Someone Bad and Something Blue (9 page)

Justus chuckled. “But why? Alcohol is legal now.”

“True, but making shine goes back generations and some folks don't want to pay the high state tax to buy alcohol.”

“Or not be able to buy alcohol on Sunday unless you're in here or in a restaurant,” Sean chimed in. “Let's not forget to mention how dangerous some of that lightning is. I heard some of them cut it with bleach instead of water.”

My nose turned up at the thought of drinking bleach. “Either way, she's probably upstate helping her family. But she never stays for long and she never misses her court dates.”

“A U.S. marshal by the name of Max has been looking for her. He came by Elaine's office to ask me about her. Elaine's?! Can you believe that? It was embarrassing to say the least.” He took a swig from his glass of brandy. “If I don't find this girl, he'll come back and I don't need that kind of bad color tainting Elaine's public image.”

I gave Sean the side eye. The only person's image he was concerned about was his, not Elaine's. He had to come up with something better than this to convince me to help him.

“I know what you're thinking.” He looked at me, then at Justus, then back at me. “How do my dealings with Rosary DiChristina hurt Elaine?”

“That is the magic question.”

He looked around the pub, leaned closer to us, and whispered, “Elaine asked me to bail Rosary out of jail.”

“I don't believe you.” I scoffed. “Why would she do that? That's not like her.”

Justus touched my hand. “Let's just hear him out.”

I felt my neck turn in that no-you-didn't sort of way, but caught myself. Crap. I must be in love with Justus Morgan to let him tell me what to do.

“Elaine makes bail for her special constituents. In my opinion, she's too sweet for her own good.”

“Is that why your name is on so many bail contracts at Tiger's?” I asked.

Sean grinned. “We couldn't have Elaine's name tied to all that foolery. Now could we?”

“Well, that explains a lot.”

“Of course, I didn't expect the kindergarten playground fight between you and Avery when we made bail for her. Now you have me in a pretty pickle.”

“How so?”

“Tiger has had Riddick's team and those Big Bad Boys out looking for her for two days and they can't seem to find her. I don't think they ever will, but you can.”

“No, I can't either. I'm on vacation with express orders from Tiger to stay out of Riddick's way.”

Sean opened the notebook and handed me a small manila folder. I looked inside, counted, and gasped.

I looked up at Sean. “There's $25,000 in cash in here.”

“If you bring Rosie to me by next Friday, I'll hand you another twenty-five.”

I closed the envelope and gave it back to him. “I'm sorry. I promised Elaine that I would take Lana to the Running of the Brides on Friday.”

“Elaine said you would be hard to convince.” He reached into the envelope and pulled out another envelope. “There's a $10,000 incentive inside.”

“Elaine knows about this?”

“Elaine knows everything.” He took another drink. “I know about your problem with Riddick and you know that Riddick is my friend. But you and I both know that friendship and business don't mix.”

Sean looked at Justus and grinned. “Except for you two, of course. Y'all have something special.”

“Don't go there, Sean,” I said.

“Just trying to lighten the mood of the room.” He chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Seriously, I need that marshal off my back. I need Rosie. If you bring her to me, Riddick will ride her in.”

I scoffed. “No way.”

“Hear me out. If Tiger sees that the both of you have kissed and made up, then it's a win-win for everybody. Don't you agree?”

I turned to Justus; his eyes screamed, “Don't go down this dark road again.”

“Are you sure Riddick didn't ask that Marlo girl to hit me at Draft House?”

“Angel, let it go.” He chuckled.

I sighed. “That won't ever happen, but I will see what I can do about Rosary.”

“Fantastic.” Sean smiled. His face looked serene, a little too peaceful, if you ask me.

The last time I saw that expression was when Elaine had to participate in a runoff election with Sid Marcus. It was her first campaign and Sid was a shoo-in. He was synonymous with The Georgia Gentlemen's Club, a powerful PAC group whose agenda was to continue to keep Georgia minimum wage lower than the rest of the country and their banks larger than any public library in the state.

There was a lot of old money bankrolling Sid's campaign, unlike Elaine's ragtag army of middle-class, college-educated, Southern women united to change the future of our state to a more progressive and equal one for all. Consequently Sid's campaign contributors could afford to put pressure on the media and threaten to drop future advertisement dollars if they dared mention Elaine's name or her liberal causes.

While the rest of Elaine's interns—myself included—did everything but throw ourselves off roofs, Sean did his secret work and smiled with glee. Two weeks before the election, Sid dropped out the race. Said he decided he needed to devote more time to his family.

Years later, after I had been working at
The Sentinel
, the truth of Sid's forfeiture came out. Sean had learned that Sid had a mistress living in Peach County, Middle Georgia. She was a beautiful Mexican migrant worker who once pulled rotten peaches out the carriers on Sid's brother-in-law's peach orchards near Fort Valley. Now she ran a bed-and-breakfast near Hazelhurst with two teenaged sons, one a dead ringer for a young, tanned Sid on holiday.

How Sean found that information back then I had no clue. However, now I suspect that the many folks he had bailed out of jail all these years returned the favor to him in the best way they knew how . . . with what they knew.

“Sean, are you sure there isn't more to this than you're letting on?” I observed his face for any more tells.

“After all these years you still don't know me.” He smirked, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigar.

Justus reached in his breast pocket and pulled out a gold lighter.

I frowned at Justus. “You smoke?”

“No . . .” He flipped a flame and lit Sean's cigar with it. “But I have enough common sense to bring a lighter to a cigarette bar.”

Sean inhaled his potion and chuckled. “Y'all are absolutely adorable.”

I threw back my mocktini and gulped. “Now I really need a stiff drink.” I raised my hand for the waiter to return.

 

J
ustus didn't allow me time to strap myself into the seat belt before he gave me his two, three, and four cents about my meeting with Sean.

“I'm thankful that you let me tag along with you tonight. I hope that this big step forward also includes me being able to share my thoughts about what just happened in there,” he said.

“Share away, just as long as you turn the heat on. It's cold in here.”

He chuckled, turned the ignition, and drove us out of there. However, he didn't say another word until we were well on I-85 North toward home.

“Although I've only spent about two hours with Sean, I think the guy isn't telling you the entire story. Tiger has more than enough agents searching for your friend.”

“I agree.”

He coughed. “You do? Then why did you take the money?”

“The money in my purse isn't contingent upon me finding Rosary DiChristina. It's an incentive. Now if I bring her in, then I get another twenty-five thou.” I leaned my head back.

“So you have no intention of looking for Rosie?”

“A little. I don't know . . .” I closed my eyes. “I'm curious why the best recovery agents in Atlanta can't find a drunk, dark-haired hoochie with bright blue eyes. She's hard to miss.”

“I'm curious that your speakeasy pal wants you to search for a known bootlegger.” He chuckled. “I feel like we walked through a wormhole or the fourth dimension tonight.”

“Wow. I didn't know you were such a science geek.”

“Not really. But don't you think Sean insulted your intelligence? He wants you to believe that finding Rosie helps Elaine when clearly finding her—or her private stash—helps him.”

“That's exactly why I kept that money. I might be stupid, but I'm not dumb.”

He laughed. “Somehow I understand exactly what you mean.”

I chuckled with him until I got this brilliant idea.

“Justus?” I opened my eyes and sat up. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Probably not.” He glanced at me, then back to the road. “I'm sure I'm not, and batting your eyes at me will not convince me other wise.”

“But it's a good idea.”

“No, it's a crazy, you-haven't-learned-the-last-time idea.”

“But I can't do this without you,” I whined.

“And that's exactly why your idea is a crazy one, because there is no reason why I should be involved.”

“Just hear me out.” I shifted my body toward him in the seat. “I promised Bella an afternoon movie Friday. No sitter for Saturday, got church on Sunday, school field trip on Monday, and the next two weeks are filled with PI training and pretending to be on vacation. Tonight is my only night to bop over to Amicalola Falls and snatch Rosie out the woods without Tiger being the wiser.”

“Snatching someone out the North Georgia Mountains is a clear indicator that you've been out way past your bedtime.” He shook his head. “Give it a rest, Angel.”

“I'll split the money with you.”

“Don't want it. You know better than that.”

“Fine.” I huffed and plopped back in the passenger seat. “I'll go by myself.”

“Angel, don't be foolish,” he said while turning into my subdivision.

“ ‘And wisdom was taken from the prophets and given unto fools.' ”

“You can't use the Bible to fit your agenda like that.”

“I know, but everybody else does it.” I unzipped my purse and located my garage remote.

He pulled into my driveway and didn't say anything for a while. The tension in the car was so thick it made my knees shake.

Justus took my hand and placed it over his heart. “Angel, don't go anywhere else tonight. Stay here, please. I'll do anything, if you just stay.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” He nodded.

His new haircut made him look more handsome than before and made it way too hard for me to hide my attraction from him. I ran my hands around his nape. He closed his eyes and groaned. It felt fuzzy and I could run my fingers through it. A sliver of silver peeked just above his temple. It complemented the sparkle his eyes gave off when he was either happy or angry with me. When he opened them again, the glow shimmered, but he wasn't happy. He was dead serious.

“If Rosary doesn't turn up by this Thursday afternoon, will you go with me to get her?”

“And if she's not there? Then what?”

“Then it's over. Deadline missed. Besides, I have Running of the Brides Friday morning.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Justus, don't take this the wrong way, but you're right.”

He scoffed. “Okay . . .”

“I'm going to hang back and let the dust settle this time. Like Mom often says, ‘The truth is like a man caught with his pants down. Eventually the truth will come up.' ”

 

B
ella's class field trip at the Georgia State Capitol went off without a hitch. The kids oohed and aahed and then cried for their mommies. I thought of Elaine while we were there. I had planned to call her to confirm her knowledge of the $25,000 Sean Graham had given me to find Rosary. But I took the high road and spent the weekend with my daughter, my family, and Justus. Tiger had paid me to rest and I did just that. Shoot. I made Bella take a nap, too.

I had just lowered myself into a warm lavender oil bath when my doorbell rang. If I hadn't just gotten Bella down for a few winks, I would have let it ring until Calgon took me away. I stepped out, threw on my robe, and stomped downstairs.

When I saw Ava standing on my porch wearing a floor-length white fur coat, black sunglasses, and a Jackie O wig, I knew my vacation had taken a turn. She held papers in her hand.

“What happened in my class, Ava, and what are you holding?”

Silence, except for the sound of papers flitting between her hands. Not good.

“Ava, don't make me drop-kick you off my porch.”

“You'll get arrested, and tighten your robe.”

“I'll get arrested for more than that if you don't answer my question.”

Still silence.

“I don't know how to tell you this, but you've been expelled. The instructor is very good, by the way. He knew who I was and that I wasn't you before I warmed your seat.” She lowered her head and sighed.

“Stop. Reverse. What do you mean ‘expelled'?”

“I tried my best to speak on your behalf, but this guy wouldn't budge and I can't understand why, since he wasn't your actual instructor. He was a substitute.”

I closed my eyes to keep my body from boiling with anger.

“Are you okay?” Ava touched my shoulder.

“I can't believe . . .” I backed away from her and painted on a smile. “Ava, thank you. Give me the notes you have and the name of this substitute. I'll take care of this.”

“But I don't think it would be wise for you to go back there. Look, it was my fault. My brilliant scheme backfired, so of course I will pay for another class. I don't want you to take this as an opportunity to quit. The class is perfect for you. I learned some very interesting things about law enforcement, private investigation, and even bail recovery. That's what you do, right?”

“Ava, stop babbling. You and that throwback outfit of yours is making my head hurt. Now come on in. You can help me with dinner and I'll tell you about my date with Justus.”

She smiled. Her guilt hadn't completely vanished from her face, but she looked better than she had a few minutes before. I escorted her into the kitchen. I suddenly felt the urge to make pancakes, something we used to eat when we felt bad.

 

 

 

Mr. Deacon West stood outside his office staring at me and chuckling as I walked toward him. I did my best not to let him see me gulp.

He extended his hand. “I'm assuming that yesterday you and your twin were my surveillance faux pas reenactments or a foolish ex-student who thought she could give me the old switcheroo. Which one is it?”

“Not the latter, but I would be lying if I agreed with the first,” I said. “The truth is I'm the real Angel Crawford. On short notice, I had to chaperone my daughter's kindergarten class field trip yesterday. My sister tried to help me out by pretending to be me. It didn't work, of course, but I hope you'll reconsider. I need this class.”

He scratched his head with his pen. “Are you always this long winded?”

“No, sir. My grandma once told me, ‘You can't hear your lesson with your mouth wide open.' ” I zipped my lips with my imaginary zipper.

He tilted his head toward the classroom. “Get in there.”

I scurried to the only available seat and did what I told Whitney to do her first day in college. Shut up, take notes, and shut up.

The class was wonderful. I could have kicked myself for not having done this kind of continuing education sooner. The only challenge I had was that I didn't have time to thank Deacon West once again for allowing me back into his class. I had about a half hour left before I picked up Bella and four of her classmates from school car pool. As a part of the city's new conservation plan, our school district created parent car-pool rings for those of us who didn't want to put our children on the bus. My scheduled date to pick up our kids was today. I cringed, because I had forgotten to vacuum the car. The only thing I had time to do was run my handheld vacuum that I kept in the trunk through the backseat before I left the parking lot.

I double-checked my watch, grabbed my backpack, and bumped into a hard chest.

A long-legged, black jeans/black cowboy boots/ black Stetson hat–wearing Adonis frowned back at me. “What do you not understand about the word ‘expelled'?”

I assumed Hot Cowboy was the substitute. “That's a conversation you had with someone else, not me.”

“I'm very aware of that.” He stepped closer.

I could smell why Old Spice cologne had made a comeback. I made a mental note to get Justus some of it for his birthday. I hope it's soon.

“Then you should be aware that the real instructor, Mr. West, allowed me a reprieve.”

His brown eyes thundered all over me. “Unc, you let this woman back in your class?”

Unc, as in uncle? I gasped.

“Yes, I did, Maxim,” Deacon yelled back. “Now leave her alone, else you got a crush.”

Maxim cleared his throat, stepped back, and lowered his hat. “My apologies, Angel.”

“Do you know me?”

“I'm aware of all annoyances in my jurisdiction, including bounty hunters.” He gave a mischievous grin. He knew we didn't like to be called bounty hunters, but I let it go.

“Your jurisdiction?” I observed him more closely until I noticed the Department of Justice's six-point star within a circular ring badge. I threw my hands on my hips and laughed.

“What's so funny?” he asked, the grin now gone.

“I think you're my marshal?”

He looked at me with a deeper frown than before and raised his eyebrow. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“A birdie told me you were looking for a Rosary DiChristina.”

He shook his head. “Birdie told you wrong. I never heard of her. Who is she?”

I hadn't been in PI class but one day and had already failed the first lesson.
Ask the right question to get the right answer.

Sean had lied about a U.S. marshal looking for Rosary. I wondered what else he had lied to me about. Unfortunately, the only person who could help me with the right answer was Rosary. I had made a promise to Justus not to search for her until Thursday. But hunting and paying her a visit were two different things. Weren't they?