“It’s been seven years now, and I always try to help anyone I can. I never make a secret of my past. Someone might see me and think, ‘If she can do it, maybe I can do it.’ But that doesn’t make me a fool. To work for me, Billy had to prove himself every day.”
Seven years was a long time to be clean. Maybe Jillian did deserve a second chance.
“What type of business do you own?” Ruben’s face was the picture of innocence.
“Jillian is the famous J. R. of J. R.’s Guns and Firing Range out I-45,” Adam said, glaring at Ruben. Mamacita’s eyes grew big.
Ruben actually put his fork down for a moment. “I know that place. It had a bad reputation at one time, years ago, but lately it’s come back strong. It’s supposed to be one of the nicest places in the county.”
Jillian flashed him a smile. “Thanks, I appreciate the vote of confidence. It’s been hard. My father was the original J. R. He opened it before I was born, but he’d let it run down pretty bad by the time I started managing it. I had to get tough fast to deal with that clientele and get it back on its feet. Before he died, I completely remodeled it and put in an apartment for myself upstairs.”
Adam sat back and watched as Mamacita and Ruben warmed to Jillian.
“My biggest aim is for gun safety. I can’t keep anyone from buying a gun without getting some type of gun safe, but I price them so I don’t make any profit, and then I can shame the customers into buying one.”
With Ruben’s prodding, Jillian entertained everyone with stories of minor disasters at the store and Billy’s problems counting change. “He was an ace at mopping floors, and he could make the bathroom sparkle, but cleaning smudges off the glass display cases was beyond him. He would rub and rub, using half a bottle of Windex and a full roll of paper towels, and they would look worse when he finished than when he started.”
“My Julio was like that,” Mamacita said. “He could rake leaves until not a twig was left, or mend the screens perfectly, but give him a job inside the house, and it wasn’t worth the effort. If he washed the dishes, the floor, counter, and walls were so wet it looked as if the faucet sprang a leak and sprayed the room. I suppose we all have certain talents and should recognize them.”
“Did you let him get off dishwashing duty?” Jillian, Mamacita, and Ruben all acted as if he were invisible.
“Oh no. I just made sure he wiped everything up when he finished. We might have talents, but we still have to learn to do the things we don’t enjoy as much.”
Adam watched as Jillian relaxed and even smiled slightly.
When they finished the flan and pushed back from the table, he glanced at Ruben. “Let me help you up the stairs so you can get ready for bed.”
Ruben made a big show of looking at his watch. “When did you become so helpful?”
Jillian and Mamacita were still chatting as Adam helped Ruben climb the stairs. Their voices floated up from the dining room, and he couldn’t help eavesdropping.
“I’m in awe you made that sauce from scratch. I’ve tried it several times, but it always lacked something.” Jillian’s voice reflected the strain she’d been under, and Adam knew he didn’t have much time to talk to Ruben.
“Did you use peanut butter?” Mamacita asked. “Some people don’t. Everybody worries what’s in their food.”
“I didn’t the first time and it was too runny, but I used it the second time. Then the consistency was right, but it still had a bitter or sharp flavor.” Jillian gathered the glasses as Mrs. Marquez stacked the plates.
“I’ll tell you my secret. Use just one or two Hershey’s Kisses. Not too much. You don’t want it sweet tasting.”
“I would never have thought of that. I can see how that would take the bitterness out without being enough to change the flavor.”
Ruben stopped halfway up the stairs. “I can’t believe this. You bring over a woman who’s everything Mamacita disapproves of and instead of having a heart attack, Mamacita is divulging her secret family recipes.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You don’t understand. Those recipes are never shared. Even the daughters-in-law don’t know them.”
“I think it’s the women you bring home Mamacita disapproves of, not what they do for a living.” Adam pulled on Ruben’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get you to your room. I have something important I need to talk to you about.”
“It better be important. I’m only allowed up and down the stairs once a day, and I usually like to wait till at least dark before I go to bed.”
Ruben’s room hadn’t changed since high school. His half was decorated with the football trophies he won first as a defensive lineman at Milby High School and later as a Texas Tech Red Raider. His brother’s half was full of science fair projects and certificates.
Adam couldn’t help smiling. The room he’d shared with his brother had been full of toy cars on his side and toy soldiers on his brother’s half.
Ruben sat on one bed and Adam sat on the other, facing him, knees almost touching. “You remember our cold case of the teenage girl shot with an old Lugar?”
“I had my appendix out, not a lobotomy.” Ruben rolled his eyes. “Yes, I remember. A booger of a case with no leads in sight.”
“Well, I have a new case. Middle-aged druggie living under a bridge near Montrose. Now we get to the interesting part. Ballistics came out a match for the two shootings.”
“Any sign the two vics knew each other?” Even at half-speed, Ruben was ahead of any partner he’d worked with in his twelve years on the force.
“They were both high, as was my prime suspect. But I won’t know if it’s the same stuff for a day or two. Longer if Mai can find a way of keeping the reports from me.”
Ruben’s expression clearly indicated he’d said I told you so enough times that it didn’t need repeating.
“I think the second vic might have been the dealer,” Adam added quickly, before Ruben could comment.
“What about the gun? Where’d he get it? That might tell you something. Can you trace it?”
“Oh, I can trace it all right. I can trace it all the way back to Jillian’s father.”
“Madre de Dios. You do have a problem.”
“Just wait, because that isn’t even the biggest complication.”
“I don’t think I want to hear this.” Ruben chewed his thumb-nail.
“When J. R., Sr. died, Jillian took the gun, which was the same one her sister accidentally shot herself with and her mother committed suicide with, to Travis Street Headquarters and told them to destroy it.”
Ruben groaned. “So she says. How long have you known her? Two days? Okay, she’s sexy as all get out, and she has a smile that goes right through you, although you might have to be careful not to put your eye out on one of those hair spikes. I know you’ve been on a long dry spell, but don’t get foolish about this. I hope you’ve learned not to let your dick do your thinking for you.”
Adam grimaced. He liked Ruben, a lot, but. . . ”Hey, you worry about your dick, and I’ll worry about mine.”
Ruben held up his hand. “Fine, but does she have any proof she turned the gun in?”
“She has proof. She kept the receipt. And we’re not to the best part yet.”
Ruben didn’t speak, he just held out his hands, palm up, as if to say, What else could there possibly be?
“I checked the schedule. The desk sergeant on duty was Calvin Marshall.”
“Who’ve you talked to about this?” Ruben’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“No one. I drove out to question Jillian this afternoon, but when I got there she was in shock because her friend died. Which, by the way, ties her to another unnatural death.” Shit, he hated to say that out loud.
“You have to question her. I don’t care how upset she is.”
“I know.” This kept getting worse and worse.
“You can’t question Marshall or tell Hard Luck until you have every lead followed and every fact checked seven ways from Sunday.”
“I want to check everything I can first thing Monday morning. I need to learn more about the probable shooter, Eddie Coleman. Remember him?”
Ruben rubbed his chin. “I never knew Eddie to be violent.”
“That’s the only reason I was still working the case. He’s locked up on other charges, so I haven’t worried about him till now. Then on Tuesday I plan to question Jillian further. You got any suggestions?”
“Watch your back. Document everything. This could get ugly. I never dreamed I’d be happy I was laid up. Don’t forget, Marshall has a reputation for retaliating against anyone who crosses him.”
Adam ran a hand through his hair. He’d heard about Marshall’s reputation and had no desire to cross him, but he wouldn’t be frightened off the case.
When he got back downstairs, Adam found Mamacita showing Jillian pictures of her children and grandchildren. Jillian was holding Ruben’s Police Academy graduation portrait.
“Now Vincente, he’s my youngest, he’s at MIT on full scholarship.” Mamacita lifted a silver-framed photo of Vincente
“You have a lovely family, Mrs. Marquez. You should be very proud.” Jillian replaced the photo of Ruben amid the others on the crowded mantel.
“You must call me Mamacita. All Ruben’s friends do. Make Adam bring you back soon. Not working is hard on Ruben.”
Adam took Jillian’s elbow and led her toward the door. They made their goodbyes and started for the car. Jillian was quiet for most of the ride, which was fine with him. Hell, he was still trying to digest the fact that she’d had a drug problem.
She twisted as much as the seat belt allowed and smiled at him. “Thank you for making me join you tonight. I didn’t think I could be around people, but it was exactly what I needed. I can see that Ruben’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
“You were what Ruben needed to take his mind off his troubles.”
Jillian laughed, and he realized how much he liked the sound. “With Mamacita watching over him like a Yucatan Raven, I don’t see how Ruben could get into trouble,” she said.
“You’d be surprised how much he manages.” He smiled, remembering past episodes, but he didn’t know her well enough yet to share examples. Besides, he didn’t fare too well in the stories either.
“What about you? Who’s in your life that you can turn to during bad times?”
She was silent long enough that he wondered what she was hiding.
“Billy was,” she finally answered.
When they reached the store, he escorted her to the bottom of an outside flight of stairs he hadn’t noticed before. He couldn’t decide what to do with his hands, so he jammed them in his pockets. When she reached the top, he headed back to the car.
“Adam?”
He swung around to face her. It was the first time she’d called him by name, and he realized he liked it, liked her. Too bad she was still a suspect in his investigation.
“Did you know I’m a good cook?”
“Well, I’m not surprised. I heard you talking to Mamacita.” He took his hands out of his pockets, but then jammed them back in again.
“Saturday is my busy day. With Billy gone it’s going to be a madhouse. I’m closed on Sundays. In the morning I do the laundry and grocery shopping. In the evening I like to cook. Nothing fancy.”
She took a step down, closer to him. “I think the Rockets are playing the Lakers. There’re only a few games left this season so it should be exciting. It’s a young team and they’re still hungry. Playing the Lakers should bring out the best in them. What do you say? Are you up for it?”
“Home cooked food and a ball game? I can’t think of anything nicer.”
“Good. I’ll see you around six.” She stepped back onto the deck and disappeared around the corner.
Now what? Would he be on duty or off? He could picture Hard Luck’s face if he put in for four hours of overtime for eating dinner with Jillian and watching a ballgame. Yet her admission to prior drug use was disturbing.
It certainly wasn’t the first time a woman had asked him out, but whenever it happened he became suspicious. He usually discovered she has some ulterior motive.
He’d never so much as fixed a parking ticket, no matter where the woman had her hands when she asked, and he didn’t plan to start now. One step down that road was one step too many and had led to the downfall of many a good cop.
Still, he had to wonder, what had Jillian been up to that she needed his help to fix?
Adam carried his coffee and newspaper onto the deck. No reason to waste the perfect spring Saturday morning indoors. Before settling into his favorite Adirondack chair, he leaned his elbows on the deck railing and took a deep breath. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers, although his beds were mostly shrubs. Mrs. Daniels’ roses must be blooming, or was it her carnations? Odd, he’d never noticed the aroma before, but it was strong today. Hopefully, Rover wouldn’t decide to use her flower beds for his litter box. He’d hear about it if the old cat set a paw in her yard.
A woodpecker hung awkwardly on the bird-feeder, fishing for a sunflower seed. Once he found a seed, he flew to the nearest tree, lodged it in the bark, and cracked it open. A lot of work for one seed. Like digging through stacks of paperwork to find one fact that didn’t fit.
As he pushed off from the railing, a resounding crack split the air. A section of the deck railing broke away, falling to the ground and taking him with it. Wings fluttered as birds scattered in all directions. Then it was completely silent.
A voice called from the other side of the fence. “You okay over there, Adam?” He lay still for a moment before tentatively moving his arms and legs. Nothing broken but his damn deck. How the hell did that happen? He’d built it himself and knew it was solid.
The deck was only a foot off the ground, and he’d fallen into a freshly mulched flower bed. “I’m fine,” he called back. “The only thing injured was my pride.”
He didn’t know why the railing had broken, so he replaced the entire length. By evening he was tired and sore, but that rail wouldn’t break again, no matter what crashed into it. Of course, he’d thought that about the last one.
On Sunday he slept late, then went to the store. In ten minutes flat his cart was filled with cat food and frozen dinners. The damn cat ate better than he did. But not tonight. Tonight was his dinner with Jillian. Was it a date? A thank you? She didn’t seem like the type to play games or have ulterior motives, but he’d been fooled before. Better keep his eyes open, just in case.
Either way, it was an excellent opportunity to get a better read on her. Besides, he never liked to pass up a good meal.
He allowed himself forty-five minutes for the drive to Jillian’s. If he was running late, he could always use the siren to make up time. He inhaled deeply and thought of spice and flowers. A hostess gift. How could he have forgotten? The one mannerly rule his mother had drummed into him that he actually followed.
But what would be appropriate? His usual, roses, felt wrong. Their aroma followed him everywhere he went lately and for some reason he found it unpleasant. She didn’t seem like the fancy wine type, so what was left, a six-pack of beer? The lights of a convenience store appeared a block ahead. There might not be another one before he reached her place. No traffic was approaching, so he made a quick left toward the parking lot. A pick-up truck came out of nowhere and blew past him, horn blaring, and missed his bumper by inches. He was still breathing hard when he went inside.
“That’s a tricky corner,” the clerk said. “I’ve seen three bad accidents since I started working here. I think that sign blocks the view. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt.”
“Yeah, that’s me, lucky.” He sat down the six-pack and wiped his palms on his pant legs.
By the time he reached Jillian’s, he had other things on his mind and the near accident was forgotten.
The aroma of roasting meat was immediately noticeable as he stepped from his car. He stood for a moment, glancing
from the front door to the stairs.
“Come on up. I decided to cook outside. It’s too nice a day to stay in.” Jillian waved from the top of the stairs, holding an extra-long spatula in one hand. She was wearing shorts, sandals, and a racer-back tank. He’d never seen legs that long and inviting.
Adam’s eyes immediately found the rose tattoo on her shoulder blade. The overwhelming need to know if she had another somewhere on her body returned. The fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra didn’t escape his notice either. He was a trained investigator after all. Keep your head on straight and your dick under control. This is a working evening.
The stairs led to a deck that circled the back of the apartment. It held two comfortable lawn chairs, a small table, and a late model grill. “I didn’t notice this when I was here before. You have a great view.”
“I have to close the curtains during the day to keep the heat out. You should’ve seen the view before that last hurricane came right over my head. I spent every weekend for six months clearing out dead trees and brush.”
“Did you have much damage?” Adam looked out over a large cleared area with a gazebo surrounded by heavy woods.
“Only if you call no electricity for sixteen days damage. It was more of an annoyance than a problem because I have a generator for the store. Man, a few days without lights takes us right back to the Stone Age. I had my busiest month ever. People worried they needed some protection, sitting in the dark. What about you, did you have any damage?”
“I only had three days without lights and even then I could charge my cell phone at the station. We were plenty busy though. People aren’t at their best when they’ve been promised ice and water at a certain location only to find it all gone after they waited in line for a couple of hours.”
Adam prowled around the deck, gently shaking the railing. It looked good, but so had his. Until it fell for no apparent reason.
The Secrets on Forest Bend Page 5
