Warrior Without a Cause

by Nancy Gideon

  "And your husband was unfinished business?"

  "Maybe. Who knows how a man like that thinks."

  Jack would know, Tessa guessed. He'd understand a man like Chet just fine.

  "What was Chet Allen doing at an upscale fund-raiser?" he mused out loud.

  "He was there to meet with Martinez, I think. One of her aides had come to pull her aside. She met with Chet in a back hallway. They argued. I don't think Chet was supposed to be there. They were very careful not to be seen together in public."

  "Did they see you?"

  "No. I was on the way to the powder room. I'd gotten a terrible headache and was looking for a quiet place to take something my doctor prescribed. I didn't want headlines to read 'D.A.'s Widow Caught Popping Pills At Society Party.' Those people still follow me. I don't know why. I'm no story."

  Jack glanced at Tessa. Yes, she was, his steady gaze told her.

  "Anyway, I'd slipped outside to go around back to the kitchen area. I was just about to come in when I saw the two of them. I couldn't hear what they were saying with the door shut and I didn't want to risk drawing attention to myself. I hurried back to the party. And that's when I called you, Mr. Chaney."

  "You did the right thing."

  Barbara didn't think so. She sighed heavily. "If I'd been smarter or braver, I would have found a way to listen in and see what they were up to. Tess would have found a way. She's always been so resourceful."

  Tessa didn't respond to the admiring statement. Her thoughts were spinning.

  Chet Allen, ex-Green Beret. Death on wheels. Capable of entering the fourteenth floor of a high-rise without being discovered, without leaving a trace, to kill the man who had forced him to go underground. Allen, a man involved in drug trafficking. But had revenge motivated him or was it something else? Something that linked him, a supposed dead man, to an influential councilwoman about to run for a higher government office? If she heard Allen's voice, would she recognize it from her nightmares?

  "I ran a quick check on Allen," Stan was saying. "He doesn't exist."

  Tessa looked to him for clarification. "You mean, he's dead?"

  "No, I mean all traces of him are gone. Like he was never alive. His service record has vanished. There's no mention of his enlistment or his death."

  "Mr. Allen obviously found other, more lucrative, employment," Jack surmised.

  "How can we find someone who doesn't exist?" Tessa felt her frustration level begin to rise. Another dead end? All this and another dead end?

  "I know a guy who knows a guy…" Jack began with a casual vagueness.

  "Guys in the same type of employment?" Tessa pressed, hopes daring to notch up just a little.

  Jack was resourceful, too.

  "Let's just say they don't get W-2s. I'll see what he can find out about our buddy Allen and maybe get a line on who's pulling his strings. Allen wouldn't risk exposure for a personal vendetta. It might have been a perk but I doubt it was the only thing on his agenda."

  "Martinez?" Barbara ventured. "Could they have met when she was doing humanitarian work?"

  "We have to prove it," Tessa concluded. It all came down to proof. "I think it's time we confronted Councilwoman Martinez."

  "No."

  Jack's response was flat and inflexible.

  "Why not? If we squeeze her enough—"

  "She'll have us charged with harassment. And she'll know we know. She's not going to tell us anything because she's up to her eyeballs in this mess. If Allen goes down, she goes down and she's not about to take a fall after all the risks she's taken already. If you confront her, you're just going to give away our suspicions prematurely. If she thinks you know too much, she'll step up her efforts to get to you. And a man like Allen can get just about any place he wants."

  "I ought you said I was safe with you." She was angry enough at the roadblock he'd just thrown in her path to lace that comment with sarcasm.

  "Only if you don't paint a bull's-eye on your back and dance around in his sniper sites."

  "Tess, please listen to Mr. Chaney," her mother urged with a quiet anxiousness. "Don't rush into anything that might get you hurt."

  Tessa rounded on her like a cyclone. "I've been hurt. And I've been afraid and I'm tired of being those things. I'm tired of letting Martinez and your friend Allen make me those things. And unless someone puts a stop to them, they're just going to continue doing it to whoever gets in their way. My father gave his life trying to stop them."

  "And now he's dead." Barbara summed it up that simply. And for her, it probably was just that simple. She didn't care about justice or duty. She didn't want the luxury liner of her life rocked. Poor spoiled Barbara D'Angelo with no one to keep her on her pedestal.

  "For a cause." For Tessa, that was the only argument necessary.

  "Causes get people killed." Jack concluded. "And you know what, there's always another cause and someone else to take it up. There'll always be more causes and none are worth dying for."

  "That's a coward's claim."

  Jack shrugged, unaffected by her scorn. "I'm not ashamed of it. You're dealing with a powerful woman, and men or women with power get dangerous when they get desperate. You're no match for those without conscience."

  "You mean, like you?" She flung the words like a dagger.

  "Yeah," he agreed somberly. "Like me."

  Stan cleared his throat, growing uneasy with the heated exchange. "Tess, Jack's right. It takes time to make a good case. Your father taught me that. If we rush in unprepared, it'll give her time to hide her secrets deeper, maybe where we can never find them. If we creep around, not like cowards but like clever little mice—" he winked at Jack "—who knows what we can uncover before she gets wise. Right now, she thinks you're a nuisance. Don't make her think you're a threat."

  "Tess," her mother said softly. "Rachel Martinez isn't going anywhere."

  "And neither is my father."

  Barbara looked away, wounded by the attack.

  "Fine." Tessa threw up her hands. She couldn't fight them all and they were determined to be conservative to the hilt, while Ms. Martinez continued living her high life and smiling benevolently on her TV ads. "We'll be quiet little rodents scurrying around in the dark."

  "Being very careful not to leave little reminders of where we've been," Stan added with a grin. "This little mouse found out a juicy tidbit this morning from the coroner's office."

  Tessa's attention sharpened. "About Johnnie O'?"

  "It seems our eager witness wouldn't have had a very lengthy future even if he hadn't taken a long drop on a short rope."

  "What do you mean?"

  "O'Casey had AIDS. Full-blown. He played with a lot of needles and finally got stuck. He was dying even as someone killed him."

  Tessa processed this and was quick to find another missing piece. "His child. His girlfriend was pregnant."

  "And HIV-positive, too. She gave birth to a baby boy with his father's eyes and his father's deadly disease."

  A crushing sorrow for the innocent baby derailed Tessa's express train of suppositions. But Jack was there to hop on board.

  "And where is the baby now?"

  "Funny, the kid was born to an HIV-positive crack mother turning tricks on the street and suddenly he's in some exclusive care center getting every break available."

  "And who's footing the bill?" Jack wanted to know.

  "Daddy," Tessa stated. "Daddy made a deal to give his child a chance to survive. That's why Johnnie O' was willing to go down for the count. It didn't matter what they did to him. He was dead anyway. What mattered was the baby. Who would have thought O'Casey had a heart."

  "Stan, find out where the money came from."

  "It's from a private charity organization. They wouldn't give me any names."

  "Maybe I could get them for you."

  They all looked to Barbara in surprise. She met their incredulous expressions with one of cool competency. "I've served on just about every charity board in town.
Could be I know a guy who knows a guy.

  Silence. Then Jack chuckled. "That's how it works." He stood. "We've been here too long. Mrs. D'Angelo—"

  "Barbara."

  "Barbara, you keep trying to find what it was your husband was looking for and what he was trying to hide. I'll bet my gold crown it has something to do with Allen over in those China White jungles."

  "I'll keep looking … Jack."

  "I've got to go see a guy about a guy."

  As they started for the door, Barbara stepped close to tentatively touch her daughter's arm. Tessa bristled but she didn't pull away.

  "Tess, don't be a hero. Doing things the right way doesn't mean everything goes your way."

  A ghost of a smile sketched across Tessa's lips. "Dad used to say that."

  "He was right. He was right about a lot of things. He said you were a firecracker under a bucket, that when something set you off, the explosion would take everyone by surprise. Your father was like that, too. Calm, collected, then boom when you least expected it, when it mattered the most."

  Tessa's brow furrowed. That wasn't like her father at all.

  "He would be so proud of what you're doing. Just make sure you're doing it for the right reasons." And while her daughter stood, defenses down, her eyes misting with emotion, Barbara hugged her into a perfumed yet strong embrace. "Please be careful."

  Tessa put her hands on her mother's arms, surprised to feel strength instead of the expected weakness. Gently she pushed away. "I will."

  Barbara allowed herself to be levered to an impersonal distance. Her expression grew poignant and bittersweet. Then she glanced toward Jack where he and Stan were talking in the doorway. "Listen to him, Tess. He's a smart man. Stan trusts him and so do I. He's got your best interests at heart."

  Tessa was going to refute that when she caught her mother's speculative smile. Barbara thought she and Jack… She thought they were…

  "Mother, there's nothing between me and Jack." Unfortunately.

  "Yet."

  * * *

  They left the house in Barbara's Mercedes. Its tinted windows gave no clue as to who was inside. If the house was being watched, they would assume it was Barbara leaving for one of her many functions. To keep up that pretense, Jack drove the smooth-handling vehicle, slowly, casually, taking them into the shopping district where the trendy salons and uniquely expensive designers Barbara patronized were located. Jack pulled into a parking garage, into a space and cut the engine. They waited, Jack watching, Tessa wound tight. Long minutes passed. Tessa didn't speak. She was still angry with him for his failure to back up her suggestions. And she was still mulling over her mother's insinuations.

  Yet.

  "Down."

  "What?"

  Jack gripped her by the shoulders and pulled her toward him until her face was in his lap. He layered his body over the top of hers in an uncomfortable press. Then she understood. Anyone driving by would think the vehicle was empty.

  The sound of the idling engine of some large luxury gas hog puffed by. Perhaps some blue-haired matron looking for the perfect parking spot. Perhaps not. Perhaps some big sedan with a crumpled left fender. With her head wedged between the steering wheel and Jack's amazingly hard abs, she couldn't see what was going on outside the vehicle. But even though neither of them moved, plenty was going on inside it.

  She could feel the steady rock of Jack's breathing and the weight of his hand where it hit her leg just below the hem of her skirt. She'd dressed up for this meeting at her mother's. Always wanting to look her best in case someone was making comparisons. He rested his hand on her thigh in a light cuff, neutral and nonthreatening. Until his thumb briefly stroked along the underside of her knee. Being ticklish, it took all her willpower not to leap off the seat at that feather-like caress. Being a woman, her pulse leaped into a level of high alert. And once in that state of readiness, her senses filled with an awareness of him.

  She wanted him. The tension of the moment only made that inappropriate desire sharper. Right here, right now, in the plush interior of her mother's car, in a parking garage where they could be discovered at any second by startled upscale shoppers or by carefully trained killers. Her breathing shivered at the thought of them, naked on the soft, beige-leather front seat, fogging up the windows like a pair of kids necking at the drive-in. If Jack thought her cleaning a gun was a turn-on, thrashing around a gearshift with him had her motor running.

  Too soon, he straightened and coaxed her wordlessly to do the same. While she tried to rein in her respirations, he coaxed the engine to life and made a turn out of the space.

  "You're going the wrong way, Jack."

  "No doubt about it," was his rather raspy reply.

  He guided them quickly down the twists and turns of the garage, around alarmed motorists who thankfully didn't have time to sound their horns and give them away. He pulled up to the ticket booth where the attendant met him with a scowl.

  "Can't you follow the signs, buddy?"

  Jack grinned as he passed over the correct change. "Sorry. Got a little distracted."

  The pimply faced attendant leaned down to get a look at Tessa, who was trying to smooth down her hair and her skirt at the same time. The kid had the audacity to smirk and nod in wistful understanding.

  "You fed his geek fantasies for the next few nights," Tessa mumbled as they merged into traffic.

  "It was my pleasure." His tone was all husky inference, but the gaze fixed on the rearview was all business. After a few blocks, he relaxed. "Looks like we gave them the slip." He glanced at her, just a quick sexy aside. "And speaking of slips, how come you're not wearing one, a nice professional woman like you?"

  "I didn't exactly pack business lingerie with my sweat suits."

  "Too bad."

  And that got her running on high octane for the rest of their silent drive.

  They exchanged the sleek Mercedes for Jack's battered truck outside one of Barbara's favorite restaurants. Stan would bring Barbara to pick it up later that afternoon. This time, as he drove, Tessa paid extra attention to where they were going, in case she had reason to find her way back here again. When they pulled up the gravel drive, she was puzzled by the strange sense of coming home that was as unwarranted as it was unlikely. She was just passing through. There was no permanence for her here.

  Jack had made that abundantly clear.

  He helped her down from the high seat then immediately disappeared into the house. To see a guy about a guy. Leaving her to approach more slowly, alone.

  Constanza had prepared a light salad lunch that she shared with an unusually sedate Rose in the kitchen. Tessa was grateful for the silence. Her mind was turning full-tilt, veering away from the confusing sexual pull she felt for Chaney to the information they uncovered at her mother's.

  On the day that he died, her father had been on his way to court. She'd been at her desk finishing up a stack of witness subpoenas. He'd stopped there, waiting until she'd lifted her head in question. For the longest time, he'd said nothing. He'd just stared at her through eyes so somber and … and sad that she'd been alarmed.

  "Tessie, we need to talk."

  He hadn't called her Tessie since grade school.

  "Sure."

  "I'm late for court. How about this afternoon?"

  "Okay. What's up?" His oddly anxious mood had had her own prickling with dread. His discomfort had been so unusual that she couldn't help but be concerned.

  "I need to talk to you, Tessa. There're some things I have to tell you. I've put it off for far too long."

  "About one of our cases?" But she had known that it wasn't. It was something else. Something bigger.

  He'd glanced at his Rolex and looked relieved. "I don't have time right now but I'll call you when I get a break this afternoon. It's important, Tess."

  "Okay. I'll make sure I'm free."

  But his call had never come. The matter went to trial and the afternoon went by with no word from him. They'd nev
er had their talk. She'd never know what was so important. Quite frankly, she'd forgotten about the conversation in the tragedy that had followed. Until now. Until she had a reason to rethink his intentions.

  Chet Allen was her father's service buddy. Friends for life. One of the Three Musketeers, her mother had said. They'd shared everything and kept no secrets from one another. No secrets.

  Had her father known Allen was still trafficking drugs in Asia? Was that why Allen killed him? Worse, had they been working together to blackmail Martinez over her involvement? That would explain the money in her father's account.

  Had her father taken hush money to back off his investigation? Had he needed the money that badly to front his political campaign and to spoil his wife with more extravagant tokens of his esteem? Pain and envy had Tessa considering the unthinkable, the intolerable.

  What if the last important thing he'd meant to tell her had been a confession?

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  She'd just turned away from a spectacular fading sun as it dipped behind the treetops when she saw a man standing outside the living room window.

  Jack had never reappeared after lunch, so left to her own devices, Tessa had picked a book from the library. In desperate need of some distraction, she'd discovered a cozy nook glassed in on two sides overlooking the porch. It was of a smaller, more intimate scale than the fireplace room, with a conversation area made up of an overstuffed white-linen sofa and several chairs of woven leather and brown corduroy surrounding a low, copper-topped table. Supporting the planked ceiling were peeled tree trunks spaced at intervals along the glass wall to give the impression of being lost in a forest. The view of the winding creek and low stone wall running down to it made a pictorial vista inviting rest and ease. Stretched out on the couch with chapter one, before she knew it, the afternoon was gone.

  She never heard a sound. Some instinct had her glancing over the back of the couch to be momentarily blinded by the glare of the sun. Then there he was, standing an arm's length away with just the glass to separate them.