Writing on the Wall

by Jenna Rae

  She paused. She’d never said so many words at once, and she was exhausted from the effort of not looking at Del, who’d risen abruptly from her chair and was standing at the window. “Use me, please.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “As what,” Del spat out, “live bait?”

  She whirled around, stopped, and forced herself to calm down. When she continued again, her voice was low.

  “Phan,” she began, “it’s not an option.” She was prepared to fight but saw that Phan agreed with her.

  “No,” he replied levelly, “of course not.”

  He turned to Lola. “Lola, I appreciate your courage. I understand that this—” he waved around the room, “isn’t a fun lifestyle. That you’re tired of being scared and being chased out of your own home. None of this is fair, and of course you want to get back to your normal life. I also suspect that you’re concerned about Mason, about Del, getting hurt.”

  Del started to protest, and he shook his head. “You might not like it, but she’s obviously worried that you’ll cowboy up and get yourself killed. Right?”

  Lola shrugged a reluctant yes, and Phan continued, “Lola, I’m here to keep the situation as controlled as possible. Del can’t go on a tear,” he eyed Del, “and neither can you. This guy has already shown us that he’s unpredictable and dangerous, and we have to get a step ahead of him. Not by staking you out in the forest like a little rabbit and waiting for him to show up with his stomach growling.”

  He waited for Lola to smile at his analogy. “Del and I will find him. That’s our job. Your job is to stay here, watch TV, eat takeout and listen to us. Okay?”

  Lola nodded. After a few minutes of small talk, Phan asked her for privacy. She nodded, repeated her thanks, and left the room.

  “You handled that well,” Del commented in a quiet voice.

  Phan met her eyes. “She’s too attached to you, Mason. And you’re way too distracted by your personal feelings.” He sat back.

  “I know,” Del agreed, biting back a reflexive argument.

  He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you’d fight me on that one.”

  She shrugged and waited.

  “Did you tell her about the cameras?”

  “No reason to.”

  “You don’t think she has a right to know?”

  Del waggled her hand in a maybe gesture. “When things are settled down, when she’s not scared anymore. What’s the point of creeping her out? Besides, we’re playing it like we didn’t find them, and she can’t lie for shit. So if we tell her, and he knows we know, because we told her—”

  “How would he find out from her? How could it matter if he’s gotten to her?”

  Del made a face. “Listen, I’m not as objective as I should be, okay? But I do realize there’s a possibility she’s dirty and she knows or suspects who this is and isn’t telling us. And this is all some kind of setup for who the hell knows what. I just figure there’s no payoff to telling her until we know more.”

  “Pretty damn cynical,” Phan said, shaking his head. Del was about to defend herself when he smiled. “Smart, too.”

  She smiled back at him. “Is that a compliment?” She faked a heart attack, and he laughed.

  “You don’t completely suck as a partner,” he admitted with mock grudging, and she smiled again.

  “See? Was that so hard?”

  “My turn,” he said and batted his eyelashes at her.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “You’re too kind,” he intoned in a Southern belle’s coo.

  She ignored that. “You’re smart,” she said, “a good listener. You don’t have a big ego. You keep your cool. You have a good mind for sifting through a mountain of information and knowing what’s important. I noticed that on that domestic. And again tonight.” She hesitated. “But I think maybe you wish you had someone else with you on this.”

  She saw him consider before answering. “I like working with you. I think we have similar styles. But you’re an alpha, and so am I. And that might not work out too good. We both like to be in charge, and I need you to know that I’m in charge, here.”

  “Well,” she answered slowly, trying not to get defensive. “You may be right. But I don’t wanna have a pissing contest with you. I know where I stand. This is your investigation. I happen to be involved because the vic is my friend, but you’re the big dog. You won’t have any problems with me.” She held his gaze and tried to project sincerity.

  Whether it worked or not, he nodded and rose. “Okay, enough mutual admiration,” he said, “call me if you need anything. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Phan.”

  “Yeah,” he said, opening the door and cocking his head to the side. “Mason?”

  She met his eyes with a questioning look.

  “No solo flights,” he said with a grim smile, and she knew he didn’t believe her. She couldn’t be mad. In his shoes, she’d have the same concerns. She nodded as he let himself out without looking back.

  “You hungry?” she called, and walked in to find Lola perched on the edge of her bed, grinning at her with a guilty face. She held up half of a chocolate bar. It was funny, seeing her perched there like that after having that dream. Lola couldn’t be any more different from Momma if she tried.

  “Nice dinner.” Del smiled as Lola made a face.

  “Want some?” She held out the chocolate, and Del reached down and snapped off a piece.

  “S’good,” Del mumbled around the candy, “but I need some real dinner. By the way,” she forced her voice to sound casual, “you don’t have to worry about me getting hurt.”

  Lola looked up with clouded eyes.

  “I’ve been a cop for twenty years, Lola. I know how to take care of myself.”

  Lola reddened. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you don’t.”

  “I know.”

  Del sat down next to her. She didn’t want Lola to think she was mad, but she wanted to make sure of her mindset. That was too hard to do while staring down at her big eyes and the hint of cleavage that peeked out of the top of her blouse. She needed to focus.

  “You knew I wouldn’t let you play bait.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t like it,” Lola admitted. “But it doesn’t seem so crazy to me. What’s wrong with taking control of the situation? Why not force his hand?”

  Del took her time answering. She would feel the same way, in Lola’s shoes.

  “It’s too dangerous,” she said finally, “too many variables. And Phan agreed,” she added. She watched Lola closely, wanting to be sure that Lola had dropped the idea.

  Lola nodded. “He seems nice.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You like pizza?” She broke off another piece of chocolate and watched Lola nod and do the same. So she can eat in front of me now. She’s starting to trust me.

  “What kind?”

  Lola shrugged, and Del watched her. “Cheese? Pepperoni? Veggie?”

  “I don’t care. It’s up to you.”

  “No way.” Del’s voice was teasing. “I mean, I know you’re Miss Polite and everything, but you have to know what kind of pizza you like. Pick!” she commanded, and Lola rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know. What do you like?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Pick!”

  Lola really didn’t know, because she hadn’t eaten pizza since she was maybe thirteen or fourteen. Orrin hated fast food and pizza in particular. She almost started to explain that, but she didn’t want to bring Orrin up to Del again.

  “Veggie?” She picked one at random.

  “Veggie, it is.” Del rose to order the pizza, and Lola realized that she had to rebalance herself on the bed. She’d been leaning closer to Del as they’d talked and hadn’t even been aware of it. When Del looked directly at her, Lola felt unbalanced in her brain, as well as in her body. Her eyes were the strangest color—like the ocean, blue and green and gray, too. They darkened or lightened with Del’s mood, and Lola s
ometimes tried to lighten them with teasing.

  Knock it off, she told herself. Del feels responsible for you. She feels sorry for you. But she doesn’t like you, not like that.

  But she kissed me, her hopeful side protested.

  Orrin t’sked her. “Lolly, she’s bored. She’s stuck in here with a stupid, boring cow, and she was just amusing herself.”

  She wanted to tell him to be quiet, but she wasn’t at all sure that he was wrong.

  She went to the window. The parking lot was nearly full, the restaurant across the street was crammed, and people were waiting outside for tables. Too bad they couldn’t go there and just be two normal people having dinner in a restaurant and complaining about the wait or talking about movies or doing whatever it was that people did in restaurants. What was Del’s favorite restaurant? Did she ever get dressed up and go out to a nice restaurant? Maybe she would wear a suit. She pictured Del dressed up in a nice suit with a haircut and a spring in her step and a gleam of pride in her eyes. She could see that but not herself at Del’s side—she didn’t fit into that picture. Someone better, someone beautiful and confident and smart, that was the kind of woman who belonged at Del’s side. Someone good enough to walk into some lovely restaurant on Del’s arm and smile up at her and make her heart beat faster. She swallowed hard. Was it wrong to wish she were good enough to be that woman?

  Del’s breath smelled like chocolate, as, she supposed, did hers. What if we kissed now? Would it taste like Del or like chocolate? She was startled when Del grabbed her arm and pushed her onto the bed. Her side burned, and she couldn’t get out more than a strangled cry. She flashed her eyes at Del’s face. It didn’t look angry, and Lola was confused.

  “Sorry.” Del pulled the curtains shut. “I realized how visible you were from the outside, and I guess I overreacted.”

  Lola still had her hands up in front of her, shielding herself. Did she even realize she was doing that?

  “Sorry,” Del repeated through tight lips. Lola nodded and apologized and thanked her.

  Lola eased into a sitting position, wincing.

  “Oh, damn, your stitches. Let me see.” She kneeled and eased up Lola’s shirt. Lola flinched a little, and Del frowned. She peeled back the bandage.

  No sign of infection, and the stitches were intact. It seemed to be healing. There was a scar not far from the edge of the bandage. Was that from a cigarette burn? It looked like it. There was another like it a few inches down. Another on her wrist. Del patted the bandage back into place and eased the shirt down with shaking hands.

  “Looks okay. Does it hurt?” Her voice was hoarse.

  Lola shook her head.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Del choked out the words. “That night. Or again. Or, you know, ever.”

  Lola frowned. “I know. It’s okay.”

  Del needed a distraction. She suggested they play cards until the pizza came, and she explained the game of poker to Lola. Not surprisingly, Lola was a terrible poker player. Her face was an open book. Del tried not to smile when Lola, examining her cards, tried to cover an exultant smile with a neutral expression. Within a short while, Del had let Lola win a huge pile of pennies from her.

  Lola made a face. “You let me win, didn’t you?”

  Del raised her eyebrows. “Who, me?”

  Lola rolled her eyes.

  “You’re a really terrible liar, Lola.”

  She made a face. “For all you know, I could be a very good liar!”

  Del laughed at her indignant response. “It’s not like that would be a good thing.”

  “I don’t know.” Lola looked thoughtful. “I wouldn’t mind being able to feel things without advertising them.”

  Del shook her head. “People lie all the time, especially to police. Pretend to feel things they don’t. Pretend not to feel things they do. It gets to where I figure everyone’s lying all the time.”

  “That’s terrible. How do you know who to believe, who to trust?”

  Del snorted. “Yeah, well, good question.” She wished they hadn’t started the conversation. She needed to talk to Lola about what exactly she was hiding, and this conversation wasn’t making that any easier.

  “I’m sorry, Del.” Lola’s eyes were warm, sympathetic, kind. Del forced herself to focus on the questions she needed to ask.

  “Listen. I wondered if maybe the guy might have been looking for something in your house. Like maybe the little pipe bomb was to scare you out. Maybe that’s why he didn’t actually hurt you with a more destructive explosive. And he did it while I was in the house. Maybe he figured I’d make sure you didn’t get hurt, the house didn’t catch fire, I don’t know. If, uh, if he was looking to find something in the house, any idea what that could be?”

  Lola frowned. “What do you mean? Like, money or jewelry or something?”

  Del shrugged. The timing was wrong. She should have waited.

  “Who knows?”

  A knock on the door stopped her, and she waved Lola into the bathroom before she opened the door for the pizza guy.

  “Okay, all clear,” she called after he’d left.

  Lola held out two cans.

  “Root beer or diet?”

  “Root beer, all the way.”

  “Good. I like diet.”

  Del laughed. “Nobody likes diet soda, not really. Y’all just drink it to stay skinny.”

  “Skinny? Ha!” Lola puffed out her cheeks. “I didn’t know you were a comedian.”

  Del snorted. “Oh, God, you’re not one of those, are you?”

  “One of what?” Lola smiled, but she looked nervous.

  “Women who don’t eat.”

  “Ha, again!” Lola rolled her eyes. “Hand over the pizza, or you’re in big trouble, lady.”

  Del laughed. “All right, tough guy, I give. Sure you have enough room after all that chocolate?”

  Lola flushed, and Del realized that she’d taken it the wrong way.

  “Kidding, kidding,” she said, setting the pizza down on the table. “I had as much chocolate as you did, and I’m starving!”

  Lola smiled, but it was reflexive. Del washed her hands and took a second to remind herself that Lola was still flinchy. It would take time before she stopped thinking she was about to get attacked any second. Those raised hands, those scars. She had to stop giving the girl a reason to be scared. She pushed her hair back with an impatient hand.

  “Oh, Del, there aren’t any plates. What should we do?”

  Lola was standing by the table with a look of genuine distress on her face.

  Del laughed. “Oh, my, whatever will we do? The governor and the queen are expected any minute, and where is our fine china?”

  Lola smiled, her real smile, and, God, that smile was worth everything. Del dried her hands on her pants and headed over for dinner wearing a gomer grin a mile wide. I’ll question her tomorrow.

  ***

  Eating with Del was a strange experience, and Lola felt self-conscious when they sat across from each other at the small table. They ate over the pizza box, and Del teased her about trying to find a fork to eat with. She grabbed a slice and heaved it at her mouth, and Lola giggled and rolled her eyes. Del’s face had worn a haunted look since they’d left the house, but now she seemed to relax a little. After the last goodnights had been said and the last silly jokes had been exchanged, Lola lay in her huge, empty bed and imagined that they lay in the same bed. She imagined that Del’s hand held hers, Del’s lips sought hers, and the cold sheets were warmed by the heat of their bodies.

  Orrin started to make some snide comment, but Lola turned onto her unhurt side and away from where he perched on the edge of the bed.

  “Leave me alone,” she whispered. “You can’t talk to me anymore. I’m not listening to you.” She covered her ears, feeling silly, and tried to recapture her little daydream, but The Creep was there, too, and he and Orrin chased her into her dreams with their greedy, grasping, hurting hands.

  Chapter T
wenty-Two

  Del shook her head. “It’s like looking for a needle in a giant fucking mountain of needles!”

  Phan frowned. “That’s exactly what we’re doing. We just need to find the one that’s bent the right way.”

  He left for a while. To do what, Del couldn’t have said. She was distracted, pinging without knowing why. What he’d said about how they had to find the one that was bent the right way kept nagging her. What was it about that thought that kept clicking for her? She couldn’t put it together.

  The next several days felt like an exercise in futility. Del went over everything, compared notes with Phan, and went over everything again. She checked in with the team going through Lola’s hate mail, but nothing stood out.

  Jones continued his work on Lola’s computer, which he’d nicknamed the Lolasaurus. He also set up an online trap, looking for “Joan.”

  “Get her to buy something from this millennium,” he complained. “This thing runs on dinosaur shit.”

  “You should see her car,” Del muttered.

  He would continue to work on it, but he didn’t seem hopeful.

  Of the rest of the team, Johnny Dominguez was focused primarily on Lola’s life. Everyone she’d ever met, talked to or lived near went under the microscope. He pulled Del aside and asked if he was supposed to look into Del herself, too. He looked away, shuffled his feet. Del thought all he needed was a cap to twist in his hands or a cowlick to tug on.

  She nodded. “Of course.” She smiled in what she hoped was a friendly way. He nodded, looking more unsettled than reassured. She saw that Phan and a couple others were watching, and she kept her cool on the outside but walked away fuming. Sometimes being a cop’s like living in a damned soap opera.

  The list she gave Dominguez was pretty long. A few dozen cons, of course, and suspects who’d gotten away with their crimes but who might consider her a burr under their saddles. There was also Janet, or maybe somebody mad at or about her. There was a drug dealer-cum-politician whose nose she’d broken a few years before, and her old landlord, who’d made the mistake of walking unannounced into her apartment while she was in the shower. She’d reached out to the back of the toilet tank, grabbed her weapon and pointed it at him, and he’d pissed his pants. He might have held a grudge. And, of course, there were a few guys on the job who wouldn’t mind if she fell down a well, but she didn’t include their names. They wouldn’t do it this way, any of them, and it would be unfair to put Dominguez in the position of having to clear them.