Lucky For You

by Jayne Denker

  Jordan had been working with Summer in her teen outreach program, and she actually seemed to be enjoying herself. She was always excited to share stories about what happened at the sessions, especially those moments when she had gotten through to the girls and sparked a change in their behavior or outlook. She liked the work so much that her sarcasm dropped away, and she told her stories with an optimistic light in her eye. Maybe it was hokey to think that by helping to heal these girls, she was healing herself, but Will hoped it was the case all the same.

  “So, do you get some kind of commission or bonus when you crack a case?” she asked. “Because if you do, I want a cut.”

  “You know, for having a boyfriend who’s a cop, not to mention your own legal experience, you have a very sketchy understanding of how law enforcement works.”

  “Want to make the collar? I’ve got ’em all detained here at the church.”

  “That’s it. No more procedurals for you, Jargon Girl. I’m hiding the remote.”

  “You want me to cut ’em loose, then?”

  “Not quite. I’ve got a better idea. Just keep them there till I get there.”

  Twenty minutes later, Will strode up the front walk of the Church of the Arts. High on a hill overlooking the south end of town, the building, almost as old as the town itself, was as quirky as the resident artists who built it. Additions glommed onto the main structure like a cluster of mushrooms. Sculptures on the front lawn, a hand-carved altar, and elaborate stained-glass windows made the place distinctive. Will pulled open the wooden door, so thick and heavy it looked like it belonged on a hobbit hole, and ushered in the men he’d brought along.

  Jordan was just outside the small room where the teen group met. She swung on the doorjamb, looking like a teenager herself, and smiled at him. “You brought some friends.”

  “We’re all going to have a little chat.”

  Jordan stopped him before he went into the meeting room. “No Jesse?” she murmured.

  He shook his head. “It’s all set. Just let me take it from here.”

  “I trust you.”

  Heat bloomed in his chest and spread through his limbs. Jordan trusted him. That was worth all his efforts right there.

  “Crap, are we going to jail?” Skylar, the girl Jordan called Blue because of her preferred hair color, groused as she slouched in one of the chairs. The sight of Will apparently was alarming enough to get her to look up from her phone, where her eyes were usually glued. “We’re screwed, girls. He’s got our ringleader with him. Hey, Mr. Carroll, are you going to jail too?”

  Summer sighed. “Skylar, just hang on a second, all right? Let Officer Nash talk.”

  “I still think we shouldn’t have given up,” Grace said, crossing her arms defensively, her beautiful green eyes darting from Will to Nate to Ray. The third man smiled placidly, half a step behind the others.

  “No, you absolutely should have,” Will said calmly. He didn’t want to spook the girls. He wanted to get all this sorted out and, he hoped, end this nonsense once and for all.

  “Well, now that Christmas is over, we’re kind of out of a job anyway,” Danielle muttered, plucking at a thread on the cuff of her ubiquitous giant sweatshirt. “Unless these guys want to make their pranks a year-round thing.”

  “The Christmas season is long enough,” Jordan said, taking her seat among the girls. “And Mr. Carroll was wrong to get you involved in it this year. Weren’t you, Mr. Carroll?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

  His gaze skittered away nervously. “Nice to see you again, girls. You’re all looking well.”

  Destiny, the girl with the tiny glasses, snorted. Her lenses glittered, reflecting the overhead lights. “Does this mean we aren’t going to get paid anymore?”

  “At least you’ve got a job at the library,” tiny Sydney peeped. “Wish I could snag something sweet like that.”

  “It’s not fun,” Destiny retorted, shifting on her chair. “Surrounded by books all day.”

  “You could try reading some of them,” Summer suggested. “You’ve got a great opportunity there; don’t waste it.”

  Destiny snorted again, like it was the most ridiculous idea in the world.

  “Okay, girls, this is what’s going to happen,” Will interrupted, shifting the weight of his utility belt. Jordan made an enthusiastic face and gave him a hidden thumbs up for that move. It was so hard to keep a straight face around her, but he had to look as serious as possible to make this work. “I hear you’ve admitted to perpetrating the pranks and vandalism on Mr. Dubois’s print shop.”

  “Hey, there was no vandalism,” Grace insisted. “Well, no damage. Okay, nothing permanent.”

  “The only thing we asked you girls to do was to confess to the crimes, which you have, and to give up the name or names of whoever vandalized Mr. Carroll’s office, which you haven’t.” They all looked alarmed, and some started to protest, but he held up a hand. “However, after some investigation on my part, I’ve learned Mr. Dubois was actually the perpetrator of his own pranks.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jordan sit up straighter, frowning suspiciously. Even Summer looked skeptical. But he stuck to his script. He’d had a talk with Ray, who’d seemed quite open to anything he had to suggest—he was more cheerful and amenable than Will had ever seen him, which was, quite frankly, kind of creepy—and he was more than willing to leave any mention of Jesse out of any Christmas Wars conversation. As far as Ray was concerned, Jesse was never involved. He was even willing to go so far as to say he didn’t even know Jesse, but nobody would believe that—the town was too small.

  “Now let’s talk punishment.”

  All the girls fidgeted, their expressions closing down immediately. Jordan and Summer, on the other hand, had to duck their heads because they were prone to laughing at his tough-guy act. Thanks a lot for the support, ladies.

  “I could charge all of you with vandalism and various other offenses. But,” he said, pausing for effect, “because all of these pranks were engineered by two adult men who should know better, I think maybe they should take responsibility for everything that occurred during the months of November and December. Gentlemen . . .”

  “Now, hold on just a minute—” Nate began, but he was drowned out by a chorus of approval from the girls.

  “I’d be up for that.”

  Silence from everyone, as they all swiveled their heads to stare at Ray. He stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels with a wide, placid smile on his face. Exactly the way he never looked or behaved. Ever. Jordan caught Will’s eye and mouthed “What the fuck?” Will shrugged.

  Ray had long been known as the person in Marsden with the shortest fuse. Controlling, domineering, and a general pain in the ass. Will had a sneaking suspicion that even though everyone officially disapproved of Jordan blowing up his one-man show by setting off firecrackers on the town green so many years ago, secretly they wholeheartedly approved and wished they’d thought of it. Not that anybody would admit it, but still. Ray had that effect on people.

  So where did this mellow Ray come from? Will had no idea, but he’d take it.

  “Ray,” he ventured, “are you saying you’d be willing to face charges for the disruption you’ve caused the town?”

  “Sure, sure. Whatever you think is best.”

  “Okay, then. Nate? Are you up for that as well?”

  Nate made a face. Ray nudged him with his elbow. “Come on, Carroll. Let’s own up to all this nonsense.”

  “I don’t want to go to jail!”

  “Wuss.”

  The girls thought that was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Ray laughed along with them and poked Nate in the side again, this time with his finger, like he was trying to make the Pillsbury Doughboy giggle. Nate didn’t find it funny at all.

  “How about this,” Will said. “The most egregious ‘prank’ this year was when . . . er, you, Ray . . . cut down the Marsden United Faiths’ Promises Tree.�
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  “Well . . .” Ray flushed crimson. “It wasn’t exactly planned. But that was a bit much, yes.”

  “An act of vandalism you committed,” Will repeated, with a significant look at him.

  “Yes, all right. I did.”

  “Which prevented all the charity promises tied to the tree from being fulfilled this year, which was a big loss to the town. The churches were understandably very upset. So if the two of you will make restitution to cover the cost of all the acts of charity on the notes tied to the tree, we’ll forget the whole thing. Clean slate for everyone. Deal?”

  When both men agreed, Will let out a relieved breath. Issue settled, and maybe he could hold all of this over their heads if they tried this garbage again next year.

  “You’re welcome,” Will prompted.

  “Yeah, all right.”

  Will didn’t often visit Jesse at his home. It was an unpleasant little apartment in a building on Main Street, over Luigi’s Chinese, so there were always weird fryer smells drifting up from the odd Italian /Chinese/Vietnamese/Thai restaurant. Cracks in the plaster, stains in the sink, and likely all sorts of vermin in the walls and under the floorboards, just waiting till nightfall to roam free in the place. Jesse didn’t exactly keep it spotless . . . well, not even remotely clean.

  Will leaned against the kitchen counter while his brother washed the grime of his mechanic job off his hands with dish soap, leaving pools of black bubbly water behind on the edge of the sink. Will fought down the urge to grab a paper towel or a sponge and clean it all off before it stained the old, dull porcelain. Instead, he reached over, picked up some mostly empty takeout containers, and dumped them in the trash bin. Jesse just rolled his eyes.

  “That’s it? ‘All right’?” Will prompted.

  “God. Thank you.”

  “Now you can promise not to screw up anymore.”

  “Right.” Jesse snorted skeptically. “I never make promises I can’t keep.”

  That really fried Will’s nards. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to be a cop with a brother who keeps getting in trouble all the time?”

  “Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a brother who’s a cop?”

  “Come on, man up. What twenty-three-year-old skates that close to getting in trouble with the law again by vandalizing property in a prank war? You’ve got a job, you’ve got a family—act like it. Don’t you even miss seeing Arielle?”

  “Sure.”

  “Very convincing.”

  “Okay, fine. She freaks me out. She’s so . . . little. And squishy. And noisy. And smelly. I’m always afraid I’m going to break her or do the wrong thing.”

  “Ever thought about learning to do the right thing? How about a parenting class?”

  “For the idiots who don’t know which end of a baby is up? No thanks.”

  “You’re one of the idiots who doesn’t know which end of a baby is up. There’s no harm in getting help if you need it. Just . . . try, okay? You owe Ronnie that much. She didn’t make that baby by herself, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know how it works, bro.”

  “Then you also know the most important parts of being a father come after the baby shows up, right?”

  “Shit. You can leave now. All your self-righteousness is sucking the air out of the room.”

  Will sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Sorry. I just . . . you’re my brother, and I want to see you make something of your life. Is that so wrong?”

  “When you throw your life in my face and mine doesn’t measure up, yeah.”

  “It’s not what I intended.”

  “But it happens all the time anyway. Impressive job, great girlfriend. Appreciate her, by the way. She’s too good for you.”

  After a stunned pause, Will said, “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. Thank you. I thought I was the only person in town who could see it.”

  “She’s different. Honest. And real. Most people aren’t. Plus she’s hot as fu—”

  “Hey.”

  Jesse actually grinned. “Just . . . don’t forget that, okay?”

  “Couldn’t possibly.” Will headed for the door, thought of something, and turned back to his brother. “Why don’t you hang out with us sometime? That is, if you can keep your hands off my girl.”

  Jesse thought about it, then said, “Sure, maybe. Why not?” Will nodded and turned to go, but it was his brother who stopped him this time. “Hey. How’d you know it was me, anyway?”

  “Jordan.”

  “Damn, she’s smart, too, huh?”

  “Better believe it. But she swore she’d never tell, just like Ray.”

  “How’d you manage Ray, anyway?”

  “No idea. I caught him in a good mood.”

  “Get outta here,” Jesse marveled.

  “I’ve never seen him so . . . calm before. You didn’t sell him any weed, did you?”

  “Nah.” Jesse didn’t specify whether he was denying he sold weed, or just didn’t sell it to Ray, and Will didn’t pursue the matter. “He’s not smoking. He’s banging that dress store chick.”

  Huh. Well, Ray had been divorced for years, hadn’t dated much; maybe Missy Preston was right when she said he just needed to get his . . . wait. “Uh, what? Missy Preston is dating Harvey Nostrand.”

  “No, not her. The other one. The one with the . . .” And Jesse illustrated who he was talking about by popping his eyes out, big and round.

  “Wh—Audra?” It came out as a horrified squeak.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. I heard they hooked up at the wedding.”

  “That’s just . . . gross.”

  “What’s gross about it? He’s happy, she’s got a sugar daddy. They’re helping each other out, everything’s fine. What’s the problem?”

  “Maybe because Ray went to school with Audra’s parents?”

  “If it’s taking the edge off Ray, what do you care? It’s better for the whole town.”

  Will couldn’t argue with that. And he realized he couldn’t wait to share this particular morsel of gossip with Jordan. It seemed like whatever happened in town, whatever news he picked up, she was the first person he wanted to share it with. That gave him a warm feeling. The dirt about Ray and Audra, not so much. Even though this finally was going to get Bedelia off his ass once and for all.

  Chapter 29

  “A what?”

  “Yeah. I know,” Jordan grumbled. “Don’t even start, because I’m way ahead of you in the WTF department.”

  Jordan wasn’t looking at Will, who was standing behind her in the doorway to her bedroom; she was too busy going through all her clothes, looking for the warmest items. She didn’t have much, but she wasn’t about to drop major coin she didn’t have to buy gear at the hunting store in the strip mall outside of town. Besides, camo was so not her color.

  “But . . . why?”

  “I don’t know!” she exclaimed, throwing sweatshirts around, tossing the heaviest ones onto the bed and stuffing the others back into the bureau drawer. “Ask your sister-in-law. I was fine with the stuff we’ve been doing with the girls—the arcade, laser tag, even bowling. Don’t get me started on wearing shoes steeped in other people’s sweat, but I was willing to put up with that stuff. This outdoorsy crap . . . not so much.”

  “Do these girls even know how to hike?”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Or camp?”

  “There’s a cabin.”

  “Even so. It’s January.”

  “Right? But Summer’s calling it ‘the perfect bonding experience.’ Well, yeah, if we all freeze to death in one giant ice block. Hasn’t she read Krakauer’s Into the Wild, for chrissakes? Three days . . . she’s gotta be kidding. At least I talked her out of going so deep into the wilderness preserve there wouldn’t be cell reception. I mean, come on—that’s just barbaric.”

  Jordan tossed some boots onto the pile on the bed; Will removed them. “You are not wearing these on a winter hike.”
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  “They’re all I’ve got.”

  “They’re fine for tromping through town. Anything more taxing than that, your feet will freeze in the first quarter mile. I’ll find something more appropriate for you.”

  “Or you could talk your sister-in-law out of this whole thing.”

  “Have you met Summer?”

  “Yeah, okay, she’s pretty determined. Which is why you need to help me talk her out of it.”

  “How about I get her to compromise—a day hike or something?”

  Jordan stopped rooting around in her sparse wardrobe and crossed to the smart, sensible, supportive, and impossibly sexy guy in her doorway. “You are a genius.” Grabbing his uniform shirt in both fists, she pulled him close and growled, “Drop the boots.”

  With a wicked grin, Will stretched his arm sideways and let go of her footwear. The boots landed on the wooden floor with one clunk after another, and he pushed her down on the bed, among her piles of clothes.

  “You know,” Jordan murmured against his lips as she started unbuttoning his shirt, “it’s too bad you’re not coming along on this camping trip.”

  “Want me to keep you warm, huh?” Will said, breathing heavily from struggling to help her get his shirt off . . . or in reaction to Jordan kissing the underside of his jaw as she pulled the shirttails out of his waistband. Maybe a little of both. More of the latter, she hoped.

  “You are very good at it,” she said, taking a moment to draw her tongue down his neck.

  “Just warm, though?”

  “Now that you mention it, I’ll take hot.”

  “Good choice.” He kissed her deeply, bracing himself with his arms on either side of her. Paused, rummaged around on her left. Came back to kiss her again, tugged at something near her shoulder. “Take this off.”

  “It’s not on.”

  “What?”

  “Whatever you’re groping? It’s not me.”

  He drew back to pull a purple shirt out from under her. “How many clothes did you bring with you?”

  Jordan growled. “Are you going to critique my wardrobe, or are you going to step up, here? I’m going to disappear into the wilderness soon, possibly never to return.”