"I was doing surveillance—on someone else, before you think I'm going stalker—and I saw them. It wasn't pleasant," I added as my stomach turned.
"That snake. That asshole! That son of a..." Jord made a strangled noise and I heard Garrett say something indecipherable.
"All of the above."
"Ah, I'm sorry, Lexi. I liked the guy." Disappointment sounded through the earpiece and wound around my heart.
"Yeah. Me too." I closed my eyes and focused on taking a deep breath. "Put Lily back on, would you?"
"Sure thing. Call me if anything comes up with the job. You got your gun?"
"No. Couldn't bring it on base."
"Then stick to Solomon like glue. You're a danger magnet."
"It's not like I go looking for it!" I protested. So far, it just seemed to find me. I wouldn't be sticking to Solomon like anything either, I thought, with a snort. Lily came back on the line and I heard her move somewhere more quiet. "Jord has a face like a bulldog chewing a nettle. What did you say to him?"
"Told him about Maddox."
"That would explain the sudden furtive whispering with Garrett."
I imagined Garrett's response to that, then shrugged. Maddox had made his own bed. "Jeez. Tell them to butt out."
"No problem. Listen I gotta go. It's my turn to bowl and if I lose, I'm buying the next round of chips, and your niece and nephews eat like they've never seen chips before."
"They’re bottomless pits. Go win. I'll call you later."
"Good. Then we can have a proper catch-up and you can tell me if Solomon has made a move yet," she added, her voice sprinkled with hope.
"Won't be happening."
"A girl can dream."
I hung up, but held onto the phone, the realization that I was single sinking in even further. Only Lily knew about my history of smooches with Solomon, not that there had been all that many. I thought she might have been trying to point out, not so subtly, that I was still attractive. I didn't disagree. My self-esteem might have taken a knock, but that didn't mean I couldn't look in the mirror and like what I saw. Of course, the situation that I was holed up with my boss in a small one-bedroom apartment, after he told me, not so long ago, that he wouldn't make a move while the cop, Maddox, was in the picture, was very clear. Maddox wasn't in the picture. Solomon was hot. I'd been damn horny right up until the point when it was replaced by the sick feeling I got at seeing Maddox's thigh being fondled by another woman.
All I had to do was remember Solomon was my boss.
Easy.
I held my phone up again. Seeing as I was in the mood to torture myself, and Solomon would be gone awhile, there was no time like the present to check my messages. The automatic voice told me to expect nine messages. Unprecedented for me. I almost felt popular.
The first three, all from Maddox, said the same thing. "Lexi, call me." I hit the button. Delete, delete, delete.
The fourth, "Lexi, it's Adam. Call me back. Please." Delete.
The fifth. "Lexi, this is your mother. I've signed us up for Wilderness Skills for Beginners at the rec center every Wednesday night. It sounds great! We'll find out how to identify edible grubs and how to make a raft out of fallen trees so we can survive if we ever get lost in a forest and need to escape via a nearby river. You'll need a rain jacket and a Swiss Army knife. Call me back."
I pulled a face. When would I ever get lost in the wilderness? My idea of roughing it was a hotel without twenty-four hour room service and no chocolates on the pillow. If I were ever going to get lost in the wilderness, it would be with someone who knew what he or she was doing, plus a backpack of food.
Then, Maddox again. "I need to talk to you. Call me on my cell."
"I'm going to be unreachable for the next couple days. Can you please call me? Lexi?"
The automatic voice time-stamped the next message as a day later. "It's Adam. Again. I'm still on the job, but I need to speak to you. I'll try you at home."
Finally: "Dammit, Lexi. Where are you? I got your messages, okay? I need to talk to you. Call me back."
I deleted them all, noting that the last one had been only a day ago. The tone changed from worried to annoyed, and finally, to exasperated. So, he was out of contact; well, so was I. I hovered my finger over the contacts tab, thinking about calling him back, maybe leaving a choice message or two of my own, but I really didn't want to talk to him if he picked up. I didn't want to hear any of the stock “It's not you, it's me” lines. I didn't want to hear why he'd chosen another woman over me. Or why he couldn't find it in himself to even dump me by text or email before starting up something new. I didn't want to know why it fizzled out. Maybe I would someday. But not now. Now, I simply wanted to heal the hurt in my heart and move on. I sent my message, kept it brief, and had nothing else to say. The photo definitely said everything.
There was no more Adam and Lexi. Maddox and I were through.
The lock clicked on the apartment door and pulled me out of my grump. I leaned over the side of the bed to look through the open bedroom doorway. From my half twist, I could see straight across the living room, over the couch to the door, just in time to see Solomon walking in, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Lexi?" he called, looking around. He probably saw my jacket where I folded it over the back of the couch, or my shoes where I kicked them off. I half expected him to add, “Honey, I'm home.”
I slid off the bed, tucking my cell phone into my pocket as I walked into the little living room. "Hi."
He ran his eyes over me, assessing what he saw, and I shivered under the weight of his gaze. "What's up?" he asked, apparently sensing something.
I brightened my expression as I tried to lose the tired look the heartache gave me. I considered telling him about Maddox, but that wasn't the proper stuff you talk to your boss about. The “to hell with Maddox” discussion was for frozen margaritas and a gallon of ice cream, along with cheesy music on the stereo. It wasn't tailored for my boss.
Try as I might, I couldn't think of Solomon like he was just my boss though. Sometimes, I thought he was my friend, and I should be able to talk to a friend, even a guy one. Sometimes, though, like now, I looked at him in his t-shirt, a patch of damp running in a vee down his neck, and baggy, knee-length shorts revealing muscled legs, and felt a hot flush of lust racing through me; the same heated sensation that hit me now.
If Solomon were meat, he'd be prime rib.
I shrugged the feeling away. It was just a reaction to being single and in close confines with a man whose t-shirt stuck to his actively fit body, revealing fine abs and biceps that gave way to sinewy forearms. It was just a reaction to being horny and lonely and a flash of wondering what it would be like to be with him in a way that would make me forget everything, but that very moment.
"Lexi?" He asked again, his tone was soft, his eyes observant.
"Nothing." I smiled brightly. "Want to hit the bar where all the civvies hang later? Or review the day?"
Solomon nodded. "Hold that thought while I shower and change," he said, turning toward the bathroom, peeling off his shirt as he left. I blinked hard and turned away, forcing myself to ignore the first splash of water that sounded from the bathroom. A few feet away, Solomon was naked, or close to being. God. Mental faint. I retreated to the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths.
I would hold that thought. And I would also stick my head in the refrigerator with my eyes closed while I tried to chill.
Chapter Seven
On my second day at work, I found out nothing. After yesterday's discussion with Solomon, where I kept a good three feet between us the whole time just so I didn't have the urge to lean in and smell the scent of his freshly washed body, made worse by the mouth-dropping visual of him padding out of the bathroom, clad in nothing but a white towel tucked around his waist, I was hoping to learn something new.
I told Solomon about Gretchen's reaction to my planted seed that Jillian might have been scared of someone as he grabbed jeans and a tee from his bag. He went in
to the bedroom to change, leaving the door open a fraction—I kept my hands over my eyes, I swear—so he could hear me. "They'll loosen up," he said, reappearing barefooted and fully clothed in the doorway, his scalp-short hair damp. "Keep gently pressing. Give them something to chew on. Make them think. They might not realize that they know something, but we can be sure they know something. Whoever did this, if we’re still working on the theory it wasn’t Tate, is known to these women. He or she is in and out of there regularly."
Yeah, I tried. No dice. Gretchen was quiet all morning, then disappeared for lunch and came back more cheerful. Ruth was pleased that I'd worked my way through the filing stack in between manning the reception desk for the steady stream of people who trafficked in and out the office every day. Captain McAuley didn't appear once, and Denise cried off early with a headache.
By the time five p.m. hit, my heels hurt and I wanted nothing more than to get out of there and re-examine my tactics. If something had occurred to Jillian Connor’s colleagues, they hadn’t spit it out yet. I hadn't even gotten a bead on what was missing from the office that might be heavy enough to be used as a weapon. Given that I was covering Jillian’s part-time hours, I wouldn't be back in the office until next week to take a crack at them again. Right now, it looked like I had the weekend to work on other aspects of the case. Perhaps it would help me return to the office with fresh lines for questioning. Even so, I hated to come back to the apartment empty-handed.
I switched my phone on, wincing at the flashing message icon as I moved into the kitchen. Voice mail was starting to give me heart palpitations. I took a deep breath and held the phone to my ear, heading into the kitchen barefoot to examine the contents of the refrigerator.
Maddox was my first message, his voice teetering on the edge of cool to angry. "Lexi, I don't know how many messages I've left you, but can you please call back? I tried your house phone. I even went by your apartment. By the way, Mrs. Crichton next door thinks I'm stalking you and I had to flash my badge." I sighed. Mrs. Crichton would probably think I was wanted by the police now. I gave it three days max before the rumor got to my parents and my mother started hitting the phone. "She said she's calling your mother," added Maddox like he had a direct line into my mind. "And Lily told me where to go, not so politely, and that you were out of town. Where are you? Why aren't you calling me back? Jesus. You've turned me into Bridget fucking Jones. Call me back. The job's wrapped up and you can get me any time."
I couldn't help it. I laughed, moving onto the next message. Maddox again and this time his tone was distinctly frosty.
"Jeez, Lexi. I walked into the canteen at the station to get a burger and your brothers stand up. All three of them. And stare at me. Then Garrett pops his holster like he's
about to draw. You wanna know what happens next? The whole fucking station gets up and walks out the canteen. Now, I took a shower this morning and my clothes are clean so I'm pretty freakin’ certain I don't smell. We need to talk. Call me back."
Click. Next message.
"I mean it this time. Call me back. Or I'll come find you, wherever you are."
I grimaced. I really didn't want to talk to Maddox, but that didn't mean I wanted to torture him either. We were over and the hows and whys were our business. Well, and hers. Plus, I really didn't want him pitching up on base and blowing our cover, not when we were so close to making progress. Although the idea of the whole station being pissed at him was kind of heartwarming, it was a little too high school for my taste.
I dialed Garrett.
"Are you torturing Maddox?" I asked him, straight out.
My brother was quiet for a moment, then, "I might have implied I wasn't happy with him." Behind the sound of his voice I heard someone call out, then an answering voice, and a phone ringing. My brother was clearly still at work, probably waiting for some poor Joe to drop dead so he could go investigate. That didn’t mean he had to not-so-subtly suggest whom he might like to murder.
"Garrett!"
"The douche bag cheated on you, Lexi. What do you want me to do?" he asked. In the background, the talking continued, a door slammed, and I could hear the sounds of someone passing something to Garrett, requesting his signature. The world carried on as usual at MPD.
"Leave him alone, okay? No more hazing. And no pranks either," I told him.
There was some grumbling on the other end of the phone. A few words made me cringe and would have made my Grandma O'Shaughnessy unwrap a fresh bar of soap. "Please don't tell me you pulled a prank on Maddox."
"Okay. Won't tell."
"Garrett, this is so juvenile. Stop it! I mean it. No pranks. No walking out of the canteen when he walks in! And no pretending you're going to shoot him. Tell Daniel and Jord too. I don't want to hear Maddox got fifteen parking tickets or his car towed. I don't want to hear he got glued to the toilet or that his desk chair is missing a few crucial screws. Do you hear me?" God. Now I sounded like my mother. Lily was going to be so disappointed at my lack of revenge-plotting.
"Spoilsport."
"Whatever. Just lay off, please. What happened is between him and me... oh shit!" I cringed and pulled a face. It was no longer between him and me. The whole station had to know, otherwise, why else would they walk out of the canteen en masse? As if it weren’t bad enough that I was cheated on, now the entire MPD knew too. What would they surmise? That I wasn't good enough? That I was crap in bed? That I was a nag? That I was pathetic? I would probably never get a date again. Or, even worse, I'd get offered pity dates by my brothers’ single friends. And the ones that didn’t date me would tell their wives and husbands and partners. I would always be forever known as the girl Detective Adam Maddox cheated on. "I can't believe everyone knows!" I yelled in frustration before hanging up. I turned around and leapt back, my heart pounding. I hadn't heard Solomon come in.
"Everyone knows what?" he asked.
I palm-slapped my forehead and turned away, my hands gripping the counter. I focused on the wall tiles, counting them silently in rows.
"Something to do with our case?" Solomon pressed, stepping into the small kitchen.
"No," I assured him. "It's nothing to do with our case at all." I took a deep breath before turning back to him, determined not to say anything. I intended to keep my work life and private life separate. Except the moment I opened my mouth, it all spilled out. Well, the sanitized version anyway. I didn't need to tell Solomon about the cheating or how I found out, which would only make me look all the more like a loser. "So that's it," I finished while he stood there silently. "Maddox keeps calling me, wanting to talk."
“Are you guys through?” Solomon wanted to know.
I made a noise that resembled a blocked drain.
Solomon took my phone and scrolled through the call list, taking in the dozen-plus calls over the past few days before handing it back. "Want me to get you a new phone?" he asked.
"No. He'll get the message eventually."
"Why don't you talk to him?" Solomon suggested.
Men!
"Because I love getting messages!" I stopped, my shoulders slumping. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap. I don't want to talk to him is all." Instead of looking at him, I pulled out eggs and cheese as I went about the kitchen, opening and closing doors, looking for a frying pan and oil.
"I can have him taken out if you want?" I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. For my own sanity, I decided he was.
"No, thanks. Besides, you're about number thirty-two in the line."
Solomon nodded, almost approvingly. "If you want to go home, take some time off, just say. I'm working the weekend, but you don't have to."
I hated pity. "No. I want to work. My relationship issues have nothing to do with my ability to work," I assured him, hoping my voice wasn't wobbling. "Plus, a few days away doing something else will help to put it all in perspective." I didn't know how true that was, but after a few days of missing my bed, I had come to the conclusion that staring at different walls was a good
thing. Plus, if I were in Montgomery, all I would be able to think about would be that Maddox was somewhere in town. And probably with her. No, I was just fine in Fort Charles, all by myself. Except I wasn't alone at all. At least with Solomon in the apartment, I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't debase myself like that in front of my boss, in front of a man.
"You sure?"
"Yes." I switched subjects. "I'm going to make an omelet. You want one?"
"Please." Solomon rested a hip against the counter, watching as I moved about the space. "I stopped by to get some food before heading back to the gym. I'm teaching a group tonight. A couple of guys I heard were tight with Tate will be there."
"Cool."
"Lucas will send the background checks I asked for. Read them through if you get a chance."
"No problem." I cracked the eggs into a bowl and beat them with a fork, then went in search of a grater. As I found it, Solomon took it from me and reached for the cheese block. I busied myself getting two plates and glasses, before fiddling with the coffee pot while the pan heated.
He told me about the gym while I assembled the omelets. "Tate doesn't have a reputation for violence. I've been asking, playing the curious card. He's got the strength, all right. Used to be a boxer along with the martial arts. Probably knows the right moves to lay a man down with one strike."
"They say anything about Jillian?" I asked, as I slid the second omelet onto a plate and turned off the power.
"A couple guys know her by sight. They said she and he were friendly." Solomon picked up the plates, carrying them to the table. I followed with the knives and forks, sitting opposite him. "There are a few women who come to the gym. You might want to come and work out with them. See if they have a different opinion on Tate."
"You’re not working the charm with them?"
"Doesn't work on everyone."
I laughed. "Yeah, right."
Solomon shrugged, chewing. He pointed at the omelet with his fork. "This is good. Anyway, I haven't tried; haven’t had the right opportunity yet. Plus, I don't want to look like I'm hitting on them."
Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) Page 8
