Naked Truth

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  He pressed tightly against her. The hard length of him was distracting and enticing. She slid her hand down the muscles of his back. He shrugged out of his dress coat and tossed it to the floor before delving his fingers through her hair to press her head back against his for another blistering kiss.

  She was dimly aware of the door opening behind them and someone picking the jacket up and dusting it off.

  “Uh, Drake?” Pam whispered when he brought his mouth up to nibble again on her ear.

  “Yeah?” he said, pressing closer so she could feel the burning heat of him prodding against her stomach. He lifted her up and sat her on the counter.

  She turned her head and whispered in his ear, “We have an audience.”

  Marishka straightened from the doorway and gave Drake an arch look. “The roasts better not be dry.”

  Chapter Eight

  Her body had stopped humming, even though Pam was still wet and needy. What she wouldn’t give to sneak out the back with Drake and make out some more in his squad car. Her fingers were itching to wrap around him and see if she could drive him as crazy as he was driving her.

  But after a few hours of being led around the wake, Pam felt she must’ve drunk about half a bottle of vodka in total. She was hugged and kissed and plied with more alcohol as he introduced her to Nikolai’s friends and family. Some people she remembered from her brief time in the neighborhood. Some remembered her and her family. She saw it when they avoided her eyes and moved quickly away.

  “Her father was quite the gambler.”

  “Is her brother still in jail?”

  “Her mother kept a nice house, when they had one.”

  Muffled titters accompanied that statement, and Pam swiveled her head to find the culprits. She held on to Drake’s arm when the floor tilted. It steadied when she closed one eye. Now she knew why pirates wore an eye patch.

  Pam guessed it was too much to hope that enough time had passed. Her family had made its mark on the neighborhood. Safe in her vodka-induced haven, she held her head up high for once. She was not the same girl who had lived on the beach or in the park during the summer. Or slept at friends’ houses when she could in the winter. She was sure Oksana had reminded everyone in this room who she was—or, at least, those who had been around to see her family lose everything. Well, she was back.

  Pam was also drunk. But that was beside the point. She had a job she loved, and she helped people. She used her psychology degrees, along with homeopathic treatments, for maximum results. Pam felt herself swagger a bit and smiled drunkenly at her new friends, but the whispers kept hounding her.

  “I wonder how she paid for her education?”

  “All it takes is a long shot paying off at the doggies.”

  “Her father was more a ponies man.”

  Each time she tried to catch Stefan’s eye, however, either Oksana or Drake pulled her away. She was beginning to suspect a conspiracy. After the blistering kiss in the kitchen, Pam was a little embarrassed at herself. She spent a lot of time leaning her head against Drake’s shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  She was shaking his partner’s hand, a nice man named Mark something-Irish, when gunfire shattered the bar’s front windows. Things happened so fast, but in her half-inebriated state, it seemed like a movie in slow motion.

  The roar of the bullets deafened her. Glass and pieces of wood flew through the air. People screamed. Blood sprayed over her. Drake pushed her down and pulled his own gun. Mark stayed low and headed to the front of the bar, using the tables and chairs as cover.

  She saw a Humvee pull up and the muzzle flash of automatic weapons from inside the large truck when more bullets tore up the front of the bar area. Puffs of upholstery and bottles breaking filled the air. Loud booms of heavy-caliber pistols answered the automatic weapons.

  Not again. A flashback hit her, and she wasn’t sure where she was. For an excruciating moment, she was back at the jai alai fronton with her dad when the mobsters tried to get the money he owed them. Pam tried to push herself up. Her dad had told her to run. Her father’s “cookies” would hurt her if they caught her.

  “Bookies,” Pam said. She wasn’t eight years old anymore. And she didn’t owe money to anyone.

  If she could only see who was shooting, maybe she could help. Tackled back down to the floor, she recognized Andrej’s gruff voice in her ear as his bulk knocked the wind out of her.

  “Stay down.”

  It was pandemonium, with running feet and gunfire. She couldn’t breathe. My asthma. She panicked and clawed out from under Andrej.

  “Incoming,” Drake yelled.

  A large explosion rocked the front of the bar, and debris littered down from the ceiling. A beautiful crystal chandelier hit the floor, shattering ice-cube-sized crystals over everyone.

  Drake! Pam would have screamed, but there wasn’t any air. She must have dropped her purse. She crawled around looking for it, trying vainly to get breath in.

  “He’s not hurt. Let him do his job without having to worry about you,” Andrej said.

  Pam saw her purse lying open, and she lunged for it. Luckily, her inhaler hadn’t been crushed. She forced herself to lie on her side and took two quick puffs.

  There was crying and broken glass. Oksana snarled orders at a bunch of men.

  “You, get out there! You, get them. You, show them the meaning of respect!” Blood covered half her face as a gash in her scalp dripped down her forehead.

  Stefan sat in a daze on the floor but looked unharmed. Slowly, Pam’s breathing returned to normal. There were a few more gunshots as a group of Oksana’s men filed out of the bar. They got into a car and tore off down the street. Her eyes closed as a part of her wanted oblivion.

  “Pam!”

  Andrej was shaking her shoulder. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The gunfire had stopped, and the Tasting Room seemed mostly empty.

  “I’m awake. I wasn’t hit.”

  “Can you stand? Or do you need a few moments?”

  Pam let Andrej help her to her feet. She was unsteady, and her head pounded like someone was inside it firing off rockets.

  “You,” Oksana screeched. “This is all your fault.”

  The din in the room quieted as everyone looked to where Oksana was pointing. Pam shook her head when she realized Oksana had singled her out.

  “That’s enough,” roared Drake.

  He had his service pistol out and was climbing over people and debris. Mark was behind him, talking on a cell phone. Pam noticed Drake’s sunglasses were gone, and his eyes were an angry shade of green. Recognition tickled at the back of her head. She had seen him before. Was it just when they were kids?

  “Who were those men?” Drake asked.

  “Ask your girlfriend,” Marishka said, coming out of the back with a shotgun. “She’s got connections.”

  Pam flinched. Oh no. Not again. It didn’t have to be Darren. She hadn’t spoken to her brother in over ten years. As far as she knew, he had taken the drugs and run far away.

  “Put that away. They’re gone,” Drake said.

  “First, they take apart Nikolai’s house. They kill him when they can’t find it. Then they attack here,” Oksana said.

  “Who?” Drake snarled. “What were they looking for?”

  “You figure it out, Mr. Tough Cop.”

  “You can answer me now, or I will cuff you and haul you into the station myself.”

  Oksana reared back as if he’d slapped her. “I will sue.”

  “I’ll add resisting arrest to the charges, and you’ll still sit the night in jail.”

  “What are we paying protection for if you can’t provide it?” Marishka said.

  But when Drake whirled around to look at the chef, she was staring hard out the door. “Who are you paying protection to?” he asked.

  Marishka just shook her head as tears streamed down her face. Sirens blared in the distance. People started filing out the door. Others were clutching ea
ch other and waiting for the ambulance.

  Andrej brushed some debris off Pam.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said.

  “Let’s go, Mama,” Stefan said and pulled Oksana’s arm toward the door.

  “I’m going to need you to hang around for the uniforms to take a statement,” Mark said, pocketing his phone.

  “I am going home. You know where to find me if you want to talk. If you want to stop me, I’ll give you a case of resisting arrest that they’ll be laughing about for the next ten years.”

  “We’ll be by later,” Mark said, with a wary eye on Drake, who looked like he was prepared to haul her away despite the threat.

  “You can talk to my lawyer,” she said, slapping at her son’s hands when he tugged her toward the door.

  “Come on, Pammy. I’ll take you home,” Stefan said over his shoulder.

  “Not in my car, you won’t,” Oksana shrieked.

  Stefan gave Pam an apologetic shrug and followed her out.

  Pam swayed on her feet. The adrenaline had pushed the mellow buzz right into hangover territory. She didn’t think she could drive, but she didn’t want to stay here either. Somehow, she figured she’d have to give her statement to the uniforms, and unlike Oksana, she didn’t have it in her to make a fuss. Andrej guided her to a booth that had managed to escape with just a few bullet holes. She slid into it gratefully and rested her head on her hand. Her chest was tight and raw from the asthma attack. Taking another hit off the inhaler, she looked around.

  The beautiful bar was riddled with bullets. Glass from the main windows and doors had blown into the Tasting Room. Furniture was ripped apart. Blood stained the marble floor and wallpaper. In the same half daze, Pam watched the ambulances pull up and the paramedics do their thing. She got to watch Drake and Mark in action as they divvied up the uniformed officers for various tasks. Drake kept looking over at where she was sitting, as if to make sure she wasn’t going to make a break for it like Oksana had.

  After another hour or so, the moment Pam had been dreading came about. Mark stepped up to Drake and showed him something on his smartphone. Pam saw Drake’s jaw clench, and he shot her a terrible glare. So now he knew all about her family. His eyes were so intense that she flinched as trepidation danced along her nerve endings.

  Drake could choose to splash the information all over the news media and ruin her practice at Harding General. They’d never keep her on once they realized who her brother was and what he had done. When Drake came toward her, she noticed he had a slight limp.

  And it hit her. Drake is Ralphie. She should have figured it out before now. The clues were right there. How Drake had known so much about her. How he kept reminding her of Ralphie.

  “I’m going to take you home,” he said, but his soft tone belied the anger in his eyes.

  “What about my car?”

  “I’ll drive it. Mark can pick me up later. You and I have some things to talk about.”

  “I’ll say.” Pam slid out of the booth and clung to his arm when she wobbled. “I’d like to say good-bye to Andrej.”

  “He and Marishka are busy right now. I’ll let him know.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” It was a little surreal to crunch over the remains of Nikolai’s place.

  Drake flashed his badge and held on tight to her arm as they walked down the block to her car.

  “I’m probably sober enough to drive,” she said. “It’s been a few hours. A few awful hours.”

  “‘Probably’ isn’t good enough.”

  “You had as much to drink as I did.”

  “I outweigh you by a good seventy pounds.”

  Pam sighed and decided to choose her battles. She let him open the car door for her, and she slid into the passenger seat. After adjusting the driver’s seat and the mirror, he pulled away from the curb. He headed toward her apartment without asking where she lived.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you home. Don’t even think about asking me to drop you off at the hospital.”

  “How do you know where I live?”

  Drake waggled his fingers at her. “Hello, I’m a detective.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” she said in the awkward silence that followed.

  He sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me that your brother was vor v zakone?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you moonlight as a bum?”

  He didn’t even flinch or try to deny it. “When you met me, I was undercover. Something I need to get back to very soon.”

  “Does it involve the hospital?”

  “I can’t discuss my case with you.”

  “Do you think it had something to do with Nikolai?”

  “What part of ‘I can’t talk about it’ are you missing?” His tone was mild, but Pam felt slapped.

  She stared out the window and watched the other cars pass by.

  “Well?” Drake said.

  “Well, what?”

  “This is where you tell me about Dmitry.”

  “His name is Darren.”

  “He goes by Dmitry.”

  “Not to me, he doesn’t,” Pam snapped.

  “Fair enough. He just got paroled a few months ago. Have you been in touch with him?”

  Pam shook her head. “The last time I spoke with him was the day he went to jail.”

  “He was the wheelman for a bank heist.”

  “That sounds rather romantic and Hollywood. But yeah, he drove the car right into a police blockade, and instead of busting through the cars, he wound up crashing it. He was eighteen.”

  “He got charged with possession of narcotics, an unregistered firearm, and, of course, stolen property.”

  “I’m wondering why they didn’t charge him with resisting arrest too.”

  “He was knocked unconscious. Otherwise, they probably would have. You sound defensive. You think he was innocent?”

  Pam arched an eyebrow in his direction. “No. That would be my parents’ very blinder-enhanced opinion. ‘He was framed. He fell in with the wrong crowd. He was just driving the car. ’ Bull. He knew what he was doing, and he did it anyway.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me?”

  “At what point? When we were standing at Nikolai’s grave site, or when your tongue was in my mouth?”

  Drake shot her a dirty look. “He was the crook who was helping Dr. Mastandrea steal drugs from the hospital.”

  “There has to be some mistake.”

  “You and I both saw him. Now who has the blinders on?”

  “Are you going to arrest him?” Pam rubbed a stain on her skirt with her fingers. It looked like wine. She hoped it was wine.

  “Oh yes, you bet I am. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just been a really bad day, you know?” Pam hid the sob with a cough.

  Drake pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. “I guess you have a point. It’s been a pretty bad day all around. How about I walk you up to your apartment, snag a kiss good night, and we can figure out where to go from here tomorrow?”

  Pam rubbed the throbbing pain between her eyes. “You don’t have to walk me up. I can manage.”

  “I insist. And I meant it about the kiss. Unless you’re mad at me about Ralphie?”

  “I’m not mad. I am still sorry for kicking you.”

  “Me too, but I think the Reiki helped.”

  “Are you just saying that to get into my pants?”

  “Would that work?” Drake grinned at her.

  “You’ve got amazing eyes,” she said. “No wonder you hid them behind glasses when you didn’t want me to recognize you as Ralphie.”

  “I’m no longer your patient. So there isn’t that area of conflict between us.”

  “There’s still the ‘I’m going to arrest your brother’ thing, but as he’s a felon and probably selling drugs, I’m going to cut you some slack on that,” she said.

  “I appreciate that.” He
leaned in.

  She pushed him back. “That doesn’t mean I think it’s a good idea to play tonsil hockey in the front seat of my car.”

  “We can go inside,” Drake said.

  “Why are you so keen to kiss me? Aren’t you upset that my family has mob connections?”

  “I want to kiss you, not your family. Think of it as doing community service.”

  “How is kissing you community service?”

  “I’ve got to spend the rest of the night with the FBI and questioning witnesses. I want something pleasant to think about.”

  “Pleasant?” Pam said. “That sounds a little bland.”

  Drake leaned in again, and she felt the hairs on her neck stand up. “I don’t have time for anything else.”

  She got out of the car before she did something reckless, like kiss him again. It would be just her luck to be caught by one of her neighbors necking in the car. They didn’t speak on the elevator ride up. She was mostly sure he was fooling around about wanting a kiss, playing good-cop mental games on her to make sure she’d cooperate in his investigation. But there was a part of her that was hoping he had been serious. It had been a while since she took time for intimacy. Kissing the handsome detective might even lead to something more serious.

  Pam was searching through her purse for a breath mint when the elevator doors opened. Drake’s sharp curse caused her to look up. The door to her apartment was open.

  Chapter Nine

  Drake hauled her back into the elevator. “Stay here a minute.” He took out his cell phone. “Yeah, I got a possible break-in at Pam Krupin’s apartment. Send a car around.” After giving them the address, he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I need you to go down to the lobby and let them in.”

  “What are you going to do?” she said.

  “I’m going to look around and make sure that there’s nobody still in there.”

  “What if it’s Darren?”

  “I’m not going to start anything.”

  “Don’t hurt him.”

  “I’ll play nice if he will.” Drake leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. She tasted like expensive vodka. He tried for another one, but she pulled back. “Just in case I don’t get another chance tonight.”