by Kay Bigelow
Chapter Twenty-nine
At the office, Cots and Peony were waiting for her as they enjoyed coffee and pastries at her conference table. She knew she was only ten minutes late for the meeting, but their morning meeting was supposed to start at nine sharp at her own insistence. Sometimes she wondered when and how she’d become such a stickler for rules. She hadn’t been that way when she was younger.
“Good morning,” Cots said. “How is Jardain’s grandmother?”
“They got her into surgery before any brain damage occurred, and they gave her a temporary heart while they build a new one for her. She’ll be in the hospital for at least another five days.”
“That’s really good news for Jardain and her family. Did you get to meet her?” Peony asked.
“I went to the hospital last night and was able to spend a few minutes there. What’s new on our case?”
“Information is dripping into our bucket slowly, but surely,” Peony said.
Why is Cots being so closed-mouthed? He usually leads our meetings. I’ll wait and see if he says anything before asking him what’s wrong.
“Before you bring me up to date with the facts, tell me what your gut tells you?”
“I like this guy, Daichi Lei, for the murder. If he’s not the killer, we’ll have to settle for this being a random murder of opportunity. And I don’t care for the sound of that,” Peony said.
Peony and Leah kept silent while Cots was, apparently, lost in thought. When he looked at them, he smiled, and said, “I agree with Peony. He feels right for the murder, but we’ll need more than we’ve got now before we can take it to the police. Speaking of whom, we can’t take what we find to Becker. He’s been nothing short of incompetent in this matter. I’ve been wondering why he didn’t do a better job. I mean to not even interview all the members of the family, including Rodrigo, was singularly stupid. Why doesn’t he want to solve this murder? We know ShaTin is paying him to look the other way when it comes to his activities, does that mean Becker thinks ShaTin is the murderer? Not to interview Rodrigo and members of the Bensington family is simple dereliction of duty. Does he think he’s safe from an Internal Affairs review of his murder case? He should be fired for incompetence and taking bribes.”
“We’ll decide what to do about Becker after we find our murderer. Are we all agreed that Lei is the most logical choice?”
Both Peony and Cots nodded their heads.
“Do we have anyone else in our files who could be, even remotely, a person of interest?”
“Not really, but I’ll go through the searches we’ve run again to see if I missed anything,” Cots said.
“Run a search for a woman cop, a lieutenant or above, who has a reputation for being honest. We’ll give her Lei when we’ve wrapped him up in a neat package.”
“I’ll do that search,” Peony said.
“Good. So let’s talk about Lei and see what we know and what we’re missing.”
“I’ve got a digiprint of his driver’s license,” Cots said throwing a photo onto the murder board. “It’s not recent. If he’s still driving himself, he’s doing so with an expired license. I found one other photo, but I don’t have a time frame for it,” Cots said.
The second picture was of a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. His hair was slicked back from his forehead in such a way to suggest he wore it in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. According to the license, he was five foot six and a slight 140 pounds. His eyes in both photographs reminded Leah of a shark on the hunt for its next victim; she didn’t see even a spark of humanity in them.
“Do we know where the second photo was taken? It looks as if he’s at a funeral. Maybe we can glean something or someone from the background,” Peony said.
“Any chance the street address on the license is still valid?” Leah asked.
“No. The building was razed five years ago to make repairs to the metro beneath it.”
“Do the police have anything on him?”
“He’s on a gang watch list, not as a leader but as a member.”
“I found something interesting,” Peony said. “His gang was disbanded four years ago. There’s speculation on social media the Shandians rose from the ashes of the Skeleton Crew gang with a new leader, who might be our guy Daichi Lei. The name, by the way, is probably not his real name.”
“Why not?” Cots asked.
“A loose translation of Daichi Lei is ‘impressive thunder’ and a translation of his gang, Shandian, means ‘lightning.’ A little too convenient to be real, don’t you think?”
“Probably,” Cots conceded. “That’s going to make searching for him more difficult.”
“But not impossible?”
Cots and Peony looked at one another, and smiled. “No, not impossible,” Peony said.
“It will, however, take time,” Cots added.
“Keep me apprised of your progress. Is there anything I can do to expedite anything?”
“Not yet. We may need authorization to hire an outside hacker.”
“Let me know if you decide it’s needed,” Leah said, knowing that “outside hacker” meant the hacker would be accessing governmental sources illegally.
“Hopefully, we’ll find something on our own before it becomes necessary.”
After Cots and Peony left her office, Leah sat in her chair looking out over the lake. She again noted the increasing number of flowers now in bloom and new birds on the water. Her mind, of course, turned to Jardain. She was a little surprised she hadn’t heard from her. She decided she wouldn’t head for the hospital until Jardain contacted her.
Instead of wishing Jardain would call or text her, she started reading the performance evaluations of the staff compiled by Cots, Peony, and Stacy. Nearly everyone was recommended for a raise, a few for a bonus, and two for dismissal. She focused first on the two the evaluation team were recommending be let go.
Leah was surprised when Peony knocked on her door and stuck her head in. “We’re heading out for the evening. Do you want to join us for dinner?”
“Good lord, what time is it?”
“It’s almost seven.”
“Thanks for the invite, but I’ll pass on dinner,” she said, smiling.
“Okay, see you tomorrow morning.”
“See you,” Leah said.
Leah really had had no idea of the passing of time. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her slacks to check to see if she’d missed a call or text from Jardain. But, there was nothing from her—not a call, not a text. What the phuc? What is going on? Does this mean she’s done with me? Has she decided she no longer wants to be with me and no longer loves me? If that’s what it means, then screw her. I would never have thought her to be so callous. How is this connected to what happened this morning? She didn’t say she was upset with what happened. I repeat, screw you, Jardain Bensington. Wait a damned second. It may not have anything to do with you. What if her grandmother took a turn for the worse? Give her a break. If she hasn’t contacted me in twenty-four hours, then say “Screw you, Jardain Bensington.”
Leah decided she didn’t want all the power in Jardain’s hands. She texted Jardain, “Everything okay?”
Leah gathered her things and texted Seraph to pick her up at the front door. When she was settled into the driver’s seat, Seraph asked, “Where to, Boss?”
“Home.”
Seraph was rather subdued on their way home this evening. Leah was surprised that they were going the speed limit. What has happened to my world in the course of only a few hours? She smiled at her own thoughts.
Rusty was waiting for her at the door. “Good evening, Boss. Will Jardain be joining you?”
“No. I’m not very hungry tonight, Rusty. Bring a bowl of soup, some crackers, a small pot of tea. I’ll be in the study. And please change the sheets on my bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She changed clothes and asked Rusty to put Gregorian chants on the music system. In her study, she sat in
the chair behind her desk. She was trying not to think about Jardain, which she knew was impossible to do and wasn’t healthy either. But she was just so pissed at Jardain for not bothering to talk to her that she didn’t want to see her nor hear from her or even think about her.
Chapter Thirty
The next morning, Leah awoke ten minutes before her alarm was set to sound, and her first thoughts were of Jardain. She didn’t linger in bed and pushed the thoughts of Jardain from her mind. After she had showered and dressed, Rusty had her out the door in time to get to the office with time to spare before her first morning meeting. Seraph drove much slower on the trip to the office. Her mind made a note that Rusty and Seraph had been uncharacteristically quiet. Maybe they’ve compared notes and are aware that something happened between her and Jardain. I won’t take total responsibility for its demise, whatever “it” is, but I did let the whole thing go too far. Just because she stayed the night with you when her grandmother was in the hospital, and she was exhausted and worried and vulnerable, and I made love to her, doesn’t mean she’s a changed woman. She said she loves me, but that could have been something else. Oh, stop! If she really loves me, she’ll get her shit together and get over herself.
Leah didn’t hear from Jardain that day either. Luckily, she’d been too busy at work to think much about Jardain and what was going on with her. Being at home alone, however, was another kettle of fish—all she could do was think of Jardain. She finally conceded there were no answers to the myriad questions she was asking herself. She told herself the best thing she could do was to get through each day, and every time Jardain popped into her head, acknowledge her presence there and then push her aside. That strategy had worked when she was trying to deal with Quinn’s perfidy and death.
The upside of not having Jardain in her life was that playing her cello was improving day by day. Or so she told herself.
Only Cots asked about Jardain, and Leah gave him a curt answer of, “It’s over.”
After a week, Jardain started calling. At first, she only left terse messages like “Call me.” After the first two or three times, Leah stopped listening to the messages or reading her texts. A time or two, Jardain tried to waylay her at the door to her condo building so she told the doormen not to admit her, and had Seraph drive into the building’s private garage.
Two weeks later, Cots walked into her office and closed the door. “What’s going on with you and Jardain?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re not seeing one another.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You know the woman is crazy about you, yes?” Cots asked.
“She’s got a very funny way of showing it.”
“What do you mean?”
Leah sighed. She knew Cots would not let this subject go until he was satisfied he knew what was going on. Telling him it was none of his business would be futile.
She took a deep breath, and said, “Jardain was a player. If the dictionary had a picture of the lesbian player, it would be a picture of Jardain.”
“And? You knew that going in.”
“And I should have listened to my brain and not my…heart.”
“Did you guys make love?”
“That’s really none of your business.”
Cots didn’t say anything. They’d spoken about many subjects that were none of his business over the three years they’d known one another. He did, however, raise an eyebrow.
“I made love to her. We were interrupted by our mothers calling to check up on us.”
“Your mothers?” Cots asked obviously surprised.
“Yes. You and Amara.”
“Oh. Those mothers. And?”
“She got up and, after having a breakfast burrito, walked out the door and I didn’t hear from her again for a week. Apparently, old habits die hard for her even though she said she’d changed.”
“Then what happened?”
“She started calling and texting again. And before you ask, I didn’t return her calls or answer her texts.”
“Why not? Were you not interested in what she had to say?”
“Not really.”
“Liar. Do you love her?” Cots asked.
“Yes,” Leah said miserably.
“Does she love you?”
“She says she does.”
“What do you believe? Does she love you?”
“Yes.”
“Then what the phuc are you doing moping around and playing your cello until all hours of the night? Go to the woman. Talk it out. Do what you need to do to get that woman back into your life,” Cots said, then turned and walked out of her office.
That evening, Leah thought about her conversation with Cots. He was right, of course, but… But, if she trusted Jardain, the potential for getting her heart broken was enormous. She’d trusted Quinn and she had broken her heart. She would not—could not—let that happen again. She knew Jardain was not Quinn, but for some reason she couldn’t figure out, they felt like a single person. If I follow Cots’s advice, I will be putting myself closer to having my heart broken and no sane person would do that.
At ten, she went to bed and crawled between clean sheets. She tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate on the words so she set the book back on the bedside table. Her phone buzzed, but she didn’t get out of bed to check it. She turned her light off, and tried to sleep. Sleep, though, was elusive. Her mind kept going to making love to Jardain. She knew Jardain had been aroused. She knew she’d been ready to come. Why had she stopped me? Was it about not wanting to be vulnerable? But isn’t that part of what making love to another person is all about? Being vulnerable to the other person, trusting the other person won’t take advantage of that. I’ll never know if I don’t ask. No, I’ll never know if Jardain doesn’t tell me. She has no reason to tell me. Maybe it’s because it makes her as vulnerable—if not more vulnerable—than not stopping me.
Leah couldn’t turn her mind off, but she knew if she got up she’d be up all night. So she stayed in bed and tried to not think about Jardain. She focused on the lake and the Vinca swans. The next thing she knew, her alarm was ringing.
“Good morning, Boss,” Rusty’s voice said. “Coffee and a burrito?”
“Coffee and a small burrito, Rusty, not one of your atomic bombs.”
“Uh…” Rusty said.
“Never mind. A small burrito, please.”
She got out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower. When she came out, the bed was made and her clothes were laid out on the bed. She was dressed in a few minutes. In the kitchen, she ate her tiny burrito and drank her coffee. As she got to the front door, she picked up her bag, took the elevator down, and Seraph was waiting for her outside the front door of the building.
When Leah walked into their offices, she heard someone in the kitchen. It was probably Stacy fixing the first pot of coffee for the others. When she entered her office, Jardain was standing at the window behind her desk looking out at Leah’s lake.
“Who let you in?” Leah asked ungraciously.
Jardain turned to her and said, “Cots” even as she looked her up and down, sending a clear message to Leah’s body that she wanted her. Leah kept her eyes on Jardain’s face.
“Good morning,” Jardain said. “I took a big chance that you still like me a little so I brought you coffee.”
“What do you want?” Leah asked.
Jardain’s eyes were pleading with Leah to…what? Give her the reassurances she was seeking, but couldn’t ask for? In spite of her misgivings, Leah knew she really was in love with Jardain. It was foolish, she knew. Maybe even a little insane, but it was nevertheless true. There was more to a relationship than declarations of love in a vulnerable moment. Quinn had told her she loved Leah several times each day. Each one of those utterances had been a lie. She wasn’t going to go down that rabbit hole with anyone ever again. But loving Jardain didn’t necessari
ly mean she was willing to be treated like an afterthought in her life. And, she wasn’t yet willing to forgive her.
“Can we talk?” Jardain asked.
“What about? Your unbelievable inability to love and be loved? I have nothing to contribute to that discussion.”
Jardain looked like Leah had slapped her. She lowered her eyes and Leah was certain she was arguing with herself. Leah guessed it was about whether to tell her the truth or run for the hills again. Please tell me the truth. Please.
“Can we sit down? This may become uncomfortable in a few moments, and I’d rather be seated,” Jardain said.
“I’m serious, Jardain. You cannot come waltzing in here weeks after you casually dropped out of my life and expect me to want to discuss anything with you.”
“I know that, Leah. But I’m asking—no, begging—for a second chance. I know I don’t deserve you or a second chance, but I’m begging for one anyway.”
“Why? Do you seriously expect me to give you a second chance to hurt me? You know me so little if you do.”
“I won’t run from you again, Leah.”
“Sorry, I don’t believe you.”
“What else can I say to you that will make a difference?”
“Nothing, Jardain. There is absolutely nothing you can say that will make any of this okay. Even you have to know that.”
Leah knew she was being obstinate, cruel, and hurtful, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It’s not as if we’d been together for years like Quinn and I had been when she betrayed me. Wait a minute! So this is really about Quinn and not about Jardain? Really? How is that fair to Jardain? Or yourself? What would it cost you to listen to her? If she doesn’t make sense, kick her beautiful ass to the curb. All right? All right.
Tears were threatening to spill from Jardain’s eyes. The hurt Leah saw in Jardain’s eyes was real, she was sure of it.
“I’ll ask one more time, Leah. Please hear me out. Please.”
“Give me a moment.”
Leah stepped out of her office and into Stacy’s. “Stacy, I need about an hour to myself. Please rearrange my schedule accordingly. I don’t want to be disturbed by anyone, including Cots and Peony.”