Gotcha! (9 page)

He explained to Stan about Macy’s house being broken into and spray painted. He also mentioned the coincidence of the other robberies tagged with red paint.

“Is this the squeaky-voiced Monroe chick?” Stan asked.

“No. She’s the sister to the one of the escapees.”

“Ah. Well, good luck with that family.”

Jake said good-bye and hung up, then told Donaldson, “Stan Anders, from Homicide.”

Donaldson nodded and looked at the books on the table again. “Macy in school?”

“Yeah.” Jake remembered her mentioning a test. It hit him suddenly how little he knew about her. Well, he planned to remedy that. In about three hours, when she came home.

“So she’s studying to be a shyster.” Donaldson held up a constitutional-law textbook.

Crap.
That
would explain her citizens’ rights speech. Lawyers weren’t his favorite people. Then Jake remembered her smile, her never-ending wit, her body, and how the whole package made him feel whole again. He supposed not all lawyers had to be bad.

Donaldson stood and glanced down at his paint-speckled jeans. “Well, I’ve reached my quota of manual labor for the day.”

“Rich kids,” Jake teased. He stood as well. “Thanks for everything.”

“Anything to help a guy get lucky.” Donaldson hesitated. “Actually, I enjoyed it.” He started out the front door and then glanced back. “Tomorrow I want cheese on my biscuit.”

Macy pulled up to the condo gate and punched in the apartment number of her final delivery. She’d already paid for the pizza out of her own money and turned in her bank so she wouldn’t have go back to the restaurant. Since she’d gotten off a little early, she planned to swing by and visit Nan and her mom. If she couldn’t stop thinking about Billy, she suspected her mom and Nan couldn’t, either. While Macy wasn’t eager to hear her mom cry, family stuck together—but only through two tissues.

“Pizza delivery,” Macy said into the gate phone. A buzzer sounded and the gate opened. Macy pulled inside.

She drove to the second building and parked. She was out of her car before she remembered she was being followed. When she looked back to see if her tail had made it through, she saw he hadn’t; the agent was standing by the iron gate. He yelled something in an angry voice.

Macy waved, smirking. “Guess FBI agents need to work on their tailing skills as well as their manners,” she muttered, remembering his unkind comments about her driving when he’d accosted her between deliveries. She considered pulling back to let him in. But she’d be out in a snap.

Two minutes later she was back in her car with a five-dollar tip. She glanced around to see if her tail had made it into the complex, but it seemed he hadn’t; the sedan was nowhere to be seen. Exiting the lot, she drove around the block to see if he’d waited. Nothing. So she headed towards Nan’s. It wasn’t her fault she’d lost the guy. Well, not
all
her fault. Besides, Tanks was probably halfway to Mexico right now. She just hoped Billy wasn’t with him.

Jake had gone to his place to grab an overnight bag and a quick shower. Convincing Macy to let him stay would be tricky, but if he had everything already collected, she might be more inclined to give in. Though the idea of Macy giving in to anything seemed farfetched. For that reason, he’d also tucked a blanket and pillow in the backseat of his car.

Yep. He had it bad. And this wasn’t about being a Good Samaritan. This was about a man wanting to protect a woman. And about getting her naked—provided she wanted him to, of course.

Returning to Macy’s, he tossed the used drop cloths into the garage. They could use them again when he helped her paint over the primer.
If
she let him help. Even he had to admit his sudden possessiveness seemed too much, especially when he hadn’t had any real interest in women since Lisa. He shook his head, determined not to do a Sunday drive down memory lane. Plain and simple, he liked Macy, wanted to see where that could lead. Now, what could be wrong with that? Not a damn thing.

He snatched new locks out of his bag. No, he hadn’t forgotten about the key-toting ex-husband. And after making fast work of the installations, he went to the shower. Earlier he’d spotted the painted messages on the shower walls. Staring at them now, he couldn’t believe Macy had bathed here.

He scrubbed off most of the paint. As he headed out of the bathroom, Macy’s phone rang. The answering machine caught the call. He listened to her recorded message. “Hi, this is Macy…” She sure had a sexy voice.

“Macy. It’s Father Luis. I hate to call you again, but I wanted to talk about you replacing Sister Beth. I know you’re concerned about how it will fit into your life, but I know it would work. The church needs you, Macy. God needs you.”

What? Jake remembered hearing the message last night. Was Macy…? Was he lusting after a woman who was about to take vows? No! She was divorced. Then he recalled reading that the Catholic Church was desperate for new nuns and priests.

Dropping onto the sofa, he ran a hand through his hair. While he didn’t like competition, he could handle the normal kind—but he hadn’t planned on taking on the Catholic Church. Before he made any serious moves, he’d have to get to the bottom of this.

As he stood up, his cell phone rang. He snatched it from the table, and he couldn’t keep the frustration of imagining Macy Tucker garbed in a nun’s habit out of his voice. “Yeah?”

“Jake Baldwin?” the male voice asked.

“You got him. Who’s this?”

“This is Billy Moore.”

Jake gripped the cell phone tight. “Where are you, Billy?”

“I’m only going to talk for thirty seconds, so listen.” The kid sounded scared.

“Tell me where you are, and we’ll talk in person.”

“I need a favor.”

“Tell me in person.” Jake searched for a pen and pencil.

“I need you to watch my sister Macy. David Tanks doesn’t make idle threats. He—he’s already killed someone else.”

“Billy, your sister is worried. Let me—”

“He’s capable of anything. Watch her. Don’t let him get to her. And about Ellie…I made her do everything.”

“Do what, Billy? What did you make her do?”

“Tanks knows where Mace works. He had her work number and address circled in a phone book. I drove there to make sure she was okay. I saw someone following her, like a cop or something, but…she went to a gated apartment to deliver a pizza, and the man following her couldn’t get in. Then I think she left. I couldn’t find her.” There was the sound of a scared hiccup. “And Tanks knows where she works. Find Mace and make sure she’s okay.”

“Billy, look—”

“Find her. Do it now!”

“Is Tanks near Macy? Where are you?” Jake demanded. The line clicked. He hit his callback button, but though the phone rang, no one answered. He hit memory keys until he found Agent James’s number. It rang again—once, twice. No answer there, either.

“Damn!” He grabbed his keys and bolted out the door.

He drove like hell and parked in front of Papa’s Pizza. Through the restaurant’s glass doors, he saw the agent who’d been following Macy talking to another employee. Jake jumped out of his car and hurried inside.

“Where is she?”

“She got away!” Agent Mimms snapped back. “She pulled—”

“How the hell could you lose her?” Jake bellowed.

“She did it on purpose. And I swear to God, I’m going to teach—”

Another female employee came out of the back and interrupted. “Are you guys talking about Macy? She mentioned going to her mom’s place.”

“Where’s that?” Jake asked, frustrated that he knew so little. He prayed he still had a chance to learn more.

The moon vanished behind clouds just as Macy got out of her car and headed across Nan’s lawn, and the night went black. A spray of light caught her as a car turned down the street, and at the same time, the bushes rustled. Macy swung around. Spook, the neighbor’s golden retriever, tail thumping, came swaying up to her, hoping for a handout.

Macy willed her heart to stop racing. “Sorry, no pizza tonight.” She gave the dog a rub behind his ear and cast another glance around the darkness, then hurried to the porch.

Macy tapped on the door at the same time as she opened it. One step inside, and she found everything was the status quo. Nan sat on the floor, her body pretzeled in yoga. Her mom burrowed deep into a recliner, sobbing into a tissue.

“Oh, Mace!” her mom cried, hugging her nubby robe closer around herself. “I’ve done a terrible thing.” She sniffled.

Macy looked at Nan, who unwrapped her left leg from around her neck. “What did she do?” She shut the door behind her.

“I visited that guard who accused Billy of shooting him.”

Macy stopped short of Nan’s yoga mat. “You did what?”

Nan swung her right leg around her neck. “He’s at the same hospital where she volunteers.” She took in a deep breath and held it.

Macy plopped down on the sofa. “You can’t do that, Mom! You can’t start accusing—”

“She didn’t do anything.” Nan unfolded her body.

“But I wanted to,” her mom cried out. “I wanted to ask him how dare he say my son shot him when…when we know that Billy could never do that. He’s a
good
boy.”

Nan shot Macy a smile. “It’s a funny story.” She stood and brushed off her Little Mermaid pajamas. She had a thing for Disney.

“Then why am I not laughing?” Macy snapped. She turned back to her mom. “The guard never said Billy shot him. He told the FBI that Billy saved his life.” Sergeant Baldwin had told her that.

“He did?” her mom and Nan both asked at the same time.

“How do you know this?” Nan asked.

“Baldwin told me. After you left.”

“Who’s Baldwin?” her mom said.

Nan grinned. “That cop who has a thing for your daughter.”

“He doesn’t have a thing for me,” Macy said. She regretted saying it, because she knew it was a lie. But he could take his thing somewhere else.

“And bears don’t do the hanky-panky in the woods,” Nan answered.

Macy shook her head. “Mom, what did you say to this guy?”

“Nothing.” Faye dropped her face into her hands. Snorting sounds leaked through her fingers.

Macy had never heard her mother cry like that, and she blamed it all on Billy. Then her mom raised her face. She wasn’t crying.

“It was terrible!” A full-blown giggle escaped her lips.

“What was terrible?” Macy asked, confused.

Nan snickered. “He flashed her.”

Macy leaned forward. “What?”

“She saw everything,” Nan said. “The full monty.”

Macy’s mother talked around her giggles. “He thought I was crying because I didn’t like what I saw!”

“I think she liked it.” Nan reached her hands to the ceiling in one last stretch.

“I didn’t say that.” Faye snickered again. “I said it wasn’t
that
bad.”

“Wait,” Nan said. “If you’re going to tell the story again, I’m going to get us some wine coolers. You’re going to love this, Mace.” They all moved to the kitchen table.

Macy did love it. Well, she loved seeing her mom laugh for the first time in years. They all laughed.

Macy stopped laughing when Nan brought up Sergeant Baldwin again.

“So, you and that cop have got the hots for each other, huh?”

Macy felt her face flush. “Are you joking?”

“She hit him in the balls,” Nan explained to Macy’s mom.

“Macy!” her mother scolded. “Didn’t you learn anything when you got expelled from school for doing that?”

“That creep was stealing panties from my gym locker. He deserved it.”

“Did Baldwin deserve it?” Nan asked.

“How did you meet this guy?” Her mom looked at Nan. “And how do you know about him and I don’t?”

Macy glanced at Nan. “I just mentioned it to her this afternoon. But he’s not important. He’s sort of working with that task force, and sort of came to see me about Billy.”

“And you sort of hit him in the balls?” her mom asked.

“I didn’t know who he was at the time.” Macy sipped her wine cooler, then flicked the bottle label with her fingernail.

“He’s good-looking,” Nan remarked. “Dark and sinful.” Her gaze switched from her daughter to her granddaughter. “I think you should go for it.”

The image of Jake Baldwin flashed into Macy’s head, but she sent it packing. “I’ll go for it right about the time they start serving Baskin-Robbins in hell.”

“Why wouldn’t you go for it?” her mom asked. “You’re divorced now.”

“Please. Do I really have to explain?”

“Yeah,” Nan said. “Explain.”

Macy rolled her eyes. “Look at us, all three. Where has a man gotten any of us?”

“I loved your father,” her mom sniffled.

“Yeah. And Dad left you so he could go pan for gold in Nevada.”
And screw showgirls
, she didn’t say. Hearing that would have hurt her mother. “Then there’s Tom. He brought his bimbo to my bed.” And the sofa. And probably the floor.

Macy looked at Nan next. “You’ve had two husbands. Where are they?”

Nan’s brow furrowed. “It’s hard to blame them for dying.”

“That makes it even worse,” Macy snapped. “Because even if by some grace of God you find a decent man who makes you feel safe and loved, he gives you nickels for candy, promises to take you to the circus, and then spoils everything by falling dead into a plate of spaghetti.”

“It was lasagna,” Nan corrected.

“I think it was spaghetti,” Macy’s mother said and sniffled.

Macy sighed. “Lasagna, spaghetti. I was five. All I remember is tomato sauce everywhere. My point is, all men end up hurting me. Hurting
us
.”

“This is my fault.” Her mom started crying.

“No, it’s Dad’s fault. It’s Tom’s fault. It’s Grandpa’s fault for croaking during dinner. It’s all men, even Billy.” Tears filled her vision. “Look what he’s done to us. You’re getting flashed and I…”
Have a murderer out to rape me.
But she couldn’t say that.

“You what?” her mom asked, still sniffling.

Macy was saved from answering by the bell. Well, not a bell, but a loud, whacking knock at the door. One thought hit Macy like a brick.

Tanks.

And from the look on Nan’s face, Nan thought the same thing.

Macy and Nan hotfooted it to the door. Nan got to the peephole first.

“Oh, crappers,” she said.

“Who is it?” Macy glanced around the room for a weapon. The lamp, her grandma’s purse…Hey, the thing weighed a ton.

“It’s your boyfriend, but he doesn’t look happy.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Macy spat out.

“You really shouldn’t have hit him in the balls.” Her mom stepped up behind them. “Men are really funny about that.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Macy repeated. She gripped her wine cooler as Nan started to open the door.

“Don’t!” Macy didn’t want to face Baldwin right now. Then again, maybe he was here about Billy.

“What?” Nan asked. “You want me to holler that no one’s home? Tom might have been stupid enough to fall for that, but I don’t think this guy will.”

Macy bit down on her lip. “Fine. Open it.”

Nan did, and Baldwin charged inside. No
Hello, how are you, can I come in?
He barged in, not shutting the door, and his eyes alighted on her like fruit flies on a gone-bad banana.

“You ditched him on purpose,” he accused.

“No, I forgot he was there.”

Macy’s mom stepped forward. “Forgot who?”

Macy ignored her. “I didn’t mean to do it. I went into the apartment complex. He didn’t follow. I looked for him before I left.”

“Do you have a death wish? Are you stupid?”

“You must have hit him really hard,” her mom remarked. “Tell the man you’re sorry, Mace.”

Nan stared at Baldwin. “What did my granddaughter do?”

Her mom spoke up. “You said she hit him in the balls.”

“She did.” Nan looked at Baldwin. “Did she hit you in the balls again?”

Macy tried to ignore the tangent the conversation had taken and focus on the angry man in front of her. “I drove around the block looking for that guy.”

“He was supposed to follow you. You knew that. Why make it hard on him?”

Suddenly, bolting through the open door came the FBI man himself. He glared at Macy. “I want to talk to you,” he growled.

“Did she hit
everyone
in the balls?” her mom asked.

“Maybe,” Nan said. “It does give a woman a rush.”

The FBI agent stepped closer. “You need to be taught a lesson,” he said.

Macy stepped back.

Nan and her mom moved forward, each taking a protective stance beside her. What a picture, Macy thought: Nan in lemon yellow Little Mermaid pj’s, Macy herself in drab Papa Pizza polyester, and her mom in a faded pink nubby robe. All three of them were clutching fuzzy-navel wine coolers.

Nan and her mom’s protectiveness didn’t surprise Macy. But Baldwin joined the defense. He stepped between her and the angry agent. “
I
deal with Miss Tucker.”

Nan snickered. “Told you he had a thing for you.”

The FBI agent started smarting off to Baldwin. Baldwin gave back in kind. Macy decided to be smarter than both of them, and snatched her purse and left.

Billy sat in the van and watched the cars pull in and out of the Girls Galore parking lot. Was Tanks here, inside and watching naked girls? Billy considered trying to get in, but without an ID it would be impossible.

“Damn!” He looked down at the loaded gun resting on the passenger seat and wished this was over. He almost bit his lip, but stopped himself.

He drew in a deep breath of pure frustration. The sound reminded him of his grandma doing yoga. He missed Nan and his mom, missed Mace. What he wouldn’t give to go back eight months and tell the Harp brothers no. No, I’m not going to be a part of your game. All they were supposed to do was score some beer. Billy hadn’t known the Harp brothers carried knives and had robbed stores in the past. Sometimes what you didn’t know cost a hell of a lot. His whole friggin’ life was screwed up because he hadn’t said no.

For a while, Billy had wanted to blame the Harp brothers. Then he’d wanted to blame his lawyer and the judge. After a week behind bars, a week of hearing all the other inmates blaming someone else for their being there, Billy had accepted the cruel, cold truth. He had no one to blame but himself.

His focus stayed on the front entrance of Girls Galore until, when he least expected it, the van’s passenger door swung open.

Billy went for his gun.