Jarod's Heart (King Brothers Stories #2) (6 page)

“Why?”

“I guess the home was in pretty bad shape, and it was obvious to Jarod that the kid had been neglected for a long time.”

“What happened to the parents?” Julie growled.

Since Julie had stepped up to take care of her brother at a young age, it was incomprehensible to her that some people neglected their own children.

Lauren understood her feelings all too well.

“The usual. Both Avery and Luanne are in jail, and the little boy is in foster care.” Lauren shook her head at the stupidity of it. Some people didn’t deserve children. “I’m so glad you were able to keep Charlie. I can’t imagine how he would’ve turned out if he’d gone into the system.”

“Or how I would’ve turned out if I’d lost my brother and my parents at the same time.”

“Good point,” Lauren agreed.

“The best thing that came out of that situation was how close Charlie became to Jason and Josh. Heck, even Jarod helped, and that was about the same time that Miranda walked out on him,” Julie said.

“Gosh, you’re right. Sometimes I forget that everything happened in the same year—your parents’ death, you dropping out of college to care for Charlie, and then Miranda, that cow, broke Jarod’s heart.” Lauren was angry all over again. “I never liked that woman.”

“Me either,” Julie agreed.

After another twenty minutes of Miranda-bashing, Lauren finished her pow-wow with Julie and hung up the phone.

V
isions of the little boy’s room and the stench of its filth plagued Jarod all night. He kept envisioning how the neglected Decatur boy had lived, and it reminded him of the pigsty where he’d finally found Miranda holed up, doing drugs. He couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to live in such filth. Every drug bust he made was a painful reminder of that horrible time, a big punch in the gut, because it made him question what kind of husband he had been.

How could a man—especially one trained in law enforcement—not know his wife was a drug addict? Had he been that neglectful, that self-centered? They’d been high-school sweethearts, each other’s first love, or so he had believed, and she’d run away from him instead of working out their problems.

Thank God they’d never had any children. Finding the little boy in that…he wouldn’t call it a home…prison cell, hiding in fear amid the filth and neglect, suffering from God only knew what horrors, was almost too much for Jarod.

The way Avery and Luanne had ignored their child was incomprehensible. The boy could have been a stray dog, for all they had cared. Jarod didn’t understand how someone could forget their own flesh and blood like that.

Family was everything to Jarod, and his father had made damn sure that his sons understood that family was the most important thing in the world. He had taught Jarod that honor, integrity, and standing up for those who were unable to stand on their own were duties. And there was nothing more precious than a child.

Jarod strongly believed that there was a special place in hell for parents like Avery and Luanne. Jarod sincerely hoped that the boy would be placed in a good home and not lost in bureaucratic red tape. Jarod would do everything in his power to see that the Decaturs never got their little boy back, even if it meant going to every parole hearing they had until their sentences were up.

Jarod contemplated all of this on his way to work the next morning. The small amount of snow that had stuck to the ground last night had been gone before the morning commute had begun. It should be a relatively calm day for traffic, thank God.

He wasn’t looking forward to any drama when he entered his office, but, alas, Marguerite was waiting for him when he walked through the door.

“How bad was it out there, Jarod?” she asked without preamble. She must’ve really been starving for information.

“’Bout what you’d expect from two lowlifes who cared more about getting high than caring for their kid,” he said without looking at her as he cruised through the break-room door, effectively cutting her off.

“Hey.”

Lauren was sitting at the break table eating her yogurt. Her blue eyes were soft with concern.

“Hey,” he replied, a little chagrined. He hadn’t meant to dump on her yesterday; it wasn’t his way.

Seeing his regret, she immediately slipped into her professional persona. “The Decatur reports are typed and ready for your signature. I’ve put them on your desk. A public defender was sent over to conference with the couple for their arraignment hearing.”

She stood and threw her empty yogurt container away.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She was wearing a pretty red dress this morning that seemed to emphasize her amazing figure. His gaze drifted to her bare legs, which gave him a shock. Wasn’t she cold? The heating system in the building worked well, but she still had to walk from the parking lot to the building, and this morning’s weather was brisk and damp from yesterday’s storm. The sky was blue, and the weatherman had promised the temperatures would rise back up to the low sixties this afternoon. Maybe she was banking on the warmer temps today.

“Is there a problem with my legs?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Startled to have been caught ogling his secretary, he jerked his eyes back to hers. Seeing the humor in her baby blues, he smirked and said, “Absolutely none, Ms. Lockwood.”

Giggling, she said, “There is no way in hell that I am calling you
Mr. Grey
.”

He had no idea what the hell she was talking about. He glared at her when she laughed outright at his confusion.

“Never mind, Jarod. I’m flattered all the same.” She turned with her offensive smiley face mug and walked out of the break room.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his plain mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. The carafe was full, so she must have just made a fresh pot.

God bless her.

Brad stopped him on the way back to his office.

“Avery won’t say who he was cooking for, and any evidence was destroyed in the explosion and subsequent fire.”

Jarod laughed. “So you don’t believe he’s the ringleader any more than I do?”

Brad shook his head, “Avery is too stupid to lead anything, Jarod.”

“I know. Whoever he is, the bastard is too crafty to leave behind any evidence. Hell, we don’t even know if it’s one man or a group of people. We’ve got nothing.”

Jarod stalked into his office and closed the door. The problem was getting worse, and he had no leads. Nothing pissed him off more than chasing his tail when he was trying to figure out a puzzle. He’d have to start looking at the problem from a different angle.

Crystal meth was a serious problem in Nevada. Until a few years ago, Timbisha had been a sleepy little community untouched by the problems of the big cities of Las Vegas and Reno. Now the problem was moving into his community, and it was quickly becoming his personal white whale. He’d made several busts in the past five years, swearing to clean up the problem that had forced his wife to leave him, but even though he had put some dealers behind bars, the bigger problem remained. He was missing something. He had to find the source, and none of his busts had led him to any answers. They’d all been dead ends.

LAUREN DUG IN
to her work, ignoring Jarod as much as possible. The attention would embarrass the both of them, especially after the teasing she had received from Brad yesterday, and she didn’t want any rumors floating around for Marguerite to spread. But it was hard to keep her mind on her work with him just a few feet away in his office.

Her prayer for a distraction was answered when Eli strode in and plopped down in the chair next to her desk. He looked tired. His brown eyes were bloodshot, and his eyelids were at half-mast. It looked like he’d lost a little weight, too. The late shifts and lack of sleep were catching up to him. He’d arrested a teen last night for a Minor In Possession, or MIP. A high-school kegger had gotten out of control, and neighbors had called the cops.

“Hey, Lauren,” Eli sighed.

“Hey, Eli. You okay?”

“Oh, sure. A little tired, though. I hate busting kids as a rule, but it’s especially hard when they are so loaded on whatever they’re using that they don’t even understand that they’re being taken into custody.” He shook his head.

“Have you contacted his parents yet?”

“Yeah, they came down and got him last night,” he chuckled. “I don’t think he’ll have much of a social life for a while.”

“Pretty upset, were they?” she smiled.

“An understatement. I don’t envy his morning when he sobers up,” he chuckled.

“That just means they’re good parents,” she confirmed.

“I don’t know about that. They seemed more upset over the inconvenience of picking him up than the fact that their son was using drugs.”

Lauren thought about that. The family was a part of Timbisha’s upper echelon, so maybe the partying had been a cry for help.

Before she could expound upon that thought, Eli said, “God, I hope my child doesn’t rebel too much as a teen.” Eyes bleak, he admitted, “I just don’t know if I could handle it.”

“Oh, Eli, you and Caroline are going to be wonderful parents, you’ll see.” She gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.

“I hope you’re right.” He sat in silence for a second before he asked, “What kind of monster would get a child hooked on a lethal narcotic? How do they live with themselves?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but I’m sure you’ll catch them.”

Brad walked in the door and headed for them. “Who’s a monster?” he asked.

“Drug dealers,” they said in unison. She grinned at Eli. “Especially those who deal to children,” she clarified.

“Ah,” Brad said. “You busted Aiden Lawlor last night. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, at a high-school kegger.” Eli explained what had transpired. “Sophomore. Too damn young.”

“Agreed,” Brad said, pausing for a moment before he continued. “I suppose the kid didn’t volunteer who was supplying?”

“Not before his dad picked him up. I’m hoping he’ll talk some sense into Aiden to help us apprehend the ringleaders. Maybe the DA could make a deal with them,” Eli pondered.

“You’re willing to cut a deal?”

“It’s the kid’s first offense. Why ruin his life when he can help us catch the bigger fish?”

Brad sighed. “Well, let me know how I can help, Eli. Maybe one of us could reach out to the Lawlors. I know your wife is getting close to her due date. You should be home with her, right?” He put a hand on Eli’s shoulder.

“Oh, I will, but this could make my career, too,” he said, and then added, a bit hopefully, “Maybe I can get my shift changed, at the very least.”

From Lauren’s standpoint, she didn’t care who busted the creeps responsible, so long as the ring leaders were off the streets.