Divorced, Desperate and Dead (Divorced and Desperate Book 5) (24 page)

“To feel a little less lonely.” The words fell off her tongue. Tonight, she hadn’t felt lonely. Tonight, she’d been too busy feeling . . . alive. Even when someone was trying to kill her.

“No one likes to feel lonely.” He squeezed her hand.

“What are you asking for?” she asked.

He seemed surprised at her question. “I don’t know. Tonight has been . . . great.”

“I didn’t like getting shot at,” she said.

“No, that part wasn’t good. But this . . . us talking, laughing, it’s been nice.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” He leaned in to kiss her again, but stopped right before his lips brushed hers. “I should . . . go.” He let go of her hand.

Don’t go.

Two words. That’s all she had to say and she felt almost certain he would stay.

He stood up. She stood up.

“Oh, you were supposed to text your friend that you got here okay.”

She forced a smile. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

He reached up and brushed a finger down her cheek and across her lips. “If you can’t sleep, call me, we can talk.”

“About what?” she asked.

“I don’t care,” he said and he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the side of her mouth.

Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go.
Just say it. Say it! She nodded and watched him walk away.

• • •

J.D. stood across the street, hidden behind a garbage dumpster. Pablo was there, with another guy . . . a new guy, John something. J.D. knew sooner or later, Pablo would send John home, just the way he’d sent J.D. and Carlos home. And Pablo would head out somewhere quiet to do what he always did. He’d take the little bag of drugs he’d pinched from all of his sales and find someplace to get high from his stolen stash.

J.D. and Carlos had both figured out what the guy was doing. While he wasn’t stealing from Jax, he was stealing from his customers. And the gang leader depended on his customers coming back.

Neither J.D. nor Carlos had said anything because they knew Jax wouldn’t take it kindly. They hadn’t disliked Pablo enough to bring the gang leader down on his ass. But both of them hadn’t wanted to be partnered up with him, in case some smart customer called them out and the blame came back to them.

But now, Pablo had something J.D. wanted. So he sat in wait for John to be sent away, and when Pablo was least expecting it, J.D. would move in.

The feel of the gun against his waist made him sweat. He’d have to use it, or Pablo would use his. He just hoped threatening Pablo with it was enough, because if he had to pull that trigger, it was just going to be another thing weighing on his conscience.

• • •

Cary walked into Glencoe hospital. The smell carried him back to the memories of his mother. Oddly, even after spending five days here himself, it was still his mother’s memory the astringent smell brought on.

That thought took him back to hearing Chloe talk about her dad. To the pain he’d heard in her voice.

He’d sat in Chloe’s mother’s driveway for about three minutes, arguing with himself about leaving.  What he wanted to do was to walk back inside, pull her against him, remove that red dress, discover the red underwear, remove that, and slowly, carefully, love her until she called out his name.

He wanted to drive all thoughts of that Jerry out of her mind. The guy didn’t deserve to be there. He wanted to see her smile, to see her happy, he wanted to erase all of the unhappy moments in her life.

Yeah, that’s what he wanted, but here he was in the hospital. Because if he’d learned anything in his life, it was that wanting something and getting it were two different things.

He hoped to find out if Carlos Santos’ beating had anything to do with J.D. Andrews and the drive-by shooting that could have sent both him and Chloe back to Room Six.

Not a soul except him stood in the lobby of the hospital. He passed a large mirror and his refection had him remembering he wasn’t actually dressed to ask any family members questions.

Slowing down, he noted the small blood stain on his gray sweats.  He rubbed the side of his leg. Other than a slight throb every now and then, amazingly it almost didn’t hurt anymore. While he’d been at Chloe’s bakery, he’d scrambled through her First-Aid kit and found a large Band-Aid.

He glanced back at the mirror. Logic said he should go home, prop his leg up, and sleep for eight hours. He considered it for about two seconds. Forget that. He wasn’t going to sleep, not with Chloe on his mind, her taste still on his lips. And her question playing in his mind.

What are you looking for?

Footsteps sounded in the distance.

“Hey, Cary?” Someone called out his name as he walked up to the elevator to head to the surgical waiting room. Turning, he saw Jason Dodd, moving toward him. He felt his gut tighten with what that probably meant. The kid who’d been beat up had died, and it was now a homicide case. One he might even be working when he got back to work. And damn it, he hated working on dead kid cases.

Chapter Twenty-six

“Hey,” Cary said as Jason stopped just when the elevator door opened.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked.

“The kid didn’t make it?” Cary asked his own question instead of answering.

“He was alive the last I heard,” Jason said. “But since it was iffy, the sergeant wanted someone to go ahead and talk to the family. That, and the connection to the earlier shooting. Can I assume that’s what you’re doing here?”

“You can assume,” Cary said. “Just don’t mention you saw me to the sergeant.”

They walked into the elevator. “Oh, guess what?” Jason said. “When I went home, I was telling Sue about you and Chloe Sanders. She’s knows her. They’ve met a couple of times at writing events. She said we should have you two over for dinner soon. Are you guys up for something next week?”

Cary watched the elevator door close then ran a palm over his face. It wasn’t so much the invitation of dinner that bothered him, it was the fact that he liked the idea. Liked the idea of him and Chloe doing something like a couple. Having dinner with friends.

“Look, Chloe and I aren’t . . . we’re . . . it’s just. . .”

“You’re still fighting it, huh?” Jason chuckled. “Hey, fight if you can. But if it’s the real thing, accept it.”

“Yeah,” he said, wondering why the hell these guys thought they had the right to pass out advice.

The door opened and they stepped out. The waiting room was right around the corner. About six people looked up—desperation and sleep deprivation in their expressions. They were all sitting, waiting for a doctor to come out with news of loved ones. Five of the people appeared to be with the same family. Both he and Jason looked at the Hispanic guy waiting by himself, texting something on his phone.

“Are you with the Santos family?” Cary asked.

The guy stood up. “Yeah. I’m Moses Santos. Carlos is my brother.”

“We’re with the Glencoe police.” Jason pulled back his shirt to show his badge. “I’m Jason Dodd and this is Cary Stevens. We’re looking into the case. Have you heard any news on your brother’s condition?”

“The nurse came out about thirty minutes ago and said the surgery was going well.” He closed his eyes a minute. “Did you catch the guys who did this?”

“Not yet. Do you know who did this to your brother?”

“I don’t know anything.”

Cary could tell from the guy’s expression he knew something. He could also tell he was hesitant to share. “Look, we know your brother was in the gang.”

“Yeah, he was in the gang,” Moses snapped. “Half the kids we grew up with are in the gangs. It doesn’t mean he deserved this.”

“We know that,” Cary said.

Jason jumped in. “Look, we want to help. We want to get who did this to him.”

Moses looked down and shuffled his feet as if debating answering. “The word is, that his own gang did it. I don’t know why, though.”

“Do you know if your brother is friends with a J.D. Andrews? He’s got real white skin. An albino. Also a gang member.”

He saw the guy’s eyes widen with recognition. “Yeah, they know each other.”

“Just know each other, or are they friends?” Cary asked.

“I don’t know, man,” Moses said and glanced away.

He was lying, Cary could read it in his body language.

“Have you heard from or seen J.D.?” Cary asked.

“No,” he said, with the same lack of conviction.

Frustration pulled at Cary’s patience. “Look, if you want those responsible for hurting your brother caught, you have to be honest with us.”

“I told you what I know,” he said.

Right then, a doctor and nurse walked out. “Santos family?”

“Right here,” Moses said.

The doctor shook Moses’ hand and looked at Cary and Jason as if he knew they were cops.

“The surgery went as well as can be expected,” the doctor said. “We stopped the internal bleeding. Your brother is holding his own, but we’re not sure of the extent of his head injuries. Time is going to tell. When he leaves recovery, we’ll be taking him to ICU. If you want to follow the nurse, she’ll show you where that is.”

Moses offered his thanks, then followed the nurse out the door. Cary walked after him, pulling a card out of his wallet as he went.

“Hey,” he said.

Moses stopped and looked back. Cary handed the guy a card. “When you decide to be honest with us, call me.”

The guy didn’t say anything, but he took the card.

Cary shot back inside.

The doctor and Jason were talking. “Like I said, I don’t know if he’s going to make it or not. But whoever did this wasn’t just trying to teach him a lesson, they were trying to kill him. And it’s a damn miracle that they didn’t succeed.  Anyone who could do this to another human being needs to be caught and taught a few lessons themselves.”

“What did they use? Just their fists?” Jason asked.

“Their fists, sticks, a tire iron. Hell, that kid had so many different types of bruises and injuries, I lost count. Find the animals who did this, will you? Find them before they do it to someone else.”

“That’s the plan,” Jason said.

Cary got a sick feeling as the doctor’s description filled his head with images. Even sicker, when he realized those were the guys looking for Chloe.

• • •

“You reach for your gun, and I swear to God I’ll shoot you.” And J.D. prayed to God right then that he wouldn’t have to. But just to show Pablo he meant business, he poked his gun into the guy’s side.

After Pablo sent John off, J.D. followed the guy to the next alley.

“Well, if it ain’t the Ghost,” Pablo said, holding his hands up. “Jax is looking for you.”

“Yeah, I heard.” J.D. reached with his other hand and took the gun from the guy’s waist. He took a couple of steps back. “Now empty your pockets.”

“Oh, man, you gonna steal from Jax? You know what he does to people who do that.”

“I’m not stealing from him,” J.D. said, “but I’ll bet he’d do the same to you if he found out you were slighting his customers and using it yourself.”

“I’m not doing that,” Pablo lied, sounding panicked. Did he really think no one had noticed?

“Yeah, you paid for the coke you were about to put up your nose, huh?” J.D. motioned to the bag of powder on the garbage can lid at his feet.

“What do you want?” Pablo asked.

“I told you, empty your pockets.”

Pablo tossed the money on the ground. “He’ll get you for this. You’ll pay just like Carlos did.”

The mention of his friend’s name had all of J.D.’s muscles knotting in his stomach. “Did you hurt Carlos?” J.D. asked.

“We did what Jax told us to do. Don’t we all?”

Fury burned in J.D.’s chest, and for one second he wanted to hurt Pablo. He wanted to pull that trigger, but logic told him to just get what he’d come for and leave. “ I said to empty everything out of your pockets,” he told the guy and gave him another poke in the ribs.

Pablo pulled out a couple extra bags of coke, and went back into his pockets. Finally, he pulled out what J.D. was looking for. “Now go over there and lay down on your stomach.”

“Why?” Pablo asked, his eyes wide with fear. “You gonna shoot me? You gonna make me lay down and shoot me in the back?”

“I should, for what you did to Carlos. But no, I’m not. Just get down. Now!”

Pablo shifted back one step, then two. Then he hauled ass running.

J.D. didn’t bother going after him. He grabbed what he’d come to get and took off in the opposite direction, back to his truck.

In the distance, he heard Pablo yelling to someone, probably another gang member. Now, J.D. felt the panic. He jumped into his truck. His hands shook so bad he couldn’t fit the key in the ignition.

In the rearview mirror, he saw shadows running toward the truck. Then he heard the popping sound of a gun.

• • •

Cary and Jason parted ways. Cary started the engine with the intention of going home. Then the doc’s words echoed in his head.
Find the animals who did this, will you? Find them before they do it to someone else.

And those monsters were after Chloe. He cut off his engine and pulled out his phone, went to the Internet, and Googled Chloe again. If he’d found her address, could he find her mom’s? And if he found it, those animals could.

In less than three minutes, he had Chloe’s mother’s name and address. “Shit!”

• • •

Chloe lay in her old twin bed and stared at the ceiling with the phone in her hand. She’d raided her mom’s closet for something to sleep in, and found a new toothbrush in a bathroom drawer. She’d texted Sheri and let her know she’d arrived. Sheri hadn’t texted her back. If it hadn’t been so late, Chloe would have called her. It was late, but Chloe was far from ready to sleep.

If you can’t sleep, call me, we can talk.

His words played in her head. Did he mean it? She looked at the bedside clock. He’d been gone over an hour. And it was almost one in the morning. Was he already sleeping?

A better question was, why wasn’t she sleeping?