Switchblade

by Carsen Taite

  “But if I come back with my friend, who has a badge, you can. Right?” I didn’t wait for his answer. My mission had been to stir up some shit, and I was certain I’d succeeded. Time to leave and wait for the fallout. When Cash and I got back in the Bronco, I made sure the ringer on my phone was turned up all the way. Diamond should be calling any minute.

  *

  Diamond didn’t call, but Ronnie did. She wanted to come over, talk to me about what she’d learned so far. At the sound of her voice, I flashed back to the scene in my apartment. Me half-naked, her hot and hungry. I’d purposely not thought about it since then, and now I realized I felt something I’d never felt when it came to sex. Embarrassed. I wished I’d kept my pants on. Wished I told her I wasn’t in the mood or I didn’t want to have sex with the woman who was paying my bills. Things I’d never wished before, and I didn’t want to think about why I was wishing them now. I told her to meet me at Maggie’s.

  Cash and I beat her there and, while we waited, Maggie regaled us with stories about Mark’s honeymoon. As much as I hadn’t wanted to hear the stories, I gave her my full attention. Other people’s happily ever afters distracted me from whatever I was missing.

  Ronnie arrived right in the middle of Maggie telling me how Linda had been stung by a jellyfish while they were snorkeling in whatever island paradise they’d run off to after the wedding.

  “Who’s Linda?”

  Maggie ignored Ronnie’s question and shot daggers my way before she stomped off. I was glad I’d already had one good beer, since I was about to get served shit the rest of the night.

  “My brother’s wife.”

  “Your sister-in-law.”

  “I guess. I don’t know her well enough to call her that yet.”

  “Did your brother get married recently?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I waited for her to make the connection.

  “Oh, right! Last Friday, the tux. You were headed to the wedding. How was it?”

  I bit my tongue, but I wanted to ask how she thought it was when she—the hot ex—had shown up minutes before my date and I were ready to head out the door. “Let’s talk about something else. You have anything new to tell me?”

  “Matter of fact, I do. I found out where Greg Jackson’s wife lives, and”―she pushed an envelope toward me―“I have copies of the pleadings in their divorce case. It was nastier than most.”

  “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Talk to her. Looks like she went after him for support and punitive damages for beating her. Maybe Jackson needed money so he cooked up this scheme with the CI.

  “The guy’s in a coma. You get that, right?”

  “And that makes him less of a suspect?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but it just seems chicken shit to go after him right now.” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about her eagerness was bugging me.

  “The only thing funny about this is your reluctance. When did you develop such highbrow ethics?”

  I’d never been accused of having ethics, highbrow or not, but the question, coming from her, pissed me off. My anger led to clarity. If she was right and Jackson had set Jorge up, then why was Jackson the one in a coma? Wouldn’t Jorge be the one most likely to have wanted Jackson out of the picture?

  But he’d acted so surprised when I told him about Jackson, and how would he have known about the meeting anyway?

  I searched my memory for every detail about that night. Nancy had picked me up. It had never occurred to me anyone might have followed us. But someone had followed me earlier that day. Ronnie. She’d mentioned seeing me talking to Nancy at lunch. And she’d been at my apartment not long before Nancy picked me up that evening. Could she have arranged the shooting? Maybe tipped her brother off? If Jackson was working with IAD, then Jorge had a strong motive to get him out of the picture. And with Garcia nowhere to be found, the evidence against Jorge seemed to be slipping away.

  Maybe Nancy had been only collateral damage. If Jorge was behind the shooting, it would explain why I hadn’t been caught up in the crossfire. Why shoot your own employee?

  If Jackson was out of the picture and Garcia truly vanished, then the last link between Jorge and the case was Perez. Was she in danger? Would I care if she was? All I really cared about was whether I was being used.

  I stared at the woman across the table from me and considered whether to confront her with my suspicions. She’d lied to me before. I thought I’d be able to tell if she did it again, but now I wasn’t so sure. I decided to play along with her until I could figure out what was real and what wasn’t. I opened the envelope she’d given me and pretended to be engrossed with the papers inside. Took a lot of paper to break up a marriage.

  “Okay, I’ll go talk to the former Mrs. Jackson.” I kept my eyes on the papers as I made the concession.

  “Great. I really think this will lead to something. Have you managed to find out anything else?”

  “Not yet.” No way was I going to tell her about my hunt for Garcia. If her little brother was into eliminating witnesses, I wasn’t going to lead him to any more. “But I’ll go see Jackson’s ex and let you know what I find out.” I stood and motioned to Cash. “I’m supposed to meet up with my brother. See you later?”

  She looked surprised at my obvious dismissal. “Uh, sure. Tell him congratulations on the wedding.”

  That would have been sweet, had she known my brother, or even ever met him. As it was, her attempt to get close to me by talking about personal stuff creeped me out, especially in light of all the crazy notions going through my head. All I wanted to do right now was get far enough away from her to process what was going on.

  Cash and I walked back to my apartment, and I took the time to consider what to do next. I’d already decided I would try to talk to Jackson’s ex-wife. She probably wouldn’t have a clue if he had snitched on Jorge, but I’d take any information I could get at this point, and if Ronnie was watching me, acting normal seemed like the best thing to do until I figured out where things stood.

  We passed Withers on the way into the apartment complex, and he actually waved at me, all friendly-like. Guess paying my rent a month in advance meant I was his new favorite tenant. At least he’d stopped hassling me about Cash. Good, since the way things were going, this dog was probably the only friend I had left.

  I had my key in the lock, when I heard footsteps behind me. Cash started talking, and I turned to see who had gotten his attention.

  Jess.

  She bent down and used both hands to rub Cash’s ears. He leaned into her and growled his pleasure with every touch. Traitorous dog.

  I wished I was him.

  When the dog became a puddle of mush on the sidewalk, Jess looked up at me with soulful blues of her own. “Luca, we need to talk.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Talking was the last thing I wanted to do. I put my key back in my pocket and dropped my hand from the doorknob. Jess wore dark jeans, a tight white T-shirt, and a sleek black leather jacket. The dark circles under her eyes didn’t detract from how hot she looked or how much I wanted her.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

  I was scared that if I opened the door, invited her inside, all my self-control would slip away. I’d abandon this case, promise anything, do anything, to feel Jess’s body against mine. To keep her in my life. To recapture what we’d had before.

  And that scared me to death. I stalled. “Do you think it’s a good idea to be seen here?”

  “Probably not, but it’s a little late now.”

  She didn’t offer anything else, and I was torn between being pissed that she was making me pull information out of her and being glad to see her. “What about all the ‘I can’t see you while you’re working on this case’ bullshit?”

  “Seriously, Luca, are you going to open the door? I need to talk to you, and I’m not doing it out here.” She glanced around and not in a casual way. Something was going o
n. Had to be or she wouldn’t have shown up here. I looked down at Cash, who stood at full attention, like he’d picked up on her cautious mood. Neither of them wanted to be sitting ducks, but if danger lurked nearby, being in my apartment wasn’t going to protect us. I tentatively put a hand on Jess’s arm, and when she didn’t pull away, I held her more tightly and started walking to the parking lot. When we reached the Bronco, I led her to the passenger door and whispered, “Get in.”

  I saw the rise of a protest in her eyes, and I shook my head. She remained silent as she climbed into the car. Once Cash and I were in as well, she waited at least ten seconds before asking, “What the hell are we doing?”

  “We’re going for a drive. You have something better to do?”

  If she did, she didn’t say it. I was glad she hadn’t fought me on this and wasn’t asking any more questions, because I didn’t have any answers. All I knew was she’d shown up at my door when I’d least expected her to, and whatever had prompted her visit had both of us a little spooked. But I didn’t care about that as much as I cared about her being here with me.

  My car was on autopilot, and we hit a ton of traffic on I-35. I didn’t usually visit the casino on Monday afternoons, and I’d never taken Jess with me. My gambling wasn’t something we talked about much, but I knew she didn’t approve. At least today it would be legal, unlike all the games I’d played at Bingo’s place. She waited until we pulled into the parking lot of the Winstar World Casino before she finally brought up something besides the weather and how the Mavericks were doing.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  Way to change the subject. Wasn’t like I didn’t know Jess thought I was one step away from disaster most of the time, but I couldn’t remember her ever saying it out loud. I kept my eyes straight ahead and tried a little levity. “Good thing someone is.”

  “I mean it, Luca. It’s not my place to tell you who to sleep with, but if you want to go around playing detective, you may want to know more about what you’re getting into.”

  I started to say a bunch of things in protest, but they all died on my lips as I realized Jess thought I was sleeping with Ronnie. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but where there once was a time I would have admitted it like a badge of honor, now I only wanted to hide in shame. Instead, I stuck to what I thought would be safe ground—the case. “What do you know that I don’t?”

  “Diamond Collier called me today.”

  “What?” Now I wasn’t sure if the “who to sleep with” comment had to do with Ronnie or Diamond, since Jess knew I’d been with both. Either way, I was more unsettled Diamond had called Jess than I was that Jess was giving me a hard time about sleeping around. “What did she want?”

  “Apparently, she thinks I have some influence over you. She wanted me to warn you off Roberto Garcia, the CI in the Moreno case. She wouldn’t tell me much, but she made it very clear you might be putting yourself in danger if you keep snooping around for him.” She paused. “You want to tell me how Diamond’s wrapped up with what’s going on with Jorge Moreno?”

  I did. Very much. I’d been desperate to talk to Jess about the case, but she was the one who’d cut ties. I told her so.

  “Luca, my job is all I have. I’ve gone out on a limb for you before, but if I take a risk again and things go south…What am I supposed to do then?”

  “Yet, here you are.”

  She looked out the window and I followed her gaze. The casino did indeed represent the “world” with cheesy facades featuring landmarks like the Coliseum and Big Ben. As corny as it was, it was the closest legalized gambling place to Dallas, and it was huge. I’d gotten lucky here in more ways than one.

  Not today. I wasn’t sure why I’d driven here, except I couldn’t think of another place where Jess and I could talk without the risk of being seen together. I’d paid close attention on the drive up and was certain we hadn’t been followed. Now that we were here, we could get lost in the crowd. I paused to wonder why I cared so much about protecting Jess when she’d shown up on my doorstep in broad daylight. “I don’t have a clue why Diamond is so hell-bent on keeping me off the trail of a witness, but it bothers me a whole hell of a lot that she’s so worked up about it that she came to you.” I left unsaid the part about why Diamond would think Jess would have any influence over me.

  “Don’t look at me. She didn’t share her motivation with me.”

  “But you thought it was important enough to show up on my doorstep.”

  “It wasn’t a hard decision. I wanted to see you.” She delivered the simple statement and then looked out her window, seemingly transfixed on something in the distance. She didn’t fool me. I decided to cave first.

  “I’m glad you did.”

  She looked back my way. One look and I didn’t care about Diamond or Nancy or Jorge or Ronnie. All I cared about was the want in her eyes, the craving she inspired. My clothes were too tight, the air in the car was too thin. I opened my mouth to gasp for air, but better than oxygen, Jess pulled me to her and kissed me. Long. Hard.

  I kissed her back, imprinting every trace of her tongue, every brush of her lips. Unlike when we’d parted on Saturday, I was determined that if this was the last time, I would remember it always. Breathing seemed so not important anymore.

  When she finally broke the embrace, I sank back against the seat and basked in the glow of it. I felt a slight pressure on my shoulder and looked up to see Cash’s head resting there. The expression in his eyes was questioning.

  “He’s either hungry or he needs to go,” Jess said.

  “Probably both.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “What do you want to do?” It was like we were two teenagers on our first date. We’d made out in the car and now neither one of us was sure how the rest of the evening should go. I decided to step up.

  “How about we take Cash for a walk over there?” I pointed at the picnic area to the side of the casino. “And then we go inside and take a look around.”

  “Hundred dollar limit. First one who loses that, we’re out of here.”

  She’d offered way more than I expected. “Deal.”

  *

  We called it quits at eleven o’clock even though neither one of us had lost a dime. Instead of driving back, we booked a room with our winnings and ordered a bottle of champagne. Jess’s choice, not mine. I figured I could concede my usual beer since she’d spent the evening indulging my other vice.

  “I can’t believe they let Cash in without giving you more flack,” she said.

  “Good-looking people, good-looking dogs. It’s all the same. If you’re cute, you get better treatment.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Why do you think the room service guy threw in these snacks? It wasn’t because you’re ugly.”

  “Whatever.” She poured us each a glass of bubbly and joined me on the bed. “I think we should talk.”

  “That’s what you get for thinking.” I drank half my glass and tried to ignore the fizz up my nose. Maybe if we got drunk really fast, we could avoid “the talk.”

  Didn’t work.

  “I know you don’t want to.”

  I put my glass down. “Okay, so here’s the deal. You say that so I’ll say ‘you don’t know that’ and then you say ‘well, if that’s true, then why don’t we talk?’ and then I say ‘why don’t we’ and then we wind up talking just like you wanted, and I didn’t, in the first place.”

  She stared at me like I had three heads. “Are you done?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “You really think I’d set you up like that?”

  I considered more champagne, but it wasn’t helping and I had a feeling I was going to have a colossal headache tomorrow. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “You don’t know me at all.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, her pronouncement hanging in the air. It might be true.

  “I know you well enough.”

  “Well enough
to call when you need help. Well enough to fuck. But what else do you know?”

  “I know how you like your coffee.”

  “Not funny, Luca.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” The edge in her voice was getting on my nerves. It was almost like she was accusing me of something, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was coming up short. “You’re mad at me because I don’t know your favorite color or—”

  I fished around in my brain for trivial things girlfriends share, but I didn’t have a good reference point so I made it up on the fly. “Or the make of the first car you ever drove.”

  “Don’t be a jerk.”

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  “You. You’ve gotten into me. Something changed between us. Tell me you don’t feel it.”

  Oh, I felt it all right, but saying it out loud was completely different. I looked at the champagne bucket, the bedspread, the nightstand, and Cash, who lay at the foot of the bed in a deep sleep—absolutely no help at all. No matter where I tried to focus my attention, I couldn’t deny that Jess was here in the room, wanting something from me, something I wasn’t sure I knew how to give. I was scared to death.

  “Luca, look at me.”

  I buckled down and did what she asked. When our eyes met, I felt it in my gut. I’d expected to see her wanting, but she was giving. Offering anyway.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then tell me what you’re feeling.”

  I didn’t think she wanted to hear my stomach was in knots, my heart was about to beat out of my chest, and I was a second away from needing a paper bag to breath. “I, uh, I…”

  Jess’s eyes dropped, and I experienced a second of shame at the relief I felt when I was no longer the object of her laser focus. My relief was brief.

  “I love you.”

  Holy shit. My head shot up on the second word, and I saw her lips moving, but I couldn’t process. “What?”

  “I said I love you. Now you say something stupid that’ll make me sorry for it.”