Hallowed Ground (22 page)

Rock chips pelted my legs. Dust clogged my nose, layered on my hair and skin like talcum powder. The sun beat down on my head. I was dirty, bruised, sunburned, and I didn’t care.

When Martinez slowed, I opened my eyes and scooted back in the seat. I had no idea where he’d taken us.

We hung a sharp right between two crooked wooden fenceposts, bumped over a rusted cattleguard and motored through a field until we reached a cluster of half-dead elm trees.

He cut the engine.

I scrambled off while he steadied the bike.

Kickstand in place, he rummaged in the left rear saddlebag.

He turned toward me. His sunglasses were gone.

At the look on his face I automatically took a step back.

Without saying a word, he cracked the seal on a bottle of Bacardi. Still watching me, he tipped his head back and drank. And drank until the bottle was half empty.

Martinez wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then jiggled the elixir. “Want some?”

Despite my nausea, I nodded and bridged the distance between us. My fingers brushed his as I latched onto the bottle. I brought it to my mouth and gulped the sweet liquid until my throat caught fire. Took a breath, took another long, long drink. Then another.

Eyes watering, I passed it back.

He killed the remainder.

In less than two minutes we’d sucked down a bottle of rum. It should have bothered me. It didn’t. Yet, I’d never seen Martinez so close to losing control.

He’d perched his backside on the motorcycle seat. He reached down, picked up a big dirt clod and chucked it at the closest tree trunk. It exploded, leaving fine red dust in its wake.

His voice was nearly unrecognizable.

“How am I supposed to tell Harvey about Rondelle?”

I rounded the back end of the bike and wrapped my arms around his neck. Laid my cheek on the top of his head. Inhaled the sun-warmed scent of his shampoo. “I don’t know.”

The air didn’t stir. Normal outdoor noises were curiously absent. Evidently the brutal heat had sent birds and other wildlife seeking shelter. No breeze, but I was grateful for the shade.

Martinez sighed and angled his neck to rub his jaw over my knuckles.

“He’ll go ballistic,” he said. “This will tip him right over the edge.”

Was that Martinez’s way of admitting Harvey wasn’t stable under normal circumstances?

“So what do we do now? You want me to call the sheriff?”

“No. No cops.”

I lifted my head. “What do you mean ‘no cops’?”

“Just what I said. No cops.”

I waited for him to explain. Of course, he didn’t.

“We just saw three mutilated bodies. We can’t leave them lying there. The families need to know what happened. God. Whoever did this can’t get away with it.”

“They won’t.”

I’d crossed the line into gray areas a couple of times in my PI work. Yeah, I’d defended my actions because the end had always justified the means. But there wasn’t any justification for purposely concealing a crime of this magnitude. Those victims were dead, bloated, and worm food. That went beyond the gray area into pure black and I wouldn’t have any part of it.

I pushed him. “Just because you hired me does
not
mean you get to make that decision.”

Before I could stomp off, he’d vaulted the bike and spun me about. His body blocked mine; his hands cradled my head, forcing me to drown into the icy blackness of his eyes.

“Yes, I do, because you aren’t thinking rationally.”

I froze.

“Stop looking at me like I’m the Boston Strangler,” he snapped.

“Then get your goddamn hands off my neck and quit acting like you’re going to strangle me.”

He kept his hands right where they were. “You’ve got to listen.”

“Fine. I’m listening.”

“I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t know something was up? An anonymous tip? About Chloe?

Come on. It’s obvious someone wanted me to find the bodies before the cops did. Why? And is it a coincidence all their personal belongings were left so the cops could ID them? I don’t think so.”

Since I couldn’t shake my head with the vice grip he had on it, I blinked.

“We are in deep shit here, blondie, since in one form or another we’ve dealt with every one of those dead people in the last week. Neither of us can afford to get involved in this investigation right now.

“Once they connect Rondelle to Donovan, they’ll come to you. They’ll already be looking hard at the Hombres with Tommy being one of the victims. Our beef with the Carluccis isn’t exactly a secret. Add Harvey and Rondelle into the equation and we’re seriously fucked. No one can know what we’ve seen. Someone else has to discover the bodies.”

“How long are you going to let them rot there?” I demanded.

“You think I’m the only person who’s been tipped off? I’m surprised we got out of there before the cops showed.”

His grip gentled. Shaking fingers caressed my cheekbones.

“Trust me on
this
, if nothing else. Doing nothing is the only way we can handle it.”

Part of me knew he was right. Part of me feared if I took this one wrong turn, would anything in my life ever be right again?

I stared at him, looking for guilt, or conceit. I only saw anguish he didn’t mask.

“Okay,” I said.

And in that moment everything between us changed.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. Pressed his warm, soft lips to my forehead. “Thank you.”

“What about Chloe?”

“Now you’ve got a bigger reason to find her.”

Martinez held on to me, like I was the only thing keeping him up. I didn’t question my reaction and I sure as hell didn’t try to squirm away.

Finally he withdrew. “Let’s go.”

“You okay to ride?” I asked.

“Yeah. Be better if we could stay here and get drunk.”

That numbness had settled inside me, like I’d seen the whole thing on TV. The grisly images replaying in my mind would haunt me for the rest of my life. Alcohol wouldn’t blur them, yet I figured it was worth a try.

“That was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes closed. “Wish I could say the same.”

“You’ve seen worse?”

No particulars. No surprise.

He climbed on the bike.

I placed my foot on the peg and threw my leg over, huddling behind him. We didn’t speak during the ride, or even after he’d dropped me off at my car.

There was nothing left to say.

I DIDN’T KNOW IF I COULD DEAL WITH KELL AFTER THE horror I’d seen. Hell, I didn’t know how to deal with myself. I sat in my car and let the heat of the day bake me. Maybe I could sweat those images out.

Didn’t work.

The Babbitt’s garage door opened. Before Mrs. Babbitt came over to see why I’d been basting for twenty minutes, I dragged my butt up the steps and inside the house.

Kell sat on my couch, foot propped on the coffee table.

Without a word I kicked off my shoes, stripped, and crawled into the shower. The water washed away the smell of death, but didn’t seep into my brain to erase the mental pictures. I stayed under the deluge until the water turned icy. Sad that this was becoming a habit with me.

Robe on, hair combed, I bypassed the niceties with Kell and went straight for the Don Julio in the kitchen.

Three slugs later, I began to breathe again.

Bottle in one hand, empty Flintstones Village mug in the other, I shuffled into the living room and sat down.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, hoping it sounded more sincere than it felt.

“Better.”

“Good.” Tequila splashed my hand as I poured another shot. I lit a Marlboro, grateful the smoke seeped to my lungs through the tightness in my throat.

The air in the room was noxious, but not from the cloud of tar and nicotine.

“What happened today, Julie?”

Death. Distrust. Disloyalty. Pick one. I couldn’t muster up the guts to admit the truth. “Just another day at the office.”

“No. Doing paperwork doesn’t put that haunted look in your eyes.”

I traced a shaky fingertip around the lip of the cup.

“Can you talk about it?”

Not like Kell to press.

I realized he normally didn’t ask me anything about my job because he didn’t care. I shook my head.

“Then we’ll just have to talk about what happened the other day. It won’t go away no matter how much you try to ignore it.” He patted the cushion. “Come sit by me.”

I knocked back the tequila and moved next to him, bringing the bottle along. My cigarette burned untouched in the ashtray.

“You’re hitting that stuff pretty hard.” Kell reached for my hand. I moved it away. “Booze isn’t the answer.”

“Depends on the question.”

As usual he gave me time to consider my smart-ass response. Resentment welled up. Who was he to sit back and pass judgment on me? Or my choices? Better to blurt out the first thing that popped into my head than pretend everything was sunshine and fucking roses.

Dramatic pause. Dramatic sigh. “Julie, you have to know this isn’t working.”

I didn’t argue. But I didn’t want to hear his theory on why it wasn’t working. Was it too much to hope for he’d keep his wisdom to himself? Probably.

“I know,” I said.

“Do you know why?”

“Because we’re too different?”

“Partially.” He flipped his hair over his shoulder. The move I’d considered so sexy now seemed so . . . staged.

“Partially?”

“You want specifics? Okay. I thought I could accept the parts of you that are so different from me.”

Ah. The old “It’s not you, it’s me” line.

“And now?”

“I realize I can’t.”

I swallowed the shot and faced him. “I’ve never hidden who I am from you, Kell.”

“That’s the problem. Maybe I didn’t want to see the real you.”

“The real me,” I repeated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“That there are parts of your life, your job for one thing, that I don’t understand. That I don’t
want
to understand.”

The pity in his eyes was my undoing. “Yeah, good, because I don’t feel like explaining them.” I scooted away and attempted to get up, get away from him and his stupid amateur psychobabble.

Kell grabbed my wrist, with more force than I’d believed him capable of and yanked me back.

For a second I panicked. Could Kell have a violent streak like Ray? Like my father?

“You will sit here and listen to me if for no other reason than you owe me for the pain I endured.”

Shit. Kevin had been wrong. Kell did have a backbone. Why had he waited until now to show it?

My stomach protested the tequila. I wanted to slink away and drink until it didn’t.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

I didn’t move; this ought to be stunning.

“A beautiful, strong, capable woman with a rock and roll heart and a warrior’s soul.”

I sensed a “but” coming. There always was.

“But, other times, I see darkness. A woman whose secrets, fears, and scars run so deep I’m afraid I’ll get sucked into that black hole. I’ve clawed my way out of those depths once, Julie, and I swore I’d never be dragged down again.”

My fragile hold on my emotions started to slip.

“I’ve spent years distancing myself from my violent childhood. I thought I could overlook the differences between us because I like being with you.”

“But only when I’m ‘happy-go-lucky-Julie-the-party-girl. ’”

“You’ve never acted like you wanted more from me than a good time, Julie.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when you were fucking my brains out, Kell.”

He winced.

Infuriated, I snapped, “And don’t give me that bullshit line about using sex as a way to get closer to me.”

“I could slice you open, crawl inside you, and I still wouldn’t get any closer to you,” he snapped back. He closed his eyes and shuddered. “Shit. Do you see what’s happening? I’m not like this.

Not any more.”

All the righteous anger left me. Kell was right. He didn’t have to stick around and put up with the life I’d chosen. Especially when it was diametrically opposed to the life he wanted.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly. “There’s something else you need to know.”

My laugh left a bitter taste in my mouth. “I don’t think I can stand more honesty today.”

“When those guys were here? I didn’t pass out.”

I gaped at him. “Yes, you did.”

“No. I heard every word. I pretended to pass out. I knew the fun would disappear for them once I stopped screaming,” he said with resentment. “I was awake until the codeine kicked in.”

“So you heard everything.”

“Yes.”

“That’s pretty dangerous knowledge.”

“I know. That’s why I’m leaving town.”

I wanted to ask where, but it was probably better if I didn’t know. I already knew the why.

“The band got a six-week road gig. I can’t play for another week, but I’m going anyway. We’ll see what happens from there.”

“You won’t be coming back?”

“No.”

I turned my head toward the living room window so he couldn’t see my guilty relief. “When are you going?”

“T-Rex will pick me up when I call him.”

My gaze zeroed in on the overstuffed army green duffle bag and grungy guitar case by the front door. How had I missed it?