by Amy Johnson
“So,” she said, “I’ll see you Monday.”
“Right. Be ready about eight o’clock. We’ll scout out Chase, then later that night we’ll go after Bronco Billy.”
“Who?” she asked and he said, “Travis. The rodeo strip tease guy.”
“Oh.” She wanted to invite him in but couldn’t come up with a good reason. She sat staring at her house. Her empty, dark house. Her lonely house.
“So, I guess I’ll go on in then,” she managed, trying to work up the nerve to tell him she was afraid of the boogie man.
“Have a good night,” he said, and he leaned across to open her door from the inside. His hand brushed against her breast and she felt that hot skin all the way through her tee shirt.
“So,” she said, trying to dilute the silence until she could figure out something else to say. She settled for, “It was fun.”
“Sure was,” he said and Megan thought, Oh hell I’m just going to have to come right out with it and ask him to walk me in. If he’d been a damn gentleman to begin with he would have thought of it first. She stared at her house and made no attempt to move.
She was driving Jack crazy. All day he’d done his best to lead with his head and keep his distance. It was hard as hell especially given the fact that she was wearing those snug jeans, that tight red tank top, and that ridiculous red ball cap. Top that off with a couple black eyes and she was irresistible. She looked like a blonde raccoon in a Santa Suit and he wanted to tell her he’d been a naughty boy all year so she could spank him.
He’d caught her staring at him several times and when he’d look her way she’d advert her eyes and her cheeks would flush with color. Her mother was right! She had it for him. Problem was she just didn’t know it. Yet. Now watching her sit there with that weary look on her face he saw her take a large sigh, her chest rising and falling with the breath and he found himself staring at her neck, admiring the curve and angles. He wanted to plant tender kisses there and move up to her mouth and take it and…No, that was no good. He knew from experience that one kiss wouldn’t be enough and he’d just be torturing himself when she sent him home or started talking about that damn list again.
That list. What the hell had she been thinking when she came up with that brilliant plan.
Come on Jack take the hint. “Well, I’m beat. I guess I’ll…”
“Megan,” he said and she thought Thank God. “Unless you’re going home with me, you need to get out of my truck,” he said, because he was thinking with his head but his heart was saying walk her in and comfort her, and his hormones were saying take her now in the truck.
She was scowling at him. Asshole! Couldn’t he figure out that she was scared to enter her big empty house alone? Maybe she could call Mickey and ask him to stay over, he had no life. He’d be happy to do it. But first she had to go into that empty house.
“OK Jack, see ya.” She pushed the door open and took her time getting out of the truck. She shut the door and he waved and she stood there staring at her house. This was ridiculous, she told herself. This was a good neighborhood. She’d lived here ten years and she’d never been scared before. But before she had Ted to protect her. And before Ted was her father. Oh, the hell with it. She’d been praying for a disaster for days and nothing had happened. Probably nothing would. Plus, if anything did the old hag next door would be all over it. She didn’t miss much. She started up the sidewalk, leaves crunching underneath her when she felt something touch her arm and she screamed at the top of her lungs and swung her elbow around catching Jack square in the ribs.
“Ouch,” he growled.
“Sorry, I thought you were the boogie man,” she said, not sorry because he should have walked her in anyway. “What are you doing out of your truck?”
“Making sure you get inside in one piece. Making sure you don’t knock yourself out.” He smiled then and she elbowed him in the ribs again.
“You can go now,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” She didn’t look fine in the truck staring at that house. She’d looked scared, of what he didn’t know.
“I better be getting hazard pay if you keep hitting me like that,” he said, rubbing the spot she just hit. Megan ignored him, furious with men in general.
“Keep it up and you’ll need Workers Comp,” she snapped, not sure why she was so angry with him. He hadn’t really done anything. Maybe that was the problem.
She was fumbling with her keys in the dark when he said, “Give them to me,” and she kept fumbling trying to guide the key in the hole by feel when he took them out of her hand. “I work well in the dark,” he said, and Megan decided not to think about just how well. He opened the door and stepped aside for her to go in first. She flipped on the light and he followed her in, shutting the door behind him.
Megan immediately went to let the pups in to feed them and out of habit she hit the play message on the answering machine on her way to the backdoor.
She had seven messages: Two from her mother—probably calling to confirm Jack’s size, a dinner invitation from Tom- which made Jack scowl at the machine, one from Josie saying she was spending the night with Jon—call if she needed her, one from Ted— call me Meg, (fat chance she said to herself), and the last two were from unknown callers— Malone we want our money and we’re getting impatient, and the second was the same person— “You have a pretty little wife, we’d hate to have to hurt her.”
What? What money? Pretty little wife? Hurt her?
Megan replayed the messages as Jack loomed over her in the kitchen.
Danger? Jack had told her that day he’d come by and ended up punching Tom, that she might be in danger. And now she was here alone. She swallowed, wide eyed and scared, and Jack felt like hell. He should have told her. He should have come clean about the trouble Ted had gotten into.
She played the messages again, her blood running cold.
“You know anything about that?” Jack asked her and she shook her head nervously.
“What did you mean when you said before that I might be in danger? What’s going on?” She was staring at the machine as if it were ticking time bomb.
“Megan, Ted has done some shady dealings with some very bad people. From what I’ve been able to tell, he owes quite a bit of money to these guys and he wasn’t planning on paying.”
“What kind of people?” she asked, recalling the expensive new watch Ted had come home with and the restoration of the Jaguar in the garage. “The studio is booming,” he told her when she asked how they could afford those things. “Business is great.” She felt like an idiot now for believing him.
Jack crossed the short distance separating them and although the hunger to touch her was overwhelming he crossed his arms over his chest to keep from it. “Do you know the name Madrino?” She nodded. She knew of them. They were a couple years ahead of her in high school but everybody knew them. They used to wear these cheap knock offs of brand name Italian suits, pinky rings, and slicked back hair dos. They told everyone that they were related to these big mob guys in New York but everyone knew it was a crock. They were a bunch of loser wanna-be's with big talk and nothing to back it up. They claimed to be in this gang called the ‘The Junior Mafia’ but they looked more like The Mario Brothers. Everyone would laugh at them and they’d threaten to call their infamous Uncle Vito. They got picked on more than the nerds and geeks. Megan laughed remembering the Madrino brothers and Jack frowned.
“I know the name,” she said. “We used to laugh at them all the time.”
“Well, people don’t laugh at them anymore. They’re dangerous. And stupid,” Jack said and Megan’s laugh faded.
“So what does that have to do with Ted?”
“The Madrino's run a lot of drugs. Pot and Ecstasy mainly, although they’ve been known to dabble with cocaine on occasion.” Jack’s eyes were intense and serious but Megan still found the whole thing ridiculous. These guys were losers. They probably couldn’t deal a deck of cards, much less drugs.
“
So Ted bought drugs from them? That could be. I found a bag of pot in his darkroom. How much money could he owe them? Isn’t pot pretty cheap?” So Ted owed the chumps for a bag of dope. Big whoop. Let them sic Uncle Vito on him for a dime bag. She laughed again as she imagined some fictitious mob guy dressed to the nines with an assault rifle and a couple of muscle guys showing up at her door step looking for Ted and the twenty bucks he owed them for a bag of dope. It sounded like a corny movie, comical and outrageous.
“From what I can tell, he owes them close to a hundred,” Jack said, his expression still grim and serious. Megan laughed and pulled her checkbook from her purse.
“A hundred bucks?” They’d threatened to hurt her over a hundred bucks. Sounds like the Madrino boys hadn’t changed. Idle, outrageous threats over basically nothing. She wrote the dollar amount on the check. She’d pay them just so they’d quit calling. She signed her name to the check laughing as Jack stared at her with disbelief.
“A hundred bucks,” she said again, sighing at the absurdity.
“Grand,” Jack said. “He owes about a hundred grand.” Megan’s pen stopped still poised and she met Jack’s eyes, her expression a mix of confusion and shock.
“A hundred grand?” she shouted. “Like, as in five zeros?”
“Yep,” Jack said, relieved she was finally getting it. “And that’s not the worst part,” he said and Megan closed her checkbook and stepped away from the counter. Uncle Vito suddenly seemed more of a real threat, maybe even with a real Italian suit and real guns.
“So?” she said, her voice coming out more cheerful than she expected. “What’s the worst part? Uncle Vito gonna come knee cap Ted?” Serves the bastard right she thought. Hell this might not be so bad. They could kick Ted’s ass and maybe she could watch. Maybe they could kick the marbles out of him.
“Tiffany,” Jack said, and Megan snapped her head up to meet his gaze suddenly interested. “See, Tiffany is Sal Madrino’s girl. He hired me to keep tabs on her. I didn’t know anything about the drugs at the time.” Megan suddenly felt the need to sit down and she gripped the counter for leverage. Jack took her hand and guided her to a chair then took another chair and sat it directly in front of her, so close that their knees were touching.
OK, Ted was in trouble. What did that have to do with her? People don’t laugh at them anymore. They’re dangerous. And stupid. Shit.
“Go on,” she told Jack.
“Apparently Ted was looking for a way to make some quick cash so he approached the Madrino brothers about doing some business. I’m pretty sure it was Tiffany’s idea or she at least introduced them. Anyhow, they did a few small deals that Ted made good on so when he wanted to up the ante they were happy to oblige.” Jack was sitting so close to her that he could smell her subtle perfume and he yearned to reach out and stroke her hand, but he didn’t dare. If he let his heart get involved this time he’d probably end up back in the bottle. Or if she let him touch her and taste her and…he’d always wonder if it was because she was scared and vulnerable. He wanted her to want him. Bad.
“So, what happened then? And what does all of this have to do with me?” Megan asked in a detached tone. So Ted was a drug dealer. It didn’t surprise her, although a week ago it would have. She never would have thought he was a cheater either. Hell, if Jack told her Ted had been the mystery shooter on the grassy knoll, she’d probably believe that too.
“So they made a larger deal and Ted moved the stuff. I think he stashed the money in his office, although I’m not sure, and then it vanished. When the Madrino brothers came asking for their money Ted gave them excuse after excuse. Guess they’re tired of excuses.” Jack noticed the change of color in her face but couldn’t decipher her expression. To his surprise she cracked up with laughter. He frowned.
“What?” he asked and she struggled to speak between laughs.
“Nothing. It’s just that you look so serious and these guys…well they’re a joke. You should have seen them when they were kids,” she said and he thought I did, I grew up about four blocks from them. “I mean, they were losers with a capital L. Always talking about their mob connections and crazy uncles. It was all such B.S. Hell, they graduated way before me and we were still laughing at them after they were gone. These guys are harmless. All talk.”
Had she never read a newspaper? “Megan, Sal served six years for rape and he was guilty of a lot more.” Her smile disappeared. “And Angelo has been in out of jail for everything from possession to attempted murder, not to mention his acquittal on a murder charge.” Her body stiffened and he saw the color of her eyes change from a clear, playful blue to dark, blue fear. He put his hands on her knees as a steadying comfort.
“But this has nothing to do with me. Why would they hurt me?” she cried, her voice small, her mind still trying to grip the reality.
“To get to Ted. To get their money back,” Jack said, wanting to take her in his arms.
“So we call the cops,” she said, “and then I’m going to see Ted. And he better be glad he’s in the damn hospital because when I get through with him he’s going to have a lot more than a marble up his butt. I’m gonna kill him. Save the Madrino brothers the trouble.”
“Megan,” Jack began but stopped when a car pulled into to the driveway, the lights casting a glow on the kitchen wall. Jack moved to the window and saw a Taxi sitting in the drive with an elderly woman getting out of the back passenger side door. Megan, standing behind Jack, peered out and went to the back door.
“That’s my granny. What on earth is she doing here?” Megan said noticing the small suitcase the petite woman was carrying. “Granny?” She called out, holding the door open as the little old lady climbed the two steps and walked in.
“Where’s the can? It’s been a long ride. I gotta pee worse than a dog in heat gotta sniff butts.” Megan pointed her to the downstairs bathroom even though the plumbing often got clogged, doubting her grandmother could make it up the stairs to the other bathroom. “You know when you get old, nothing works right. My bladder’s shrunk to about the size of a jelly bean. I’m thinking bout getting me some of those Depends diapers. I got a cute little meals on wheels boy who I wouldn’t mind changing my diaper.” Megan blushed bright red and Jack bit back a laugh. “I’m always telling him older women make better lovers. Why, just the other day I was telling him about how me and your grandfather used to…” Her voice trailed off as she shut the door to the bathroom and Megan covered her forehead with her hand and picked up the phone to call her mother and when no one answered she cradled the phone and sat down. Grandma Lou came out of the bathroom and undressed Jack with her eyes.
“Why, aren’t you a cutie patootie,” she said as flirtatiously as a seventy five year old woman dressed in polyester and smelling like moth balls could. She pinched his cheek and smiled. “Much handsomer than that stick in the mud Ted. Now move your cute little tush and get my bags from the cab.” Jack looked at Megan and caught the dreadful expression on her face.
“Yes ma’am,” he said and opened the door when Megan’s hand caught his arm and stopped him.
“What bags Granny?”
“Oh, forgot to tell you. I’m moving in.” Then to Jack, “Hurry up, sweet thang, the meters running.” Megan felt like throwing up. Grandma Lou was a handful and Megan was already up to her ears in shit. She didn’t need this. Jack opened the door wider and Megan’s grasp on his arm tightened.
“What do you mean you’re moving in? What happened this time?” Megan inquired dreading the answer. Granny was hell on wheels and apparently another nursing home had kicked her out.
“I got kicked out of Peaceful Meadows. Never liked the damn place anyway. Bunch of prudes. I keep telling them blondes have more fun but they’re just a bunch of party poopers.”
“Granny, you’re not blonde.” Her grandmother removed her scarf from her head and Megan took a step back. Not only was her grandmother a platinum blonde, but her hair was cut in a punk rocker spike with streaks of ho
t pink glittering brightly.
“Granny!” Megan said, but her grandmother was busy flirting with Jack who was complimenting her on her hair.
“Why thank you, hot stuff,” Granny said. “Now get my bags and pay the cabbie, will you?” Megan released Jack’s hand and he went out the door. “And be careful with that little bag. It has my crystal ball and medicine in it.” She winked at Megan and Megan forced a small smile. Jack returned carrying three bags a huge grin on his face. Megan wanted to slap him. Or jump him. Either would be satisfying about now.
“OK, Granny, why did you get kicked out this time?” Granny ignored Megan and sat at the table, ordering Jack to do the same.
He sat down and she grabbed his hand turning it palm up. “OK, young man, let’s see what you’ve got.” Jack was patient, giving that dangerous grin while Megan explained to Jack that her grandmother thought she was a palm reader. Granny narrowed her stern eyes at Megan and pursed her lips.
“I am a palm reader. Been doing it sixty years. Never been wrong either.” She went back to Jack’s calloused palm, leaving Megan pacing the floor.
“Granny, why did you get kicked out?” Megan said and her grandmother raised a hand with neon green fingernails to quiet her. Megan gave up for the moment and fed the dogs. When there was a fine male specimen in the room or a palm to be read Granny had a one track mind.
“I see darkness here,” Granny indicated running a long finger across Jack’s hand. “Lot’s of secrets and pain.” She looked at Jack and he nodded still smiling that devilish grin.
“Granny,” Megan said and her grandmother once again raised her hand and ignored her. “But here, oh my son, I see love.” Jack glanced at Megan with a heat in his eyes that made Megan’s stomach flip. She involuntarily held his gaze, feeling the electricity from it penetrate her. “And babies, lots of brown eyed babies.” Megan turned from Jack’s intoxicating gaze and went to feed Spot.
When she returned to the kitchen her grandmother was setting up her crystal ball as Jack sat watching the old woman with a humorous expression.
