Lady Luck

by Kristen Ashley

  “He’d partnered with a dealer,” Walker told Tate.

  “Yeah, Peña explained all about Duane Martinez. All about him.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Far’s Peña could tell, Rodriguez propped up Martinez. He mighta had some cracked respect from Peña but still, Peña said Rodriguez wasn’t the sharpest tack when it came to relationships. Apparently, this Martinez guy is downright blunt when it comes to everything. Rodriguez didn’t have enforcers. Rodriguez did time. Rodriguez was an athlete. Rodriguez could take care of himself and his girls and he did. Personally. Peña says Martinez used the association with Rodriguez as a shield. He says he has no evidence Rodriguez dealt dope, never had any and he looked deep. He had his stable, he stuck to his stable. But Martinez and Rodriguez were tight, brothers from the ‘hood and Rodriguez gave his brother protection.”

  “Went down doin’ it,” Walker muttered, his eyes sliding to the station seeing Lexie at the counter, yammering and smiling at the clerk who was smiling back in a way that, Walker suspected, she went on for two minutes longer, the man would get down on a knee no matter the diamonds on her left finger.

  “Maybe not,” Jackson said into his ear and Walker’s gaze went unfocused.

  “Maybe not what?”

  “Martinez inherited Rodriguez’s stable.”

  Walker felt his chest start to burn.

  “What?” he asked quietly.

  “Peña has no proof but everyone knew who did what with those two. And Rodriguez was well-liked by everyone but other pimps. The tragic hero. Losin’ his scholarship was part of it, he was famous in his ‘hood and not livin’ the dream didn’t make that fame fade just changed its nuance. Further, this guy was a badass. Acted as his own enforcer, never got bested. That kinda reputation holds a lot of sway. That said, according to Peña, he was just a nice guy. His word was gold. He was a diplomat. A peacemaker. A master at balancing while standin’ on a fence. There was a sit down; he was often called on to mediate. People trusted him. He was solid. A rival dealer needed to take someone out, he wouldn’t aim for Rodriguez even if he was providing protection for his brother partially because Rodriguez was well-liked and this would be unpopular, mostly because Martinez is not well-liked.”

  Walker kept his eyes locked on his wife as he asked, “Peña thinks Martinez ordered the hit?”

  He asked it but he knew. He knew men like Shift. He knew. That piece of shit would do it and still cry at the funeral.

  “That’s the word on the street, according to Peña. Murder never solved but that shit spread wide and Martinez moved up the ranks. You gotta be one cold motherfucker to take down your brother in order to take over his stable. He recruited soldiers and got a different kind of protection. But Peña says there’s more. Says Martinez was resentful of Rodriguez’s success on the basketball court then his respect on the street and his way with his girls, especially seein’ as he hit the game late, after he came back from Indiana and Martinez had been in the game for years by that time. Says Rodriguez was blind to that shit. Wouldn’t hear a word against Martinez and that was what Peña was using to sever the ties and get him to go straight. Peña is convinced Rodriguez stayed in the game to have his brother’s back. Rodriguez never explained why those were ties that bind and why they bound him so tight he’d risk losin’ his woman and family but he figures something in their history connected them and Rodriguez was the kind of man who took loyalty seriously. Unfortunately, Martinez was not.”

  Walker watched Lexie push through the door, juggling two, white plastic bags filled full with what he suspected was not apples and bananas and a cardboard container holding two huge-ass beverage cups at the same time flicking the arms out on her shades and shoving them on her face.

  “Lexie’s comin’,” he warned Tate.

  “Right,” Tate replied.

  “Fast, tell me if I got a problem with either Peña or Martinez.”

  “Shits me to say it but yes to both. First, Peña says that he’s got the feeling that Martinez has got some hold on Lexie and he’s been in contact with her the last few years after Rodriguez went down, offering help, keeping an eye on things. She’s been, he reports, uninterested and Peña thinks she’s got her head in the sand and just wants to move on with her life clear of that shit. He’s worried about it and he’s in the position to know if he should be worried. Now, whether Martinez’s reach goes outside Dallas, that’ll take me makin’ a few more calls.”

  Peña was right. Shift fucked Lexie. Huge. The question was, setting up Lexie for what she was doing for Walker, did he think he was done with her?

  Walker would have to explain to him that he was.

  Lexie was halfway to him, smiling bright, her hips swaying as she walked not having any idea just how much and for how long her world had been controlled by a piece of shit motherfucker. And now that she was free, he hoped she’d die not knowing it.

  He jerked up his chin to her and muttered into the phone, “The cop?”

  “Wasn’t in the same room with him but gotta say, his interest was borderline unhealthy. It magnified when I told him she was tyin’ the knot. Though, she’s in Colorado with you and he’s not on her radar so there’s fuck all he can do.”

  That wasn’t true and Walker knew it. You got on the bad side of a cop, the reach was long. He knew it because six years ago, he experienced that reach stretching from Colorado to California.

  Lexie was at the passenger door looking over the roof at him and aiming the straw of one of the drinks to her mouth. She captured it between her lips and sucked as her head tipped to the side.

  “A second, baby,” he murmured to her, watched her release the straw as her mouth got soft, she nodded then juggled her shit as she opened the door and started to fold in. To Tate he said, “He seem frustrated or pissed at this news?”

  “Nope, just interested. Maybe relieved but I couldn’t tell. I don’t know dick about this guy, still, he’s holdin’ a torch and that torch is burnin’ bright. Since I don’t know him, don’t know if he doesn’t give a shit he gave that up or if he’s also not the brightest bulb. Could make a few calls, get some inside information and do it on the quiet. See what you got on your hands.”

  “Run with that.”

  “Right. You want me to look into Martinez?”

  “I’ll deal with him.”

  Silence then, “Ty –”

  “That time I spent in Dallas?” he asked then didn’t wait for an answer. “Became acquainted with him.”

  “Right,” Jackson said making guesses that were probably not accurate.

  “It’ll be cool,” Walker assured him.

  “Okay, brother.”

  “Lexie’s back and we gotta hit the road.”

  “How much shit she buy?”

  “We’ll hit Carnal next week,” Walker answered and Jackson chuckled.

  Then he muttered, “Full of shit,” and finished, “I’ll see you tonight at Bubba’s.”

  “Bubba’s,” Walker agreed. “And Tate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks, brother.”

  “You got it.”

  He heard the disconnect, flipped his phone shut, shoved it in his back pocket, returned the gas cap, angled into the car and shut the door.

  “Fritos or Cheetos?” Lexie asked before his ass was fully settled in the seat and he turned to her.

  “Neither.”

  “Okay. Pork rinds or CornNuts?”

  “Babe, please tell me you didn’t buy pork rinds.”

  She grinned at him then declared, “Barbeque flavored.”

  He shook his head and faced forward, twisting the key in the ignition.

  She transferred the cups into the cup holders while he pulled out, telling him, “I got you a Coke.”

  “You gonna bitch when I toss it out the window?”

  “Yes,” she replied instantly.

  He sighed but only to stop himself from smiling.

  “Everything cool on the phone?” s
he asked quietly.

  “Yeah, good. Tate, a friend of mine in Carnal. You’ll meet him, good man.”

  “Good,” she said, now her sweet voice was soft and, having dumped her bags to the floor, she nabbed the iPod.

  Walker braced.

  Five seconds later, 50 Cent’s “Disco Inferno” filled the car.

  “Baby,” Walker whispered to the windshield through a smile.

  And it was a smile that his wife caught, the first one she’d ever seen and he had no idea that seeing it meant that for the next two hours she gave him Outkast, Eminem, Jay-Z, House of Pain and Snoop Dogg somewhat losing her way playing some TLC, Beyoncé and Black Eyed Peas but he didn’t complain about the last.

  At least none of them sang about a man called Amos Moses.

  * * * * *

  Lexie

  I rode the high of the beauty of Ty’s smile for at least an hour then my mind reminded me of Ty calling me “Lex” in that casual but immensely sweet way, a name no one called me, a name that was all his so I rode that for the next half hour. After that, I rode the high of the last couple of days, a high so high it felt like I could coast it forever.

  Even though these things filled my mind as I endeavored to find as much hip-hop and R&B for Ty as I could on my iPod (I liked it but I couldn’t say I was often in the mood for it so the selection wasn’t all that great, something I needed to rectify), I still managed to see the stunning beauty of Colorado most especially when we drove by the Colorado National Monument, something I decided we had to come back and take a closer look at. I also wanted to go back to Moab. Driving around in a car was one thing but, although I was nowhere near an outdoorsy type of gal, it was the kind of place you had to get out and walk around in order to see as much of it as you could pack in, something we didn’t have time to do.

  I was riding so high on all things Ty; it came as a surprise when we passed the sign that said, “Welcome to Carnal”. When I saw it, my mind instantly cleared and I came alert, looking around Ty’s hometown.

  It wasn’t what I expected. One long main street, starting with the tidy, flower-festooned Carnal Hotel (which, regardless if it was tidy and flower-festooned, it was more of a motel then a hotel) on the left and ending with a big mechanics garage on the right with residential areas leading off the main street which were compact rather than sprawl.

  Ty was jeans and tees but he was also suits and cufflinks so I knew his hometown could be anything. Still, I didn’t expect it to be what it was. Small, seemingly quiet but obviously populated and not a single building had been built in this decade or the last or the one before that.

  I liked that.

  It was also surrounded by tall Colorado hills which were surrounded by taller Colorado mountains, neither of which I had seen except in pictures before that day and both of which I instantly loved.

  The town was ordinary, settled, you’d drive through it and probably not pay much attention.

  And I liked that too.

  Ty drove us by the mechanics where the town and the residential area abruptly died away with only a few houses dotting the valley. About a half a mile out of town, he turned left and drove into the hills where, after a short while, we hit thick pine and aspen. Not too long after that, he turned right into a road I wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t turned there. Another short drive that was all pine and aspen on both sides broken intermittently by boulders, this suddenly opened up to a development that was far newer than the town we’d just driven through.

  Whoever planned and built it, they did it with care. It was a bunch of three and four story buildings dotted up a steep, winding incline, all an attractive red-brown wood and lots of windows, all with abundant decking to enjoy the views, all with their own short, private drive at the mouth of which was a mailbox. The houses weren’t close together but they were also not far apart. Quite a few of the pine trees and aspens between the houses had not been disturbed when they built so they provided even more privacy. Every single one was taken care of but there were a few that really were taken care of with big planters and flower boxes filled with blooms and trailing or spiking greenery, a couple of flagpoles with American flags, some with decorative accents on the outside like iron Kokopellis, terracotta suns and fancy outdoor lights and some with very attractive deck furniture.

  It was awesome and I figured that Maggie and Wood lived there and we were there to pick up the keys to Ty’s condo. This meant I’d been right to take extra time getting ready that morning. If I was coming home like Ty was, I’d want to see family and friends right away. I figured Ty would want to do that too and I would be with him when he did so I wanted to look good for him when his posse met me.

  He drove to the very top of the development, turned left into the private drive of the last of the houses in the development, this one a little bit more removed from the others and having pine and aspen at its sides, one side a steep decline that eventually led to another house, the other side leading into nothing but the steep, heavily wooded incline of the hill.

  He stopped the Charger in front of a large, two car garage and beside the garage was an open space and on top of all of this were three stories with a large-ish deck jutting out over the open space. The open space was big enough to park another car or, maybe, snow mobiles or ATVs. There was a set of wooden steps with open slats inside the space, these positioned beside the garage.

  I released my seatbelt and leaned forward, tipping my head back to look at the tall building, seeing the wraparound deck and noting that, if that wrapped around the front, it would have a spectacular view to Carnal and the hills and mountains beyond.

  “So,” I said to the windshield as I heard Ty’s door open but he hadn’t yet angled out, “are we here to pick up your keys?”

  “Come again?”

  I tore my eyes from the house to look at him. “Are we here to pick up the keys to your condo?”

  “This is my condo,” he replied and I blinked as surprise flooded through me, surprise mingled liberally with excitement as he went on. “Maggie’s left the keys so we can get in.”

  “This isn’t your condo,” I told him stupidly and he stared at me a second.

  Then he said, “It is.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  “Lexie, it is.”

  “It can’t be. This isn’t even a condo,” I informed him.

  “It is,” he replied.

  “No, it isn’t. It’s a house.”

  “Woman, it’s a condo.”

  “It is not,” I argued.

  “It is in Colorado,” he replied.

  At this news, the surprise shifted out, the excitement took over and my happy gaze slid back to look up at the condo.

  Then I whispered, “Wow.”

  To this he muttered, “Goof,” and exited the car.

  I followed him, still looking up at the house and thinking this did it.

  I knew.

  The last couple of days I’d given a lot of headspace trying to determine if the signs I was reading were correct. That in a crazy, wild way life had finally led me somewhere sweet. It had led me to a beautiful man who had his issues but then again, everyone did. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be generous, gentle, thoughtful and, yes, I discovered, also funny. He was great at teasing, he found my buttons and enjoyed pushing them but in a way that wasn’t nasty but intimate and increasingly familiar. When I talked, he listened. He didn’t pretend to, he just did. No matter what I was blabbing about, he found it interesting and I knew that to be true. I didn’t know how I knew, I just knew. He was patient. He was gentle. He was calling me “babe” and “baby” more often but, even so, he still didn’t do it like other men, throwaway. These words had meaning to him, I sensed I’d become these to him or he wouldn’t have called me those names. I was his babe, his baby and those were things I wanted to be. He was also using his soft voice with me more often, sometimes for reasons I didn’t know him enough yet to understand, whatever mood he was in making him do it, som
etimes he used it when he was teasing me. It didn’t matter. I liked it. He still didn’t give much away but I had a feeling all this stuff was giving something away. Giving something to me. Something big, something important, something good and clean and right. Something I liked having and wanted more of.

  And now there I was in a Colorado condo development outside a small, quiet, settled town surrounded by beauty and my place of residence was going to be a kickass crib, three stories of house with spectacular views.

  He’d gone to the trunk and swung his duffle over his shoulder and nabbed my bag. I carried the bags with the snacks in them, thinking I’d clean out the car later, after a tour of his house. I negotiated the gravel under my feet with some difficulty in my high-heeled wedges and found him around the side, bent to a border of rocks that edged some attractive, clipped shrubs. He flipped it over, did something to it with his thumb then opened it.

  Fake rock where Maggie hid the key.

  He put the rock back, grabbed my bag he’d set beside him and headed to the stairs.

  I followed him.

  We hit deck and I peered around the narrow wooden walkway at the side of the house seeing I was right. The one story elevation gave views over the tops of the trees to the town and the vista beyond and the walkway led to a wider deck at the front of the house.

  Awesome.

  I went to stand behind him at some wood-framed glass double doors the opposite of which I could see some wide, vertical blinds which were closed. Ty unlocked the door, pushed it in and shoved aside the blinds, entering and I pushed in close behind him.

  The minute one foot hit floor over the threshold I heard a cacophony of cries including, “Welcome home!”, “Surprise!” and “Congratulations!”