The slap of cool evening air felt good against her cheeks. The sun hadn’t gone down yet, but streetlights lent a glow to the sidewalks, golden as the changing aspen leaves.
She took a deep breath and started winding along back streets toward the McDonald’s where she’d left Nick and Jason. She tried not to dwell on Seth. She’d been stupid to think she could rely on his help. She was even more stupid to feel so betrayed now. She’d known he was eyeing a run for district attorney. Why she thought truth and justice would come before politics, she had no idea.
A shiver rippled up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder.
Two men walked twenty feet behind her. Dressed in sloppy jeans, hoods pulled over their heads and hands stuffed in pockets, she couldn’t see their faces. Worse yet, she couldn’t see their hands. But she could read their body language just fine.
She wasn’t sure how long they’d been behind her. If she hadn’t been so rattled, she probably would have noticed them right away. They weren’t trying for stealth. No, their goal was intimidation.
She tried to calm her breathing. More than anything, she wanted to break into a run. But she kept her pace steady and listened for any change coming from behind. She brought her hand to her hip, her fingers touching nothing but denim.
What a time to lose her gun.
Just ahead the side street came to a T. She turned to the right, away from the McDonald’s, away from Nick and Jason. If these two were the men from last night, the last thing she wanted was to lead them straight to their prey.
“Hey.”
She flinched at the sound of the voice.
“Why are you railroading José?”
The question was faint, barely audible above the traffic sounds coming from two streets over and wisps of theme music from a television show drifting from a window above. But it was obviously directed at her.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. She scanned the street. Mostly residential, there was no place she could run for help, not unless she wanted to drag an innocent resident into this mess. Of course even reaching a main thoroughfare wouldn’t necessarily protect her. It hadn’t helped Jimmy or Essie. The Latin Devils had taken them out right in broad daylight.
She slipped her hand into her purse and groped for her phone. Her fingers brushed wallet and sunglasses and lipstick. Had she left her phone in the truck?
“José, he didn’t have nothing to do with that bitch dying. Nothing. Who are you covering up for?”
Melissa kept digging. The phone had to be here somewhere. It had to be. She took the next right and increased her pace.
“You running away from us? You can’t run away.” Their voices sounded closer, as if they too were walking faster, as if they were closing in. “You listening? You better listen, or we’ll find other ways to show you we mean business.”
“Lot of ways,” said another voice.
Melissa could hear the shuffle of rubber soles against concrete. Close behind. Too close. Her fingers closed over the phone’s squarish shape.
She needed to buy some time. Even if by some miracle she could get a call off to 911, it would take time for them to find her location. More time for a patrol car to arrive.
Melissa slowed her steps, then stopped and turned to face them. She left her hand in her bag, groping its edge… finding the on button… the telephone app.
The men stopped just five feet away, close enough for her to see their faces..
Were these the men who’d killed Jimmy? Who’d tried to kill Nick and Jason and her at the Circle J? She swept them with her eyes, trying to absorb every detail about them she could.
Hispanic males, both in their late teens to early twenties. Average height. Gang tats visible on their temples, cheeks and neck. Hands still in pockets, they stared at her in a way that was both wary and threatening. “The cops are lying. Jose didn’t do nothing. You tell the DA that.”
Melissa smoothed over the phone’s touchscreen, trying to approximate the numbers with her fingertips. She never thought she’d miss her old phone, but the number pad would come in handy right now.
She guessed the location of the nine, tapped the screen, then took a shot at the one and pressed it twice. “I just want to find the truth. That’s all.”
The larger of the two stepped toward her. Apparently comfortable enough to give up the wary and let the threatening take over his full focus. “You want the truth, you listen. The cops are lying.”
“Is that why you shot the detective? Because he was lying?”
“Detective?” The shorter one’s voice cracked, apparently still struggling with puberty. “We didn’t shoot no detective.”
“Someone in the Latin Devils did.”
The bigger one shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Somewhere a siren screamed.
She resisted the need to look over her shoulder. She guessed where Send would be on her phone screen and tapped that.
Nothing. No ring tone. No emergency operator picking up on the other end. The only plan she had didn’t work.
“I was there. When you or your gang mates or whoever it was opened fire. There were four of you in the car. Two are now dead.”
“You’re crazy, lady. Whatever you’re talking about, we had nothing to do with it.”
“You didn’t shoot Essie Castillo and Detective Bernard? The detective who arrested José Sanchez?”
“Hell no. But if you don’t back off our boy José, I’m sure as fuck going to mess you up.” The taller one pulled one hand from his pocket. With the flick of a wrist, the blade of a knife gleamed in the streetlight’s cold glow.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE FIRST THING NICK SAW when he rounded the street corner was the gleam of a blade. He brought his rifle to his shoulder.
“Put the knife away, boys,” he bellowed in a voice he reserved for cantankerous cattle and coyotes he caught skulking around his property.
The hoodlums spun around and stared at him. The one with the knife held it in front of him as if he thought he might be able to take Nick on.
“You really think that blade is going to help you here? Put it away.” He lined up the knife man in his sights. When he’d seen the two follow Melissa into the side street, Nick had debated whether or not carrying the rifle through city streets was a wise move. Melissa was armed. She would surely take control before things got out of hand. But when he saw the knife in the man’s fist and Melissa’s hands empty, he knew something was wrong. And he was mighty glad he’d taken the risk. “Put it away right now.”
The knife man folded his blade and stuffed his hand into his pocket.
“I want to see your hands. Both of you.”
Slowly they did as he ordered.
Nick looked past them, focusing on Melissa. “These are the guys?”
“You tell me.” She glanced over her shoulder.
A siren screamed, the sound growing closer.
The two gang members glanced at each other. Then as one, they ran for the closest alley.
Nick pulled his finger from the trigger guard and watched them go. He’d had enough shooting at people to last him eight lifetimes. He lowered the rifle.
Melissa headed straight for Nick. “What are you, crazy? Carrying a rifle down the street like that?”
“Where’s your gun?” Nick kept his eyes on the direction the two gang members had gone until he could no longer hear the smack of their sneakers on pavement.
“Were those the guys? The guys in the sedan? The ones who shot Jimmy and Essie?”
“No.” He didn’t have the slightest question in his mind. “What did they want?”
“You’re sure these two weren’t in that car?”
“I’m sure. What did they want?”
“I’ll fill you in later.”
“Now.”
“Where’s Jason?”
“He’s locked in the truck, watching a movie.” The little guy had run and climbed and slid until tired and c
ranky had taken him over. Desperate for quiet, Nick had taken him out to the truck, hoping a movie could lull him into a more quiet state. That’s when he’d spotted Melissa take her detour and head down the opposite street, two rough-looking teens following behind. He glanced back toward the truck. “I can see Jason from here.”
A siren screamed from somewhere nearby.
“We’d better get out of here.” Melissa headed for the truck.
“You called the cops?” Nick asked.
“Tried. Never connected. But them seeing you holding that rifle is going to bring attention we don’t need.”
“No open carry?”
“Not in Denver. No open car carry, either.”
He matched her hurried stride. “So the gang, what did they want?”
“They wanted to tell me José Sanchez is innocent.”
“And they pulled a knife to convince you? Seems like a bad move.”
“Their powers of persuasion were lacking.” A tremble behind her voice undercut the wryness of her humor and confidence of her stride.
“You believe them?”
“I don’t know what to believe.” Melissa grabbed the door handle on the passenger side.
The siren wailed louder, closer.
Nick dashed around to the driver’s side. If he wanted answers to his questions, he’d better hurry, because he sure wouldn’t get them from the police.
______
Jimmy’s cabin was about as fancy as the man himself. In other words, a dump. But even though Melissa had never been there before, it felt as familiar as an old friend’s voice.
The outside wasn’t a romantic vision of a rustic cabin constructed of rough-hewn lodgepole pine like Nick’s. Instead, it looked like it had been slapped together in a weekend, with plywood, duct tape, and more than a little prayer.
Nick gave the door a hard shove with one hip to convince it to open. Jason raced inside.
Picturing a rat infestation, or worse, Melissa quickly followed. The place was in order and housed no rodents that she could see. Probably thanks to Tammy’s cleaning skills or the strong odor of mothballs that hung in the air.
Nick stepped in behind, hauling the suitcases they’d packed back at the ranch and following with the boxes. Once that was done, he scanned the single bedroom, the bathroom that sported a heavy plastic curtain instead of a door and the hot plate balanced on the dorm refrigerator and smiled. “I like it.”
Melissa wasn’t sure what there was to like for a person with no emotional attachment to the place or the owner, especially a man with a perfectly picturesque ranch like the Circle J. But she liked that he’d voiced approval of the dump anyway, even if it didn’t make a lot of sense. “There’s firewood in here already. If you start a fire, I’ll spoon one of these casseroles into Tammy’s Crock-Pot.
“Deal.” He crossed to the little fireplace. Made of carefully laid stone, it was clearly the part of the cabin where Jimmy invested the most money and time. She remembered how many hours he’d spent building it stone by stone. She had no doubt that to Jimmy, this fireplace was as grand as Nick’s at the Circle J. And the way Nick stood in front of it, one leg cocked while he studied the rock and nodded approvingly… it would have made Jimmy proud.
Melissa tore her gaze from Nick and focused on the sad excuse for a kitchen. After all that had happened the past few hours, she was grateful to focus on something as normal and domestic as heating a casserole while her thoughts settled. She’d successfully fended off Nick’s questions about her meeting with Seth and the whereabouts of her gun on the drive up. As long as she stayed busy now, she could continue to do so.
And getting some distance from Nick, even if it was only across the painfully small room, was a bonus.
She needed to tell him all of it. She knew that. But something was holding her back, something beyond the very awake and alert four-year-old now jumping on one of the twin beds. And she suspected it had a lot to do with her sorting through her own thoughts and feelings first.
Melissa eyed the boxes Nick had set just inside the door. Now that she knew more about Calhoun’s theories, the first thing she needed to do was take another look at Gayle’s papers. Even the thought inspired a dread deep in her chest that she didn’t want to face.
So she focused on heating dinner, and he built a fire. Soon they were warm and fed and Jason’s eyelids were drooping over his big blue eyes.
Nick gestured to Melissa. “Want to tuck him in B-E-D?”
Melissa almost nodded but caught herself just in time. Nick was the boy’s parent. Not her. Enabling him to duck the hard work of forging a relationship with his son would do neither him nor Jason any favors. And it would be just the opportunity she needed to get a peek at those papers alone. “I think you should this time.”
“That doesn’t usually go over well.”
“You’re not keeping your mind on the outcome you want.” She gave him a smile that she hoped was reassuring. “Besides, you two need to get some of these things worked out.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
He strode into the living room and knelt down to where Jason was playing with his superhero action figures. “Hey, Buddy. Do you want to bring these guys into bed with you?”
Jason stuck out his little chin. “Don’t wanna go to bed.”
“It’s time. Now, do you want to bring your toys?”
“No.”
Nick glanced in Melissa’s direction. He got up and joined her next to the sink. “What am I doing wrong? It worked for you at the ranch.”
“Don’t wanna go to the ranch.”
Nick stilled, as if bracing himself against the blow.
“I hate the ranch. Don’t wanna go.”
Melissa dropped her voice to a low whisper. “He knows that bothers you. That’s all.”
Nick focused on the little boy. He scooped him up and carried him to the little bedroom. He closed the door behind him, its paper like thickness blocking little of Jason’s mutiny scream.
Melissa pulled in a shaky breath and propped the box with Gayle’s papers on one hip. Toting it to the old couch near the fireplace, she lowered herself onto a seat that hollowed out like a bucket beneath her and set the box between her knees. Nick had his challenges, she had hers.
She picked a folder out of the box and began sorting through the papers one more time. Soon Jason’s protests stopped and she heard the low hum of Nick reading him a story. She flipped through one folder after the next. She had just located the file of charge card bills when Nick came back in the room.
“I have no idea if I did that right, but it’s done.”
“Sounded like it went okay.” A nervous flutter stirred in the pit of her stomach as she fingered the folder’s cover.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She stared at the folder in her hand. “I know Jimmy didn’t do any of the things Calhoun is accusing him of, yet…”
“You’re worried about what you’ll find inside?”
“Yeah.”
“What can I help you with?” He reached out a hand for the folder in her lap.
She grabbed a folder she’d already been through and handed it to him instead.
“Phone records? Didn’t we go over these back at the ranch?” He took it and sat on the recliner. Old springs creaked under his weight.
“I’m just making sure we didn’t miss anything.” She should just tell him about Calhoun’s suspicions that Jimmy and Gayle were having an affair. But seeing that it was his ex-wife, that seemed like sensitive territory. And if Melissa was being honest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that saying it out loud would make it true.
She scooped in a deep breath and flipped open the cover of the credit card folder. The first thing she saw was a hotel charge.
Melissa’s heartbeat accelerated. She eyed the hotel’s address. The downtown Hilton, uncomfortably close to the Denver P.D.’s downtown station.
Nick let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t see anyt
hing here that we didn’t notice before.”
“Keep looking.” She flinched inwardly at the stress in her voice and flipped to the next page of charges. Sure enough. Another charge at the Hilton in the middle of the week. And another. She brought her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes.
“Melissa, what are you really looking for?”
Nick’s voice gave her a jolt. She slapped her palm over the page of charges and opened her eyes.
He gave her a questioning look.
What was she doing? She must be losing her mind. She slid her hand off the side of the page. It was right in front of her in black and white. Saying it out loud wasn’t likely to make things more real than that. “Gayle was charging hotel rooms in downtown Denver during the workweek.”
He raised his brows but said nothing, just waited for her to continue.
She forced herself to tell him about Calhoun’s theories, each word ripping a little piece of her away.
“So Gayle was having an affair with Detective Bernard? That’s why the hotel rooms?” he said, joining the dots Melissa hadn’t wanted to connect out loud. He seemed so calm about it. As if he was discussing a woman who was no more than a stranger.
“It’s impossible.”
Nick answered her with silence.
“Jimmy wouldn’t. Not any more than he would take bribes.”
Again, not a word.
“You don’t believe me.”
“People make mistakes, Melissa. Marriages fall apart for all kinds of reasons.”
“Not Jimmy and Tammy’s.”
“How do you know that? You weren’t part of it. Hell, I wasn’t even fully aware that my own marriage was so far gone until… well, until Gayle really was gone.” He thrust himself up from the recliner and took the spot on the couch next to her. “There might have been things happening that you didn’t know about. Reasons Jimmy had for making choices that don’t seem so smart once everything falls apart.”
“You had an affair when you were married to Gayle?”
“Nothing like that.”
“Then it’s different.”
Justice (A Rocky Mountain Thriller Book 3) Page 10
