That was a good thing.
“We caught some of’em before they were able to carry out any of the shootings. But a couple of’em are still out there, and we gotta get’em off the streets before they come after one of us.”
Oh, God. “Do you think they will?”
“Dunno,” Rafe said. “Not sure if Jamal and me had anything to do with them catching on. They coulda just smelled it. If it wasn’t something we did, we can just sit tight and wait for’em to get in touch. If it was something we did...”
Yes. There was no need for him to spell it out. If he and Jamal had somehow given the game away, they’d be next in line, probably.
“You have protection, don’t you?” Knife, gun, surveillance...
“I can take care of myself, darlin’. I’ve dealt with bigger threats than a couple overgrown boys who think they’re hot shit.”
His voice was even, but with a cold edge that didn’t bode well for said boys when he caught up with them.
“Can’t argue with that,” I said lightly. “Still, you’re only human. And not indestructible.”
“I’ll be fine,” Rafe said.
“How’s the meth lab?”
“Still there. One of the vice cops from Metro was gonna move in this weekend, to keep an eye on next door when I leave. That might have to wait now.”
I imagined it might. “How long do you expect it to take to find these guys?”
“Not long,” Rafe said. “There are APBs out on all three of’em. We’ve rounded up a lot of their friends, so there’s not many places for them to go. And I’ve got a feeling they’re lying low today, but they’ll show up when it’s dark. I’m hoping, by tomorrow morning, they’ll be off the streets.”
“I guess this means I’ll have to spend another day in Sweetwater.”
“Sorry, darlin’.”
“I’m not complaining,” I said. “I have plenty to keep me busy.” Darcy’s adoption, Yvonne’s inheritance, Beulah’s death. And in the next hour, Alexandra’s possible pregnancy.
Maybe it was just as well that Rafe couldn’t make it to lunch. “I’ll tell Alexandra you said hi.”
“You do that. I’ll give you a call again when I can.”
I told him I appreciated it, and hung up. To find that Darcy had completed the task of putting the files back into the boxes and stacking them neatly without my help.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I left you all the work.”
“It’s all right. You’re doing me a favor, being here. And we may have gotten a lead.” She glanced at the phone I was dropping back into my purse. “Is your husband OK?”
“Fine. Things didn’t go according to plan last night. They’re scrambling to catch up. I’ll have to stay in Sweetwater another day or two.” Just because Rafe thought the wayward gang members might turn up after dark tonight, didn’t mean they would. And if they didn’t, I’d have to stay longer.
“Let’s go tell Grimaldi we’re done,” I added, and headed for the door. “If she hasn’t been called out, she can come to lunch with us.”
Darcy followed me out into the hallway and closed the door to the conference room behind us. I walked down the hall to Grimaldi’s office.
The door was open and the room beyond was dark and deserted.
“Huh.” I turned to Darcy. “She’s gone. She could at least have told us she’d been called out.”
“Maybe she had to leave quickly,” Darcy said.
Maybe so. Although by the time they got to Grimaldi, the bodies were already dead. Not like time was of the essence anymore.
Then again, there might be evidence that was in danger of being lost, or something like that.
“I’ll give her a call when we get outside,” I said, “and let her know we’ve left and all the files are in the conference room.”
Darcy nodded.
“I guess it’ll be just the three of us for lunch.”
Darcy fell into step beside me. “Your husband can’t make it?”
I pushed the button to summon the elevator. “He has to work. Law enforcement never sleeps.” At least not when there are bad guys on the loose, and there usually are.
I called Grimaldi from the car, as we made our way across the bridge from downtown into East Nashville. “You left.”
“Somebody died,” Grimaldi said.
“I’m sorry. I was just looking forward to lunch.”
She unbent as far as to tell me, “Me, too. Have you heard from your husband yet?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” I slowed down for the light on the corner of Main Street and Fifth, and told Darcy out of the corner of my mouth, “I used to live in that building.”
She looked at it.
“Second floor,” I added, “where there’s a green bike on the balcony.”
Darcy nodded.
“He called just before we left the conference room,” I told Grimaldi. “We put everything back into the boxes, but we had to leave them there, since we didn’t know what else to do.”
“That’s fine. How’s Mr. Collier?”
“Bruised but unbowed. Or actually, he’s neither. Things did not go according to plan last night. They lost a couple of the people they were hoping to arrest. He’s staying undercover for another day in case they turn up.”
Grimaldi didn’t say anything, and I added, “Why do you ask?”
“The DB looks like a gang member. Shot execution style through the back of the head sometime last night.”
My own head got a little light, and her voice sounded far away when she added, “I thought he might be connected to your husband’s operation.”
Darcy nudged my arm and pointed to the light, now green. I took my foot off the brake, just as the car behind me sounded the alarm. I resisted the temptation to give him a sign in the back window. It would have been unladylike.
“He might be,” I told Grimaldi. “It isn’t Jamal, is it?”
“Of course not. I know what Jamal looks like. If it were someone you knew, I wouldn’t have broken the news like that.”
Good to know.
“Male black,” Grimaldi said, “eighteen to twenty-two. Five feet, ten inches, approximately one-eighty. Dressed in a wife-beater shirt, saggy jeans, and with a bandanna in his pocket.”
“You can try to call Rafe, but when he called me, it was from a different number. I’m not sure he’s using his own phone.” And I wasn’t sure he’d answer. “You might be better off trying Wendell. Although if you do talk to Rafe, remember his name this week is Ry’mone.”
“I have a call in to the gang unit,” Grimaldi said. “I figure they’ll be able to identify the gentleman. They keep a list of suspected gang members, and this one has the tattoos, so he’s probably known to them.”
“Let me know how it goes, will you? If there’s any connection to Rafe?”
Grimaldi said she would. “How did it go with the hospital records?”
“We found one possibility,” I said. “We’re going to try to hunt it down this afternoon. But first we’re having lunch.”
The sign for the barbeque place was up the road on the right. Darcy pointed to it. I nodded.
“Enjoy,” Grimaldi told me. “I’ll be in touch.”
I told her I appreciated it, and swung the car off the road into the parking lot.
Alexandra’s bright Miata was nowhere to be seen, so we went inside. And because the barbeque place is run cafeteria style—you place your order at the counter and pay for it, and they bring it to you when it’s ready—we found a table and settled in to wait.
“Your friend, the detective, caught a case?” Darcy asked, fiddling with the bottle of hot sauce and the salt and pepper.
I nodded. “Young black male, shot through the back of the head. She said he looked like a gang banger. That maybe he has something to do with the case Rafe’s working on.”
“That would be convenient.”
I suppose it would be. One less gang member to hunt down. Although I knew tha
t part of what Rafe had tried to accomplish, was to save lives, so he wasn’t likely to be happy that this guy was dead.
I caught a flash of red out of the corner of my eye, and turned to watch as Alexandra Puckett’s Miata zoomed into the lot, narrowly missing a planter full of wilted petunias, and rocketed into a parking space. The door opened and Alexandra bounced out.
If she was bothered by the idea that she might be pregnant, it didn’t show. There was no dragging of feet here. And if she was battling morning sickness, it sure didn’t show.
She’d always looked a couple of years older than she was, at least when she went to the effort, and she’d gone to the effort now. Her skirt was short, her wedge sandals were high, and she was wearing a low-cut top and enough makeup for two people. The skirt flounced around her thighs, and the black hair—streaked with blue—bounced around her face.
More than one man turned to watch her approach the door, and I wanted to get to my feet and yell, “Jail bait! Jail bait!”
But of course I didn’t. It would have mortified Alexandra, and besides, I’ve been taught never to stand up in a crowded room and yell, unless there’s a fire.
Instead, I just waited for her to look in our direction, and waved.
She lit up and headed our way.
“How old did you say she was?” Darcy asked me, sotto voce.
I didn’t take my eyes off Alexandra, weaving her way between the tables toward us. “Seventeen.”
“She’s going to get herself in trouble one of these days.”
Yes, indeed. And perhaps sooner rather than later. I reached into my purse and touched the plastic bag with the pregnancy test, just to make sure it was still there, before getting up to greet her.
“Wow!” She stopped on the other side of the table, her eyes on my stomach. “You’re huge!”
I made a face. “Thank you ever so.”
Alexandra giggled. “You know I didn’t mean it that way. But you’ve really popped since the wedding.”
Yes, I had. And I had to remind myself to be happy about it, that it would result in a healthy baby. If I didn’t, I could really start to feel like the Hindenburg.
“This is Darcy,” I said. “You probably saw each other at the wedding.”
“Briefly,” Darcy said and held out a hand. “Nice to see you again.”
They shook.
“Let’s order,” I suggested, since I was starving, “and then we’ll sit down and talk.”
We did. Alexandra wanted chicken wings, Darcy barbeque, and I ordered fried catfish, since I’d eaten here with Rafe once and he’d fed me a piece of his, and it had been good. It came with cornbread and a couple of sides, and since one of them was banana pudding, I had that. Dairy is good for the baby. And a side of green beans, so I could feel virtuous.
Then we went back to the table, and I handed Alexandra the pharmacy bag. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
I expected her to put it in her own purse, but instead she started looking around for the bathroom.
“Don’t you want to take it home?” I asked. Where she’d be more comfortable than a restaurant restroom. And have more privacy.
She gave me a ‘duh’ sort of look. “If I take it home, I’ll have to worry about getting rid of it again. And my dad might see it. I don’t think he goes through my trash, but you never know.”
“Right.” I hadn’t thought of that. It’s been a while since I was a teenager living at home. “Of course.”
“I’ll be right back.” She pushed back her chair.
“We’ll hold down the fort here,” I said, and watched her walk toward the bathroom. Darcy arched her brows at me, and I added, “She thinks she might be pregnant.”
“But she’s just a kid!”
“Didn’t you have a boyfriend when you were seventeen?”
“Yes,” Darcy said. “But I didn’t sleep with him.”
“I didn’t, either.” Todd Satterfield and I had never had sex. It had come as quite a surprise to Rafe when I told him that. He, of course, had gotten around a lot more than I ever had. Sooner as well as more frequently. My first sexual experience had been with Bradley, and I’d been in college by then.
Rafe’s... I’d never even asked. Wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“I hope she’s not,” I added. “She still has a year of high school left. Her dad’s paying a fortune for her to go to Harpeth Hall. Very exclusive girls’ school.”
Darcy nodded. “How do you think she got pregnant?”
The usual way, I’m sure. “She had a boyfriend when I met her last year. She’s probably had a boyfriend or two since then, too. She probably has one now.”
“You didn’t ask?”
I shook my head. “None of my business.”
“Will you tell her dad?”
“If she’s pregnant?” She might want me there when she broke the news. She’d asked me to stay last year, while she explained to him that she’d lied about staying at a friend’s house overnight and had gone to a party at her boyfriend’s place instead. “I don’t feel good about ratting her out, but I’ll be there to help her through it, if she wants me to be.”
“That’s nice,” Darcy said.
I shrugged. That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?
Nine
The food arrived before Alexandra. I don’t know whether she was in there, psyching herself up to pee on the stick, or worried about what she’d find out, or whether it just took that long for the results to show up. Or maybe she had to wait for a stall, or finish crying over the results—one way or the other—before coming back out. Either way, the food got to the table before Alexandra did.
“Maybe you should go get her,” Darcy said, with a worried glance over her shoulder. “She’s been in there a long time.”
She had. The food was in front of me, though, smelling great, and I was really hungry. “I’m sure she’s fine,” I said, eyeing my catfish. “If she’s not out in five more minutes, I’ll go look for her.”
Her car was still in the lot, anyway, so she hadn’t crept out the back door and left us.
The catfish was crispy and crunchy and delicious, and the tartar sauce the perfect accompaniment. I made myself eat the green beans because they’re good for me, and I picked at the fried cornbread, even though it isn’t my favorite. All the time, I was counting down the seconds until I could have a go at the banana pudding.
The restroom door opened before I got that far, and Alexandra came out. I watched as she walked across the floor, skirting the tables. She wasn’t flouncing anymore. Hard to say whether that was a sign of something or not.
Her face gave nothing away when she sat down on the opposite side of the table. Rather than jumping down her throat with questions, I continued to wield knife and fork. “The food came while you were in the bathroom. You better eat before it gets cold.”
Alexandra nodded and picked up her silverware. Whatever she’d discovered hadn’t affected her appetite, anyway. She dug in with gusto.
Darcy didn’t say anything—probably didn’t feel it was her place—and I finished lunch and picked up my cup of banana pudding and my plastic spoon, and dipped one into the other and conveyed it to my mouth. Mmmm. My eyes almost crossed as the taste of bananas and whipped cream exploded on my tongue.
“Good?” Darcy asked with a grin.
I nodded. “Delicious. Did you get the banana pudding, too?”
She had, and agreed it was great, even if it did come in a plastic cup. While we were oohing and aahing and savoring every bite, Alexandra caught up, as well. She hadn’t chosen pudding as one of her sides, but had a cup of cherry jell-o on her tray instead.
“So how did it go?” I asked finally, after I had scraped the plastic cup clean and talked myself out of licking it. Next time, maybe I’d just get two sides of banana pudding and forego the green beans. Bananas are fruit, right? That’s almost as good for you as vegetables.
Alexandra rolled her ey
es. “Just what I expected. I’m pregnant.”
Shit. I mean... shoot.
“Are you sure?” I asked, and then made a face. Stupid question. Of course she was sure. She’d make sure she was sure and there was no room for doubt.
“I could show you the stick,” Alexandra said, “but I left it in the trash can. But it definitely had two lines. Two very solid, pink lines. Does that mean it’s a girl?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. The baseline is pink either way, and if the baseline is pink, then I think both lines are pink. It doesn’t have anything to do with the gender of the baby.”
Alexandra nodded. We sat in silence a few moments.
“How do you feel?” I asked, and tried to make it sound supportive rather than nosy.
“How do you think I feel?” She did a typical teenage huff. “Scared. Stupid. In shock.”
All perfectly natural. Last fall, when I’d found myself pregnant—after, literally, the first time Rafe and I had sex—I’d felt all those emotions, too. Worried about what my family would think. Worried about what Rafe would say. Scared that I’d have to be a single mother, because my baby’s father hadn’t signed on for fatherhood.
And I hadn’t been seventeen and still in high school.
“The father,” I said tentatively. “Is he your boyfriend? Or... um... just some guy you fell into bed with?”
It was Alexandra’s turn to make a face. “Somewhere in between. We’re not dating. Not really. He’s a few years older than me.”
My eyes narrowed. “How few? How much older is he?”
Alexandra squirmed. “He’s twenty. Or maybe twenty-one.”
Three or four years older than she. I’d been expecting worse. “That’s not bad,” I said. “Rafe’s three years older than me. Three or four years isn’t that much.”
Alexandra nodded, and looked relieved. “Anyway, I’m still in high school. I think he likes me, but he thinks I’m too young.”
Although not too young to sleep with.
I didn’t say it, but Alexandra must have read my mind, or more likely, my expression. It probably wasn’t hard. “He thought I was older. I look older. I didn’t tell him, not until afterward.”
Uncertain Terms (Savannah Martin Mysteries Book 12) Page 10