Someone needed to put a bullet in his brain. Boom-boom. A double-tap right to the forehead.
He looked away, staring straight ahead at the dumpster. A much safer view by far.
Finally, the passenger door opened and Roni boosted herself into the seat.
Wasting no time, he pulled out of the lot as she fastened her seat belt.
“I think you should take that puppy,” she said.
Ha. “No.”
“Why?”
“I like my freedom. Puppies need attention.”
“Not that much. He can hang out with you in your workshop.”
“And when I want to go out on my bike for a few days?”
She turned sideways, adjusting the seat belt so it didn’t rub against her neck. “You know the family that drives you crazy? They’d probably be willing to help. I think Maggie would love it. Especially if she decides to take one. They can play together.”
“If she takes it for the K-9 unit, it’ll live with the handler.”
“Okay, smartass, what if Maggie decides she wants a pet? Forget K-9.”
He could see it. Just to screw him, Maggie would adopt one of those damned dogs. “I can’t.”
“I think you want to.”
He made a right, heading toward the highway. The sun blinded him and he smacked the visor down. “What’ll happen is, the first time I want to blow out of town, the dog’ll look at me like I’m abandoning him and I’m not dealing with that. I don’t want to resent him for loving me.”
And, wow. What. The. Fuck? “Wow,” he said. “I can’t believe I said that.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.”
He was way more than embarrassed. He was fucking mortified. “That sounded bad.”
“It sounded honest.” She held up two hands. “I don’t know you well enough so this is just an opinion, but I think this is stemming from your frustrations with your family. I think you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with the puppy and then feel bad when he frustrates you. News flash, Way. He’s a puppy. Puppies frustrate everyone. It doesn’t mean you don’t love him. It’s that vicious cycle we talked about. You shouldn’t have to feel guilty about living your life. That’s all I’m saying.”
He glanced over at her, blew out a breath, and went back to the road. Total headshrinker. How the hell did she get all of that from one conversation? “It’s not guilt. Not totally.”
“Resentment. That’s what you said.”
Fuck me. He shouldn’t have said a word. Now, she sat there, psychoanalyzing him because that’s what shrinks did. And playing it back in his head it all sounded…lame. Like he was some selfish prick who only thought about himself. Maybe he was. He didn’t know.
What he knew for sure, for whatever reason, was that he didn’t want Roni thinking that of him. I’m so screwed. “It’s not like it sounds. I’m not—” He shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is I was on my own a lot as a kid. My mom was working and my dad had Shep to worry about. Then Riley came along and I was the classic middle kid. Maggie and Cash were doing their own thing with their high-school friends, so it was up to me to stay out of trouble and keep busy. And I did. It was fine. I wasn’t being an asshole about it. I did what I needed to and stayed out of everyone’s way.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter with his right hand and propped his other elbow on the door, tapping his fingers. “It’s ironic to me that back then nobody had time for me and now they’re up my ass all the time. That’s all. It’s frustrating and, yeah, I resent it a little.”
“Well, who could blame you? It’s not fair. They conditioned you to be one way as an adolescent and then changed the rules. I think you should talk to them. Be honest. Let them know all this. If talking to all of them is overwhelming, pick one person.”
“One? Ha. Good luck with that. It’s a committee atmosphere.”
“Too bad. Pick an ambassador who will carry the message to the others. Let them know it’s killing you and you don’t want to feel this resentment.”
She reached across, wrapped one hand around his arm and—dang it—why did she have to touch him.
“They love you,” she continued. “They’ll want you to be happy. And if you’ve never told them the constant checking up on you drives you crazy, they don’t know they’re doing anything wrong.”
Well, day-am.
He took the onramp to the highway and hit the gas. “I never thought of it like that. The whole conditioning part.”
“You’re caught up in that cycle. Let it go. Talk to them, give them an opportunity to correct it, and you’ll all be much happier.”
He let out a huff. “Sounds simple enough. Wondering why I didn’t think of it.”
“Again, it sometimes takes an outsider to see it.”
The road just ahead was clear of vehicles so he stole a quick look at her. Tough Roni Fenwick with her dark, sultry eyes and full lips that made him want to do all sorts of fun things with them. Fascinating woman. “Thank you. That…helps. It felt good to get it out of my system.”
“You’re welcome. Glad I could help.”
“Now all I have to do is pick an ambassador.”
That would take some thought. Maybe Cash. Or Maggie? He didn’t know.
He’d take some time and mull it over. At least he had a plan. One Ms. Roni Fenwick had given him. He didn’t want to like her. Not one bit. But she was so damned easy to talk to.
And that was a problem.
* * *
Ninety minutes later, Way pulled to the gate blocking the entrance to the community Bernadette Ambrose called home. According to its website, Moreland Lake offered over one hundred acres of mountain lake where residents hiked, camped, and enjoyed any number of water activities.
Home costs in this particular community started at a cool one million. Heck of a place to retire.
He tapped the radio off, silencing Jason Aldean, and lowered his window. After he gave the guard his and Roni’s names, they waited for him to make a call, and—boom—in like Flynn, as his mother liked to say.
Cruising along the lakefront road, he glanced at the gorgeous woman next to him and beyond her, out the window, the sparkling water, and the blue sky. It all felt…good.
He held his breath a second, then eased it out as he took it all in. Forced himself to be present in this one moment of peace.
Dang. How the hell did this complicated situation make him feel…what? Content?
Whatever it was, it was different.
He went back to the road, navigating as it curved around the lake. The cooler temps today kept kayakers away, but he imagined in another month the lake would be littered with residents enjoying a day on the water.
I could live here.
How often had that thought popped into his mind? Typically, he was all about leaving. Hitting the road. Exploring new places. He’d bought the house in Steele Ridge because of his family. In Steele Ridge, he wouldn’t become an old man with no one to help him get a pair of glasses.
This place? The water and the views?
The privacy.
Spectacular.
And with the way cash was flying into the business, in another year he’d be able to afford something here. A small weekend home.
#Goals.
“It’s nice,” he said.
“It is indeed.”
“This is where the party was?”
Roni nodded. “Yes. Every summer they’d throw a barbecue. The house is on the lake and his mom would rent extra kayaks and jet skis for everyone to play on. Gosh, that was a great day.”
She turned away, facing out the window and pausing for a few long seconds, while she sniffled softly. What was happening? And did she just swipe her right hand under her eyes?
"Roni?”
She popped the glove box open. “Any tissues in here? Oh, good. Napkins.”
“Are you okay?”
She wiped her nose, then crumpled the napkin. “Yeah. I just…had a moment, I guess. Two months after that cook
out, Jeff was gone. That fast, it was over.”
“Hey,” Way said. She peeled her gaze from the window and faced him. “I’m sorry we had to come here. You said he wasn’t married. His mother inherited everything. She’s the one who cleaned out his place. She might know something.”
“Like what?”
“I have no idea. That’s what we’re here for. Maybe she’ll let us look through his stuff.”
That statement was met with lips pressed so tight it would take a sledgehammer to bust through them. Pissing her off wasn’t his intention, but she of all people knew they had to start somewhere. Somewhere being Bernadette Ambrose.
Roni didn’t want to believe this guy might be dirty. Whether that made her loyal or a fool didn’t matter. Her willingness to protect her friend impressed the hell out of him.
“Last I heard, NSA analysts capped out at 150k a year. How did they afford this place?”
“Jeff’s dad. He invented a handheld explosive detection system. He started the company and ran it for a while. They had huge contracts with the DoD. He sold the company five years ago, and he and Jeff’s mom moved out here. Between the two of them, they had enough government contacts to start their own country.”
“They’re both retired?”
“His dad died a year after they moved out here. A shame, isn’t it? You work hard all your life, make a bazillion bucks, and wind up throwing a massive stroke.”
“What about the wife? She remarried?”
Roni shook her head. “No. Jeff told me his dad was the love of her life. I guess she can’t imagine being with anyone else. Which is really sort of sad, because she’s not old. Maybe late fifties.” She looked over at him. “Loving someone that much has to be a blessing and a curse.”
Way wouldn’t know. Not that he didn’t want that kind of love. In his mind, that might be cool. One person to focus on, to know he’d step in front of any threat for them. Except, that came with expectations and people up his ass all the time.
But waking up to someone each day wouldn’t be a horrible thing. “I don’t know. Might be nice to have someone like that. A reason to get out of bed every day. A purpose.”
“You have a purpose now. You’ve built a business.”
“Yeah, but that’s…I don’t know. Material.”
And look at him getting all mushy. Him. The one whose family made him nuts.
Beside him, Roni stayed silent, but kept her focus on him. Analyzing him, as usual.
“What?” he said. “You don’t agree?”
“Material isn’t bad.” She gestured toward the windows. “Look around. I don’t see a whole lot wrong with this.”
“Yeah, but Jeff’s mom is alone.”
Jesus. Was this seriously him having this conversation?
“My mom was the love of my dad’s life. Look where it got him. Loving people that much is dangerous.”
And he thought he was a cynic? “Where is she now?”
She gawked at him. “My mother?”
“Yeah.”
“According to her tax return, she lives in Santa Ana with husband number four.”
Way let out a whistle. “You don’t talk to her?”
“No. Though there’s a twisted part of me that likes to know if she’s still alive. Every year I run her through the system to keep tabs. Sick, right?”
He shrugged. “Who’s to say? I mean, she’s your mom. She left you. You have a right to be curious.”
He couldn’t wait to hear her response. The woman flat out fascinated him. Thinking back on it, Way’s parents, busy with Shep and his mom’s career, might not have always been available, but when they were, it was all kids all the time. Always paying attention, always taking the time to listen and offer advice.
For that, he should thank them. Tonight. He’d stop by the house and let them both know.
His GPS chose that moment to kick in and announce he’d reached his destination.
Roni peered straight ahead. “It’s the one on the right. And, I don’t know.”
“Sorry?”
“You said I have a right to be curious. I don’t know about that.” She pointed out the window. “Turn here.”
He pulled in and followed the winding, tree-lined driveway that curved around a three-car garage. The large, multilevel stone home sat at an angle, with two-thirds of it facing the sparkling lake. The builder did this one right because, even from the circular drive in front of the house, Way had a view of the lake. Hell, he could sit here all day.
This was what two million bucks bought.
He’d have to start saving more.
He killed the engine and slid out of the car, inhaling the crisp lake air. He held his arm out, resting his hand on Roni’s back for a second as she fell in step beside him. At the brick steps leading to the front door, he held her elbow as they climbed. Ms. Independence shot him a look, but didn’t bother pulling away.
“Good breeding,” he said. “My mom would kill me if you fell.”
“Sure. Blame your mother.”
He gave her a smile and rang the doorbell. While they waited, Roni ran a hand over her button-down shirt and hiked the neckline of her tank top a little higher.
The front door opened, revealing a petite woman with short, grayish blond hair. She wore light makeup that, along with cropped bangs, enhanced bright blue eyes and gave her an ethereal quality.
Her fitted black sweater framed a silver peace sign hanging on a leather cord around her neck. Dark jeans hugged her lean body. Way assumed a little yoga might be involved, which would explain the whole Zen, cool vibe.
“Hello, dear,” she said, holding her arms to Roni. “It’s lovely to see you.”
Accepting the hug, Roni stepped inside, wrapping her arms around the woman. “Hi, Bernadette. Thank you so much for seeing us.”
“Of course. You know any chance I get to talk about Jeff, I’ll take.”
The two backed away from the hug, holding eye contact for a few seconds before Roni turned back to Way, her eyes once again moist. Tough day for rock-hard Roni Fenwick.
“Way Kingston, this is Bernadette Ambrose. Jeff’s mom.”
For such a little thing, the woman had a solid handshake.
“Welcome,” she said. “Come in.”
She led them down an open marble hallway with a large winding staircase leading to the second floor.
“This is a great house,” he said.
“Thank you. My husband designed it. His dream home, I suppose.”
They reached an archway that opened to a glass-walled great room with an adjoining kitchen. The giant center island caught his attention. Man, his mom would love that for their family dinners.
Bernadette pointed to the sitting area in the great room. “We’ll sit in here. Can I get you anything? Tea, water?”
Both declined, and Way held his arm for Roni to lead the way to the sofa.
“So.” Bernadette settled into a deep-cushioned chair across from them. “What can I do for you? I know there hasn’t been any status change in my son’s case. I call them every week and every week I get the same response: no new leads.”
Roni scooted to the edge of her seat. “I know. It’s maddening. There’s another case that’s come up, though. I’m not at liberty to give details, but…well…with your contacts, you can probably find out on your own.”
Bernadette pursed her lips. “I’m assuming this is a CIA matter.”
“Yes, but there’s an odd angle.”
“I always love those. What do you have?”
“A gang shooting.”
“And this involves the CIA how?”
When Roni paused, Way took over. Outside of the NDA he’d signed, he wasn’t a government employee. Still, he’d have to tread carefully here. “It’s the ammunition used in the shooting. It’s…unique.”
Bernadette focused her laser-sharp blue eyes on him. “I’m sorry. Which agency are you with?”
“I’m not, ma’am. I’m a gunsmith.”
If that revelation shocked her, she breezed right over it. “I see. So you have an interest in this unique bullet?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
He held his hands wide.
“You’re not at liberty either.” She waved it off. “No worries, young man. As Roni said, I have my own resources. For now, what is it I can help with?”
He’d let Roni take that one.
“One of the dead gang members was being investigated by the task force Jeff and I were on. I’m wondering if...I hate to ask.”
“It’s all right, dear. I know how these things work. You want to know if Jeff ever shared anything with me about the case.”
Roni nodded.
“I’m sorry to say, he didn’t. Frankly, I begged him. I was so bored after I retired and thought, with my background, I might be able to help. He wouldn’t hear of it. I suppose I should be proud of him for that. Now I wonder, if he’d confided in me, would we know who killed my only child?”
“I wish I had answers, too.”
Way’s stomach pitched. The last damned thing he wanted was to distress a grieving woman. But, hell, it had to be done and he wasn’t about to make Roni do it. “Mrs. Ambrose,” he said, “I’m gonna be really rude here. My mother would skin me if she knew.”
The older woman let out a laugh. “A boy afraid of his mother. I do appreciate that. Go ahead and say it. I assure you, it won’t be the first time someone has been forward.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Did your son leave any case notes we could look at?”
She eyed him for a few seconds, then leaned in. “Let’s cut to it, shall we? You think my son is somehow involved with this unique bullet? I can assure you, my son was clean. Believe me, I’ve been through every piece of what he left behind.”
Roni cleared her throat and gave Way the stink eye. “No. That’s not what he’s saying. We’re starting with what we know. That’s all we can do. And we know one of the men killed with this bullet was a man Jeff was investigating. But Jeff was good, and I think there may be notes or something in his phone or on his laptop. Something that was missed.”
Way met the woman’s eye. She’d already busted him on his suspicions about her son. Might as well play it out. “Think of it this way,” he said. “We’re fresh eyes. There might be something we see that’ll connect some dots. Maybe help solve your son’s murder. If he left notes, we may all get what we want.”
Burning Ache Page 12
