Through Fire (Portland, ME #3) (9 page)

My body shakes uncontrollably and I’m gasping for air. I can’t breathe.

T
im

I’m still glaring at Mark when I feel her body go limp. I can barely grab her as she slides off the edge of the couch, managing to pull her up and swing her legs on the seat. Then Dino bursts into the office, with Ike and Viv right behind him.

“Outta my fucking way!” Dino bellows, as he shoves me hard on the shoulder, dropping on his knees beside Ruby.

I feel angry and useless and force my attention on Mark. “That’s how you guys treat potential witnesses? No fucking wonder she was terrified, you asshole. No wonder she’s on the run, if this is the kind of treatment waiting for her. Fuck you, man! Fuck you!” I realize I’m out of control, and about to lay my brother out, when Ike grabs me from behind and Viv gets in my face.

“Honey. Calm yourself. You’re not helping the situation.”

Normally it would’ve been Viv’s smoky voice that would’ve settled me, but not this time. This time it’s Dino’s low, deep, threatening rumble. “You lot, get the fuck out of here. Take them to the kitchen, Ike. Fucking knock some sense into either or both.” When I turn around, I see the big man sitting on the couch with Ruby’s body curled up in his lap, her hands clutched in his shirt. The sight hits me in the gut.

“Let’s go,” Ike says, keeping his arm around my shoulder as he guides me out of the room.

-

“T
im.”

I ignore my brother’s voice, focusing instead on my clenched fists on the kitchen table. Anger still courses freshly through my blood, a million questions through my mind. And to top it all, sitting heavy in my chest, is jealousy: irrational, unexpected jealousy.

I take a few deep breaths to calm down when Viv slides a coffee on the table in front of me, after checking on the pub. Matt’s closing shop, brushing off the last remaining patrons.

“Thanks,” I automatically reply, and her hand gives my shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Was that necessary?” I ask a guilty-looking Mark, when I finally trust myself to speak. His eyes meet mine over the table and I can see regret in his eyes.

“No,” he admits quietly. “It wasn’t.”

“Look,” Ike pipes up. “Why don’t you tell us what that was all about?”

“It’s this damn case,” Mark says, his hands running restlessly through his hair. “This young girl, a witness. She was found dead this afternoon. She was sexually assaulted just days before. She wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t testify, and within hours, the FBI walked in and took custody of her.”

“You told me that,” I remind him. “It doesn’t explain why you went off on Ruby.”

“Seven months ago, Carlos Delgado was shot execution style in a warehouse, just outside Boston. Delgado was a big man in the Boston sex trade. Owner of three clubs, and by all accounts, controlled most of the street action in Boston. A witness to his murder was captured on video and later picked up. She was questioned by local police and released after seventy-two hours, when they had nothing to hold her on. She disappeared from sight and her picture has been circulating police departments up and down the coast for months. It’s a picture of Ruby”

A sharp intake of breath from Viv draws my attention. Her face is ashen and her hands are covering her mouth.

“What?” Ike wants to know, tilting his wife’s face with his hands.

“She told us,” she mumbles behind her hands. “She said she’d witnessed a violent incident and ran.”

“What else did she say?” Mark jumps on it, but Viv shakes her head.

“Try asking her,” she bites off, challenging him.

Mark is the first one to break their stare down and looks up at me with a mix of regret and frustration on his face.

“What does Ruby have to do with that sexual assault victim?” I ask him, my eyes never leaving his.

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know, but I know the FBI had the girl listed as a potential informant in the Delgado case.”

“And she’s dead,” I point out unnecessarily, reeling with the information and trying to sort out what it all means.

“Dead?” Ruby’s soft voice sounds from the doorway, where she stands with Dino’s large frame behind her. His hands resting on her shoulders.

Mark pushes up from his chair, just as I get up from mine. But by the time I move around the table, Mark has beaten me to her. With eyes as big as saucers, she looks from one to the other. Ignoring my brother, I step around him, grab Ruby’s hand and gently pull her away from Dino. I don’t miss the way the corner of his mouth twitches. Asshole. I also don’t miss the way she takes a wide berth around Mark, her body instinctively pressing against mine. Not going to complain about that.

“Come sit,” I coax her to the chair next to the one I was sitting in and leave my arm to rest on the back of it.

Mark sits down again across from us. “I’m sorry I went off on you earlier.”

“Who’s dead?” Ruby’s voice is soft, but filled with determination, as she chooses to ignore Mark’s apology.

“A young girl. Victim of sexual assault.” This time he is much more careful with his words, and his tone, as he briefly explains. Still Ruby winces at the words, but before she can react, Mark continues. “Why did you run?”

Her derisive snort sounds harsh in the kitchen as everyone quietly listens. “No offense, but the ones I’ve come in contact with over the years have hardly been upstanding citizens. There was no help to be found there,” she states matter-of-factly, before shrugging her shoulders. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“Why do you say that?” Mark wants to know.

“Because you’ll take me in. Hand me over to the Boston PD, and that’ll be the end of that,” she says with unexpected heat, as she leans forward on the table.

“Hold on,” I direct her. “No one is taking you anywhere.” The last I accompany with an unmistakable glare at my brother.

“He’s right,” he directs at Ruby, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m hardly on good terms myself. I’d still like to know what happened.”

After a heavy silence, and a long look around the kitchen at every person present, Ruby seems to come to a decision when her eyes land and stay on Mark. “Tell me something?” she asks. “In those reports you’ve seen, was there any mention of arrests being made? Any mention of the men I identified and named? I did, you know?” she states, as disbelief is evident on Mark’s face. “I knew three of them. I named them. Several times. When the detective who was interviewing me shrugged it off, not once, but a number of times, I realized I was on my own.” She looks down at the hands clasped in her lap. “When they let me go after three days in their holding cell, one of those three men was waiting across the street from the police station. And then I knew—I couldn’t trust anyone. Especially not the police.”

In the silence that follows, the list of questions in my head grows. What was she doing there with Delgado? Why? Those seem to be the ones that dominate the many others. I’m surprised by the lack of tears. The woman sits there dry-eyed, her face almost devoid of color, her back ramrod straight; the only outward sign of distress, the shaking of the hands in her lap. But I can see the hopelessness underneath the unemotional exterior; smell the fear thick in the air.

“Someone tipped them off,” Mark bites off.

“It would seem so,” Ruby answers with deceptive calm.

R
uby

Last time I checked my alarm, it was three in the morning. This time it shows only half an hour has passed since.

I rolled into bed a few hours ago, exhausted, but the moment my head hit the pillow my brain went into overdrive.

I’d opened up all right. All over the table, in a kitchen full to capacity. If ever I could trust anyone, it would be the people gathered at that time. With the exception of Tim’s brother—for obvious reasons.

Tim’s arm had stayed around my back the entire time. At some point, he even covered my hands with one of his own. Discussions were flying around, everyone weighing in with their ideas, their opinions. I just shut down. Resigned to have my future, or lack thereof, in the hands of these people. In the hands of one cop.

It surprised me when Mark was the one who suggested someone take me home. I faintly registered the ensuing tug of war over whether I should go with Viv and Ike, have Dino drop me off at the shelter, or even go with Tim to his place. Finally I announced I’d be going home—to
my
place. I didn’t have the energy to fight Tim when he announced he’d stay with me. I have to hand it to him though, he never asked a single question. Despite the fact I could see each and every one of them playing out on his face.

Not a single one. All he said was, “Get some rest,” before grabbing the throw from the back of the couch and stretching out, a small red pillow tucked behind his head. That was hours ago. A soft snore from the direction of the living room was proof at least one of us was getting some shuteye.

Grudgingly I get out of bed, the urge to pee becoming impossible to ignore. After taking care of business, I dry my hands on the towel and walk into the bedroom where the sight of Tim sitting on the edge of my bed stops me in my tracks. My first reaction is to look down at my state of dress, which is minimal at best. Nothing but a large men’s t-shirt, bought for three dollars at a thrift store and serving as nightshirt, and a pair of white cotton undies. At least my torso and ass are covered, but the dimples covering my substantial thighs are not.
Wonderful
.

“Can’t sleep?” Tim’s voice, raspy with sleep, drags me from the intense study of my cellulite.

“No,” I respond, tugging uselessly at the hem of my shirt. “What are you doing here?” They say the best defense is offense, and I’m putting it to the test. Unfortunately, Tim doesn’t seem impressed.

“You’ve got to get some sleep, Ruby,” he says, completely ignoring my question as he gets up and takes a few steps toward me. I try hard to ignore the way his undershirt stretches across the expanse of his chest. He must’ve taken off his sweater last night. Socks and boots too, from the look of the nice-looking bare feet, sticking out of the legs of his jeans.
Gracias a Dios,
he’s still wearing jeans.

Putting his arm around my shoulder, he guides me to the bed and urges me to lie down. He pulls the covers over me, and to my surprise, lies down next to me on top of the bedding. I’m not sure what to make of it. Under any other circumstances, having a man crawl in bed with me would have crystal clear implications. But this is Tim, and I’ve already made the mistake once of trying to anticipate his expectations. I won’t be doing that again.

“Would it help to talk about it?” he asks tentatively.

“About what exactly?” The sarcastic tone I can’t hold back doesn’t escape Tim’s notice. From his position, with his arms folded behind his head, he turns only his eyes to me.

“How about we start with what is keeping you up?”

“Nothing. Everything.” I roll on my side so I face him. “I keep waiting for a knock on the door, announcing the police are here to take me away.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he says, settling on his side, facing me with one hand tucked under his pillow.

“But your brother...” I start before he cuts me off.

“Was suspended from active duty today,” he fills me in.

“Oh.”

We lie there, quietly looking at each other. It feels weirdly intimate, despite the fact our bodies aren’t touching anywhere. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed from sleep, making the blue stand out even brighter. Lines fan out from the corners, witness to years of laughter. In contrast, the furrow between his heavy eyebrows shows those years were not all worry-free. Deep crescent-shaped grooves curve around his strong mouth, and his square chin sports a greying, dark russet scruff.

“Sleep,” he mutters, his voice almost willing my eyelids to close.

T
im

The silent vibration of my cell, in the pocket of my jeans, wakes me up.

I’m still in the same position I was in when I finally fell asleep, which was well after Ruby’s eyes closed and her breathing slowed down.

I can’t remember ever experiencing anything like those minutes we spent studying each other’s face. There’d been nothing furtive about it. It felt like we were trying to
learn
each other. Touching without hands or mouths, and yet feeling oddly connected.