When he had her gaze again, he reminded her, “We got busy and you didn’t get your take last night. Lotta shit goin’ down and I’m skippin’ my workout tonight to come straight home and take you to the Dodge dealership outside Gnaw Bone before we gotta be home to get ready to take Julius and Anana to The Rooster.”
He brows drew together. “The Dodge –?”
“Gettin’ you another Charger.”
Light dawned then right on its heels denial started. “Ty –”
He shook his head and his fingers in her hair fisted and tugged gently. “Gettin’ you another Charger.”
“But… I don’t… you can’t…” she paused then finished, “the money.”
“The angle Tate’s workin’ doesn’t cost a fuckload of cash to grease the palms of scumbags who won’t do something for nothing. You need a car that I can trust, the Snake would do in the summer, a Charger’s better for the winter. You loved that car. What I did meant you lost it. I got the cash, you’re gettin’ another one.” He paused then finished, “Tonight.”
“But –”
He cut her off. “And, this weekend, fuck me, we’re goin’ shoppin’ for a coffee table.”
She blinked. Then tried again, “But –”
“And I gotta send more money to Ella to get your shit back.”
“My shit is at Dominic and Daniel’s. They have an old ranch house with a barn so they could store it for me. They were waiting for me to settle somewhere so they could send it to me.”
Well, thank fuck. One problem that wouldn’t cost a fucking fortune or take weeks.
“Good. I’ll talk to the boys, get your shit home.”
She grinned. Then she told him, “We don’t need a coffee table.”
“You said last night we do,” he reminded her.
She pressed closer. “Ty, honey,” she said softly, “I get what you’re trying to do but it’s going to be okay, I’m going to be okay. You don’t have to give me my every heart’s desire to prove to me you love me.”
“Mama, every other time I wanna turn on the fuckin’ TV, gotta first locate the remotes and this usually involves diggin’ them outta the cushions. That shit’s a pain in the ass. Last week, got up and kicked over a nearly full beer I put on the floor. That shit’s also a pain in the ass. We need a fuckin’ coffee table.”
She giggled, he heard it, saw it, felt it and liked it.
Then she said, “All right, baby, we’ll buy a coffee table.” Pause then, “And a rug.”
Pushing it.
Whatever.
“And a rug,” he agreed.
She smiled at him.
He brought them back to the matter at hand. “So, what I was sayin’, we gotta get you your ride, we gotta take Julius and Anana out so we can pay them back for causin’ you fear, heartbreak and the need to make a mad dash across the United States in order to watch me die but you also gotta be briefed. I don’t know what you got planned today but I want you in town, at the garage, twelve thirty, we’ll go to lunch at the diner and I’ll fill you in.”
“I’m going to be unpacking, cleaning the house and finding out if Dominic replaced me,” she informed him then smiled again. “So lunch with my husband fits right in.”
His arm gave her another squeeze and he smiled back.
Then she asked, “Did Dominic replace me? He hadn’t when I talked to him a couple of weeks ago but –”
“Mama, I’m not hip on the goings-on at the local salon. Think, to be a Steel Magnolia, you gotta have a pussy.”
After he said that, his wife burst out laughing, so hard, she couldn’t hold her head up, she dropped it to his chest, her hands clenched in fists in his tee and her shoulders shook with it. And as he listened to and felt her humor, he wondered why he didn’t give her more of it.
He had to make up for that too.
Then her head shot back and, still laughing, she informed him, “I’m not sure there’s an official Steel Magnolia’s rulebook but I think you’re right, that particular requirement goes without saying.”
He grinned at her.
Then he changed the subject to another important one he had to touch on before he went to work and as he did it, his fist slid out of her hair and his arm moved down to wrap around her shoulders.
“All right, Lex, you got a busy schedule but take some time, call Bess and talk to her about drivin’ out here. She wants to put Dallas in her past; we got an extra room while she gives Colorado a try.”
The laughter fled her face but warmth suffused it, her body, already pressed close, melted into his and she whispered, “Ty.”
“But, she takes that room, she sleeps with the fuckin’ door closed.”
The warmth stayed in her expression but her eyes lit with more humor as she said quietly, “All right, honey, I’ll make that clear.”
He grinned at his wife. Then he muttered, “Gotta get to work, baby.”
She nodded. He dropped his forehead to touch it to hers, dipped his chin so he could brush his mouth to hers then he let her go, walked around her, nabbed his travel mug and slid the backs of his fingers along her hip as he moved back by her, saying, “Later, mama.”
He felt her eyes on him as he walked through the kitchen to the stairs and heard her saying, “Later, honey.”
And having that back, all of it, from waking up with his wife to fucking her in the shower to being with her in the kitchen to feeling her eyes on him while he walked to the stairs to hearing her soft, sweet, “Later…” he knew he missed it when it was gone but it being back he knew he actually missed it.
But it was back and as he moved down the stairs, he prayed to God that this time he kept his shit together and took care of it.
* * * * *
Two and a half hours later, Ty was under the hood of a car when his phone rang, he swung out, straightened, nabbed a rag, used it to do a half-assed swipe to get the grease off his hands, pulled his phone out of his back pocket and saw a number he didn’t recognize but an area code he did.
Dallas.
He flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Yo.”
“Ty,” he heard a man say.
“Yeah?”
“Angel.”
Fuck him.
Peña.
“Peña,” he greeted.
“Just so you know, Duane Martinez came in two days ago to make a belated report that he was assaulted by one Tyrell Walker.”
Fuck.
“You’re shittin’ me,” Ty rumbled.
“No, a fuckin’ drug dealer pimp walks into the fuckin’ Police Station lookin’ like the weasel he is but a healthy one and he does it to report a fuckin’ assault.”
Then Ty heard a deep chuckle.
Ty was not amused.
Peña kept talking. “Seein’ as I got an interest in Martinez and all his dirty deeds, he was flagged and sent to me. So, he made this report to me. Now, make no mistake, Ty, I take my work seriously but I gotta admit, he gave this report, I lost my pen. Swear to God, don’t know where I put that fucker.”
And at that, Ty was amused. Therefore he dropped his head and grinned at his boots.
“Sucks, man,” he murmured into his phone.
“I know. Don’t worry, I found it since. I also called up to Carnal and found out you were down with the twenty-four hour flu so no way you could be violatin’ parole, drivin’ your ass into the Lone Star State to deliver a message with your fists. Got a statement from a Tatum Jackson confirming the state of your health and Jackson would know because his wife brought you chicken soup. Heard that did that trick and was glad to hear it, esé.”
Ty lifted his head and looked out of one of the bays, still grinning. “It was a quick recovery.”
“Good news,” Peña muttered then went on. “So, I’ve reported this to Mr. Martinez, asking him if he wants to amend his statement. To say he was shocked as shit would be an understatement. He had neglected to include the information that there was a man with you that apparent
ly you referred to as ‘Tate’ but he included this information when I spoke to him again. I asked if Mr. Jackson’s wife was also in attendance during his recent ass-kicking, considering she stands as both your and Mr. Jackson’s alibi, but he said no. I then reminded him that it was an unlawful act to make false statements to the police, that he had no evidence of said ass-kicking as he, nor his esteemed colleagues who also got their asses kicked, had any medical attention where there were actually records made. And last, the only three witnesses were the three who allegedly got their asses kicked and I explained, since their three rap sheets could be used as a set of encyclopedias detailing the wide array of crimes available to commit, not one of them was a reliable witness and I further informed them that the man they were accusing of being accessory to a crime was an ex-cop and current highly-respected fugitive apprehension agent, something else that I could tell shocked the shit outta him. I then reminded Mr. Martinez that it is ‘hood lore that a Tyrell Walker wiped his ass at poker some years back and Mr. Martinez was not exactly quiet when he crowed about Mr. Walker being sent down for manslaughter seein’ as he still owed him a whack. I suggested that perhaps he was using the police force to extricate him from this debt and that such an endeavor would be frowned upon. He saw the wisdom of retracting his statement which was lucky for me because I had no record of it and my Cap is not big on that shit.”
Jesus, Shift wasn’t only a piece of shit motherfucker; he was also seriously fucking stupid.
And Ty was still grinning when he noted, “What you’re sayin’ is I owe you.”
“No,” Peña’s voice got low, “what I’m sayin’ is, don’t know what shit brought Lexie back Dallas way, but thank you for provin’ me not wrong you give a fuck about your wife. Martinez spread wide he was recruitin’ Rodriguez’s pussy for his stable and was already takin’ orders. You took care a’ that so I didn’t have to. And also what I’m sayin’ is, the message you sent was not received. He may leave Lexie alone but he is one pissed off black man and that rage is directed at you. You got some experience, I bet, watchin’ your back. Use it and stay diligent.”
Ty’s grin died and he muttered, “Fuck, what I do not need is another fuckin’ problem.”
“Well, now you’re makin’ me feel like Santa Claus,” Peña replied and Ty turned and walked deeper into the garage.
Then he asked, “You gonna share?”
“Well, I wasn’t seein’ as I want your nose clean with all that I’m doin’ though I may be in Dallas but my karma must be in Carnal since I got a message for you this morning from one of your neighbors. First, I’ll tell you that, when I was up there, I walked into the Carnal Police Department and flashed my badge. The officer on duty at the desk, not a very bright bulb, took one look at it, opened the doors wide and gave me his code to the copy machine. Considering those fuckwads have been gettin’ away with murder, literally, I figured they all couldn’t be as dumb as the man they got guardin’ the door so I also figured I didn’t have much time. But I did use my time at the copy machine wisely before someone cottoned onto my activities and I was cordially and collegially ousted. I will not share with you what I found. I will also not share with you what some of Carnal’s citizens I spoke with in a variety of establishments readily shared with me. What I will share with you is that, after spending some time since leaving the beautiful state of Colorado acting on some of the things I learned during my vacation, my activities have been noted. And this morning, an Officer Frank Dolinski phoned me wanting to have a cop to cop chat. Now, Officer Dolinski told me that he heard word some time ago that you were being paroled and, seeing as he’s either one smart motherfucker or clairvoyant, he knew your release could mean good or bad things but, good or bad, he told me you got a lotta friends in that ‘burg, all of ‘em been nursin’ not a small amount of antagonism for over five years, so it was gonna mean something. Further, Officer Dolinski’s father was a cop as was his grandfather and he actually likes his job, wanted to follow the family tradition since he could remember and earned his badge to protect and serve and not doin’ both to cover his own ass. So, he’s been payin’ a lot of attention and when I say that I mean a lot and when I say a lot I mean for a fuckin’ long time.”
Ty was listening, his gut tight and his chest squeezing and when Peña didn’t continue, he prompted, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Peña replied. “So, Dolinski set the ball rolling prior to your release but shit like this goes slow and you were out before things could get sorted.”
“What shit goes slow and what things are gettin’ sorted?” Ty asked.
“Dolinski’s deep cover mission for an internal investigation into pretty much the entirety of the Carnal Police Department with specific interest in Police Chief Arnold Fuller,” Peña answered.
Ty’s body went solid.
Holy fuck.
Peña continued. “This investigation centers around a variety of things including Fuller’s mishandling of a case when a serial killer was hunting his patch after which a complaint was lodged by a Special Agent Tambo of the FBI not only about Fuller’s department fumbling the case but also Fuller’s manner and professional approach, questioning his suitability to be in his job. Tambo’s complaint was added to complaints from Carnal’s citizen that were piling up and IA started sniffing around but could get nowhere seein’ as tracks were covered and nearly every cop in the department was dirty so they needed an inside man and, mud’s so deep at Carnal PD, they couldn’t see clear of it and find one. Dolinski’s coming forward as a whistleblower and willing undercover agent set the ball in motion for an intense investigation into the entire Department but centering on the aforementioned fuck up with the serial killer as well as the possible corroboration of local law enforcement officers in the cover up of the murder of a drug dealer in Los Angeles and the extradition of a Carnal citizen to stand trial for that crime. IA in LA, who are working joint with your local IA on that particular concern, apparently has some information that the dealer murdered was allegedly dealing blow to one Detective Gene Fuller, who happens to be Police Chief Arnie Fuller’s brother, and ole Gene reportedly likes his blow, enough to get in deep with a dealer and, on a cop’s salary, the only way to cover that debt was for the dealer to go away.”
Holy fuck.
Peña kept talking. “As you know, two dealers dead in California by the same gun, a .38 but what you don’t know is that Detective Chet Palmer has a .38 registered for personal use. But, when questions were asked, Detective Palmer was requested to produce this gun and couldn’t do so saying, when he went to get it, he noticed it was missing and, belatedly, reported it stolen and says that it’s been years since he’s touched that gun so it could have been years ago it was stolen. Two and two began to make four and the person making four in Carnal for IA is Officer Frank Dolinski.”
Holy fuck.
Peña wasn’t done. “See, the problem Dolinski has now is that there is a very clever Carnal ex-cop whose friend went down for a crime he didn’t commit and, if you don’t mind me sayin’, a very clever current cop in Dallas who’s got an interest in that man’s wife who are both nosin’ around. Makin’ matters worse, for some reason I’m sure you know nothin’ about, although some time has gone by, Special Agent Tambo and his superiors have suddenly started asking questions about the complaint Tambo lodged and they haven’t been real thrilled with the answers they’ve been receivin’ but instead of shruggin’ their shoulders and movin’ on, they’ve decided to start leaning and they got a lot of weight. All this and Dolinski’s already got his ass swinging way the fuck out there. It is not lost on all concerned that two black men in two states framed for murders they didn’t commit, one taking his life, one losing five years of his, if uncovered, will make national news. Dolinski says because of this things are in-tense at the Carnal Police Station and he wants me to be aware that if these outside factions keep up their activities, some twitchy people may get seriously fuckin’ twitchy and Officer Dolinski says he’s this close
to askin’ his girl to take his hand in marriage and he’d actually like to get the chance to ask her not to mention marry her and make a family with her and not get his head blown off and some random black guy who’s unlucky enough to look at one of these assholes funny servin’ time for that crime.”
Ty was silent and he was silenced by surprise.
Then he asked, “You backin’ off?”
To that, Peña was also silent for long moments before he said quietly, “Been chewin’ on that.” He paused then continued, “And, see, I wanna help Officer Dolinski out. Only got a very long phone call to get to know this guy but I got the feelin’ he’s a good man. Know, doin’ what he’s doin’, he’s a moral man and a brave one. Problem is, he shared with me that someone got the idea that all this started with you gettin’ out, it was all quiet before you came home so they felt the best course of action was to make a statement and get you back in. And seein’ as you weren’t helpin’ with that, not barrelin’ into Carnal, guns ablaze, metin’ out retribution, but instead enjoying your newlywed status, they felt it was necessary to draw you out. And they felt the best way to do that was to fuck with your wife. So, Officer Dolinski told me they put that plan into action and he promised me he’d do what he could for Lexie but I’m not feelin’ good about that promise or how long it’ll take for this shit to get done and if shit’s so buried that wrongs will never be righted. I’m not big on wrongs not bein’ righted, wrongs bein’ righted are kinda why I got in the cop business in the first fuckin’ place, so I still feel I gotta do what I can do to make that happen.”
Ty made no response.
So Peña asked, “You gonna talk to Mr. Jackson?”
To that, Ty answered, “Yeah, but we’re not backin’ down either. Frank’s a good man and I feel for him. He’s already taken Lexie’s back. The thing is, I don’t wanna go back in and Lexie and I wanna start a family and I want my kids to have a father who doesn’t have that kinda shadow hangin’ over his head. The mission is to stay free and clear my name and I trust Frank but one man against many isn’t gonna do shit. I cannot say I’m not smilin’ inside that these guys are feelin’ the heat enough to get twitchy so not sure I wanna turn down that heat. We’ll do what we can to have Frank’s back but it’s not only his future that’s ridin’ on this.”
Lady Luck Page 37