Club Justice (19 page)

“I have to go, Mom. I need to get dinner started for the boys. I put the rest of your chicken breast and pasta in the refrigerator if you want to warm that up for dinner.”

Lillian tilted her cheek to Ginny without a word. Twisting her purse strap in an attempt not to strangle the old woman, Ginny dutifully dropped a kiss on the lined cheek and left the apartment. Digging her keys and cell phone out of her purse, she hit Kat’s number.

“Do you and Crux want to come over for Mexican and mas margaritas tonight?” she asked without so much as a hello. Kat laughed.

“That bad huh? Sure. Since when would I turn down your margaritas, virgin or not? What do you want me to bring?”

“Just an extra bag of chips, oh, and a bag of ice, would you? The mood I’m in… my ice maker might not be able to keep up with demand.”

“Why don’t I stop by the shop and let Crux know the plans and then I’ll come on over and help with dinner preparation. We can get a head start on the margaritas and you can vent.”

“You’re one in a million.”

“What are best friends for? I’ll see you in twenty.”

Stitches pulling, Zeke stepped from the Durango with a slight grimace. The roar of a bike down the block drew his attention and he hesitated in closing the garage door down. A moment later Crux rolled into the drive.

“Hey, brother, what’s up?”

“You invited my ugly mug to dinner,” Crux said with a wicked grin and a wink.

“As long as Kat’s here to counterbalance your ugliness I guess it’s okay,” Zeke chuckled, slapping his friend on the shoulder and leading him in through the garage. “Let’s go see what’s for dinner.”

The pungent smell of chili peppers, roasting meat, and fresh garden salsa met the men in the kitchen. A peek in the oven revealed large trays of enchiladas. Swiping a chip through a bowl of guacamole, Zeke followed the laughter to the back patio where the women were lounging in the sun, drinks in hand. 

“Are you looking at this, brother?” he asked Crux, hands settling on his hips as he regarded the women. “We bust our ass all day at work so that these two can live the good life.”

“You got to admit they look good doing it,” Crux said, raising his sunglasses to admire the ladies.

Zeke cracked up, any facade of irritation disappearing.

“That I do. Want a beer?” 

“Sounds good,” Crux replied, eyes narrowing on his wife. “That margarita better be virgin.”

“Have a taste for yourself. It’s been a while since you had a virgin.” Kat teased offering him the drink.

“Damn well better be.”

“Stop being such a grouch. Like our kid won’t be dysfunctional enough without me adding to it.”

“Now, why would you say that? There’s not going to be anything wrong with our baby,” Crux said, hurt obvious in his tone.

Kat shook her head

“Drink that beer a little faster, honey. You are way too serious tonight. I was just saying, with us for parents, what chance does the kid have of being normal? It was a joke.”

“Long day,” the grizzled biker admitted, leaning down to give her a kiss and her flat belly a pat before dropping into a chair.

“Couple shots to take the edge off?” Ginny offered, lifting the tequila bottle in invitation.

“I don’t mind if I do.”

“What’s going on at the shop that’s driving you to drink?” Zeke asked.

“I think Mox is ragging it. The big ox has been in a shit mood for a couple of weeks. For a while, it seemed Sambo was the one in his sites. Now, it’s whoever crosses his path. He went nose to nose with Big Red this afternoon over something. Even Rhys can’t talk to him without getting his head bit off. That kind of tension in a normally relaxed shop just makes for a long ass day.”

“I’ll have another talk with him,” Ginny said, brow furrowing in worry.

“Jesus, the boy’s not a baby anymore. It just could be he doesn’t want to talk to his mommy about whatever it is,” Zeke said, rolling his eyes.

“And it just could be he does want to talk to me about it. This probably stems back to some crazy thing that bitch Flo put in his head. Her and Kramer would make a fine pair. Nothing but lies and self serving drivel ever comes out of either.”

“Lillian still upset today?”

“The old bat is crazy,” Ginny muttered taking a long drink of her margarita. “She’s still convinced you had something to do with Trent’s death. She barely spoke to me today and every time your name came up she glared daggers at me.” 

“I’m feeling the love.”

“Don’t take it personally, baby. I think dementia is setting in.”

“I’ll stop paying the bills and see how she likes me then,” Zeke groused.

Ginny stroked his thigh soothingly and turned the conversation to a safer subject.

“Have you two started picking out names yet?”

“Christ! She’s not even showing yet!” Crux said, nearly spitting out his beer.

“I’ve started thinking about it,” Kat admitted, drawing a surprised look from her husband and a giggle from her best friend.

“She hasn’t even lost her girlish figure, but I’ve lost my Chilton manuals.”

“Poor baby. I didn’t throw your precious mechanic manuals away. I moved them out of the spare bedroom and put them on a shelf in the garage,” Kat said, glancing at Ginny and muttering. “…with the other nasty, greasy things.”

“I heard that.”

“And yet, if I’d said his name …”

The timer sounded in the kitchen and the women giggled,

“Saved by the bell.”

As if by magic, all three boys appeared as the food came out of the oven.

“Are they trained like Pavlov’s dog?” Kat teased.

“Something like that. When I turn them loose it’s more like a swarm of locust.”

“Those two aren’t any better,” Kat laughed, watching Zeke and Crux push in with the boys to heap their plates full, playful elbows and hip checks thrown hard enough to knock lesser men on their ass.

Winking at Kat, Ginny filled their plates off the stove and the reserves still in the kitchen.

“I learned a long time ago, if I put it all out for the first wave I’ll starve to death.”

“You’re a wise woman, Gin. Teach me the wicked ways of the mama.”

“You have much to learn, young grasshopper.” Ginny giggled, leading her friend past the mob to find their seats on the patio.

Fresh from the shower Ginny didn’t bother with a nightgown as she sat down at the dressing table to brush her hair out. It had been a wonderful night. Kat always knew how to cheer her up. Spying Zeke in the mirror, the hairbrush froze in mid-stroke before clattering forgotten to the dressing table. Spinning, she jumped up and crossed the bedroom, her hands already reaching for the bandage wrapping her husband’s torso.

“What in the hell happened?” 

“I’m fine, Gin. The ER doctor who stitched me up reassured me I’d be just fine. It didn’t even nick the artwork.”

“Jesus, Zeke! How many stitches? What happened? Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you say something?” Ginny snapped, her voice rising on each question.

Catching her by the shoulders, Zeke forced Ginny to look him in the eye.

“Calm down, baby. This is why I didn’t call you. I wanted to be home when you found out so you could see with your own eyes that I am okay.”

Ginny took a deep breath, her voice calmer, but still tight when she spoke again.

“What happened?”

“A knife was missed in a pat down. There’s no major damage. The blade hit my ribcage and I got a decent gash, only thirty-six stitches.”

“Please tell me the moron wasn’t your new partner.’

“He was one of two scratched off the short list today.”

“And the other one?”

“I didn’t think my wife would approve of her low cut blouses and skin tight pants.”

“Good call.”

“I’m getting smarter in my old age.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Ginny asked softly, resting her cheek against his chest, her fingers trailing feather light down his sides.

“I’m fine, baby.”

“I suppose you haven’t taken anything for the pain.”

“They gave me some kick ass Tylenol at the hospital. I was getting ready to take another dose,” he said, shaking the pill bottle at her.

“Get in bed. I’ll get you some water.”

Knowing the futility of arguing with her, he peeled back the sheets and stretched out on the bed.

“You could’ve told me when you got home.”

“We had company.”

“It was Kat and Crux!”

“It’s still not the most pleasant choice for dinner conversation. Besides, you looked like you needed to unwind, not to be worrying about someone else.”

“When that someone else is my husband, it’s my job to worry.”

“And as your husband, it’s my job to protect you, even from you,” Zeke said firmly. When she didn’t come up with a quick comeback, he pulled her down on the bed. “So there. Now come to bed and take care of your injured husband.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to participate in any strenuous activity. You might pull out your stitches.”

“Who said anything about participating? I was just going to lay back and enjoy it,” he rumbled, reaching up to turn off the lights.   

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rhys’ brow furrowed as he read over the papers in his hand. Mox jostled him, leaning over his shoulder as he tried to make heads or tails of the documents compelling them to provide the Police Department with a DNA sample. He rubbed at the tension building in the back of his neck, wishing his dad were home, or even his mom. Having detectives show up on your doorstep put a serious damper on having the house to yourself. 

“What is this all about?”

“DNA collected at a crime scene came back a partial match to a known male relative of yours. That makes you a suspect. As explained in the subpoena, we are authorized to collect samples from all male family members for process of elimination. A simple cheek swab will clear you. It is a painless procedure that can be done on the spot if you have no objections. It takes only a moment of your time. We thought this would be preferable to going down to the precinct.”

“Does my dad know about this?”

“Your father has already provided a sample.”

“I’m okay with you swabbing my cheek, but my brother here is a minor. Maybe my mom or dad should be with him to consent,” Rhys said, curling the papers nervously in his hand.

“I understand your concern. It will just delay clearing this off the books, but you can have your mom or dad call us with a time that is good for them,” the detective agreed.

Rhys sighed, glancing in question at Mox who just shrugged.

“Fine, let’s just all get it over with so we can get back to the baseball game.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Brawer. Open wide,” the detective said, opening a sample tube and swabbing Rhys’ cheek.

Questions swirled in Rhys’ mind as he watched the detectives return to their car.  He had no idea how DNA worked. By male relative, were they referring to father, brother, son or uncles? They’d taken a sample from his dad so it must be his side of the family. As far as he knew he didn’t have any living relatives on his father’s side. His dad didn’t even know who his father had been. A roar from the television pulled him from his thoughts. Closing the front door, he jumped over the back of the couch in time to watch the replay. 

“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Zeke asked tossing the subpoena on Donavan’s desk.

“You bled all over the Well’s crime scene. It came up with a hit in a string of rapes.”

Not a trace of humor colored Zeke’s chuckle.

“If you check the scumbag’s file, one of the women raped was Margaret Brawer, my mother.”  He shook his head, running a weary hand over the back of his bowed neck. “Did anyone bother to read the files? Why the hell didn’t someone come and talk to me before they showed up on my doorstep harassing my kids?”

“We thought it preferable to dragging them into the precinct. It might have been helpful if something like that was in your file.”

“Did someone bother to read it?”

“Don’t get smart, Zeke. How the hell is that little fact not in your service file?”

“When they asked for my father’s name I put down, ‘unknown.’ It’s the truth. If I knew who the son-of-a-bitch was I would’ve killed him a long time ago.”

“You realize that Kramer will try to use this to show motive in the Porter shooting.”

“As far up my ass as Kramer’s been I would be very surprised if the little prick doesn’t already know about my mother being raped. He’s been hounding everyone in Trinity Falls with questions and my parentage is no secret there. Besides, the Chief ordered the pissant to drop the investigation. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to come back, if you will recall.”

“You don’t think something like this is going to have him taking another look?” Donovan sighed. “I will do what I can with the Chief, but that kind of omission in your file doesn’t look good, Zeke.”

“Do what you have to do, Dave, but I’m warning you now, my patience is wearing thin with this prick coming after my family.”

“Miles Sampson is Zeke’s biological son.”

Ginny nearly ripped the papers out of the asshole’s hand. Her heart thundered in her ears making it difficult to concentrate on the pretty little charts before her eyes. As clearly as Rhys’ DNA matched Zeke’s, so did Mox’s. Stomach pitching dangerously, she covered her lips with tremulous fingers. Reaching for a chair, she sat, not taking her eyes from the results. Her mind spun as her heart slowly cracked.

“Along the same lines, Mrs. Brawer, while your husband may not be the rapist, he is directly related,” Kramer sneered, slapping another set of charts down on the table in front of her.

“Meg Brawer was raped resulting in pregnancy and Zeke. That’s old news. It just stands to reason that the animal would rape again,” Ginny said, willing her voice to be steady. 

“I don’t understand,” Mox said, eyes darting between Ginny and Zeke.

Zeke sloughed a hand down his face, looking like he had been sucker punched. Features blank, his pale eyes beseeched his wife for support.