Good Girl Gone Bad (26 page)

“How about my place after I close up the club tonight?”

Candi squealed. “That would be wonderful! I can’t wait.”

He ended the conversation and the churning feeling in his gut told him he’d just made a big mistake. His brain argued that point. He was no good for Phil and she had become an unexpected complication. The sooner he moved away from her emotionally, the sooner his objectivity would return.

He sighed and turned on the radio. “Lesson in Leavin’” blared into the cab of his truck. He turned it off. He wasn’t a fool-hearted man. He was smart. He’d had a temporary bout of stupid. As far as he was concerned, he’d fixed it.

Let Phil be angry. She’d get over it and they would go their separate ways. No harm, no foul. Simple.

Phil lay awake in her bed, the feeling of abandonment burning hot inside. When she woke to her empty bed, she’d made a quick sweep of the house. Not one sign of Ty Jamerson. If she wasn’t so sore and didn’t have spots of Hershey’s chocolate syrup sticking between her legs, she’d have sworn it was all a dream. Not even a note, with a quick “Thanks, it was great.”

Grabbing her pillow from under her head, she pummeled it, squashing it up into a little square. Frustrated, she slammed her head down on it. What the hell did she expect? Flowers over breakfast in bed? Not Ty’s style. He’d been upfront and honest with her. He hadn’t promised her anything but the ride of her life. At least there he’d come through.

She rolled over, planting her face in the soft pillow, sniffing deeply of Ty’s scent. She punched the mattress.

She rolled out of bed and hurried into her bathroom. She kicked the little stool sitting next to the tub and screamed out in pain. Her toe throbbed and she grabbed it, hopping on her other foot. “Damn you, Ty Jamerson!” She snatched the offending piece of furniture and hurled it out of the bathroom and into the hallway. “Stupid stool.”

Her foot still throbbed as she turned the water on full blast and stood under it until her teeth chattered. Walking from the bathroom as she was toweling off, she heard her cell phone ring. Ty?

She hurried to the phone on the nightstand. “Hello?”

“Officer Zorn?” a woman’s shaky voice asked. Familiarity niggled.

“Yes. This is Officer Zorn, who is this?”

“Mindy Flint, Margery’s daughter.”

“Did your mother come home?”

“No, and I’m really worried about her.”

“Have you filed a missing persons report?”

“No—I, I think—I don’t trust the cops.”

Phil didn’t remind her that she was a cop. “Why not? What happened, Mindy? Tell me what you know.”

“I can’t, not over the phone. Meet me at Café Solé on Mission Boulevard in an hour. Can you do that?”

“Absolutely.” She didn’t hesitate, not even after her close call the other night. This was different. She’d be in a public place in broad daylight.

Forty-five minutes later, Phil sat back against the wall at a back table in the grubby little diner, nursing the worst cup of coffee she’d ever had the misfortune of ordering. Normally, she took a dash of cream, but today she created her Americanized version of café au lait with the help of massive doses of sugar. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the before or after.

Mindy skirted through the door like a little mouse being chased by a hungry cat. Phil stood. What the hell had her spooked?

Locking eyes with Phil, Mindy hurried toward her. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Thank you for calling me.”

“You’re not recording me, are you?”

“Hell no, why would I?”

Mindy shrugged and sat down. “It’s what cops do.”

Phil nodded. “True enough, but I’m not wearing a wire. Truth be told, my superiors have no idea I’ve revisited my father’s closed case.”

“He wasn’t as bad as they made him out to be, you know?”

Unexpectedly, Phil’s eyes heated up and she blinked back tears. “He wasn’t bad at all. He was framed, and I know it was a cop who framed him.”

Mindy nodded. “My mother would never tell me what happened. I know she didn’t want to testify against Mac, but she didn’t have a choice.”

“Why did she lie?”

Mindy stared at a spot on the table for a long moment before she answered. “She didn’t.”

Phil gasped. “That’s not true!”

Mindy reached across the table and took Phil’s trembling hands. “From the time I was a little girl, I knew why men came around my house. I pretended that it was normal, that all little girls’ moms had lots of boyfriends. It was the reason I trusted cops. Lots of uniforms came through my front door, and they always left with a smile on their face. Mom was a beat wife, plain and simple, to whoever would have her.”

Phil shook her head. Denial clouded her vision.

“When Mac started coming by, it was to preach to her,” Mindy continued, “to tell her there was a better way. In some ways, Mom believed him. She started turning cops away. The more she turned away, the more Mac came to visit. There was another cop who was friends with Mac. After a while he was the only one Mom let come around. Mom did other work for him. Until Mac found out.”

Phil blinked. So far her father had only tried to save a lamb from slaughter. “What happened then?”

“Mac came by and he was there.”

“Who was he?”

Mindy shook her head. “Mom called him Sal. He always came by late. If I was still up, Mom made me go to my room. His voice scared me so I didn’t argue.”

Phil’s skin cooled. Her instincts told her Sal set up her father. She wracked her brain. No Sal or Salvatore rang a bell.

“Mac came over one night and that other cop was there. He found him in bed with my mother. There was a terrible fight. The other guy left, but Mac stayed. Mom attacked him and said if he loved her he’d taker her away. She dug her nails into his face and he flung her off. She hit her head against the doorjamb. He—he cried, and told her over and over how sorry he was.”

Mindy’s eyes watered and she looked at Phil. “Mom told him to leave, to never come back.”

Phil shook her head. Tears overflowed Mindy’s brown eyes, making silent streams down her cheeks. “When he left, Mom cried, then ran after him, pleading with him to take us away, to be my dad. She told him the only reason she was in bed with Sal was because he would kill her if he didn’t.”

Mindy smiled through her tears.

“Mac picked her up and carried her into her room. They were in there for a long time. When Mac left that night, he told my mother if he ever caught another man in her bed, he’d kill her.”

Phil gasped. No! Not her father! “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry. After that night he came by all of the time, and the other guy my mom called Sal didn’t come around again.”

“Then why did he hurt her?”

“Sal came back after a while, and Mom started acting really strange. One night a couple of months later, Mac caught them. I heard fighting and things being thrown. I hid under my bed. The next thing I knew Mac was pulling me out from under my bed. He told me everything would be all right. I believed him. My mom was gone and so was Sal.

“Later the next day Mom came home. She was a mess. She wouldn’t talk to me about it.” Mindy coughed. “Shortly after that another cop, this one I know now was an undercover cop, came by and told Mom he’d been watching her and Mac. That Mac was running whores and he knew she was supplying him with names. Mom denied it. She wanted to know where Mac was. The cop told her he could never hurt her again. Mom insisted Mac never hurt her. The cop told her it was okay, she didn’t have to lie for him, he was going to go to jail for a long time. He told her if she testified against Mac, they would drop pandering charges against her. She refused to do it. He told her if she didn’t she’d be arrested and I would go to a foster home.”

“Did Margery ever tell you Mac hurt her?”

“No. Mac was a gentle man. That one time he pushed her away, it was her fault. Not his. He was a good man.”

“Do you remember what the cop who said he was watching looked like?”

“Tall, blond. But it wasn’t natural. Long blond hair, and a short Fu Manchu–type mustache.” Mindy blushed and looked at her clasped hands. “He was handsome.” She looked up from her hands, her dark eyes still moist. “I’m afraid Sal has my mom.”

It was Phil’s worst fear, as well. She nodded and wondered why he would come back for Margery eight years after the fact. Her skin crawled. Because he knew Phil was snooping around. He was still a cop. What cop knew she was hell-bent on finding her father’s killer?

Now her skin chilled. Only one name came to mind: Ty Jamerson.

If she had been gut punched by a heavyweight boxer, she could not have hurt more than she did at that moment. She’d been intimate with her father’s killer. “Oh, shit,” she whispered.

Confusion ping-ponged in her brain.

“Mindy, I’ll do what I can. In the meantime, you have my number, call me if you remember anything else about Sal or the cop who forced your mother to testify.”

Mindy nodded. As Phil walked past her to the front door of the diner, Mindy called out, running to her and grabbing her hands. “The blond cop! He liked candy. Root beer barrels! Both times he came to the house, he gave me one from his pocket.”

The soft whoosh of root beer–scented breath swept across her senses, and the memory was as distinct and arousing at that moment as it had been three years ago.

Phil’s blood drained. Now there was no doubt.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

O
n the drive home, Phil processed Mindy’s information. Her heart wrung every time she thought of her father in bed with Margery Flint—Ruby, a hooker and a drug addict. She couldn’t accept it,
wouldn’t
. Not stand-up, decorated police sergeant Mac Zorn. Not her stalwart God-fearing father. He would never betray her mother—Mindy’s memory was lax. As a fatherless little girl she must have created a fantasy world with Mac as her daddy.

Phil swiped a tear from her cheek and focused on the road. None of it mattered anyway. Because regardless of her father’s guilt or lack thereof, no matter how she added it up, no matter how she shifted the puzzle pieces, she always returned to the same person: Ty Jamerson. He might as well have pulled the trigger. If he hadn’t forced Margery to testify against her father, he’d still be alive.

He lied to her when she’d asked him who StreetSmart was. It was him, of course. Betrayal rankled deep. How could she have let herself get so close to Ty? All of the warning signs were there, the bells had rung loud and clear repeatedly. Why had she ignored them?

As she drove home, she wasn’t sure what emotion she felt stronger, anger at Ty for his lying ways or disappointment that he was the one. She realized she hoped he would be her knight in shining armor. Instead he was the black knight, one who could never redeem himself in her eyes. Her disillusions went beyond Ty. Her father had culpability here, as well.

She felt abandoned by the important people in her life. Her father, her mother, and now Ty. What was so hard about living the truth? Now
who
is being naïve? she asked herself.

It was a big bad world out there, and she could attest to the fact that sometimes life had many gray areas.

But her father? He had been larger than life in her eyes. He still was.

Mac was a good man, who
might
have made an error in judgment. But did he deserve to die for it? No, he didn’t! As her Auntie Jenny always told her, What goes around comes around. Ty Jamerson would get his and she’d be the one to make it happen.

She’d get him, all right, and tonight was as good a night as any. Carefully, she prepared.

Later as she headed out the front door, hell-bent on taking Ty Jamerson down, she slammed into a body. “Captain!”

“Evening, Zorn. Have a minute?”

She nodded and stepped back into her house.

“Something wrong, sir?” She gestured him into the living room.

“A hunch. I came to warn you.”

“Warn me, sir?” She sounded like a damn parrot.

She sat down in the same chair she’d seduced Ty in. Her captain sat across from her on the sofa.

“This case you’re working. I think for your safety you should resign from it.”

“Resign? I can’t, we’re close. I can feel it.”

The man looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept in days. “Are you okay, sir?”

“I’m getting too old for this shit, Philamina. I’m worried sick about you. So is your mother.”

“You spoke with my mother?”

He nodded. “I stopped by earlier today to say hello. She says you don’t call.”

Shame flooded her. “I-I will, once this case is closed.”

Dettmer scooted to the edge of his seat, locking his hands together between his knees. He looked hard at her. “I don’t like the fact that you’ve gotten thick with Jamerson. He’s going down, and when he does I don’t want you going down with him.”

“That will not happen, sir. And don’t worry about Jamerson, I have his number.”

Dettmer cocked a brow. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“No, just a hunch right now. When I get concrete evidence, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I don’t like you working your own angle without support.”

Phil stood. “I’m a big girl and a trained professional, sir. When I have something to give you, I will. Now, I don’t want to be rude, but I was just leaving for work and I don’t want to be late.”

Dettmer nodded and stood. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Sometimes the bad guy’s right under your nose.”

Yeah, and didn’t she know it.

“I’ll keep alert, sir.”

As she followed him to the door, he turned and put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Your old man would be proud. Even though he didn’t think much of women in uniform, you’ve done him proud, Philamina.”

Her eyes moistened. She was going to do him one proud better. Lock the bastard up who drove him to take his own life.

“Thank you, Captain. That means a lot coming from you.”

He smiled, turned, and pushed open the door. He turned back to her just as quickly. He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I almost forgot, this was wedged into the screen door.”