Kicking the Habit (14 page)

“I’m
fine.” Cece brushed off his concern. “No one can get to me now that you’re my
shadow.”

“I’m
no more bulletproof than you are, Sister.” He offered her a fry when he noticed
she wasn’t eating, but she declined. Her appetite was nonexistent, her stomach
filled with worry. “My gut doesn’t lie either, and it’s definitely telling me
something’s off.”

He
scanned the diner for the millionth time. His outward demeanor always looked
relaxed, but Cece knew better. His shoulders had a slight stiffness to them,
and his eyes never stopped moving. She felt safe with him. If someone were to
take a shot at her again, he’d see it coming.

The
front door chimed, and the detective’s gaze shot in that direction. Almost
instantly he relaxed, and a slight smile tipped up the corners of his lips.
“Hey, Benny. Long time, no see. That’s a good thing in my world. Keeping your
nose clean these days I hope.” He still razzed Benny good, but there was less
sarcasm and bite to his words ever since they’d called a truce of sorts.

“You
know it.” Benny pointed his large, meaty finger at the detective and tipped his
gleaming, brown head, looking all spruced up; then he winked at Cece. “Thank
you, Sister.”

“It’s
Cece, remember?” She smiled kindly, curiously wondering what had brought about
his obvious glow. His clothes were clean and pressed; his hat was missing; and
she could smell his aftershave from where she sat.

“Right,
my bad.” He took her hand and kissed it like a true gentleman. Ace frowned but
didn’t say a word as Benny added, “Thank you, Cece.”

She
could feel her cheeks heat. “For what do I owe this pleasure?”

“For
all of your help.” His gaze shot to the counter and softened like the butter on
Millie’s warm Italian bread. Millie blushed to the roots of her rich, dark
hair, but smiled back shyly. “Millie has agreed to give me a shot. We have a
date tomorrow night when she gets off work.”

“Benny,
that’s wonderful. I’m so happy things are looking up for you, both with the
brewpub and with Millie. I believe in karma. When you do good, good will come
your way.”

“Vice
versa, Sister.” The charming sparkle in Benny’s eyes faded, replaced by a scary
hard edge. “When I find the person who hurt you, I’ll—”

“Do
nothing,” Ace interjected, donning a firm no-nonsense look of his own. “Unless
you care to find yourself back in trouble and dateless. Do I make myself
clear?”

Cece
watched Benny’s jaw clench in his effort to control his anger, and she knew Ace
didn’t like anyone telling him how to do his job. Would their newfound truce
end so soon?

“You’re
lucky I like you,” Benny finally said, and then growled, “You’d better keep her
safe, Detective.”

“That’s
the plan, Parker.” A muscle in the detective’s jaw bulged as he threw down some
money and stood. “Enjoy your date. You ready, Watson? We’ve got work to do.” He
held out his hand.

Cece
took it and stood. “It was great to see you again, Benny. Stop in my clinic any
time.”

“Will
do. You take care now.” He wandered over to the counter, his anger gone as
quickly as it had arrived when he spotted the object of his desire. He sat down
with a massive grin on his face and fell into conversation with one very happy
Millie Sherwood.

Cece
followed Ace outside with satisfaction in her heart. A blast of chilly air
caused her to suck in a sharp breath. She let go of his hand and clutched the
opening of her pea coat closed. “I bet we have snow by Halloween.”

Ace
grunted. “Halloween. Now there’s a holiday I could do without.”

“Worried
Granny will find a way to make one of her spells work on you?” Cece couldn’t
help but tease him a bit.

“Something
like that.” They started walking toward his truck, when he pulled out his keys
and held them up with his thumb on a button.

“What’s
that?”

“My
new toy.” He beamed. His truck was his prized possession, and that included any
gadgets that went with it. “A remote car starter so I won’t have to freeze my
as—” he shot a guilty look at her “—butt off anymore this winter. Care to do
the honors?”

“Wow,
you’re letting me touch your truck?”

“Only
from afar. I’ve seen you drive, remember?”

“Very
funny,” she mimicked his words.

“I
try,” he copied back.

Cece
smirked, then snatched the keys from him and pointed them at his truck, firmly
pressing the button.

A
loud explosion boomed, and Ace’s truck burst into flames. Cece screamed as they
were both thrown backward by the force from the blast. She hit the grass hard,
just beyond the blacktopped driveway, and the wind whooshed out of her lungs.
Air. She needed air. It felt like forever before blessed oxygen filled her
lungs. She sucked in breath after breath, and finally the world around her
stopped spinning. She remembered where she was and what had just happened, then
scrambled to her knees.

Ace
lay still beside her, flat on his back on the pavement. He had a small cut on
his forehead and a piece of metal lay about a foot away. Her heart started
pounding in her chest. She laid her fingertips at his throat and could have
cried when she felt a strong heartbeat. His chest rose and fell with deep
breaths, but his eyes remained closed. He was alive, and right now that was
enough.

“Ace,
can you hear me?”

Nothing.

“Please,
Detective, wake up.”

Still
nothing.

“I
could be in danger,” she said in a desperate plea.

Not
so much as a twitch.

Without
thinking, she placed her hands on either side of his cheeks and pressed her
lips firmly against his in a frantic effort to gain a response. His eyes sprang
open, and he sat up all in one motion, wrapping his arms around her protectively.
Then just as quickly he let go of her, grabbed his head, and groaned. “What the
hell happened?”

“A
bomb went off,” she said carefully.

His
gaze locked onto hers, and he froze. “Are you okay?”

“I’m
fine. I just had the breath knocked out of me because I landed on the grass,
but you were out cold for a while until I …” She felt the heat all the way to
her ringing ears. “Anyway, you’re awake now. How’s your head? You hit the
pavement pretty hard. You might have a concussion.”

“Wait,
back up.” His confused eyes searched hers. “Bomb?”

She
bit her bottom lip and slowly nodded.

“Where?”
His face transformed into an expression of dread as he awaited her response.

“Your
truck,” she squeaked.

Pain
or no pain, he surged to his feet and spun in the direction where he’d parked
his truck. “Son of a bitch!” He stared at the burning pile of rubble and
doubled over to catch his breath. “Not my truck,” he muttered more to himself.

“I
swear it wasn’t my fault,” she rushed to say. “Do you think it could have been
a faulty remote car starter?”

“Not
a chance. That bomb was planted. Looks like being bulletproof is the least of
our worries. What I don’t get is why the sniper who killed the senator and has
been taking potshots at you suddenly changed his M.O.”

“Maybe
because it wasn’t working for him. We are both still alive, after all.”

“For
now.” Ace looked concerned, the wrinkles in his forehead knitting deep. “Maybe
his methods weren’t working for his boss. Whoever hired him is changing the
game. If we don’t stop them soon, there’s no telling what they’ll do next.”

Ace
stepped away to call the incident in, when Cece noticed blood on the ground. At
first she thought it was from the cut on the detective’s head, but then she
noticed a trail. Following the faint trail, she wandered just a few feet away
to a dumpster. Peeking inside, her stomach heaved. She knew exactly what they
would do next, and she’d been right. Something terrible had happened today, but
not to Li or to them. A man she didn’t recognize lay flat on his back with a
bullet between the eyes, the same way the senator had died.

Except
this man had a pack of Clove cigarettes in his pocket.

Friday
morning Ace and Cece sat in his office in the police station, waiting for
Rocco. The walls were white, with no pictures or anything personal. Just a
desk, a couple of chairs, and a filing cabinet. Cece couldn’t tell whether it
was because he didn’t want to talk about his family or maybe didn’t want anyone
he was questioning to have something to use against him. Candy had told her his
parents were divorced, and he’d moved away with his mother after some scandal
had happened. When he finally moved back, his father was gone, leaving behind
no forwarding address. Something told her that whatever had happened was linked
to Ace’s issues with the church.

One
wall was all windows and looked out into the station. Ace closed the blinds and
sat on the edge of his desk, sighing wearily. He had on his usual dress shirt,
tie, and faded jeans, with his sport coat draped over a chair. Cece had also
worn one of the only pairs of jeans she owned, with a soft sweater, but she’d
chosen to leave her hair long and loose after living through an explosion meant
to kill them both. She sat in a chair in the corner and waited for his partner
to arrive. Even in the quiet room, you could still hear the hum of conversation
and activity happening in the busy station outside the door.

“What
did the doctor say, Jackass,” Rocco asked, as he marched through the office
door and kicked it closed behind him with the heel of his snakeskin boot.

“That
I have a concussion, ass-wipe,” Ace retorted, rolling his head and stretching
his neck.

“Your
ass is concussed? Well, I’ll be damned,” Rocco snickered.

“You’re
not damned. You’re a moron, is what you are,” Ace muttered.

“I’d
call you ‘gentlemen,’ but right now you’re both acting more like boys,” Cece
said, reminding Ace of her presence.

“Sorry,
Sister,” Ace said, looking startled for a moment.

 How
on earth had he forgotten she was right there, Cece wondered. His partner was a
bad influence on him, for sure.

“What
he said—me too,” Rocco added, looking contrite as he smoothed his slicked-back
hair. “We meant no offense. Some habits are hard to break.”

“I
appreciate the effort,” Cece responded. “I’ll pray for you.”

“And
I’d appreciate some answers.” Ace quickly changed the subject.

“Victim’s
name was Lou Castanza.” Rocco checked his notes. “Your grandmother called the
police station this morning when she saw his picture on the news.”

“You’re
kidding?” Cece said, floored and a little worried. “Um, how exactly did she
know him?”

“She
saw him in the woods behind the mini-mart the morning of the senator’s death,
when she was collecting squirrel’s tail and gun powder.”

“So
that’s why she kept insisting you could find gun powder at the mini-mart.” Ace
looked over his own notes. “Right time and place, as well as the clove
cigarettes. Is he our sniper?”

“Sure
is. He was staying at the local motel. We searched it about an hour ago and
found the same weapon used to kill the senator.”

“Does
he have any connections to Sloan?” Ace asked.

“None,
but he has a record a mile long. He’s known for being involved in shady jobs
for hire. This is the first murder where he’s gotten caught, but who knows how
many he’s gotten away with?”

“Yet
he changed his M.O. That doesn’t make sense. He’s a sniper, not a bomb maker.”

“The
question is, who hired him?” Cece asked, seeing the surprise on Ace’s face. She
was good at being silent, listening and observing. She could tell it unnerved
him.

“Good
question,” he responded, recovering quickly. “Let’s see where we are. What have
you found out, Rocco?”

“Okay,
so we have Li and Eleanor. Did either of them hire Lou to off the senator
because they loved him and didn’t want him with anyone else? Neither one has an
alibi,” Rocco pointed out, pacing as he talked.

“True,
but Walker the janitor didn’t have an alibi either, plus he has gun knowledge
and connections. He would know where to find a man like Lou. He also didn’t
like the senator or his politics. Maybe he wanted to get rid of him so his
opponent could win. He seems the most likely suspect, but there’s nothing
concrete to tie him to the crime.” Ace jotted something down in his notebook.

“Councilwoman
Reynolds was at a campaign event, so it couldn’t be her. Mayor Evans was in a
secret meeting with Sloan Sr., so he has an alibi; it couldn’t be him either.
Sloan’s wife says she was at home while her children went to school, so she
couldn’t have done it. Her staff is vouching for her, although money can buy
off hired help pretty easily. But any one of those three could have hired a hit
man to do the job for them.”

“Rocco
has been looking into other leads while I’ve been protecting you,” Ace said by
way of explanation. “It was the only way I could keep him away from Candy.
Let’s just say I owed her.”

“Don’t
let her fool ya.” Rocco stopped pacing and pointed at Ace. “The woman wants me.
She just doesn’t know it yet.” Then he wagged his brows on a cheesy grin to
Cece.

“Oh
brother, don’t even get him going,” Ace said to Cece, and then he focused on
his partner. “So what’d you find out? Anything new?”

“You’re
not gonna believe this,” Rocco replied, all business once more, “but I know why
the mayor was blackmailing Sloan Sr.”

“Don’t
keep me in suspense. What is it?” Ace stood, no longer able to sit still.

“He’s
old man Sloan’s illegitimate son from when he cheated on his wife, making the
mayor the senator’s half-brother. That’s how Evans has such nice things. Sloan
Sr. bought him off to keep him quiet. He didn’t want anything ruining his son’s
campaign.”

“How
does the councilwoman play into this?” Ace asked, sitting back down in stunned
silence.

Cece
could relate. Lord only knew what other interesting secrets the people in this
town were hiding.

“The
mayor got greedy. He sold the info to the councilwoman—that Sloan Sr. was buying
votes for his son’s campaign. She discovered the mayor was also blackmailing
the old man, so she turned the tables on them both and threatened to expose the
scandal to the media.”

“Then
why didn’t she?” Ace’s brow knit as he tried to make sense of it all.

“Because
she has goodness in her heart,” Cece said, attempting to keep the hope alive
that all people had at least some level of good within them.

“Sorry,
Sister, but not exactly,” Rocco clarified. “More like she had a scandal of her
own.”

“That’s
what I was afraid you were going to say.” Cece’s shoulders slumped a bit.

“No
sh—I mean, no way,” Ace said, refusing to glance at her and let her know the
influence she had over him, but she knew better. At least she was having a positive
impact on one person in this town.

“Reynold’s
stance is pro-life. She’s happily married with children now, but when I did
some digging, I discovered she’s at odds with her sister. Let’s just say I have
a way with women. It didn’t take much charming to get her sister to admit that
Sloan Senior paid her for the dirt on the councilwoman. If the fact that she
had an abortion when she was sixteen leaked out, her political career would be
ruined,” Rocco said.

“That’s
why they keep meeting,” Ace interjected. “They’re trying to find a way to buy
each other’s silence. No one is honest these days. What a clusterfu—mess,” he
amended hastily mid-sentence.

“You’re
telling me,” Rocco responded, giving him a knowing look. “And I thought our job
was nuts.”

 “Well,
I personally think you’re both being a little judgmental and unfair,” Cece added,
putting in her two cents.

“Judgmental?”
Ace asked.

“Unfair?”
Rocco added, and they both stared at Cece.

“All
of these people have more to them than the trouble they are in. Everyone has a
past, and many of us have secrets we’d rather not have leak out.” Cece looked
them each in the eye until they squirmed. “The point is we don’t have all of
the facts yet.”

“No,
but we do still have a murderer on the loose. People are not as good as you think,
Sister,” Ace responded.

“I
know, but people are also not as bad as you think either.”

“And
let’s not forget, someone is trying to kill you both,” Rocco chimed in.

“I’m
not likely to forget that any time soon,” Ace rubbed the bump on his head and
then added, “especially since the rental car they gave me is the size of a
postage stamp.”

“So
where does that leave us?” Cece asked.

“Running
out of time,” Rocco answered.

“With
a whole lot of nothing,” Ace finished.

In a
stunning turn of events, on Saturday morning the church janitor Mumfry Walker
turned himself in. Ace and Cece watched through the one-way mirror as the Federal
Agents, Wallace and Rogers, questioned him in a room with no windows, a single
table, and a few chairs. Mumfry sat on one side, and Wallace and Rogers sat
across from him, with the man’s signed confession on the table before them.

“Let
me get this straight,” Wallace said, removing his sunglasses and cleaning them
while he scanned the confession and talked to Mumfry. “You’re confessing to the
crimes of murdering Senator Sloan, Lou Castanza, and attempting to murder Cece
Monroe and Detective Ace Jackson?”

“That’s
right.” Mumfry shrugged, looking cleaner and more put together than Ace had
ever seen him, in what looked to be brand new clothes, and without so much as
breaking a sweat or looking concerned in the least. He certainly didn’t act
like a typical guilty man, filled with remorse and concern about the outcome of
his future.

“You
sure you don’t want to wait for your lawyer?” Rogers asked, staring at the man
with a raised brow and a bit of disbelief.

“Nope.
I already called who I need to. They’ll be here soon. In the meantime, I know
what to say. I temporarily went insane,” Mumfry replied, sounding rehearsed. “I
have connections. My lawyer will get me off,” he added with conviction.

“Fine
by me—it’s your life. How did you say you knew Lou Costanza?” Wallace asked.

“I
knew him from when I served. He’s ex-military with a shady past and an avid hunter
like me.” Mumfry beamed with pride. “My kind of people.”

The
man wasn’t insane; he was delusional, Ace thought.

“The
church took me in because I had no money,” Mumfry continued. “They were good to
me, but nobody else was. I killed the senator because his stance was anti-guns,
and he was a pain in my ass. He wanted to pass all these crazy new gun-control
laws. We hunters have rights too, you know, but the stubborn fool wouldn’t
listen to a word I said. I liked the councilwoman because she was going to put
money into the town, and her stance is pro-gun rights, although she turned out
to be a bitch.” Mumfry rubbed his eye, and a look of hatred and anger swept
over his face. “Politicians are the real criminals.”

“Why
try to have Miss Monroe and Detective Jackson killed?” Rogers asked.

“The
Sister would have been just fine if she’d kept her nose out of places it don’t
belong,” Mumfry growled. “She knows something she’s not telling, but she and
the detective are looking pretty chummy these days. Who knows what she might
have told him over pillow talk.”

Cece
let out a little gasp, and Ace felt his blood run cold over the mere thought of
bedding her. The memory of her touch still burned if he thought about it long
enough. He certainly found her attractive, and damn if she didn’t look sexy
with that mass of curls hanging down her back. He was already on the A-list to hell,
and unlike his old man, he didn’t need to rush the process. Neither one of them
spoke, staring straight ahead through the glass instead.

 “They’re
a liability.” Mumfry looked right at the glass as he added, “Loose ends are
meant to be snipped.”

Ace
knew Mumfry couldn’t see them, but Cece still stepped back a bit, placing her
hand on her chest and biting her bottom lip. Ace patted her arm awkwardly, and
she shot him a grateful smile, then stood a little straighter, refusing to let
the scumbucket get to her. Ace felt pride surge through him. She really was a
remarkable woman, especially after all she’d been through.

“What
about Lou? Why kill him?” Wallace asked, drawing Ace’s attention back to the
interrogation room.

“The
man’s a moron,” Mumfry answered matter of factly. “He’s had several chances to
take them out, but he’s messed up every single one of them. He doesn’t deserve
to call himself a professional hit man. Sometimes you just gotta get your hands
dirty and do the job yourself.”

“Why
confess now?” Rogers asked with a frown.

“Like
I said, I snapped.” Mumfry shrugged. “Temporary insanity. End of investigation.
I’ll take some R&R, get the help I need, and be back on the streets in no
time. Isn’t it great how the system works?”

“Nice
try,” Wallace said. “Temporary insanity involves going a little crazy and not
being aware of what you’re doing. Hiring a hit man involves premeditation.
Killing
the hit man is simply cold-blooded murder in the first degree.” Wallace leaned
into him with a sneer as he finished with, “You aren’t going anywhere for the
rest of your sorry life except behind a set of cold, hard bars.”

Mumfry’s
face paled, and the first inkling of doubt swept over his features. “I think
I’ll wait for my lawyer before saying any more.”

“Unfortunately
for you, I think you’ve said plenty,” Rogers responded, and then added, “Enjoy
that R&R, Mr. Walker. See you in court.” He slipped his shades on as he and
Wallace left the room, sending in a couple of armed officers who took Mumfry
away.

Ace
led Cece out of the interrogation room booth and into his office. She had on the
same snug jeans that did things to him he’d rather not say, topped with a different
sweater this time, and had left her glorious hair down once more, appearing on
the outside like a normal woman. But she wasn’t a normal woman; she was an
innocent ex-nun and so damned petite. Even with the self-defense training, it
wouldn’t take much to overpower her.