40 Souls to Keep, page 11
Jase had winced at the question. Massaging his forehead, he nodded. “Yes. The drive-through’s fine.”
“Peachy.”
Lucas guided the Jetta through the complex pattern of traffic lights and cloverleafs that marked the edge of Old Naples and turned north on the Trail. The lack of traffic made him twitchy. He’d expected empty streets in the old part of the city. It was nothing more than a glorified shopping mall—totally dead after the restaurants closed at 11 p.m. But they were back where the real people lived now, the beach three blocks away. Yet there were only a few cars moving in either direction.
Naples wasn’t Miami. In fact, it pretty much prided itself on being the polar opposite. Less glitz, more golf. Fewer movie theaters, more bookstores. The sorts of quiet, pretentious pursuits that sent people to bed early, apparently. Ten years on the Gold Coast and Lucas could count on one hand the number of times he’d been on the road after midnight.
He drove slowly, not eager to reach Seventh Avenue North. Through it all, Jase remained silent, and Lucas left him to it. He was having enough trouble keeping himself balanced and functioning. No need to open a line of dialog that might turn uncomfortable.
Lucas ran the left-turn red light and bounced into the parking lot of the Burger King. “Okay. What do I do?” Intent on the pimply-faced kid staring at him from the order window, he yelped when Jase touched his arm.
“Easy,” Jase said. He pointed. “Just go order what you want.”
Lucas grimaced. He couldn’t have eaten right then if his life depended on it. Luckily, Macy piped up from the backseat. “Chicken tenders meal, please. With a girl toy.”
Jase lifted his hand toward the window, urging Lucas on.
“Do you know how much fat are in those meals?” Lucas grumbled, reaching for his wallet. He flipped it open, turning it toward the dashboard lights to see inside. Did he have enough for a kid’s meal and a shake? Because his chocolate craving had reached critical mass. It might even trump Macy’s desire for mystery-meat nuggets.
“Don’t worry about that,” Jase said, touching him again. He folded Lucas’s wallet and closed his fingers around it. “Just trust me.”
“With lots of ketchup,” Macy added.
Trust me, with lots of ketchup. “Sure, okay,” Lucas said, gaze on how Jase’s thumb was stroking over his knuckles. “Stop that,” he said thickly.
Jase removed his hand without comment, and Lucas pulled up to the window, wooden smile pasted in place. He clutched his shaking hands to the wheel. “How’re you doing tonight?” he asked the kid.
“Good,” the kid said after a moment. Judging by the slack-jawed expression, he didn’t get that question much. “Thought you were going to sit there all night.”
“Nah. Just working out our order. I’ll take a kid’s chicken meal and a large chocolate shake.”
“Drink with the meal?”
Lucas blinked, lost, until Macy piped up, “Sprite!”
“Sauce with the chicken?”
“Ketchup,” she called.
“Do you want a girl toy or a boy toy, man?”
“For a girl,” Jase said, finally speaking. “Thanks for being so efficient.”
The kid beamed. “No problem.”
Leaning forward until he was practically nestled in Lucas’s lap, Jase said, “I feel terrible about this, but I forgot my wallet at home. I won’t be able to pay for the order. That won’t be a problem, will it?”
Lucas blinked. Jase’s words were at complete odds with his tone, the sweetness so false that Lucas looked to the drive-through kid with alarm. He’d have to be deaf to miss the obvious lie.
The kid waved him off with a grin. “No big deal. It’s on the house tonight.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” demurely lying Jase said.
“Please. It’s my pleasure.” The kid handed over the bag and cup. “Sure I can’t throw something else in there for you?”
It had been ages since dinner. Lucas opened his mouth, but Jase cut him off, both with a “No, thanks” and a wandering hand that crept onto Lucas’s knee. All thoughts of French fries flew from Lucas’s head. Talk about playing unfairly. He stabbed the straw into his shake and sucked for all he was worth. The ice-cream headache cooled the untimely rush of heat between his legs.
“Hey,” he said as they circled behind the building. A glance in the side mirror showed the kid leaning halfway out the service window to wave goodbye. “My annual review’s in two weeks. Wanna come?” After tonight, he was going to need all the help he could get.
He’d been expecting another smile, and Jase’s icy expression threw him off. “It isn’t a joke, Lucas.” He poked Macy’s straw into her Sprite and handed it back. She took it and began to slurp. “I don’t take advantage.”
Lucas snorted chocolate shake up his nose. “Then what was that?”
“That,” Jase said, his voice cold enough to freeze Lucas’s blood, “was me giving you the parlor trick you wanted.”
Okay, he’d asked for that. It was a short two blocks to the station, and Lucas drove like a turtle, slurping on his shake. So much for displaying that incredible empathy he was famous for. But to have such power. The things he could do. He flashed to the pain in Jase’s eyes and the ice in his voice. “Sorry,” he said as he turned into the precinct parking lot. “That was a shitty thing to say. It’s just...I’m having a hard time with all of this.”
“Do you believe it yet?”
He was in the conditional stage of belief, where he wanted to, but his brain was still calling him a fool. “Working on it.”
The precinct parking lot was surprisingly full for nearly three in the morning. Lucas crept up the row of cars, passing visitor parking and a long row of black-and-whites before easing into a spot near the back of the building. They’d left the street lamps far behind. Lucas turned off the car, then fumbled in the dark for the last of his milkshake.
“I’m scared,” Macy said, her first words since accepting her food. Not scared enough to lose her appetite. Her bag crinkled as she reached inside to grab another handful of fries. Lucas threw a pleading look Jase’s way. Even though little could have been communicated in the dark, Jase took the hint.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. “The worst is over.”
Whoa. Even Lucas didn’t taunt karma like that. But since Macy settled back in her seat and munched like a rabbit, he chose to let it go. “So, what’s the plan here?” he asked as the engine ticked.
“Don’t worry about me, Lucas. Just do what you’d normally do, and I’ll take care of myself.”
That sounded like a bit too much improvisation. “But—”
“Lucas.” Was that a hint of exasperation in Jase’s voice? “Trust me.”
Back to that. Only it was easier to swallow than it had been before. Lucas slipped his cell phone into one pocket, his keys into the other, and circled around to get Macy. “You heard the man,” he muttered to himself as he unlocked her door. “The worst is over.”
Chapter Seven
Jase waited for Lucas to get out before letting his shoulders sag. One minute without appearing completely confident was all he was asking for. He needed more, but he’d take what he could get. Lucas took his time circling around to Macy’s door, which suited Jase fine. It gave him the opportunity to rub away the ache behind his eyes, which hadn’t faded despite the Tylenol.
Macy’s voice drifted forward from the backseat. “Are you okay, Jase?”
He’d forgotten he had an audience. Straightening, he said, “Fine, honey. Just a headache.”
Macy didn’t take the answer at face value. “You don’t look fine,” she said, adding, “My mom gets headaches too. They only get better when she lies down.”
Jase cringed at her use of present tense. “It’s no big deal. I don’t need to lie down. I’m just worried about you.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” she said, and some of his tension melted at her youthful, lilting voice. “When we worry about other people, it means we’re human. It’s natural to want to take care of someone who’s hurting or in trouble.”
Jase didn’t know about that. He’d met plenty of people who’d step over a dying man on the street without thinking twice.
Macy the mind reader said, “Lots of people don’t remember how to care, but they still want to. I know they do. They just don’t know where to start.”
She sounded so sure, so confident, that Jase had trouble forming a reply. Before he could, Lucas’s shadow appeared, and the car door swung open. The overhead light snapped on, bathing Macy in a soft glow. “You ready, honey?” Lucas asked.
Macy held Jase’s gaze in the mirror, not reacting to Lucas’s hands on her seat belt. “They want to care,” she repeated. “They just need somebody to remind them how.”
Jase stared back, breath caught in his chest. “I hope you’re right.” For the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, Macy smiled.
They walked side by side up the long stretch of the building, Macy between them. Jase slowed his steps as they got closer, frowning at the flood lights mounted near the front doors. It meant fewer shadows for danger to be lurking in, but it also left them exposed and vulnerable. He could soothe Macy and Lucas all he wanted, but his own nerves were taut. Macy was going to get hurt, and no matter how he played it, there were no guarantees.
He hated this part of things. The waiting. It had only happened a handful of times, as though he’d arrived too early for a surprise party, but this was by far the worst. For one, it was a child. An innocent. And two, she was number forty. He’d been able to push that to the back of his mind for short periods, but never long enough to forget it completely. That Lucas hadn’t picked up on his tension was a miracle, especially since Jase’s platitudes bounced off his psyche like raindrops off a windshield.
He darted glances at Lucas as they walked, pondering the mystery of his immovable will—the man’s ability to resist him was baffling.
Loose and at ease, at least on the surface, Lucas held Macy’s hand and whistled some tune that had her humming along under her breath between sips of her Sprite. Jase smiled, charmed.
There would come a time, he was sure, when he’d curse the fact that he couldn’t brush Lucas aside with a word, but for the time being it was like being blind since birth, and then suddenly being able to see. He’d been alive seven years the way he kept score, and not once in all that time had he found someone who challenged him. Maybe that was the source of his obsession—that Lucas could, and likely would, tell him to go to hell if he felt like it.
After all this time, Jase had found an equal.
Whatever the source of his infatuation, he needed to keep his focus, because the night was shaping up to be the most important of his life so far, and he’d spent a fair amount of it admiring Lucas instead of being appropriately focused.
Lucas’s face twisted into a worried frown as they reached the front doors. His gaze met Jase’s briefly, then skittered away.
No jokes to crack? No trite remarks? Jase had known the other man just long enough to find that worrisome. He snagged the hem of Lucas’s T-shirt and gave a questioning pull, but all Lucas offered in return was a brief shake of his head. They pushed through the door together.
The inside of the police station fit with Jase’s expectations. Newish, built within the past decade, but showing signs of wear and tear. A long, curved desk and a wall of glass separated the waiting area from a larger space in the back, where a half dozen picture-perfect work desks sat between a forest of potted palms. All strictly for show. There wasn’t a loose paper or speck of dust to be seen, no sign of the trappings of real police work.
He picked out Martinez, who stood several feet away in a group of uniformed officers. Whatever heated conversation was occurring, she took no part in it, content to watch from the sidelines and sip coffee. Jase noticed a coiled tension in the air, and he wasn’t the only one to sense it. Halfway across the room Lucas’s sure steps faltered, and Jase braced himself to retreat quickly and quietly.
Martinez killed that option by catching sight of them. Her mouth dropped open, and her foam cup tipped at a dangerous angle. Without taking her eyes off of them, she yanked her iPod headphones out of her ears and stuffed them in her pocket.
Lucas saw her and waved, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer under his breath. Detaching herself from the circle of uniforms, Martinez met them at the door and let them through.
Her gaze passed over Lucas and Macy before landing on Jase. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
He’d been prepared for this. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
Martinez’s puzzled stare lasted long enough that a sweat broke out on his brow. Then she crinkled her nose and smiled. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You looked so familiar.”
Jase brushed the comment aside. “I’m working with Lucas on Macy’s case.”
“Of course you are.” Martinez gestured for them to follow.
The noise level increased exponentially when they passed into the back, where the real work was done. Martinez led them through another door, then another, until they reached a small lounge.
No, Jase saw, as he inspected the mirror built into the far wall. An interrogation room, dressed up as a lounge. Wary, he took Macy’s hand when she reached for him. Martinez ignored both him and Lucas and bent down to smile at Macy. Her leather belt, weighted down with the usual suspects—including a small, compact firearm—squeaked loudly as she moved, the noise obscene in the small space. Macy stepped back against Jase.
“Macy,” Lucas scolded, voice mild. “Don’t you remember Officer Martinez?”
Martinez didn’t wait for Macy’s answer. “How are you, Macy?” she asked. “Are you hurt?”
People passed by outside the door as he waited for Macy’s answer. The three of them were attracting a fair bit of attention, but it probably wasn’t every night a quiet city like Naples saw a double murder.
“I’m okay,” Macy mumbled, eyes downcast. She stuck her thumb in her mouth.
Lucas didn’t like that at all. Frowning, he scooped Macy into his arms and whispered into her ear. In answer, she laid her head on his shoulder, but the thumb slipped out. Jase felt another spark of affection; Lucas had just the right touch.
“Detective Swift has been waiting for you,” Martinez said. “Should I bring him in?”
“Yeah,” Lucas said, sounding like he’d rather have an enema. Jase wrestled with another smile.
Martinez never moved, but twenty seconds later a man appeared in the doorway, mouth set in a thin line that broadcasted concern and exasperation in equal measure. Jase moved discreetly behind Lucas. Was this Swift? It must have been, because Lucas offered his hand and mumbled, “Detective.”
Jase cut his eyes to the mirror. Who else was watching?
Swift hooked his thumbs in his belt. “I’m trying to like you, Jacobson, but you seem determined to foil my plan. You fled from a crime scene with a murder witness, who also happens to be a minor. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t report you.”
“I’m the life of the party?” Lucas asked with perfect innocence.
Swift’s eyes roamed over Macy and settled on Jase. “Who the hell is this?”
“I’m working with Lucas on this case,” Jase said, keeping it simple. For one terrifying moment the detective didn’t react at all, and Jase thought it wasn’t going to work, then Swift’s features relaxed, and he smiled.
“Sure thing. Welcome aboard...?”
“Jase.”
“Jase. Jacobson could use the backup. I have to be honest. So far his judgment has sucked.”
Lucas bristled, while Jase tried not to smile. “I completely disagree, Detective. Macy’s alive right now because of Lucas’s quick thinking. You should be thanking him.” So what if he was laying it on a bit thick? Swift was being offensive. Making judgments without all the facts. If he didn’t shape up, Jase might make him lick Lucas’s boots. Maybe he wasn’t above a parlor trick or two.
A glance at Lucas found him still whispering softly to a clinging Macy, so Jase plowed ahead. “It would be very helpful if you could give us some idea of what’s happening. Macy is obviously being targeted. Do you know why? And by whom?”
Swift’s cell phone rang. “Hang on,” he said, voice tinged with annoyance. Yanking at his shorts, he turned away to answer it.
With a frown, Martinez took a step forward, speaking quietly. “Try to show a little more respect, you guys. We’re lucky to have someone like Detective Swift on this case. He’s a hero over in Miami.”
Lucas looked underwhelmed.
“Then what’s he doing here in Naples?” Jase asked.
“On loan for an ongoing investigation. That case and Macy’s might actually be related—”
“Martinez.”
She snapped to attention. Swift flipped his phone closed. “You know better than to discuss the case so openly. I’ll decide what facts we’re willing to share.”
“Yes, sir,” Martinez said reverently, and Jase found his estimation of her dropping a couple of notches. She’d showed a strong spirit at the hospital, even under his influence. He hadn’t pegged her for an ass-kisser.
Swift sighed. “But I agree some mutual exchange of information would help everyone. The quicker we put this to bed, the better. Let’s go somewhere and talk.” He hiked up his shorts and pointed a beefy finger at Macy. “Without the kid.”
Alarm bells went off in Jase’s head. Lucas’s too, apparently. “No way,” Lucas said. “She stays with us.”
