Big Girls Don't Cry

by Taylor Lee

  Brady looked thoughtful. ““Did you tell Jake that?”

  She shook her head. “No. He wouldn’t… he was too angry with me to talk.”

  Brady eyed her. “Hmm. Yeah, I noticed that.”

  She peered up at him, afraid to ask, but she had to know. “You…you saw me up there… on the balcony? Doing my …my practice?”

  “Yeah, I sure did.” He gave a low whistle. “That was quite a show, honey.”

  She felt the heat flood her face. “You… you don’t understand. I couldn’t do it in the room, I couldn’t …go back in that room…”

  Brady interrupted. “Hey, kiddo. I’m not being critical. Hell, that’s the last thing I’d be. I’m just damn sorry what you’ve been going through. Christ, I know how hard it’s been.”

  Her voice sounded distant, even to her.

  “It was cold, so cold.”

  He gave an aggrieved sigh. “You slept out there, didn’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Yeah, I thought so. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was there the whole time. From the time you got back with Jake until you went shopping this morning.”

  They sat quietly for several minutes. Brady picked at the label on his bottle then asked, “I’m curious. You didn’t happen to tell Jake about all this, did you? That you slept out there, that you knew the guy had been in your room?”

  “He… he seemed to know.”

  Brady slammed his empty bottle on the table. “Oh man, that explains it. That’s why he’s got that stick up his ass. Hell, in all the years I’ve known him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jake so upset.” He looked at her appreciatively. “Whew. Never thought I’d see it. But, honey, you’ve got under the big guy’s skin in a big, big way.”

  ~~~

  After Brady left, Lexie sat at the table for several minutes, then went into the living room. She took some of the kindling from the basket on the hearth and built a small fire. When it was burning brightly, casting a warm glow over the room, she went over to her suitcase and pulled out the stack of things that she’d wrapped in a towel. She knelt before the fire and one by one threw her lacey underwear -- silky bras, panties, thongs, and lace garters in the fire.

  She couldn’t bear the thought of them against her skin. She’d seen the way he’d arranged them – in neat piles, all in order, by color.

  He’d wanted her to know that he had touched them, played with them.

  Chapter 10

  Jake eyed the men at the table and had the uncomfortable feeling that Lexie would categorize their discussion as one more army attempt to cover its ass. Jake glanced from man to man. All but Dirk Reynolds, a man he’d known over the years, outranked him. All had been in the field in years past, but their jobs at this time were administrative. Jake was the youngest by fifteen years and the only member of the special forces. He also was the only one who’d known Anthony personally.

  General Peters, the base commander, his firm jaw tightening, spoke for the group. “Don’t think for a minute, Jake, that we aren’t as concerned about what happened as you are. Master Sgt. Beloi was a decorated war hero. If he had been killed in action, he would have been one of the most decorated men in the whole fucking army. We’re damned glad that the brass in Washington sent you to head up the investigation. I pledge that you will have the cooperation of every soldier on this base.”

  Jake murmured his thanks, but before he could speak, Major General Mac McCarty broke in.

  “I second that, Jake. General Peters and all of us are squarely behind you. But we have to look at the facts. There is no evidence that anyone on this base is involved with Sgt. Beloi’s murder. That doesn’t mean that we aren’t responsible for his family and finding the fuckers who did this.”

  Mike Pierce agreed. “The problem, Jake, is that his area is infested. These gangs are as ruthless, as brutal as anything you’ve seen in the worst shitholes in the world. As shocking as the sergeant’s murder was, it is commonplace among the rat infested gangs. The only thing more brutal is what they do to each other.”

  Jake shoved down his annoyance, determined to keep his anger at bay. He tried not to dwell on the fact that none of these men had been in the shitholes Mike referred to for over twenty years. All of them were good men, but had chosen to serve stateside in relatively safe areas. But this base, just miles from the Mexican border, was as close to being in the field as any in the country. Jake admitted it gave them credibility. And, hell, he knew the cartels. He’d seen their evil first hand.

  Before he could speak, Mike Pierce added, the creases on his face deepening. “You got to remember, Jake, your first loyalty is to the army. We don’t want a bunch of pansy assed senators and congressmen poking their nose in Army business. Thinking that for some reason we aren’t as tough as they are. Your job is to find the killer or killers as quickly as you can and make sure that none of the stench rubs off on the army.”

  Knowing he needed their support and that it was shortsighted to alienate the brass, Jake refused to be cowed. He responded using Colonel Pierce’s first name underscoring that they were the same rank. His voice was soft with a razor sharp edge.

  “You can rest assured, Mike, that I know my job and intend to do it no matter where the investigation takes me. I appreciate that all of you know this particular territory better than I do. But the reason the guys at Bragg sent me here is the fact that a highly decorated former soldier’s mutilated body was found on an army base. That fact cannot and will not be swept under the rug.”

  Mike Pierce flushed an angry red. “Now listen here, Jake, no one is trying to cover up anything.” Visibly struggling to contain his anger, he glared at Jake.

  Before he could continue, Dirk Reynolds spoke up. His tone was conciliatory.

  “All we’re saying, Jake, is that as brutal as Sgt. Beloi’s murder was, it is commonplace among the gangs. They are merciless. Unlike the mobs, they don’t care who they take down. Poking a stick in the eye of the U.S. Army and all that entails, is an afternoon’s joy ride for them. Embarrassing or taunting the U.S government is their idea of a circle jerk. Mike is right. This incident could rile up the Saturday morning commandos in the U. S. Senate and give them one more reason to either cut our funding or fund some fucking piece of equipment that we haven’t needed for twenty years.”

  General McCarty chimed in. “As far as we can tell, Jake, the fact that his body was found on base is a fluke or a deliberate act to turn the attention away from the perpetrators. Look, Beloi was an undercover cop. From everything we hear from the YPD, he was hot on the trail of a major drug consortium bringing illegal drugs into this country, something the gang cartels do every day of the week and twenty times on Sunday. No one wants to shut down your investigation, Jake. But the fact remains: it is a ninety nine percent certainty that Beloi’s body was dumped here to take the blame off the fuckers who killed him--the cartels.”

  Jake had enough. He rose from his chair and looked from man to man. Focusing on General McCarty, he said, “I agree, General. No one will shut down this investigation. Indeed, it is just beginning. I only arrived four days ago. However, I disagree with your conclusion. If there is a one percent chance that this is something other than the cartel’s clumsy attempt to smear the army, that is the one percent I’m gonna be on tight as a tick on a hunting dog’s ass. I owe it to Sgt. Beloi. And I owe it to the U. S. Army.”

  He saluted the men at the table, ignoring General Peters and McCarty’s wary expressions and Mike Pierce’s downright angry glare.

  Nodding to the base commander, he said, “I appreciate your arranging this meeting, General. I’ll keep you informed of my progress.”

  Dirk Reynolds jolted out of his chair and quickly saluted the men at the table.

  “Jake, let me walk you out.”

  ~~~

  “It’s good to see you, Jake. Hell, how long has it been? And, Christ, you get bigger and stronger every mission you’re on.”

  Jake nodded to the trim grey-
haired man with the slate blue eyes. He’d known Reynolds over the years and while they weren’t close, he liked the guy. “It’s good to see you, Dirk. I didn’t know you were in Yuma.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been here for a couple of years. I don’t get back to Bragg much, so I don’t get to check in with you as much as I’d like. People think this is the armpit of the world. In truth, it’s a heck of a post. Great food, the women are hot, and the training missions coming in and out bring a lot of variety. I’m working up my rank. I’m on the path to make full bird early next year. ‘Course that doesn’t mean much to you. Aren’t you the youngest full colonel in the whole fucking Army?”

  Jake waved aside the compliment.

  “Good for you, Dirk. I’m glad you’re in a good spot. You and I chose different paths. Don’t know if I could handle sitting behind a desk, but if anybody does it well, it’s you. We never missed a single piece of machinery or a weapon part on any mission I commanded, as long as you were in charge of logistics. It’s men like you who give the guys in the field a fighting chance to come out alive.”

  “Thanks, Jake. That’s high praise coming from a guy with your record. Hell, man, you are the gold standard!”

  Again, Jake shook off the praise.

  Dirk moved closer and lowered his voice. “Look, Jake, don’t get riled up over what happened in there. Mike Pierce is a hothead, always has been. But he has to deal on a regular basis with all the political assholes in Washington and he’s protective of the Army. In my opinion, a little too much, almost like he’s overcompensating. But, hell, I don’t envy him his job.”

  Jake shrugged.

  “Everyone’s doing their job, Dirk, just like they are supposed to. I’m also doing mine.” Jake held his gaze. “Look, Dirk, you know this place a hell of a lot better than I do. I’ll appreciate it if you’ll keep your eyes and ears open. I can use an inside guy who’s not afraid to look at all the angles.”

  “Hell, yeah, Jake. I’ve got your back. But I gotta tell you from long experience, this mess has ‘Cartel’ written all over it.”

  “I don’t disagree, Dirk.” He paused for emphasis. “But a good investigator doesn’t come to conclusions until he’s seen all the evidence.”

  He gave Dirk a cocky smile and didn’t try to keep the edge out of his voice. “And if I am anything, Dirk, I’m a hell of a good investigator. Keep sharing that fact with all the brass here and I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”

  ~~~

  Walt waited for the boss to respond to his telephone call. The fucker always made him wait. Rubbing it in who was in charge. Who called the shots. Walt was sick of being yelled at. He was as critical to the operation as the boss was. You’d never to know it to hear him. The phone rang. It wasn’t five seconds before the tirade began.

  “Goddamn you, Walt. I’m telling you if you ever ignore my orders again, you are a dead man. I’m still cleaning up your mess.”

  Walt tried unsuccessfully to keep from whining. “I…I killed him just like you told me to.”

  “I told you to leave the body on the base?” The boss’s voice was close to a shriek. “Do you understand that because of your stupidity we now have the whole goddamned United States Army up our ass? I’ve had calls from two fucking senators already. And, fuck, they sent in the number one CID agent in the country to investigate. ”

  Walt complained, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “I…I couldn’t haul him out. I told you that. The fucker was in pieces. And…I thought because he was a former beret it would make sense that he might have been meeting someone on the base.”

  The voice on the other end was silky, threatening. “No, Walt, you didn’t think. And because of your idiocy, we are in danger of blowing the whole enterprise apart. Do you have any idea who Jake Gardner is?”

  Walt thrust out his chest. Maybe the boss wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. He tried to imitate the boss’s steely tone. “I don’t think he’s that great. Christ, it took me all of thirty seconds to get in Beloi’s sister’s room. If he’s such a hotshot, you’d think he’d take better care of the slut he’s shaggin.”

  The harsh sigh on the other was audible. “Walt, I’m going to tell you something. You better listen up. The only people who think they can outsmart Jake Gardner are dumber than dirt. Hell, they’re dumber than you. Or at least I hope so.”

  His voice was sharp, commanding. “We have the biggest shipment yet coming in this weekend. Make goddamn sure your girls are ready. And wear your fucking disguise everywhere except the station.”

  There was a long pause. His voice dropped to dangerous level. “Walt, you fuck up again, disobey my exact orders, and you’re gone. One word from me and our friends in the Primo Huelga will make what you did to Beloi look like a fucking Sunday school picnic. And this time, my explicit order will be that they keep you alive until they light the match.”

  Listening to the dial tone, Walt’s stomach heaved. Christ, it was all he could to keep the gorge from coming up. Dragging the soiled handkerchief out of his pants pocket, he mopped off his brow. Wasn’t much he could do about the damp stains under his arms. Looking at the clock, he still had three hours until the end of his shift and four boxes of evidence to catalogue. He needed a drink, bad.

  Chapter 11

  Lexie let the phone ring. She unwound from the end of the sofa, her knees aching at the effort. She turned her head from side to side, then in a slow circle, trying to relieve the stiffness. She hurt everywhere. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes. Didn’t have the have the energy to undress and crawl into bed. Jake’s bed, she reminded herself with a shiver. She dug her cell phone out of the crack between the sofa cushions.

  “Lexie, the autopsy report is ready. I’ll pick you up at ten.”

  Jake’s voice on the message was cool, just a hint of the southern drawl she’d come to savor. None of the hard anger she’d heard yesterday, but not warm or comforting. No, Lexie, girl, she reminded herself, you blew that one. Too bad, she could have used a friend.

  Ten minutes in the shower relieved some of the tight knots in her neck, but did nothing for her throbbing temples. A little food wouldn’t hurt, she thought with a grimace.

  For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine crawling into the big four poster bed with the puffy grey and black duvet. The pillows at the head of the bed were four deep. Inviting. She liked to surround herself with pillows when she slept. It was a habit she’d picked up when she was a little girl. It made her feel safe, protected. The pillows kept the witches under the bed from grabbing her ankles and pulling her down into the underground. When she told Anthony, he didn’t laugh. His ten year old face was serious. “Yeah, Lexie, they try to get me, too.”

  Pulling her wet hair up in a ponytail on the top of her head, she grimaced at her pale face in the mirror. Damn, if her eyes got any bigger, they’d take over her face. Tugging a pair of low rise jeans over her curvy hips, she decided against the belly button ring. Went for her jeweled belt, instead. A cropped t-shirt, her studded jean jacket, and ankle boots were the best she could do. Hugging the jacket close to her, she tried to figure out why she was cold. The thermometer on the outside of the window was pushing 100 degrees. And it wasn’t even nine o’ clock in the morning.

  She huddled in a chair at the kitchen table, watching the minute hand on the clock tick by. Nibbling on a banana, she tried to be indignant that Jake assumed he would pick her up. That she couldn’t drive herself. But then she had to admit, she didn’t know where the hell they were going. She shivered, pulling the jacket tighter around her. She hoped it wasn’t the morgue. She chided herself. Surely, Anthony’s body was long gone from the morgue. She counted on her fingers. Five days. Five days since he’d died. No, he wouldn’t be in the morgue.

  She remembered the first time that she’d been in a morgue. Her aunt insisted that she and Anthony see their mother so they would know that she was dead, that this time she was gone for good. Even at eight years old, Lexie knew. She didn’t need to se
e the emaciated woman on the steel cot with her stringy blond hair, splotchy skin, and the bruised tracks on her skinny arms to know that she was dead. Her aunt’s voice was triumphant. Satisfied. She’d sniffed. “You see, Lexie, it doesn’t matter how pretty you are, this is what happens to women like your mother.” Anthony growled, called her aunt a dirty name. The vicious woman yelled at them all the way down the long hallway, damning them both to hell for their rude behavior.

  When her aunt died in a car accident a year later, Lexie wondered if praying that her aunt would die had done it. Killed her off?

  She hadn’t thought her life could get worse, but it did. She’d stopped praying after that.

  ~~~

  It took several loud clangs of the doorbell and the click of a key turning in the lock to realize that Jake was there. Entering the kitchen, he loomed over her, his brows pulled together in a questioning frown. He squinted at her with a side glance at her barely eaten banana.

  His voice was soft, concerned, a contrast to his large muscled body. “Can I assume that’s the sum total of what you’ve eaten today?” His frown deepened. “Or yesterday?”

  She tossed her head and mumbled, “I…I’m not hungry.”

  Jake waited until she looked up at him. The beginning of a smile quirked his lips, but didn’t dampen the concern in his eyes.

  “Damn good thing I am.”

  He deposited a Starbucks cardboard tray on the table and handed her one of the steaming cups. Opening the paper bag, he took out three fragrant sugar crusted scones. She couldn’t decide which smelled better, the citrusy smell of orange flavored sweet dough or the spicy scent of sandalwood and cologne emanating from the big man crouching by her chair. His steely blue eyes were dark with concern.