Wedding Bell Blues (24 page)

"Mom, we can't stay. Colton has to get to the store to get
fitted or
they won't have time to make any alterations he might need." I gave her
a quick kiss on the cheek and took another step toward the door. We
were so close now. If we just moved quickly, before she could think of
a comeback….

"All right. But we'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Right. Tell Daddy and Maryanne we said bye."

With that, I grabbed Colton's hand - amazing how natural it
felt to
do that - and led him out the door. As we neared the car, I could
almost feel him relax and chuckle softly. So, the big, brave cop was as
afraid of my mother and her machinations as I was. Good. It's always
better to share your paranoia with someone instead of suffering by
yourself.

I was almost singing with relief as the engine started and
Colton
carefully pulled away from the curb. A quick glance across at him
showed his relief and something else, something that had me frowning.
Now that we were away from my parents, he'd dropped the mask he'd been
wearing and his exhaustion and, much to my surprise, frustration were
clear. That wasn't good. Fear tickled at the back of my throat even as
my mouth went dry. Had something else happened?

Much as I wanted to ask, I didn't. The last thing he needed
just
then was me badgering him with questions. For starters, if he wasn't
ready to talk - and the fact he was driving in silence was a pretty
damned good indication that he wasn't - me demanding answers would do
no good. From past experience, I knew it would lead to either an
argument I really didn't want to have or a stony silence nothing could
break. So, frustrating as it was, I'd hold my tongue for a while and
give him some time to decompress.

I owed him that much at least.

"Colton," I began when I couldn't take the silence any longer.
At
least his expression wasn't so grim or his eyes so tired when he
glanced across at me. "Are you all right?"

The car came to a stop at a red light and he glanced at me
again, a
slight smile touching his lips. Then, to my surprise, he reached over
and gave my hand a quick squeeze before lifting it to his lips. A
tingle of excitement ran through me, reminding me that he had once more
gotten under my skin and I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever get
enough of him.

"Sorry, Jess. It's just been a long and
frustrating day. I'll tell you all about it after this fitting." He
carefully placed my hand back in my lap as the light turned green.
"Between that and this fitting tonight, I'm a little out of sorts."

"The fitting?" Mischief sparked and I didn't try to hold it
back. He
needed to laugh, to relax, and I was determined to make him, whether he
liked it or not. "Now why in the world would you be scared of being
fitted for a tux?"

"Oh, let's see, less than a week ago, I hadn't said more than
a
dozen words to you in the last ten years. Then, all of a sudden, you're
back in my life, personally and professionally. If that isn't confusing
enough, I'm suddenly a member of your sister's wedding party. I know
your mother, Jessie, and she scares the hell out of me. She did ten
years ago and she does now. And you can't tell me that she doesn't
scare you, not when you were doing all you could to drag me out of
there tonight."

"Hey, I never said I wasn't scared of her. But that doesn't
explain why you are."

"Bitch." He grinned and once more reached for my hand. "I'm
scared
for the same reason you are. Faith is going to do her best to see the
two of us married, whether we want it or not. While that might not be
as frightening to you as it is to me, let me remind you that she
already has wedding bells in her eyes."

"Colton, she's learned to be a bit more subtle since we were
together." At least I hoped she had. "But, at least until Sunday, she
will be more worried about what's going on with Maryanne and her
wedding than with anything the two of us might be doing."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. More
importantly, the
frustration I'd seen earlier had eased. He still looked tired, but I
understood. He'd put in some very long days since Saturday, not to
mention all the emotional upheaval we'd both been through since then.
It had to be taking its toll.

"Hopefully, this won't take too long," he said as we walked
into the
store where he was to have his tux fitted. "Find yourself a seat and
let me know what you think."

For a moment, I swear that's all, I debated. He wanted me to
stay at
the shop so he would know where I was. It was his way of keeping me
safe. But we were at the mall, and the mall had a bookstore. A really
nice bookstore. And there was this new novel I wanted. It would be so
easy to slip out while he was being fitted, get the book and hurry
back. I bet I could do it before he figured out I was gone.

Then
I remembered the exhaustion I'd seen in his face. No, I couldn't do
that to him. He was doing everything he could to keep anything else
from happening to me. Besides, as good as he looked in regular clothes,
he'd be a dream in a tux. No way did I want to miss that.

"Sure. Maybe we could run by the bookstore on our way out?"

"If you want to," he replied as one of the assistants
approached.

The fitting didn't take long and, as I'd expected, it had been
fun.
For me at least. I got to sit there and watch as the tux was pinned and
chalked, not that much was needed. And I'd also been right about how
Colton would look in it. He looked damned good, good enough to eat. But
that would have to wait until we got home and dealt with other, less
entertaining, matters.

An hour and a half later, we were back at Colton's apartment,
burgers and fries in their greasy brown paper bags from Al's Hamburgers
in hand. It hadn't taken us long, no more than fifteen seconds, to
decide neither of us wanted to cook tonight. Since we both love the
burgers at Al's, it had been a no-brainer to divert there for take-out.

It seemed so normal for us to putter around his small kitchen,
getting down plates, pulling out condiments and the like as we prepared
for dinner. Colton didn't protest when I laid everything out on the
kitchen table any more than I protested when he produced a couple of
bottles of beer from the refrigerator. We'd done this before we broke
up, but never with this sort of silent camaraderie. At least I don't
remember it. Maybe if it had been there, things would have been
different.

Oh well, it was best not to dwell on what might have been.
Those
days were over, and it was up to us to figure out where we were going
from here. But even that had to wait until this current mess was dealt
with.

"Colton," I began as we cleared away the remnants of the meal.
He
leaned against the counter and sighed, knowing what I wanted to ask and
didn't.

"Jess, let's finish this up and then I promise to tell you
everything I can."

I wanted to argue, but couldn't. He wasn't asking for much,
just a
few more minutes. But when did he become such a neat freak? It wasn't
just wanting to clean the kitchen. I'd noticed it before. There was
none of the typical bachelor clutter you expect when walking into most
single men's apartments. Oh, there was the book he was reading lying
face down on the sofa, pillows that weren't perfectly plumped. There
was even the hand towel in the bathroom that hung slightly askew on the
rod. My place should look so good most days.

But gone were the clothes left wherever he dropped them when
he took
them off. Dishes were rinsed and put in the sink, if not the
dishwasher, after use instead of being left where they were. This was a
very different Colton from the one I'd lived with, the one who had
driven me crazy by refusing to pick up after himself.

Maybe that was all part of the new and improved Colton, the
grown up
one. Did he ask himself the same questions about me? What a frightening
question, especially if he didn't like the answers he was getting.

"Have a seat, Jess," he said as we made our way into the den.

I
settled on the sofa, curling up against the far arm. When he sat
opposite me, I frowned, suddenly worried I wasn't going to like what he
had to say. This grim Colton was as new to me as the neat Colton.

"First off, don't look so worried. I'm just tired and
frustrated
because nothing seems to be breaking on the case just yet." He leaned
forward in the chair, elbows on his knees. Then, to my surprise, he
pushed out of the chair and joined me on the sofa, sitting at an angle
so our knees touched. "Unfortunately, an investigation doesn't work the
same way in real life that it does on TV. It takes time, sometimes too
much time, to get results back from the lab. That's what I'm looking at
right now. I might get lucky and have the DNA results back in a couple
of weeks. But that's only if I get really lucky. It will more likely be
a month or more, as backed up as the lab is right now.
"That means I have to rely on old-fashioned police work to solve
Manny's murder. Not that I'm adverse to it, because I'm not. But it
does mean that I need a break. A snitch who is willing to give me the
information, a witness who suddenly comes forward and proves reliable,
something. Even then, with the current climate in the courts and media,
I'll need some solid forensic evidence to back up the eyewitness
testimony before the DA will take the case to court."

"And I haven't been a lot of help to you. I'm sorry."

I was. God knows, I'd suffered enough guilt pangs because I
couldn't
give Colton the information he needed to arrest Manny's killer.
Unfortunately, I simply didn't have anything else to give him. I'd
wracked my brain for something, anything that would help identify the
killer. But nothing was there. Or at least if it was, it was buried so
deep, I couldn't remember.

"No, Jess. Don't do that." He reached out and pulled me close.
"Don't blame yourself. I don't and I know Manny's family doesn't. In
fact, they've called several times, not only to check on the progress
of the investigation but also to make sure we are doing everything we
can to protect you."

"They're good people." Tears burned in my eyes and I blinked
hard against them.

"They
are," he agreed. "And that will help. People want to do what they can
to find the bastards who killed Manny. Because of that, someone will
remember something and tell us. Until that happens, or until I get the
lab results back and we find something there to help us make an
identification, all I can do is wait."

"Which you hate."

"Yeah, I do." He gave my shoulders a quick
squeeze and then pushed off the sofa so he could pace the room. "I wish
I could tell you more."

"Take your own advice, Colton. Don't apologize or feel guilty.
I
know you're working hard on the case." I paused to give him a moment to
accept what I said. "Can you tell me anything about the investigation
into the fire at my house? Or the shooting yesterday?"

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Whether it was because he
was
worried about how I'd take the news, or because he felt he might be
breaking some sort of cop code by talking about the fire, I don't know.
So I waited as he struggled to make up his mind, praying he wasn't
going to make this difficult.

"Let me start by saying that Davalos is one of the most
territorial,
hard headed, iron-plated bitches I've ever had the misfortune to meet
or work with. But she is also a top-notch arson investigator. What she
doesn't know about dealing with people, she knows in spades when it
comes to fire. That's the only reason she's still on the force.

"But it makes working with her a bitch, especially when it
comes to
getting information from her. However, she finally loosened up enough
to say she doesn't think you had anything to do with the fire. Not that
you'll ever get an apology from her." He paused and looked at me. I
shrugged. What else could I do? I was just glad she no longer harbored
any illusions that I had anything to do with the fire.

"What does she think happened? Can you tell me that much?"

"Like I said, Davalos isn't in this because of her people
skills.
That means I don't have much. But, from what I can tell, she is looking
for suspects now that she's crossed you off her list." He tried to be
calm about it but I heard the frustration in his voice and it touched
me. "As we've discussed before, it looks like some sort of incendiary
device was thrown through your front window, probably nothing more
sophisticated than a fire bomb.

"If you'd been home, or if one
of your neighbors had realized what happened and called 911 right away,
there'd probably have been very little damage. As is, the fire spread
and ignited the gas lines for your hot water heater and furnace. Once
that happened, there was very little that could be done to save the
place.

"Because of the method used, Davalos doesn't suspect a pro was
involved."

"A pro? She actually thought, even for a moment, a
professional arsonist might have done this?" The woman had to be insane.

"It's
something she had to look at, Jessie. I'd have done the same thing in
her place." He held up a hand to keep me from interrupting. "But,
because of the method used, she's confident in ruling out a
professional job. That means it could very well be someone you know,
that we've been so focused on what happened at Manny's that we've
overlooked the obvious here."

"The obvious?" What the hell was he talking about? The only
obvious thing about the fire was that my house was destroyed.

"Yes, the obvious," he repeated before rejoining me on the
sofa.
"Jess, I know Davalos asked if you had had any problems with students,
or anyone else for that matter. But that's only one possible
explanation. Your house could have been targeted as part of a gang
initiation simply because you are a teacher. Hell, sweetheart, you've
got the reputation of doing all you can to keep your students out of
the gangs. That doesn't exactly make you their best friend.