Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (6 page)

She smiled at Kevin. “It does.”

Jericho ran into the kitchen. “Can I have ‘nother marshmallow?”

I crouched down. “Do you promise to come back and visit me if I give you one?”

He nodded warily.

“Okay. Open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise.”

He giggled and squeezed his eyes shut, only peeking once.

I popped two marshmallows in his mouth.

He chewed. Swallowed. Grinned. His sticky hands 50

slapped my cheeks. “You’re funny.”

Jericho turned and ran. Abita chased after him, tossing out, “Th

ank you for the hot chocolate. I’ll call

you soon.”

My fi ngers gripped the counter. I needed something solid to hold onto because my whole world had just been tossed upside down.

51

I don’t know why I was crying. Bawling never solved a damn thing. Plus, I felt stupid because I should’ve been overwhelmed with joy that a part of Ben had lived on, not crying like a sissy girl.

Kevin steered me to the living room and plopped me on the couch. I wallowed in his concern for . . . oh, about one minute . . . before I surrounded myself with my own brand of comfort: several mouthfuls of Don Julio chased by the fi zzy goodness of Coors.

My eyes watered when I knocked back shot #5.

“Maybe you oughta lay off the tequila,” Kevin said.

“I haven’t seen you cry this much since the day you squared off with Leanne about Kiyah last spring.”

His hand froze in the box of Triscuits. Our eyes met in remembrance of a steamy kiss that wasn’t unwanted, 52

just untimely.

He glanced away quickly and rammed a stack of crackers in his mouth.

We’d never discussed our lapse in judgment. It was pointless now.

I smoked until his discomfort evaporated and the booze loosened my tongue. “Does this day seem surreal to you? Or is it just me?”

“Abita showing up with Ben Junior? Or watching Lang Everett end up in the pit of despair?”

Kevin’s sense of humor always made me smile. “Both, I guess. Maybe it’s selfi sh, but I’m thinking more of Abita and Jericho. What was your impression of her?”

“Damn young. But, at the same time, she seems wise beyond her years.” Kevin dusted cracker crumbs from his shirt. “However, I don’t think it’s coincidental she’s here now. What was your gut feeling?”

“Besides that she didn’t try very goddamn hard to fi nd me to tell me I had a nephew?”

“Would that’ve made a diff erence, Jules?”

I hated that he had a point. “No. It just seems so . . .

soap-opera-ish. A secret love child. Th

e father dies under

mysterious circumstances. Th

e mother fears for her life,

so she keeps the child hidden until it suits her purposes, whatever those nefarious purposes may be.”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t say anything like 53

that.”

“She didn’t have to.”

“What if she opts not to contact Ben’s family?”

I tipped my beer to him. “More power to her.”

“Seriously? Th

en I take it you won’t be running to

Doug with the news he’s a grandfather?”

“Fuck off .”

Kevin grinned. “I’m just saying . . .”

“You’re talking out your ass trying to piss me off so I’ll stop bawling.”

“Hate to tell you, babe, but it’s working.”

True. My eyes were dry, even when my head spun, a combination of tequila and a merry-go-round of what-ifs. I rested my head in the couch cushions and closed my eyes. “Th

anks.”

“Anytime.”

I needed to stop fi xating on Abita and Jericho. My mind wandered. Oh joy. Th

e other disturbing events

pushed to the forefront. “Kev, what do you think was in that hole at the Everett place?”

“Doesn’t matter. Our main concern is getting the tape from Sheriff Richards and turning it over to Rushmore West so we can get paid.”

“Th

at’s it? You’re not the least bit curious?”

“Only in that it’ll prove we weren’t at fault for his death.”

54

I lifted my head and stared at him. “You used to love to fi gure out shit like this. What happened?”

“Serious, real life, pay-the-bills shit happened.” He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “I hate to bring this up. I know tomorrow is Saturday and we’ve both been putting in a ton of hours, but we need to clear our desks before next week. In the next ten days Greater Dakota Gaming is sending us a huge roster of potential employees for their California operation.”

Ninety percent of our business involved fi nding information for companies on potential employees, part-nerships, verifying employment histories. Boring as that might sound, it kept us busy as bees and in the black.

“I thought they had an investigative fi rm in LA who handled that end of things.”

“Evidently we’re considerably cheaper so they’re out-sourcing to us. Could be slim pickin’s in the next few months so we need to hedge our bets and pad our bank account.”

“Th

ey give you a timeframe?”

“As soon as possible.”

No complaint from me. My salary as a fulltime PI more than paid my bills. It wasn’t like I’d had much of a social life in the last two months anyway.

Kevin shrugged into his jacket. “I’ve got meetings with three new potential clients in the next week. I 55

wanted to make sure we’re caught up fi rst.”

“I’ll hold down the fort while you’re out schmoozing.”

“You gonna be okay tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m wiped. Since we’re working tomorrow I’ll probably just go to bed.” Alone. It’d be nice to have the distraction of a warm body next to me.

Kevin read my transparent thoughts. “Any idea when Martinez will be back?”

I shook my head.

“Call me if you need anything. See you in the morning.”

I set my home alarm system and indulged in a long, hot shower. After self-medicating myself with more tequila, I crawled in bed and fell into a surprisingly dreamless sleep.

M M M

Th

e next morning line two rang, which meant Kevin was on line one.

“Wells/Collins Investigations. How may I help you?”

Cough cough
. “I’m lookin’ for Julie Collins,” the female slurred.

I couldn’t identify the voice. “Th

is is Julie.”

“Don’t sound like you.”

“Who’s this?”

56

“June.” I heard her exhale, or rather, hack up a lung.

“June Everett.”

God. I needed to quit smoking. June wasn’t that much older than me. How long before my voice became that raspy wheeze?

“Hey, June. How are you doing?”

“Shitty.” A couple of loud sniff s.

“What can I do for you?”

“Got to thinking and realized I never said thanks to you. For yesterday. When Lang . . .” A rumbling laugh. “Can’t even make myself say it. You didn’t feed me a buncha bullshit ’bout why you was really out here.

I ’preciate it.”

What the hell was I supposed to say? “You’re welcome?”

Another gravelly laugh dragged into silence.

“June? Is there anything else?”

She sighed. “Yeah. I was feelin’ guilty that I didn’t tell the cops everything yesterday.”

“Whoa. Stop right there. I’m obligated to report anything you tell me.”

“I know.”

A snick of a carbonated can echoed in my ear. My gaze traveled to the hand-painted saw blade clock on the wall—a birthday gift from my pawn shop owning, weapons dealing, half-psycho friend Jimmer. Was June sucking down a couple of cold ones? At 10:00 in the morning?

57

Granted, it was a Saturday. “June, are you drinking?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

No self-righteous answer tumbled from my mouth.

“I miss him,” she said softly.

I
so
did not want to deal with this. “What is it you want to tell me?”

“It’s ’bout the hole that killed Lang. Remember I said I didn’t know why it was there? You looked at me funny, like you knew I was lyin’. And I was.”
Slurp
slurp
. “Lyin’, that is.”

Dealing with a drunken, grieving woman wasn’t an auspicious start to my workday. Yet, something had bothered me about the sudden appearance of that hole and why Lang hadn’t known it was there.

“Why did you lie?”

“Trying to cover our asses. Now that Lang is dead it don’t seem so important.” She coughed. “So despite my constant drunken state in the last twelve hours, I’m confused on why someone would go diggin’ that up again.”

I counted to ten. “Digging what up?”

“Th

em bones that was buried there.”

“What?”

“Human bones were buried on that ridge. We didn’t know what to do with ’em, so we sort of covered ’em back up and . . .” She sniff ed. “Lang wanted to call the cops.

None of the rest of us did. Th

ought we’d wait and see

58

what happened. And look what happened. My husband is dead.”

My brain had gotten stuck on the word
bones.

“Can you come out here? And I’ll tell you everything before we go talk to the sheriff ? You seemed to know him.”

“I worked for him for three years,” I said absentmindedly, thinking about bones and who she’d meant by the
rest of us
.

June made that chuckle-cough-growl sound again.

“Well, your partner is a might easier on the eyes than Richards. Don’t blame you for switchin’ jobs.”

A natural reaction to Kevin. Sometimes I forgot he was such a head-turner. I didn’t see his face anymore as much as his soul. “June, I’m not sure about this.” Might be selfi sh, but I did not want to spend my one day off with June Everett.

“It don’t have to be today. Don’t even have to be tomorrow. I gotta go to the funeral home later this afternoon. Probably won’t be fi t for company until Monday at least.”

I didn’t understand why she’d mourn a man who beat her, still I didn’t envy her the task of picking out a casket. Selecting hymns. Writing an obituary. Choos-ing his burial clothes. Before I’d thought it through, I said, “You’re not going alone, are you?”

59

“Nah. My brother Jeff said he’d go with me. He ain’t exactly thrilled ’cause he thought Lang coulda treated me better . . . well, I know Lang wasn’t perfect. We had our problems.”

“Like?” fell from my mouth before I could stop it.

“Usual guy-type stuff . Same as every man I know—

he had a thing for titty bars and porn. Stayed out too late and lied about where he’d been. Drank too much.

But in some ways, he was the most honest man I’d ever known. He didn’t hold back nothin’.”

Including his fl ying fi sts.

Uncomfortable silence. “Guess that’s a little too much information. Shit, someone’s at the door. See you guys Monday afternoon.” And she hung up.

Her phone call left me so frazzled I contemplated switching from coff ee to tequila. But when I saw the towering stack of folders on the corner of my desk, I knew there’d be no numbing nip in my future.

Kevin strolled in. “You want to get a quick bite before the lunch crowd hits?”

“Where you thinking?”

“Tally’s.”

Tally’s is an institution in downtown Rapid City

—an old-fashioned café with a menu chockfull of home-made comfort foods. Kevin and I had eaten there a lot in the last few months.

60

“Tally’s sounds great.” I stood. “I can fi ll you in on my phone call from June Everett.”

He groaned and helped me put on my leather coat.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not.”

61

Even dog-tired, I shot awake when he slipped into my bed.

Glad I’d slept naked.

He layered his smooth, hard body to mine from calves to thighs. Warm lips brushed my bare shoulder, sending a spine-tingling shiver through me. He draped his arm over my waist and spread his large hand fl at on my belly to pull me fl ush against him.

I attempted to roll over to steep myself in his scent.

His heat. To make sure he really was here and not just another damn dream. He tightened his hold, keeping me close, but keeping me in place.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He nuzzled the back of my head. “Go back to sleep.”

I scooted into him and fl oated away.

62

M M M

Callused fi ngertips danced up the outside of my thigh.

Insistent kisses tracked the curve of my neck.

I sighed. Shivered. Stretched. Opened my eyes.

Ribbons of pale pink light streamed through the blinds.

And those clever, clever fi ngers moved higher.

My blood heated.

I turned my head and caught his mouth with mine.

Kissed him until his soft, slow breathing became hard and fast.

We rolled. He ended up on top.

Impatient, he swept the pillows to the fl oor.

I kicked away the quilt, the sheet, the blankets and everything else.

He clasped our hands together and slid them across the fl annel sheets and up above my head. He held them there. Watching my eyes, he lowered his face until I couldn’t see anything but him. Couldn’t feel anything but him. Th

en he covered my lips with his and I was lost.

My legs parted and hooked his hips.

He drove inside me.

I arched off the bed, breaking the kiss on a gasp.

“Jesus, you’re good at that, Martinez.”

63

His low rumbling chuckle reverberated though us both. Warm breath teased my ear as he whispered,

“Missed you,” and proceeded to show me just how much.

M M M

Coff ee brewed while he showered. I gazed out the back door at the frost sparkling in the fi eld behind my house.

A fl ock of turkeys pecked the hard ground; tan and gray feathers fl ew as they fought for bits of nothing.

Th

e weather had changed. Seemed like a lot had changed in the endless days Martinez had been gone.