by Dana Mentink
He stalked to his car, grateful that a fellow cop had driven it back from Astoria. Exceeding the speed limit and bristling with anger all the way home, he found the place deserted. Even Ellie and the puppies were gone away, getting their next vet checkup. They were probably all giving him a wide berth, knowing how he’d react to Noah’s order. The whole clan was in on it, he was sure. Too angry to sleep, he took a shower, shaved, dressed and ate a container of yogurt without tasting it, followed by a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. In the process of cleaning up, he knocked a mug off the table and it smashed into three neat pieces on the kitchen tile.
Just great. He knew Violet would have laughed in that throaty way that never failed to make him join in. After he cleaned up the shards of porcelain, he flopped on his bed, overwhelmed by the irresistible urge to phone her.
But there was that kiss...and those feelings...and the stomach-dropping roller-coaster sensation when he recalled it all and the way he was having a harder and harder time thinking of her merely as a friend. Instead, he went out and retrieved Eddie and let him up on the sofa, even though they’d agreed as a family that the furniture was solely for people. “You won’t tell, will you?”
Eddie wagged his tail and curled up with Zach on the couch. Again, Zach craved to hear Violet’s voice.
Don’t, he told himself. Not when he could still feel the sparks of their unexpected kiss. But that was behind them, a moment of insanity. It wasn’t love, right? It was okay to phone a friend, wasn’t it? Probably not a good idea at this juncture, but his disobedient fingers dialed anyway. She picked up on the first ring.
“Hi,” he said. “Glad you got your cell phone back.”
“Hi, yourself. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just dropped a coffee mug on the kitchen floor, but fortunately, there’s no one here to witness it.”
She laughed, and it was a sound sweeter than the swish of a three-point shot from half-court. If a broken mug would ease her pain, he’d smash a million of them.
“That’s pretty typical,” she said. “At least it was only one. Why do you sound irritated?”
How could she tell over the phone? “I’m on enforced nap time, if you can believe it. Noah’s got this ridiculous notion that I need rest.”
“Because you pulled an all-nighter in your office?”
His jaw dropped. “How did you know that?”
“Because I know you.”
Yes, she did. Better than anyone in the world. She knew him to the core, but she could not know the strange river of emotions that had begun to run through him when he thought about her. At least he hoped not. Get it together, Zach. “Yeah, well, anyway, it’s humiliating, and I don’t appreciate being double-teamed by my brothers.”
“Do you need me to state the obvious?”
“What?”
“That Noah loves you.” She paused. “That he’s taking care of you the only way he knows how.”
“I can take care of myself,” he said hotly, but her words quenched the flame of his anger and he sighed.
“He lost a brother, too, Zach,” she said quietly. “Caring for you could be helping him heal.”
Helping Noah heal? He didn’t know what to say to that. It had never occurred to him that accepting coddling would help anyone else. Yet hadn’t it made him feel like a superhero to arrange for shoes for Vi? And hadn’t he desperately wanted to cook those eggs for her? But that wasn’t coddling, just...friendliness. “I don’t need any hand-holding from him,” he said finally.
“Or anyone else.”
“Hey, you’re a fine one to talk, Miss Independence.”
“Touché.” She was quiet a moment. “How about a deal?”
“What deal?”
“When this...situation is all over and Beck is caught, we’ll agree to let each other help with one thing.”
“One thing? Like what?”
“Like... I can help you learn to scramble an egg.”
“I don’t need help. I just had a bad day. I’m okay at that.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m insulted.”
“You just need a little tweak, that’s all. Five minutes of help and you’ll be a pro.”
He chuckled. “I’d like to see that on my apron instead of The Incinerator. All right. What do I have to help you with?”
“Perfecting a new recipe for lemon meringue pie. I’ve wanted to make it for my mom’s birthday, and I just can’t get it right. So far I’ve been defeated every time.”
He laughed at that one. “It’s more than likely going to be counterproductive to have me in the kitchen for pie building when I need a tutorial to scramble an egg.”
“I just need a sous-chef and someone to stir the hot custard while I whisk in the eggs. We’ll keep the fire extinguisher handy. Do we have a deal or not, Jameson?”
He sighed, a smile curving his lips as he thought about his wheeling, dealing, don’t-take-no-for-an-answer Violet. As if he had the power to say no to her. “Okay. Deal.”
“Excellent. I will hold you to the bargain.”
“Of that, I’m certain.”
Her giggle was girlish, but it died away quickly. “Um, thank you for the shoes.”
“Do they fit?”
“Perfectly.”
“Do you like them?”
“So much.”
So much. The pleasure at having made her happy was as restorative as a full night’s rest. “Good. I don’t know the first thing about women’s shoes.” He held the phone tighter to his ear. “How are you doing, Vi? Really?”
“I slept a little.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I’m okay,” she said, too quickly. “I talked to Bill’s wife on the phone. That was...hard.”
Excruciating, he imagined.
She continued. “I want to go home and help with Latte and the diner. When will I be allowed to?”
“Soon.”
“Not soon enough. I...I need to be busy.”
It was an admission that she would never have made before, a fragile offering, it seemed to him. Picturing her there, holding the phone, made him desire nothing more than to wrap her in a hug, to feel the tickle of her hair under his chin. His pulse seemed to surge into a higher rhythm.
He shifted on the sofa and added his own. “Yeah, I feel the same way. Work is the only thing that helps.”
“And prayer.”
Rage and prayer were not compatible. Though the rage over his brother’s death had taken a back burner the past week to worrying over Vi, he did not think it would ever abate completely. It left him blind and caught in a place he did not want to be. “I can’t pray right now, so maybe you can do it for us both.” He’d asked her for prayer. Had it really come out of his mouth? There was some relief in it and he knew it was a step, tiny and faltering, toward healing.
“I can, and I do, every day.” Her voice cracked but she quickly composed herself and added brightly, “So go get that nap, would you? And you’d better make sure Eddie is off the sofa before the family comes home.”
“How did you know...?”
She laughed. “Like I said, I know you, Zach Jameson, so get some sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
FIFTEEN
The operation at the furniture store had to be postponed until afternoon, since the place was unexpectedly shut Saturday morning. “Closed until three for a family emergency,” the sign taped to the door stated. Zach wondered if the family emergency had something to do with Beck’s crime spree or the drug seizure at Victor’s apartment, but there was no choice but to wait for afternoon to roll around. At least Violet was back, with a plainclothes cop watching her at all times plus a diner full of officers at any given moment. Beck was insane, but Zach did not think he would come after Violet with so much law enf
orcement around.
Then again, he’d been wrong before about Beck’s boldness.
As the hours ticked away, he drove his family nuts with his incessant motion, shooting hoops, running on the treadmill, shuffling and reshuffling papers, pacing while he checked his cell phone.
Ellie approached him. “Do you want to go outside and play ball, Uncle Zach?”
He sighed. “Your father put you up to this, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He told me you need someone to play with.”
He laughed and tugged her pigtail. “It’s okay, squirt. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“I like to babysit you,” she said. “You’re fun to play with, and you let me have ice cream. You know where Uncle Jordy hides the treats.” She frowned. “I mean, where he hid them.”
She stuck a finger in her mouth. He sank to one knee. “Do you feel sad right now, Ellie?”
She nodded, not looking at him.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay to feel that way.”
She sniffed and looked at him. “Do you feel sad, too? About Uncle Jordy going to Heaven?”
He fought for control. What was the right thing to say to a child when he couldn’t even comfort himself? “I’m glad Uncle Jordy’s in Heaven now, but I sure do feel sad that he can’t be here with us.”
“Do you cry sometimes?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Me, too.” She was thoughtful for a moment. “He was real good at playing ball.”
“Yeah, the best.” He waited for the razor-edged pain in his throat to subside enough for him to talk. “Your idea was super. Let’s go play some catch and find the ice cream. I think there’s still some in the freezer. Your uncle Jordy would want us to have some, wouldn’t he?”
He’d won a smile on that precious face. Thank You, God. Thanking God? Why should he do that? But looking into his niece’s eyes, how could he not? Jordy was gone but there was love here, still here, right before his eyes. How could he feel both love and agony at the same time? Confused, he followed her through the sliding door.
He spent some time playing in the backyard with Ellie and ate frozen ice cream treats with her. He thought Violet might have been proud of him for the way he’d handled things. It surprised him how much he hoped she would be.
Finally, three o’clock rolled around and he clipped on Eddie’s civilian leash and made sure his radio transmitter was functioning. Noah and Carter and two other cops were in position as backup, monitoring from their unmarked vehicles parked in the vicinity of the furniture store.
Zach wore jeans and a baggy sweatshirt to hide the transmitter taped to his side, and his gun. If Beck was inside, he’d be recognized immediately, but so far there had been no sign of the guy. He was pleased to see that Eddie was his usual easygoing self. The dog had been upset at being separated from Zach at the shooting scene and at being brought home by someone other than Zach, and he’d hoped their couch time was enough to ease his mind. Zach could always tell when Eddie was agitated because the dog would chew relentlessly on the door to his kennel. For all his amazing law-enforcement capabilities, Eddie was a sensitive dog who had been treated cruelly in his puppy years.
While they had waited for the hours to slip by, Zach had spent a little extra time playing ball with Eddie and brushing his coat until the dog’s eyes rolled with satisfaction, which restored him to normal. Now he was relaxed and eager to see what the next mission would dole out.
“All right, buddy. Here we go.” Zach walked Eddie down the street and into the furniture store.
“Sir,” a red-shirted man said right away. He was thin, so thin his polo shirt hung loose on his lanky frame. His name tag read Hugo. “I’m sorry, but we don’t allow dogs in here,” Hugo said.
Zach offered a smile. “It will only take a few minutes. Eddie is really well trained.”
The man looked doubtful.
“I mean, I don’t shop anywhere without my dog, and I really need to make a purchase quick.”
“Well...” Hugo said. His eyes rolled in thought as he weighed the cost of breaking the rules against a potential lost commission.
“It’s just that I really need a new sofa because Eddie here likes to chew, and he mangled mine. I don’t have much time to find one. I was really hoping to make a purchase today.”
Zach could see Hugo’s eyes light up at the prospect of a quick sale. Decision made. “I guess it’s all right, as long as he doesn’t chew any of these sofas.”
Zach made small talk, asked some questions and waited for his opportunity. When Hugo went to answer the phone, Zach bent down and patted Eddie. “Find the drugs, boy.”
Then he and Eddie wandered through the displayed furniture groupings. Eddie was uninterested until they made their way closer to the back of the store, crowded with massive wardrobes, towering bookshelves and coffee tables scattered about. Eddie began to tug at the leash. Zach feigned interest in the table with oak leaves carved into the wooden legs on which Eddie was fixated.
The salesman hurried over.
“You know,” Zach said. “This table would look great in my den. How much are you asking for it?”
Hugo fiddled with his pen. “I’m very sorry, sir. That piece has been purchased.”
“I don’t see a sold sign anywhere on it.”
“An oversight on our part. It was sold a few minutes ago.”
Zach noticed a bead of sweat trickle down the man’s temple. “Really? I thought you just opened up shop for the day.”
“Uh, well, perhaps it was yesterday, but it’s sold, for sure.”
Zach frowned. “But I really like this table.” Eddie nosed excitedly at one of the wooden legs. “My dog does, too.”
Hugo’s manner became even sunnier. “We have some similar pieces that I am certain you’ll like. Or I’m happy to show you a catalog. We can even have custom pieces made with enough lead time.”
“Naw, it has to be this table,” Zach pressed. “I’ll offer more than your current buyer.”
Now the man was swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Another man appeared, black-haired and clean-shaven, wearing a nice suit. He must have been listening to the conversation from the back room. His arms were muscled under the sleeves, neck thick, like he’d seen the inside of a boxing ring a time or two. Zach eased back on his feet just enough, just in case.
“Sir,” the burly guy said. “I’m sorry. It would be unethical for us to resell this table to you when it’s already been spoken for. I’m sure you understand.” His jacket was buttoned and Zach would not have been surprised to know he had a gun hidden underneath. Casually, Zach loosened his hold on the leash, ready in case he needed to draw his own weapon. Adrenaline began to pump through his veins, but he kept his demeanor calm, relaxed. He flashed a smile. “Oh, come on. I know there has to be something you can do. Everyone has a price.” Eddie tried to sniff around the big guy’s legs, to get at the table behind him.
“No,” the jacketed guy said coldly. “But if there’s nothing else you’re interested in, I’ll have to ask you to leave. We don’t allow animals in our store.”
Eddie was oblivious to the conversation. He whined, circled three times and sat, staring at Zach.
I know, buddy. Play it cool.
Zach feigned insult. “Fine. If I can’t have the table, I don’t want a sofa, either. I’ll take my business elsewhere. Plenty of other shops around.”
“Very sorry we couldn’t help you. Have a good day, sir,” the nervous salesperson called as Zach left. The other man did not say a word, but Zach could feel a cold stare boring into his back.
As they headed for the entrance, Eddie whined and tugged at the leash, loath to leave his find. By sheer force of will, Zach got him out of the store and radioed Noah.
“Did you copy that? Eddie alerted.”
“W
e’re already processing a search warrant. We’ll have it here within the hour,” Noah said.
“Back door?”
“Covered. Carter’s there with Frosty, keeping watch. We’ll eyeball the front. Nothing’s gonna leave that place without us knowing.”
Zach’s nerves were still zinging as he guided Eddie to a quiet spot on the sidewalk and gave him a treat. Eddie accepted his prize, dropping it on the sidewalk to lick it properly before he chewed. “You did a good job, baby. We’ll make the bust. Just gotta wait a while.” He got a tail wag and a yip in reply.
He walked Eddie around the block, where he found Carter and Frosty in Carter’s car. Without asking, he got in the front, Eddie scrambling onto his lap. Frosty barked.
“Deal with it, dog,” Zach said.
Carter grinned. “Still crabby that we cut you out of the action for a while?”
“Crabby doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“Sorry, man.”
“But not too sorry, right?”
“Well, it was fun to mess with you, I’ll admit.”
Carter straightened as a door opened in the back of the furniture store. “Who’s that?”
Exiting the store from the rear was a figure muffled in a coat and knit cap. Zach didn’t have to see the face to know the guy. “It’s Victor Jones, the guy we got on airport security camera. Bill got him through security a couple of days before the thing went down with Beck. He must have been inside the store somewhere. They figured out what was going down and they’re using him to move the drugs before we execute the search warrant.”
Jones looked up, saw Carter and Zach staring at him and took off, sprinting down the alley between the furniture store and the warehouse to the rear. Carter called for backup and turned to Zach. “Frosty can run him down. Cut him off at the end of the alley.” He leaped from the car and took off on foot, Frosty galloping along beside him.
Zach raced around to the driver’s seat, slammed Carter’s vehicle into gear and burned out of the parking place, sirens wailing, until he reached the other end of the alley. Braking hard, he lurched the car to a stop. Leaving Eddie inside, he pulled his weapon and charged into the alley. He surged forward, avoiding the patches slick with oil, his nerves electric with anticipation.