Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (10 page)

"Urrgh!" I shook my head and clicked on
Lucas
' email, opening the first file, bringing up Tate's financial records and a background check. How
Lucas
got this stuff, I did not know. Wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Tate's financials spanned a year and were clean, as far as I could see. He got his paycheck and it went out on the usual things. There was no rent to pay or utilities. He had a savings account that he put a chunk into every month, and a life insurance policy. There were some cash withdrawals, which I didn't think were unusual, given that he was a young, apparently single
,
man. I checked the dates against the calendar on my cell phone. The cash was usually taken out close to a weekend. A couple
of
restaurant bills, an online bookstore, music downloads, an auto body shop that seemed around the price for a regular service, and that was it. I surmised that Tate probably liked to go out drinking on the weekend , that he had a healthy attitude towards his future, given his savings, and a sensible streak, given the insurance policy. I also figured he might have a girlfriend, or a date or two, owing to the restaurant bills over the past couple of months.

The background check
should have answered the girlfriend question, but it didn't. Instead, there was a simple work-up of paper statistics: where Tate was born, his family members, his education and his service record in the Army so far. On paper, Tate wasn't an academic, had plenty of friends, a bunch of athletic awards, some success in boxing and later in martial arts too. He was a gym rat who was nice looking with clear, black skin, a broad nose and a buzz cut. If I saw him on the street, I would find him attractive.

I made a note to find out who the girlfriend was, if she existed
at all,
as well as to check out where Tate preferred to drink.
Perhaps his drinking buddies had heard him talk about Jillian?

Next, I called Jillian's file, this time starting with her background check. Jillian was smart, but not quite smart enough to earn scholarships. She skipped college at age eighteen, going to work instead and intending to pick up the degree later. Her fam
ily wasn't well off; and I got the
inkling that starting her life with huge education loans wasn't appealing. These were bread and butter types. They grafted, paid their bills, and owed no one a debt. I already knew that the sister worked on base. She was two years younger than Jillian and her name was Roxanne.

Despite, or maybe because of her family, Jillian was very ambitious and had taken a bunch of courses at her local college. She was close to getting a degree, bought and paid for. She lived alone, and like I already knew, didn't have a husband or kids.

She was smart and pretty. Unless she was so entirely focused on her future that she had no time for a boyfriend, I figured there had to be one somewhere. Tate was listed as a previous date, along with another serviceman. He had apparently transferred to another base a year ago.

Closing the file, I checked her financial information. Along with the average outgoings, this time
including
an apartment and utilities, there were regular payments for her courses, a book and stationery shop
,
and groceries. Her outgoings were average, frugal even, but her income was something else. Along with Jillian's wages, several large deposits had recently been made into her account. I looked back through the preceding months, noting the figures on a notepad.

In all, Jillian had received payments totaling one hundred thousand dollars. I couldn't fathom what she could possibly be doing to receive that kind of money. Solomon would definitely call that much money a red flag.

I fired off an email, asking
Lucas
for a cursory background check on the other man
from Jillian’s history
. I just wanted to find out if he was still out of town, and do a back trace on the money in Jillian's account. I also asked
Lucas
to see if he could find evidence of a girlfriend in Tate's present or recent history. I didn't ask, but I assumed he would simply hack Tate's email account.
Someday, he would probably show me how he got his information, and then I’d have to think about how far I would go for this job.

Noticing the time, I powered the laptop down and tucked it away. Then I went in search of Solomon.

The gym was housed in a large gray building. It was unattractive, utilitarian, and completely unlike the fancy-pants gym Lily and I
frequented
. Instead of banks of high-tech equipment, glass walls, and pumping rhythms, it had a rundown
atmosphere
, derived from the notices peeling
off the lobby walls
to the beige monotony of the main gym. I walked past an empty reception desk, following the sounds of grunts and muffled instructions to a room peppered with practice mats. I slipped inside just in time to see Solomon finishing up a sparring session. He was smoothly swiping his leg around the back of his opponent's knees, sliding his legs out from under him. He'd stripped down to shorts and an armless t-shirt, and his forehead showed beads of sweat. He reached a hand down, pulled the other man up, and clapped him on the back, sending him back to the side. He didn't seem to notice me as he walked to the opposite edge of the mats, leaned down to grab his water bottle, and took a swallow before turning back to his small group.

I sat on the
wooden floor with my back against the wall and watched Solomon demonstrate a series of parries before inviting one of the buff men sitting around the mat to join him on the floor.

Solomon's new opponent dropped into a fighting stance, bent knees and fists raised, dancing around for a moment before flying at him.
Solomon sidestepped, delivering
an upper cut as he simultaneously twisted and kneed the man in the stomach, dropping him to the ground with a grunt.
A broad blond man laughed. I looked twice. Not Derrick from the bar. Phew!

"Pay attention,"
Solomon
told the group,
circling to look at each of them,
"and that won't happen to you. Take it slow and easy." He waited for the man to get up, demonstrated what he did wrong and invited him to try a second time. This time, the man took it slower, circling and landing a blow before Solomon laid him out cleanly. The man shook his head as he sat up a
nd planted his feet into the mat
, shoving himself backwards to the edge. "Good work," Solomon told him. "That's it for tonight. Same tomorrow," he said as his eyes met mine and he grinned. He shook a couple of hands and took a clap on the back before bypassing them to make his way towards me.

I got to my feet and dusted my jeans, smiling as he approached. "Hey. That was... oh!" I just had time to squeak before Solomon wrapped his arms around me, lifting me a couple of inches off the floor and catching my mouth with his.

I wouldn't call it a friendly, just for cover kiss.

It was
hungry
.

His mouth covered mine, and as my lips parted in surprise, his tongue slipped in to tangle with mine. When I didn't push him back, his arms tightened and the kiss softened
until he gently nibbled my lower lip
. I slid my arms around his waist and lost myself in his touch, his taste, as he held me tight.

A polite cough sounded from behind Solomon's back.

"Mmm," he said, pulling back and licking his lips. His pupils dilated slightly, like chocolate puddles that smoldered at me through half-closed eyes. "Could get used to that."

"Put me down," I whispered breathlessly.

Solomon looked down, laughing and set me on my feet, turning to greet the man behind us. But whoever it was had already turned his back and gone.
It appeared that t
he rest of the class had also either disappeared or were discreetly ignoring us as they passed through the swinging doors to the hallway where I'd entered. I was just g
lad one or two lingered, practic
ing with each other, ensuring things couldn't get any
more heated.

Or maybe
I regretted them staying.

For a moment, my head was in a fuzz and I wasn't sure whether I felt relieved or disappointed. Or just confused. Where did all my resolve go?

"Nice of you to come by," he said.

"I figured you were getting off."
Solomon arched an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes and swatted his arm. "Shut up. I have news. Nothing overly exciting," I added hastily, in case he thought I'd cracked the case while he beat up his class.

"Hold the thought. Let me grab my bag and we'll walk back to the apartment." I made to follow him and he laughed again. His hands went to my shoulders and he turned me towards the doors. "Wait for me in reception. The men's locker room is no place for you."

"Spoilsport," I said
with huff,
turni
ng to wait for him
in the reception area
.

Ten
minutes later, Solomon
appeared beside me in the lobby, showered and changed into jeans and a fresh t-shirt
, the blond man I’d noticed earlier at his side.

“Later, Somper,” he called, slapping the man on the shoulder as he reached to grab
my hand, leading me outside.
“That’s my boss,” he explained as the man slung his gym bag into the trunk of his car. “He manages the gym. Known Tate for years,” he added in a quieter voice.
We walked back the whole way hand
-
in
-
hand, and it occurred to me that maybe now was a very good time to come clean about Maddox
. I decided to spill the whole caboodle before he found out from someone else,
like the entire MPD,
seeing as the whole town would know within the next few days
. Except I couldn't put what I felt into words while he held my hand like a lover.

On the other hand, maybe Solomon was just really good at playing the undercover husband. It would hardly appear unnatural for us to walk around hand-in-hand. That didn't exactly explain the way he stroked his thumb over the hollow of skin between my thumb and forefinger. No one could see that, but, oh boy, could I feel it! I
t sent shivers through me, shivers that ended in little flutters in my stomach.

As we walked, I filled Solomon in on the background checks and the strange
deposits in Jillian's account
, rather than my Maddox issue
.

"What do you surmise from that?" he asked.

I glanced over at the buildings we passed, trying to identify our b
uilding
from the identikit structures. "I think we need to know where the money came from. Maybe that was what got Jillian in trouble."

Solomon nodded towards a
building, drawing me across the full parking lot in front. He fished in his pocket for the keys, opening the door and holding it for me. "Get
Lucas
to trace it."

"Already on it."

"What do you make of Tate
’s file
?" he asked as we took the stairs.

"I'm not seeing crazed killer so far," I admitted, couching my summation just in case I got it wrong. "I want to check out where he drinks and if there's a girl." As we entered the apartment, I added in the other information I requested from
Lucas,
and Solomon nodded again.

"Sounds like you've got it covered." Solomon tossed his bag on the floor and walked through to the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door open and shut, then two popping sounds as he returned with cold beers.

"There's one more thing," I said.

"Yeah?"

"I think one of us should go talk to Jillian's sister
soon
. Maybe they were close."

Solomon nodded. "See if you can get a lead on her. Lexi...?" His face was contemplative.

"Um?" I swallowed.

"You and Maddox really over?" he asked, surprising me. I wondered what sparked that thought. Was it something he'd thought about from earlier? Or did the kiss make him wonder?
Was that
why
he kissed me?
It was hard enough for me to keep the kiss straight from the work I tried to focus on. I couldn't ima
gine Solomon being swayed by it alone, delicious as
it was.

"Maddox and I," I started, pausing, suddenly uncertain. Solomon was a man of his word and he respected boundaries, especially where I was concerned. Boundaries I'd kept firmly in place, since I was strictly on the no overlapping school of thought, unlike some other people I could think of. There were other boundaries too. That he was my boss was a big one,
the biggest one,
especially as I finally had a job I was good at. And not just good, but liked. Enjoyed. Looked forward to. Another big caution floating over his head was that I wasn't entirely sure what Solomon’s intentions were regarding me.

My first impression of him, some time ago now, was that he would be an indent on the pillow in the morning. At the time, I wasn't looking for that. It was possible my opinion might have been entirely wrong, since I'd never asked, but it was a hard one to shake. Oh, what the hell. This wasn't about him and me, past, present or future. Maybe it was simply because I had no one else to talk to, maybe it simply
was
Solomon being a friend as well as a boss.