Part 16 (1/2)

Jordan wasn't his.

Joel looked wounded. ”I can see you don't like hearing that any more than Olivia did.”

Jordan wouldn't be baited. He came here for a reason. Just one. ”When does it come? And how much?”

Joel's expression hardened. ”Well, if you ain't the one sending it, then I guess that ain't none of your d.a.m.n business. Is it?”

This time, it was Jordan who was caught off guard. But his defenses were high, and he wasn't about to lose sight of what he'd come here for. He wasn't going to let this old fool drag him into some kind of personal confrontation, because he didn't give a d.a.m.n enough about Joel Tunson to even want to argue with him.

”It's going to stop,” he threatened. ”You've gotten your last dime of Gatewood money.” It was a dig, and Jordan could see the sting in the old man's eyes.

Joel stood up slowly, disappeared into the living room, and came back a few minutes later with a faded yellow pillowcase, stood over Jordan, and dumped stacks of money in front of him. ”Take your G.o.dd.a.m.ned money! I never wanted it! That motha f.u.c.ka took my wife, and he took my son! What the h.e.l.l would I want his money for?”

There had to have been hundreds of thousands of dollars on that table.

”Whoever's putting it in my bank can go to h.e.l.l!” Joel growled. ”Be it you! Or Olivia! Or who the h.e.l.l keeps sending it!” He stalked around to the other side of the table, and glared at Jordan, nostrils flaring. ”You don't have to like it, but I'm the one who made you!” His chest heaved. ”I'm the one who carried you in the house when I brought you and your momma home from the hospital because she was too tired to carry you! I'm the one who rocked you to sleep, and who played with you out there in that yard!” He pointed. Joel's eyes glazed over with tears. ”She begged me to let you both go! Said, if I loved you, I'd want better for you than I could give! Said that Gatewood could give you all the things a boy could want! Said she'd hate me for the rest of her days if I didn't let her go!” Joel's voice cracked. ”I'm the one”-he pointed his finger hard in his chest-”who loved you, Theodore! Even more than she did!”

Joel tossed the empty pillow case on top of the pile of money, and stormed out of the kitchen. ”Getcho G.o.dd.a.m.ned money and get the h.e.l.l outta my house!”

Jordan sat frozen, even as the sound of the screen door echoed through that shack of a house. He had come here to ask one question. That's all. He'd expected to leave with one answer. Jordan stood up, stared at all that money, slipped on his Ray-Bans and left. Joel was back to watering his plot of dirt. He didn't turn around when he heard the screen door slam as Jordan left the house. He didn't turn around when he heard the sound of Jordan closing his car door, or starting up his engine. Jordan didn't even see him turn around in his rearview mirror as he drove slowly down the street, leading away from that old house-the house he'd lived in after he was born.

What a Wild-Eyed Beast You Be ”Frank, man, what the h.e.l.l is going on?” Lawrence, his old partner before he was paired up with Colette, called him. ”Is it true?”

Frank suddenly had that sick feeling in his stomach. It was late. Phone calls this time of night were never good. Frank swung his feet over to the side of the bed. ”What're you talking about?” This was it. Frank had been sitting on pins and needles pretending that he wasn't waiting for this moment, but it was never far enough away from his thoughts. s.h.i.+t, if it hadn't already hit the fan, it was about to.

”They arrested Colette, Frank. For murder. Says she shot some drug dealer. Is it true?”

Frank groaned without realizing it, squeezed his eyes shut, and swallowed the bile boiling up in the back of his throat. They had her. That meant that they had him, too.

”What the h.e.l.l's up, Frank? You know anything about this?”

Frank opened his eyes. He hadn't heard from Lawrence in months, maybe even a year, and now all of a sudden, the dude had his cell phone number. Frank straightened his back. He took a deep breath to help clear his mind. Lawrence didn't call him because he was a concerned friend. He called Frank because they were trying to get him to confess.

Desperation engulfed him and the instinct to save himself took over reason. He had to think fast. Frank had never been much of an actor, but if he was smart, he'd act his a.s.s off now so good he'd deserve an Oscar. ”They arrested Colette for murder?” he said, doing his best ”d.a.m.n, how could that happen?” impression. ”Nah, man. That can't be-Nah! Not Colette. Somebody must've made a mistake, Lawrence. You know Colette. She's a good cop, a d.a.m.n good cop. Nah!”

Lawrence waited too long to respond, which confirmed what Frank suspected all along. The man was sitting in an interrogation room, maybe with another cop, maybe with Colette sitting right there across the table from him. He'd cast a hook out into the pond and had hoped Frank would nibble. Frank didn't take the bait.

”They got a witness, Frank. A witness that saw Colette arguing with this cat named Reggie. He had his younger brother in the backseat of the car, crouched down so that Colette couldn't see him. Said the kid was sixteen.”

”The kid's lying!” Frank shot back. ”I worked with her for years, man. I know her. I know her better than I know myself. Colette wouldn't do that, not unless he had it coming. Not unless he pulled a gun on her or she felt threatened.” Frank's mind was reeling. The words were popping into his head faster than he could say them, and he couldn't help but to marvel at just how good of a liar he really was.

Again, Lawrence took too long to say anything. Frank held this mental picture of him sending hand signals to another cop in the room, or scribbling down notes. Maybe he had his hand over the mouthpiece of the receiver while someone else gave him direction. In any case, Frank knew that one wrong word from him would be the end of his freedom. His palms were sweating. Frank concentrated on taking long, slow, even breaths.

”She's saying something else, Frank,” Lawrence finally chimed in. ”Saying that you and her had something to do with killing Ed and Jake.” His voice trailed off, and he paused. ”She's said that y'all shot them-”

The sound of the world cras.h.i.+ng down around him was deafening. Frank raked his hand across his head. Sweat broke out on his face. ”What? Are you-is this some kind of a joke, Lawrence, man?” Frank laughed nervously. ”You know that s.h.i.+t's not funny, man. I don't know what kind of game y'all playing, but it ain't cool,” he said evenly.

”That's what I heard, man,” he said dismally. ”I heard she said that she's not going down for this by herself.”

”No.” He shook his head. Lawrence was baiting him. It was the oldest cop trick in the book. He was dangling some s.h.i.+t in front of him to get him to slip up and say the wrong thing.

”Colette's in a bad spot. This ain't looking good. Not looking good at all.”

”No, man! No! She didn't kill n.o.body! Neither of us are killers! You know I wouldn't do no s.h.i.+t like that, and you know that Colette wouldn't either!”

”They got her, Frank. They got the kid who said he saw her do it. They got ballistic that matched the kind of gun that killed that dude to the same kind she bought for her personal use, a few years back.”

”How do you know all this?” Frank challenged. If Lawrence wanted to play games, then Frank was going to play it too, and call his a.s.s out on his bluff. ”How you know so much, Lawrence? You sound like you're working the case!”

Lawrence didn't respond right away. ”Did you kill those cops, Frank?”

Frank shook his head as if Lawrence could see him.

”Frank?”

”I can't believe that you'd think I'd be capable of doing something like that,” he said quietly. ”How long have you known me, Lawrence? How long were we partners? I came to the hospital when your last kid was born, man. You took me out to get drunk after my divorce was final.”

”Did you kill those cops, Frank?” he asked again, more gravely this time.

Frank had pieced it all together in his head. Colette was arrested for killing Reggie and she fell apart.

”I wouldn't shoot another cop,” Frank said quietly. ”And f.u.c.k you for asking.” He hung up the phone, and then looked at the door, knowing that at any moment, they were coming for him.

”He'll run,” Colette said, sitting across from Lawrence. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and bloodshot for being up all night. She was tweaking for another fix. The drugs had done this to her, turned her into what she was now. Colette could admit that.

The detective standing over Lawrence shrugged. ”He won't get far.”

Colette craved a cigarette, but she knew they wouldn't give her one. ”I saw that kid,” she volunteered. ”I saw him, and I could've shot him too.” Her gaze dropped. ”But, I couldn't shoot a kid...” Her voice trailed off. ”It wouldn't have been right.”

”You had no problem shooting your fellow officers, though,” he said matter-of-factly.

She smirked. ”They weren't boy scouts.” She glanced at him. ”They wanted in on a bad deal,” she volunteered. Her mind warned her to shut the h.e.l.l up, but Colette and her mind hadn't gotten along together in years. She was caught, and she was going to prison. But she wasn't going by her d.a.m.n self.

”The two of you could've just let them in on whatever it was you had with Rodriguez,” the detective said. ”You didn't have to kill them.”

She thought about it, and tried to recall the details of that day. ”Jake pulled his gun first,” she said introspectively.

”So you say,” he challenged her.

”Frank saw him. We only pulled our weapons because they did.”

”Well, they're not here to corroborate your version of the story.”

”Frank can.”

”But will he?”

She wasn't going to do this by herself. Even if he did run, he didn't have the money to go far enough away. That stupid-a.s.s scheme of his to get that rich man to get him money had fallen apart. Unless, of course, he'd lied. Maybe he did have the money, and maybe he never had any intention of sharing it with her.