Dead Wrong (17 page)

Taking in his features, I sighed and nodded. “Please. I'd appreciate it. These three murders have me jumping out of my skin. Don't tell Marcus that – he'll have me under guard, and that's intolerable.”

“I'll take it to the lab tomorrow. Even though it's a Sunday, there's always someone on duty.” He reached a hand toward me and drew me into his arms.

I stood folded within the strong, warm embrace for what seemed a long time. It was a comfortable place to be. I breathed in the faint aftershave scent that smelled expensive.

Before I knew what had happened, he'd tipped my head up and kissed me. Not a mild kiss, but a long kiss, a kiss that meant more than friendship. The worst part of it was that I responded to it. I'd moved closer, up against his body.

My inner voice yelled so loud it bounced off the inside of my head. It asked me what the hell I was doing. It asked if I realized who I was kissing. It warned me about cops – all cops. And what about Marcus, it screamed. I stepped away from Aaron, muddle-minded and embarrassed as all get out. What was I thinking? I don't know, probably nothing useful anyway. Definitely nothing smart.

A smile broadened into a wide grin as he stared into my face. It was apparent that I'd made his day. Now what? I wondered.

“I'll remove this from the apartment and stick it in the garage for now. Got a plastic trash bag I can wrap it in?” he asked.

I nodded, went to the kitchen and hauled a bag out from under the counter. He approached and I handed it to him. He wrapped the box and its contents in the bag and strode from the apartment. While he was gone, I closed the front door.

In the office I stared at the pastel painting. Striking color brought a smile to my face as I realized the painting was finished. I had managed to take a break from the artwork, an unexpected and troubling break, but it had paid off. The picture was great, and I knew my mother would love it. I cleaned the pastel dust from the desk with a moist cloth and packed the pastels away.

A few moments later, Aaron returned to stand behind me and stare at the artwork.

“Wow, that's beautiful. Is that for me?”

“No, it's for my mother for Christmas. Do you like it?”

“Sure do. You continue to surprise me.”

“It's a habit I have – surprising people.” I smiled even though the note and manure left me unsettled … as had his kiss.

The phone rang. I answered it as Aaron kissed my forehead, waved goodbye, and left the apartment. Nobody was on the other end of the line so I hung up. Crank callers had become a constant in my life and my annoyance over this would-be prankster climbed to unreasonable proportions. Try as I might, I couldn't clear the anxiety from my mind.

Chapter 22

The day waned as I walked toward the corner and Lola's deli. I'd been cooped up most of the day and the fresh air felt good against my skin. A chilly wind rattled the last of the leaves on the trees that lined the street, but the temperature hadn't dropped enough to snow again.

Inside the deli, I slumped into a chair at a table by the window. Millie glanced up and said she'd be right over. I asked for coffee and turned my attention to the traffic outside.

The hot coffee warmed me as I sipped and tried to decide if I was hungry or simply baffled by my life. Millie stood ‘at the ready' for my order.

“I'll have a couple slices of pizza and a bowl of today's soup. Thanks,” I said.

The reed-thin woman nodded and turned away. She had just reached the counter and set up the tray when a man stumbled through the door. With greasy hair stuck to his head, the lanky man's face sported a day or two of bearded growth. He wouldn't make the cover of GQ Magazine, that's for sure. I watched him stagger toward the counter.

With a glance at Millie's face, I knew I'd been right about her abuse. The woman had backed away from the counter. Fear overwhelmed the bony features of her face. I could nearly smell it from where I sat. Yep – and this guy was the abuser.

My order sat on a tray. It only took a second to cross the floor to get it. I noticed Millie's eyes grow wider as the man advanced toward her, weaving with every step. I shuffled aside, the tray near my hand, and watched in silence as the scene played out.

“Ain't you done here yet, woman? I'm waitin' for my supper. You no good bitch.” He slurred his words, swaying like wheat in the wind.

“Whatcha lookin' at bitch?” He snarled as he caught sight of me. The smell of booze was rank on his breath as he spoke.

The tray slid further away on the counter as I leaned against it. I stared at the man and then glanced at Millie. By now she was terrified. I could tell she'd be in for a few rounds with lover boy when she got home.

“I can't quite figure out what I'm looking at except it's a poor excuse for a human being.” Now call me crazy for provoking this idiot, but I figured if I could get him arrested, then Millie might not catch a beating tonight.

“Vinnie, it's okay. Don't say anything else.” Millie stared at me and then at the man.

“Vinnie, huh…. What kinda name is that for a woman? Are you one of them there lesbian types?” he said, each word a bit slurred.

“None of your business. Why don't you go home and sleep it off?” I suggested. My glance now took in Lola who stood in the kitchen with a cell phone in her hand.

She ducked away from the door as the drunk swerved toward the door. He then weaved around and glared at me again.

“Mind your own business, lesbo. My wife and I have business to discuss. She thinks she's leavin' me, but it ain't happenin' and I want my supper.” With those words, he shoved me aside.

The bowl, full of steaming soup, tipped, slopping onto the counter, and splashing my sleeve. Raising my fist, I punched him square in the face. The look of surprise on his drunken features was well worth the pain that traveled to my wrist upon impact.

The drunk stumbled backward and fell to the floor, his nose spouting blood. He held his nose and tried to rise. I pushed him back down with my foot, and he grasped my ankle. In a flash, I tumbled forward, my knee landing in his chest. A woof of putrid air rushed from his lungs into my face. I thought I'd throw up, but I rolled away instead.

Seconds later, two state troopers strode into the room. One stared at the drunk on the floor and one stared at me, a smirk on his face as he assisted me off the floor.

“We got a call about an altercation. Can you explain what happened, ma'am?” he said to me.

“This man assaulted me and I responded,” I said as I soothed my knuckles.

The trooper turned toward Millie and asked if that was true. She nodded, but never opened her mouth. With eyes large and round, Millie glanced at the drunk on the floor and then at me.

From the back room, Lola strode toward the two officers. She knew one of them and smiled the Julia smile. It worked, as usual, and I figured the only person to be arrested was the drunk. Sometimes it's nice to be right.

With a brief explanation of my actions, Lola paved the way for the man to be hauled away in cuffs. The trooper, who'd smirked at me, broke into a grin and explained he knew Marcus. It was a sure thing that Marcus would hear about the incident before these two men and their detainee reached headquarters. I smiled and nodded as they left the building.

“Are you all right, Vin?” Lola asked.

I nodded my head and took the tray of food from the counter after Millie refreshed the soup.

“Millie, come out from behind the counter and have something to eat with us.” Motioning to her, Lola smiled.

The timid woman shuffled toward the table where I'd set my food. Lola headed for the kitchen to fetch some delightful snack or other. I nudged a chair toward Millie, indicating that she sit down.

“Can I get you something to drink, Millie?” I asked.

“N-no, I'm good, thanks.” Her head bobbed back and forth. “You weren't scared?”

“Nah, I took a self-defense class last year. I'm pretty confident that I can handle myself, if need be. You might think of taking that course, too. I know the woman who teaches it. She's cool.”

“Duane will be real mad when he wakes up in jail. We're separated and I'm waiting for my divorce date. He's a mean man. I couldn't take it any longer.”

“You been married long?”

“Yeah, four years. It wasn't like this in the beginning, just since he lost his job. Then he started drinking. He jumped from one job to another, and drinking always caused him to lose whatever position he could get. He started to blame me, then the violence began. After the first time or two, I realized he wouldn't stop. That's when I considered divorce.”

“Sounds like the right decision to me. I'm not one who believes in taking abuse. Everyone is different though. I'll put you in touch with people who can help you out if you need it. Let me know.”

“Thanks,” she said and stared at Lola when a dish loaded with food was placed in front of her.

“Eat this – you'll feel better. You need some fat on your bones anyway.” Lola smiled. “Where are you staying?”

“I'd been staying with my mother, but she left for Florida today so I have no place to go for the moment.”

“Come home with me and we will make arrangements for you tomorrow. There's no need for you to be homeless and a nervous wreck.” She smiled again, and Millie visibly relaxed.

We ate in silence for a brief time before Millie opened up about her life. I gave her information for a battered women's shelter and explained how to get in touch with people who could help her in this time of need.

The evening drew to a close. I walked toward home after Lola closed the deli. She'd offered a ride, but I needed the fresh air so refused. The car disappeared from sight as I wandered along the dark, quiet street.

Trees rustled in the wind. Leaves crunched and footfalls sounded behind me. My own steps quickened over the last several yards toward the house. I'd nearly reached the front gate when a hand shot out and caught my shoulder.

In a flash, I turned toward my attacker, my fist curled and drawn back. I yelled at the top of my lungs for this person to step away and leave me alone. Instead of one hand grasping me, two hands now tightened on my jacket. My fist swung up and caught him on the side of the head. A grunt sounded when I made contact. With a quick twist I tried to get away, the edge of my shoe slid down his shin and again I yelled out. The man shoved me to the ground and ran like hell after he'd mumbled something about my bitchy attitude.

It seemed an eternity, but was surely just a few seconds when I heard the door to the house open. Aaron ran at top speed to where I sat on the ground. He lifted me as though I weighed nothing.

“Are you all right, Vin?” he asked as he brushed the dirt from my clothes and checked my face.

“Yeah, he didn't hurt me. I think I hurt him instead. My second fight of the night.” My hands stung and I rubbed them to eliminate any tiny pebbles lodged in the skin.

His strong arm wrapped around my shoulder and pulled me close in a bear hug. I huddled against Aaron's side just as a cruiser slid up to the curb. I glanced down to see Marcus, a calculating look on his features. Shit.

The window slid down and Marcus put the car in park.

“Something going on here?” he asked with his cop face on.

“Vinnie was just assaulted,” Aaron said.

The door swung open and Marcus stepped from the car. He peered at me in the poor lighting as I stared back.

“Are you hurt, Vin?”

“I wasn't expecting to get jumped, but I'm fine.”

“Did you get a look at your attacker?” he asked.

“Not really. He grabbed me from behind and swung me around. Things happened so fast. If I hadn't been yelling at the top of my lungs, who knows what would have happened. Aaron came to the rescue, thank God.”

“Go in the house. I'll meet you there,” he said to us and climbed back into the car.

We clambered into the house and tossed our jackets on the sofa as Marcus pulled into the driveway. He joined us in the living room and checked me out for injuries.

“You're sure you're all right?” he asked.

“Yes, I'm fine. Don't hover.” I smiled a little, and he relaxed a bit.

Aaron strode into the room with a bottle of whiskey and poured a shot for me. I sipped the fiery liquid to clear away the shock. He sat nearby, concern etched on his features as he stared.

“I'm really all right, guys,” I said at last. I placed the drink on the table and stood up. Twirling around, I moved my body parts so the men would relax and know I hadn't lied.

A chuckle from them met my smile. “It seemed this guy laid in wait for me. I'd been to the deli and after it closed, I walked home. Leaves rustled and then footsteps followed.” In seconds I explained the rest and watched as the two men nodded.

“You'll be okay now, right? No more wandering around in the dark?” Marcus asked.

“Yes, I'm home for the night.”

“I've got to get back on the road, but if anything happens, call me. Aaron will be upstairs. Lock up and don't let anyone in that you don't know. Understand?”

I nodded. He kissed my forehead and left. Aaron stood and stared at me.

“You must have woken everyone on the street. I heard you yell the first time. Before I could get my shoes on and reach you, you were screaming again. Good job, Vin. That defense course has paid off, and then some, huh?”

“Indeed.” I leaned back in the chair sharing the evening's events with him. His disbelief was apparent until I got to the part where the drunk was hauled off to jail.

“Never a dull moment with you around. Have you ever thought of joining the World Wrestling Federation?” he asked with a grin.

“No, that's you're job, you brute.” I chuckled and watched as he said good night and left the apartment.

Another crazy day had passed leaving me tired to the bone. I locked up, changed my clothes, and headed to bed. The phone rang as I climbed under the covers. I picked it up and heard nothing. Anger rose like bile in my throat.

“Listen, you'd better quit calling or I'll find you and kick your monkey ass,” I yelled.

A click on the line told me that the caller had gotten the message.

Gingerly, I set the phone in its stand and snuggled in for the night.