Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (25 page)

"Would you like to hear about our new range of paint colors?"
Clyde produced a swatch card from his pants pocket and pressed it into my hand. It was hot. I tried to not think about why.

"Not really."

"Great!
Our new range is quick drying with no harmful odo
rs..."

"Sounds amazing." I stepped forward a
nd Clyde didn't move at all. In
stead, his eyes widened hopefully. I looked over my sho
ulder at the wall behind me—
trapped
—then
over his shoulder, where I saw my target rounding the corner of an aisle and starting up the next one. "Listen," I said to the immovable object with as much contempt as I could muster. "What do I need to do to get past you?"

Clyde thrust the clipboard at me. "Sign up for the store's email newsletter. I have to get fifty
sign-ups
by the end of today."

"Yeah? How many you got?"

"Two. Including you."

I took the pen, signed Maddox up and zipped around Clyde, trotting off at top speed. When I reached
the aisle, the two men were no
where to be seen. I jogged faster, panicking that I'd lost them, my head darting a glance into each aisle as I passed by. Amongst the towering shelves of wallpaper, lumber, paint and who knew what else, where couples and singles
lurked,
but not my two... "Oof!" I splatted
against
a
hard
body. Pressing a hand against my ribs
, I stepped back
and started to apologize
as
I looked up. "Oh, hey!" I exclaimed.

Captain Somper stared down at me and frowned. "I know you," he said.

"Yeah!
You work with my husband." I gave my ribs a last rub and straightened up. "I'm looking for the paint aisle," I said.

"You passed it two aisles back." His eyes narrowed.

I looked behind me.
A big sign with “Paint” hung a few feet away.
"Riii-ght! Silly me."

"What are you doing here?"

"Buying... paint," I said, slowly. "And Spackle. Yeah. Spackle. You?"

"Nothing," he said. Behind him, a man stepped around, holding
a large portable heater
. He paused at whatever he was about to say and looked from Somper to me.
He looked vaguely familiar, and I wondered if he was a member of the gym. He was darker than Somper, with brown eyes and a tow head.

"Who's this?" he asked, staring down at me.

"No one," said Somper. "Some wife of one of the guys."

"Yeah?" The man loomed closer.

"Well, great to see you," I said, backing up. "Best get that Spackle. Spackle waits for no man. Woman. Later!" I spun around, dodged the store clerk and headed to the paint aisle, breathing hard. Behind me, I heard
Clyde
hassling Somper and his friend for their email addresses. I walked to the end of the paint aisle, and slid around a pyramid of paint cans before I tried the radio.

"It's Somper," I told Flaherty. "I'm going to hang back. He's suspicious of me."

"What did you do?"

"Ran into him. He recognized me."

"Second guy look familiar?"

"Not sure. Maybe. He got a good look at me."

"Great. You win the stakeout lottery. You're done. I'll take over the tail."

"Sorry."

I wait
ed until Flaherty gave me a two-
click signal that the men left the store before I made for the exit. Just as I reached the doors, my favorite store clerk leaped into my path, his clipboard held like a shield in front of him. "Oh," he said, his smile disappearing.
He blew a stream of air towards a lock of hair that flopped forward over his forehead.
"You already signed."

"And I'm so happy I did, Clyde." I made to step around him, then stopped
and stepped back
. "Hey, you know those two guys who were in here a few minutes ago?"

"The ones you were talking to?"

"Yeah. Did they sign up?
"

The man
nodded. "Yep! I only need forty-
six more names
now
!"

"Can I see them?" I asked
, reaching for the clipboard. Clyde
held it to his chest. "Please? I just wanted to know their names so I could invite them to... uh, my parents' wedding anniversary. We haven't seen them in ages." I batted my eyelashes. My heart sped up a notch. I could
smell
the breakthrough.

"Well, uh, I guess. Let's see. Elton John and Justin Bieber," he said, without pause.

I blew out the breath I'd been holding in and palmed my head. "Fabulous. Thanks
so
much!"

"No problem! Come again!"

Not likely.

Chapter Eighteen

Solomon was waiting for me when I got back from my failed stakeout close to an hour
later, thanks to heavy traffic. As far as I knew, Flaherty was still having a whale of a time following Somper and his mystery friend.

"I can't believe I let Somper make me," I said, flopping onto the couch next to him.

"What story did you give him?"

"Said I was buying Spackle and paint." I shrugged. "He didn't look too
pleased to see me so I just said
'see ya' and left."

Solomon seemed nonplussed. "It doesn't matter. At least you got to verify it was him."

"Not the other guy though. He seemed kind of familiar at first, but I don't know why. I think I might have seen him somewhere before."

"Could you have seen him on base?"

"Maybe." I pulled a face and threw my arms up in exasperation. "I
thought at the gym, maybe, but I just
don't know. What's happening here?"

"Hold up. Back to Somper. What was he doing in a store like that?"

"I don't know. Redecorating?" Even as I said it, it sounded weird.
“His friend was buying a portable heater.”

“A heater?”

"Maybe it's nothing.
He could just live somewhere without heating.
"

"Hmm." Solomon closed
his laptop and gave
me a look. I knew that face. Neither of us were convinced. "So? What's going on with you?" I asked.

"Nothing. The phones haven't come back online. I sent Delgado out to tag team with F
laherty
. Twenty minutes ago, Fl
aherty
called in to say Somper dropped the other guy at his car. Out of the two, he tailed Somper and said it looks like he's heading back to base. I'm going to search his office before he gets here. Delgado's gone to take a look at the second house you went to see."

I missed all the fun. Again. "What about Tate? How did your meeting go? Did he give you anything?" I was in danger of babbling, so I shut up and waited.

Solomon ran a hand through his short crop of hair. "Yeah, 'bout that. Didn't happen. Tate got shanked a half hour before I got there. He's in the infirmary."

My mouth dropped open.
"Jeez! Is he going to make it?"

"The knife missed the major organs, so he should be okay. They were talking about transferring him to Montgomery General. He was lucky."

We pondered that. Tate didn't sound lucky to me. Actually, it sounded like all his luck had run out.

"So... do
you
want company while you raid Somper's office?"

Solomon shook his head. "The gym's still open so it'll be easier if I go in alone. Plus, I need you to swap the car for m
y Lexus
. Fletcher got it back from the body shop and is driving it over. He'll call you when he's nearby and meet you off base to do the swap." He leaned over and unexpectedly kissed me on the lips, lingering for a moment. "Do you want the bullets they pulled out?" he asked, very softly like he was whispering something sweet.

"No!" I recoiled and he laughed. "Very funny. What's wrong with this car?"

"Mine's bigger and better."

"Bet you say that to all the girls.
”

Solomon laughed, but he didn't deny it. "I have a lab tech I know running a ballistics report to see if the gun shows up in the system. Intrigued?" he told me, pulling me back to him, his mouth lingering near mine.

You bet I was. If the bullets were traced to a hot weapon
in the system
, we could get a name; and it would snowba
ll from there, taking us one step closer to finding who held Roxanne. Then, it would only be a short hop, to finding Jillian’s real killer.

"Come back here when you're done," he told me, and this time, his voice was smoky, full of promise. "I'll make it worth your while.
”

"Yes, boss,"
I whispered as I kissed him back, trying to ignore the little tug at my heart. What was I doing?

~

The
call from Fletcher
came in forty minutes
after Solomon disappeared into the gym. What took him so long I didn't know, but at least the brief sojourn off base would give me something to do. It was better than pacing, fidgeting and bothering
Lucas
over the phone
as I had been doing until Fletcher interrupted me
.
Disconnecting, I switched lines to continue my conversation with our tech genius.

"I've got nothing," said
Lucas
. "Not a thing to tell you."

"Didn't Flaherty call in with a plate? He said he was going to."

"Nope. Guess he forgot. I'll chase him up
later
."

I made a sound that didn't sound pleased.

Lucas
sighed. "Is it that important?"

"Guess not. But remind him if you speak to him. It would be useful to know to whom the car is registered.
It might lead us to the other man.
"

"Gotcha. I’ll give Flaherty a call. Gotta
go."

"Hot date?"

"With a network you don't want to know about."

"Is it anything to do with Solomon's secret new venture where he's taking you away to live with new people?"

Lucas
laughed. "He told you?"

"Yes," I lied. "He told me everything." I waited for
Lucas
to tell me everything.

"I'm not falling for that."

"Falling for what?" I asked innocently, but he hung up on me.

The exchange with Fletcher took a grand total of two minutes. Long enough for me to get out of the car, take the keys from
him and get into Solomon's car—
now with new bullet-less tires, just
the way I like them—
and for Fletcher to drive off, all without saying a word. I didn't take offense. Fletcher was a man of few words, and seventeen facial expressions of disbelief.

A few minutes later, I was back on base. The guard still didn’t seem to recognize me even though I was in and out like a yo-yo. Heading towards the apartment, my stomach tied in knots at the prospect of another weekend away from home. Not only that, this was the second weekend in a row that I was spending with Solomon. I dreaded to imagine what my parents would think of that, though based on my dad's request earlier, he'd probably be delighted. Lily would call it a honeymoon.

But all my problems paled into nothing, compared with the case. Truth be told, I wasn't feeling so great about today, even if I did pull one over on Maddox and Detective Bimbo. We were no closer to finding Roxanne than the day she went missing; and instead of coming up with answers, we just seemed to have more questions. Tate was stabbed and his boss was acting weird. I had a feeling Somper was
part of whatever was going on, but how? And why? And did he fit into the money laundering too?

Solomon’s narrow escape from serious injury
only a short time ago
wasn't all that palatable either. I would have tagged along to the gym with him, but instead, I got to
run his errand, then
wait for him at the apartment. It made me feel more useless than ever as the pressure mounted to find Roxanne. If he were right, and something was going dow
n this weekend, while all eyes w
ere on the homecoming celebrations, I figured Roxanne might have less than twenty-four hours to live.
If she were even still alive.

Instead of pulling into the apartment's lot, I drove past, aiming for Kevin's bar.
He seemed to know plenty of people.
Perhaps he might have a lead on who Somper's friend was?

Parking the car into a space, I idled the engine as I stared at the brick wall of the building. Something niggled at me, something that I'd seen, but not processed yet. Try as I might, I couldn't work out what it was. With a grunt of annoyance, I switched off the engine, but as I climbed out of the car, something made me turn my head and I saw him. It wasn't the car from
earlier casually gliding past—
the same car Flaherty
found, lost, and found again—but
it was the same man, Somper's
tow-headed
associate
,
and he was alone.
Where was he heading to?

Before losing the car, I jumped back in Solomon's
Lexus
and pulled out of the lot, heading in the same direction. I stayed back a few cars while we passed through the gates, then I stepped on it, powering after him before he could get away.

A bubble of excitement fizzled in my chest. This could be a chance to redeem myself. All I had to do was see where this man was headed and what he was doing, maybe even get a name if I got close enough to get the license plate
, though it would be more important to see what he did
. I could be back before Solomon, no problem.

We traveled swiftly, making few turns, so it was easy for me to drop back a
nother
car length and still keep him in my sights as the traffic thinned out.

It was Saturday night on base and most of the onsite residents were gearing up for the big homecoming party. Whatever was taking him out of town and into the countryside must be a lot more important than welcoming his comrades home. With fingers crossed over the steering wheel
that my lead would be fruitful
, I wondered where he was going and if it would end in finally getting some much needed answers. Even better, perhaps I'd catch a drugs sale, or a cash transfer, maybe even his hand around one of the burn phones, something that would incriminate him. It was a long shot, but my spark of optimism beat sitting in the apartment while everyone else made headway on cracking my case.
I thought about Lucas’ hands flying across his keyboard, following an intricate web of cyber clues and Flaherty and Delgado teaming up to complete the surveillance.
It wasn't enough that I solved a couple of cases. With a cringing certainty, I was sure the moment I started slipping would be the moment my colleagues decided my current winning streak was nothing more than a fluke. Not that they would say it to my face. No, they'd save it for a major fuck-up. Or just let me know by de-prioritizing my requests and refusing to work with me until I became a liability t
he agency couldn't carry. And—I gulped—if
they ever got wind that I'd slept with Solomon, my career would be over faster than neon legwarmers with no chance of a major fashion revival; and I'd be back to temping. The only thing temping ever got me was Maddox and this job... oh, and Solomon. The years of crappy paychecks, sexual harassment, filing cuts and, finally, the bullet from
a serial killer-slash-accountant
, were enough to keep me out of that game.

I floored the gas pedal.

I could not, would not, go back to temping.

That thought alone was motivation enough to keep me tailing the car onto a back road. Houses fell away to trees,
the just illuminated street lighting ebbed out,
and beyond that, the dusky sky didn't reveal much else. Even worse, it started to rain fat drops that splatted on the windshield, and my tummy was making little hungry noises. I flipped the wipers on and cra
ned my head forward as his tail
lights disappeared around a bend. Where was this guy going?

I ran through my mental checklist of what I had with me in case I had to get out
of
the car. Solomon kept a weapon under the seat, but
since I was
unable to lean down and check without veering off the road, I had to assume
there was the possibility it wasn’t there anymore
. Fletcher was bound to have replaced it
, I thought hopefully
.
I didn’t have much else.
I had my cell phone with its camera and video functions. Not as good as my
large
zoom-lens camera, but sufficient for close filming. And that was it. It wasn't a lot. I remembered my trai
ning:
Hang back, watch, don't engage. I repeated that to myself as the car drifted off the main road, heading south, and I made the turn, following.

As I rounded the bend, I began thinking about my Maddox and Solomon situation, something I'd
be
en trying hard to keep my mind off.

Earlier, Maddox had implied he didn't consider things over between us. However, I had a strong suspicion if I told him what happened between Solomon and me, that would kill it pretty fast. But if I didn't say anything, and we got back together, that would be as close to lying as it got. Lying by omission, anyway. And that's if we even wanted to get back together. My gut told me pretty Detective Rebecca Blake couldn't be trusted to stay within boundaries; and I wasn't overly happy about the idea of Maddox working with her so closely now or in the future, even if he seemed to think it was nothing more than an undercover act
to her
.