Power

by Debra Webb

  “You won’t be around to see, so what do you care?” he taunted. To DeShawn, he growled, “Bring her to Nina now.”

  Munoz backed up for DeShawn and Jess to walk past him.

  DeShawn led her through the room where she had been held and into the well-lit kitchen. Four other men and Nina were draped on counters and relaxed in chairs. Looked as if the tequila was doing its job.

  Too bad Munoz was still as sober as a judge. He was no doubt the only reason this ragtag crew had gotten this far.

  The music stopped abruptly. The silence was deafening after the hours of booming and thumping. The kitchen was longer and wider than the room where Jess had been restrained. There were numerous windows besides the one over the sink. None were covered, which struck her as odd. Either the tequila had stolen their inhibitions or the whole lot was just more stupid than she had thought.

  Unless they were in the middle of nowhere, which Jess doubted, and Nina was supremely confident that her brother wouldn’t find them, she was definitely not the brightest bulb in the light show.

  Nina jumped off the counter and slinked over to where Jess and DeShawn stood. Unlike Munoz, she was as drunk as a skunk.

  “What’s going on, Shawney?” She curled up against him. “You weren’t being a bad boy, were you?” Her words were slurred.

  “We need to let her go,” he said. “What we’re doing is wrong.”

  Nina held out her hand to the man closest to her. He placed a black semiautomatic handgun in her palm. She waved it at Jess, then at DeShawn. “I give the orders around here.” She twirled around, giving them her back. “You see that tattoo, cop lady?”

  Jess spotted the butterfly on her shoulder.

  “You see it?” Nina screamed.

  “I see it,” Jess answered. “It’s a nice pink-and-blue butterfly.”

  “My mother stole me away from my father”—Nina turned around once more—“when I was just a baby. She hid me from him for sixteen years. When I was thirteen, she had the butterfly with the number thirteen in its wings inked on my shoulder to show I had escaped the life.” She laughed, swayed some more. “But she didn’t understand. The life is in my genes. My father is Leonardo Lopez. This”—she waved her arms wide—“is my destiny.”

  “What about your brother?” Jess countered. “Isn’t the life in his genes, too?”

  Everyone in the room laughed. One by one Nina shot them a fierce glare. “He doesn’t understand that it’s my turn now. I’m”—she poked herself in the chest—“the new jefa of this clique. Since he refused to move over, he has to die.” She smiled at Jess. “And you and Shawney are going to help me make that happen.”

  “Stop it, Nina,” DeShawn demanded. “You’re talking crazy talk.”

  “Get on your knees,” she said to Jess.

  “You should listen to him, Nina,” Jess suggested. “He’s the only real friend you have.”

  Munoz shoved Jess downward, onto her knees.

  Nina pointed the weapon at Jess, who held her breath and tried not to shake, but the quaking had started deep inside her. She really wished she had peed when she had the chance. It was so embarrassing when victims lost control at a time like this. It would be her luck that smart-mouthed Dr. Schrader would be the one called to the scene. That would really suck.

  “No.” DeShawn stepped in front of Jess. “I won’t let you do this. Maybe you ain’t got the sense to see what’s going down, but I do. These people are using you to overthrow your brother. They’ll do the same thing to you.”

  As much as Jess didn’t want her brains scattered all over this beat-up linoleum floor, she wished the kid would get out of the way before he got himself killed.

  “He’s right, Nina. Your pal Munoz there is double-crossing you.” Jess had no idea if that was true or not but the suggestion might buy her some time.

  “What’s she talking about?” Nina demanded of the man now standing next to her.

  “She’s fucking with your head, Nina. Just shoot her and get it over with.”

  While they argued, with DeShawn right in the middle, Jess slipped the knife from beneath her jacket and hid it in her right hand with the blade resting against the back of her wrist.

  DeShawn got in Munoz’s face. “Why should she listen to you? She’s my girlfriend.”

  Munoz grabbed him by the throat and forced him to his knees next to Jess. “But she’s my woman,” he snarled. “She listens to me.”

  Nina shot him in the head. The sound exploded in the room. Blood and brain matter spurted. Munoz collapsed to the floor in front of Jess and DeShawn.

  DeShawn screamed and scrambled away from the body as the crimson pool beneath Munoz’s head spread wider and wider.

  Jess knew better than to move. Luckily the floor wasn’t level, so the blood flowed in the other direction.

  “I don’t belong to no man,” Nina screamed at the dead man. “And I do what I want.”

  The other four in the room had backed away from her. Maybe they’d all make a run for it.

  “Put the gun down, Nina.”

  DeShawn was on his feet and trying to talk to her again. Damn it. Why didn’t he get the hell out of here? You couldn’t tell the younger generation a thing! Not even one who had been raised to respect his elders.

  Likewise, Nina wasn’t listening to DeShawn. She was staring at Jess. As if in slow motion, she trained the handgun on Jess’s face once more. Whether it was the alcohol or mental illness or just plain old evil, anticipation danced in her dark eyes. She was looking forward to this.

  “Good-bye, cop lady.”

  Jess flung herself to the left. The weapon fired. Hit the floor.

  More gunfire erupted. Glass shattered.

  Nina screamed. Her followers were yelling and running for cover.

  The gunfire was coming from outside. Not wide sweeps. Precise, tight shots.

  Cops.

  DeShawn was trying to get Nina to listen to him. Jess scrambled up on all fours and rammed into his legs. He went down.

  Nina hit the floor next, screaming in agony.

  DeShawn tried to move toward her. Jess held him still. “Don’t move until it’s clear.”

  “She’s hit,” he argued. “I need to help her.”

  “You can’t help her if you’re dead.” There were more gunshots outside.

  DeShawn relented and stayed on the floor with Jess.

  “Police! Put your weapons down and your hands up!”

  Doors were kicked inward. Bodies in full SWAT garb swarmed into the room.

  Nina was sobbing, but DeShawn made no move to comfort her now.

  He had learned a hard lesson.

  The best part was he’d lived through it.

  • • •

  Howard Johnson Inn, 5:30 a.m.

  “You don’t need to come in,” Jess assured him.

  Dan shut off the engine. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She didn’t want to argue. Too tired. Using the last of her strength, she dragged her bag from the floorboard and reached for the door handle, but Dan was already there with the door open.

  Before she could fathom his intent, he scooped her out of the seat and into his arms.

  “Dan!” she protested.

  “I’m not letting you walk across this parking lot in bare feet.”

  Her shoes hadn’t been found. Damn it. She had liked those ivory-colored pumps. Now she’d have to find something else to wear with this suit. Damn it.

  Right now, though, she just didn’t care. She relaxed in Dan’s arms and savored the smell of his skin. God, she loved the way he smelled.

  When they reached her door, she dug around in her bag until she found her key.

  In the room he settled her on the bed.

  “I’ll start you a bath.”

  “Thanks.” Too bad she didn’t have any wine. Wine would be good right now.

  The water started to run in the bathroom and the sound soothed her. She leaned into the comforter and closed her e
yes for just a second. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of how happy Mr. and Mrs. Simmons had been to see their grandson.

  Dan had promised them he would see to it that no charges were filed against DeShawn as long as he agreed to counseling.

  Jess was glad. DeShawn had made a mistake. He’d fallen in love with the wrong girl.

  Nina’s injury hadn’t been life threatening. Jess imagined that before she got out of prison she might wish it had been.

  God, she was so tired.

  She’d wrapped up two cases in one week.

  It wasn’t her usual closure rate but it was a good start.

  Next week would be better.

  27

  Sunday, August 1, 7:00 p.m.

  Jess should never have allowed Dan to talk her into this.

  Dan. She glanced at the man driving. When they were off duty and she wasn’t mad at him, using his first name was automatic. Instinct.

  Funny how those little habits just sort of crept up on a person.

  He’d been so sweet yesterday morning. She’d fallen asleep five minutes after they got to her place. He’d covered her up and settled in the chair in her room and gotten some shut-eye himself. He’d stayed with her all morning. Brought breakfast from the Waffle House down the street and run a fresh bath for her before leaving.

  He’d left without even a kiss.

  On some level she had appreciated his sensitivity but then… she’d wondered. Were he and Annette growing closer? Finally Jess had let it go and just decided to enjoy the weekend.

  “Did you and Wells see anything you liked today?”

  “She can’t make up her mind if she wants a condo or a house.” Jess pulled down the sun visor and checked her reflection in the lighted mirror for the third time. They were almost there.

  Maybe she should have bought something new to wear. But this old sleeveless A-line had two things going for it. The pale turquoise color was her favorite, and the cummerbund-like pleated waistline that flowed down into a form-hugging skirt hit just the right spot three inches above her knees. She’d had the thing at least ten years.

  She flipped up the visor. Why in the world had she agreed to have dinner with his parents?

  Didn’t matter. It was too late for second thoughts now.

  “What about you?” he prodded. “Nothing you toured struck your fancy?”

  Ten houses and six condos. She and Lori had spent the entire day with a Realtor who understood Jess could not live on the same street with her sister. That was simply impossible.

  She also could not live anywhere near Dan’s neighborhood. Or his parents’. Or Annette Denton’s.

  The price had to be as low as possible and well… that was it, she supposed. She had no other requirements.

  “They were all in my price range. My preferred neighborhoods. But nothing that made me want to make an offer that probably wouldn’t be accepted.” Most sellers hated when contingencies were added to an offer. But, in her case, there was no choice. Her ability to purchase hinged on selling the house in Stafford.

  “You’ll know it when you see it.” He slowed for the turn into his parents’ drive.

  Jess cringed. How would she get through the next two hours without doing or saying something she would regret? Really, it didn’t matter what she said or did. Katherine would make something of it.

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this.” Her pulse rate had escalated considerably since he put the Mercedes in park.

  “Because”—he turned to Jess and smiled patiently as the interior light faded—“the Chandlers are dear friends of my mother and she wants to show her gratitude to you for not giving up on finding the truth.”

  Jess exhaled a big breath, wishing the tension could be so easily expelled. “She could have gone the Hallmark route. I love those cute little cards.” God, she did not want to do this. Dan got out and walked around to her side of the vehicle. She considered making a run for it when he opened the door.

  “The deputy chief,” Dan said as he waited for her to unfasten her seat belt and climb out of the car, “who allegedly told Salvadore Lopez that she didn’t care whether she took him dead or alive is afraid of my little old mother? Come on now.”

  Jess unfastened the seat belt and did what she had to do. When she was on the ground and the door was closed, blocking her escape back into the vehicle, she eyed Daniel Burnett with blatant speculation. “Remind me to remind Harper that he isn’t allowed to talk out of school. And your mother is far scarier than any gangbanger I have ever encountered.”

  Dan laughed good-naturedly. “How is that possible, Jess?”

  She harrumphed as he guided her with his hand at the small of her back toward the front door. “That’s easy. With a gangbanger you know where you stand. He wants to kill you before you can kill him. With your mother”—she shot him a sideways glance—“you never know.”

  Dan senior greeted them at the door. Katherine waited in the formal living room with a bottle of wine already uncorked. Surprisingly, the house smelled of fried chicken. Had to be something else. Katherine Burnett would never in a million years fry a chicken in her high-end gourmet kitchen.

  Stemmed glasses filled with a crisp chardonnay Dan senior had selected just for the occasion were passed around.

  Jess resisted the impulse to drink hers down and demand a refill.

  Katherine lifted hers. “Thank you, Jess, for helping my friends find the truth in the midst of this horrible tragedy.”

  Both Daniels echoed a hear, hear.

  A broad smile flashed across Katherine’s wrinkle-free face. Figure that one out.

  “To you, Jess,” she offered, “for having the relentless instincts of a coonhound.”

  Oh, yes, she was going to need a lot more wine.

  When glasses had clinked and all had sipped their wine, Katherine grabbed Jess by the arm. “Let’s eat, dear. I’ve prepared a meal that will remind you of the good old days when you and Lily were just kids.”

  Jess snagged the bottle of wine with her free hand before allowing the woman to usher her toward the kitchen. “You don’t say?”

  “Fried chicken,” Katherine touted. “Buttery mashed potatoes, green beans, and turnip greens. Dan senior even made corn bread.”

  Jess propped a smile in place. “That’s just… incredible.”

  Whatever the menu said about Katherine’s opinion of Jess’s lower-middle-class roots, the food was quite tasty. Jess actually hadn’t had fried chicken like that since she was a kid. She would, however, go to her grave believing that Katherine had hired someone to prepare the chicken and deliver it to her kitchen.

  In the end it hadn’t really mattered. Three, four, maybe five glasses of wine later and Jess was in a calm and happy place, filled with fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

  • • •

  10:08 p.m.

  Jess liked watching the stars go by as Dan drove through the darkness. No matter how long she’d been away, she never forgot the way it felt to rush through the night with him. In high school he’d had a convertible Thunderbird. Between the promise of the night and the sultry summer breeze it had felt like they could do anything.

  How in the world had the two of them ended up together during their high school years? He had been Mr. Popular. Captain of the football team. President of his class at the city’s ritziest private school. She had been no one with a capital N-O at public school on the low-rent side of town.

  They’d literally bumped into each other at Birmingham’s Central Library. Her books and papers had gone every which way. He had apologized profusely while attempting to gather her things into a manageable armload. She had been totally and completely mesmerized. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off his face.

  She’d seen him around at various hangouts of course. But not up close.

  From that moment she had been completely, utterly in love with him. And he had loved her relentlessly. They had been inseparable.

  But that was then
and this was now.

  She studied his profile, the dim glow from the dash giving her just enough illumination to see the details that had captured her heart so totally all those years ago. That strong, square jaw. The straight nose and full lips. More than just classically handsome, he was pretty damned hot. Had been at seventeen and he still was. It was so unfair that men aged so well while women… grew frumpier and crinkly.

  Jess turned her attention forward and laughed. Once she started she couldn’t stop. It was just too incredibly hilarious.

  When she finally had to catch her breath and swipe her eyes, Dan demanded, “What’s so funny?”

  “Your mother.” The giggles started again. A whole minute was required to regain control. “She compared me to a coonhound.” Jess giggled some more. “But at least she didn’t call me fat.” She dissolved into hysterical laughter. There was just no stopping it.

  Dan joined her, his deep, smooth laughter filling the space around her, making her feel warm and safe.

  Before Jess had composed herself, he’d taken an unexpected turn and was heading in the opposite direction. “Where’re we going?”

  “I’m taking you to a special place.”

  That he said this with such mystery aroused her curiosity. “What special place? You know I don’t like surprises.” She hated surprises. She’d had a few too many in her life. But the feel-good factor of the wine and the solving of two cases had made her agreeable. Actually it could very well turn out to be three cases, since the Michelle Butler case had been reopened.

  “I think you’ll like this surprise.”

  Jess sat up straighter and surveyed the landscape. When he took the exit for Thirty-First Street and meandered around to Thirty-Third, she gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

  He flashed a grin. “You dare me?”

  She dropped back against her seat, still stunned that he would even consider it. “I double-dog dare you.”

  True to his word he drove straight into the parking area for Sloss Furnaces. “We could be arrested,” she warned.

  “Not if we don’t get caught.”