His Light in the Dark

by L. A. Fiore

  Walking around the corner, I saw the valets were busy at the Taproom. I definitely would not want to be a valet in South Philly. Kevin’s ridiculously expensive car pulled up as I approached. I wasn’t aware that private investigators made so much money, but the man dressed in very fine threads even down to his watch and cufflinks. Watching as he climbed from his car, I couldn’t help the shiver that worked down my spine. There was just something about him that put me on edge. Perhaps it wasn’t so very wise of me to continue any kind of relationship with him. He didn’t look at the boy who took his keys and yet I knew the directive that not a scratch had been issued, and in a menacing tone, since he had stated those same very words every time he parked valet. He didn’t look around at his surroundings and instead gave off the air that he was the one people sought to observe. As if he was God’s greatest gift to the world. I’m not sure why I hadn’t noticed that when we were dating; I’m guessing because he reminded me of a chameleon: acting exactly how the situation required. Now that we were no longer dating, he didn’t see the need to keep up the pretense.

  I physically felt when his focus shifted to me, my body tensed. It was like that sixth sense that called out all the stops to say, Yo, Mia, wake up! This dude is a loser.

  I braced for his kiss, it would be slightly moist and always right on my mouth. It was another way he sought to control the situation, ignoring my cheek and going for the mouth.

  “Are you coming from work?”

  There it was, the subtle dig that I wasn’t looking as dolled up as I should for a dinner out with him. Suddenly I was thinking about excusing myself to the ladies room and then ditching him and going to Vincent’s instead, but the scents coming from the Taproom kept me from doing so. I pasted on a fake smile.

  “Yeah, I had to work late. You look wonderful.” A lie, but it shifted his attention back to him.

  His hand settled on my lower back—I usually loved when a man touched me there, but not this man—before he escorted me inside. We settled at a table, one in a prime location with a good view of every corner of the restaurant, and wine was ordered. I was thankful for that, especially after downing my first glass in record time. A happy numbness settled over me.

  “How’s work?” Kevin asked right before he took a sip of his Maker’s Mark.

  “My boss is still a jerk, but I like what I do.”

  “There’s an opening at my office.”

  Right, out of the pan and into the fire. “Thanks, but I’m good. So what’s new with you?”

  Another glass of wine magically appeared just as Kevin started in on his dissertation on how his life had been since the last time we had seen each other. This I liked because he would dominate the rest of the conversation, which meant I could tune out and enjoy the buzz of the alcohol in my blood.

  He made me wait until dessert was served before he got to the reason behind his call.

  “I’ve been looking into your dad’s accident.”

  I had just taken a bite of tiramisu and immediately started choking on it. The sting, from the spirit-laced ladyfingers, burned my nose from the force of the cough needed to dislodge the pastry.

  Once I was able to breathe again, I needed an additional few minutes to calm myself or I was likely going to launch myself across the table and strangle Kevin with my bare hands. I knew he was controlling, but this was just way the hell wrong. Leaning closer, I practically snarled, “Why the hell are you looking into my dad’s accident?”

  “Calm down, Mia.”

  “Calm down, Kevin? You just told me you’re looking into my dad’s death, a death I’m still tying to deal with and my very ex-boyfriend takes it on himself to meddle where he has no business meddling.”

  Anger turned his eyes darker. “I’m looking into it because of a case I’m working.”

  That took a bit of the wind from my sails, confusion quickly replacing fury. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I was hired by the family of a murder victim. The suspect they have in custody claims he couldn’t have killed the girl in question because he was elsewhere.”

  “Meaning?”

  “He claims he was already working a job, an accident several months ago.”

  “And that linked him to my dad how? There have got to be hundreds of accidents in South Philly every year.”

  “He mentioned your dad specifically.”

  Every muscle in my body went numb and my heart felt as if it pounded unnaturally fast, like I was in imminent danger of it breaking my ribcage and beating right out of my chest. “Say again.”

  “He claims there was a price on your dad’s head and he cashed in.”

  “And you believed him? I’m not a paid killer but even I know that a car accident is probably the stupidest way to kill a target. How can you be sure you’ve even succeeded?”

  “You can if the target is already dead.”

  It was like we were talking about some unknown person and not my dad because otherwise I’d be hysterical now. “Are you saying he claimed to have killed my dad first and then used the accident to cover it up?”

  “Yes.”

  Cole’s comment about not having Dad’s back flashed through my head. Dear God, could there possibly be some truth in what Kevin was saying?

  “The expert the family hired got access to the ME’s report on your dad. There were some inconsistencies that drew some questions about timeline.”

  “Such as?”

  “He didn’t go into detail.”

  Even though I didn’t want to believe any of this, a part of me already did. My heart dropped, tears filled my eyes and I felt my dinner moving up my throat. Jumping from the table, I just made it to the bathroom before I hurled. Tears were streaming down my face; Kevin’s words were like bullets ricocheting around in my skull. Killed, cover up. He was suggesting that my dad had been murdered. My stomach seized and I dry heaved. It couldn’t be, what he implied, it couldn’t be.

  My legs weren’t steady when I left the bathroom. Kevin waited for me, his arm coming around my shoulders.

  I shrugged him off, my fury warring with heartache and disbelief. “You’ve a lot of nerve, Kevin. Stay the hell away from me.”

  “Mia.”

  “Lose my number.” And then I stormed out of the restaurant. By the time I was walking down Catharine Street, my heart hurt so badly I had to stop a few times and force air into my lungs. Kevin’s story was ridiculous and still the scenario he so callously forced me to see made a hideous kind of sense. Who the hell would want to see my dad dead? No one, which was why I wanted to believe Kevin was manipulating me as a way of seeking control, but part of me now wondered if there really had been more to Dad’s death.

  Passing by Vincent’s, my feet moved me through the door and when the familiar sound of Vincent’s bellow greeted me, I felt steadier. Settling at the bar, I ordered another glass of wine since I wanted to be numb, wanted to forget all about Kevin’s heinous attempt to mess with me.

  Three glasses of wine later, I’d achieved numbness and denial, choosing to believe it was just Kevin being Kevin.

  I checked the bus schedule, but I had missed the bus so had some time until the next one. A man settled beside me at the bar, his green eyes checking me over before he said, “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  When I checked my watch some time later, I realized that I had gotten so wrapped up in talking to the guy that I almost missed the bus again.

  “I’ve got to run. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Stay.”

  He was cute with his messy blond hair and piercing eyes and had I not work in the morning, I could have been tempted. “I can’t. I’ve got to be up early in the morning.”

  “I’ll make sure to wake you early.” He was joking, at least I hoped he was, but I hurried toward the door since his comment had kind of unnerved me. When I glanced behind me, he was settling his own bill. Oh crap. I slipped outside and walked to the bus stop, actually it was more like a run. I heard hi
m calling for Alexis, since that was the name I used when I flirted with strangers. A practice I had started for fun in college and one that was now almost second nature. I felt the hand on my arm, firm but gentle, and in a panic I curled my hand into a fist. I never made contact; a much larger hand stopped my fist, but it was the voice—that deep raspy voice—that had my body just freezing.

  “It’s a wonder how you’ve lived this long.”

  It took a minute for me to react because I wasn’t quite sure that Cole actually stood here with me, especially after last night, until the heat that always stirred from his touch penetrated my foggy brain. I hated that just looking at him made my knees weak. He looked dangerous, heart-throbbingly sexy, but dangerous. I really liked that he had his hand on me, stupid me, but my temper shortly followed because what the ...

  “You are not really here. I’m in hell. I have got to be in hell and this would be my hell, having you constantly around and yet not.”

  No response. And then my focus shifted to the guy I had been chatting with at the bar. Unconsciously, I stepped closer to Cole. It didn’t escape my notice that of the two men, Cole was definitely by far the more dangerous.

  “Is there a problem here?”

  “No.” I said. Cole said nothing.

  “Do you know this man?”

  No I didn’t, even though I’d known him since I was seven, nearly had had sex with him, wanted him in a way that bordered on unhealthy and even knew of his dark past that had changed him so completely, and still I didn’t really know him. Yet, I could not seem to say one word to the contrary.

  Clearly Cole had enough of the conversation because he turned us away from the man and escorted me down the street.

  “Hey!” the man called but I suspected he didn’t pursue because one glance at my companion’s face, I wouldn’t have either. He looked positively terrifying.

  The words were out of my mouth before I could filter them. “Should I be worried?”

  We reached a black Challenger; he opened the passenger door and held it for me. “Get in the car, Mia.”

  And while I stared at him, mutinously because of his highhandedness, I noticed the silver chain around his neck. My hand shook when I reached for it, more surprising, he didn’t stop me from reaching for it but that was likely because we both knew what I’d find. My St. Anthony’s charm. My knees went weak and warmth burned through me because not only did he still have my gift after all of these years, he wore it.

  “In the car, Mia.” And this time, I did as he asked and got in the car.

  The driver’s door had only just closed when I turned to him. “What are you doing here?”

  Those eyes looked right into mine and for a few seconds we just stared across the car at each other. “You stepped into trouble, again.”

  I had already suspected, but now I knew for sure, that the sensation I had experienced countless times since Dad died had been Cole. “And you promised Dad you’d look out for me.” Bitterness left an unpleasant taste in my mouth, but there was a healthy dose of hurt too because my speech last night had made no impact. Cole’s only interest in me now, despite our history, was fulfilling his obligation to my dad.

  He turned the key and the engine roared to life. “Mace asked me to keep an eye on you.”

  “Why?”

  He’d been looking out the front windshield, but at that question his head turned toward me. “You’re his daughter and you tend to be too trusting.”

  That stirred my ire. “Meaning?”

  “The man tonight, me.”

  “You?”

  He said nothing else, his focus completely on driving.

  “Are you saying you aren’t trustworthy?”

  “I’m saying you don’t know me well enough anymore to know one way or the other and yet you offered no argument when I told you to get into my car.” He had that tone back in his voice, annoyance.

  “I don’t know you well enough? I’ve known you since I was seven. I think besides Dad, I know you the best of anyone.”

  No comment from the cyborg that had taken over Cole’s body.

  “Is that why you think it’s a miracle I’ve lived as long as I have?”

  No answer.

  “Again I say you’re wrong about me not knowing you.”

  This earned me his hard stare again.

  “What I’ve personally witnessed about you speaks volumes. What you endured and how you survived it, I see as a strength despite how you’ve decided to see it, but more my dad trusted you and if my dad trusted you then so do I.”

  I couldn’t say what he was thinking—he was definitely thinking something, but in true Cole fashion he said nothing.

  He pulled up in front of my apartment before shutting off the engine. I climbed from the car, he was there to help me.

  “Your keys.” He wasn’t asking.

  Digging them out of my purse, I handed them over and again he shook his head in disbelief before muttering something that sounded like too fucking trusting.

  Unlocking my door, he handed me my keys again. “Lock it.”

  “I get it, Cole, took me a while, but I get it. You and me that’s over, but I want to talk with you about my dad.” The wretched way the evening began, with Kevin and his outrageous theory, came rushing back despite my efforts against it.

  “Not tonight.” Before I could offer an argument he added, “You’ve been drinking and it’s late. We’ll talk, just not tonight.”

  Despite the temper that was doing way more than simmering, that seemed fair. “Okay.”

  Reaching for the door, my gaze met his and since my dad had taught me manners I said, “Thanks for the rescue earlier.”

  Anger sparked in his eyes but that was the only reaction he had. I closed the door and locked it and somehow knew he waited until he heard the lock slip into place.

  It had been almost a week since Cole rescued me outside of Vincent’s and despite his words to the contrary, he hadn’t made any attempt to talk with me. Typical. For the whole of that week, I mulled over what Kevin had said to me. Whatever his intentions, he seemed pretty adamant that there had been more to my dad’s accident. As much as I didn’t want to believe him, what if there was some truth to his claim? It would certainly explain Cole’s cryptic comments about keeping Dad and me safe. Janie was really good about looking at things from every perspective, maybe she’d better understand Kevin’s motives if he sought to screw with me. Reaching for my phone, I called her.

  “What’s up girl?”

  Janie was drunk which meant she had had a really bad day at work.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Lost one.”

  My heart dropped. One of her kids. “Oh, Janie.”

  “We were getting him out, a few more days and he’d have been free. Fucking hate the red tape, the bureaucratic shit we have to wade through and all the while the innocent are suffering.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “Thanks, but no. I’ve a friend coming over. A good fuck will take my mind from it for a while. Did you need something?”

  She had enough to think about and didn’t need me dumping on her already shitty day. “I just called to say hi. If you need to talk after your friend leaves, call me.”

  “If I’m not unconscious by the time he leaves, he’s not doing it right.” There was a touch of Janie humor in that statement. She’d move past this, thankfully, but just how many more senseless tragedies did she have in her?

  “Still, you wake up, you call me.”

  “Thanks, Mia.”

  The following morning found me walking through the doors of the PPD 3rd precinct—I could either drive myself insane with what ifs or I could go to the source. Bruce Knox was the detective that worked my dad’s case. If there were any new developments, he’d know. My decision to visit rather than call was intentional since it would be harder to brush me off if I stood right in front of him.

  The sergeant working the front desk looked up at me
as I entered. Her name was Pam and she’d sat with me a few times when I had been called here after my dad died.

  “Mia, hi. How are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks. How’s your granddaughter?”

  “Almost five months old and looks just like her momma.”

  “How wonderful.” Though I didn’t sound as happy for her as I had hoped and she picked up on that.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Could I get a few minutes with Detective Knox?”

  “Sure, let me call him.”

  Moments later, Detective Bruce Knox appeared. Since our first meeting, that day at the baseball field, Bruce had gone from a beat cop to a detective and when he learned about Dad, he insisted on being a part of the investigation. At the time, despite that it had been an accident, I had been happy that someone that knew and liked my dad had been assigned to his case. Now I wondered; had there been more to Dad’s accident and Bruce had kept if from us because he was our friend and believed he was protecting us?

  “Mia, how nice to see you. Please come back.”

  Instead of going to his desk, he took me to a small interrogation room and grinned as soon as I entered it. “Just thought you might want privacy since it looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”

  Once we settled around the metal table, I wasted no time getting to the point. “This is really out of left field, but I was approached by a PI I know who said that someone in custody is claiming credit for killing my dad. I don’t really believe it, but I needed to hear it from you.”

  Something dark moved over Detective Knox’s face before he asked, “Who’s the private investigator?”

  “Kevin Lowell.”