Trouble Comes Knocking (Entangled Embrace)

by Duncanson, Mary

  Walking quickly to our table, I hissed to John, “We have to go! Now!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Officer Len, I needed Eli’s help at that point. You understand that, don’t you?”

  He scraped his finger across his eyelid and then tugged at his earlobe. “What I understand is that you went willingly into a dangerous situation even after you were told explicitly to keep your nose out of it.”

  My hackles rose. “An innocent woman, a friend of mine, was being accused of something she didn’t do. A man was murdered and his killer still at large. And Captain Matheson practically wanted to package up Natalie for the DA, wrap a big red bow around her, and let things fall as they may. I couldn’t allow that.”

  Officer Len made a few notes on his notepad and spoke softly under his breath.

  “I heard what you said.”

  He looked up. Squinted his eyes. “Okay, so tell me, why do you think you’re better than an entire police force? Why did you have to be the one to go about saving the day?” This time saying it out loud.

  “I had to be the one because she’s my friend. I knew in my heart she was innocent when no one else did, when no one else wanted to help her. Captain Matheson was happy letting her take the fall for something she didn’t do. Of course I had to be the one.”

  “Eli, please call me back. It’s urgent. Please. We need to talk.” I hung up and continued to pace back and forth in John’s bedroom. I stopped and stared into the space above his head. “What are we going to do if he doesn’t get back to me? Obviously the police haven’t come across this yet, or they’d have also figured out Natalie isn’t guilty.” Plus, I still had to let Eli know he was wrong about John being the baddie.

  John leaned back on his bed, arms crossed under his head. He stared at his ceiling, and I could just about see his brain trying to process things. “We’ll have to storm the gates, so to speak,” he said, determination in his voice like I’d never heard before.

  I hated to admit it, but I liked this new John. Take charge, manhandle the situation. Not to say I didn’t like his sweeter side, too, but this side was seductive.

  Wouldn’t mind if he manhandled me a little.

  Maybe after Natalie was no longer looking at a fifteen-year sentence. And Mr. Winters’s killer was no longer trying to kill me.

  Still, I straddled his middle. Leaning down, I let my breasts press against his chest as I nibbled his bottom lip, teasing gently as he lifted his head for more. His hands came out from behind his head, and he pulled me closer. “This is nice,” he said in a warm-as-ginger voice. He nuzzled my neck and worked his fingers through my hair.

  I leaned my forehead against his and kissed the tip of his nose. “I wish this could all be less complicated.”

  I tried to get off him, but he grabbed my hips and held me tight.

  “Life is complicated, Lucy. I’ll take anything I can get from you.”

  “Mmmm,” I moaned. As his hips moved beneath me, my whole body heated. Then, inexplicably, my thoughts went to Natalie, then to the man outside my window. I thought about Roger Ridley possibly hunting me down, and a killer who had me in his sights. My sisters, my parents, Voeller. Over such a short amount of time my life became so complicated I couldn’t imagine throwing myself entirely into a relationship. Not even with John. “I wish I could give you so much more.”

  “You give me everything you can,” he said softly, his eyes half-lidded.

  Laying my head on his chest, I rested there for a few moments. Finally, I sat up and traced my fingers down his front, tucking my thumbs into the belt loops on his blue jeans.

  “What if I get into the game?” John asked, once again staring at the ceiling. “What if I go in through the back and say what the other guy said?”

  “The other guy also had money,” I reminded him. “I don’t know how much, but it didn’t look like a small amount.”

  “I have some money,” John said, still with the thoughtful look on his face. “As long as I don’t lose it, I can use it in the game.”

  Shaking my head, I rolled off and sat next to him. Sitting on top of him like that was too big a distraction. “We can’t risk that, John. Are you even good at poker?”

  “I’m all right. I mean, not World of Poker material, but I’ve won a few games in my day.”

  “John,” I said, hoping he understood that what I was about to say wasn’t to hurt his feelings. “We can’t depend on the couple of games you won keeping you in there long enough to hear something.”

  Sitting up, he said, “I’m not bad, and I’m offering up my own money. Really, it’s all my risk, so what’s the problem?”

  How do you soothe the feathers of a man who is trying to help but about to walk into a situation that could get him killed? I decided I had no way to soothe, so instead I’d talk logic. “I can do it,” I said.

  He shook his head and opened his mouth to argue, but I held up my hand, asking him to let me continue. “Listen. I know how to play poker, but more importantly I count cards. I can also fake not counting them. I used to play with Aunt Dolores and her old biddy friends. I know I can win just enough to stay in the game but not enough to make them suspicious.”

  “It’s not possible,” John argued, cheeks turning blotchy red. “I’m sure you can count cards, but you can also get yourself killed. I couldn’t live with myself. Besides, if these are the same people who killed Winters and are now trying to kill you, they know who you are.”

  Ignoring the last part, I took his hand and looked him in the eyes. “I know what I can do. I don’t get to use my ability for good that often. Please let me do this, let me see what I can find out.” They might know who I am, but I can’t go on living like this, terrified about when I might be shot at again. Or, worse, what if they went after Aunt Dolores or Ana or John next time?

  His lips puckered in disapproval, but he didn’t argue further. He closed his eyes and gritted his jaw as he thought about it. Waves of emotion washed across his face in the moments that followed. I felt a no coming and braced myself for the argument.

  “And you can help,” I offered, hoping it would make him agree.

  His eyes didn’t open. “How is that, Lucy?” He sounded tired now, like all the fun of this had drained and left behind nothing but the sick fear. I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t slept soundly since this started. Wouldn’t sleep soundly until it ended. Which is why I had to know the right person, a.k.a. not Natalie, would be locked away.

  “You’re all high tech and wired. You can monitor what is going on, record it. Make sure we get the evidence we need.”

  He opened his eyes and, while they didn’t appear as tired, the worry hadn’t left their edges, either. “We still don’t even know why Mr. Winters was killed.”

  “No, but maybe someone will let something slip. Maybe we can figure out who owns the car.”

  “Maybe you’ll get yourself killed.”

  My shoulders drooped.

  “Or maybe you’ll break the whole thing wide open and save the day.”

  I looked for the lie on his face and didn’t see it. His microexpression didn’t change, he didn’t shift his eyes to the left, or cover his mouth or touch his nose. These are all things I see on people who lie. He meant it, truly, and his vote of confidence gave me hope I hadn’t known in a long while. Wow, I thought, things might actually start to work out. “If anything happens, you have to get Eli,” I said. “I know you two don’t get along, but you have to get him.”

  The frown came back. “He’s not even returning your calls. How do you expect him to show up if you need him there?”

  “He just will,” I said with certainty.

  We decided on Friday night for the great poker heist, as we referred to it between us. Eli finally called me on Wednesday while I dressed for bed. “Where have you been?” I asked without so much as a hey, what’s up.

  “And a good day to you, too,” he drawled, using the Texas charm I’d only ever heard him use when flir
ting with the barista or trying to win over my aunt. Then his voice changed to a more serious, less-charming tone. “Lucy, I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s a great idea for us to talk anymore. I’m in big trouble for having you at my house. I acted inappropriately and dangerously, and I’ve been reprimanded.”

  “You also stopped a killer from killing me. Did anyone say anything about that?”

  “I could have gotten us both killed.”

  I tapped my foot as I held the phone. I didn’t know what to think. He’d become such a big part of my life over the past few weeks, I couldn’t imagine not having him around anymore. Especially because he tried to help me. “I don’t think it’s right,” I said, finally, an acute ache squeezing my chest. “But I guess I understand.” Only, I didn’t. Just saying it brought up a lump in my throat.

  This was a man who quite literally took a bullet for me.

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I could tell something else was on his mind. “Spill it,” I said. “What else aren’t you saying?”

  His silence burned a hole in the distance between us. “Lucy, Natalie’s charges changed last night. There is strong evidence implicating her in Simon Winters’s death, and there is nothing I can do to protect her.”

  I dropped the phone. Fumbling, I caught it and laid in. “She didn’t do it,” I wailed, imagining my sweet friend facing such horrible accusations. “You know she didn’t.”

  “I don’t, Lucy. All I know is that everything points to her, and if a horse has stripes, it’s probably a zebra.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter how much I don’t want her to be guilty. Everything points to her, which means she probably is. Sometimes there’s no protecting someone from themselves, no matter how much you want to try.”

  The last part was directed pointedly toward me, and I took it as such. “Thank you for that, Detective Reyes. I appreciate the heads-up. And thank you for believing in me so much when I’m telling you what I know.”

  I could hear the anger creep into his voice through the cracks that had formed in our relationship. “Truth is, Lucy, you’re playing cop when really you’re only an office worker. You never were an official consultant on this case, and I was wrong for leading you along. I thought I could get something from you and boost my career, but what I got was demoted and a whole lot of headaches. So clearly you don’t know nearly as much as you think you know, and you should stay out of things that are outside your area of expertise.”

  I tried to keep my own anger contained, but his words broke the fragile hope I’d had of continuing a relationship. How had I let myself believe someone as close-minded and driven as Eli could ever understand what I do? I’m not better than anyone else—God, I know that much—but I sure as hell hoped if it came down to my career or letting an innocent person rot in a jail cell, I’d pick the person. “Again, thank you for your words of wisdom, Detective Reyes. I believe we are done here. I hope you and your career have a long life together.”

  He didn’t say a word. Instead, the phone went dead before I could say anything further. Quelling the desire to throw my phone across the room, I instead slammed it onto my nightstand and ferociously brushed the freeze gel from my hair. His gall. His audacity! I didn’t know what I’d ever seen in Eli to begin with.

  I mean, to imagine someone talking to me like that, someone who’d treated me so tenderly only a few days ago. What kind of person does that? “A crazy person, that’s who,” I said out loud.

  Ana rolled over and squinted an eye at me. She usually slept through everything, so I must have been loud to have woken her. “It’s late, Lucy. Why are you still up?”

  “You’re already a model, don’t act like you need all that much beauty sleep,” I shot back. I flicked at a lint ball on my quilt and turned to face her. “Okay, so here’s the deal,” I started before telling her everything.

  A few minutes later, when I finished laying out my plan, Ana sat at the edge of her bed, fully awake. “Lucy, no offense, but you’re an idiot.”

  I pouted. That genuinely hurt. It’s one thing to have friends who can say anything to you at any time, it’s another entirely when they actually say those things. I didn’t think I appreciated it at all. “Offense taken. What’s wrong with my plan?”

  She stood and paced across the room. “You’re sneaking into a poker game—that is possibly hosted by the guy trying to kill you—to find out who is trying to kill you.”

  “And?”

  “You’re going to be your own bait. It’s like a mouse made of cheese setting a trap for itself, which is consequently also made of cheese.”

  “You aren’t making any sense,” I said, feeling defensive of our plan. It worked in theory, or at least in my mind, only hours ago. I didn’t appreciate all the hole-poking going on now. “Look. If he’s in there, he’ll recognize me, and I’ll know who he is.”

  “Because he’ll kill you!” she shot back. She picked up a stress ball from my desk and tossed it at my head.

  I batted it away. “Not in a room full of people.”

  “No, afterward, in a dark alley, or a warehouse somewhere where you’re forced into boots made of cement right before they introduce you to their favorite family fishing hole. You’re trying to make the same dumb move they do in all those movies. The move that everyone hates because no sane or real person would actually do something so idiotic. C’mon, think about this, Lucy.”

  She had a point. I did hate that in movies. And when the killer explains everything because he’s about to kill you anyway? Yeah. Like that ever happens.

  “So what would you suggest?”

  “Beers. Maybe wings. It’s only ten o’clock, and you’re right. I am way too pretty to be in bed this early. Let’s go out.”

  It had been a long time since we’d gone out for drinks, and after everything that had happened, it was way overdue. Not counting the East Texas-sized shit-storm that had befallen Natalie, I had my own crap to deal with and, quite frankly, when I thought about it, mine was a whole lot more fucked-up.

  “So Roger was some random dude who showed up at your parents’ place?” Ana asked as we shelled peanuts, tossing the shells on the floor as we went, and swallowed our beers. They’d been sent over by a guy at the bar.

  I picked at one of the shells, pulling the strings back and watching the salty dust fall to the table. “I still can’t believe he found me. I don’t know what he wants, and I haven’t heard from him since, so I’m hoping whatever it was he’s done and gone. Still, I can’t help wondering, you know?”

  “Cree-per,” Ana said in a singsong voice, tossing some shells at the feet of a woman passing by. She slipped slightly and looked around before walking on. Ana smirked, and I laughed out loud at my dumb friend.

  In the corner, some girls played pool. People stood all around the table, laughing, drinking. I hated people like that. No, envied them. Life came so easy, talking to their friends, flirting. I watched two of the girls as they joined in loudly with the song on the jukebox, arm in arm, wiggling suggestively to the hoots and hollers of their male companions. I had Ana, but my social circle was fairly limited. The girls started dancing, and not for the first time in my life I wished for normalcy.

  “I’m thinking he has something to do with Voeller and Elmer,” she said next, taking me out of my thoughts. “Think about it. We know you were taken from there, and these guys wanted to take you back. It was like a school, right?”

  “Right. But not back to Voeller. They talked about taking me somewhere else similar. Not any less horrifying, trading one girl’s prison for another, but that’s what they’d offered.”

  “So they knew about your parents and still didn’t tell Voeller where to find you. Maybe he’s a good guy?”

  “If he was, then why would he have wanted to take me away?”

  She chewed thoughtfully on her lip and, as if on cue, the waitress brought us two more beers, these from a guy playing pool. He tipped
his hat, and Ana wiggled her fingers back at him. The bar was packed for a Thursday night with a rowdy crowd watching the World Series around a large TV. “Time for wings?” I asked.

  “Hell, yes. And maybe some veggie sticks.”

  We ordered and drank, still thinking about how Roger fit in. Why had he wanted to take me away? I know my ability makes me stand out, but what made me, or my sisters, even, so special that people wanted to study us? Keep us imprisoned as lab rats and lock away the key until one day we snap and burn the place down? That’s what happened with Julie, I decided. She must have woken up one day and realized life existed outside the four walls of Voeller, and if they wouldn’t let her out, she’d burn her way out.

  It didn’t make what she did better, but it did make it understandable.

  In the weeks after the two men came to our place, my parents stayed on edge. There were a lot of late nights where I should have been sleeping but instead stayed up listening to them talk. “He’s going to come looking for her eventually,” my dad whispered one of those nights.

  That’s when I’d realized the men who came to our house were the least of my problems; I should be afraid of the bigger “he.” I spent a lot of nightmare-filled nights after trying to convince myself I’d misheard, or misunderstood.

  “If he does, you know what we have to do,” my mother said, her voice sounding sad. “We don’t have a choice. We have to protect her.”

  My dad shifted on their bed. He outweighed my mom by at least eighty pounds and when he rolled the bed made unmistakable Dad sounds. I’d listened outside their door enough nights that I could easily tell almost every movement my parents made. “Someday we’ll have to tell her the truth,” he said, clicking off their bedside lamp. “She needs to know.”

  The bed groaned as my mom rolled over. “She’s still a baby.”

  “But special.”

  “Very.”

  “And if we don’t tell her, she could end up in a lot of trouble she won’t even expect.”