by Mark Stone
“Not today,” she whispered mostly to herself as she shook her head and walked toward the bed where Roman lay. She’d had so many conflicting feelings about the man over the years. Sometimes she hated him, sometimes she was sweet on him. He annoyed her all the time, but she also had a deep and unwavering respect for him and how much he gave to his job. This wasn’t a paycheck to him. This was, in a lot of ways, exactly what it was to her. Being a cop was his calling. Helping people, being their first line of defense, it was what he was good at. She was sure that like her, it was what Roman felt he was put on this earth to do. And now, because she’d chased a worried woman to the roof of a motel, he might be taken out of this world.
Jessie had no idea how serious his condition was. The doctor said he was stable, but he did so with a morose look on his face. He also said that Roman should be waking up soon but for Jessie not to be surprised if he didn’t remember things about what happened to him or if he was slow coming around.
The thought of that made Jessie even sicker than seeing Roman in this bed. He was a cocky man, a proud man. He wouldn’t want to be vulnerable like that, least of all, to her. In fact, the only piece of this entire thing that pulled at Jessie more than the idea of Roman not being himself when he woke up was knowing that he was in this position because he’d saved her.
“You idiot,” she muttered through a clenched jaw as she thought about the instant he pushed her out of the way of the car, the moment he took a blow that was meant for her. “Why the hell would you do something like that?” Tears started streaming down her face now. Jessie hated herself for it. “Why would you sacrifice yourself to save me?”
“Who knows?” A voice sounded from behind Jessie, startling her. “He always was better to people than they deserved.”
Wiping her tears away conspicuously before she turned, Jessie saw Michelle Abbott standing in front of her, a cup of coffee in each hand.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jessie asked before she could stop herself, narrowing her eyes at the woman.
“I’m here to be with Roman when he wakes up,” Michelle said, walking right past Jessie and setting both cups of coffee on the stand beside Roman’s bed. “I could ask you the same question, but I see you’re here to assuage your guilt.”
Jessie’s mouth fell open, anger flooding her brain and dampening her good sense. “I’m here because my partner needs me.”
“Like he needed you before?” Michelle asked, rolling her eyes. “His family has told me about the kind of danger he’s been exposed to since you’ve returned to his life. They weren’t surprised when they got the call that he had finally gotten himself hurt badly on your behalf.”
“He’s exposed to danger because of his job. He’s exposed to more than most because he’s good at that job.” Jessie huffed. “Not that I’d expect you to know this. My guess is that painting your fingers and toenails on the same day is an exhaustive routine for you, but this job is hectic. It’s dangerous, it’s draining, and if you do it right, it’ll put you into the heart of the worst things imaginable.”
“You know, you should really do one of those recruitment videos,” Michelle said lazily. “I’m sure you’d have people signing up for badges in droves.”
“It’s also the most rewarding thing I can imagine,” Jessie said. “I’m just saying that what happened here isn’t my fault, and I’ll tell that to his family, too. Where is his family, anyway? Don’t you think they’d be better suited to greet Roman when he wakes up than a girl he barely knows?”
“Oh, he knows me better than you think,” Michelle said.
“I doubt that,” Jessie shot back. “He told me you’ve been on half a date.”
“The romantic aspect of our relationship is new, but I’ve known Roman and his family for years,” Michelle hissed.
“Right,” Jessie said, thinking back. “You used to date Roman’s cousin in high school. Well, I mean, you were in high school. He was much older than that, if I remember. What was his name, Bart?”
Michelle pursed her lips. “Bart was twenty-two and I was eighteen. It’s hardly a generational gap,” Michelle said. “Besides, that was a long time ago. Bart and I went down different paths.”
“Yeah. Well, seeing as how he went to jail for attempted murder, that doesn’t surprise me,” Jessie said, letting her mind rest on a member of Roman’s family whom she didn’t know very well, whom she hadn’t thought about in years.
“Are we here just to drudge up the past? Should I go through your list of ex-boyfriends as well?” Michelle asked, arching her eyebrows.
“Something tells me it wouldn’t take nearly as long or be nearly as salacious, but no, that’s not why we’re here. I’m here to check on Roman and to apologize about why I won’t be here when he wakes up.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Michelle said. “You never seemed like the type who could face up to anything. What were the stories I heard about you? Oh, that’s right. You have two ex-fiancés and just as many careers under your belt. You’re a cut and run type of girl. You ran away from your last set of problems and ended up here. I wonder where you’ll end up next.”
Jessie’s face reddened and her hands started to shake with anger. “Just a fair warning. I’ve had a rough couple of days, and I’m just dying to find someone to take that out on. You don’t know anything about me, about what I’ve been through or who I am these days. In fact, the only thing you do know about me is my job, and that’s why I won’t be here. Because I’m going to do my damn job.”
“Let’s hope you’re right and I don’t know anything about you because if I do, I’m thinking you’re never going to solve this case,” Michelle said, grabbing a cup of coffee and drinking it.
“Just tell him that I’ll be back,” Jessie said through clenched teeth. “Tell him not to worry about anything and that I’m going to take care of it.” She blinked hard. “And even if he doesn’t remember what he did for me, tell him thank you.”
Michelle glared up at Jessie. “I’ll try to remember all that. Now, run along. I’ve got my hands and my toes to do today, and as you’ve pointed out, that’s a lot for some girls.”
“You’re really a piece of work,” Jessie said, but she turned and walked out the door. As she did, she nearly ran headfirst into Rachel.
The dark haired woman had bright yellow eyeliner on today, and her lips were painted to match.
“Oh, good. Thank the seven realms that I found you,” she said, lighting up as she saw Jessie.
Jessie, of course, had no idea what the seven realms were, but she did know that she didn’t have the time or energy to get into it with someone like Rachel. So instead, she brushed it off and asked simply, “Rachel, what’s up? Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” Rachel said quickly. “I mean, I suppose. I heard about Duncan and about your cute partner. I hope they’re both okay.”
It was at that moment that Jessie realized Rachel hadn’t heard about Duncan yet.
“Roman’s all right, at least, for now. I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, though. Duncan is dead,” Jessie said solemnly.
“Oh,” Rachel said, looking at the floor. “That’s a shame. Now it’s like Lara really did do everything for nothing.”
“What do you mean?” Jessie asked, intrigued.
“I think she did all of this to keep Duncan safe,” Rachel said, nodding firmly. “I found some stuff of hers that she must have hidden in the back closet of the spare bedroom in my house. I think you need to see it. It really does change everything.”
20
“This had better not be some tarot card interpretation nonsense,” Jessie said as she walked with Rachel back into the woman’s house. Her stress levels were at an all-time high. Roman was hurt, Duncan was dead, and the boy’s mother was on the warpath, ready and willing to blame Jessie for her son’s demise.
To make horrible matters even worse, Jessie didn’t feel as though she was any closer to figuring out what happened
to Lara. sure, she knew that Lara was helping Brendan sell drugs and she knew that Lara was meeting Brendan’s contact on Sanibel Island the day she died. But Brendan thought that he worked for Roman himself, and whoever Mickey was still hadn’t tipped his hand. She felt like she was still missing at least one integral piece to this puzzle, and unfortunately, she had no idea where to look for it. That led to her following Rachel down what she hoped wasn’t some mystical-tinged rabbit hole of lunacy.
“That really stings,” Rachel said. “I will remind you that the last ‘tarot card interpretation nonsense’ I told you warned you of impending death. Given the day you’ve just had, I wouldn’t be so quick to turn away from it.”
Jessie took a deep breath. Fighting Rachel on the specifics of what had happened and trying to convince her that Duncan’s death had nothing to do with any particular card she might have pulled out and everything to do with the mess they were already in seemed like the sort of waste of time that Jessie wasn’t up for. Instead, she just nodded and suggested that the woman keep moving.
They moved past the living room and into the bedroom. Jessie saw that while Rachel may have looked like the sort of person you’d expect to be reading tarot cards and warning about impending death, her bedroom, like the rest of the house, looked like something someone’s grandmother might have decorated. Turns out there was a good reason for that.
“This was my grandmother’s house,” Rachel said, practically reading Jessie’s mind as she ran her hands along the floral print wallpaper. “I thought about changing things up after she passed and left this place to me, but I just feel her so strongly here, and I don’t want to mess that up. By having this stuff up, it’s kind of like she’s still with me.”
Jessie looked at the woman. “That’s actually really sweet.”
“Yeah. Plus, I’m hoping I can use one of her belongings one day to contact her from the other side,” Rachel said, as unaffected as if she were singing her favorite song.
“That’s less sweet, but okay,” Jessie muttered. “Why am I here, Rachel? What did you find?”
Rachel walked over to the far closet. Opening it, she pulled a small silver computer out and tossed it onto the similarly floral printed bedspread.
“I didn’t know she had this,” Rachel said. “She used to stay here from time to time when things weren’t going well with her aunt, but I had no idea that she had some kind of secret computer. I guess I didn’t know a lot about her.”
Walking over and scooping up the computer, Jessie said, “You can’t blame yourself for that. People are complicated. There’s no way to know everything about someone else.”
“Maybe not,” Rachel said, sighing loudly. “But Lara and I were close. I thought we shared everything with each other. We were more like sisters than friends.”
“Yeah, I have one of those too,” Jessie said, thinking of Katie. “And I’d be really shocked if I learned she was hiding things from me. I’d also be devastated to know I was never going to get to talk to her or hang out with her ever again.” She blinked hard. “I don’t know if I told you this before, but I’m really sorry for your loss, Rachel.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said, nodding. “The password is Pinky211.”
“That’s a weird password,” Jessie said, opening the computer, powering it on, and typing the word in. The screen illuminated, opening to an open notepad and a bunch of typing.
“It’s an inside joke. I guess we won’t get to have any of those anymore, either,” Rachel said, her voice cracking.
“Do you need a minute?” Jessie asked, looking up from the screen to the woman.
“No. I’m okay. I want to be here. I need to be here,” Rachel said. “I thought about what you guys said about justice earlier, and honestly, it’s starting to get to me. I know you don’t believe in it, but I want her spirit to be at peace, and helping you find out who did this to her might be the only way I can help ensure that.”
“I understand that,” Jessie said, thinking about her brother and all the thoughts she had after he was killed. “And I honestly think you and I are more alike about that than you think. I believe in peace, Rachel, even after this life is over.”
“Good,” Rachel said, obviously fighting back tears. “I hope this helps then.”
“So do I,” Jessie replied, looking back at the computer and going into the notepad. She narrowed her eyes, looking at what she quickly saw was coding. The mess of zeros and ones might as well have been Mandarin for all Jessie knew. She could have read through it just as easily. “What is this?” she asked, looking back up at Rachel.
“Is it happening again?” Rachel asked, turning toward the screen and scowling. “Dammit!” She grabbed the computer from Jessie and started typing furiously on the keyboard.
“What are you doing?” Jessie asked, reaching for the computer again. “I need to see whatever’s on there.”
“I know you do. I’m trying to make sure that happens. But this damn program is so much more insidious than I thought it was. No matter what I do, it just keeps coming back. It keeps deleting everything.”
“A program?” Jessie asked, swallowing hard.
Rachel was still furiously typing when she continued speaking. “When I opened the computer, I started looking through things. There wasn’t much on here aside from a series of emails from an account I had no idea Lara had. They all came from the same email address, and they were talking about Lara doing something she didn’t want to do and about someone else doing something they didn’t want to do, delivering something she had no interest in delivering.”
“Must be the drugs,” Jessie replied. “She must have been trying to get Brendan out of that life.”
“Drugs? Lara was dealing drugs? All the messages said was ‘package’. I can’t believe this. How could Lara get mixed up with any of this?”
“It’s complicated,” Jessie replied. “Just let me see the emails.”
“I can’t. Most of them have been deleted by the program. Even the ones I thought I saved are being corrupted. But I can tell you that whoever Lara was talking to was pissed off. Apparently, Lara was digging into their personal information and the person found out about it. They threatened Lara, threatened to hurt her aunt and even that Duncan kid. The last email Lara sent told the person that she was coming to Sanibel and they could talk things over there, but this would be the last package that would be delivered from any of them.” Tears flowed freely down Rachel’s face now. “I guess that threat is what got her killed.”
“Maybe,” Jessie answered, but she still felt like she was missing a part of the puzzle. “What about the emails? Are any of them left?”
“Just the last one, the one with the threat,” Rachel said, turning the screen to Jessie.
As Jessie read it, something stabbed her right in the heart.
“My God,” she muttered.
“I know,” Rachel replied. “It’s a pretty intense email.”
“It’s not that,” Jessie said. “It’s the email address that she’s sending it to, the email address that belongs to the person Lara was talking to before she died. I recognize it.”
“What?” Rachel asked, jerking backward in shock. “Whose is it?”
“I can’t believe this,” Jessie said, her mouth going dry. “It’s Roman’s.”
21
“Calm down,” Clint said, looking at his daughter from across the kitchen table. Chief St. James never liked to bring work home with him. In fact, more often than not, he refused to talk about his day while at home. It was a rule his wife had put in place for the dinner table, and it soon became one he liked so much that it just stuck for the rest of the house and the rest of the night.
This was different, though. Jessie had come in, rushing back from Savannah on two heels and practically screaming at the top of her lungs about how none of this made any sense. He had to hear her out. She wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a bit more subdued about thin
gs.
“I can’t understand what you’re talking about. You’re not making any sense,” the man continued.
“That’s because none of this makes any sense, Dad,” Jessie said, pacing around the kitchen like whatever she was looking for might be found in there. She knew different, though. Jessie knew that even after all she’d learned, she was no closer to the answer to any of this than she had been when all of it started. In fact, she might be even more confused now than ever.
“Start with the emails and work your way back again,” Clint said, leaning forward in his seat.
“Lara Edwards was communicating with the person Brendan got his drugs from,” Jessie said.
“Mickey?” Clint asked. “The same person you think killed her? The person who killed that Duncan boy?”
“No,” Jessie said, shaking her head hard. “At least, I don’t think so. This is the person above Mickey, the person responsible for feeding drugs to the suppliers who feed it to dealers.”
“Do you really have to wonder who that is?” Clint asked, narrowing his eyes at his daughter like she should already know the answer to that question.
“It’s not Salazar,” she answered quickly.
“You sure about that?” Clint asked, standing up. “You’re talking about drugs on the island, and for the last few years, that hasn’t been able to happen without Edgar Salazar knowing about it.”
“I know that,” Jessie conceded. “But this has never been Salazar’s method. He’s not a killer.”
“You don’t know what he is,” Clint said. “Besides, aren’t you the same person who thought he had to be responsible for Fallon Walker’s death?”