by KB Winters
He looked up at me, blue eyes studying me carefully before he looked at my kutte and realized I was safe. “No. My Mom’s visiting her friend who got hurt so I came out here to read. Mom said it was okay.”
Smart kid. When women got together nothing good ever happened. “What’s your name?”
“You can call me Beau,” he said with a wide grin.
I smirked at how adult he sounded. “Is that your name?”
“No,” he sighed, sounding annoyed as hell which amused me to no end. “It’s Rainbeau, but kids are dumb and Mom said Beau is the name of a handsome man. You have a jacket like my friend, do you know him?”
I chuckled and rubbed my neck because Beau’s questions came out like automatic fire. “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Max. Do you know him?”
“Yeah, but how do you know him?”
“He’s married to my friend Jana. Why are you looking at me like that?”
He was right, I probably looked like I’d choked on something as the details slammed into place. The black hair was shorter and not quite as wavy. They didn’t have the same eyes, hers were light green to his blue, but those rosebud lips and porcelain skin could only make him one person’s child. “You’re Moon’s kid.”
He nodded, a smile growing wide like I’d offered him free candy. “You know my Mom? She’s the best, isn’t she?”
She was something all right. “I do know her.”
Beau frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Great, the kid was as perceptive as his mother. “What makes you think something is wrong?”
“You have sad eyes and Mom says that eyes don’t lie. What’s the matter? Jana will be okay. The doctor said her vitals are strong. Hers and the baby’s.”
I blinked at his words, stunned by them. “You’re pretty smart, eh?”
“I have a good memory,” he announced with confidence but not the arrogance that often accompanied smarts. “Want me to read to you?”
“What are you reading?”
“It’s about the cosmos and blackholes. You’ll like it,” he assured me as though it were already settled. But the truth was how did anyone say no to a kid so cute and so damn grownup?
“Sure, kid. That sounds nice.”
“Cool,” he said, scooting a bit closer so I could see the pictures. And then he settled down to read. Beau didn’t play games or squirm or use his finger as a guide.
“You’re a damn good reader, Beau.”
“Well, duh, mister,” he said with a proud grin. “I’m eight, you know.
“Eight, huh? And the name is Cross.”
“I know, Mr. Cross. I’m small for my age. You don’t have to tell me.”
A shadow settled over us and the scent of jasmine and patchouli told me who the intruder was. Moon and she wore a floral print dress that showed off lean arms and sensual curves. Even now, all I could see was her in that bloody bra but looking sexy as hell. “Hey Beau, you’re not bothering Cross are you?”
“No, he said I could read to him. Plus it’s helping so he isn’t sad anymore. About Jana,” he clarified in his effort to keep me out of trouble, I assumed.
“I know, honey,” she gave him a kind smile and ruffled his hair. “How are you, Cross?”
“Fine,” I grunted out because I couldn’t think of anything else. What was it about this woman, my polar opposite, who got me so tangled up that I said the wrong shit and usually ended up looking like a dick?
“Oooookay,” she replied, giving me a cockeyed look. Then she stepped back and reached for her son. “Come on Beau, let’s let Cross get back to his business. I gave Jana a hug for you and guess what?”
“What?”
“She squeezed back.”
Beau went quiet and then he jumped out of his seat with a loud cheer. “Yes! That means she’ll be awake soon.”
I didn’t know how in the hell the kid knew that, but I believed him. Watching Moon and Beau walk away filled me with a sadness and apprehension I couldn’t understand. They were so happy, smiling while they talked about who knew what, completely oblivious to the world around them.
It looked nice.
It wasn’t for me, but it was nice anyway.
***
“Hey man, pretty sure they have to be awake when you touch them like that.”
Max looked up as I entered the room but his hand stayed wrapped around Jana’s. “Cross. Hey.”
“Hungry?”
“Not for cafeteria food,” he grumbled and settled another worried gaze on his wife.
“Good thing. I don’t fuck around with cafeteria food. Subs from Nitzki’s Deli.” I held up the bag filled with sandwiches, chips, and a heap of pickles.
“Thanks.” He took the bag and dug in, reluctantly at first but then he let Jana’s hand go and inhaled his lunch. “Damn, I needed that.”
“Well I didn’t need to see that shit. It was like watching a dinosaur eat.” But a healthy appetite was a good sign, even for friends and family. “So how is she?”
“As good as we can expect, but honestly we don’t know shit, not until she wakes up. She could be absolutely fine or she could be a damn vegetable. But the doctors say in another day or two she should begin to wake up on her own since they reduced her meds.” Max scraped a hand over his face and groaned before settling his gaze on me. “What’s up with you man, you look like shit.”
“Don’t worry about me, Max. I didn’t come here to get into the shit with you, just checking on you both.”
He grunted. “Might as well tell me since you need someone to talk to and I have no where else to be. Yet.” I heard his words and I understood his meaning.
“It’s just little shit that makes me feel like someone bigger than we know is out to get us. Fucking paper pushers complained about the width of the doors at Bungalow Three so we have to get them all expanded by a fucking eighth of an inch.” They gave us thirty damn days or they’ll shut us down. “Just stupid things. Cops tried to do a compliance check at one of the dispensaries too.”
“What the fuck?”
“Exactly. Who else besides Roadkill would want us fucked up like this? It could be the Killer Aces, but I don’t think so. This problem has to be local. We need to get Mayhem back under our control.”
“You talk to the guys yet?” Max didn’t wait for me to answer as his eyes widened. “That’s what the barbecue was for wasn’t it?”
“Yep. Great timing, right?”
“The best,” he grinned, but it dimmed as he looked to Jana, pale and damn near lifeless in the bed.
“I have some other news.” I didn’t want to tell him but I owed him that much. If I was going to make up for what had happened to his wife, I had to start somewhere and this was as good a place as any. “You’re not gonna like it but I need you to be cool.”
“I’m listening.” His tone said he wasn’t listening at all, but I knew what I had to say would reel him in.
“Moon saw the car that fired into her shop. Yellow and black muscle car. She thinks it was a Mustang or something similar.”
Max’s jaws clenched and his eyes darkened with anger. No, not anger. It was fury. Blinding white fury.
“Fucking Vigo,” he spat out, his thoughts mirroring my own. “I thought Buzzkill was supposed to take care of that asshole?”
“I thought so too. They had their chance, now it’s open season.”
“Damn right it is. I could use a bit of therapy right now,” he said, smacking his palm with his fist.
“Yeah. Jag’s looking into the footage around town just to be sure, but I have no fucking doubt it was him. But Max, and I mean the fuck out of this, don’t worry about Vigo.”
“How can I not?” He was angry and rightfully so, but I wouldn’t budge on this.
“Because I’m your President and I’m telling you not to. Jana and Charlie and that little girl, they need you, man. They fucking need you to be here with them until they’re out of trouble. And trust me, if you’re no
t here and something does happen, you’re done. You won’t be able to forgive yourself and the fucking guilt will eat you alive.”
“Cross,” he began, understandably ready to fight. I didn’t blame him. If there had been someone, anyone, to take out my anger on over Lauren’s death, I would have. I would’ve been drunk off it, not stopping until the pain of losing her was gone.
It was never fucking gone. Not ever.
“I’m serious. When Jana wakes up, you better fucking be here. You and Jana are my family and Vigo is at the top of my list right now.” That motherfucker had no idea how dead he already was. If he hadn’t left Vegas yet, I’d make sure it was the decision he regretted most in his pathetic fucking life. “I got you.”
Chapter Six
Moon
More than a week had passed since I set foot in my shop. It was the longest time I’d spent away since I opened it. Rainbow Canvas was my life and my only priority aside from Beau. Today, it needed all of my attention. Not for cleaning, because the insurance adjuster had already come out and done his part of the job and the window guys, painters for the outside and cleaners had done everything they could.
The state of the floors wrecked me, though. From the blood and the gunshots, I had to consider getting new floors or hiring a specialist to repair them because those floors used to be gorgeous and gave the shop personality. I could no longer look at the shop and see the place I created with hard work, love and a lot of elbow grease. Now it was foreign. Different. Strange. It was a crime scene.
And it felt like one, so I reached into the plastic bin behind the counter and grabbed a few bundles of sage and lavender and lit them at the entrance and the archway that led back to the painting area and gallery.
I sat on the floor as they burned, filling the air with relaxing, protective scents that settled my shoulders back to their normal position. I needed to clear my mind and center myself so that each time I looked at the spot at the right of the half circle, I didn’t see Jana lying there bleeding out.
Thirty minutes later I was as stressed and worried as ever, and the sage and lavender had burnt out completely.
A knock sounded at the door that made me jump so high in the air, I was on my feet instead of my bottom. Looking out the window, I let out a groan at the sight of two detectives in ill-fitting suits. I stepped back so they could enter. “How can I help you, detectives?
The older one with the green eyes stepped in first.
“I’m Detective Haynes and this is Dodds. We’re assigned to handle the shooting that took place last week.” His eyes were kind but tired, like a man who had seen too much bad in the world to remain unaffected. “How are you doing, Ms. Vanderbilt?”
“It’s hard being here but I’m okay. How can I help you gentlemen?”
The shorter one, Dodds stepped forward with an angry scowl on his face. “Why does it smell like marijuana in here?”
So he was going to be one of those cops. “Is that illegal in this state, detective?”
His frown deepened and he was even more in my face, not concerned with my height advantage because he had the gun. “Is that what I smell?”
“Actually, no. I haven’t the faintest idea what you smell, Detective. Unless sage and lavender smell like pot, but if you have proof that it’s what you think it is, I’m ready to hear it.” When he said nothing I turned back to the nicer detective. “Did you come here to arrest me for imagined crimes so you have an excuse not to solve the crime that actually took place here?”
“Not at all Ms. Vanderbilt.” Detective Haynes flashed an annoyed look at his short, angry partner. “We just have a few questions about the night of the incident.”
I didn’t want to relive it but I wanted that psycho off the street. “Okay. Ask away, but he can’t stay.” I pointed to Dodds who thought he was being oh so clever, wandering around the shop in hopes to find some pot lying around. As if I would ever be that careless.
“That’s not your choice,” he said from the back and I didn’t bother turning my head, because I knew where he was standing.
“Well if that’s the case then I’d prefer not to speak to the police until I’ve spoken to a lawyer.” I knew how people saw me because I made sure they saw me that way. It was an attempt to leave the old me behind, the girl who wasn’t Moonbeam and who wouldn’t be caught dead in cheap non-designer brands. People like Detective Dodds weren’t worth my time or effort, guys who didn’t bother to look below the surface or consider that outside packaging gave no indication of what was inside. But just because I looked like a pot smoking hippie, didn’t mean I was one. I was, but I was also raised by wealthy and powerful parents, which meant I knew my rights and the power of an attorney.
“We’re trying to help you, lady,” the little man said.
“I think your captain will love to know how you treat crime victims, detective. Maybe you need more time at the academy so you can learn to be something other than a total ass.” His aura was toxic and that told me everything I needed to know about the man. He was poison.
He leaned forward as he drew closer, trying to intimidate me. “What did you call me?”
“Is your hearing defective as well?”
He glared, face so red I thought he might keel over and die right in my shop which would just be unfortunate. “I could arrest you.”
“Dodds! Get out of here goddammit.” Haynes looked to be at the end of his rope as he stared down his tiny partner who huffed and puffed before finally exiting my shop. “Sorry about that, Ms. Vanderbilt. Let’s just say that he’s my punishment for a past sin.”
“No apology necessary. At least you acknowledge that he’s a crappy cop.”
“Ms. Vanderbilt,” he began on an exhausted sigh.
“Call me Moon, please.” Reminding me of my family was not the way to inspire me to be helpful.
“Moon, just remember that no good deed goes unpunished.”
As if I hadn’t learned that truism too many times to count in my life. “Believe me, I know but this isn’t a good deed. I’ll tell you the same thing I told the uniforms who showed up the night of the incident. There was a yellow sports car, yellow and black actually. It looked like the car from Transformers,” I told him nervously, explaining when his brows rose. “My son owns one of those models, it’s his favorite.”
He smirked. “What about the shooter, did you see anything? Race? Hair color or eye color?”
My head was already shaking in response. “No, there was no skin on display just a mass of blackness that I assumed meant he or she was wearing gloves. Just darkness and then a flash of light when the gun went off.” Even replaying it my mind had my breath racing and shallow. My skin began to heat, and my hands started to shake but I could always count on deep breathing exercises. They never failed me. “That’s all I saw, Detective Haynes, I’m sorry.”
He scribbled in his miniature notepad for a long time before he closed it and looked up with a grin. “You were pretty handy to have around, especially for Mrs. Ellison.”
I nodded at his words, hearing the next question before he even asked it. “In another life I was an EMT.”
“And how well do you know Mrs. Ellison?”
“The victim?” I asked for clarification because again, these cops weren’t as clever as they liked to think. “Well enough to know that CPA’s don’t often draw that kind of client dissatisfaction, detective.” He grimaced but had the grace to look ashamed. A little.
“I’m just trying to help, Moon, and that means figuring out who did this.”
“No, you assume that this has something to do with her husband’s motorcycle club. It might or it might not, but knowing the color of a car doesn’t tell you that unless I’ve missed some new investigative techniques?”
He smiled but it was one of frustration and restraint. “It’s a safe bet though, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know detective, what about the incident a few months ago that involved that Governor? That had nothing to do
with the club, did it?”
He sighed because I was adding to his exhaustion but he could join the club. I’d been exhausted for years with no end in sight so his was none of my concern. “Okay, it didn’t. Happy?”
“No I’m not happy. Someone shot up my business and my friend is still in the hospital. Happy is the last thing I’m feeling. Look, Jana and Max both came here for my painting classes and that’s how I met them. Jana and I became friends and that’s all I have for you.”
“Thanks. If you can think of anything else, please let me know.” Detective Haynes left his card on the glass checkout counter and left, taking his toxic little partner with him.
Dealing with the police was never my favorite thing, not since I’d seen up close just how they treated those entrusted in their care. Thanks to my family’s money and my privilege, I only found myself on the wrong side of them once. I wouldn’t forget it. Ever.
Another knock sounded and I practically jumped out of my skin. I wasn’t in the mood for visitors and I was much too jumpy to deal with customers or artists at the moment. But I was clearly visible from the window so I looked up and frowned, walking to the door and unlocking it again. “Cross. What are you doing here?”
He stood in the doorway, so big and imposing that I would have felt intimidated by him if he’d ever given me a reason to fear him. Cross might be surly but he didn’t seem to be dangerous. To me anyway. Hands shoved in his pocket, he looked a little scared. “I came to apologize for the other day. I was out of line and rude for no reason, and I’m sorry about that.”
I stepped back so he could come into the shop and locked the door behind him. Given the events of the last few weeks it didn’t matter much but it made me feel safer. Or something. “It’s fine, Cross, really. You don’t have to like me, especially since you haven’t done much to make yourself all that likable.”
He smirked and crossed his arms, giving me a long glimpse of the tattoos covering his forearms. Blue eyes sparkled with something akin to mischief and I swear to Mother Earth, the tiny smile transformed his whole face from angry curmudgeon to holy smokes irresistible bad boy. “You don’t find me likable?”
