Edge of Darkness

by Barker, Freya

  “Nowak invested in the development, got Pro Concrete on board. Woodard swore he didn’t know about the bodies until they were excavating for the community center foundation and hit on those bones.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute,” I comment. It all sounds very self-serving to me.

  “Neither does anyone else. He says Nowak was there to keep an eye out while he poured. Says he did see Lansing—the project coordinator—arrive but that he and Nowak walked off to the site office. He has no idea what happened after.”

  “Or so he says.”

  “Exactly. At least it was enough case for the FBI to talk to Nowak. They’re trying to locate him.”

  “And Dani? Her body was buried there after the development was well underway. Did he say anything about her?”

  I already know the answer to that from the regret on Ramirez face. “No mention of her.”

  “So you figure it was him up in Telluride? Nowak?”

  “Doubtful. Not so sure he’d take chances like that. More likely some hired muscle. The man is rich as Croesus.” Right. A man like that wouldn’t get his hands dirty if he could avoid it. “Anyway,” Tony says, standing up. “I should head out. Shit to do. I’ll let you know if I find out more. Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Oh, before I forget, do you know if Luna found a shoebox up in Telluride? I left it on the seat in the coffee shop when I took off after Tammy. It holds some of Dani’s things I’d like to have.”

  “As far as I know she’s still up there, but I’ll get word to her.”

  I walk with him to the front door.

  “Appreciate you dropping by,” I tell him as he opens the door.

  “Elizabeth?”

  I freeze at the sound of my father’s voice.

  I see the big hulking shape of my father outside my door when Tony takes a step aside.

  “Dad.”

  “Hear you got yourself shot.” My father has a way of looking down his nose at me like I’m something smelly stuck under his shoe.

  “I didn’t exactly volunteer for it, and hello to you too.” I turn to Ramirez, who is observing the interaction closely. “It’s all good, Tony. Just my father.”

  “Sure?”

  “Positive.”

  He nods, gives my dad one more glance, and steps by him.

  “Might as well come in.” Not much of an invitation, but my father doesn’t really need one. He’ll do what he wants anyway, and unfortunately for me, today he apparently wants a go at me. “I’m popular these days. Not a peep for months and then suddenly Peter shows up on my doorstep and now you.”

  It was my father who taught me that offense is the best defense. He knocked me off balance by showing up unannounced, so to balance the scales I make sure I get the first jab in. If I show weakness he’ll pounce on it.

  “That one another boyfriend? Your brother says the last one looked like he walked straight out of lockup. This guy seems a little too clean cut. Trading up?”

  “I’m doing well, Dad, how are you?” I know I’m just pissing him off by not reacting to his digs, but I’ll be damned if I let myself be played.

  “Well, since I had to find out through the grapevine my daughter got shot, instead of hearing it from her, I’d say not well. I’ll have a word with your chief of police as well. I should’ve been notified immediately.”

  “Actually, no, you shouldn’t. Not calling you was my choice to make.”

  Behind my father the door swings open, and Yuma comes stalking in. Fucking Ramirez, I’m sure. He doesn’t even acknowledge my dad but walks right up to me, putting his hands either side of my face.

  “You okay, Babe?”

  “I’m fine, honey.”

  “Want me to put him out?” he asks, and I almost laugh out loud at the disgruntled sound coming from my father.

  “It’s okay,” I assure him before turning to my dad. “So why are you here, Dad? Why was Peter here? What’s this sudden interest in my well-being?”

  Yuma

  It wasn’t hard to see the family resemblance. Even from behind, I noticed the similar build. The gray hair gave away this had to be Bucco senior, but I didn’t give the man the satisfaction of my attention and instead aimed for Lissie. She looked calm, though, almost resigned at his presence and I was happy to leave her the lead.

  When I turn to face him, the glare he had fixed on me turns to his daughter at her question.

  “You’re my daughter,” he says, like that should answer her questions.

  “Have been my whole life, Dad, although I haven’t always been sure you were aware of that fact.”

  I have to say, if the man is an actor, he’s a damn good one because the surprise at her comment seems genuine.

  “Of course I have been. I was worried about you.”

  “Well, as you can see, I’m doing fine. Or I will be as soon as I get rid of this thing,” she says, pointing at her sling.

  “You could’ve died.” The words come out gruffly.

  They’re probably as different as two people can be, but I’m realizing there’s a strong similarity between Lissie’s father and my own. Men who have a certain view of the world and don’t handle anything or anyone veering from that perspective particularly well. Being on the receiving end of their displeasure, it doesn’t feel like they care, but as I’ve discovered since Momma died, my father cares, he just has a piss-poor way of showing it. It may just be Lissie’s father cares too.

  “I didn’t, Dad,” she says gently, and I wonder if she’s just come to that realization as well.

  I feel her leaning into me. Something her father notices as well.

  “Take the load off, Babe, before you hit the ground. You’re swaying on your feet.” She doesn’t object when I lead her to the loveseat.

  “And who are you?” her father asks sharply.

  Lissie opens her mouth, but I give her shoulder a squeeze before holding my hand out to him. My natural instinct would be to make some smartass comment at his arrogant tone, but I didn’t miss that glimpse of vulnerability earlier, so instead I step out of my own comfort zone and hold out my hand.

  “James Wells.”

  He hesitates for a moment, but then he grabs it in a firm shake.

  “Robert Bucco.”

  “Coffee, Robert?”

  I have to give him credit for checking his daughter before he answers. She forces a little smile for him.

  “Sure.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, conversation is a bit stilted. Lissie asks about her nephews—apparently the older brother has two boys—and her father questions me. I can’t fault him for that. If I ever have a daughter like Lissie, I’d be up one end and down the other of any guy looking at her twice. So I answer questions about my work, my club, and my criminal record honestly, albeit with gritted teeth.

  Lissie had a positive impact on my relationship with Nosh. The least I can do is try not to mess up hers with her father.

  “I have to get back on the road,” he announces as he gets up. “Think you could let me know how you’re doing every so often?” I notice Lissie going rigid at his sharp tone.

  “Absolutely,” she snaps back. “I’ll make sure to answer when you call.” Lobbing the ball right back in his court.

  Robert nods at her stiffly, having received her message loud and clear and without sparing me another glance, walks out the door. We watch until he gets in his car and drives off the parking lot. Then she shuts the door and turns to me; the smile on her face soft and her eyes damp.

  “Thank you for doing that.”

  “Dunno what you’re talking about,” I lie.

  Her smile only stretches wider.

  “Right. Well, then thanks for being you.”

  “Don’t have to thank me for that.” I lower my head and brush her lips. “But I’d better go check on my pipes.”

  “You make it sound so dirty.”

  I grin at her snicker.

  “Hold that thought until you’ve recovere
d. I have every intention of showing you how dirty my mind really is when it comes to you.”

  “Promise?”

  I groan, dropping my forehead to hers. “You’re making me hard and I have a plumber waiting.”

  “Go,” she says with a gentle slap on my chest. “Go fix your pipes.”

  “Okay. You want to stay here tonight or go to the clubhouse?”

  “Stay here tonight, clubhouse tomorrow?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll cook us dinner.”

  I kiss her again before opening the door.

  “James?”

  I glance back over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Love you too.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Lissie

  “CAN I HELP?”

  Lisa is working in the large kitchen when I walk in.

  “With one hand?” she points out, smiling.

  She’s got a point. I have use of my right hand, but it’s a little difficult to, say, peel potatoes one-handedly. I sit down at the large kitchen table.

  I just spent the last hour watching a movie with Kiara, who fell asleep on the couch, and I’m bored.

  This morning started early when I woke up, my shoulder throbbing. Yuma offered to get me pain pills, but I don’t like taking them. I’m terrified I’ll get hooked on them. They say once an addict, always an addict. The last thing I need is replacing one addiction with another. He seemed to understand, and instead of meds found another creative way to distract me from the pain, with his mouth between my legs.

  I wanted to return the favor, but he insisted he could wait until I felt better. Then he cuddled up to my good side and we dozed off and on until eight.

  After he made me some breakfast, we headed out to the clubhouse, but he took off shortly after with his father and Wapi to pick up new flooring for Nosh’s house. Apparently the painting is all done, and ripping out the old carpet is next on his list of things to improve. He’s been talking about updating the kitchen and the bathrooms as well. By the time he’s done fixing up the house, it’ll be virtually new. He hasn’t mentioned anything to Lisa yet, though. I’m wondering when he’s planning on doing that.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore, and annoyed I can’t do much. I’m not used to sitting still.”

  “I can imagine. How long are you supposed to wear the sling?”

  “I have a checkup in a couple of days, I’m hoping it can come off then.”

  Lisa turns to me, her face serious.

  “You were very lucky,” she states solemnly.

  “I know.”

  “Do they have any idea who did this?”

  I shrug. “Not as far as I know. I wasn’t much help. I was just turning when the round hit me and I went down. There were witnesses, but as far as I know, all they saw was the truck and that turned out to be stolen so it was a dead end.”

  Lisa is about to say something when Trunk walks in with one of the young boys.

  “Can I leave the boy with you?” he asks Lisa after mumbling a greeting. “I’ve gotta head into town.”

  “Sure. You hungry, Thomas?”

  The kid just nods.

  “Use your words, boy,” Trunk admonishes him.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he quickly corrects himself, before sitting down at the table across from me.

  Lisa washes her hands as Trunk heads out the door with a distracted flick of his fingers. He clearly has things on his mind.

  “Grilled cheese, Thomas?”

  “Yes, please,” he answers politely.

  “Let me do that,” I offer, getting up.

  “If you don’t mind?”

  I shake my head, happy for something to do.

  “Thomas, have you ever had grilled cheese with mustard?” I look over at him and am surprised when he nods his head. “You have?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s good.”

  “It’s my favorite too. You want one, Lisa?” I dive into the huge fridge to get what I need.

  “Sure. I’ll give it a try. Never had it before.”

  “So, Thomas, how come you’re not in school like the other kids today?” I ask, putting the sandwiches together while Lisa sets a big frying pan on a burner. When the boy doesn’t answer, I turn to look at him. His head is down. “Thomas?”

  “I got in trouble this morning.” His voice is barely audible.

  “Oh, no. What happened?”

  His eyes dart to Lisa’s back and then return to me. “Called Ezrah a bad word.”

  Lisa catches my eye and lifts an eyebrow before turning back to the mountain of vegetables she’s chopping. She must already know about it.

  “That’s never a good idea.”

  “Mr. Trunk said I can’t say the n-word no more.”

  Yikes.

  “That’s not a good word, Thomas. Calling someone names is never a good idea.”

  “I know,” he whispers, his head down.

  I feel for the kid. I know he’s been indoctrinated into thinking a certain way and must be confused as all get out with the mixed messages he’s getting from grown-ups. I imagine it’ll be hard for him to trust anyone. I really hope they’re able to find the parents or at least family for these boys. People who can love them and help them recover, although I’m sure for some of them too much damage may have been done already. Thomas is still young, though, so there’s hope for him.

  I wish I had more experience with children, but other than my nephews on occasion, I haven’t had much exposure.

  When the grilled cheese sandwiches are done, I slide one in front of Thomas and lightly ruffle his blond hair.

  “Want something to drink, kiddo?”

  “Milk, please,” he says in that soft voice. His eyes stare up at me slightly bewildered, and I wonder how much affection he’s been shown in his life.

  “You’ve got it.”

  “This is good,” Lisa mumbles around a bite.

  “Right?”

  I end up making half a dozen more when a few of the guys come wandering in. Including Brick, who walks in carrying a sleepy Kiara on his arm. I notice a few looks Lisa is shooting in his direction when he sits down with Kiara slumped on his lap, coaxing her to eat something.

  Brick, Tse, the two kids, and I are still sitting at the kitchen table—chatting with Lisa who is busy at the stove—when Yuma comes looking for me half an hour later. He walks straight to my chair and I have to lean my head back to look at him, which he takes as an opportunity to kiss me soundly. Kiara starts giggling as Tse makes loud gagging noises, and Brick complains we should get a room. When Yuma lets me up for air and smacks the back of Tse’s head, I glance over at Thomas, who looks on with some curiosity. Again I wonder about what he has missed out on in his young life. He’s clearly not familiar, or particularly comfortable, with displays of tenderness.

  “Nosh wanted me to come get you. He needs your opinion on something.” Yuma’s statement is paired with a meaningful look I guess is in warning. So instead of asking any questions, I grab on to his offered hand and let him pull me up.

  “Later, guys. See you, Thomas.” I pull my hand from Yuma’s and ruffle the boy’s hair again.

  “What was that all about?” Yuma asks when we walk outside.

  “I don’t think he’s had much love in his life.”

  “Safe to say he hasn’t had any. At least not while in the care—and I use that term loosely—of Hinckle and the ANL.”

  “Have either of the boys talked about how they ended up there?”

  “Not much, as far as I know. Only revealing thing Thomas mentioned was that comment to Kiara that mothers end up in the ground.”

  The thought any of those boys were exposed to such cruelty turns my stomach.

  “That’s just wrong.”

  “Everything about it is wrong, baby.”

  Yuma

  “I like that one.”

  Lissie points at the octagonal slate tile and Wapi looks triumphant.

  We all agreed
on an engineered hardwood for the living areas and the bedrooms, both for durability and clean look, but we apparently had very different ideas about tiling for the bathrooms.

  The slate had been Wapi’s choice. I’d picked a woodgrain tile and Nosh chose a plain white square. It took Lissie all of one second to pick her favorite.

  “Go pick them up,” Nosh signs.

  “Now?” I get a raised eyebrow in response. “I’ll pick them up tomorrow morning. Don’t feel like going out again.”

  He harrumphs and dismisses me with an irritated wave of his hand.

  “What’s wrong?” Lissie asks quietly.

  “My dad’s way of stomping his foot. He wants me to go back to the store for the tile right away. I told him I’d go tomorrow. He doesn’t like waiting.”

  She presses her lips together but can barely keep her smile contained. Even with Nosh glaring at us, she steps up to him so he can read her lips.

  “First thing tomorrow morning,” she promises him. “I can call the store now and have the tiles put aside. Okay?”

  I get a glare, he sends over her shoulder, before the old bastard turns a much more benevolent look at Lissie and nods. She’s got my old man wrapped around her little finger and she knows it. She prompts him to write down how much he needs and walks into the kitchen to make the call.

  “Are we gonna get going ripping this carpet out?” Wapi wants to know.

  “Have at it. Bedrooms first, I’ll be right up.”

  As soon as Wapi heads upstairs I turn to Nosh.

  “I love her.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” he shoots back at me. I stop him when he’s about to sign something else. I’m pretty sure I know what it is.

  “I’m well aware I don’t deserve her, and I don’t fucking care. I want to ask her to move in with me.”

  “In that small apartment?”

  “No, of course not. My house.”

  Nosh rolls his eyes.

  “About time you get that pigsty cleaned then, isn’t it?”

  Shit. Yes, it is. I’ve been meaning to do that.

  “I will.”

  “And for the record: I was about to say I think you’re perfect for each other.”