ONE SMALL VICTORY (16 page)

Jenny swallowed. The intensity of his gaze
held her, yet she couldn’t fathom what was in the depths of those
incredible eyes. Did she dare follow her instinct to lean into him?
Whoa, girl. Back off. He probably isn’t even headed where your mind
went.

She stood again. “I should get home.”

“I’m going to stay a little while.”

Her shadow touched his face and clouded his
expression. Should she offer to stay with him? Was he okay? Should
she just go? It would be nice if I had a cue.

When one didn’t come, she shrugged. “I’ll
call when I have something to report.”

“Sure.”

Walking back to her car, Jenny tried to
figure out what had just happened. Or was it more what didn’t
happen. At one point his look had appeared to be one of interest.
Either that, or she’d lost all ability to gauge the opposite sex.
And she was sure that the confidence he’d shared wasn’t one he
tossed out to every person he worked with. That had to mean
something.

Then again, it had been a long time since
she’d been in this awkward emotional dance between two people. She
may have read it all wrong. If he harbored an interest, wouldn’t he
have made some move? If the electricity was real, not just
something she imagined, certainly he would have felt it, too. Then
again—

Put it to rest. This is a working
arrangement. Nothing more. And you have more important things to
worry about.

To keep her mind from wandering that path
again, Jenny spent the hour it took to drive home trying to think
of something that would ease the tension between her and Scott. If
she could just buy some time, she could get through this without
destroying the tenuous hold they had on their relationship.

Maybe a couple of nights at home would help.
He’d seemed to appreciate it last time, especially when she made
the apple pie. She could resort to bribery again if she had to.

When Jenny walked in the back door, she saw
Alicia sitting at the kitchen counter, dipping Chips Ahoy in a tall
glass of milk.

“Mmmmm. That looks good.” Jenny dropped her
purse on the counter and grabbed a glass out of the cabinet. “Can I
join you?”

Alicia giggled. “That’s silly.”

“What’s silly.”

“The way you asked.”

Jenny smiled as she straddled a chair and set
her glass on the table. She grabbed a cookie. “Did you make me
proud at school today?”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Don’t you know?”

Alicia shrugged. “We didn’t get any marks
today.”

“That’s okay, Honey. I was just goofing
around.” Jenny finished her cookie and took another out of the bag.
“Where’s Scott?”

Alicia shrugged again and took a bite of a
soggy cookie.

“Didn’t he meet you after school and walk
home with you?”

“Nope.”

“Doesn’t he usually?”

“Mostly. Sometimes he forgets. Or sometimes
he’s with Caitlin.”

Jenny hoped that’s all it was; simple
adolescent forgetfulness and not some retaliation against her.

The jangle of the phone claimed her
attention. Jenny hopped up and went to lift the receiver. She’d
barely said ‘hello’ when Ralph’s angry voice assaulted her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Eating cookies.”

“Don’t be a wiseass.”

“Don’t shout at me.” Jenny saw Alicia look up
with interest and wished she’d kept her voice lower.

“Scott called.”

“Oh.” Jenny turned and walked into the
hallway, bracing for whatever onslaught was to come. She should
have realized it was going to be bad when Ralph’s opening gambit
repeated Scott’s accusation almost word for word.

“He told me you’ve been acting strange
lately.

”

“Well, life is hardly normal now, is it?”

“Don’t hand me that crap. You’ve been staying
out half the night. Not working. Don’t expect help from me when the
bills pile up.”

Only the knowledge that it would fuel his
anger kept her from laughing out loud. “Don’t worry, Ralph. We’ll
manage. We always have.”

He either didn’t pick up on the sarcasm or
chose to ignore it. “How can I not worry? When will I get another
call from Scott?”

“You won’t.”

“I’d better not.”

“Or what?” Jenny fought to keep from yelling.
Alicia didn’t need to hear them fight.

“Let’s just not let it get that far.

”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. I’ll let the court do that. Remember.
Custody can be revoked.”

Long after he broke the connection the words
roared through Jenny’s mind like a spring flood rushing through a
gully. Could that really happen? Would he dare? Not that any judge
would easily give custody to Ralph. He didn’t have an exemplary
record as a caring father. But then he could make one hell of a
case against her if he wanted to and Scott continued to complain.
The system had snatched kids away from parents on less provocation
than her brand of neglect.

She walked back to put the handset on the
receiver and glanced at Alicia who paused with a cookie in one
hand. White drops of milk dripped off the cookie and splashed on
the tabletop. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“Nothing, Honey. That was Daddy. We just had
to work something out.”

“Didn’t he want to talk to me?”

Jenny winced at the forlorn note in her
daughter’s voice. How long before she wouldn’t even ask any more?
Jenny sighed. “He probably didn’t realize you were home. The time
is different where he lives.”

Alicia dunked her cookie again and took
another bite. Then she looked up again. “Next time, tell him I’m
here. Then he’ll talk to me.”

“Sure.” Jenny went to the sink so her
daughter couldn’t see the lie on her face. It seldom mattered if
she told Ralph the kids were home. Most often he would make some
excuse that he had to call them back, and most often that would
never happen.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Squinting against the late-afternoon sun,
Chico stood at the edge of the pool and watched the Cuban flail
against the water like a fish trying not to get caught. It reminded
him of the time he tried to teach his cousin to swim. All the boy
had accomplished was to stir the water in the creek so hard it had
taken hours for the silt to settle. Some people were just not meant
for the water.

“He’s doing laps,” Solly said. “Doesn’t talk
to anyone while he’s doing laps.”

Glad the Boss couldn’t see how he struggled
to keep a straight face, Chico waited for the wild churning of arms
and legs to end. If Frank had any opinion about this sad excuse for
exercise, he didn’t voice it. But then Chico knew the other man
hadn’t climbed the corporate ladder by having opinions out loud.
Maybe it would be in Chico’s best interests to work harder on
impassive.

It was a moderate day for November but not
warm enough for a swim, and Chico wondered why the Boss did this
kind of work-out when he had enough money to buy an entire gym. The
steam that billowed from the pool indicated it was a lot warmer in
the water than out, but still, Chico wouldn’t be swimming on a bet,
sunshine or not.

The Cuban splashed to the ladder and pulled
his lean body out of the water. Chico saw goose bumps erupt across
the exposed skin that was streaming with moisture. Solly quickly
stepped forward and handed over a large, plush towel.

“Good for the heart,” the Cuban said,
gesturing to the pool as he walked over to Frank and Chico. “You
should try it.”

Chico wasn’t sure what kind of response was
appropriate; certainly not some wiseass remark about getting a
bigger payout so he could afford a fuckin’ pool. But Frank kept his
mouth shut, so Chico followed suit.

“What’s so important you boys had to come all
the way out here?”

“That woman, Connie. She’s got what it
takes.” Frank said. “Came after Chico here with a goddam gun.”

“How come he’s still walking?”

Chico blanched at the callousness of that
comment, risking a quick glance at Frank. He touched the scar on
his face in a gesture Chico had seen only once before; when Frank
had been ordered to take out that mule who’d been seen talking to
the cops. The twelve-year-old boy was rumored to be Frank’s
nephew.

Frank dropped his hand and offered a smile.
“Guess she didn’t want him dead. Said it was payback from us
ripping her off. Did it real slick, too.”

“And I need to know this because?” The Cuban
draped the towel over his shoulders and held it closed like a robe
as he walked toward a portable bar.

Frank followed, talking as he went. “Chico
wants to use her to push even more merchandise in North Dallas. I
think she’s good for it.”

The Boss glanced at Chico. “You trust
her?”

He nodded, doing his best impression of
impassive.

The other man opened a decanter of scotch and
held it aloft, the question inherent in raised eyebrows. Frank
shook his head, and again, Chico followed that lead. Not that he
didn’t want a drink. A good strong shot would calm the jitters in
his stomach, but it would be suicide to betray any nervousness by
accepting.

After pouring two fingers of amber liquid in
a crystal glass, the Cuban took a swallow, then looked at Chico.
“How much can she move?”

“She’s been handling a few bags now for a
while. Figures she could double that easy. Maybe about two g’s
worth.”

“A week?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be some pretty big parties.”

“Not that many people. But they’re all
high-rollers. And they party all weekend.”

The Cuban finished his drink and poured
another, then turned his gaze back to Chico. “You think you’re
ready to take the next step up my corporate ladder?”

Chico fought to keep from shifting his weight
under the intense scrutiny. “Yeah, Boss.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The reprimand was issued softly, but it rang
so loud in Chico’s mind he had to swallow a surge of fear that rose
like bile.

“Yes, Sir,” he repeated when he found his
voice.

The Cuban ambled over to an ornate
Wrought-Iron patio table and sat in the shade provided by the
umbrella. He didn’t indicate that the other men should sit, and
Chico shot another quick glance at Frank for a cue. The other man
stood expressionless at the edge of the shade. Chico stayed with
him.

“So,” the Cuban said, directing his focus on
Frank. “What little task should we have our boy do?”

Chico read the real message behind the
ambiguous words, and this time he couldn’t stop the slight shift of
weight as the significance hit him. The Cuban was dangling the
carrot, but Chico would have to pay one hell of an entry fee to
join the race. Did he really want to?

Getting in this deep had never been part of
his long-range career plan. He just wanted a couple of good years
running enough pushers to make a nice nest egg. Then he’d be on the
first plane heading for a destination at least a thousand miles
from here.

“We got that little problem in Denton with
Johnny,” Frank said.

“Maybe Chico here can teach him a
lesson.”

Again the message clamored behind the
harmless-sounding words, and Chico remembered the ill-fated chess
game a few weeks ago. There was a new man running the Denton
franchise and nobody knew for sure where Lazano had ended up. Some
thought he’d been shipped back to Cuba. Others speculated that he’d
never survived the ocean crossing.

And now there was a problem with the new
guy?

Chico didn’t trust himself with words. He
gave a slight nod.

“Take care of it.” The Cuban waved a limp
hand in Frank’s direction.

“Yes, Sir.”

The Cuban smiled at Chico. “See how nice and
polite he is?”

Chico did his best to match the Boss’s smile
as a cold, stone of dread settled in his stomach.

~*~

Jenny sat at her desk with the phone pressed
to her ear.” I think that whole thing was a test,” she said. “And I
passed when I—”

“Don’t even say it. As far as I’m concerned
that never happened.”

Suppressing a laugh as she imagined Steve
putting his hands over his ears, Jenny continued. “They’re letting
me move more stuff. I think I should go for the big score
soon.”

“Don’t rush it.” Steve said.

Noticing that Mitchell had walked into the
back room, Jenny hunched over her desk and lowered her voice. “I
can see the end of this looming. Let’s just finish it up.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to the rest of the team.
Don’t do anything until you hear from me.”

“Sure.” Jenny hung up and turned to see
Mitchell still standing there. His expression indicated he had more
on his mind than just getting supplies.

“I’m worried about you, Jen.”

“What’s to worry about?” She tried to brush
past him, but he stepped in front of her.

“This has gone way beyond grief.”

Jenny moved back to the work table and picked
up a bunch of zinnias and plucked broken stems, hoping if she just
ignored him, he’d give it up. But she should have known better.
Mitchell, for all his effeminate ways, was not one to back
down.

“It’s not like you have to confide in me
about everything. But don’t shut me out.” He stood next to her and
leaned one hip on the edge of the table. “Something weird has been
going on with you. And that scene with Scott a couple of weeks ago
was something else. You did an admirable job of blustering through,
but you never did answer his questions.”

Jenny concentrated on wrapping the orange and
russet flowers in tissue.

“You’ve had an uncanny way of avoiding
questions of late, Jen.” Mitchell’s voice had lost the edge of
challenge and softened with a touch of concern.

Feeling boxed in by his proximity and his
worry, she sidled to her right. She needed to think. What could she
possibly say that would satisfy him? An outright lie was not an
option. She’d never been able to pull that off with even a casual
acquaintance, let alone someone she’d worked with for years.