Mystic Hearts

by Cait Jarrod

  Charlene’s gut tensed. “Which is?”

  “I bought the café, hoping you’d say yes to be a partner with me, but when you remained working at The Memory Café in Fredericksburg, I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid you’d see me as controlling..”

  Shame washed over Charlene. She’d made her friend feel bad and hadn’t realized it.

  “In essence, I was. I did something without your knowledge, expecting you to jump at the chance to at least own half the restaurant.” Gloria blew out a choked breath. “There, I said it. Go ahead and kill me.”

  Twin reactions raced through Charlene. One, she wasn’t happy that her friend made a decision for her. And, two, she was numb from her fingers to her toes from Gloria’s generosity. And here she had a blip of a moment where she questioned her friend’s motives. “What would you have done if I said no? And when were you planning to contact me?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t know. After I made my decision, I had fundraisers. I’ve used the money raised to pay for your half of the mortgage. The town’s people love you. They hated that you went through such hardship.”

  “I’ll pay them back.”

  Gloria acted like a jumping bean again and her eyes widened. “That means you’ll do it? You’ll be my partner?”

  Charlene loved this place too much to turn it down. She tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded. “If you stop jumping, yes.”

  Gloria grounded her feet and stared at Charlene’s forehead. “Oh my god, what happened?”

  Charlene touched the bruise on her head and decided not to share that Andrew was in the area. If Gloria saw him, she would have mentioned it.

  Thinking about her current dilemma, she didn’t want anyone to know she had ownership of The Café until she’d sorted out her troubles with her ex. Her ex would manipulate and do whatever was in his power to sell it out from under her and keep the money, not caring who was involved. Gloria didn’t need to be sucked into Charlene’s troubles.

  Until then, the celebrating would have to wait. “Gloria, there are things that I can’t share yet. I would appreciate keeping our agreement quiet for now. If anyone asks, please tell them you didn’t get a chance to talk to me about it.”

  A watery-eyed Gloria stared, a questioning expression shooting her eyebrows into her bangs. “He’s back.”

  Panic that Gloria would do something crazy tripped her heart. She coughed to plunge it back in rhythm, but it wasn’t enough to stop the sour taste from reaching the back of Charlene’s throat. “I don’t want to discuss him. Not now. Later. Okay?”

  Gloria nodded but her hazel eyes kept questioning.

  “Thank you. I’m sneaking out the back door. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m glad you’re back…almost back.” Gloria smiled, reminding Charlene that the BOFs didn’t corner the market on good people.

  ****

  “Hey, Missy.” Larry stopped beside her desk and picked up his messages. Other than a note from the Director, keeping him up-to-date on the ‘need to know case’, the rest were junk. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “No problem. A Rona Thomas is waiting to speak to you. She’s sitting in the chairs outside your office.”

  Larry glanced over his shoulder to the back wall to a light-skinned female in her early twenties with pink and purple hair. She gripped a red baseball cap in her lap as if it was her lifeline. The toe of her tennis shoe lent leverage for her bouncing leg. She embodied nervous energy.

  He turned his attention back to Agent Missy Richards. “Did she give a reason for wanting to speak with me?”

  Missy tilted her dark hair toward the girl. “She mentioned that she hoped you’d hurry before anyone notices she’s missing. About that time you entered the office, I directed her to the chairs.”

  He lifted the message in his hand. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  As Larry approached, Rona’s eyes grew wide and she sat straighter.

  “Hi, Ms. Richards, I’m Special Agent Newman,” he stretched out his hand. “How may I help you?”

  “Can I talk to you in private?” she said, her voice quaking, and she diverted her gaze to the floor.

  “Sure. Come into my office.” The minute he turned his back to open the door, Rona took a gulp of air and wiped her hands on her jean-clad legs.

  Someone or something had her running scared.

  He stepped into the office, breathed in the aroma of his morning coffee, and waved his arm to the chair on the opposite side from his desk. “Have a seat.” He balled up and trashed the Director’s message, and parked himself in his chair, the faux leather groaning under him.

  Rona’s gaze flicked over the few organizers he kept on his desk for files, his closed laptop, his empty coffee mug that read, “Work Sucks,” a departing gift from Jake, and bare walls. “Man, your office is boring.”

  Larry braced his elbow on the armrest of his chair and leaned his chin against his hand. A person who’d made the effort to come to him wasn’t concerned with his office furnishings. “What can I help you with?”

  Her gaze flashed to his, her body vibrated in way that let him know she risked a lot by being here. “I don’t want anyone to know I came here.” She plopped her cap on her hand and rubbed her hands together between her legs.

  Larry got a good look at the hat. An ‘I’ stitched in the center, the Impalers’ insignia. “Got it.”

  “I have this friend. I think he’s in trouble…eh….going to cause trouble.”

  Larry picked up a pad, clicked his pen, and jotted down Rona Thomas and Impalers. “This friend, he have a name?”

  She sliced a hand through the air and gave a quick shake of her head.

  Friend, Larry noted.

  The Impalers’ gang Rona was mixed up with was a small-time outfit that engaged in the run of the mill crimes in the Northern Virginia area. From the information Steve dug up, only a few members had branched out into violent crimes. Given her small stature and soft features she didn’t look like she’d participate in anything more than growing weed. “What type of trouble?” he asked when she didn’t give a name.

  Expression serious, her gaze did a constant tour of his virtually empty desk. “Mouse is threatening people.”

  “Mouse, is he the friend?”

  She nodded, her eyes drifted to his. “He’s threatening the guys, saying they’ll regret crossing him.”

  “Does Mouse belong to the Impalers’ gang too?”

  Her mouth dropped open, shock registering in her features. “You know?”

  He pointed the end of the pen at her head. “You’re wearing the hat.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “I’m not sure what you expect or want from me,” Larry said. “Without details, I can’t help.” His cell vibrated. “Excuse me.” He tugged it out of the holder on his belt and looked at the image Jake sent him. A newspaper clip of Charlene and Andrew Smith’s wedding party. Larry brought the phone closer. The image was fuzzy. Other than seeing a white dress, dark suits, and a splash of purple, he couldn’t make out anyone. He pressed his middle finger and thumb on the screen to spread the image. In the caption, Randy Millstone of Colonial Beach was circled in red.

  “Huh?” Why would Jake circle this guy’s name?

  An address followed.

  Impatience and urgency ripped through his gut. Jake and Charlene must have talked about more than what he was informed, for Jake to send him this info. “Ms. Thomas, something has come up and I need to leave.” Larry stood.

  Bolting upright, she flashed a palm. “Wait, please! If you’d come to Greenwood Manor and talk to Hulk, he could give you more information.”

  Larry dropped back in his seat. “You have my attention.”

  “Mouse has confided in him. Every morning Hulk and I check the fences and feed the…” She scraped her teeth over her lower lip then the upper one. “Arrest us for trespassing, bring us in and interrogate us. He’ll break.”

  “You want me t
o arrest you?”

  “Well, I expect you’ll release me after you find out the information you need.”

  Larry eyed her, his senses on high alert. “An Impaler wants to work with the FBI?”

  “To stop Mouse from acting stupid. He wants to bring in other gangs.”

  Larry arched his brows. “What gangs?”

  “I don’t know, that’s why you need to question Hulk. Listen, I got involved with this gang. I was bored with my life, wanted a little excitement, so I dyed my hair, and joined. I don’t want anyone hurt.” Her words rushed out in a hurry, desperation lacing them. “Please!”

  Either she witnessed true hostility and told him the truth or The Impalers had upped their game to target agents. “Where and when?”

  “On the corner around nine o’clock. Remember, you don’t know me.”

  Larry penciled it on the notepad. “I’ll be there.”

  ****

  As Charlene turned onto the familiar side street lined with fishermen’s homes, she regretted not seeing Randy Millstone since she’d moved away.

  Half way down the street, she slowed in front of the box-shaped house. The turquoise trim identified the house from the rest on the block, Randy’s home. She parked the car on the dirt and gravel shoulder.

  Randy, bent over with his back to her, weeded a chrysanthemum bed. A white lattice, enclosing the crawl space, acted as a backdrop and made the already rich colors of the red, purple, and yellow blooms more vivid.

  Charlene watched him for several minutes, working up the guts to question him, before she turned off the engine.

  Gravel crunched under her feet as she made her way to the sidewalk. Seagulls squawked and the light scent of fish floated through the air. She never understood why Randy stayed friends with her ex. The well-mannered, kind man outshined Andrew in every aspect as a human being.

  Closer she moved toward him, the more her nerve cells jumped, similar to how Gloria couldn’t stop bouncing. A man that she’d known for years, who was best man in her wedding, shouldn’t elicit a nervous reaction from her, yet here she was. Guilt had a way of making her uneasy.

  Before she reached him, he stood and faced her.

  Olive-skinned with crinkles at the corners of his eyes, enhanced by the time he spent in the sun… Graying at the temples of his dark hair, revealed the tough life he led, and added to his fisherman’s charm.

  He looked good.

  “Charlene.”

  The lilt in his voice eased the tension building between her shoulders and slowed the fluttering in her stomach. “Hi, Randy, it’s good to see you.”

  “You, too.” He pulled her into a massive bear hug.

  Memories of how well he treated her and Henry surfaced. She shouldn’t have stayed away. Andrew may have been a jackass, but not Randy, never.

  He released her and stepped back. “What do you need?”

  “You were always direct and to the point.”

  “No other way to be.”

  She’d take the same tactic. “I’m looking for Andrew.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, stretching the cotton material over toned muscles. Dirt covered his hands and sleeves. “I figured.”

  Her skin prickled, not from the water’s continuous breeze this time of year, but from his watchful eyes. She diverted her gaze and skimmed the houses and colorful yards bordering his. In the middle of autumn, flowers in this neighborhood flourished. “I don’t know how everyone keeps the blossoms looking so beautiful this late in the year.”

  “Tender loving care.” His powerful gaze toured her as if he read her mind. “You’re stalling.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “I have.”

  She waited for him to be forthcoming. When he didn’t, she asked, “Would you elaborate?”

  “No.”

  She rolled her eyes and gazed at the water a few blocks over. Coming here wasn’t a good idea. While Randy’s loyalty to Andrew puzzled her, she’d respected it and wouldn’t push. “Okay, Randy.” She turned toward her car and hesitated, debating the wisdom of walking away from the only link to finding him.

  When Andrew left her and Henry with no money and a pile of bills, Randy had contributed. Not having much money himself, his actions had said a lot about his character. Coming from a turbulent background, he couldn’t stand for people to be mistreated. She twisted to tell him about Andrew’s latest stunt and flinched.

  He’d moved closer. “Where’d this come from?” He pointed to her face, and something dark flashed over his features. The pulse in his jaw ticked.

  The turmoil of reactions that kept her stomach in an uproar lodged in her throat. She blinked back the tears, fighting to emerge, and remained quiet. “You know where.”

  “Is there any more?” His intense gaze lowered from the bruise to her neck and lower, as if inspecting her for injuries.

  A lone tear broke through. She wiped her cheek. “No.”

  “I’ll kill him.” His tight monotone reinforced the molten rage flickering behind his dark eyes. His fists clenched into massive lumps at his sides. “Is Henry okay?”

  “He is.” She shook her head and gulped down the growing swell of emotion. “Andrew wouldn’t touch him.”

  “I didn’t think he’d ever hurt you either.”

  Her gaze locked on his and her breath hitched. He was right. When she and Andrew married, the thought of him harming her emotionally or physically hadn’t been a possibility.

  “Damn, when he split the way he had, I figured he’d lost it. Him hurting you puts him on the all-time-low, shithead lists.” Randy placed his hand on his hips, his face twisting between anger and frustration. “I gave my word not to give his whereabouts. I can’t renege. I owe him.”

  She scraped her teeth over her lower lip. “You’ve always had a peculiar loyalty to him I’ve never understood.”

  “Yeah.” Randy pulled her into his arms.

  Chapter Fourteen

  On his drive out to Colonial Beach, Larry tried to think about Greenwood Manor’s case and what his visitor had told him earlier, to no avail. Charlene and the issues she was having with her ex along with wondering why Jake felt it necessary to send him Randy Millstone’s address ran rampant in his head.

  Fifty yards from his destination, he slowed the Suburban to a stop on the shoulder of the rural road and scoped out the area near Millstone’s residence.

  Ranch style houses lined the road. Identical chain-link fences separated yards and at the rear of the perimeter, the sandy beach and the Potomac River. A barking dog paced the length of the fence.

  He tugged out his binoculars from the console between the seats and scoped out Millstone’s home. Green shutters, flower beds, and a man and woman hugged. From the information he compiled at his office before heading out, Millstone was of Italian descent. Dark hair and tanned skin confirmed the chances the man he looked at was the best man in Charlene’s wedding. He focused on the woman. Long, brown hair reached her shoulder blades.

  An unsettled feeling plunged into the pit of his stomach. He lowered the lenses…trim waist, oh so perfect butt.

  Charlene?

  Anger and jealousy spiked. He wanted to reach through the distance and shove the guy off her. Grinding his teeth, he dropped the binoculars to his lap and his fingers curled around the steering wheel as he tried to remove the barb that stabbed him in the chest.

  Irregular situations often led to measured anger he handled every day, but the annoying emotion of jealousy streaming through his system, he had a hard time managing.

  Frozen in the spot, he stared in their direction, his red-hot vision not allowing him to see clearly. Before he stepped out of the vehicle, he had to get under control.

  His cell buzzed.

  Without checking caller ID, he hit the talk button, putting it on speaker. “Newman.”

  “From your tone,” Jake said, “you’re at the residence.”

  Impossible thoughts arose. Had his buddy set him up? �
�Affirmative.”

  “Old friends, agent. They’re old friends. Going through a tough time. I don’t know what you’re seeing or what you’re thinking, but remember they’re friends.”

  “Say friends one more time, so I can reach through the phone and punch ya.”

  Jake chuckled. “If I was a betting man, I’d think Millstone has info. That’s why you’re there. Not to spy on Charlene.”

  “That’s your cover story, isn’t it? She told you where she was going and you sent me.”

  “I sent the best man for the job,” Jake teased, as if he had the authority to tell Larry what to do.

  Millstone eased away and Charlene crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Gotta go.”

  Larry hit the off button. Shoved his phone in his pocket, stuck his gun in his hip holster, and slipped on a blazer.

  Opening the door, the fishy odor gagged him. He covered his mouth and stepped onto the salt and pepper paved road and gently closed the door. Heart thundering in his chest, the effects of the green monster flying through his veins, all he could think about was Charlene reconnecting with an old flame. He light footed it toward them, wanting to overhear their conversation. Spying on friends wasn’t in his gamut of past actions, yet he never thought about a woman non-stop, either.

  “He’s different,” Millstone said. “Something’s off.”

  “How?” Charlene asked.

  All business, nothing intimate.

  He worked his shoulders, easing the tension and preparing for the next onslaught of emotions. Thanks to Jake, he was about to piss Charlene off. No doubt, she’d jump to the conclusion that he followed her.

  Larry cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Mr. Millstone? I’m Special Agent Newman.” Larry handed him a business card from the small stack he carried in his shirt pocket.

  Charlene inhaled a breath of air, a low shrill escaping her, and gaped.

  For a brief moment, Millstone stared at the card before locking eyes with Larry, his features darkening. “What’s this about?”

  “Larry, why are you here? Jake told you, didn’t he?”

  “Not the place or time,” Larry barked and regretted it.