03 - Organized Grime (22 page)

“What’s going on?” He stepped into my apartment and deposited his briefcase by the front door.

 I decided to cut the chit-chat. “I think Broken Arrow is involved in Sierra’s disappearance.”

He crossed his arms. “Why would you think that?”

“Because Tim and I found her name tag in his trash.”

His expression would best be described as somber. “What do you mean you ‘found her nametag in his trash’?”

At the moment, I would rather actually go dumpster diving than own up to what I’d done. But Riley stared at me, rightfully angry. There was no hiding the truth. I told him what we’d done.

His hands went to his hips, and his voice sounded low—disappointed. “You probably couldn’t wait until I left so you could sneak behind my back and keep investigating, could you?”

“I’m your girlfriend, not your servant. You don’t control me.” Where did that come from?

Riley let out an exasperated breath. He reached for me, but I stepped back. Finally, his hand dropped to his side.

“I’m not trying to control you, Gabby. I’m just pointing out that you promised me you wouldn’t do this. You promised me you’d stay out of it.”

My soul felt like it was shrinking. “I couldn’t ignore what happened to Sierra, Riley. I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”

“There are dangerous men out there, Gabby. More dangerous than any you’ve encountered before because they’ll stop at nothing to accomplish what they want to accomplish.”

“What do you know that you’re not telling me, Riley? You keep hinting at it, but not telling me anything!”

He looked away. “I can’t say.”

“Is it something that would help me to find Sierra? At least, to clear her?”

His jaw flexed. “It’s attorney-client privilege. I can’t share.”

“You might know something that could save my friend’s life and you can’t share it? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“What do you want me to do, Gabby? Be disbarred? I’m between a rock and a hard place.”

I crossed my arms and scowled. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

Riley pinched the skin between his eyes and leaned back against the kitchen counter. Awkward silence stretched between us. In between fighting my anger, I fought the tears that wanted to show themselves.

Finally, Riley raised his head. “What are we doing, Gabby? Why is this conversation turning into a fight?”

Tears stung at my eyes as the truth that had been haunting me the past couple of days replayed itself in my mind. Finally, I raised my head and forced my chin out. “Maybe people can’t change, Riley. Maybe I’m just like my dad after all.”

“That’s not true, Gabby.” His voice sounded low, even, and I wanted to believe him. But I couldn’t.

“We’re from two different worlds, Riley. Your family could be on the Real Housewives of Washington D.C. and mine could be on Jersey Shore. The two don’t mix.”

Riley’s eyes softened, his head tilted, and he reached for me. “We’re not that different. Don’t do this, Gabby.”

I stepped back before his hands rested too long at my shoulders. “Do what?”

“I hope you’re not going where I think you’re going.”

I turned my back toward him and paced toward the door, knowing if I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes that I would break. “You’re going to want me to be a reserved little girlfriend who goes to your little hoity-toity functions with you and never makes waves.”

“I just want you to be you.”

But did he? Did he really? “You don’t want me to investigate this case.”

“Because I care about you! Because I know what kind of danger you’re in!”

I twirled around and saw that he’d followed me into the living room. “Is that really why, Riley? Or is it because I make you look bad?”

He winced. “Gabby, you know that’s not true.”

I wiped at a tear streaming down my face. “You should go now.” I pointed toward the door.

His eyes were watery now, also. “I’m not ready to give up on us. Please don’t do this.”

I didn’t answer. I turned and stomped to my bedroom, slamming the door and locking it. A moment later, I heard Riley leave. I shoved my face into the pillow and wept.

Chapter Thirty-One

The next morning, I felt depleted after a night of crying. I didn’t feel like I was ever going to run out of tears lately. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new emotional Gabby.

I drug myself out of bed and tried not to listen for any sounds of Riley across the hall. I was so used to doing just that, though. My heart panged at the thought.

I knew I’d just ruined something great. But our break up was inevitable.

But if it was inevitable, why did I feel so terrible? Why did my every thought and heartbeat cause my entire body to ache?

I began a pot of coffee and looked at the clock on my microwave. I blinked at the blurry blue numbers there. 11:30. Really?

I stuck a cup in the microwave, waited for the time to be up, and then sat down at my dinette. I didn’t even take a sip. Instead, I wiped my tears with my sleeves.

I had to do something to get my mind off Riley. I had to focus on Sierra. Even though the FBI thought that photo they’d found was authentic, I still held on to the hope that she was alive. After all, wouldn’t I feel it down in my soul if my friend were dead? And if she were dead, I needed to know who did it. I needed to make sure they were behind bars.

The phone rang, pulling me out of my misery. I didn’t recognize the number, which probably meant it was someone calling looking for a cleaner.

“I’m trying to reach Gabby St. Claire.” A crisp feminine voice came through the line.

Chad was going to be busy for the next couple of days working on his own, which meant we wouldn’t be able to accommodate any new clients time-wise. “I’m a bit out of commission at the moment, so if you’re looking for someone to clean up after a crime…”

“This is Glenda Perkins from the Medical Examiner’s office.”

I sat up straight, my earlier despair momentarily gone. I ran a hand through my hair as if Dr. Perkins could see me. “This is Gabby. Sorry about that.”

“I was hoping you could come in for an interview tomorrow.”

“An interview? Yes. Of course. Absolutely.”

She chuckled. “Great. Does 3:30 work?”

“I’ll be there.”

Wow, I’d actually gotten an interview. I hung up and leaned back in awe.

My phone rang again. Who now? Bruce’s number popped up. I nearly didn’t answer. But I did. I tried to lighten my voice as I said hello.

“Gabriella. It’s Bruce. You cleaned my house last Monday.”

“And I did such a good job that you want to hire me?”

He chuckled. “Not quite.”

“Your friends want to hire me?”

“I was actually calling to see if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”

My throat went dry. “Coffee?” Would this be my chance to find out more information about Sierra and what had happened to her? Until there was a body, I wouldn’t accept that she was dead. I was a need-proof kind of girl. Besides, coffee would be safe. It would be out in public with lots of escape routes and witnesses. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. How about tonight? Around seven?”

I’d rather have my teeth pulled than actually go on a date with the man. But I shoved those thoughts to the side for the greater good. “Only if I can pick the place.”

“I suppose I could let you do that.” Just the way he said that gave me the creeps. Socials skills he had not, which just added to the image I had of him as a crazy lone wolf taking on the evil world.

Despite that, we agreed to meet at The Grounds. It was the place where I’d feel the safest. Also a place where I was most likely to be discovered. But I’d take my chances.

I glanced at my watch. Eight hours until game time. I expelled the breath I held.

Sierra. I had to think about Sierra.

Because if I thought about Riley, I was going to break.

***

Butterflies seemed too nice a term to describe what was going on in my stomach. It felt more like bats floundering around in my innards, or maybe even vultures clumsily circling around my gut and maybe even a few more organs. I wasn’t sure. I squirmed in my chair one more time.

Sharon walked over. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just remember my signal that I need help.”

“Right. You’ll stand up and yell fire. I should get the hint.”

Perfect. That’s what I intended. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

She paused and raised a pierced eyebrow at me. “Does Riley know you’re doing this?”

Those bats in my stomach began nose diving at everything in sight. “No, I didn’t tell him. Besides, we…we broke up.”

Her mouth drooped open, her black lipstick forming something close to a typeset “O.” “Broke up? Why?”

I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. Every time I did, my heart squeezed with what I could only describe as anguish. “I don’t know why I ever thought we’d work out anyway.”

“You’re perfect together. A lot of men would feel really threatened by your strong personality. Riley is confident enough to handle you, yet to let you be yourself.” Sharon stared at me, wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes. “We need to talk later.”

Her words started to do a number on my heart when someone walked into the coffeehouse. I quickly straightened, putting those thoughts aside. “Later,” I whispered.

Sharon went back to work wiping down the tables. I noticed she stayed close, probably because she realized what a dumb idea this was. I even acknowledged that. But I wasn’t going to back down.

 Bruce must have dressed up for me because his jeans actually looked clean and his shirt only had one stain. He smiled when he saw me, though the action didn’t look quite natural. Did it ever with Bruce? He was one odd bird, and coming from me that meant a lot.

“Good to see you, Gabriella.” He pulled a potted plant from behind his back. “For you. I usually don’t believe in giving gifts—the gesture seems so superficial and inauthentic—but since you cleaned my house, I thought I would bring this to you.”

“It’s…” I stared at the skinny plant with large, green, puppet-like leaves on top…leaves with little fang-like points surrounding them. “Is that a Venus flytrap?”

He nodded. “Yep. It sure is. Aren’t they the coolest?”

I had to admit that the little plant was pretty cool, even if the thought behind it seemed a little twisted and morbid. Who gave someone a Venus flytrap on the first date?

Sharon cleared her throat, eyeing the plant before turning that sharp gaze on me. “Can I take your orders?”

Hm… she’d never taken orders at the table before. Nonetheless, I complied, as did Bruce. After she left, awkward silence fell. Normally I went into acting mode pretty easily, but at the moment, my heart just panged. I missed Riley. I wanted to be sitting across from him right now and not Bruce.

Would my relationship with Riley ever be the same? I doubted it. We’d given romance a shot and it hadn’t worked out. I just had to accept that fact and move on.

Bruce pointed to my eye, twirling his finger in little circles, and frowned. “Everything okay? You look like you’ve been through the ringer.”

He sure knew how to butter someone up with sweet words. “Just had a little accident. I’ll be fine.”

He leaned forward, his eyes serious. “I’m glad you agreed to meet for coffee, Gabriella. I have to say that I was really impressed with you when we spoke at my place. You showed a great depth of knowledge and concern for our environment. I liked that.”

“Thanks. I try. I mean, we’ve only got one chance to take care of our planet, right?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned back and shifted his weight.  “I wanted to talk to you about a special project I’m working on.”

And here I thought he’d wanted to sweet talk me with his flattery. I swallowed, my saliva burning my throat. “Oh really? What is it?”

He observed me a moment, his eyes as piercing as a knife glimmering in the moonlight. “I can’t tell you that yet.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “Why not? You brought it up.”

“I’m not sure if I can trust you.” He tapped the table with his fingers.

“Then why are you here? Why are you talking to me?”

“I’m trying to figure out if I can trust you. That’s why.” He continued tapping with enough frequency that I wanted to slam my hand over his to stop the noise. I resisted.

Sharon brought our drinks, and I welcomed the interruption. I wrapped my fingers around my latte, wondering if I should have gotten something stronger.

As soon as she left, I leaned toward Bruce. “So, what is it? You want to boycott something? Form picket lines? Write a newspaper editorial?”

He took a long sip of coffee. The strands from angry girl music wafted through the place as I waited for him to finish his coffee and his thought. Finally, he shook his head. “No, I’ve tried all of those things, and they didn’t work.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Are you talking about something…” I rubbed the side of the warm ceramic mug. “Illegal?”

He blanched, baring his teeth with the action. “No, not illegal. Just something that would make a statement.”

Tread carefully, Gabby.
I tried to keep my voice even.
“You mean like setting that housing development on fire? The one that was built on the wetlands in Chesapeake?”

His lips twisted in a frown. “No, someone beat me to that. I wish I could take credit.”

“That would have been illegal, Bruce. People died.”

“Yes, that was the tragic part. Someone should have planned much more carefully. It was sloppy work.”

“Any idea who did it?”

He shrugged. “Rumor’s going around that it was an amateur. I don’t believe the person being accused is guilty, though.”

“You mean that animal rights activist? I saw her picture on the news.”

His mood seemed very somber as he nodded. “Yeah, her name is Sierra.”

“You know her?”

“We’ve met. She was too smart to do something like that, though.”

I drew in a shaky breath. “How about that office building that was bombed? Do you think that was connected?”