Undercover (5 page)

"Thanks, Derrick. I'm lucky you came along when you did."

"No problem. When was the last time you changed the oil in this thing?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure it's due for one." She couldn't tell him that the car didn't belong to her or that she'd only been driving it since taking on this assignment. "I'm not one of those girls that don’t take care of their vehicles."

He cocked his head to the side, his lips curved up. "Why don't you bring the car into the shop tomorrow morning? I'll change the oil and give her a thorough checkup."

"I can do that." She tried to think of something more to say, not wanting to let him walk away. "Can I buy you dinner or something? You've had a long day. You must be hungry."

He hesitated long enough for her to know he considered the offer. His eyes skimmed over her, making her feel conspicuous in blue jean shorts and a white tank top over her bikini.

He cleared his throat. "I should get home." He backed up a few steps and she knew her high school status killed her chances. "But thanks for the offer. I'll see you tomorrow."

****

Showing up at Derrick's body shop in a tow truck, her lame car attached behind, was not how Erica imagined things when she'd taken special care in getting ready that morning. But when the damn thing wouldn't start, she'd had no choice but to have it towed. Morning passed into mid afternoon by the time they pulled into the crowded repair lot.

She watched Derrick withdraw from under the hood of a car at the sound of the tow truck’s shifting gears. He wiped his hands on a towel that looked too dirty to do much good as he walked toward them. Another man, who had been looking under the hood as well, stayed back and leaned against the car to watch. Jumping down from the truck, Erica tried to place where she’d seen the other man before, but nothing came to mind.

"Hey, Phil. How's it going?" Derrick called to the driver and owner of Phil's Towing.

"Hot," the gruff, overweight man barked. "Where do you want this one?"

"Right there is fine." Derrick turned to Erica. "Bad to worse, huh?"

"I hope you don't mind I had him bring it here."

"No, not at all," he said over the grinding of the wench that lowered the car off the flatbed of the truck. "I'll pay Phil for the tow and add the charge to your bill, if you want. That way you’ve got one invoice instead of two."

"Sounds good.”

Derrick, with Phil’s help, got her car situated in front of one of the three large retractable doors leading into the shop. He turned to Erica as Phil drove away. "Come on into the waiting room while I finish up with Hufferman and then I'll get to work on your car."

Erica now knew why she recognized the other man. Henarez Hufferman, the leader of the Mercenaries. While a bit shorter than his younger brother, the resemblance in the face between Huff and Henarez was remarkable.

She followed behind Derrick and smiled at Henarez as they approached.

Derrick would have walked right past but Henarez had other ideas. "Introduce me to your friend, Derrick."

"Sorry,” Derrick mumbled. The muscle jumping along his jaw as he clenched his teeth together intrigued Erica. She struggled to pull her eyes away from him as he made the introductions.  “Erica, this is Henarez Hufferman. Henarez, Erica..."

"Salinas," Erica supplied, along with her hand.

"It's always a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman."

"Thank you." She turned up the watt of her smile and let him keep hold of her hand despite the way it made her skin crawl. "I think I’ve met your brother."

"How do you know him?"

"We go to the same high school."

Henarez's head jerked back and Erica swore she heard a short snort of satisfaction come from Derrick. "Oh, well, hell. You'll be eighteen soon, right?"

"You got that right."

Derrick grunted. Erica looked at him in surprise and bit back a giggled at the thought that he might be jealous.

“I've got work to do." He mumbled yet again and headed inside.

Erica shrugged her shoulders at Henarez, but followed Derrick into the cooler confines of the waiting room.

He motioned for her to take a seat while he went behind the counter. "Help yourself to a pop." He unlocked a cabinet below the cash register and pulled out a thick manila envelop. By the shape and size, she knew it was money. "I'll be right back,” he said as he headed outside.

She watched through the window as Derrick handed Henarez the envelop. Derrick let down the hood of the car they’d been under earlier and the two men exchanged a few words. Erica couldn't tell the mood of the conversation but unease curled in her stomach. Was it possible both the Moreno brothers were involved in drug dealing? She tried to reject the notion, but she couldn’t ignore the facts staring her in the face.

After Henarez left, Derrick maneuvered her car inside and over the pit. Erica was too curious to sit in the waiting room doing nothing, so she ventured out into the shop. The smell of grease and exhaust permeated the air, sharing space with the deep pulse of hard rock streaming from the surround sound stereo speakers. He had good taste.

The bottom half of his legs stuck out from beneath her car. She squatted down to see what he was doing. He did something, releasing a stream of oil into an oil pan. He wheeled out on his creeper, wiping his hands on his handy towel.

"So, are you and Henarez good friends?" Erica asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

With a terse glance, he pushed to his feet and sent the creeper rolling across the floor and out of his way. He leaned in under the hood and began checking things. “Why, you want his number?”

He
is
jealous, she thought. Hoped. "No. Just asking a question." She bit the inside of her cheek, appreciating the way his jeans pulled across his backside.

"I've known him a long time. We grew up together."

She waited until it became obvious he wasn't going to volunteer more information. "But you were on the path to college and he wasn't."

"Something like that."

And since Derrick’s path met with an abrupt end, as did his source of income, she had to wonder if dealing drugs didn’t help make ends meet.

Grant it, she hadn’t spent a lot of time with Derrick, but the quiet, sullen mood seemed out of character for him. “Have I done or said something to upset you?”

His hand froze in the process of pulling the cap off the container holding windshield wiper fluid. It was then that she spotted the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. The letter “M”, faded but an unmistakable symbol. Her heart sank and then ricocheted back against her chest. Her hand flew to her mouth to stop the gasp. He was one of them. Her brain resisted, insisting he was too good of a man to be a part of a gang. It didn’t fit. And if he were, wouldn’t Joey be as well? There would be no reason for him to hold out. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

Derrick turned his head, looking over his arm at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but saw the look in his brown eyes soften. Then he lowered his head. “No. Of course not. I’m sorry. It’s not you.”

Her brain took a minute to catch up with the conversation. If his bad mood wasn’t because of her, then what, she wondered. Guilt over his dealings with Henarez? She wanted to believe Derrick was honorable. If he was involved in wrongdoing and felt guilty over it, well then that was forgivable, right? Maybe not forgivable by law, but by her.

Not that it mattered, she conceded. She would never see him again once this assignment was over. A hazard or perk of the job, depending on the circumstances. Plus, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her when he realized why she'd been hanging around, especially if it resulted in him or his brother going to jail.

What the hell was she doing here? But she did nothing to make herself leave.

“Is everything okay? I’m a good listener.” She smiled, trying to force everything else out of her mind.

He straightened, turned toward her, leaning his hip against the grill. “I guess I’m a little protective where you’re concerned, because of Joey, and I didn’t like the way Henarez looked at you.”

“I see.” She pondered her next words. “I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. I’m not interested in someone like Henarez, but he did make a good point.”

“Yeah, and what point is that?”

“My birthday is right around the corner.” She saw the way his breath caught. "I won't be seventeen much longer."

He cleared his throat and became very intent on fixing the car.

When it became obvious, once again, that words were not going to come, she changed the subject, letting him off the hook.

“So why doesn’t Joey come in on the weekends and help out around here?”

“He doesn’t need to be in here working. He has plenty going on with schoolwork and I would rather he be studying than in here wasting his time.”

“I don’t think he would consider working here a waste of time. Besides, I doubt he spent this afternoon studying,” she said drifting around the shop, taking in everything without touching. Most of the items looked dirty or greasy. The smells she recognized from Derrick were they clung to his clothes, seeped into his pores, were a part of his scent. “Has Joey told you what he wants to major in when he goes to college?”

He glanced up from his work. “No.” She let the silence linger. “Has he told you?” Derrick finally asked, keeping his eyes on her face. Worry creased his brow.

“He never talks about it. Are you sure he even wants to go to college? Have you ever asked him?” she asked, crossing a line she knew she shouldn’t cross. Their personal lives and anything outside the scope of her assignment were none of her business. Counseling was not part of the job description. But if she could help them in some way, what harm could there be in that?

“Of course he’s going to college. That’s been the plan all along. He would have told me if he didn't want to go.” Derrick stuck his head back under the hood, like an ostrich utilized sand. The dismissive tone of his voice let her know how absurd her question was.

****

Derrick studied the invoice he’d worked up with the name Erica Salinas written across the top. He hadn’t even known her last name until today. He’d fantasized about her, dreamt about her, waking up feeling like a dirty old man, yet he hadn't known her last name.

It fit her. Exotic. Classy. She was so damn mature for seventeen, he thought, trying to justify why he kept forgetting. She’d hung around the shop all afternoon while he'd worked on her car and they’d ordered pizza when five o’clock rolled around. Even after eating, she’d stayed, helping him clean up and talking as if they had known each other their entire lives.

He liked her. And not just her looks. She was smart, easy to be around and intelligent. She found politics and history as interesting as he did, and he’d been intrigued with her knowledge and ability to discuss current events.

Blowing out a long breath, he rubbed his hand down his face. He was half in love with her already and the knowledge damn near brought him to his knees.

****

Tuesday of the following week brought much needed rain and a restlessness that ran rapid through the school halls. Teachers struggled to quiet classrooms at the start of each lesson and a couple fights broke out in the hall between bells.

Erica didn't know if it was boredom or a sense of something bad to come, or simply her own fowl mood, but she couldn't relax. Joey remained distant and it hurt more than she cared to admit, from a professional and personal standpoint. If he knew the truth, he would be thanking her.

Stopping by her locker, Erica exchanged books for her next class. Slamming the flimsy metal door closed, she turned to find Huff in her space. He placed his hand against the locker at her head.

"I hear you met my brother."

She leaned back against the locker as if comfortable with his closeness, when in reality she’d positioned herself to kick the boy's gonads into his throat if the need arose. "Yeah, at Moreno’s Repair Shop."

"You made an impression, but I'm not surprised. You should come hang with us after school."

She let a slow smile spread over her lips, looking up through half lowered lashes. "Is that an invite from you or from your brother?"

"From me."

"Good to know."

He smiled, bobbed his head in satisfaction with her answer, and swaggered off down the hall with his boys in tow.

Letting out a shaky breath, she headed down the hall wondering if Joey would be at Huff’s. Not that it matter, either way she would be there doing her job.

Gym was her last class of the day, a class she considered a waste of time. She’d thought so when she'd been in school for real years ago and nothing had changed her mind since. At the end of class, Erica filed into the locker room with the other girls to change. Things got a little rowdy ahead of her and as the other girls moved off, she spotted the cause of the disruption. Next to the locker where she'd hung her clothes, a metal trashcan sat with flames shooting out the top. Her locker door was open and the inside empty.