Paint It Black

by Michelle Perry

  “Are you okay?” Cougar asked, and I forced my attention to him while they dragged Barnes away.

  My heart leapt when I noticed Cougar was clutching his arm. Blood painted his fingers. “What happened?” I gasped. “Were you shot?”

  “It grazed me. No big deal.” He took a deep breath. “When you started up that hill, I thought the driver was going to shoot you in the back. I didn’t have an angle on him, but I saw him crouched behind the back bumper, watching you. I don’t know why he didn’t shoot you. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.”

  He surprised me by pulling me into his arms and hugging me tight. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you and Angel both.”

  I pulled back and touched his face. “It’s over. We got him. And Hardhead’s going to be all right, too. You won’t lose either of us.”

  Cougar laughed and lifted an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Wait till Grady sees his Porsche.”

  I groaned. “I’m dead meat, huh?”

  He knelt to scrub his bloody fingers with a handful of snow. “Just keep looking all cute and pitiful,” he advised.

  I smiled, despite the sense of impending doom I felt. But Grady wasn’t the one I was worried about—not yet, anyway. Would Barnes tell everyone about us?

  When I’d first started work with the DEA, I’d made Grady ask one of his law school professors about the legal ramifications of my working Barnes’s case. He’d said that since Barnes and I’d had virtually no contact in my entire life, our connection should neither endanger the investigation nor get me fired. But that was little consolation, because I knew if the truth came out—when it came out—my career would be ruined. My team would never trust me again.

  I could pretend I didn’t know—his name wasn’t even on my birth certificate—but lying was Barnes’s thing, not mine. If the truth came out, it came out. I had no control over it now, but that knowledge didn’t ease the worry twisting my stomach. I already felt awful about keeping it from my teammates, but what choice did I have? If I’d admitted who I was, they wouldn’t have let me near the case, and I’d wanted—I’d needed—to be a part of bringing Barnes down.

  “It’ll be all right,” Cougar said gently.

  Confused, I watched him stand and brush his hands on his pant legs. Then it dawned on me he was still talking about the car.

  He grinned, pinched my cheek, and cooed, “Now who could stay mad at a sad widdle face like this?”

  “Jerk,” I muttered, and aimed a halfhearted kick at his behind. He dodged it, then veered toward me and slung his good arm around my shoulders. He kept it there while we trudged back to the road. I wondered if all men from Texas were like him, always touching, always teasing. Although it had unnerved me at first, I was getting used to it.

  We reached the highway just in time to see the wrecker pull away with Grady’s Porsche. I groaned again, and Cougar laughed.

  Ubi offered us a ride to the police station. The three of us wedged in the cab of his little Toyota pickup like sardines. I was going to have a bruise on the inside of my knee where he shifted gears and he had the heater on full blast. I felt a little queasy with the hot air battering my face, and Ubi’s jerky “speed up and brake” driving wasn’t helping things any.

  “Hey, can we stop by my apartment on the way?” Cougar asked, and I stifled a groan.

  While he ran inside, my mind kept flashing to what Barnes had said. My mother had told me he’d left when she was pregnant and never looked back. Why would he lie about that now? Did he think I’d feel sorry for him? Surely he hadn’t expected me to let him go.

  Cougar reappeared ten minutes later, stuffing something into his jacket pocket, and we lurched on our way.

  Pandemonium reigned outside the police station. Cougar shoved a path through the throng of reporters, and Ubi and I followed in his wake.

  Bill stood in the doorway of a glassed-in office like a kid watching his parents fight, not wanting to go in but unable to look away. He glanced at us as we crowded around him, then turned his attention back to the three men inside. The precinct captain faced down Barnes and a red-faced man in a gray suit who I assumed was Barnes’s lawyer. I saw enough lawyers on a daily basis that I could pretty well pick them out of a crowd.

  “What do you mean, you’re holding him for attempted murder?” the lawyer sputtered. “Attempted murder of whom? The agents who arrested him were in an unmarked car. My client didn’t know they were DEA. He was only trying to defend himself.”

  The captain shifted the toothpick in his mouth. “We’re arresting him for the attempted murder of Agent John Angelino, who was shot on Mr. Barnes’s premises this morning.”

  Barnes’s hands were still cuffed behind him, and I noticed him popping his fingers one by one with his thumb. The simple movement chilled me, because it was a habit I shared. I’d done it all my life, much to my mother’s—and later Grady’s—annoyance.

  Barnes leaned to whisper something to his lawyer, then rocked back on his heels. He rolled his neck and seemed to notice me for the first time. For an instant our eyes met, and my telltale heart threatened to beat out of my chest in the sudden terror that everyone else would see what I was only now seeing myself. We looked alike. We really did. I’d stared at his pictures a million times, but I’d never noticed it before.

  The fat lawyer braced his hands on the edge of the desk. “My client wasn’t even home this morning. You say the victim is in a coma. What evidence could you possibly have to connect Mr. Barnes to the shooting?”

  The captain nodded at Bill, who took a hesitant step inside and gestured at us. “Angelino was conscious when they found him. They heard him say—”

  “I’ve got better than that,” Cougar interrupted. He fished a tiny cassette from his pocket and handed it to Bill. “This is Angel’s statement. I took it on the way to the hospital, and it was witnessed by two ambulance attendants.”

  Fear sparked in Barnes’s eyes.

  Good, I thought.

  The captain punched a button on his phone. “Marty, find me something to play one of those little tapes on.”

  Bill fingered the tape, his brows furrowed. “How?” he asked. “We were on a raid. I know you didn’t have a recorder with you.”

  Cougar tugged his earlobe and gave a bitter smile. “I was afraid … I don’t know … I was afraid Angel’s luck wouldn’t hold out. That maybe he wouldn’t remember later. And I wanted to catch him fresh, so I borrowed the EMT’s cell phone, called my answering machine, and got him to give his statement into it. We had to call it three times, because it kept cutting us off, but it worked.”

  Awed, I shook my head. “Cougar, that was brilliant.”

  I glimpsed the pain in his eyes before he looked away. “I wish it was unnecessary. That Angel could speak for himself.” He glared at Barnes. “You smug bastard. If he dies, you’ll wish you’d used that bullet on yourself.”

  “Captain!” the lawyer barked. “I won’t allow my client to be threatened.”

  The captain sighed. “Bill, please control your agent.”

  Bill opened his mouth, and Cougar held up his hands. “Okay,” he said, and walked toward the window.

  “Excuse me,” a redheaded deputy mumbled, and I twisted to let him by. He handed a small tape player to his boss and retreated.

  In a moment, Cougar’s breezy recorded voice filled the room. “This is Jason. You know what to do.” Along beep followed, then a different version of his voice, this one tight and stilted, announced the time and date. “Please state your name and badge number for the record.”

  “John Angelino, Special Agent. Badge number BA7803655.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Um, the back of an ambulance.”

  “What are your injuries?”

  “I’ve, uh, been shot.”

  “Jason Stratton, Special Agent. Badge number AS0514198. I, along with Special Agent Denise Bramhall, found Agent Angelino in the forest behind Frank Barnes’s house as
we conducted an early morning raid. He was tied to a tree and unconscious from a small caliber shot to his forehead. Do you remember what occurred just prior to our finding you?”

  Angel’s voice cracked. “I, um … I was working undercover in a sting to net Frank Barnes. I’m not sure what happened exactly. I met him at his house for dinner Wednesday night. We had some mahimahi, and I guess it was drugged, because next thing I knew, I was sitting in the snow. I was messed up, couldn’t talk, couldn’t move. Barnes stood over me. He said, ‘Whatever the DEA paid you, son, it wasn’t enough.’ Then he pointed a gun at me and pulled the trigger. I sort of remember my head snapping back, but I didn’t feel anything yet. I guess I passed out, because the next thing I remember is you and Necie showing up.”

  Cougar led him through another series of questions that I realized were meant to show cognizance. Cougar’s voice sounded dull and heavy, perhaps toneless to a stranger, but it was stark to the ears of someone who knew him. My admiration for him swelled when I realized how smart he’d been, and how much strength it must’ve taken. He’d all but wrapped Barnes up with a bow and hand delivered him to the DA.

  A deputy led Barnes away to be fingerprinted. He gave me a searching look when he passed, but I turned my head. We briefed the captain and talked among ourselves for a moment.

  Finally, I spotted an empty desk and sat behind it to write out my report.

  I was nearly done fifteen minutes later when the squad room door burst open and a disheveled, wild-eyed Grady barreled inside.

  “Necie!” he cried, and I think every cop in the building reached for his piece.

  “It’s okay,” I said, jumping up to intercept him. Grabbing his arm, I dragged Grady to a corner. I dreaded the scene to come, but saw no way to avoid it. I didn’t want my co-workers to see us fight.

  “I called the office when I woke up and found you gone,” he said. “They told me you were here. Something about a wreck, so I called a cab—”

  Taking his hands, I launched into a feverish explanation. “Grady, let me tell you what happened. My defroster was broken, so I took your car. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the damages—”

  “Necie—”

  “We got Barnes, but his driver rammed the Porsche when we were chasing them. I think—”

  “Necie!” he said, louder.

  Heads turned in our direction and Grady flushed. He ran a hand through his rumpled blond hair, then surprised me by taking my face in his hands. In a hushed voice, he said, “Baby, I don’t care about the car. I care about you. Are you okay?”

  The concern in his eyes was so unexpected … for a moment, I simply gaped at him, my explanation dying on my lips. Then I smiled.

  It was Grady’s turn to look startled. He grinned and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “It’s been a long time since you smiled at me like that,” he said softly. “It still makes my heart go crazy.”

  Who are you, and what have you done with my husband? I thought, but I remembered this guy. He was the frat boy I’d fallen in love with. I thought he was gone for good, but he was still there, hidden somewhere deep inside the lawyer I barely knew.

  I found myself thinking of the night we’d met. I was working as a waitress in a little off-campus dive when he’d strolled in one night wearing a white T-shirt that read “Sotally Tober” and an easy grin. He’d asked me out that night, and probably the next forty nights straight, ignoring my insistence that I didn’t date frat boys. Actually, I didn’t date anybody. Didn’t have time. But nothing I said fazed him. He’d come in, take a table in my section, then make me laugh by ordering some crazy drink, like Screaming Chocolate Monkeys, Alien Urine, and memorably, Passed Out Naked on the Bathroom Floor. We’d laugh again when I had to call it out to the bartender. Things got to the point where Grady would hang out until closing and then help clean the place up. He even tutored me in chemistry when business was slow.

  Finally, I accepted his invitation. We went to the movies, which turned out to be a big mistake. Between work and school, I was averaging around four hours of sleep a night. I fell asleep on his arm almost as soon as the lights went down. Bless his heart, he didn’t move during the next two hours, though his arm must’ve been killing him. I woke during the big action scene and was mortified, but he simply kissed my forehead and told me how beautiful I looked sleeping.

  “What?” Grady asked again, his smile widening. “Now you’re just making me nervous.”

  “I was thinking of our first date.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my face against his chest. I could still smell the Scotch on him, but I let it go. He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I acted like a jerk tonight. It scared me when I woke up and you weren’t there. I don’t know what I’d do if you left me for good.” He squeezed me, then pulled back to look at my face. “So, you got him? You really got him?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced across the room at Cougar, who watched us while he talked on his cell phone. Our eyes met and he looked away. “We got him.”

  “Are you okay?” Grady asked.

  I nodded and smiled up at him. “I am now.”

  “Hey, you know Mom’s got Abby all night. You want to go out or anything? We could see a movie that’s not rated G.”

  I laughed. “I’d probably crash on you for sure tonight.”

  “That’d be okay.” Grady winked. “I still like to watch you sleep.”

  Winding my fingers in his, I said, “I’ve got a better idea. It involves you, me … the hot tub. What do you think?”

  He grinned. “I think I’m glad I told that taxi driver to wait.”

  Grady surprised me by brushing a kiss on my lips. While I was still recovering from that, I felt a blast of cold air when the front door crashed open.

  “Where is he?” a woman’s voice demanded. “What have you done with my father?”

  I think I realized who she was before I even turned around. With my breath caught in my throat, I twisted to stare at the exotic brunette in the black fur coat.

  My half sister.

  When the young cop at the door merely gawked at her, she shoved past him and stalked to the front desk. Slapping her hands on the wooden surface, she leaned forward until she was nearly nose to nose with the startled man behind it. “Frank Barnes!” she said. “Where is he?”

  The phone hung slack in the sergeant’s hands and he, too, could only stare. The whole room seemed to freeze in her wake. She snapped her fingers in his face. “You speak English? Anybody?”

  Jerking her chin around, she scanned the room. Time seemed to stop when our gazes met. Her eyes narrowed, and her lovely face flushed.

  Though we’d never met, never spoken, I knew what she was. She was an apocalyptic blend of our father and the crazed Latina junkie he’d left my mother for. All the snitches gave the same report: Since her teenage years, Maria had been primed to run the family business, and she was far deadlier than her father. It chilled me to the bone to think we were related.

  She apparently knew who I was, too. The malevolence in her stare struck me like a physical blow, and involuntarily, my grip tightened on Grady’s fingers.

  “Where is he?” she repeated, her dark eyes glittering.

  My stomach sank.

  This is it. It’s all over.

  Cougar’s deep voice shattered the silence. “He’s in a cell, where he belongs. I hope he rots there.”

  Maria’s head snapped around, and I felt almost limp when she released me from her glare. The string of obscenities she directed at Cougar seemed doubly damning and shocking, spewing from such a beautiful creature.

  Cougar merely smiled and cracked his gum.

  “C’mon,” Grady whispered, grasping my forearm. “Let’s go.”

  Numbly, I nodded, but I was terrified Maria would hurl my secrets at my retreating back.

  We slipped outside, leaving Maria and Cougar arguing. Grady slung his arm around my shoulder. Gratefully, I leaned into him
, looping my arm around his waist. He felt warm and solid, and I clung to him a little tighter than normal.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, and we ducked to protect our faces from the buffeting wind.

  “Yeah.” I felt a rush of tenderness for him then, something I hadn’t experienced in a while. When he opened the cab door, I said, “Hey, Grady. I’ve got some vacation time coming. Maybe we could—”

  “Necie, hold up!”

  Grady’s smile faded when my supervisor jogged over to us.

  “Glad I caught you!” Bill’s breath came in bright, white puffs. “Hiya, Grady.”

  “Hey,” Grady muttered.

  “I left my statement with Cougar,” I said quickly, hoping to get out of there and salvage Grady’s good mood.

  “There’s something else. Can I talk to you for a sec?” Bill nodded toward the building. “Inside?”

  “Um, sure,” I said, and ignored Grady’s sigh. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Meter’s running,” he said tersely.

  “I know. I’ll hurry.”

  Grady nodded and yanked open the cab door. I sprinted toward the building.

  Inside the double doors, Bill said, “Hey, you want a trip this weekend? I’ve got a Jersey job, one of those undercover details you like.”

  I glanced outside. A stony-faced Grady stared back at me through the cab window. “Ah, can you get someone else for this one, Bill?”

  Bill’s eyebrows shot up. “Sure. Just wanted to give you first dibs. That was good work tonight.”

  He gave me a quick clap on the shoulder, which was about as touchy-feely as it got with Bill. I kissed his cheek, thinking of how this man had been more of a father to me than Frank Barnes ever could be. He’d taken me under his wing from day one and always seemed to be looking out for me. I had another pang when I thought about Barnes and what he could do to my career and friendships. If he wanted to, he could make me lose everything.

  Bill waved good-bye and walked down the hall. I turned and nearly smacked into Maria Barnes when she exited the restroom. She swiped her reddened eyes with a tissue and gave me a bitter smile. “One day soon, I want you to look back to this night and realize you started this.”