Haven is special, an inner voice whispered.
Yes, there was something special about her. She was kind and thoughtful, a gentle soul who deserved someone who could offer her a lot more than a lot of lonely nights worrying about his sorry ass.
Being a cop had its risks. That was just part of the job. I couldn’t imagine being anything else, though. I’d never wanted to be anything else. After God and family, it was the most important thing in my life, and sometimes, a little sacrifice was necessary.
La mia famiglia, my matchmaking grandfather and mother especially, didn’t believe my career choice precluded me from having a wife and kids of my own, but I wasn’t convinced. I had seen plenty of evidence that suggested otherwise. The risk, the focus, the long hours, the uncertainty—those things put a lot of stress on a relationship. I hadn’t found a woman yet who understood that, nor willing to step back and occasionally take second place to my job.
I turned over and punched my pillow when another image of Haven crossed my mind, one of her smiling shyly as I teased her about something or other. She knew what I was, what I did. Maybe, I thought as I felt sleep start to overwhelm me, she would understand ...
Chapter Three: Haven
Balancing four specials, I glanced up at the clock, annoyed. Deanna, my replacement, was late again. I barely had enough time to go home, shower, change, and get to the other side of town as it was. Every minute I was delayed threatened to make me late. Cal was really cool about that sort of thing, but the guy who ran the café downtown wasn’t.
“Go on. I’ve got it covered.” Wanda appeared behind me with a pot of coffee and the extra sides I hadn’t been able to carry.
“You’ve already covered for me twice this week.”
“I’m not covering for you. Your shift ended fifteen minutes ago, and Annabeth is here. Go!”
I felt bad for leaving Wanda and Annabeth to handle the morning breakfast rush. During the lulls, it wasn’t bad, but at peak times, it took three of us to get everyone seated and served so they could get to their jobs.
I really did have to go, though. I needed my second job. One paycheck might have been enough to cover my daily living expenses, but not that of a still-growing, always-hungry teenage boy, too. I didn’t mind. Providing a safe place for my brother until he could graduate high school and stand on his own two feet was worth it.
The moment I was outside, I speed-walked back to my place.
I scowled at the dirty breakfast bowl and open cereal box that had been left on the table, but I didn’t have time to do anything about it. I would definitely be having another talk with Joel later.
Teenage boys weren’t known for being neat or clean, I got that. However, if he was going to live with me, there had to be some ground rules.
I took the quickest shower on record—three minutes!—then changed into my other uniform, grabbed a protein bar, and was out the door again in another five. I made it to the café with a minute to spare.
My boss, Francis Franklin, was waiting for me, scowling when I punched in on time. He seemed disappointed. He made no secret of the fact that he didn’t like me and was looking for a reason to fire me. The place had a three-strike rule, and the two times I’d had to leave early because of Joel put me right on the edge. One more infraction and my boss would be shoving me out the door.
“Hey, Haven.” One of my regulars greeted me with a smile. I didn’t know his name, but I did know he worked in one of the offices on the upper floors. He was a nice guy, always impeccably dressed, and a great tipper.
“The usual?”
“Please.” I saw him cast a glance toward my boss, who was watching me like a hawk. “No one makes coffee like you,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “Best in town.”
My boss sniffed and walked away.
“Thanks for that,” I said quietly.
“Anytime.” He grinned. “I wasn’t kidding. And don’t worry about Francis. Half the building will boycott this place if he gets rid of you.”
Warmth spread through me at his kind words. I hadn’t realized my boss’s animosity was obvious to anyone but me. My gallant regular customer had just gotten himself upgraded to the next size and an extra shot of vanilla, on the house.
I was about halfway through my shift, wiping down the bistro-style tables during a lull, when my cell phone vibrated, signaling an incoming call. I knew it couldn’t be good. I only gave out the number for emergencies.
A glance at the screen confirmed my fears. The caller identified as the high school.
Francis wasn’t lurking anywhere nearby, so I went toward the back and answered. I almost wished I hadn’t.
“Ms. McAlister?”
“Yes.”
“This is Constance Carter, principal of Cecilton Senior High School. I’m afraid there has been a serious incident involving Joel.”
My heart dropped. “What kind of incident?”
“I’d rather not go into specifics over the phone.”
Perhaps she didn’t want to go into specifics, but I needed details. She couldn’t just call, use words like serious incident, and not provide more information than that. All sorts of horrible, worst-case scenarios were assaulting my mind.
“Is he okay?”
“Physically, yes.”
Relief washed over me. I worried about Joel. Going into senior year at a new school, there were bound to be challenges. He was a good kid, but he had a chip on his shoulder that got him in trouble sometimes.
I was about to ask Principal Carter if it could wait until after my shift, but her next words made that unnecessary.
“Joel has been taken into custody.”
That sense of relief vanished instantly, replaced by dread.
“Custody? Where? What happened?”
“He’s at the twenty-third precinct. I’m on my way. I suggest you meet me there.”
Inside, I was panicking, my earlier relief bounding back into the dread zone. Clearly, this was about more than skipping class or pulling some prank. What had Joel gotten himself into now?
“Personal phone calls are prohibited while on the clock, Ms. McAlister.”
Startled, I looked up, right into my boss’s face. His expression was one of mock disappointment, but his eyes belied him. They flashed with barely disguised glee.
“I’m aware of that, Mr. Franklin. This is an emergency. In fact, I’m going to have to leave early.”
“Unacceptable.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me. It’s a family emergency,” I said, controlling my temper and trying to stem the panic rising from imagining the kinds of “serious incidents” that would put Joel in police custody.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,” Franklin said, cutting me off. “I thought I made it clear that any more unscheduled time off would not be tolerated.”
“But my brother—”
“I’m running a cafe, Ms. McAlister, not a daycare. Walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.”
Joel might get on my nerves sometimes, but if it came down to a choice between my job and my brother, there was no question which I would choose.
I untied my apron, folded it, and left it on the counter. “The Help Wanted sign is in the bottom left cupboard.”
I held my head high as I walked out, but inside, I was a mess. Direct confrontations did that to me, so I tried to avoid them whenever possible.
Once again, I found myself power walking through town. All kinds of scenarios popped into my mind along the way, ranging from something relatively minor and stupid, like getting caught smoking behind the school, to something awful, like losing his temper and getting into a fight or worse. Since the principal hadn’t given me any kind of hint, I had no idea what I was going to find when I got to the police station.
I made the four-block trip in record time, arriving only slightly out of breath. I had never been in a police station before, but it was nothing like the dark, depressing ones typically shown on television. The twenty-third preci
nct was bright and well-lit with a clean, professional look and feel.
The officer at the front desk took my information, and I was soon escorted to one of the conference rooms beyond the public lobby. Principal Carter, Joel, and two men I assumed were policemen were already there.
Joel dropped his head the moment I stepped in, which did absolutely nothing to make me feel better about what I was about to hear.
Brief introductions were made, and I was told to take a seat. For the next thirty minutes, I listened to the detectives and the principal speak. Joel said nothing.
“Let me see if I understand this,” I said, trying to compress half an hour’s worth of information into something that made sense to me. “You’re saying Joel’s a fence?”
“We found stolen merchandise in his locker and a wad of cash, Ms. McAlister.”
“I told you,” Joel finally piped in, “none of that was mine. Somebody set me up.”
“Who?” asked the older of the two detectives. “And why?”
Joel sat back in his chair, looked at the wall, and shrugged. “Don’t know.” He would have been far more convincing without the arrogance. I had no doubt my brother did know, but whether he was covering his own backside or someone else’s remained to be seen. That was something he and I would be discussing in great detail later.
“Joel has been suspended until further notice,” Principal Carter said, “pending the outcome of the investigation.”
Suspended. The word echoed in my head. More hours my brother would be left alone, unsupervised. At least when he was at school, he had some structure. Somewhere to be and a whole staff keeping him on track. In the evenings, between my first and third shift jobs, I made sure he ate something relatively healthy and hit the books while I grabbed a couple hours of shuteye. Then again, it seemed like my days would be free, too, for the immediate future, at least until I found another job.
“What about his schoolwork? His exams?”
“Joel will be allowed to keep up with his classwork through our online system. He may use the school-issued laptop to receive and submit assignments and to take his exams during the course of the investigation.”
“And how long will that take?”
“That depends on how willing Joel is to cooperate.”
He rolled his eyes. “I told you, I don’t know anything.”
I let out a controlled breath. “All right. What happens now?”
“We are remanding him into your custody.”
“Does that mean we can go?”
The other detective, the one who had yet to say a word, continued to stare at me. It was unnerving.
His partner spoke once again. “Yes, but you are expected to remain in the area.”
I nodded. Where would we go?
“You can wait here while we complete the paperwork.”
I nodded again.
The detectives and the principal filed out, leaving my brother and I alone in the small room. Having watched as many cop shows as I had, I knew the room was most likely equipped with security cameras and two-way glass.
“We are going to talk about this when we get home,” I said quietly. I had heard one side of the story. Now I wanted to hear Joel’s. The real story. But not here, where anything he said could and would be used against him in a court of law.
Hours later, or what seemed like hours later, I was finally given a bunch of papers to sign and we were told we could leave. Some take-out and a whole lot of talking was on the agenda until I had to be back at Lindelman’s for the graveyard shift.
“Haven?”
The deep, familiar voice was both welcomed and not. Welcomed, because just hearing it made me feel better. Not, because he was the fuzz and my brother had just been collared. I couldn’t be rude, though.
“Hey, Vinnie.”
“Everything okay?” His eyes flicked from me to my brother.
Despite the fact that we had different mothers, Joel and I shared similar features. We would probably look more alike as time went on, but the ten years separating us in age was pretty apparent. He was a baby-faced seventeen-year-old, and worry lines made me look older than my twenty-seven years.
“It will be.”
Maybe if I said it often enough, I might start to believe it. The power of positive thinking and all that.
Before he could ask any more questions, I looped my arm through Joel’s and summoned a smile. “Let’s be careful out there.” I couldn’t help it. When I got nervous, I started parroting catchphrases from police dramas.
Officer Vinnie smiled, no doubt recognizing the reference. His smile, like his voice, did wonderful things for my anxiety, but we couldn’t dawdle.
“Who was that?” Joel scowled, looking over his shoulder as we left the station.
“Nobody you need to worry about. Now come on. We’re picking up a pizza, and then you are going to tell me what the hell is going on.”
Chapter Four: Vinnie
For a moment, my spirits had lifted at seeing Haven, my first thought that she had come to see me. Then the rational part of my brain had kicked in and realized that wasn’t likely. We were friendly acquaintances, nothing more. While it made perfect sense for me to stop in to her place of employment, the same couldn’t be said for her coming to mine.
Besides, I reminded myself, I didn’t do relationships.
Her presence at the precinct did raise a valid question, though. Most people didn’t drop in for anything good.
Immediately, my secret joy at seeing her unexpectedly had changed to concern.
A quick glance to her side had provided a strong clue. The scowling teen towered over her and looked vaguely familiar. Their features were similar enough that I immediately pegged them as family.
Her usual friendly smile had been absent, as was the sparkle in her eye as she had shuffled the kid out the door. Only afterward did I realize where I’d seen him before. He had been one of the kids hanging out behind the convenience store with Slash and his gang.
My jaw tightened. If that kid was involved with Slash, he was trouble ... or he was in trouble. And if that kid was related to Haven, he was bringing that trouble right to her doorstep. That was not something I was comfortable with.
I didn’t have all the facts, though, so before I started jumping to conclusions, I asked a few questions. That led me to Hannibal and Lecter, the detectives who had been speaking with them.
The detectives’ names weren’t really Hannibal and Lecter, of course, but that was what we called them around the station. Hannibal was actually Chase Fumanti, a natural charmer who drew suspicious persons of interest into his confidence. Terrence Kowalski, a.k.a. Lecter, was his karmic opposite, a guy whose approach was totally non-verbal. Lecter’s intensive glare was enough to make suspects piss their pants and spill their guts. The odd combo was highly effective. Those brought in for questioning by them usually responded to one or the other. They were also looking into the rash of local snatch-and-grabs, which didn’t make me feel any better about the kid being here.
“Who was that kid?” I asked.
“Joel McAlister,” said Hannibal, his brow furrowing. “Senior at Cecilton High. Had a dozen stolen iPads in his locker, along with a stash of expensive vape pens and a wad of cash. The serial numbers match some of the items reported stolen from the electronics store down on Fifth Street.”
That didn’t bode well, but I had just seen the kid walking out, so they weren’t pressing charges. Yet.
“You let him walk?”
“Kid says he was set up.” Hannibal smirked, letting me know he didn’t believe that any more than I did. “The kid’s involved, no doubt, but he’s not the ringleader.”
Lecter grunted at this, an expression of agreement.
“We let him walk, maybe he’ll save us some time and lead us to who is.”
I understood their reasoning, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. The thought of Haven being caught up in something like this made my chest tight.
For a brief moment, I considered not saying anything until I found out more about Haven’s situation. Beyond the conversations we shared a couple times a week at the diner, I had no connection with her. It wasn’t personal, though it sure as hell felt like it.
I had to remind myself that solving this case would benefit everyone, Haven included.
“He was hanging around Slash and his miscreants last night behind Manetti’s,” I volunteered.
Hannibal nodded as if that wasn’t a big reveal. “Not surprising. Slash targets kids like him.”
I stiffened. “What do you mean, kids like him?”
“Lost boys. Those on the fringes, without good parental role models. The ones looking to feel like they belong to something.”
“No parents in the picture?”
“Father’s MIA, and the mother’s a piece of work. According to the school, the sister petitioned for and obtained legal guardianship about six months ago.”
Which explained why Haven had been the one to come for her brother.
I must have scowled or given some other tell, because Hannibal narrowed his eyes and demonstrated what made him such a good detective. “You know the sister?”
“She’s a waitress at Lindelman’s. Works the night shift.”
“Hmmm,” he hummed, zeroing in on what I’d just inadvertently revealed. “So, the kid’s unsupervised from eleven to seven?”
Well, hell.
***
Later that night, I sat in my car, watching Haven’s apartment building. It hadn’t taken much to convince Hannibal and Lecter to let me do some off-duty surveillance before they filed an official request. None of us liked the extra paperwork that sort of thing entailed.
Haven’s neighborhood was part of my usual beat, and I wasn’t in any particular hurry to go back to my empty place. Besides, I liked Haven. Even if I hadn’t acted on my desire to ask her out, I valued her friendship. If there was some way to help her out within the law, I would.
I’d parked across the street and about halfway down the block. I was there in time to see Haven step out the front of the building and start walking toward Lindelman’s.
Just For Him (The Cerasino Family, #2) Page 2
