by Beverly Long
She certainly wasn’t going to start with Robert Hanson.
She quickly finished her ice cream and pushed the empty dish aside. “I should be getting back,” she said.
Robert nodded and helped her with her coat. Once outside, she saw that the streetlights were on and darkness was fast approaching. “Do you want to catch a cab?” Robert asked.
She shook her head. This was her favorite time of day to be out. It still felt safe and the city was always prettier when the lights were on. “It’s only seven blocks,” she said. “Let’s walk.”
Two blocks down on the corner, a travel agency had big posters of tropical locales in their front window. She stopped to take a better look. “Speaking of tropical,” she said, “doesn’t that look wonderful? This time of year I’m envious when anyone talks about their warm-weather vacations.”
“Aruba, Bermuda or the Cayman Islands?” he asked, letting his eyes run down the alphabetized list of destinations. “What’s your pleasure?”
She smiled. “All of them. One right after another.”
He reached for the door handle. “Let’s see what they’ve got.”
He was serious. Oh, good Lord. “I was only kidding,” she said, pulling his hand off the door handle.
He looked her in the eye. “Too late. I can see the way to your heart is hot sand and an icy rum drink.”
The way to her heart? He was teasing, but it made her feel warm all over to think that he was looking for a path. Robert Hanson was a very nice guy, and she really couldn’t remember ever having a better day.
“I really have to be getting home,” she said.
“Okay. We’ll put this conversation on hold for now.”
When they got to the front steps of her building, it suddenly seemed awkward. She still didn’t know why Robert Hanson had knocked on her door or why he’d spent the afternoon with her.
“Thanks for the movie,” she said.
“My pleasure.”
“And the ice cream, too.”
He nodded. “Likewise. The popcorn and M&M’S were great.”
Too bad they hadn’t had time for more food. Their conversation could have lasted through the night. She climbed up two of the steps. “I guess I better go.”
“Can I ask you something?” Robert asked. He looked serious.
No. “Sure.”
“Can I call you?” he asked.
So he hadn’t missed that she’d been evasive back at the ice cream store. He’d evidently decided on a more direct approach. Well, maybe she should follow suit. “Why? Something tells me that you’re not the type to spend your time going to movies and eating ice cream.”
He considered. “I think you’re wrong. I had a great time this afternoon.”
He sounded as if he meant it. “Maybe,” she said, letting him know she wasn’t convinced. “I guess you could call me.”
He nodded. “Good. You know we’re going to talk about why you were crying,” he said, so casually that she almost missed it.
“Not today,” she said.
He nodded. “Okay, not today. Maybe not even tomorrow or the next day. But soon. I don’t want you to be upset. When you are, I want to know why.”
“You can’t fix everything, you know?”
He shrugged. “Who says?”
She rolled her eyes. “I have to go.” She took a step and her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and looked at the number. Alexa Sage.
“Hi, Alexa, this is Carmen.” She listened, interrupting just once. “Slow down, Alexa. You’re hard to understand.”
After a minute, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop in twenty minutes. Pack an extra outfit in your backpack and we’ll worry about the rest later. It’s going to be okay, honey.”
She put her phone back in her purse and met Robert’s eyes. “Alexa and her dad had a big fight. She’s leaving home. I’m going to meet her and have her stay with me tonight until I can find her a place tomorrow.”
Chapter Nine
“Is she hurt?” Robert asked, already pulling out his own phone.
“No. He didn’t touch her or her mother. Just a lot of yelling and slamming doors and threatening to kick her and her pregnant belly out into the cold.”
“She’s a minor child. We can call child welfare services.”
“We could but they aren’t going to do anything. They’ve got a backlog of cases involving really young children that are going to be higher in the pecking order. The best thing to do is simply get her out of there.”
She was probably right. “Don’t you think having her stay here is a little bit like waving a red flag in front of Frank Sage? He’s already not crazy about you and suddenly you’re harboring his wayward daughter.”
Carmen shrugged. “I’m not going to have her stay in a hotel by herself, and I’ll need at least a day to work out housing in one of our group homes. It will be fine. It’s just for tonight, maybe two nights at the most. But I really need to get going if I’m going to be on time to the coffee shop. I wish Raoul was here. I’d feel better if I knew that he was home safe.”
“I’ll stay and wait for him,” Robert said. That way he’d be there when Carmen and Alexa returned. Just in case dear old Dad decided to follow her. “What’s his friend Jacob’s number just in case I need to track him down?”
Carmen scrolled through her phone and rattled it off. Robert entered it into his own phone.
Robert used Carmen’s keys to let himself into the apartment. It seemed longer than five hours since they’d left. The movie had been good. Sitting in the dark, holding hands with Carmen, sharing popcorn laced with chocolate, had been pretty damn fabulous.
That stupid crack about having to get married had just popped out of his mouth. Had no idea where it had come from. Certainly after hearing about the litany of husbands his mother had collected, she’d understand why he wasn’t the marrying kind.
He hadn’t wanted the afternoon to end. But he could only stretch out a bowl of ice cream for so long. On the walk back to her apartment, he’d found himself thinking about whether she might invite him in and then wondering what he would do if she did.
As though he were a seventeen-year-old boy on a date with the head cheerleader.
Thank God Sawyer wasn’t around to witness how pathetic he was. Speaking of which, he should check in. He’d left a message for his partner earlier when Carmen had been in the shower.
“Hi, it’s me,” Robert said. “Got a minute?”
“Not much more than that,” Sawyer said. “It’s my turn to cook and I’m making jambalaya. The rice is almost done.”
Robert smiled. The image of Sawyer, one of the toughest cops he’d ever worked with, sitting home waiting for rice to boil, was pretty damn amusing. “Were you able to check out the Gottart Studio?”
“Yeah. Good call on your part. Ben Johanson and Henry Wright both took music lessons there.”
Victims two and four. “But not the other boys?”
“Not on the customer list. I called Michelle Whitmore just to make sure that Johnnie hadn’t taken lessons there and she’d never heard of the place.”
That was disappointing. “So we’ve got one slim link between two of the kids. I guess that’s more than we had before.”
“Absolutely,” Sawyer said. “You can chase it down tomorrow, although I do think a whole lot of middle-school kids play an instrument.”
“Yeah, I think it gets them out of a science class or something like that.”
“Maybe,” Sawyer said. “Got to go. I don’t want my rice getting sticky.”
* * *
RAOUL WAITED IN line for the diving board, his arms wrapped around his naked chest. He didn’t like swim parties. He was always the skinniest kid there. Even
so, when Mrs. Minelli had called and invited him to Jacob’s surprise party, he hadn’t been able to say no. After all, Mrs. Minelli cried easily. She used to cry at soccer games and everything. And Jacob was his best friend.
But Jacob was mad at him. Mrs. Minelli didn’t know that. Probably not many knew it besides Jacob and Raoul. Carmen couldn’t know it. She’d freak out. She’d start asking a bunch of questions and he’d have to lie to her.
It had been a mistake to show Jacob the gun. He’d gotten all freaked out, said that Raoul was going to get arrested. Had gotten so loud that Raoul had needed to tell him to shut up. Jacob had told him that he was going to laugh when Raoul needed bail money. Had told Raoul that he was crazy to take a gun from somebody that he didn’t know just because the guy claimed to be a friend of his brother’s.
But Jacob never had a brother who’d died. Jacob maybe didn’t understand everything.
Now Jacob came up and stood behind him in line. He didn’t say a word. Two more people jumped off the board. They moved up. Raoul had his foot on the first step of the ladder.
“I don’t know why you came,” Jacob whispered.
Raoul didn’t turn around.
“I don’t know why you want to spend time with a bunch of kids when you could be out shooting people.”
Raoul whipped around. “I already told you once. Shut up.”
“Hey, maybe you can join a gang, too. That would be cool. Who wears blue?” Jacob pointed at Raoul’s swim trunks.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Raoul said.
“You’re so stupid,” Jacob said. “I’m not even going to feel bad when they find you all shot up.”
Raoul could tell his friend was about to cry. “Jacob, look—”
“Hey, you’re holding up the line,” someone yelled from the back.
Raoul climbed up the remaining eight steps. He turned one last time to his friend. But Jacob was gone. Raoul looked around and saw Jacob and Pete, another kid from class, jump into the shallow end. They were laughing.
Screw it. Screw them. He didn’t need any of them. He jumped off the board, not bothering to kick to the surface until his lungs were about to explode. He swam over to the side, picked up his towel and walked over to Mrs. Minelli.
“I’m not feeling so good,” Raoul said. “I think I better call my sister.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Mrs. Minelli grabbed his chin and gave him a close look. “Did you eat too much before you swam?”
“Yes, that must have been it,” Raoul said.
“You boys,” Mrs. Minelli scolded.
“Well, I guess I’ll go get dressed.”
“Jacob will be so disappointed.”
Jacob wouldn’t even know Raoul had left. If he did, he sure wouldn’t care.
Raoul thought about calling Carmen to pick him up. She was expecting him to get a ride home from Mrs. Minelli. It didn’t matter. It was warm enough to walk home.
He’d been walking for less than a minute when an old black car pulled up. The passenger door swung open. Apollo was driving. There was an open beer in the cup holder next to him.
“Hey, Raoul. Want a lift?”
Carmen would kill him if he got in a car with somebody who had been drinking. “No, thanks,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Last night you mentioned that you had a birthday party here today.”
He had. Apollo had asked him if he wanted to learn to shoot the gun on Saturday and he’d had to tell him why he couldn’t. But he hadn’t expected the guy would be hanging out, waiting for him. What if Carmen had picked him up? What if she somehow found out that he had a gun in his backpack?
“Look, I’ve got to get home,” Raoul said.
“How’s your sister?” Apollo asked.
“She’s okay, I guess,” Raoul said, feeling uncomfortable with the question.
Cars were swerving around Apollo’s car and some were honking their horns.
“Get in. We can talk some more.”
Raoul slid into the car. The car smelled bad, sort of like the locker room but different. “Does Carmen know you?”
Apollo shook his head. “We met a couple times when Hector was alive. But that was a long time ago. So, do you have the gun?”
Raoul nodded and pointed at his backpack. “It’s heavy.”
“Yeah. Meet me tomorrow night at ten o’clock and I’ll show you how to shoot it.”
Ten o’clock. Carmen would never let him leave the apartment at ten o’clock on a Sunday night. “I don’t know,” he said, not willing to admit that he might not be able to get out of the apartment.
“Speedy’s Used Cars. Don’t disappoint me, Raoul.” Apollo pulled up next to the curb and motioned for Raoul to get out. Once he did, the black car sped away.
Ten minutes later, Raoul was a half a block from his apartment when Beau and JJ came around the corner. They didn’t look surprised to see him. What the hell were they doing in his neighborhood? He had no idea where they lived, but he doubted that it was nearby. He’d been living in the area his whole life and he’d never seen them around before.
“Hey there, Raoul,” Beau said. “All done with your little friend’s birthday party? Did you play pin the tail on the donkey? Oh, never mind. It was at a pool. It would have been pin the tail on the porpoise.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked. He felt braver than usual. Maybe it was the gun in his backpack. “How did you know about Jacob’s party?”
“Aren’t you full of questions?” JJ said.
“I help out in the office,” Beau said. “’Cause I’m such a good kid,” he said mockingly. “Your friend’s mother came in and was telling one of the office bitches all about it. I looked up your address. Thought it might be nice if we knew where you lived.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Haven’t you heard, Raoul? Knowledge is power. We own you. You better bring more money to school next week for lunches.”
They walked past him. Beau bumped into his shoulder, sending him sideways. They never looked back.
He walked the rest of the way home, feeling sick to his stomach. He unlocked the door and pushed it open with his foot. Once inside, he stopped. The cop was sitting at his kitchen table.
Could the day get any worse?
“What are you doing here?” Raoul asked.
“Hi. Nice to see you, too.” Robert took a drink of coffee that he’d evidently helped himself to. “Your sister had to go help a client. She should be back soon.”
“So now I need a babysitter?”
Robert shrugged. “Carmen didn’t want you coming home to an empty apartment. She cares, Raoul. That’s not really something to be mad about.”
“Whatever.” He bent down to pick up Lucy, who had suddenly appeared from wherever it was that she’d been hiding. Raoul gently slung her over one shoulder. “I’ve got things to do in my room.”
“No problem,” Robert said, as if he couldn’t care less what Raoul did. “How was the birthday party?”
Man, was Carmen telling this guy everything? “Fine,” he said. He opened his bedroom door, went inside, and slammed it shut behind him.
* * *
ROBERT DRUMMED HIS fingers on the table, more agitated than he’d been in some time. It had been a crazy day. Some deep lows. Some big highs. Like Carmen licking her butter pecan ice cream off her spoon—that vision was likely to keep him up a few nights.
And then the call from Alexa. Big downward dip. Not that he didn’t appreciate and understand Carmen’s commitment to OCM’s clients. After all, he was pretty committed to his work, too.
But why the hell did this particular commitment have to involve Frank Sage? Robert had gotten a look at the guy’s eyes. They were so angry.
&
nbsp; Plus for the past half hour, he’d been wondering just what it could have been that had made Carmen so sad. Sad enough that she’d been crying hard.
Was she worried about money? He’d give her some.
Had someone been mean to her? He could make that stop fast.
Was it simply the stress of trying to raise a fifteen-year-old on her own?
Wasn’t sure how to make that better. He’d been a fifteen-year-old boy at one time but he sure as hell didn’t know anything about parenting one.
He heard the downstairs door open and then footsteps. Quiet voices. Carmen came in first. She was smiling, and he took that as a good sign.
“Hi,” she said. “Raoul get home?”
“Yes. In his room.”
She turned to the young girl behind her. “Alexa, you remember Robert Hanson?”
The girl nodded. “I think my dad does, too.”
Good. That’s the way he wanted it. Robert stood up. “Does your dad know that you’re here?”
“I don’t know. I told my mom. Not sure if she’ll tell him. I don’t think he cares,” she said.
Robert wasn’t so sure. “What’s next?” he asked, looking from Carmen to Alexa.
“Alexa will stay here tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll visit a couple places where she might stay for the duration of her pregnancy and for a few weeks after delivery.”
Well, it sounded as if they had a plan. And it didn’t include him.
That was okay. He had his own plans for tomorrow. Another Wednesday loomed. He’d be solo tomorrow. Sawyer had worked his extra shift today because Liz’s parents were celebrating their fortieth anniversary and Sawyer and Liz had a command performance for lunch in the suburbs.
Sawyer had said that he might be back in time to join the rest of the department as they helped Wasimole turn fifty on Sunday evening at Bolder’s, his favorite neighborhood bar. There’d be beer, darts, pizza and stupid humor.
Just what Robert needed to get his head back on straight. To keep him from thinking about raising teenagers and consoling crying women.
There’d been some discussion about canceling the party but in the end, Lieutenant Fischer had settled that. He was smart enough to realize that what the group needed was a couple hours to blow off steam before they hit it hard again.
