G-Men: The Series (29 page)

“A laugh riot,” I commented. “Maybe he’s trying to impress you by complimenting your parents.”

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “but he didn’t have any compliments for Daddy. Said he looked kind of uptight. He sure was surprised when I told him you’d be thirty-six in a week or so.”

I choked on the iced tea I was sipping.

“You told him my age?”

“Sure, why not? It’s not a secret, is it?”

“Honey, once past thirty, it isn’t polite to advertise someone’s age. Speaking of which, isn’t Eric a bit old for you?”

“Geez, Mom. We’re not getting engaged or married, just hanging out a little bit this summer. Eric says he can’t commit to anyone until he gets through with all his schooling and interning. I get that.”

“That sounds sensible to me,” I agreed. “So, he didn’t get fresh with you or anything last night?”

“No
mother
, he didn’t get fresh. I can’t believe you’d even ask me that.”

Lindsey was clearly getting irritated with my questions. I needed to chill. I had to figure out what Slate’s deal was without putting Lindsey in the middle. I’d be furious beyond reason if I discovered he was, in some way, using Lindsey as some pawn in a scheme. None of this made sense.

Becky had been too tipsy the night before to offer much help or speculation. Perhaps I needed to find out directly from the source. I would try to get Slate…Eric; whoever the hell he was these days, alone, to find out exactly what he was up to and why.

Jack had been out most of the afternoon. He still hadn’t returned. He was only supposed to be getting beer, wine, hamburger, brats and hot dogs. I couldn’t figure out why it was taking hours to do this. My parents arrived at 3:00 p.m. They were early (as usual). The cook-out wasn’t scheduled until 5:00 p.m.

I’d showered earlier in the afternoon. I was wearing my hair up on top of my head with a few wispy tendrils hanging down. I dressed in another sun dress that did a bit more to hide my growing baby bump. I certainly didn’t want Slate’s attention to be focused on that the whole evening.

I noticed Lindsey had dressed in some tight little shorts and a tank top that accentuated her cute figure. She kept her hair shorter than mine. It was cut really cute. It fell just below her ears. She looked cute and wholesome. There was no doubt about it. Slate had better leave her the hell alone.

As soon as my parents had greeted Lindsey, they headed down the hall and into the kitchen where I was making up a relish tray of snacks.

Daddy gave me one of his notorious bear hugs as soon as he walked in, telling me how proud he was of the fine job that I’d done with Lindsey, reiterating what a good man Jack was.

I wanted to puke for the second day in a row.

“Where the hell is he, anyway?” he bellowed. “I could use a cold beer.”

“Should be here anytime, Daddy. Take a seat on the patio. Lindsey’s getting the lawn chairs out of the garage. When Jack gets here, we’ll start the grill.”

“Okay,” he hollered back. “Need a cold one before long, though.”

Mom wasted no time cornering me in the kitchen as I made a fresh pitcher of lemonade. I knew that she was going to lay a guilt trip on me as only a mother can.

“Well, dear, I’m glad you decided to share the good news about the impending birth of a new grandchild with everyone, with the exception of Daddy and me.”

Guilt properly laid.

“Mom, I’m really sorry. The truth is, you guys travel so much, I can’t keep up with where you are one minute before you’re going on to yet another vacation spot.”

“That’s nonsense, Samantha, and you know it.”

This is so not like Mom.

“Mom, I don’t know what else to say, other than I’m sorry. It was thoughtless of me, I know.”

“Can I ask you something, Samantha, and will you promise to be totally honest with your answer?”

I looked over at her as I poured both of us a glass of lemonade. She had a serious look on her face. It was if she’d wanted to ask this question for a long time, but dreaded the answer.

“Of course I will.”

“Did your Daddy and I make a mistake in forcing you into a marriage with Jack?”

I had no clue why my mother was acting so out of character; trying to delve deep into something . . . but what? And why?

“Mom,” I said, hoping the sincerity in my voice made up for the fact that there wasn’t an honest answer I could give that wouldn’t tear her up. “You and Daddy did what you thought was best for all concerned. Jack’s been a wonderful father to Lindsey.”

“That’s not an answer, Samantha,” she snapped, almost loudly. “You promised to tell me the truth.”

I sat down across from her at the kitchen table and took her hand into mine.

“I’m not sure if I can answer it honestly. I’ll try, though. I don’t know for certain if Lindsey would’ve turned out so well had she not had Jack’s love and attention. I also don’t know whether Jack would’ve given her as much love and attention had we not married and had he not been given his position at Banion, which afforded us things for the family. I can tell you that I don’t love Jack, though I was fully prepared to love him. I can also tell you that it’s doubtful Jack has ever loved me.”

“I knew it,” she said with a sob, hanging her head. “I knew it was a mistake on our part. Forgive us please, Samantha? I know your father will never see that as being a mistake, but I did. Can you forgive me for not standing up to him for once in my life for my little girl?”

“Oh, Mom,” I said, leaning over and hugging her to me. “There’s no need to ask me for forgiveness. I had choices after that I could’ve made, should’ve made, and didn’t.”

“No,” she said, still upset, “parents should never put their children in a position to be hurt like that. It was wrong. Just know that whatever you do in the future, you’ll have my total support, okay?”

I nodded, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. She leaned in close as if she had a secret to share.

“This baby isn’t Jack’s, is it?”

Her eyes almost looked hopeful; as if by some chance it made my escape from Jack easier, which perhaps it did. I smiled back, squeezing her hand.

“No,” I replied. “This baby isn’t Jack’s. He had a vasectomy years ago. Lindsey doesn’t know this yet.”

She patted my hand as I saw her smile for the first time since she’d come in to see me.

“Your secret’s safe with me for as long as it needs to be, Samantha.”

^{chapter 37}

~ ERIC/SLATE ~

I’d been a fucking wreck all night after seeing Sunny… . . . Sammie, whatever the fuck her name was, when I went to pick up my little co-ed friend.

Jesus Christ! How in the hell was I supposed to process this turn of events? I hoped that I’d maintained my cool.

Lindsey hadn’t acted as if anything was wrong. My head was spinning upon leaving the multi-million dollar mansion the Dennisons called home. What the fuck? I had no clue Sunny came from Banion money. No wonder she traveled incognito. Being rich must be a burden, one that I’d never know.

I could barely focus on the movie. Coffee afterwards had seemed to drone on and on. I was pretty sure that Lindsey wasn’t suspicious of the questions I asked about her mother. I’d been picking her brain for a few weeks about her dad. That had been much easier. I simply made it look as if he was a mentor of monumental proportions to someone like me, just coming up the through the ranks. She’d loved talking about Daddy.

She said her mom was getting ready to turn thirty-six. I had to smile. I bet Sunny had a hissy fit when, and if, she found out that Lindsey had shared that info with me. Chicks were funny about aging.

What the fuck? Sunny looked to be more like twenty-five than thirty-five. I could almost guarantee that she’d grilled her poor daughter about our ‘faux’ date.

I’d wanted to kick the rat bastard’s ass all over their ten acres when I put two and two together last evening.

What a fucking wasteroid, hitting his wife, like I knew he had in the past. I was certain that Lindsey hadn’t a clue about that part of it. I couldn’t see her loving Daddy so much if she knew how he treated her mother.

The truth was, this was the part of my job that I hated more than anything; duping nice people to find out information.

Lindsey was a nice kid; an only child for Chrissake. She was sweet and innocent, but there’s no way I’d given her any indication I was anything other than a friend or confidante. I figured a kid growing up as an only child needed as many confidantes as possible.

Hanging with Lindsey at Banion had given me plenty of opportunities to study the processes and procedures. It was my way in for getting into areas typically not accessible by interns, simply because she worked in those restricted areas.

All I had to do was press my face up against the glass door of the test lab and wave to her; she would immediately buzz me in.

We talked, well mostly she did the talking, while I observed and asked questions. She was happy to answer them all. She was a sweetie, for sure. I knew there was no way in hell Lindsey knew anything about her father’s criminal activities.

Therein lay the problem. I couldn’t say the same thing about Sunny. Since I’d mistakenly assumed that Sunny was married to a truck driver, and lived in a trailer park, I wasn’t prepared to honestly and objectively assess her involvement, if any, in these activities.

My thoughts were in turmoil. My emotions were right there, too, though I fucking hated admitting it. I thought if I ever set eyes on the prick-tease again, I’d feel nothing but the need to lash out at her…seek some sort of verbal revenge. I felt none of that now and it pissed me off in all honesty.

My tumultuous thoughts were interrupted when my doorbell sounded. It was Taz and Donovan. I had summoned both of them to my apartment.

I opened the door and they both filed in, looking none too pleased.

“You know this isn’t typical protocol, right Eric?”

“Yeah, yeah, have a seat. I wouldn’t have called you here if it wasn’t a matter of grave importance. I’m not a rookie, for Chrissake.”

They both eyed me warily, and then took a seat on my overstuffed leather sofa.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, Agent Matthews,” I said with a smirk.

“Just get to the point,” Taz griped, twisting his ‘do-rag’ back into place.

Taz fucking loved his role as mean biker gang member. I actually thought he was going to regret it when all of this shit was over, which was supposed to be fairly soon. Now, I wasn’t so sure. They were both waiting for me to say what I needed to say.

“I think I may need to take myself off leading this investigation, guys.”

“Are you crazy?” Donovan snapped, unable to contain his anger.

“Hey, I’m the senior officer,” I snapped back. “Watch your fucking mouth, Craig.”

“Both of you chill,” Taz interjected. He was forever the calm one.

Donovan and I’d had our share of disagreements. Still, it wasn’t his fucking place to question a senior investigator. I knew that there was a major conflict here. Protocol said that I needed to make it known to the other operatives. I’d already communicated this to my senior operative in D.C., first thing this morning.

“What’s going on?” Taz asked, his forehead breaking into those premature frown lines he got when worried. He was too damn young for frown lines. He hadn’t earned them, but I had.

“Guess who the douche bag is married to?”

“No…”

“Yep. Diamond Girl.”

“Who?” Donovan asked, clearly clueless.

“Jack Dennison is married to the dancer Slate was fucking for a while, Diamond Girl, a.k.a., Sunny.”

I threw Taz an immediate glare for describing Sunny as simply a fuck buddy. It was way more than that and he damn well knew it.

“That’s impossible,” Donovan breathed, now feeling totally stupid that his investigative information was less than mediocre on such a high profile case. “I’ve met with her several times. She was cooperative, forthright and I know that there’s no way in hell that soccer mom’s a dancer.”

“Well she is - was,” I corrected. “And she’s pregnant with what may turn out to be my child.”

“What?” they both said in unison. “Did you also report that?”

“I did. So you can see why this is a total conflict of interest for me. If, for one minute, the attorney defending her husband or those fucking bikers got wind of my involvement, it could blow the federal prosecutor’s case into oblivion.”

“So, what are your instructions from DC? We were supposed to serve the warrants on the 5th.”

“We’re to hold tight for a couple of days until revised instructions are provided. In the meantime, gentlemen, I have a 4th of July cookout to attend.”

“You aren’t seriously still going out with the daughter are you?”

“We aren’t going out,” I replied tersely. “I cultivated a friendship for the purpose of gaining information. That’s acceptable within the parameters of our jobs here, last I heard. I haven’t been instructed to do anything otherwise, at the moment. I wanted to fill you two in on the developments and to confirm that the ‘sit tight for now’ instructions are followed by you and the others. Do you understand?”