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Enemies and Playmates Page 18
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“That’s right,” Jesse said. “I’m a private investigator.”
Phillip removed a cigar from the humidor Brian held out. To Jesse he said, “That must be interesting work.”
“Can be,” Jesse said. “And you still play with other people’s money?”
Phillip grinned. “I do indeed.”
Brian offered Jesse a cigar. Jesse shook his head. “No thanks,” he said. “But Lauren might like one.”
Brian’s eyebrows drew together. He turned to Lauren and said, “He’s kidding, right?”
Lauren nodded. “I gave them up a month ago.”
Brian couldn’t have looked more stricken if Lauren had just confessed to a sex change operation. Jesse broke into laugher. “We’re kidding, Brian,” he said. “Relax.”
Monica snickered. “You’ll have to excuse Brian. He’s been quite wrapped up in his work lately. Sometimes he forgets to take time out for humor.”
“I’ve been under a lot of stress,” Brian said. “That damn Simmons account has me rattled.”
Phillip sighed, shook his head. “That’s a tremendous responsibility. Henry Simmons trusts very few people with his money.”
Monica patted Brian’s leg. “He’s been so uptight about this. You’d think it was our own money he was investing.”
“Well this entire account hinges on what I do with this one investment,” Brian explained.
Lauren and Jesse exchanged a glance. Jesse made a ridiculous face and Lauren had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
The conversation continued along its dull path of self-involved grandiosity a few minutes longer. Then Brian turned to Jesse and said, “What have you been doing with yourself lately?”
“The usual,” Jesse said. “Hiding in bushes, eating at cheap diners, running through alleys, and getting my face smashed.”
Monica wrinkled her nose. “Can’t you find a better class of clients?”
“Hell, my clients are rich,” Jesse said. “That’s what I do for fun.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Monica said.
Jesse shrugged. “I can hardly aspire to match the caliber of the social class you consort with. And, of course, peasants such as myself are merely allowed to peek in the windows of the establishments people such as yourself frequent.”
Monica rolled her eyes. “Oh please.”
Lauren repressed a giggle. She said, “What do you do for work, Monica?”
“I’m a consultant for a company that handles travel arrangements for the clients of large firms,” Monica said.
“Rich clients,” Jesse said. “And multi-million dollar companies.”
“Sounds like a fun career,” Lauren said.
“Jesse tells me that you’re attending college,” Monica said. “You plan to become a journalist?”
“That’s the plan,” Lauren said.
The maid brought two large polished silver trays. One held a coffee urn with six delicate china coffee cups. The other had an arrangement of fancy miniature desserts. She placed the trays on the beautiful etched wooden coffee table, then slipped quietly from the room.
As Monica served the coffee, Jesse’s cell phone blasted out the first few notes of an old AC/DC song. He checked the caller ID. “Mrs. Hartman,” he said. “A client.” Then he excused himself and stepped out into the hall.
“Doesn’t that bother you?” Monica asked Lauren.
“The business call?” Lauren said.
“Yes. And on a holiday, at that.”
“I don’t mind. That’s part of his job.”
Monica shook her head. “He could have had such a promising career as a lawyer. Yet he walked away from that and instead chose to become a police officer. I eventually adjusted to that stunning turnaround. He did so well with the force. He could have climbed the ranks in no time at all.”
“He wasn’t happy as a cop,” Lauren said. “And he’s got a great career now.”
“Monica worries about Jesse,” Brian said. He leaned in close, as if confiding a national secret. “He has a tendency toward a wild streak.”
Lauren chuckled. “I’ve noticed.”
“Doesn’t the danger frighten you?” Monica asked.
“You mean with his job or his personality?”
Monica rolled her eyes. “Both.”
“He knows what he’s doing,” Lauren said.
“He could easily have become a ranking officer. He could have gotten himself a wonderfully cushy desk job and eventually risen into politics.”
“Jesse never would have done that. He’d be miserable trapped at a desk all day. And I honestly can’t imagine him in any sort of political career. He’d be more likely to punch out a senator than sit down and make deals with one.”
Monica sighed, shook her head. “I suppose you’re right.”
Jesse stepped back into the room and all eyes turned his way. He cocked his head and grinned. “Is my fly down?”
Five minutes later his cell phone rang again. Monica frowned. “Why don’t you shut that thing off,” she said. “It is a holiday, you know.”
“I’m doing it just to piss you off,” Jesse said.
“Very funny.”
Jesse checked the display on his phone, then excused himself once more. Cassandra turned to Lauren. “I don’t know how you tolerate it,” she said. “I would have no patience for that sort of thing.”
Lauren could think of no polite response, so she said nothing.
Brian said, “Give the guy a break. This is, after all, his chosen profession. None of you would be complaining if he had become a surgeon and was now receiving calls from a hospital.”
Monica groaned. “That is precisely the point. Had he become a surgeon or had he continued on to become a lawyer, he would be getting paid what his time is worth. For goodness sake, even if he had stuck with police work, which I did not initially condone, he would be rising in the ranks and eventually hold a position worthy of him.”
Monica turned to Lauren. “Did you know that Jesse finished first in his class at the police academy? He also graduated from Boston College with a three-point-nine grade point average. That, while he was goofing off and refusing to take his studies seriously. Jesse is brilliant. He deserves better.”
“But he’s happy,” Lauren said.
Jesse stepped into the room and motioned for Lauren to go with him. “Excuse us,” he said.
They stepped into the hall. Jesse’s expression was strained. He stared off behind Lauren at nothing in particular, while his hand rested protectively around her waist. Lauren assumed he’d heard the conversation in the den and was upset. She touched his cheek. “Are you okay?”
He met her eyes. “Your father’s in the hospital.”
“The hospital? What happened?”
Jesse blew out a long breath. “He was shot. Outside his condo, this morning.”
“Shot? My God. How bad is he?”
“Not life-threatening. The bullet caught him in the shoulder.”
Lauren had a strange feeling, almost like disappointment. She shook it off. What was wrong with her? “Who did it?” she asked.
Jesse huffed a heavy breath. “Apparently I did.”
“What?”
“He’s demanding the cops arrest me. I guess they’re looking for me now.”
“But that’s ridiculous!”
“Take it easy.” Jesse put his arms around Lauren. “I’ll go in and talk to them. But you and I need to talk first.”
Lauren searched Jesse’s eyes. Her father had been shot that morning. She hadn’t gotten to Jesse’s apartment until almost noon. She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “Jesse, did you… Are they right? Did you shoot my father?”
“Hell no,” Jesse said. “Though I can’t say I haven’t thought about it.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I’m sorry, Lauren, but if I’d done it, your father would be dead.”
Lauren nodded. That much she didn’t doubt for a moment. “Then
what else do you need to talk to me about?” A sudden panic gripped her. “Oh no, my mom. Is she okay?”
“Your mother’s fine,” Jesse said. He glanced at the doorway to the den. When he spoke, his voice was hushed. “A red sports car was spotted speeding from the scene when your father was shot.”
“So?”
“Doesn’t Gina drive a red Solstice?”
Lauren’s eyes widened. “You don’t think…”
“I don’t know. It’s just a hunch. You have to admit that Gina’s been unstable these days.”
The heavy meal in Lauren’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. “If it was her Jesse, I don’t want anyone to find out.”
“I don’t know that I can control that.”
“We’ve got to find out for sure.”
“We will,” Jesse said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Jesse parked his Mustang on the street in front of Gina’s house. The driveway was filled to capacity. Guests celebrating the holiday.
Lauren gazed at the house, with its neat tan shutters against soft beige siding. A shiver raced down her spine. “What are we going to do if she says she did it?”
“What do you want to do?” Jesse asked.
Lauren took a deep breath, shook her head. Odd that she was feeling so protective toward someone she’d hated only days ago. She’d since realized that Gina had been a victim of her father as well. She said, “I don’t know but I don’t want her arrested. She needs help, counseling, not jail.”
“I can’t promise we can keep that from happening. But I’ll do whatever I can.”
They walked to the front door. Lauren’s stomach twisted. The lavish dinner she’d eaten such a short time ago threatened to erupt like a volcano. “I wouldn’t blame her if she did it,” she murmured.
“I know.”
Gina came to the door, a broad smile lighting up her face. “Hey guys, I didn’t expect to see you today.” Then, noticing their somber expressions, her smile fell. “Uh-oh. Come in. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Laughter drifted out from the living room. “Can you come out here instead?” Lauren said.
Gina stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. “What’s going on?”
Lauren stuffed her hands in her pockets. She wanted to see innocence in Gina’s eyes. She tried to say the words but she stammered and wound up uttering a mangled half-sentence that made no sense.
Jesse drew Lauren close. He said, “Lauren’s father was shot earlier today.”
Gina’s face instantly went pale. “Oh my God.”
“He’s in the hospital now,” Jesse said. “But he should be fine.”
“Are you okay?” Lauren asked.
“Me? I… You didn’t get hurt, did you? And your mom? How did this happen?”
“I don’t know,” Lauren said. “He was leaving his condo. It happened in the parking lot.”
“Oh.”
“Gina, if you were…” Lauren hesitated, searching for the right words. “If you spent the night there with him, the police will find out.”
“He doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Gina said. She glanced nervously toward her front door. Then she stepped a few feet away and continued in a quiet tone. “I saw him briefly early last night. He…” Gina shivered, wrapped her arms around herself. “He said I have exactly one week to abort this baby. If I don’t, he promised he would take care of it for me. He doesn’t want a bastard child disturbing his perfect world.”
“Oh Gina…” Lauren said.
“For the first time, I’m truly afraid of him.”
They talked about that and about Gina’s options for a few minutes. Then Gina returned to the noisy party inside her house and Jesse drove Lauren home. They were both silent most of the way. When he pulled into her driveway, she said, “What do you think? She didn’t do it, right?”
“I would say no, she didn’t.”
A wave of relief eased the tension in Lauren’s muscles. “Good,” she said.
“I’ll call you when I’m finished at the station.”
“They won’t actually arrest you, will they?”
“No. They’ve got nothing.”
Lauren frowned. “You’re not convinced.”
“I’m innocent.” Jesse shrugged. “But I don’t know what kind of story your father has told them. And I don’t know why he would want the cops to think I did it, rather than find who really did.”
“Maybe because he knows who did. And he plans to handle that himself.”
“Could be.”
“Do you think someone was trying to rob him?” Lauren asked. “Maybe that’s what this was about? Not, you know, something he did?”
“I don’t know. Your father has made more than a few enemies. And Tim didn’t mention anything about your father being robbed.”
“You know something?”
“What?”
“I wish whoever shot him had better aim.”
22
Lauren sat stiff on the living room sofa, clutching her cell phone and wishing for news from Jesse. She’d been sitting in that silent spot for two hours. During that time her phone had rung three times. All three calls had been from her mother. With a pang of guilt, she’d let the calls go to her voicemail.
The guilt she felt had nothing to do with her father. The bastard deserved to die. Part of her wanted to be shocked at feeling that way. He was, after all, her father. Still, the simple fact was that he deserved what he had gotten and worse. And she was okay with feeling that way.
However, leaving her mother to deal with it all was a different story. That was where the guilt came in. She should be at the hospital. Not for her father. But to support her mother.
How could she, though? How was she supposed to face her mother with all she knew and keep pretending they were a happy family? How could she continue to keep the secrets?
No doubt her mother would be playing the part of the loving, dedicated wife. No one would see her bruises because she covered them all and hid inside herself. Her mother had been shattered but no one ever saw the broken pieces. Even Lauren was guilty of overlooking them.
Lauren swiped a tear from her cheek. She stood and stretched the kinks from her back. Why hadn’t Jesse called? The cops couldn’t have arrested him. That was crazy. They had no evidence. But they did have her father’s word. And her father had his connections.
Why would her father have said Jesse did it? Was he simply taking this opportunity to ruin Jesse’s life?
Lauren’s head throbbed. Too many questions. Too many complications.
Somehow she found herself upstairs, standing in the doorway to Stephen’s room. A thin layer of dust had settled over his furniture. She leaned against the doorframe, tears sliding down her cheeks. She should have known how desperate he’d become. She should have tried harder to save him.
“I won’t let him get away with it,” Lauren said to the room. “You said I was the strong one. Well I’m trying to live up to that and I could really use your help. I’m tired of keeping the silence. He has to be stopped.”
The garage door eased open and a car rumbled inside. Lauren took a deep breath and wiped the tears that had slid down her cheeks. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t pretend. She couldn’t stand by and watch her father destroy everyone she loved.
“Lauren!” Kara called. “Are you home?”
Lauren descended the stairs, meeting her mother at the bottom. Kara’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She said, “I’ve been calling you for hours. I’ve left three messages.”
“I know,” Lauren said softly.
“You father is in the hospital,” Kara said.
Lauren couldn’t bring herself to comfort her mother. It was all too much of a pretense. Why would any woman be upset if her abuser had been shot?
Lauren moved past her mother and sat on the sofa. “I know,” she said. “He was shot. How is he?”
“You know?” Kara’s expression moved from confusion to hurt. �
��Why didn’t you come to the hospital?”
Lauren shook her head. She wasn’t sure her mother was ready to hear what she had to say. She said nothing.
“The bullet lodged in his shoulder,” Kara finally said. “The surgeons removed it and said there was no serious damage. He’s in recovery now.”
“Do the police know who did it?” Lauren asked. “Or why?”
Kara perched on the edge of the couch beside Lauren. She said, “Your father thinks Jesse may be responsible.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why didn’t you come to the hospital?”
Lauren stared open-mouthed at her mother. “You don’t actually believe him, do you?”
“Lauren, if you know something…”
Lauren stood. “You can’t honestly believe Jesse did this.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Kara said. “Why would your father implicate Jesse if he didn’t have good reason?”
“Why does dad do any of the things he does?” Lauren said. “Jesse had nothing to do with whatever happened.”
Kara stared down at the floor. She held her hand over her mouth and sobbed.
“You don’t believe me,” Lauren said. “Do you?”
“I know you and your father have been having problems lately.”
“Lately? Try most of my life, Mom.”
“But things have been much worse these days. And it all seems to revolve around Jesse.”
“This is insane!”
“Your father only wants what’s best for you.”
“That’s never been true.” Lauren paced across the room. “How can you even say that?”
“I know he hasn’t been the best father but he does love you. Maybe there’s a reason why he hasn’t wanted you with Jesse. Maybe there are things you don’t know.”
“I can’t get over you!” Lauren said. “How can you defend him after all he’s done?”
“Please calm down. Try to see this from his perspective.”
“His perspective? He hates Jesse because Jesse stood up to him. It has nothing to do with him wanting the best for me.”
“That’s Jesse’s side of the story,” Kara said. “Have you truly listened to your father’s side?”