by Mark Stone
“What?” she said, careful not to look at him as she shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did,” he said, chuckling. “I think I would know.”
“You didn’t,” she said loudly. “You couldn’t have. You were . . . you were you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Roman asked, narrowing his eyes at the woman.
“It means you never gave me the time of day back then except to make me feel like crap,” Jessie said.
“That wasn’t what I wanted,” Roman said, sighing. “I just wanted you to notice me.”
“Notice you?” Jessie asked as they neared the gas station. She still didn’t dare to look at him. “You were the captain of the football team. The entire school noticed you.”
“Not the entire school,” he said, nudging her playfully with his shoulder.
“If anything,” Jessie continued, trying to push the blush down before it crept up into her cheeks, “I was the one who wasn’t noticed. I was pretty much a wallflower.”
“Oh, you were noticed,” Roman said, smiling. “You were definitely noticed. I mean, why do you think I asked you to prom?”
Jessie’s jaw stiffened, thinking about that night. “Honestly, part of me thought it was a joke. That would certainly explain why you stood me up.”
“Oh,” Roman said lightly. “Is that what you think happened that night? Listen, Jess. The thing about prom was that I didn’t—”
“Wait,” Jessie said as the phone vibrated in her hand. Looking at it, she saw a new message from Mickey had come through. Pressing a couple of buttons, she read it.
Didn’t anyone ever tell you how rude it is to violate other people’s privacy, especially the privacy of a dead woman?
“O-Oh, God,” Jessie stammered.
“What?” Roman asked, coming to a complete stop outside the gas station along with her.
“You were right. He knows,” Jessie replied. “Mickey knows Lara is dead.”
The phone buzzed again as a new text materialized. This one came through in two parts.
I guess it’s too late for you to learn your lesson now, though. All you can do is take your punishment.
“Punishment?” Jessie asked from outside the door.
The second text came vibrating through.
Cops go BOOM!
Just then, Jessie heard a strange mechanical noise sounding from inside.
“Oh, no! Roman, run!” Jessie screamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the door.
As she sprinted, Jessie heard a loud booming noise coming from behind her. She felt a force pull her up from the ground and lift her into the air. Then she felt heat and saw light. The building had exploded right behind her. She knew that. She hoped she was far enough away to be okay. She hoped Roman was too.
And that was the last thought she had before everything went dark.
11
Jessie jolted up with a start, screaming Roman’s name. Her last thought, wondering if they would be okay, was seared into her mind like the backside of a branded cattle. Her heart raced, her hands shook, and her mind buzzed with the terrible notion that either she or Roman had been hurt in a way they wouldn’t be able to come back from.
It would be her fault, of course. She was the one who’d found the phone. She was the one who’d insisted that they go to the gas station where the text led. She was the one who’d stayed an hour beyond the time of the proposed meeting, and she was the one who’d insisted on getting out of the car and investigating. Roman was right there, on the cusp of that blast, because she went there herself, because she’d teased him into following. If he was hurt, or worse, she’d never be able to forgive herself.
“He’s okay, Jessie,” a familiar voice said from beside her.
Jessie didn’t need to be told she was lying in a hospital bed. She was alive, and she had just been rocked so hard by an explosion that it knocked her out. When that happens, if you don’t die, you go to the hospital. That was just the way it worked.
Looking over, she saw Katie sitting beside her. Her best friend had her hair pulled back into a sloppy bun and her legs curled up around her chest. An issue of Vogue sat on her knees, open and splayed out to some perfume ad.
“He’s fine,” Katie continued, shaking her head as if to assure her shaken friend that what she was saying was the truth. “Honestly, you took the worst of it. It didn’t even knock him out. It banged him up a bit. He’s got a couple of cuts and bruises, but I think he was just more afraid than anything else.”
“Afraid?” Jessie asked, surprised at how sore her throat was. Every word passing her lips felt like it had been run through a shredder.
“You should have seen the poor guy after he drove you here,” Katie said. “He was shaking, his hair was all over his head, and I’m pretty sure he had been crying. Not that he’d ever admit to that, of course. But he was awfully worried about you. Even when we got to the hospital, he was inconsolable. He just kept repeating some prayer over and over again to himself as he paced around the room.” She shook her head, smiling like the whole thing was cute. “Your dad told him you were okay, but it didn’t seem to calm him down much.”
Jessie couldn’t really believe what she was hearing. First, Roman told her that he’d had a crush on her when they were younger, and now she heard that he drove her to the hospital and was insanely shaken up about her condition. She took a deep breath, trying to process everything with a mind that she knew was probably swimming in painkillers.
“Where is he now?” Jessie asked, blinking hard.
“Sleeping it off,” Katie said. “The doctor gave him something to calm him down, and I guess it calmed him way down. He needed the rest, though. You could tell it had been a hell of a day for him. Which, I guess, means it’s been a hell of a day for you, too. How are you feeling, anyway?”
“I-I honestly don’t know,” Jessie said, realizing she hadn’t even let that thought sit on her mind. “I think I’m okay. I don’t feel too banged up.”
“The doctors said you were fine,” Katie said. “Just got the wind knocked out of you, but like times ten, I guess.”
“You would make a terrible nurse,” Jessie groaned, lying back in her bed.
“And you would make a terrible crash test dummy,” she replied. “You can’t even make it through one teeny explosion without falling asleep.”
“Falling asleep.” Jessie chuckled. “I wish. How teeny was the explosion, anyway? Did they find anything in the rubble of the gas station?”
“See, you’re asking cop questions to a hairdresser,” Katie murmured. “I don’t come over to dinner and ask you what color Mrs. Pinsky should dye her hair this week, do I? Also, don’t tell anyone I told you that Mrs. Pinsky dyes her hair.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Jessie replied. “And fair enough. I guess I’ll just have to ask Dad. Where is he? Any idea?”
“That, I do know,” Katie said. “He’s in the cafeteria with your mother. The poor guy hasn’t eaten all day, and your mom forced him to go grab a salad.”
“Good,” Jessie muttered. “How long have I been out, anyway?”
“About six hours,” Katie said. “Long enough for you to get those.”
The grin that appeared on Katie’s face should have been enough to tell Jessie that whatever she was talking about (and pointing to) was ridiculous. But Jessie’s head was still spinning. So, when she followed her best friend’s finger to the bouquet of flowers sitting on the nightstand beside the bed, her mind was filled with confusion as opposed to anything else.
“What the hell is that?” Jessie asked, blinking hard again, half sure she was seeing things. “Did somebody buy me flowers?”
“Sure did,” Katie said. “Looks like roses, too. Someone must really like you.”
“I doubt that,” Jessie said, leaning up again and grabbing the flowers.
“See, that’s your problem, Jessie,” Katie said, shaking her head. “You never give yourself enough cr
edit. Here you are, as smoking hot as anybody has ever been, and you don’t even know it. I mean, look at you. You just went through an explosion, and you still look better than me.”
“Katie,” Jessie said, reading the card that was nestled into the roses.
“No, I’m serious,” Katie said. “Just look at you. Your skin is glowing, your cheekbones are on point, and don’t even get me started on your hair.” She nodded. “I’d hate you if I didn’t love you so much.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Jessie said, her hand tightening around the note so hard that the paper crumpled.
“I take it those didn’t come from someone you’re interested in,” Katie said, looking at the destroyed paper in her friend’s hand.
“See for yourself,” Jessie said, shuddering as she tossed the crumpled note to Katie.
Unfolding it, Katie read the words on the note. Her eyes widened as she saw just who these roses had come from.
Sorry you had to miss our date, Detective St. James. From what I hear, you’ve had a rough day. So I’ll forgive you for blowing me off this time. Try not to do it again. How does Saturday sound? Same place, same time. I’ll be there with bells on.
-Edgar Salazar
Katie looked up at her friend, her eyes bulging and her mouth gaping in shock.
“Is that as bad as I think it is?”
Jessie sighed, leaning back in her bed and clutching her pillow. “You know, I think it might be worse.”
12
“Are you sure you’re okay to be up and walking around?” Clint asked his daughter, looking over at Jessie as they walked through their back yard edging up to the beach.
She smiled as she looked over at him. He was always like this, and her mother, too. They were acutely concerned about her wellbeing. She usually thought it was over the top, but she figured being in an explosion was a big enough deal to make an exception this time.
“Of course,” Jessie said, shaking her head. “The doctor said I was totally fine, not even a concussion. I’d ask you to stop worrying about me so much, but that doesn’t seem likely.”
“Those are good instincts, sweetheart,” he replied. “Speaking of worrying about you, is there a reason other than this case that I should be concerned about your wellbeing?”
Jessie narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean, like, my cholesterol or something?”
“I mean the flowers you got while you were in the hospital,” Clint answered in a clipped tone. “Katie told me about them.”
“Of course, she did,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s better than a Facebook post—”
“I’m being serious,” Clint cut her off. “Edgar Salazar is not someone to take lightly, and he’s certainly not someone I’d expect you to be romantically interested in.”
Jessie stopped clear in her tracks, a rush of indignation running through her. “Frankly, I don’t know why you’d assume either of those things is true.”
“Maybe because while my daughter was lying unconscious in a hospital, some lowlife drug kingpin thought it was a good idea to send her flowers like he was her boyfriend. And what the hell is this about some missed date? You planned a date with that scumbag, Jess?”
“I am going to murder Katie,” Jessie muttered to herself. “No, Dad. I didn’t plan a date with him. He planned a date with me, I told him I wasn’t interested, and he pretended like what I said didn’t mean anything. That’s what happened. You would know that if you would ask me as opposed to flying off the handle just because you don’t understand something.”
“You’re almost right,” Clint replied. “Except the way I see it, I would know these things if my daughter told them to me. Seriously, Jess? Some lunatic propositions you and you don’t think to tell me about it?”
“I was handling it,” she answered. “Besides, I’m not fourteen. I don’t need to run to my daddy every time some weird dude asks me out.”
“You do if that weird dude is the most dangerous man on the island,” Clint shot back. “This is not okay, Jess, and I’m not saying that because you’re my daughter. Edgar Salazar has no fewer than three open investigations centering on him and his dealings on this island. If he had tried to broker a personal relationship with any of my officers, I’d expect them to tell me.”
Jessie took a deep breath, looking out at the water as it waved gently in the warm breeze. “I get it. You have a point. I should have said something. I just didn’t take it seriously. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. Also, don’t you think it’s because I’m your daughter that he’s focused on me this way?”
“That might be part of it,” Clint admitted.
“And what might the other part be?”
“That he’s honestly romantically interested in you,” Clint said, his lips turning down into a frown.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Jessie said, letting that thought rest on her mind.
“You and me both,” Clint said. “But the point is, you need to stay away from him. Regardless of whether he’s interested in you as a romantic partner or he’s just trying to get a rise out of me, no good can come from getting close to a man like that.”
“I know, Dad,” Jessie replied. “I’m not stupid. It’s just, he knows what happened to Lara. I know he does. He must. He’s dangling that carrot in front of me because he knows the longer this goes on, the more tempted I’ll be by it.”
Clint took a step back. “Oh, you have a lot of nerve, young lady,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” Jessie asked, her eyebrows slanting upward.
“You just lied to me,” he said. “You told me you didn’t tell me about Salazar because you didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“That is why I didn’t tell you about Salazar,” Jessie replied.
“Bull!” her father shouted. “You thought you could keep him in your back pocket. You figured you could use him to help crack this case, if need be, and you knew that if you told me about it, I’d forbid it.”
Jessie blinked hard. “You’re making a lot of assumptions, Dad. I didn’t think any of those things. I didn’t tell you about him for the exact reasons I just laid out to you. Nothing more. Also, just so you know, I’m a grown woman. You can’t forbid me from anything.”
“I’m your captain. I decide how this investigation goes and who's at the helm of it. If I want to give this to someone else and keep you pushing papers around a desk for the next six months, I’ll do it, and there’s not a damn thing in the world you can do to stop me.”
Jessie looked at her father incredulously. Her mouth tightened and her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” he said. “Now, seeing as how I couldn’t get through to you as a father, let me lay down the law. You are to stay away from Edgar Salazar. Any contact you have with that man is to be immediately brought to me. If you do not obey these commands, I will take your gun and your badge.” He stepped closer. “I’ll also tell your mother.”
Jessie glared at her father for a long moment. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do what you want. Just don’t tell Mom. She’d worry.” She shook her head. “And don’t take me off this case.”
“I wouldn’t,” Clint said. “But not because you asked me and certainly not because you’re my daughter. You’re the best person for this case. Now, go. If you’re feeling up to it, get to work, but remember, the instant you hear from Edgar Salazar—”
“I got it,” Jessie muttered. “If he tries to contact me, I’ll shoot up the Bat signal or something.”
“That’s . . . that’s not how the Bat signal works,” Clint replied. “The Bat signal is not an answering machine.”
“I don't know anything about the Bat signal!” Jessie shouted. “I just mean that I’ll get in touch with you.”
“Good,” her father said.
“So long as you keep me posted on what they find in the rubble of that gas station,” Jessie said.
“You got it,” her father answered.<
br />
“Now wish me luck,” Jessie said, turning back toward the house. “Roman and I are headed to Savannah.”
13
“This place is kind of awesome, isn’t it?” Roman asked from beside Jessie as they walked along the cobblestones of River Street, the hub of Savannah’s tourist district. This place was different from Sanibel, though there were pieces of it that reminded Jessie of home.
The Savannah River running right along the perfectly named River street made the entire place smell like water. Though it wasn’t the Gulf, the scent was close enough to what she grew up with to make Jessie feel at home. Hanging moss and weeping willows lined the streets and buildings. They were a world away from the bright, vibrant greenery of western Florida, but they were gorgeous, nevertheless. More than that, the same types of tourists roamed these streets, pointing at old buildings and deliciously scented candy shops just as they did on Sanibel. Jessie had to wonder if these were the same people who came to her island home when the weather crisped up wherever they lived.
“It’s beautiful,” Jessie said, looking at the row of shops in front of them and scanning the area for the one they were looking for.
“You know, I looked on TripAdvisor, and they said some little seafood restaurant called The Shell House is amazing here. Maybe we could hit it up after we do some digging,” Roman said, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.
Though the idea that Roman had just asked her to dinner flitted through her mind, Jessie pushed the idea right back out. Of course, he would ask her to dinner. They were in a strange city full of strangers. Who else was he going to eat with?
“I’m not sure comparing seafood is a good idea,” Jessie said. “I doubt it could hold a candle to the fresh Florida catch, and even if it did, we could never admit it to ourselves. Hometown pride and all that.”