules today, in order for you to walk out of this house with Jackal still on the loose. One—You will not go anywhere without Buzz. Two—
You will listen to Buzz. Three—You will not ditch Buzz. If you break any of these three simple rules, I will lock you upstairs in Bare Assets and leave your buddy Charity as your caretaker. Is that clear?”
“You are a cold, mean bastard, Martinez.”
“And your point is?”
I looked down at my hands. “Does Kevin know?”
“That I’ve assigned you a temporary bodyguard?
Yes. Specifically why? No.” His warm fingers lifted my chin. “He knows I’ll go to extremes to keep you safe. Once Jackal is gone, things will return to normal.”
“Promise?”
“Yes. Sure you’re up to going into the office today?”
“I have to do something … normal.”
“I understand. At least Buzz won’t bitch about the music in your truck. He loves that caterwauling crap you’ve been listening to lately.”
“If you’re done insulting me, can I go?”
He gifted me with a steamy tie-my-insides-inknots grin. “Uh huh. Just as soon as you say it.”
“Sadistic fucker.”
“Such a sweet talker.” Martinez nuzzled my ear and whispered, “You know what I want.”
Perverse of me to withhold it? Yes. But dammit, I liked that he was as greedy to hear it from me, as I was 457
to hear it from him.
“I’m waiting, blondie.”
“Fine. I love you, okay?”
“Mmm.” His teeth nipped my earlobe and he
backed off.
“Forgetting something?”
“Fine. Te amo, okay?”
“That wasn’t I love you.”
“Yes, it was. As heartfelt as you said to me.” He kissed my forehead. “Later.” And he was gone. Buzz let me drive. He wasn’t chatty, but he wasn’t as scary/stoic as Bucket. He didn’t bitch when I sang along to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.
I wondered if he’d just sit in the reception area all day staring into space. Or if he’d brought a book. Or guns to clean. Or knives to sharpen.
Kevin gave Buzz a once-over before beckoning me in his office. He even shut the door. I was really in for it.
I moved to the comfy chairs across from the desk, but Kevin stopped me cold.
He whispered, “I want to know every fucking thing that’s going on, right now. You may have loyalties to Martinez, but you also have loyalties to me. 458
And if you don’t think you can trust me, Jules, when we’ve been friends since we were twelve, then walk out that fucking door and don’t come back.”
Kevin’s ultimatum pissed me off, yet I knew he was right. So I gave him the abbreviated version of my current saga.
Afterward, he paced. When he stopped and faced me, I recognized his hard expression, and I braced myself for another make-or-break moment in another relationship in my life.
“Is this the life you want, Jules? A bodyguard?
People gunning for you because you’re with him?”
“I know you don’t understand—”
“I don’t. Not at all.” Kevin’s hands cupped my shoulders. “What about down the road? Will you be swilling tequila in a biker bar, dodging bullets and rival drug dealers in ten years? Twenty? Don’t you want a family? Kids?”
“And a house
with a picket fence, a nine-to-five job, a husband puttering around on weekends? No. I’d make a lousy fucking parent, Kev, and not just because of my childhood traumas. I don’t want the life everyone else leads. Not because I’m cool, or a rebel, but because I like the way I live. I like my job and my friends. I’ve done some stupid things, some dangerous things, made some serious mistakes, but falling in love with Tony Martinez was not one of them.”
“You deserve better.”
Count to ten. To twenty. To one hundred. As high as 459
it takes to stay calm and keep this in perspective.
“I’m gonna say this one time. He is a permanent part of my life. Period. If you can’t handle that, then I will leave. But don’t make me choose. Please. Don’t make me choose.”
Those thoughtful green eyes bored into me: heart, body, and soul. A lump lodged in my throat when I considered I might not be the type of friend or business partner he wanted anymore. I understood, even when I wished I didn’t.
We stared at each other for a long time.
Then Kevin used the charming grin that’d won me over in Mrs. Swigart’s seventh grade English class.
“It sort of sucks.”
“What?”
“That I’m jealous as hell. You’ve found a man who takes you as you are, on your terms. Much as I love you, Jules, and harbored this crazy idea you and I would eventually end up together?” He shook his head. “I’d try to change you. Hell, I try to do it right now—even when you don’t need it. And you, my friend, have always deserved better.” He kissed my forehead. “Now get your ass to work and file something.”
I turned away so he didn’t see the moisture in my eyes.
460
There really wasn’t much for me to do. I hid in my office and smoked, trying to piece together my recent life events.
My father had either helped commit murder or covered it up.
What purpose would jail time serve for him or DJ? Besides to allow Melvin Canter’s actions to ruin yet another family? I vehemently disagreed with Dad’s reasoning and willingness to sacrifice Brittney’s emotional well-being to save DJ’s, but he was a hundred percent correct that if he went to jail, Trish and the kids would lose the ranch.
Truth was, Melvin Canter was a piece of human filth. The world was better off without him because the justice system hadn’t worked—numerous times. So, once again, I was dealing with issues of vigilante justice. Once again, I was turning a blind eye to the outcome. And I’d become well versed in keeping secrets about orchestrated endings:
Bobby Adair.
Maurice Ashcroft.
Roland Hawk.
Melvin Canter.
All dead, none by my hand, but all deaths well deserved, and none mourned.
Was I becoming what I’d once loathed? Passing judgment only when it suited my parameters and ideals?
Acting indignant when it didn’t?
461
If I had the chance to kill Jackal, would I do it?
I had an up close and personal view of his “humane”
execution of Trina. He’d left me to die. Jackal would happily destroy Martinez if given the opportunity. Losing Martinez would destroy me. I’d finally begun to heal from losing Ben.
I’d convinced myself killing the person who’d killed my brother would be easy. It hadn’t turned out that way. I still suffered from nightmares. But not from guilt.
So why did I see Amery Grayson’s murderous actions as wrong? How was what she’d done somehow worse? Even when I wouldn’t feel any differently if I knew she’d whipped out a gun and shot her grandfather rather than leaving him to freeze to death alone?
Were her motives less pure because of the vast amounts of money involved?
Was honor or revenge a more acceptable reason for murder than a financial windfall?
Yes. I don’t know how I’d come to that realization, but it worked for me. I’d colored it another shade of gray. If God, or Buddha, or Allah judged me harshly, so be it. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t allow the legal system to judge Amery Grayson given the chance. As I was getting ready to leave, the intercom rang.
“Julie. Luella’s here to see you. Buzz won’t let her in.”
I stormed out my door and glared at my bodyguard. “She’s fine. Let her pass.”
462
Buzz shrugged and stepped aside.
“Hi, Luella, come on in.” To Buzz I said, “I’m not leaving the door open, so don’t even ask.”
“Coffee?” I asked politely.
“That’d be great. Black.”
When I returned with the cups, she was looking at the picture of Ben and me, taken the summer after I’d turned eighteen. We were both laughing. Happy. Young. Cool. It was my favorite picture because it reminded me we had lots of good times before his murder. I’d placed it next to a picture of my mother and me mugging for the camera the summer before she died.
“Is this your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“Handsome. What was his name?”
“Ben Standing Elk.” I braced myself for a gasp of surprise. Leticia’s death had caused huge ripples on the White Plain Reservation, and I’d found myself sucked into the riptide and spit out. I chanced asking,
“Do you know the Standing Elk Family?”
“No. I’m from Eagle Butte. And I won’t snap at you and assume you meant because I’m Indian I should somehow know all the other Indians in the state.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Sorry. I’m just a little sensitive about that.”
“I can imagine.”
She took the coffee and dropped her coat on the chair, and I fished out my cigarettes, giving her time to 463
settle. “What I tell you is confidential, right?”
Ethical dilemma.
No. It’s only a dilemma if she tells you what you don’t want to hear.
My thoughts teetered between serving my
conscience and serving hers. I sighed. “Yes. It’s confidential.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said and I still don’t know what to do.” Pause. “I’m sure you figured out Vernon made another will just a couple weeks ago.”
“Yeah, I did. I guess I wondered how it happened. Did he ask you to take him to a lawyer’s office?”
“No. He hated to leave the facility. We had a group seminar geared for the new residents, dealing with updating their wills, and Vernon showed up. I helped him fill out the paperwork, never expecting he was serious. The only reason he willingly hung around other residents was when I was there to act as a buffer.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s not what you think. We were just friends. Vernon hated group activity weeks because I usually did Admin that week and spent less time with him. Anyway, the will kit was a simple ‘do it yourself ’ jobber we use at the retirement center as a template. I didn’t notice he had it notarized until we were back in his room.”
I had guessed right about the will not being on file in some legal office. “Where is the will now?”
“At my house. And if your next question is if there 464
are copies elsewhere, the answer is no. I have the only copy.”
“What did Vernon change?”
She shifted. “Everything. He cut Amery out of it completely.”
“Who gets the estate?” Luella hesitated a beat too long and a sensation like I’d swallowed ground glass spun in the pit of my stomach. “You?”
“No. Worse. Prime Time Friends.”
Another ugly pause.
“Ironically enough, when I was put in charge of the program I was under orders from Mr. Boner to convince Vernon Sloane to gift some of his money to us. That was the initial reason I’d insinuated myself into his life. Horrible, isn’t it?”
The pain in her voice made me cringe.
“But the plan backfired on me.” She made dents in the top of her Styrofoam cup with her fingernails.
“The more I got to know Verno
n the sorrier I felt for him and the more I wanted to protect him. Everybody wanted a piece of him, and no one saw what a sad, lonely little man he was. I did.”
“So by playing on his sympathies, you got him to sign over everything anyway?”
Her skin became a deeper shade of scarlet. “It might seem that way. I did feel guilty, which is why I initially never told anyone about the new will. He gave it to me because he said he didn’t want it around, but I don’t know if he meant for me to hide it or destroy it. 465
So I don’t know what to do.”
“Your option seems pretty cut-and-dried to me. You turn in the will, get to be the big hero to Prime Time Friends, and Amery gets nothing. I doubt we can prove she killed him—”
“But what if she didn’t kill him?” Luella’s eyes finally met mine. “Like you said, there’s no proof.”
“Now you think it was an unfortunate accident?”
“I hate to say this, but Vernon had been known to wander. Out looking for his car. Waiting for his daughter to pick him up even though she’s been dead a while. One time last fall I found him in the drainage ditch.”
“Why are you waffling on this, Luella?”
“Because I don’t know which one is worse. Amery getting the money or PTF.”
“But wouldn’t you get five percent of the five million as a finder’s fee?”
Another bout of silence.
“I don’t want it.”
“Why not? That’s like … a lifetime supply of cash.”
“It’s blood money. Do you really think Bradley Boner is just gonna hand it over?” She shook her head.
“He’s been trying to get rid of me since he took over. He’s racist. He thinks I’m too old. Mark my words, he’ll find some way to keep every penny and make me look bad and where will I be?”
Was her paranoia justified? Was that why she 466
hadn’t told Boner?”
“Doesn’t matter if Amery or a staff member killed Vernon; it doesn’t change the fact I’m benefiting from a man’s death, when the man shouldn’t be dead. When I should’ve been more vigilant about protecting him.”
“Luella. It’s not your fault. But I missed something when you said a staff member might’ve killed him. Why?”
“What if Vernon told someone else who works at Prairie Gardens besides me about changing his will?
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