All a Man Is

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Inwardly, he sighed. His body had conceded defeat. His tension hadn’t subsided, though; he was too worried about what expression he’d see on Julia’s face when she had to look at him after emerging from hiding.

  He shook his head at her daughter. “You know he just likes to give you a bad time. Matt’s probably worried because he doesn’t look his age, and that’s a bigger deal for a boy in eighth grade.”

  “Yes, it is.” Julia’s warm, reassuring voice came from behind him.

  Bracing himself, he turned slowly. Her color was still high but she’d combed her hair so that it was smooth and glossy, tucked behind her ears. A memory of his teeth closing on one of those earlobes flickered. Damn it. Her eyes slid from meeting his, but he thought she looked shy, not appalled.

  “Sophie’s lucky!” Liana declared mulishly. “I wish I didn’t have a brother.”

  “Seems to me you’ve had good times together,” Alec remarked, going for mild. He wasn’t about to categorically dismiss her feelings the way adults had a habit of doing. Matt had given her plenty of reason to wish she was an only kid. And, as big a shit as Matt was being these days, no one in his family was feeling real fond of him at the moment.

  “And someday you’ll be glad you have him, even if it isn’t until you’re both adults.” Julia hugged and kissed her. “I promise.”

  Liana’s disbelieving snort amused Alec, an emotion he was careful to hide.

  “If you’re so glad you have a brother,” she challenged her mother, “how come we never see Uncle Ray?”

  Julia’s eyes finally met the laughter in Alec’s. Her scowl was quelling. “Because he’s ten years older than me. We never did play together. By the time I was a teenager, he was long married and away from home. I suspect, when the time comes that your grandparents are old enough that Ray and I have to be making decisions about things like nursing homes, I’ll be really glad I don’t have to do it all alone.”

  “Oh.” Liana’s shoulders slumped.

  “Next time Matt says things like that,” Julia suggested, “tell him you don’t care what he thinks. And that it doesn’t matter anyway, because you’re only ten years old, not thirteen.”

  Alec tweaked her ponytail, darker than her mom’s hair. “Or you could get nasty and suggest he worry about what the other kids are going to think about him. You could say maybe in L.A. some of the kids thought those baggy pants were cool, but here they look silly.”

  “Yeah!” she declared.

  Julia appeared undecided about whether going on the attack was a good idea. Alec had a feeling that Matt might pay more attention to his sister’s opinion of his wardrobe than he would his mother’s or uncle’s. Especially if she claimed to have overheard some older girls saying...

  “Can I stay here?” Liana asked. “Until you go back, Mom?”

  Now Julia’s eyes did meet Alec’s. For a moment she let him see frustration to match his. He felt a jolt of renewed lust that had him gritting his teeth.

  “You need me?” he asked, then had to clear his throat.

  “Yes,” she said as huskily. Their eyes held one conversation while Liana heard another. Then she smiled at her daughter while saying to Alec, “But not right now. Enjoy your peace.”

  He nodded. She wasn’t ready yet to know that life on his side of the duplex was lonely, not peaceful. That, chaos, interruptions, sexual frustration and all, he wanted his home to be with her.

  “Kitchen’s looking good,” he added, both for Liana’s sake and because he thought Julia needed to hear it. What was more, it was true. He liked the cabinets, which had already been installed. Apparently, tearing out the old cabinets had revealed no rot, wet or dry. Even so, according to Julia the speed it had happened was akin to an emu leaping into the sky and flying.

  After she and Liana left, Alec wandered back into the kitchen. A sample of what would be the countertop lay across an open drawer. It was a relatively inexpensive Formica, but he thought it was going to look good. The gray-blue was flecked with cream and navy and tan and rust, colors he vaguely recalled Julia saying she intended to “pick up” from the vinyl flooring he’d chosen. Boxes of four-inch ceramic tiles sat on the plywood floor, waiting to be installed on the wall behind the counter. Most of the ones he could see were a coordinating gray-blue, but he’d noticed one box that held navy blue ones instead. He couldn’t imagine what the result would be, but had confidence in Julia’s taste.

  The plumbing seemed to already be in place, too, encouraging him to hope he wouldn’t have to live with the disorder for long. Not that he wanted to cook, but he was looking forward to seeing Julia putting dinner together in his kitchen instead of hers.

  He was pleased with the cool, neutral colors in here, which she had approved because they could be warmed—her word—with a splash of rust. Splash was her word, too. Alec was willing to bet, though, that Julia would use more vibrant colors in her kitchen and that he might be envious in the end.

  If they got married, they could buy a house and start all over. He had a feeling she wouldn’t mind. He’d live happily with red and fiery yellow and, hell, pink if she wanted.

  His smile died as he returned to the living room, flipped through a TV schedule and glanced without interest at the book he was currently reading.

  Another evening alone to fill.

  * * *

  AS SHE WENT out one front door and in the other, Julia was buzzing, aroused, jittery and horrified at how close she and Alec had come to getting caught. Acting normal was a struggle. Thank goodness Matt had already shut himself in his bedroom. On the plus side, the kitchen was more or less clean. She rapped on his door to be sure he really was there and was answered with a surly “What do you want?”

  “Letting you know I’m home,” she said and went away.

  Liana wanted to watch TV, a rerun of a silly family comedy. The laugh track alone sounded like fingernails on a blackboard to Julia. To escape, she had only a few choices—her bedroom, the kitchen or outside. Night was falling. What was she going to do outside? Sit on the too-small concrete patio in back and wait for bats to dart past? Since Matt and Alec had been shot at, she felt exposed every time she was outdoors. No, even if she left the light off, sitting outside wouldn’t be soothing.

  She wanted quite desperately to return next door, to Alec. Instead, Julia had to settle for her kitchen, where she took out the counter, tile and flooring samples she had checked out of home-improvement stores. She’d mostly made up her mind, but if either of the kids checked on her, she’d look occupied.

  Finally alone, she thought, Oh, my God. She and Alec had come so close. One minute she’d been mad to the point of feeling steam coming out of her ears, the next she had wanted him as she’d never wanted anything or anyone in her life.

  Naturally, that made her feel guilty. She’d be happier to believe she had truly loved Josh at the beginning.

  The trouble was, she’d been so young. Too young. The only sexual comparisons she’d had were a few fumbling experiences in college. Her physical response to Josh had seemed marvelous to her at the time. It was possible he’d just had a better idea what he was doing than the boys who’d given her her limited experience. Now—well, now it was hard even to remember what she’d felt at the beginning.

  Guilt came in infinite shades, she’d discovered. What was it Alec had said? That Matt had packed all his emotions and brought them along? Well, she had, too. Only...hers seemed to be stretching and growing, leaving less and less room for her heart and lungs to do their thing.

  Because of how I feel about Alec.

  Yes, but not entirely, she decided, frowning at an orange tile that was definitely on the discard pile. She was a mother; mothers felt responsible when anything at all went wrong for their kids. I wasn’t paying enough attention. I didn’t say the right thing. If only I’d... It has to be my fault. T
he loop played through her head every night.

  It was the Josh part she struggled with now. What if that last fight had left him too distracted to do his job safely? She’d give anything if there was some way to know.

  Or...what if, in a way, he’d committed suicide because she’d told him he wasn’t welcome at home?

  No, she knew better than that. Josh had loved his kids, sure, but he had seen them only in spurts anyway. He was already the next best thing to a weekend father. Increasingly, Julia knew he hadn’t loved her very deeply at all. What remained of their marriage had been...habit, on both their parts.

  And really, he wasn’t the kind of man who would ever have self-destructive inclinations. She couldn’t imagine it.

  Distraction, though, that might be possible.

  But Alec was right that she couldn’t have stayed married forever just so she didn’t upset Josh on the chance he might be sent immediately out on a mission. She’d seen plenty of divorces among navy couples she and Josh knew. They went on the same way divorced couples did in civilian life, resenting child support, bitching to friends, trading kids back and forth, dating and sometimes remarrying.

  Not my fault.

  So why did it feel as though it was?

  Timing. It was all timing. She’d laid down her ultimatum—and Josh had died.

  Julia pushed aside the samples and put her elbows on the table. Finally, finally, she crept her way to her greatest fear—that she had already been attracted to Alec before she made that ultimatum. He insisted he hadn’t thought of her that way, and she was certain she hadn’t consciously thought of him as a man to whom she was attracted...but she had liked and appreciated him and looked forward eagerly to his visits.

  What if she’d already been falling in love with her husband’s brother?

  She sat without moving, frozen, for too long. Until the burst of a soundtrack from the living room made her realize how late it had gotten, and she became Mom again, insisting the TV be turned off before Liana could get engrossed in the next show, one Julia didn’t like her watching anyway.

  There was still light under Matt’s door when she went to bed herself.

  * * *

  AFTER JULIA AND LIANA left, Alec hadn’t let boredom set in. He’d been needing to make time to reread his own notes in preparation for the long-awaited trial in Los Angeles, so why not take advantage of the empty hours stretching between now and bedtime?

  The notes were from the investigation into the stabbing death of one Stanley, aka Skip, Brogan, simultaneously a midlevel drug runner and a police informant.

  Roughly three years ago, Skip had let his longtime police contact—Alec—know that he’d overheard some juicy stuff about the big guy, Perez himself, but before they could meet to talk, Skip had been found in an alley with his throat slit.

  Luck had produced an unusually observant witness who’d seen two men go into the alley and only one emerge. The witness was a then-fifteen-year-old runaway who had been huddled behind a Dumpster at the head of the alley. After the arrest, she had not only picked the killer out of a lineup, she had bravely agreed to testify at his trial. A known hit man for the cartel, Nolberto Rodriguez had cut a deal and agreed to testify that Perez had personally ordered him to take care of Skip Brogan. Unfortunately, despite the fact that Rodriguez had been moved secretly and under a new name to an Arizona prison, he’d still ended up dead, a crude handmade knife thrust with surgical precision between his ribs and into his heart.

  The runaway was eighteen now and still living with the police officer and his wife who’d taken her in initially as a foster child. She had overheard Rodriguez tell Brogan that “Roberto says you have a big mouth and it’s time to shut it.” So far, Perez hadn’t found her. Alec had been told the police officer had quietly adopted her and that using her adoptive name she would be leaving in August to attend Vassar in Poughkeepsie, New York. The skinny, scared teenager had come a long way. Alec almost wished she’d refused to testify. If she was killed and all that promise brought to an end, he’d be ready to kill Roberto Perez with his own two hands.

  He spent the next hour reading and rereading notes he already remembered better than he did most from investigations he’d conducted that long ago. Still, the review brought back the sequence of interviews. He closed his eyes and recalled faces, smells, impressions. This was one conviction he wanted fiercely.

  Eventually closing his laptop, which held the scanned pages of notes, his own and other people’s, as well as depositions and signed witness statements, Alec brooded about more immediate problems. Who was responsible for the two phone threats and the gunshots?

  Feet stacked on the coffee table, he tried turning everything he knew on end, but came back to the same answer: he didn’t know.

  What he did know was that Julia was right—he should be taking advantage of the police force of nearly a hundred men and women he commanded. He’d gained enough respect for Colin McAllister that he should long since have talked to him.

  Yes, after taking the job in Angel Butte he’d initially had to hold himself aloof. McAllister and Noah Chandler had resented his hiring, and they weren’t alone. But he’d passed that point ages ago without noticing. Although Alec boggled a little at the idea, he even thought it was possible he could become friends with the two men. They were both smart, tough and determined. Men he wouldn’t mind having at his back.

  His own laugh surprised him. Four months ago, he would have said that Colin and Noah were the two last men in the world he could trust. He shook his head. Live and learn.

  And, hey, he had a feeling Julia would give him hell if he didn’t follow orders.

  His amusement didn’t last long, not when he remembered her fear. But, in another way, the fear, along with tonight’s kiss, did give him hope that she felt more for him than gratitude and an unwilling attraction. That there might be real hope.

  * * *

  MAYOR CHANDLER WAS the last to arrive, followed by Alec’s PA, who handed out coffee for everyone.

  He, Colin and Brian Cooper were already seated in the conference area to one side of Alec’s office. Noah accepted his coffee with thanks to Robin and sat in an armchair with a grunt. Alec was reminded that he’d come damn close to dying not that long ago.

  “How was the honeymoon?” he asked. This was the first time he’d seen Noah since the wedding.

  Who knew that hard, ugly face was capable of softening like that?

  “Good.” Noah looked bemused. “Never saw myself as the lying-around-on-a-Caribbean-beach type, but I gotta say, I wasn’t real eager to get back to work.” He grinned wickedly at Colin, who was twitching a little. “We spent some time in our hotel room, too.”

  “You know I don’t want to hear about you sleeping with my sister.”

  “It’s legit now,” Noah said cheerfully. “Even George Miller is satisfied.”

  “George Miller is never satisfied,” Colin grumbled.

  George Miller was nobody’s favorite city council member.

  “Speaking of.” Noah turned penetrating blue eyes on Alec. “You ready for the council meeting?”

  “Damn straight. In fact, we’ll have the proposal and supporting information emailed to every city council member in the next day or two. You, too.”

  “It makes for good reading,” Brian Cooper said, smiling with satisfaction. He’d been responsible for producing a goodly share of the relevant statistics about how understaffed the Angel Butte P.D. had become since the annexation. Alec had packed the pages with response times, citizen complaints, the necessity and risks of sending out inexperienced officers alone on patrol. Primed by Colin, Alec had been able to pull the numbers of experienced officers who’d quit in frustration and found jobs elsewhere, exacerbating the problems in Angel Butte. He had highlighted selective quotes from the exit interviews.

 
His goal was to hit the city council so hard in his request for increased manpower, they’d go down at the first blow.

  He’d already roughed out his talk, but with so many other distractions he was glad he still had time to polish it. And, while he might feel like an idiot, he intended to practice the speech aloud half a dozen times before the council meeting Tuesday.

  Noah took a swallow of his coffee. “That what you want to talk to us about?” he asked.

  “No. This is something else.” He hesitated. “You all remember the threatening phone calls I received.”

  There were nods all around.

  “While you were away on your honeymoon,” he told Noah, “someone took some potshots at my nephew and me.” He described the circumstances and the follow-up talk he’d had with the county sheriff and his campaign manager.

  Colin’s eyes had narrowed slightly. He hadn’t altered his relaxed position, one ankle lying over the other knee, but Alec suspected he was bracing himself for an unwelcome announcement—say, that Alec had decided after all to withdraw his public support.

  “There’s something I haven’t told you,” Alec said abruptly. “Any of you.”

  They did know he was obligated to return to L.A. a few times to testify in court. But he hadn’t mentioned the scale of the Perez trial.

  He described the details of the investigation and the prosecution’s case, fresh in his mind now after his review. “Security will be tight once I arrive in L.A.,” he said. “It already is for the other witnesses, of course. I’m in a different position than they are. I declined to go into hiding. Time has rolled on by. No rumors surfaced that I had a target on my back. I can’t say it hasn’t crossed my mind a few times.”

  All three men watched him unblinkingly.

  He continued more slowly. “These threats sounded straightforward enough, so I mostly took them at face value. Why not?”

  Colin stirred. “Because if you’re blown up or shot dead in the weeks leading up to the trial, investigators were bound to look straight at Roberto Perez’s organization. Unless, of course, they’d managed to set up a fall guy. Brock.”