Someone Bad and Something Blue (7 page)

 

J
ustus wanted to take a drive to the airport to watch the planes come in. He took us to the roof of the South Parking Garage Deck of Hartsfield-Jackson airport. He paid a parking fee to the attendant and found a place away from the other plane watchers and photographers. He then opened my door and escorted me to the back of his truck. The air up here was cool, but there was little wind. Novembers were always warmer than mid-March for some odd reason. I didn't have to wear my gloves, but I needed my jacket and scarf.

Justus flipped open the back truck door and reached for a large blue plastic bin. I peeked inside. There were two blankets, a thermos, a picnic basket, and a Bible.

I smiled. “Wow. So you planned this?”

“I was hoping.” He pulled out one blanket and draped the back floor of the truck. “Did you bring the pie?”

I raised the Holeman & Finch's pastry box up in my hand. “Dessert Part Deux.”

We sat down on the truck bed beside each other. He poured hot chocolate into ceramic mugs out of the picnic basket and draped the other blanket across my legs. I watched him and imagined myself being cared for like this every day. Gabe had been romantic, vibrant, and intelligent, but Justus, he was all that and something I didn't think I'd wanted until now. He was a family man.

“Can I ask you some questions that I've been wanting to ask you since I first learned that you were a bounty hunter?” he asked.

“As long as I get to ask you a few questions I've been dying to ask later on,” I said.

“Fair enough.” He nodded.

“How did you get into bounty hunting?” Justus asked.

“It's a weird story. Hard to believe, really . . .”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“I was pregnant and distraught and unemployed.” I sipped some hot chocolate. “If I had known I was pregnant before I let my big ego call the shots, I wouldn't have resigned from
The Sentinel
.”

“Why did you quit in the first place?”

“I became angry after Gabe died. I blamed them for everything that had gone wrong for me at the time.”

“You never fully told me how Bella's father died. What happened?”

My stomach churned, but as I obser ved Justus, I knew that spilling this out would be okay. I could trust him. The only trouble was my heart was still too bruised.

I exhaled. “Justus, what happened is too messy to discuss while watching Delta aircrafts land. I don't want you to think that I am that same person now. Maybe I'll feel up to talking about that later.”

“Sure. You can tell me at breakfast,” he said.

“Breakfast?” I giggled and noted the time. “You act like there won't be any time for us to see each other again.”

“Woman, it took you months to finally go out with me. We'll be married and on our third child before this conversation comes back up.”

I spat my cocoa across the truck deck. Some sprayed across his shirt. I gasped.

He looked down at me then.

“I'm sorry.” I shrugged. “You caught me off guard.”

“You're always on guard, Angel, but I'm not.” He wasn't smiling when he said that. He unbuttoned his shirt and revealed a white undershirt. He put the jacket back on, which covered the wife beater. “Tell me what happened. Please . . .”

I gulped. He wasn't going to let this go and he was going to use his gorgeous physique to hypnotize the truth out of my behind. I tried to cover my face with my hands, but couldn't. “Did you have to strip in front of me?”

“That's not what I was trying to do.” He touched my arm. “I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry. We don't have to go any farther if you don't want to.”

Justus's rich honey-colored skin shimmered against the moonlight. I wanted to run my hands along his taut biceps, but he would never know it. I continued as if he had not offended me at all, which he hadn't.

“It was fine, I was visiting Mama D—that's Big Tiger's mother—actually, I was at her place picking up some fried catfish, cheese grits, and hush puppies that would put Holeman & Finch's food to shame. You know she sells soul food on the backside of the BT Trusted Office. The pregnancy made me crave comfort food. . . .” I rambled so fast I couldn't catch myself.

“I was sitting there stuffing my face when Tiger sat down and offered me a job. He had heard from the East Lake grapevine that I was no longer at
The Sentinel
. Said he needed a pregnant woman to hang out with in the lobby of an ob/gyn. Apparently, a nurse was dating some dude who missed his court date. Tiger was hired by another bondsman to bring the guy in. He had learned that the guy always comes through Thursdays to take her to lunch. He offered me $500 to sit inside and let me know when he came in. I did. It was my first job.”

“Interesting.” Justus chuckled. “So how did you become—”

“The Black Sheep of
The Sentinel
and, if I'm not careful, the Jezebel of Sugar Hill Community Church?”

He caught one of my arms. “Stop it. You're fine. Like a local legend. Is what I meant.”

“Oh that . . .” I sat back. He released my arm. I slid my hands into my lap. “Well, I quickly learned that resigning from a job without having another one isn't a great move, especially when you're pregnant and don't know it. I had money saved, but like I said I had a baby to prepare for. The money needed for her well-being I wasn't expecting, nor accounted for, and Gabe was dead.”

“But there were other things you could have done besides bounty hunting.”

“Of course there were. I could have been a college professor, switched to magazine journalism, public relations, something prettier.” I looked around the deck. It seemed like everyone was hanging onto our every word, so I lowered my voice. “I wanted something different. I wanted to sink myself into something that would allow me to live on my own terms while doing it. I didn't want a babysitter. I wanted independence.”

“Which is ironic since you send people back to jail,” Justus reminded me.

“Let me just preface this by saying I'm not a fan of our criminal justice system. We bond criminals out, then pay me to put them back in. It's an oxymoron.”

He nodded. “Appears that way.”

“But you know what I've learned? Everything was one big oxymoron. Take my job at
The Sentinel,
for instance. As long as I didn't investigate and uncover dirty things about them or their key advertiser, they lauded me. But when I did my job—even if that meant turning the tables on them—I had to resign.”

“They made you leave?” he asked.

“No, I left on my own. My conscience wouldn't let me stay there.” I smiled, yet felt sad. “I once loved my job. I once thought I was my job, like you think you are.”

“It's not the same.” He shook his head.

“Yes, it is. You're a minister 24-7. Every decision you make is based on your duty to the church. I did the same thing. Truth and sharing that truth ran through my veins, just like you.”

“I see your point, but what happened? What happened that made you change your mind about who you are?”

“They wanted me to turn over my investigation of Big Faith.” I sipped some chocolate.

Big Faith was my nickname for Ava's church, Greater Atlanta Faith. Justus didn't care for the nickname, because he thought I was being judgmental of mega churches. Before Devon died I was, but now I championed the church. If I wasn't a member of Sugar Hill, I would have returned to the fold.

“During that time I had contracted Gabe to decode cooked books from a CPA's office that worked for a lot of mega churches. He was very good at that sort of thing. Anyway, Big Faith was one of the churches we were looking into. However, we couldn't find anything on that church.”

Elvis Bloom, Devon's murderer, had later confessed that he was siphoning money out of Big Faith's foundation fund. I'm sure Gabe would have found him out, if he wasn't murdered shortly after I killed the story.

“
The Sentinel
thought I was protecting Ava and I was. She and Devon weren't stealing from their church and we couldn't prove who was at the time. Gabe died shortly after that. I felt suspicious about the whole thing and blamed
The Sentinel
. They tried to make me believe that Gabe was a part of some crime ring and deserved what he got. I quit. I needed to clear his name.”

Justus picked at his pie. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I've been poking around things for a few years.”

“Is that what this trouble between you and Tiger and this Riddick guy is about?”

“No. That's about being stabbed in the back by your friend.” I sighed.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he asked.

“I don't want you blaming me for what's been going on. Believe me, I blame myself. I can't prove it yet, but I know in my gut that Gabe died protecting me from something bigger than
The Sentinel
and Greater Atlanta. I don't know where to start.”

“Can this private investigators class help you with that?”

“I hope so.” I nodded. “I'm in the human recovery business. Up until now I've only solved crimes when it affects the people I love.”

“Is that why you wouldn't help me last year with my niece? You didn't love me then?”

I grabbed my napkin and placed it over my mouth, then laughed. “Please don't make me spit anything else on you.”

“Fair enough. I was expecting you to change the subject anyway.”

I blushed. “So what's next?”

“After you admit your feelings for me, then marriage.”

I giggled. “No, I mean tonight.”

He grinned. His eyes creased in a sultry way that made me swoon. “Breakfast. Or have you forgotten already?”

“No, but I was hoping we'd snuggle together and do some plane spotting for a few.”

“Angel, you know we can't do that now.” He placed the mugs and linen back into the picnic basket.

“Why not?”

“I can't put you in a position where we both could easily compromise our faith.”

My mouth dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

“I'm afraid not.” He slid the blanket off my legs.

I shook my head. “You're such a tease.”

He stopped. “Beg pardon?”

I hopped off the bed of the truck and landed on something wet. My feet slipped from underneath before I could catch my footing. Justus caught me. He lifted me up in his arms. I gasped. His lips were so close to mine.

“I won't make Gabe's mistake.” He panted. His voice was deeper.

I gulped again. “And what was that? To save me?”

He moved closer. I could smell the apple pie from his breath. “Break your heart.”

“Can I kiss you now?” My voice was embarrassingly close to a whimper.

Justus smiled, but didn't answer. He carried me to the front passenger door and opened the door with a free hand, which proved to me that he was stronger than I once thought. He lowered me into the truck, fastened my seat belt, then kissed me on my forehead.

I grabbed his face. “One real kiss, please.”

“Do you love me or are you still in love with Bella's father?” he asked.

“News flash, Justus. Gabe's dead.”

He placed his hand on my heart. “He's not dead in here and I understand that. If you're still mourning him, I need to respect that.”

“But—”

He closed my door. The drive back to Sugar Hill was bittersweet and loud silence. When he dropped me off, he didn't allow me to linger in his truck. He let me go and I said nothing to stop him. I walked into the kitchen carrying my Holeman & Finch pie container and bag filled with more treats for the house. I popped my box, hoping there was a crumb of pie left, and then I heard a knock on my kitchen windowpane. I didn't jump. I leaped from my stool, unlocked the door, and kissed Justus so hard we both slid onto the floor.

 

T
wo days after my forced vacation I received a visitor who wasn't Justus or Tiger, or on the agenda my assistant Cathy Blair had made for me. I had just hopped into the shower when I heard three short knocks on the door.

“Who is it?” I leaned out my office shower to see who it could be.

Although I had converted my downstairs guestroom into an office, I spent most of my time in my backyard office. It was a guest cottage nestled in my genealogical garden between Granny's rose garden and the tiny orange tree my Aunt Doe grew for me as a housewarming gift.

From the outside it looked enchanting. However, that was a facade. I used my home office to meet with my non–bail bond clients. It was safe looking. The cottage, not so much. I housed my weapons here. I didn't want Bella to smell them or know that such things existed. Kids smelled Crazy Dangerous faster than adults.

Although the person at the door couldn't see me, I saw them.

“Elaine?” I squinted. “Elaine Turner?!”

“In the flesh,” she shouted back, then chuckled. “Put some clothes on and let me in.”

I hopped out the shower, gathered myself in my robe, and ran to greet her. I unlocked the door with wet hands, then wiped them on the robe after I realized it.

The Honorable Elaine Turner grabbed my hands and held onto them tightly. I was surprised and ecstatic to see her. It had been six years.

“Evangeline Crawford, look at you.” Lana had the same bright blue eyes as her mother. This woman had blazed a trail through Georgia State Court with that stare. “You haven't changed.”

“Then you know that I so need you right now.” I pulled her into my arms.

We hugged and then I noticed she had not come alone. Her team included her deputy press secretary, another staffer, and a few others, who were more than likely private security detail.

Representatives in Georgia carried their own weapons if they felt threatened, because they didn't want the public to think they were squandering state money on bodyguards. Elaine hated guns. Therefore, she paid out of her own pocket for an executive protective agent to aide her during public events and to ford through her daily death threats.

Last to follow her inside my cottage was her campaign manager, Sean Graham. I paused when he entered and turned to Elaine. Sean was a bull in bear's clothing. If he was in your corner, you were protected. Imagine the opposite of that. One thing I remembered well: If Sean was around, something was about to go down. I respected Sean, but I didn't like him. I especially didn't like his relationship with Riddick Avery.

Elaine and I hugged while the rest of her staff stepped inside.

“Congratulations on the wedding,” I whispered.

“Thank you. Lana is elated.”

Elaine made her way to my knives display case and observed it. Her eyes were intense. Yet, I couldn't tell if she admired my collection or wondered if I had really fallen off the deep end after I left the
Atlanta Sentinel
.

I stood beside her. “You like?”

“More like I'm perplexed. I wish I wasn't so soft that I couldn't admire the beauty of their craftsmanship. It's the older Southern belle in me I guess.” She smiled. “Can't see past the ugliness of violence that these weapons are created for.”

“It's not a display case for exhibition, Elaine.”

“I know . . .” Her voice trailed off. By the way her mouth was still parted I could tell she had more to say, but only to herself.

She exhaled, then turned toward me. “Please tell me that you haven't taught Bella how to use a machete?”

I chuckled. “Like you, I work hard to make sure my daughter's feet don't trip into danger, including my office and the things that I do in the dark.”

She looked at her private security agents. Both were white men who looked like they could moonlight as gladiators if they weren't wearing tailored Brooks Brothers' suits. They were too perfectly all-American for my taste. However, for Ava . . . Any one of these guys could get her out of wearing widow black in a heartbeat.

“You're a good mother, Angel,” Elaine said.

“Thanks, but I know you didn't come here to tell me I'm a good mom. You came to ask me for a favor.”

She leaned forward. “Is that what your clients call it? A favor?”

I turned my attention to Sean. He didn't say a word, but his eyes told enough. I hoped Elaine would be more forthcoming.

I looked at her and grinned. “It depends on what that favor is.”

I glanced at Sean then rolled my eyes at him. Although he was Elaine's right hand, I wished she would cut him off. He held too many secrets. In the five short years I've been a bail recovery agent for Tiger, Sean's name has come up often as an indemnitor.

Indemnitors, or guarantors, were the people who vouched for the bail. They were our clients. If someone jumped bail, the indemnitor would be responsible for the cost of losing that bail to the courts. The fact that Sean's name kept showing up on papers concerned me. Why did he know so many hard-luck people? Why were so many of them skips? And better yet, why was he a friend of Riddick?

I thought about paying Salvador Tinsley a visit to ask him about Sean Graham and my upcoming PI certification class. The Dekalb County detective was with me the day Gabe died, and then almost a year ago, after much reluctance/harassment/ warning to put me in jail, he helped me find my brother-in-law Devon's killer. I'm sure he missed me by now. I chuckled to myself. He would be pleased to know I'm on vacation, but salty about the PI class. If I passed this course, that meant I would see more of him. He would be thrilled.

“Lana told me that you'll be attending the wedding and bringing the young man I read about in the papers.”

“I hope so,” I said.

She clapped softly. Her face beamed with maternal pride. If Lana wasn't her spitting image before, she surely was now.

I squeezed her hand with delight. “I can't believe Lana's old enough to marry!”

“Well, she thinks she is, and to an Atlanta Falcon at that.” Elaine beamed with pride. She was a huge fan of the local NFL franchise. “My girls are women now. Who knows? I may be hearing wedding bells for you in the near future.”

My stomach grumbled. I rubbed it and grimaced. “Please don't upset me like that.”

“I saw you blush when I mentioned him before. There are more than butterflies fluttering in your heart for him.”

I chuckled. “I never kiss and tell.”

“You are discreet. I give you that. Speaking of discretion . . .” Elaine cleared her throat. “This is where the favor comes in.”

I sat down at my desk. “Okay. Now I'm ready for the ball to drop.”

“It's not that serious.” She took a seat in the quilted white leather armchair in front of my desk.

“Well, I don't buy that.” I smiled.

“Honey, it's true. What I ask of you isn't serious. It's embarrassing, really.” She pushed a strand of blond hair from her face to behind her ear, then crossed her legs. “You know my position comes with notoriety. And because of the way the world works nowadays, the media will soon get wind of Lana's wedding, especially since she's marrying a professional athlete.”

“I see. You need me to monitor the buzz.”

“No, I have Terri, my press secretary, for that.” She waved over to the petite redhead with the crisp navy blue suit. Terri waved jazz fingers back.

I nodded at her. “Terri, you're welcome to sit down in the love seat over there.”

She nodded, but didn't move. I observed the rest of the lot before I returned my attention to Elaine. My furniture was new, so I didn't know why they wouldn't sit down. I glanced at Sean. His face was buried in his smartphone. Something smelled fishy, but there was no food.

I leaned toward Elaine and whispered, “Why is everyone standing? Is something wrong?”

She sat back and shook her head. “Oh no. They're just doing their jobs. They don't want to get too comfortable. Must stay on their toes.”

“I have a workroom in the back. It has tables, chairs, and Wi-Fi. It connects at least six more devices. Maybe your staff would like to work while we chat.” I pointed down the hall. “Just don't touch the peach cobbler moonshine. A client pays me with that. . . .”

Elaine crossed her other leg, then made a dry cough. I remembered that cough. It was a sign of disapproval, a tic she tried to hide, but the media had discovered it and had a field day since.

I patted her leg. “My apologies. As you can see, I have all kinds of clients, Elaine, including the ones you don't approve of.”

“Of that, I'm sure. And that's exactly why I need you. I need someone who doesn't look like security to keep Lana safe, especially in unsecured public places.”

“Like where, exactly?”

“Filene's Basement. You know? The Running of the Brides. It's the last Saturday of this month. Lana and her bridal team are attending. Unfortunately, I can't be there. I have a town hall meeting that day. There are rumors that the governor may hold a special election to fill a state senate seat. I need to talk to my constituents about the implications of this election and to introduce my pick for that slot. The event is too important to postpone.”

My back tightened at the words “Filene's Basement.” The last time I was there, Gabe had died. Elaine knew this. Why would she put me in this position?

I sat back. “Come on, Elaine. Three weeks' notice?”

“Hear me out. It's not that I put my work before my family. Sometimes the state needs us more.” She watched me intently, then changed her gaze toward the framed
Atlanta Sentinel
photo and article about my saving Ava last year. “I know you understand that, and I know that Lana has asked you to join them at Filene's. You said ‘no.' I'm asking you to reconsider.”

I looked away.

Elaine had been my mentor since undergrad. If it wasn't for her, I never would have gotten my job at the
Atlanta Sentinel
. She introduced me to Gabe. After he died and I quit
The Sentinel,
she invested in my recovery agency when no one understood why I wanted to do this work so badly. She had never refused me. Never. But I wanted to refuse this. I was indeed in a pickle.

“Elaine, your request may be too hard for me. I'm still not over losing him.”

She patted my hand. “Oh darling. I know that the location holds bad memories for you, but you can't hide in this house forever and you can't keep finding detours around Filene's or Phipps Plaza. At some point you have to let him go. You've already begun with Justus.”

“Don't do that.” I slid my hand away from her. “It's not the same, regardless of whomever I'm with. Gabe will always be in my heart.”

“Exactly. Don't forget I'm a widow. I see bits and pieces of Chris in Lana every day.”

“Yes, I see Gabe in Bella, too.”

“We have that great gift of actualizing these great men whenever we need to. That is why you can move on. You can let go of the possibilities you were going to have with him, because you're living the reality of having him always in sweet Bella. Understand?”

There was something about her words that stuck in my chest. I cried.

Elaine stood up and so did I. She outstretched her arms, then wrapped herself around me with the biggest, most sincere hug. I melted until I heard feet shuffling nearby. I looked at our captive audience, to find Sean and Terri peeking through the door. I released Elaine and then wiped my eyes with some hand tissues that sat in a pink eggshell porcelain box on my desk.

“Let me think about it. I'll let you know by the end of the week. Okay?”

Elaine smiled. “That's all I'm asking. Lana would be so pleased.”

I eyed Sean. I wanted to speak with him, too. He must have read my mind, because my phone buzzed. I reached for it and read it:
STOP BY MY OFFICE NEXT WEDNESDAY REGARDING RIDDICK.
I nodded and hoped I hadn't just shaken hands with the devil.