Someone Bad and Something Blue (10 page)

 

B
y the time I reached my car, I was spitting bullets. I couldn't call Sean's office fast enough. Good thing for him he didn't answer; good thing for me I hadn't spent one dime of that money he gave me to bring back Rosary.

I wanted to call Justus, but I already knew how that conversation would go down.
I told you so, Angel,
in a nutshell. I backed out of the parking space and headed for Bella's school.

When I stopped for a red light I told my handheld phone device to dial Tiger, then hung up. I couldn't tell him anything about this because he had paid me and warned me to stay out of predicaments like this. I huffed.
Who could I talk to?

 

 

“Angel, explain to me why you do everything in your power to ruin the name I gave you,” Mom said while we watched Bella play in the indoor playground at McDonald's.

It was too cold and rainy for her to play outside. We preferred this location because it had a nice fireplace and the franchise owner kept fresh flowers on the tables. Mom called this Budget Brunch.

“Mom, I don't know what to do.”

She sipped her black coffee from her own ceramic coffee cup. “Simple, return the money today.”

“You don't think I should call Elaine?”

“For what? You should have called her when Sean gave you all that money. Too late to involve her now.” She leaned forward. “Are you going to Running of the Brides with Whitney?”

I nodded. “Maybe I should take the money to Elaine after ROTB. Sean can explain himself to us both then.”

“No, you can't keep that money another day. Who's to say that Riddick character and Sean aren't trying to set you up? That money must go.”

“Right.” I sighed and shook my head. “I can't take it to Sean's office, because he's out of town with Elaine on a press junket. There's not enough time for me to get downtown and leave it with his secretary.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“Yep, he lives in Gallery Buckhead.”

It's a high-rise condo on Peachtree Street not far from Elaine's office and Flappers. Sean lived a very good life.

“Wonderful.” Mom clapped her hands.

I frowned and folded my arms over my chest. “And how is that wonderful?”

“After Bella gets her fill of fun we will run over two doors and have Eve at the Suwanee Gift Shop wrap that money in a pretty box with a bright red bow. JJ and I'll take it on our way home. I'll hand-deliver it to the concierge at Gallery. He'll make sure Sean gets his money back.”

My face perked up. “That might work.”

“Of course it will. You're washing your hands clean of this nonsense and sticking it to him real nice-nasty and ladylike.”

“What about Rosie? Should I look for her? Warn her family?”

“If anything happens to that poor girl, you know nothing. You hear me? She should have taken your offer for rehab when she had the chance. Can't save her now and definitely not with Sean's dirty money in your back pocket. Let her own mama fix her situation.”

“Yes, ma'am.” I nodded. I couldn't argue with the truth.

Before Mom and JJ left us, I gave Mom a hug.

“Thank you for helping me, Mom. I don't know what I would've done without you these past few days,” I whispered.

She released me. “You're welcome. However, you might take back your hugs and kisses after you hear my last unsolicited piece of advice.”

“Go ahead and hit me with it.”

“Tell Justus. He was with you when Sean gave you the money. He'll be curious what came of you and him searching for Rosary in ‘Where Black Folks Don't Tread' Georgia this Friday. And he's more than just your boyfriend, baby. . . .” She patted my cheek. “Communication between a man and a woman isn't easy unless you practice. Put the time in. Tell him.”

“I'll tell him when I get home. You call me as soon as you drop the package off.”

 

 

I waited.

 

 

 

And I waited.

 

 

 

Something rang and woke me up. Justus and I had fallen asleep on separate couches in the family room while waiting on Mom to call.

I picked up the phone. “Mom?”

I heard the ringing again. I held the phone in my hand, confused. “What's going on?”

“It's the door, not the phone,”Justus grumbled.

His eyes were still closed. I tapped his foot. “Why are you still here?”

“The door.” He pointed.

“You're going to get in big trouble being here,” I hissed.

The last thing I needed was the neighborhood spreading rumors to the church that Justus had spent the night in my house, although technically he just did. I tried to drum up some excuses for what happened as I stumbled toward the hall.

I peeked through my front door peephole and woke up for real.

“Maxim?”

He stood on the other side of my door wearing a blue tweed jacket, blue jeans, and that black Stetson hat. He looked like a cowboy on a mission to haul my butt to jail.

“Who's at the door?” Justus asked. His voice made me jump.

“Big Trouble.” I gulped.

 

“I
f I knew you were coming over, I would have cleaned my house.”

Maxim and I sat in my home office while Justus hung back in the den. Whitney was still out in the streets. I hated to admit that I was glad Justus was still here. The house felt different at night with him in it. It was a good different.

“No problem. This won't take long,” Maxim said.

He unbuttoned his jacket, placed his hat on his knee, and relaxed in my black and white damask wingback chair. His marshal badge served double duty as a belt buckle. By his demeanor it looked like he would be here longer and he wasn't arresting me.

“Yesterday you mentioned a Rosary DiChristina to me. In fact, you assumed that I knew the woman.”

“Yeah, it was a mistake. My bad. I confused you with another Maxim West.” I giggled, but he didn't laugh. “That was a bad joke.”

“Right . . .” He smirked. “After you misspoke, I received an e-mail from headquarters concerning this Rosary DiChristina and then I realized something. Either you're psychic, or whoever lied to you to get you off their back knew I was coming. I need two things from you.”

“No problem. You need the name of the person who told me about you.”

“No, I've got it on good authority that Sean Graham told you.”

“How do you know that?” I sat up.

“Have you talked to your mom lately?” He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out something, then slapped it on my desk.

It was the money envelope Sean had given me, but where was the box? Where was Mom?

My chest tightened. I hopped up from my seat. “Did you arrest my mama?”

“Sit down and stop being melodramatic.” He frowned and shook his head. “Your mom gave me the box. Okay? Do you know how respected your stepfather is? The man's a legend.”

“I don't know him. She didn't let us know about them until after the wedding.... What does this have to do with the box?”

“Your mother shared your predicament with your stepdad. Out of concern for you both he called my office. I have the box. And you're off the hook.”

“Off the hook for what?”

“Anything that happens from here on out except for my uncle's class.” He stood up and lifted the envelope off the table. “You may need to do some extra credit to catch up in there. Enjoy your night, Ms. Crawford.”

He placed the envelope back in his jacket. I followed him to the front door.

I stepped in front of him before I opened the door. “Maxim, can you tell me what's going on with Rosary? Is she in serious trouble?”

“She's not in trouble with us, but she's a person of interest for a federal case. If we don't get to her before the bad guys find her, however, she will be in trouble.”

I thought about the warning the correctional officer at the Gwinnett County jail had given to me about Rosary. “Does this have anything to do with that jail hooch? She agreed to go to rehab for that.”

He crinkled his nose. “Angel, that's not my jurisdiction. I can tell you that Rosie isn't in trouble with the law. We were the ones who had her charges dropped. She's an informant now.”

“What? Informant?” I stepped back. “So no one bailed her out?”

He shook his head. “She was released, then disappeared. Now we're worried.”

“Have you questioned Sean?”

He rolled his eyes. “His lawyers will be meeting us Friday afternoon to clear things up.”

“Yeah, but that's two days from now.”

He rubbed his hat. “Sean didn't come across to me as being the violent type. I don't think he had a clue what he'd gotten himself into or the people he'd involved himself with. He's not the bad guy. He's the dumb, smug, arrogant one who couldn't live a day in general population and he knows it. I think he was trying to fix this problem on his own. But if you've never been dirty, then you don't know how to get clean.”

“If you've never participated in criminal activity, then you don't know how to cover your tracks. Amen to that,” I said. “Maxim, how many extra credit points will I get if I help you find Rosary?”

“That reminds me of the second thing I need from you.” He grinned. “I need you.”

Someone coughed. I turned around. Justus stood behind me near the staircase. His eyes were on me. He wasn't smiling.

I turned back to Maxim. I felt my cheeks burn. “Umm . . . it's too late to have a coherent conversation. Can we talk later?”

“If you want to help with this, more like if you can, call me.” Maxim handed me his card and tipped his hat to Justus before he skipped down my steps.

I think he even whistled when he walked.

Justus met me at my threshold. “Before I leave, I'm going to say this. Do you hear me?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“If you follow that man into those woods tonight, I'm not coming after you.”

“I can't go if I wanted to. Whitney isn't here.”

“Whitney's been here since midnight,” he said.

“Wait a minute . . .” I closed the door and followed him back to the den.

He was now folding the comforter I had draped over him earlier. “Angel, I have said all that I am going to say on the subject.”

“But I didn't say I was going with him. Maxim didn't say he was going anywhere, as a matter of fact.”

Justus threw one finger in the air. “I do have one more thing to say.”

“The floor's yours.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“His name is ridiculous.”

I laughed. “Are you jealous, Justus Morgan?”

“Woman, I told you I loved you earlier. So what do you think my answer is?”

I walked toward him and flung the comforter out of his hand. “You're being ridiculous.”

“I love you, Angel.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “That was hard for me to admit to you, not because I'm too manly to say it, but because I'm scared you're going to walk out that door one day and not come back.”

“Crap.” I sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“I know your job is sometimes dangerous, but do you always have to sprint toward it?”

“No, but if I don't get you out of my house within the next minute, I'm jumping you.”

“That means I have about forty-five seconds to do this.” He smiled, then kissed me.

His words raced through me as his soft lips almost set me on cloud nine. The reality that I would be calling Maxim as soon as Justus left kept my stubborn feet on solid ground.

 

I
waited until Justus was well on his way home before I tiptoed upstairs to gather my things and call Maxim. When I opened my door, however, Whitney was sitting in my bed. She held a stop watch in one hand, a flashlight in the other, and a pamphlet in her lap.

I turned on the lights. “What are you doing?”

“Checking to see if that kiss between you and Justus beat the
Guinness Book of World Records
.” She pointed the flashlight at me. “Next time he comes over, I need to chaperone.”

“Stop it,” I hissed and nudged her over with my hips so I could sit. “He's going to be in enough trouble for being over here so late.”

“He won't get in trouble if you marry the man.” She turned off the flashlight. “It's gonna happen, so why delay it?”

“Don't be so sure.” I pulled Maxim's card out of my pocket.

“Oooh . . .” Whitney snatched it. “You've only been on one real date with the man and you already creeping on him with Big Hat Hot Body?”

“I'm not sneaking around.” I took the card back and sighed. “Well, not what you think.”

“I'm up, so I'm all ears,” she said. “But hurry up before I get mad that you're treating my pastor bad. You know how we women get about our pastors.”

“If you don't stop with the jokes . . .” I texted a message to Maxim on my phone, then continued. “Big Hat Hot Body is a U.S. marshal and one of my PI class instructors. He's going to give me extra credit if I help find Rosary DiChristina. She's in danger, and get this: Sean Graham is involved.”

“So why are you getting involved exactly?”

“You sound like Justus.” I stood up and went to my closet to retrieve a warm jacket and my steel-toe boots. “Rosie's good people. Her daughter reminds me of Bella. I don't want anything happening to her on my watch.”

“But isn't that the point of your vacation? You aren't on anyone's watch,” she said. “To be honest, I was hoping this time off would help you see that you don't have to be at Tiger's beck and call anymore. I hoped you would meet other bounty hunters in this class and learn that there are other bail bondsmen you can work with, or lawyers, or journalists. You have more options than you realize.”

“Where's all this coming from all of a sudden?” I turned toward her. “I thought you understood why I do what I do.”

“Of course I do. You know I got you. I just don't want you to get hurt, helping people who don't want to be helped. You're a bail recovery agent, not a cop.”

“And that's exactly why I'm going and I'm sure that's why Maxim wants me to come. I don't have an agenda. I just want to find my friend.” I zipped my coat up. “If I'm not back by morning, get Bella to school for me.”

“And what about Justus?”

“If it's meant to be, it'll be.”

 

 

 

Rosary came from a long line of North Georgia Mountain moonshiners. DiChristina was her married and now divorced name. However, Rosary was a Calhoun, seven generations of apple-pie moonshine experts.

We were about forty minutes north of my home in some woods I had never been in. Maxim drove a Ford truck that was modified for mud bogging. The slip differential was lowered to maximize the size of the engine and tire performance, then a snorkel system was installed to raise the air intake, a bigger engine with more horsepower was dropped in, and mud tires were installed. Either Maxim was a bogger or whomever he rented it from just returned from drag racing. Fresh red Georgia clay was splattered all over the windows. I couldn't see a thing.

“Good thing we're not here for a stakeout.” I chuckled.

“One of the most important lessons I learned from Uncle Deacon was surveillance. Surveillance isn't just about sitting in a car waiting for a skip to slip up, so you can drag them back to jail, where they should have been in the first place. Nope. Surveillance is an act of perseverance, courage, and patience. . . .”

I rolled my eyes. “Surveillance is also an act of silence. We need to be able to hear the difference between normal and someone stoking the still.”

He grinned. “So you did pay attention in class.”

I motioned my hands, as if I were zipping my lips.

He chuckled. “I guess you took some miming classes, too.”

I tried to hold my tongue, but he was pushing it.

“I fish in Jackson Lake most mornings,” he said. “That's why my truck looks like this.”

“This is your truck?”

“Yeah.” He turned to me. “What, you thought I asked someone for this?”

“I thought you were dressing like a country boy because that was a part of your marshal shtick. I didn't think you actually were one.”

He gave a crooked smile. That tickled me more. I looked away from him.

“Why do you think Rosary would be hiding out here?” I asked.

“This isn't hiding it's her home and home is the first place
we
look.”

I nodded. “You could be right.”

He turned to me. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I hear footsteps. Someone is coming,” I whispered.