Ninja Soccer Moms (6 page)

Embarrassment climbed up my neck to splash all over my face. I jerked on my arm.

Gabe let go.

I overbalanced and almost fell backward, but Gabe caught me by wrapping both his hands around my upper arms. “Easy, Sam—” the rest of his words were lost in the revving of an engine. With Gabe's hands still on my upper arms, all three of us turned to find the source of the noise.

A tan Ford extended-cab truck sprang out of a parking space by the street, squealed toward us, and skidded to a halt behind my car and Gabe's truck.

Lionel Davis threw open the cab door and jumped out, grabbed something out of the bed of the truck, and ran toward us up on the sidewalk.

“Let her go!” He waved something in the air.

Oh, God—he had a tire iron! He waved it madly as he plowed between Gabe's truck and my car, straight at us.

“Christ.” Gabe let me go, whirled around into a crouch, and launched himself, hitting Lionel hard in his gut. They both flew down on the blacktop between the cars. The tire iron clanged down on the sidewalk where Gabe tossed it. Then he flipped Lionel over on his stomach, yanked a pair of handcuffs out from the small of his back beneath his jean jacket, and cuffed him.

I stared at it all with my mouth hanging open. Then I heard the murmur of voices behind me and turned around. The entire beauty shop had come outside to see what happened. I heard Sophie say, “It's always trouble around her.” I turned back.

With his knee in Lionel's back, Gabe looked up me. “Let me guess. He's your accident-prone client from Heart Mates.”

“Uh, yeah.” Lord, could I look any more ridiculous in front of Gabe's mom? In my best professional voice, I added, “I have the release form in my car for you to run a security check.”

“He failed.” Gabe stood and pulled Lionel up with him.

Lionel lifted his gaze to me. “Samantha, are you okay? Did I get here in time? I saw him attack you!”

Attack me? Gabe? “Lionel, what are you doing here?”

“I followed you. To protect you. Been watching you since you pulled into the parking lot after going to that nursery.” His big brown eyes were wide with sincerity. His nose dripped blood onto his white shirt to mix with the oil smears from the blacktop.

“You followed me? Are you nuts?” No, really, I just wanted to know. Was he a lunatic? 'Cause I collect lunatics. Swear to God. Other women collect jewelry, purses, Cabbage Patch dolls. Me? I collect lunatics.

“I'm not nuts. After leaving your office this morning, I heard about the murder that happened last night. Seeing as how you're always in the paper involved with murders and all, I decided to protect you. Once we start dating, I can protect you all the time.” He stopped talking and wiped his nose on the shoulder of his shirt. His cuffed hands clanked together.

I didn't know what to say to that.

Apparently Gabe did, though. He was laughing.

“Stop that!” I ordered him. Embarrassment blew hot through my body.

He laughed harder. Bent over with his hands on his well-cut thighs, he roared with hilarity.

I glanced over at the tire iron on the sidewalk. If I picked it up and whacked Gabe, he'd stop laughing. I was not going to be laughed at—especially in front of my boyfriend's mother.

But Iris got to the tire iron first. She picked it up off the ground, stood over her son and banged the tire iron in her hand. “Gabe Pulizzi, I didn't raise my sons to be disrespectful.”

Gabe stopped laughing.

Now there was a woman I could admire. Turning to Gabe, I glared at him. “Uncuff Lionel.”

His dark gaze flashed. “Let the cops deal with him, Sam.”

With his mom watching? I didn't think so. First, I wanted to show her I was capable. Second, I really think that from Lionel's point of view—he did see Gabe grab my arm, let go, then grab me again—it looked like I was in trouble. While I knew I was in no physical danger and that Gabe had grabbed me to keep me from falling, I suppose Lionel could have misinterpreted what he saw. “He's
my
client. Uncuff him.”

Gabe sighed and pulled out a small silver key. He undid the cuffs while his mom walked over and tossed the tire iron into the bed of Lionel's truck

“Go home, Lionel. We'll talk later. I'm really not sure that Heart Mates is the right place for you.”

“But . . .” He threw up both arms, looking teddy-bear sincere.

I was tired. This case was confusing as hell, my boyfriend was trying to push me out, and Angel had reappeared with a insane smile that promised bad things for me. On top of that, I had a missing, hysterical client and a dog acting weird. How many disasters did I have to deal with at once? I started with Lionel. Putting my no-nonsense mom stare in place, I said, “Go home. Now!”

Wiping his nose with his arm, Lionel shuffled over to his truck. He got in, took out his nose spray and did a few nasal whiffs, then put the idling truck in gear and drove away.

I looked at Trixie, Sophie, and the rest of the women staring at Gabe. Not Lionel, not me, Gabe. Like he was some kind of scrumptious chocolate snack. My temper crackled. “Show's over.”

“All right, ladies, let's go back to work.” Trixie shepherded everyone back inside.

Iris touched my arm. “Samantha, Gabe says you have two sons.”

Uh-oh. I was a mom. I knew that look. She was worried about her son dating me. But would she pick right here in the parking lot in front of a beauty salon to tell me I was all wrong for her son?

Why not? Lionel picked here to prove his love.

“Yes, TJ and Joel.” I didn't know what else to say.

Iris pulled her shiny black vinyl purse off her arm and undid the clasp. “We can't have you getting hurt then. Here—” she pulled out an object—“take my gun.”

“Gun!” I shouted, then clamped both my hands over my mouth and looked around. These days, screaming
gun
was a lot like screaming
fire.
Instant panic.

“Cool!” Angel materialized between Iris and me.

Gabe caught Iris's hand. “Mom, put that away.”

“Yeah, Sam's afraid of guns,” Angel whispered, like it was shameful.

I looked at Gabe. “Your mother carries a gun?”

“I was all the kids had left,” Iris answered, “after their father was killed. I wasn't about to let some thug leave my children orphans.”

That I could relate to. “Iris, I can take care of my sons. I'm not going to leave them orphans.” Gabe's father was killed? I knew he'd died young but . . . God, he never told me anything. I wondered: was that why Gabe had become a cop instead of a firefighter, like his dad was? His brothers became firefighters, too. He has one sister, who is a paramedic.

Iris seemed to consider that. “Well if you need a gun—”

“Do not give Sam a gun!” Gabe hissed.

I glared at him. “Stop making decisions for me.”

His jaw twitched, and I saw a lump forming on his right temple. Gabe looked at Angel. “Will you take my mom inside? Mom, this is Angel.” He waved his hand to introduce the two women. Then to his mom, he went on, “Call me on the cell when you're done. I'll pick you up.”

Angel grinned her thousand-watt smile. “Hi, Iris, your son is quite a hunk.” Their voices faded as they entered the shop.

I looked at Gabe. “You never told me your father was killed.”

“My father was killed. Feel better?”

I stared at him. “You're a little testy today.”

His jaw twitched. “Sam, you are in over your head. This case isn't just about some small-town embezzling now. It's murder.”

“Yeah? Well, thanks to your client's version of my meeting with Chad yesterday, now Vance considers me a suspect.” Gabe had once told me that the police had their own agenda and I'd better look out for my sons and myself. I wasn't going to tell him about Janie and the insurance on Chad. We weren't sharing that kind of information.

Gabe narrowed his gaze. “Vance is blowing smoke to get you to cooperate with him.”

Gee, his concern and caring were overwhelming. “I'm not backing down. Sure, I won't get paid, but Janie's my friend. And something about this thing smells. Bad.” I tilted my head up and dared him to argue.

Gabe folded his arms across his chest. “I offered you a deal this morning.”

We were at a standoff. Both of us were stubborn as hell and putting our respective clients first. Janie might not be an actual client, but it was important to me to help her. It was important to me to make a difference in Lake Elsinore. “Tell me what's up with Dara first.”

His gaze stayed on me. Cars whipped by. Blow-dryers turned on and off. Female chatter floated out the door. And Gabe didn't move. “You can't do it without me, babe.”

“Is that a challenge?” I hated that Gabe didn't trust me enough to just tell me. He expected me to trust him that much.

His face hardened. “It's a fact. Go ahead, Sam. Try to solve this without my help.” He turned and headed for his truck.

I glared at his back. “I will!” I didn't want to acknowledge the anger and fear rocketing through my blood. Once Gabe had fought to save me; now it seemed he was off saving another woman.

He wrenched open the cab door, then looked back at me. “You can try, sugar.”

T
hat was the second time today Gabe got the last word.

Then drove off.

I stomped to my T-bird and got in. I needed a plan. Gabe Pulizzi was not going to win; I was not going to fail. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and dialed Janie's number. When she answered, I kept my eye on the beauty shop and said, “Janie, it's Sam. Did you talk to Sophie Muffley yet?”

“No. What's going on, Sam?”

I explained Sophie telling everyone in the beauty shop not to talk to me, and accusing me of misleading Janie. “You know I'm not a licensed private detective, right, Janie?”

“Yes, I know. But I want you to find who killed Chad, Sam. Sophie and them, they are part of the problem with Chad. They let him get away with whatever he wanted as long as he brought home the championship for SCOLE. I knew you'd be different.”

I could hear the desperate anger in her voice, but I wasn't sure at whom the anger was directed. Once, I'd been angry at all the people I'd thought had been my friends in soccer and the PTA who never told me about my husband's hobby of women. But eventually I understood whom I was really angry at—myself. I had the feeling Janie was in that same place. “Okay, Janie. I've actually got an idea of how to get started. But I want you to be prepared. Sophie and some others may try to pressure you to leave things alone.”

“You think they are hiding something? Like they knew Chad was embezzling?”

“Could be. Are you up to it?” I heard her breathing for a few seconds.

“I have to be. Yes, I'm up to it. Sam, what do I do about that detective? Should I give him the paperwork on Chad's insurance?”

I bit my bottom lip, thinking. Gabe would know the answer to that. I figured it would be best to go strictly honest. The thing about Vance was that he was a by-the-book guy. If I found evidence that led him away from Janie, he would follow the evidence. “Give him a copy of the policy when he asks again, but don't volunteer anything.”

“Okay. And Sam, thanks.”

I jumped when the passenger side car door opened. I'd been so engrossed in my thoughts that I forgot to watch the beauty shop.

Angel slid into the passenger side and pulled the door closed. “Three guesses who Gabe's mom started chatting up real friendly-like in Mom's shop.”

I looked through the window into the shop. There were Iris Pulizzi and Sophie Muffley with their heads together. “He sent his mother to spy on Sophie. But the question is, why? What is Gabe after? What does Dara have to do with this whole mess? She's the one that found Chad . . .” I trailed off, thinking. “It has to have something to do with the missing soccer money. And Sophie worked for Chad in his office, where the soccer books were kept. She's a logical person to talk to. Damn sneaky sending his mother, though.”

Angel lifted a delicate red-tinged eyebrow. “Almost as sneaky as putting a tracking device on Gabe's truck.”

I smiled and started the car. “Pull out your tracking stuff, and let's follow Gabe.”

 

 

It took a little bit of driving around, but we spotted Gabe's truck parked in a housing tract on the corner of Machado Street and Lincoln.

It was the same housing tract where Chad Tuggle lived. Or had lived. “I think Gabe's doing a little breaking and entering.”

Angel put her GPS screen, which she had been tracking Gabe's truck on, back in her large purse. “Why?”

“Don't know, but it's something to do with why Dara hired him. Chances are good that it's information connected to Chad's murder since it's Chad's house.” I realized I had several reasons for desperately wanting to solve this case. Helping Janie was number one, but proving myself to Gabe ran a close second. We had been building a sort of loose partnership, both personal and business. That came to a screeching halt with his demand that I work with him without knowing the facts of Dara's case. I meant to find out what Dara hired Gabe for.

I slowed down as we passed the street Chad lived on. His two-story house was three houses up the street. There were no cars in the driveway or in front. Gabe had parked two streets over.

Two could play at this game.

I went one street the other way and parked. “Come on, let's see if we can find out what Gabe's doing.”

We got out of the car. We walked around the block in the cool after-rain sunshine. “How do we get in?” Angel asked.

I considered that. “My guess would be the side garage door. Chad always left that unlocked during his soccer games. When I'd been team mom for him, he sent me back to his house lots of times to get stuff he'd forgotten.”

Quickly, we passed the first two houses on the street. Chad's house was cream stucco with a peach trim. Approaching on the garage side of the house, I motioned to Angel to follow me. Quietly I went up to the six-foot wood fence and pulled the string to release the latch on the gate.

The rain had made the wood swell, and I had to shove to get the gate open. I prayed Gabe didn't hear anything. We stood on the long strip of cement that ran the length between the house and the fence. Straight ahead opened up into a small yard. I could spot half of the fishpond. There was a built-in pool hidden by the house from were we stood. Janie had hosted many team swimming parties so I knew exactly how the backyard was laid out.

Our goal was the door on our left, which led into the three-car garage. Walking softly in my boots, I reached out and tried the doorknob.

It turned.

My blood started pounding in my ears. What if Gabe was in the garage?

What if the killer was in the garage?

What if a vicious dog was in the garage?

“Sam?” Angel whispered behind me.

“Right.” I needed to find out what Gabe was after. No more stalling. I reached into my purse and pulled out a canister of pepper spray. Then I turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open. The garage was dark and smelled like a wet blanket.

I stepped inside, followed by Angel.

As my eyes adjusted, light from the opened door showed a workbench, tools, and on the far side of the garage, one of those all-in-one weight things bolted to a support pillar. It looked like it came straight off an infomercial. All that was missing were the male and female hard-body models discussing how they only used the machine five minutes a day for a week.

No cars were in the garage. Chad's Explorer must have been at work when he was killed. Had the police impounded it? Would he have hidden the soccer money in his car?

I turned to the white door that led through the laundry room into the house. Glancing at Angel, I whispered, “Maybe we should have some kind of plan.”

Angel gathered her long red-with-black-tips hair into a ponytail, then twisted it up on her head and somehow made it stay there. A few stray wisps floated down around her face. “We want to sneak up on Gabe, hide, and see what he's doing. How much of a plan do we need?”

I glared at her. “What do you think the chances are of us pulling this off?”

She grinned, practically lighting up the garage. “He's not expecting us to be here. And don't forget, he's got to go back and pick up his mom. He'll be distracted.”

This might actually work. I hoped. “Okay, why don't you look around downstairs, and I'll look upstairs? All the bedrooms are upstairs, so I'd think Chad would have an office or something up there.”

“Sure.” Angel waved her hand to the door.

I reached for the door handle. Chad never had a house alarm when he was married to Janie, but now that he had taken up embezzling from SCOLE, maybe he'd put in an alarm.

But if Gabe was in there, he would have disarmed the alarm.

It was hard to get a full breath.

“Sam, are you going to let Gabe have the last word?” Angel whispered behind me.

“Hell, no.” Squaring my shoulders, I tucked my purse back behind my hip, clutched my pepper spray, and turned the door handle.

It wasn't locked. Slowly, we eased open the door and went into the laundry room. The washer and dryer were on the right. Carefully we closed the door.

We were in. No alarms blared, and so far, Gabe hadn't caught us. I headed straight to where the laundry room turned left into a small hallway that led to a downstairs bathroom and family room.

This was probably breaking and entering. Maybe even crime-scene tampering. But there had been no crime here. And since Janie was the ex-wife and probably inherited everything as the kids' guardian . . . I turned off my spinning thoughts. If I had a hope in hell of outsmarting Gabe at this, I had to focus.

A squeak overhead froze me to the tile. Angel stopped beside me. We were on the threshold of a large family room. I looked up at the ceiling.

That squeak had to be Gabe up on the second floor. Had he heard us? I glanced at Angel.

She gestured for me to go on. I knew she'd keep watch down here. Quickly I looked around to get my bearings. We were facing the family room. It had a big black leather couch with recliners built in, facing a huge big-screen TV. Chad had redecorated. I wondered how much that TV and couch cost. I remembered the clean but worn furniture in Janie's mobile home. Chad still owed her money for the house and didn't pay the kid's health insurance premiums, but he bought new stuff for himself. What a guy.

The kitchen was through the family room. On my left was the stairs, then the living room. Quietly, I headed for the stairs.

Naturally they went straight up. No little turns to hide in while climbing up. I took a deep breath, tucked my can of pepper spray back in my purse, and started up the stairs while straining to listen.

Halfway up I heard clicking. Familiar clicking. I strained to place it. It sounded like . . . Grandpa on the computer! Was Gabe on Chad's computer? What was he looking for? Something to do with the missing soccer money? At the top of the stairs, I stopped.

The stairs opened to a balcony on my right that overlooked the living room, filled with a pool table. I wondered where Angel was. Probably snooping through the kitchen. I went left, where I had my choice of either going left again to the master bedroom or right to the three remaining bedrooms.

The clicking stopped.

If Gabe walked out of any room, he'd see me.
Quick, where to go?
The kids had the two bedrooms past the bathroom, so I guessed Gabe was in the bedroom with the door just to the right. It used to be Janie's sewing and craft room, but I was sure Chad had changed it. I tiptoed to the wall and quietly edged to the door. Holding my breath, I listened.

Nothing. Maybe he wasn't in there. There was only one way to find out for sure. I took a deep breath to control my pounding heart and calm my breathing.

Quietly, I put my left hand on the door molding and inched my body around so that I was pressed up to the opening. Then I leaned around, took a quick peek into the room, and pulled back.

Leaning back against the wall, I thought about what I saw. There had been a big desk for computers sitting in the middle of the room. It had been black and tubular with a flat-screened monitor sitting in the middle.

Had the monitor been on? I'd seen the back of it, so I didn't know. I saw the window across from the door with the shade drawn down. A gray chair pushed back from the desk and nothing else.

No Gabe.

Maybe Gabe was in the master bedroom. There could be another computer in there, or maybe the clicking I'd heard wasn't a computer at all. Quickly I glanced right. One of the double doors to the master bedroom stood open. I could see a dresser and past that, a sliding glass door that led out to a balcony that overlooked the backyard. No sign of Gabe.

Crap. Maybe he wasn't even here. Maybe all I'd been hearing was the house settling.

But that had been his truck outside a couple of streets over. Where did Dara Reed live? Did she live in this tract, and Gabe was seeing her?

Screw it, I was going in the room. It looked like Chad's office and right now, I needed all the help I could get.

I leaned around the doorjamb and looked into the room. The desk was set in the middle, sort of catty-cornered facing the door. I thought I saw a glow from the monitor. If it was on, then Gabe was probably in the house somewhere. Maybe even in the room. I scanned the room from the right all the way to my left and almost screamed.

Gabe grinned at me. He stood flattened against the wall with his head turned to watch me.

“Looking for something?”

I stepped into the room and put both hands on my hips. “Why are you hiding? You almost gave me heart failure!”

Gabe pushed off the wall. “Why are you skulking around a dead man's house?”

I tried for an exasperated look. “I'm not skulking. I'm . . .” I trailed off and tried to think. Why would I be in a dead man's house? “Uh, I'm here to get Chad some burial clothes and . . . I heard a noise.” I turned my back on Gabe and looked at the desk. There was a stack of newspapers, and the top one had a picture of Chad. In the middle of the desk, the flat-screened computer monitor was on. There was a picture of a soccer team, with Chad and Rick Mesa beaming beside them. What had Gabe been doing? “Your truck's not parked out front, so I didn't think anyone was here.”

I jumped when Gabe put his hand on my shoulder. “I didn't hear your car either, babe. Seems to me you might be breaking and entering.”

“Actually, I walked in the garage door.” I stared at the computer, trying to figure out what was wrong. The picture on screen was called wallpaper or something like that, but it seemed to be missing something. Gabe's hand kept me pinned.