"I heard her boyfriend did it," I murmured, feeling awful for intruding on their grief. Then I reminded myself that closure would help them grieve, and the only way they would get that would be to put her murderer behind bars.
"Oh no. Nathaniel wasn't her boyfriend," said Gretchen, with the air of someone who knew the people involved and with absolute certainty. "I mean, they went on a couple dates, but there wasn't any pizzazz. They were friends. I can't believe he would do this to her, you know."
"They didn't arrest him for nothing! He had her blood on his shirt," pointed out Denise, her voice cold and decisive. "Like, it was a crime of passion or something."
"Was she dating someone else?" Ruth gave me a funny look and I backpedaled, realizing how odd my prying must seem to these women, grieving for their friend. I went for casual commentary as I shuffled the papers in my hand. "I just wondered. I mean, there are so many cute guys on base. I thought, maybe he was jealous or something?" I flashed a glance at Gretchen, my best bet for backup.
"Sure. Tons," agreed Gretchen, "but I don't think Jillian was into anyone. We're all really close here. She would have said... Oh hello! Super cutie at three o'clock. Girls, you should see this one! A butt like freshly baked buns. Skin like a fresh, hot, cappuccino. A body for sins I'd like to confess to."
I didn't need to look out the window to know who that was. A minute later, the bell above the door rang and all three women craned their heads to get a look. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My stomach flipped.
"Hello, sweetheart," said Solomon, his smooth voice reaching me.
I turned in my chair and overcompensated with a smile that was one step below manic. "Hi, honey!"
Behind me, Gretchen sighed.
"Ready for lunch?" he asked. "I just ran twenty miles and I'm starving."
I'd be dead at ten miles, probably eating dirt. One look at Solomon told me he didn't seem to have even broken into a sweat, though his biceps bulged satisfyingly under his tight t-shirt.
"These are my new colleagues," I said as Gretchen sidled closer, probably for a better look. I can’t say I blamed her. "Ruth, Denise and Gretchen."
"Pleased to meet you all, ladies." Solomon flashed them a smile that was all white teeth and promise as he rested his forearms on the desk and leaned in. "Can you recommend somewhere to get a decent sandwich?" he asked. Behind the polite smile, I saw him assessing their size, calculating whether any of them could have killed Jillian. I knew that because I'd done the same thing. I decided it was a remote possibility if they surprised her, and not all that likely. The part of me that still didn't quite believe I was a PI had a brief yearning for his approval of my assessment, but I'd be damned if I'd beg for one.
"I can," said Gretchen. She actually held up her hand to answer like an eager school girl.
"Why don't you come with?" Solomon suggested, flashing her a heart-stopping smile. "I'm sure my wife would be happy to have a new friend along."
Not one that was going to drool over my pretend husband, I thought, but whatever. If Gretchen concentrated on him, she might get a bit more loose-tongued about Jillian and Sergeant Tate.
"We'll all come," decided Ruth, checking Denise, who nodded and shrugged. "We usually all head out for lunch together anyway," she explained simply. I was sure it had absolute nothing to do with Solomon that they all seemed ready to go for lunch right now.
"Great." Solomon rubbed his hands together, probably feeling the man, now he'd gotten his entourage. I grabbed my purse and gave him a withering look as I crossed into the reception area. He gave me a “what?” face and took my hand, sending a burst of electricity crackling through me. He laced our fingers together, tightening his around mine so I couldn't slip free. Not that I wanted to. His palm was dry and warm, his thumb rubbed my skin, and then he gave my hand a little squeeze. A friendly squeeze, I decided, all part of the undercover act. Nothing more. Now I thought about it, I couldn't remember if I'd ever held his hand before. Solomon didn't strike me as a hand-holder. There was something predatory about him; not pushy, but as he once told me, any inclination of interest from me and all bets were off. He was honest and respectful. He knew about my relationship with Maddox, and that I was a one-man woman. And he kissed like a man who made it his mission to win.
As far as he knew, Maddox and I were just fine. It was probably wise to keep it that way. It could possibly be the wisest thing I ever did.
"How's it going at the gym?" I asked, pushing Maddox out of my mind as we stepped outside and around the corner. The clouds had rolled back, leaving a clear blue sky, but there was a decidedly cold nip in the air as we followed Ruth. We were flanked on either side by Gretchen and Denise, as we made our way towards the sandwich bar that she said they went to most days.
Solomon lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. "The guys aren't in bad shape. Well, some of them aren't so bad, but with the gym being shut off for a week, they've gotten lazy. I thought a friendly run would get them started." He laughed and Gretchen turned back, sighing, before turning away again.
"Why was it shut?" I asked, even though I knew perfectly well.
"That was where Nathaniel worked," Gretchen said, glancing back again over her shoulder. As the silence grew, she filled in helpfully, adding in a quieter voice, "You know, the guy they arrested, Jillian's friend."
"That so?" said Solomon, playing dumb. "You must be all cut-up about your friend.”
Gretchen dropped back to walk by me, ducking her head forward to look at Solomon as she talked. "Yeah. We were just telling Lexi how much we miss Jillian. We sent her flowers to her parents and sister, Roxy, but it doesn’t feel like enough, you know." Gretchen inhaled hard while chewing her lower lip. If I weren’t mistaken, her shoulders shook very slightly before she righted herself. I wasn’t big pals with grief, but I could see a woman who was hurting for her friend, even though Jillian no longer suffered.
"Kind of late to be working alone, I hear. Should I be worried about Lexi?" Solomon asked her, drawing her focus back to him.
"Oh no! We never have crime on base. Well, except for what happened to Jillian. Besides, we all leave together now. We'll look after Lexi. Promise."
"I guess they got the crime on surveillance video anyway," fished Solomon, glancing away, making the conversation easy and almost disinterested. I noticed we slowed our pace, putting a little extra distance between our trio and Ruth and Denise.
Gretchen wrinkled her forehead. "Our video camera hasn't worked in weeks. Every time someone comes to fix it, it fizzles out again. I don't think it's been a big priority. We all feel so bad for not insisting someone replace it."
"It's not your fault," I said. "You couldn't have known. It's not like Jillian was afraid of anyone, right? She couldn't have known what would happen."
Gretchen did the forehead wrinkle thing again. "I guess," she said, but she fell silent after that and I wondered if I'd managed to plant a seed of doubt.
We crowded around a Formica table for lunch; plastic-wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water littering the table in front of us. Solomon put on a charm offensive, joking with the women, asking them about themselves and the base, apparently hanging on every word and saying lots of flattering things about me. He made me go pink before he excused himself, saying he had to go whip some more butt at the gym. He dropped a kiss on my cheek as he left and I had to resist the urge to raise a hand to touch the skin his lips touched.
"Your husband is fabulous," said Gretchen, hooking her arm through mine on the way back. "He's got brothers, right? They didn't just break the mold after him?"
I laughed, avoiding the question, because it struck me that I didn't actually know anything about Solomon's family set-up. He was still very much an enigma to me. I could tell you that the bag he brought with him was neatly packed, and he picked up after himself around the apartment. I knew his brand of toothpaste and shower gel and how he took his coffee. I couldn't tell you anything about his family, or much about his career,
other than I'd met him while he was working a joint taskforce with the police after he was on loan to the FBI from nobody knew where. I knew that he specialized in financial crimes, but I didn't know how or why. I knew he kept in great shape, but I didn't know where he got the scar on his forearm. There was a lot I didn't know about him, but what I did know commanded my respect.
Solomon is a man of honor; when he gives his word, he means it. He's well spoken, smart, dedicated and hard-working. In those respects, he's a lot like Maddox. But right now, Solomon was a lot more loyal to me than Maddox. He believed in me too. I suspected a lot of kindness when he wanted to be, though kind had no place in Solomon's world, not when he was working anyway. That was when his focus was a hundred percent business. Once upon a time, he wanted to bed me, but didn't push the point, though he made his attraction known from time to time. Although I feel affection for him, I don't need to shout it for him to know. I truly believe he is very fond of me.
"Solomon is very much his own entity," I said, sticking to the first rule of undercover ops: keep it simple, vague and close to the truth. "I don't think there's two of him anywhere in the whole world."
"Shame. I'm tired of soldiers."
"Why's that?"
"Too much testosterone."
"Ruth and Denise's men are both soldiers," I pointed out.
"Yeah, they got good ones. Me, not so lucky. Jillian told me not to worry. She was always saying that the right guy will turn up when I least expect it."
"That what happened to Jillian?" I asked, thinking fate had dealt her an altogether different and very unfair hand.
Gretchen shook her head. "Nah. She wasn't interested in anyone. Actually, she seemed kind of preoccupied lately. She was taking night classes and her dad broke his leg and she had to help him out a lot so she was probably tired. I don't think she had any time for dating."
"Oh." There went the violent boyfriend idea, not that we’d entertained one seriously.
"So is that what happened to you?"
"What?"
"Your guy turn up when you least expected it?"
"Yep. Getting married came totally out of the blue too." Boy, did it ever.
Gretchen sighed. "I should be so lucky."
Yeah, maybe she'd wake up one day and find someone had stuck a ring on her finger too. It was a whole lot better than seeing the man you thought you were falling in love with playing fancy free with another woman.
"You will be," I assured her, because although I might have given up on Maddox, I hadn't given up on romance. I blamed it on Hollywood's brainwashing and my lost teenage years spent devouring romance novels. There was probably someone out there for me too. The bad thing was if he approached anytime soon, I'd probably run away screaming that I was done with men.
The only ones I wanted to catch were the bad ones.
Chapter Six
Ruth told me to go home early so I left at four-thirty, and was outside the small apartment complex fifteen minutes later. As far as the day went, it had been a fairly average first day. The work they’d given me were the menial tasks, which was fine. The rest of Jillian’s work along with Tammy’s, the other woman that I’d yet to meet, was shared between the three of them. All three of them were warm, friendly and quite pleasant to me. I struggled to imagine any of them attacking Jillian; but I reminded myself to remain on my guard. Just because I couldn’t see it didn’t mean that rage wasn’t lurking somewhere there.
As I unlocked the door to the building, holding it open for a young woman to step out, I fished my phone from my bag and dialed Lily. When she answered, there was a lot of noise in the background.
"Hey, how's it going?" she chirped in her usual bubbly way. "Are you ready for revenge yet? Ruby showed me this great trick with raw prawns that will keep Maddox stinking for weeks."
"No revenge. I skipped anger and denial, choosing to go straight to calm acceptance—” I waited while Lily made a rude noise. “—As for the first thing, going slow," I replied, trudging up the stairs and unlocking the door to the apartment. I kicked my shoes off in the small entrance area and walked into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed. The mattress groaned in protest. "Undercover work isn't what they make it out to be in the movies."
"Is anything, sweetie?"
"No. Where are you?" I could hear music, dull thuds, then a cheer. "It sounds loud."
"I'm with Jord at the bowling alley. Garrett, Traci and the kids are here, too."
"I'm gone a few days and you've already commandeered my family?"
"I've been doing it for years, you know that. What's yours is mine."
Lily was the closest thing to a sister I had, besides my own sister, obviously. She'd been a regular fixture at family dinners since high school, something she combined with covertly mooning over Jord, the last single Graves man. If Jord hadn't come to his senses and asked her out when he did, I was fairly certain my mother would have introduced Lily to every single cousin we had in an effort to keep her in the family. If that failed, she would probably have adopted her. I had no reservations giving her Jord. I figured it was a win-win situation. She'd either keep him or give him back, much improved.
"Don't let me interrupt," I mumbled sullenly, the brief sensation of being replaced crossing my mind. I immediately wiped it. My personal circumstances had nothing to do with it. I wanted Lily to be happy. That's what best friends did. I rubbed my stomach, as if pushing away the homesick ache permeating my body.
"Silly. What's up?"
"I just wanted someone to talk to," I confessed as I picked at the button of my shirt. I was popping it in and out of the hole until the thread started to give and I had to force myself to leave it alone.
"Solomon not much of a conversationalist?"
"Actually, he's okay." Okay was an understatement. Solomon always managed to inspire thoughts that ran the gamut from lust to admiration, but he wasn't a big conversationalist around the office. Unfortunately, that's where we kept most of our interactions unless it was the rare occasion where I accompanied him on a job, or the one occasion where he invited me to his house. Being thrown into close quarters with him had given me a chance to see a whole new side, and it wasn't just what he looked like first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Hanging out with him helped occupy my mind. He was funny and warm, along with being a brilliant investigator. I wondered what impression he was getting from me, given that our op had started with my hangover, traversed into maudlin, and was now a touch grumpy. "He's kind of fun to hang out with. We scoped out our victim’s office and I’m working there, getting close to her colleagues."
"Yeah? He put the moves on you yet?" said Lily, cutting to the chase.
"Lily!"
"What? You've spent two nights in a one-bedroom apartment. Like it never crossed your mind."
"Never," I lied. "Besides, it's too soon. I feel like shit. And Solomon is sleeping on the couch."
"Poor Solomon. As for Adam Maddox, never let a man make you feel that way, honey. He did something nasty and that's on him, not you. No way is it a reflection on you."
"Good point. Thanks." I heard some mumbling on the other end of the line as Lily murmured something in response. "Who's that?" I asked.
Her voice came back on the line. "Jord. He wants to know where you are."
"Didn't you tell him?"
"No. I figured you might not want me to tell him where you're playing Action Woman."
"More like Sloth Woman. That hangover lasted way too long. You can tell him I'm at Fort Charles, but tell him I'm working a job."
There was some more mumbling, then Lily said, "He wants to know if you're okay. Hang on. Now he wants the phone."
There was some shuffling and someone shouted, “Score!” then Jord came on the line. "What are you doing in Fort Charles?" he asked, gruffly.
"Working a job. I'll be a week or two." I picked at some imaginary lint.
"You with anyone?"
"My boss, Solomon."
There was
quiet, then, "There gonna be any trouble?"
"I hope not." I really hoped not. I'd seen enough corpses to last me a lifetime or two. "We're just investigating possible motives in a murder for a friend of Solomon's."
"Jeez. Didn't you get shot at on your last job with that guy?"
"That guy's my boss, and I didn't get shot. That was when I was with Maddox."
Jord huffed. "What's going on with you and Maddox?" he asked next. "Lily won't tell me anything, but I saw him in O'Grady's last night and he looked grumpy as hell. Asked me if I heard from you."
"What did you say?" I asked, giving Lily a mental brownie point. Jord was a pest when he wanted to know something and she still hadn't 'fessed up. That said, given the noises that drifted through the ceiling from her apartment to mine, she probably had some creative ways to get his mind off it. If it carried on, I would probably have to move.
"Told him to call his own girlfriend. Then that I hadn't seen you, which is the truth. Somethin' goin' on between you and him? Huh?"
I stopped picking the lint and stared at the ceiling, my shoulders drooping. "You could say that. I saw him with another woman when he said he was working an undercover." God, was I ever getting sick of explaining that. On the plus side, every time I said it, it sank in a little more and the hurt made way for anger. Perhaps I hadn’t skipped that stage after all. Who the hell was Maddox to cheat on me? Hadn't I been a fairly awesome girlfriend? Didn't we have a fun time together? In and out of the sack? So he wasn't too keen on my job, but he hadn't issued any awkward ultimatums. And it was true that he helped me out with information now and again, and gave me the occasional pointers. As far as I could see, I hadn't done anything wrong. Which left one explanation. Maddox was a cad.
"Saw him like... no shit?" Realization dawned in Jord's voice.
"Like no shit," I confirmed with a sigh.
"You sure there wasn't some other explanation?"
Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) Page 7
