by V. K. Powell
In the elevator, she dialed Tyler’s cell and waited for him to answer. “Hey, bro. What’s happening?”
“Damn, I thought you fell off the face of the earth.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “It’s good to hear from you, sis. I know it’s only been a little while, but it seems longer.”
His uncharacteristic emotions surprised her. “Uh, thanks. Thought I better let you know I was still alive and still in Greensboro. I’ve got the same cell number, so save it to your phone…but don’t use it unless you have to, for a while.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, got some things to take care of.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
His offer sounded genuine. Had she been too hard on him? “Not right now, but I’ll keep in touch.”
“Good. The boys are asking about you already, and I don’t like not hearing from you—plus, my body’s going to hell without our workouts. I bet you’re getting pretty flabby too. Admit it.” He laughed, returning to their old repartee.
“Look, Ty, if you hear anything…about me or the gunrunner case, let me know.”
“I’ll keep my ears open. Whatever you’re doing, just be careful.”
“I will. Tell the boys I’ll see them soon.” She missed Tyler’s three rambunctious children. They always kept things real, saying whatever was on their mind without editing. She envied kids that freedom before socialization took over. “Check you later.” She didn’t wait for his good-bye. Tyler had been much more supportive and understanding. Maybe after this was over, they’d have a chance to really connect. But that would have to wait.
As she walked toward her Jeep, she thought about leaving her family home and living in the downtown high-rise. She’d always wanted to try it, but now the experience seemed hollow. The thought of walks along the greenway or attending cultural events made her ache with the loneliness of doing those things alone. Life should be shared, but she’d lost the desire to do so. Instead of enjoying the vitality of downtown with family, friends, and a lover, she planned to isolate, blend into the crowd, maybe even go underground a bit, and observe. Nothing seemed to carry the same promise or significance without Abby.
*
Two hours later Loane parked her old Jeep behind the historical museum to walk back to Center Pointe. Everything she needed was in her backpack and a small gym bag. Funny how compact and portable life became when necessary. She zigzagged between the buildings, enjoying the slightly cooler temperature and the more tranquil pace of the city at night.
As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she heard fast-approaching footsteps behind her. Adrenaline kicked in—her heart pounded and breathing quickened. Her cop senses tingled as she prepared to fight. When she turned, a figure in dark clothing and a hoodie darted out of the shadows, snatched her gym bag, and ran toward the Bellemeade Street parking deck.
“Hey, what the—come back with that.” Damn it. She’d been distracted by her leisurely stroll, not paying attention. She ran after him, but her backpack slapped against her hips, slowing her down. The thief was getting away. If she didn’t chase him, maybe he wouldn’t run. She stopped and listened. His footsteps echoed through the garage, running and then slowing to a walk. She followed the sound, careful not to make any noise. Rounding the corner of the garage, she heard heavy breathing behind a half wall separating two levels.
She inhaled deeply to steady her heart rate and crept closer. Pulling her Walther PPK .380 from her waistband, she stepped from behind the wall and pointed her weapon at the culprit. “Freeze. Police.”
Huge green eyes against a blanched face stared up at her from underneath the hoodie. “Really? You guys still say that crap?”
“Vi, is that you?”
“’Course it’s me. Took you long enough.” She nodded toward the gun still pointed at her chest. “Put that thing away before you hurt somebody, like me.”
Loane wanted to snatch her by the collar and shake her until her row of silver earrings fell like coins to the pavement. She could’ve gotten herself killed. Instead, Loane reholstered and grabbed her gym bag from between Vi’s outstretched legs. “What the hell are you doing snatching my stuff?”
“Taking you to school.”
“What?” Loane was irritated that she’d allowed a street urchin to sneak up on her. She hadn’t been expecting anything to happen, and that’s when things always did. Like the night of the explosion. When would she learn not to let her guard down?
“That cop training doesn’t mean crap in the real world. I proved you need me.”
“Like hell I do.” She wasn’t about to admit she needed anyone, especially a kid whose only degree was in street life. Vi was wearing the same clothes she’d had on the first time they met, and her attitude definitely hadn’t improved. She scolded herself for not checking Vi out sooner. She might have a criminal record already. “I ought to take your ass in for theft.”
“Can’t. You’re not a cop at the mo, are you?”
“Where do you get your information?” She recalled her last run-in with Vi. She definitely hadn’t volunteered anything about her leave of absence. Either she was a plant or she had some pretty good sources.
“Be surprised what cops talk about while having a smoke, taking a piss, or eating donuts and drinking coffee.”
“And how do you get these pearls of wisdom?”
“I listen. Street grapevine, hundred times more reliable than cops.” Vi got up from the garage floor and hiked a seat on top of the half wall. “Impressive, huh?”
“Depends. What else did you hear?” For the first time since they’d met, Vi seemed reluctant to speak. “Go on. I have to know if your sources are reliable.”
“You were working a case and some people ended up dead in an explosion.”
Loane wasn’t ready for that one. The statement registered like blows to the chest over and over again…ended up dead, ended up dead. She grabbed the concrete wall to steady herself. It shouldn’t be so hard to hear the words out loud again, but they always took her off guard. The two things didn’t belong together—Abby and death.
“Sorry, dude.” Vi looked at the ground as if allowing Loane time to regroup. “It’s not like you went all Lizzie Borden on your parents.”
She had Vi’s sweatshirt clutched in her fists and was inches from her face before she realized it. Vi showed no fear; instead her innocent grin stopped Loane cold as she realized the girl was trying to make a joke. “You’re crazy.”
“You needed to lighten up,” Vi said.
“You’re lucky I didn’t snap your head off.” She’d taken quite a chance on Loane’s reaction. Maybe this kid was smarter than she looked. She released Vi’s shirt and stepped back, the emotional ebb leaving her weak. It wasn’t like her to lose control so easily, but her nerves had been on edge for months, lapses were bound to occur. “Sorry…I overreacted.”
“You think?” Vi was still smiling. “It’s a tough break. You’re allowed to get pissed, hit shit, and take it out on people. Teenagers don’t have the market on that.”
“Actually, it’s not allowed. I’m a cop. I’m supposed to take everything in stride.” Loane gave her the once-over and settled against the wall beside her. “You’re not just another pretty face, are you, ki—Vi?”
“Nope, and I never lie.”
Shaking her head in disbelief, Loane said with all the certainty of her life’s experience, “Everybody lies.”
“Not me. If you take me on, I’ll be your intel source, not to mention gossipmonger.”
She couldn’t figure out why Vi wanted to hook up with an out-of-work cop hell-bent on starting trouble with criminals and the police. “You don’t even know my plan.”
“Duh—that’s a no-brainer. You want to find out who caused the big boom and why.”
“Not exactly.” Uncanny, this kid’s ability to read her. It was disturbingly reminiscent of how easily Abby had become a part of her life. “But close enough. What do you want from me? I don’t have any mo
ney, so I can’t pay you. I’m too screwed up and too old to be your friend.”
“I want to help.”
“Nobody does something for nothing.”
“Is that even proper English?” Vi grinned again, her teeth only slightly whiter than her colorless complexion.
“Look who’s talking about proper English. If you want to hang out with me, you have to tell me why.”
“I can’t spill my guts. Trust has to be earned, dude.”
“And I should trust you because you say so? Not likely.”
“Let me count the reasons.” Vi held up her closed fist and raised fingers as she talked. “Saved your ass from two goons the other night. Snatched your bag and didn’t rip you off. Told you where I get my info. I can help you fit in on the street. And I’m getting a gig at the Sky Bar as soon as the new manager arrives. ’Nuff said?”
The last comment caught Loane’s attention. “What new manager?”
“Am I in? If not, no more free info.”
No way she would trust Vi with this case, but she could use her for information. It would be helpful to have someone on the inside in case she didn’t make it. Vi couldn’t get hurt just watching and reporting. Abby did. The thought was sobering. “Tell me about the manager.”
Vi shoulder-bumped her. “Word is that Carl Torre is taking over Simon’s businesses and bringing in a new manager. When that person is in place, I’m getting a job. Need the cash.”
The offer was almost too good to be true, if it wasn’t for the fact that three people associated with the Torre businesses had already been killed. Maybe it was too risky no matter what the circumstances. She couldn’t be responsible for placing anyone else in danger. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Hey, you can’t stop me. I’m of age. If they’ll hire me, I can work anywhere I want. If you don’t want my help, that’s on you.”
Vi was almost as stubborn and independent as she was, but she admired her determination. “Do whatever you want. I’m not asking for help.”
“I get that, hard-ass. You can do it all yourself. Right?”
“Stay out of trouble. I don’t exactly have access to backup or unlimited police resources anymore. Do your job, watch, and listen. What is your job, by the way?”
“I can do anything—a Vi of all trades.”
“If you say so.” The nonstop chitchat had exhausted her. If it went this way every time they talked, she’d never have the need for internal dialogue again. “Do you have a place to go? A home?”
“Don’t use it much, but I have one. Too much shit happening all the time to sleep.”
Loane hefted her backpack and gym bag and turned to leave.
“Hey, what about the fitting-in part? You need some serious help,” Vi said.
“Later. I’m older and I need rest. How will I get in touch with you?”
“Don’t worry, dude. I’ll find you soon for your makeover.”
“What makeover?” When she turned around, Vi was already gone. Weird. The girl was plain weird. What had she gotten herself into? She hated to admit it, but having a street-savvy kid on her side wasn’t an entirely unpleasant thought. As long as Vi didn’t get hurt and Loane didn’t let her guard down, she’d be fine.
Chapter Eight
Abby slowed the old U-Haul truck and coasted into the service plaza off I-95 North. Saying good-bye to Stefan, Maria, Blake, and Nick had been more difficult than she imagined. It was hard to leave behind the flesh-and-blood reminder of the most significant thing she’d ever done. She’d been on the road almost six hours since leaving Miami. Between traffic, pit stops, outbursts of emotion, and a temperamental vehicle, she was lucky to have gotten this far.
In less than half an hour, her parents would be here. They’d been visiting relatives in Daytona Beach when she called, which made a meet-up on the interstate easy for everyone. Her conscience wouldn’t let her leave Florida without reassuring them she was okay. And she needed to reconnect, if only for a few minutes, with the touchstone of her life—her family’s unconditional love.
She parked the truck on the back row between two tractor-trailers, unwilling to explain to her family why she was driving such a cumbersome vehicle. It would only lead to more questions she couldn’t answer. She hurried into the fast-food restaurant, picked up a variety of items, and settled at a picnic area under the trees just in time. Her parents’ silver Cadillac pulled up, and before it came to a complete stop, her three brothers—Bobby Junior, Carter, and Will—bailed out of the backseat.
They ran toward her like the children they used to be. She thought about holding back, uncertain if they’d notice how she favored her right leg, still stiff from the recently removed cast. She also wanted to show them that she wasn’t the same little girl who once needed their protection, but her heart was so full she ran and hurled herself into the midst of them, knowing they would catch her. They fell to the ground, poking and jabbing at each other like kids on a playground.
“Stop this.” Her father teased them as he exited the vehicle. “You’re grownups.”
“In body only,” her mother said.
The boys pulled her from the ground and presented her like a gift to their parents. They looked as if they’d aged years since she’d seen them. Her father’s thick black hair was peppered with gray, his forehead more deeply wrinkled. Her mother’s face appeared unchanged, but her eyes had lost some of their characteristic sparkle. Abby feared she’d caused the subtle changes.
She hugged her mother and inhaled the familiar scent of her lilac perfume mingled with the smell of baking. The fragrance reminded her of childhood when life was simple and parents could solve any problem with love and a loaf of fresh-baked bread.
Her father waited patiently, and when he delicately turned her into his arms, she almost broke down. His hulking six-foot frame belied the gentleness of a sensitive man. She smiled when he nuzzled her neck and his beard stubble scratched her skin. He always complained that the electric razor his wife insisted he use never did the job as well as a real razor. She was so caught up in the reunion that she forgot why they were meeting halfway between Miami and Daytona Beach at a rest stop.
She stepped back, pointed at her brothers and the food she’d bought, and shrugged. “You’re on your own. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“How could we not come?” Bobby said. “Go get us some burgers, Will, and don’t forget the fries. I’m starving.” He gave Will a handful of money. The youngest always got fetching duty but never complained because he kept the change for carrying charges.
Carter draped his arm across her shoulder and added, “You’re lucky Mama and Papa didn’t invite the whole neighborhood.”
“Thank you” was all she could say.
They gathered around the picnic table and ate, telling stories about relatives and friends but avoiding the real subject for almost two hours. Her parents were too respectful of her privacy to intrude.
That had never been an issue for the boys. When the conversation lulled, Bobby went for the hot topic. “So, where have you been, what are you doing, and, most important, when are you coming home?” Everybody stared and she could feel the answers being urged from her. “At our last family gathering, you said you’d gotten a job and would be away a lot—understatement. We’ve hardly seen you in eighteen months. What gives?”
“It’s complicated.”
Will said, “Try us. We’ll keep up.”
“We don’t mean to pry.” Her mother was always afraid of offending. “We’re worried.”
Abby recognized the look on their faces. She’d seen it growing up—concern mixed with an overdose of protectiveness. That expression and the well-meaning, but suffocating, attentiveness had driven Abby to move almost completely out of her family’s sphere of influence. She’d chosen a difficult course, but now she had to see it through.
She worded her statements carefully enough to convey reassurance without offending and without saying anything. “I can’t give
you details because I’ve signed a confidentiality agreement. I work for a company with interests around the world, so I travel a lot. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more right now, maybe in the future. But I’m fine, as you can see.”
“We miss you, baby,” her father said.
And that was part of the problem. Her parents still thought of her as their baby, and her brothers still felt like her protectors. “I know, Papa. We’ll get together properly very soon. I promise. But I have to go now.”
“What are you doing on I-95?” Bobby asked.
“I’m driving back up north on business.”
“Are you dating anyone?” Will elbowed her and winked. “We can’t wait to meet whoever she is.”
Abby stifled the urge to surrender emotionally and throw herself into the comfort of her family’s love. She cherished how they accepted her sexuality and encouraged her to settle down with a “nice” girl. But right now she couldn’t find an answer that covered all the emotions Will’s question evoked.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” he asked.
“No, it’s this job…” She let them fill in the blank. If she didn’t have time for family, certainly she wouldn’t have time to date. They’d understand that. She stood, hoping they’d follow her lead, but no one did. She’d told them everything she could. “I have to leave. Let me give you my new cell number.”
As she reached for her jacket, the phone in her pants pocket vibrated—the Torre work phone. “Hello?”
“Abby, what’s wrong? Did you run into trouble?”
“Who is this?” She knew it was Carl, but she needed a few extra seconds to decide how she’d answer his questions with her family standing around her.
“It’s Carl. You’ve been stationary for over two hours.”
“How do you know that?”
“GPS tracking. I have it on all my vehicles as a safety precaution.”
Sometimes she hated technology. “I’d driven for six hours and wanted to rest a bit. No problems. I’ll be back on the road shortly.”
“Wait where you are. I have a couple of guys on another job in the area with the chopper. They can be there in about thirty minutes. I want to be sure you’re okay.”
