Colorado 03 Lady Luck (54 page)

“Right,” I whispered, sucked in more breath
then went on. “I accidentally opened your mail and what I
accidentally opened was a handwritten letter from Misty Keaton that
lays it out that she lied about not being your alibi.”

Silence. A very long silence. A very long,
very
heavy
silence.

So I called, “Ty?”

“You’re shittin’ me.” That was a
whisper.

“No,” I whispered back.

“You’re shittin’ me,” he repeated.

“No, honey.” I kept whispering. “Do you want
me to read it to you?”

“Yeah.”

I picked it up, my hand still slightly
shaking and I read it to him.

My hand dropped to the counter when I was
done and he murmured, “Shit.”

“You okay?” I asked.

“Fuck,” he murmured in answer.

“That’s not an answer, honey,” I said
gently.

Silence.

“Ty? Honey, talk to me.”

“Right now, Lexie, take that upstairs and
put it in the safe.”

I grabbed the envelope with the letter and
immediately started walking to the stairs saying, “I don’t know the
combination.”

“Twenty-four, fourteen, thirty-three,
sixty-seven.”

“Um… is there a bunch of right and left
rolling with that?”

“Mama, it’s a keypad.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Twenty-four, as in, two then four, then hit
the enter key, one then four, enter key and three then three, enter
then six then seven, enter and open. You with me?”

“I think I can negotiate a keypad, honey
lumpkins, but my locker at school you had to do all this winding
around, back and forth and eventually I had to learn how to pop it
because I could never get the fucking thing open.”

“This isn’t your locker at school. It’s a
fucking expensive fireproof safe with a keypad.”

“Whatever,” I muttered then said, “I’m here,
hang on.” I squatted, punched in the numbers then turned the handle
and it opened. I put the letter in on top of Ty’s wads of cash, his
gun, clips, ammo, the envelope with our marriage certificate and my
boxes of diamonds then I closed the safe. “It’s there.”

“Good, baby. Gonna call Tate and see how to
play this. Obviously, I can’t waltz into the Carnal Police Station
so it needs to be safe until I know what to do with it.”

“She said she sent other stuff.”

“Well, I’m not feelin’ like waitin’ while
that shit processes it’s way to someone who’s gonna pull their
thumb outta their ass and turn the wheels of justice so my name is
cleared. I’m a priority to me. She sent that shit in the mail, who
knows what the fuck’s gonna happen to it but whoever reads it isn’t
gonna know who the fuck I am and since they don’t know, they aren’t
gonna care as much as me.”

I grinned into the phone and muttered, “I
see your point.” I listened to his soft laughter then asked, “Do
you think this will do it?”

“Don’t know.”

“I think we should send a copy to Angel,” I
suggested.

“Definitely one of the plays we need to
make. But I wanna talk to Tate and I want him to have a look at it.
Sit tight, mama, I’ll call you.”

“I was going to go to the grocery store and,
um… other stuff.” I didn’t elaborate because I was thinking Ty was
not in the mood for a paint chip and new curtain discussion. “Do
you need me to stay at home or close to town, just in case?”

“Close to town but you don’t gotta stay
home. Do what you gotta do in town. The other stuff can hold.
Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything and he also didn’t
disconnect.

So I sat on my ass in the closet and asked
quietly, “You okay?”

“This could be it.”

“Yeah, baby, this could be it,” I
whispered.

“Toxic pussy knew her number was up, spurred
her finally to do right. Took that to finally make that bitch do
right. Still, she did right. So I guess I can lose that sour taste
in my mouth every time I remember I slid my cock inside her.”

“Another bonus,” I muttered and heard him
chuckle.

“And she’s dead and I’m alive and breathin’
and able to slide my cock inside you.”

That got a couple of tingles but I ignored
them and on another mutter said, “A bigger bonus.”

“Got that right, mama.”

I smiled at the phone.

Then I ordered, “Go, call Tate, let’s get
the wheels of justice turning to clear my man’s name.”

“Right. Later, babe.”

“Later, honey.”

I heard him disconnect and I stared at the
safe.

Then I got off my ass and hustled out of the
closet, the bedroom and the house. I had groceries to buy, dessert
to procure and then I had to get home so I could be available to
get the wheels of justice turning to clear my man’s name.

* * * * *

The Charger growled through the development
and I was riding high on a day that included the delivery of
kickass Team Walker tees, a letter from beyond the grave from
bitch-face Misty that exonerated my husband, the discovery and
purchase of two bottles of not-cheap champagne I found at the
liquor store and the fact that Shambles had an entire lemon poppy
seed cake with drizzle icing and a thick layer of lemon cream
frosting in the middle that I could buy to end the fucking
fantastic celebration dinner I had planned.

So I did, I bought the whole cake.

But as I neared our house, I saw a beat up,
rusted, old model SUV in our drive and leaning against the side
sucking on a cigarette was a petite, older, white woman with
shoulder-length hair that had a lot of frizz. At the end of the SUV
and out in the street, for some reason staring up the hill into the
wood, his back to me, was a very large, very tall black man.

Hearing my approach, he turned to face the
Charger and I noticed he was older too though he only had a hint of
white in his hair to indicate this and didn’t look near as old as
the woman.

He also looked a lot like Ty.

Shit.

I pulled in beside them in the drive,
feeling their eyes on me the entire time I parked, switched off my
new baby, pulled out the keys and folded out of the car.

“Hey,” I greeted as I rounded the trunk,
seeing they were still where they were when I drove up, woman
against the SUV, man at the end. Firm distance between them.

He was still handsome, very. She was not.
The skin on her face was hanging down in a weird way, lots of
wrinkles and they looked like ripples of sags. The bottom lids of
her eyes drooped a bit, exposing some pink. She needed an emergency
visit to Dominic’s spa and not just for a facial. Her hair had a
bad dye job and she’d chosen a weird shade of light brown that
wasn’t all that attractive.

As I came to a stop on their side of my car,
they were still staring at me but neither of them spoke.

I broke the silence. “Um, I’m guessing
you’re Ty’s parents?”

The woman didn’t take her eyes off me when
she sneered, “She’s guessin’ we’re Tyrell’s parents.”

Hmm. Seemed Ty’s Mom hadn’t softened with
age.

She went on, “Two white girls hitched to
black men in this county. Me with him,” she jerked her head to the
man who was still hanging out at the end of the SUV, “and you and
the black half of my son.”

The black half of my son.

I wasn’t really sure I liked how she put
that.

“Well, um… I’m glad to meet you,” I said
quietly.

“
Well, um…” she parroted sarcastically then
she leaned in, “you were glad to meet me, you wouldn’t a’ been in
town with my boy for months without meetin’ me.”

I didn’t know what to do with this. Ty
talked about them but all in the past. I let him talk and my
questions were few as they always were, allowing him to share at
his pace and not pushing. I didn’t actually know they still lived
close.

Of course I couldn’t tell her that.

“We’ve been kinda busy.” And that wasn’t a
lie.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Too busy to meet your
man’s parents?”

“Well –” I started but she cut me off.

Looking me up and down, she said, “’Spect
he hasn’t met
your
parents
either and ‘spect it’s not for the same reason we haven’t met
you.”

I read her inference and this was because it
was hard to miss.

“
Actually, my parents are both deceased so
it would be difficult for Ty to meet them but if they weren’t
and
I’d
actually met
them before they died, which I didn’t, then he would
have.”

Okay, so I was getting mad. I could feel the
sass rising in me and I was trying hard not to throw it but
unfortunately not succeeding.

At this point, Ty’s father moved
forward.

“I’m Irving Walker. Irv,” he told me as he
got close then his hand extended.

I tipped my head back to look at him and saw
he wore an expression that held some curiosity, some uncertainty
and not a small amount of cautious warmth.

Therefore I took his hand, squeezed it and
introduced myself, “Alexa. Alexa Walker. Everyone calls me
Lexie.”

He smiled and his smile was near as
beautiful as his son’s.

Then he released my hand and jerked his head
down and to the side to indicate the woman.

“This is Ty’s Ma, Reece.”

I looked to her, decided to make an attempt
at civility and extended my hand. “Hello, Reece.”

She held my eyes then hers dropped to my
hand then they came back to mine. Then she lifted her cigarette to
her mouth, wrapped her lips around it in a weird way where it
looked like half the tip was between her lips, she sucked deep and
all her sags contracted in a highly unattractive way then she let
the cigarette go on a sucking noise and blew out an enormous plume
of smoke. It was so enormous I dropped my hand and took a step away
so as not to get caught in its fog. Surprisingly, so did Irv.

“Reece,” he muttered, sounding pissed then,
“Jesus.”

Her eyes shot up to him and she snapped,
“What? Look at this shit.” Then she swung an arm out indicating me
but that arm flew wide indicating, I guessed, everything in our
local vicinity. She dropped her arm, leaned toward Irv and hissed,
“
Look at
this shit.
”

I did not like being referred to as shit or
the home my husband provided for me being included in that and I
felt my eyes narrow as my control on my sass slipped a hefty
notch.

Reece wasn’t done. “My eyes don’t deceive
me, those wheels are brand new. Though, my eyes
could
be deceivin’ me since I’m blinded by the
fuckin’
rocks
she’s
wearin’ on her fuckin’
finger.
Now tell me, how does my idiot son go down for some
bullshit crime probably some white man committed then he gets outta
prison, hooks himself a class act like this bitch, puts that
fuckin’
rock
on
her
finger
, her ass
in a brand new set of wheels, keeps his fancy-assed condo, gets his
job back that pays him near to sixty fuckin’ grand a year and, all
that, he’s got no time for his Momma. He’s got no time for his
Daddy. He’s got all that, he don’t share the love with the two
people responsible for him breathin’ on this earth.”

There was a lot there to get pissed at, a
lot that deserved some sass thrown, my control snapped and I was
going to throw it.

And I opened my mouth to do that but Irv got
there before me.

“
Weeks, woman, I watched you work yourself
up to this shit,
fuck,
” he
growled the last word then turned to me. “Knocked her up
thirty-seven years ago. Biggest mistake in my life. Keep makin’
‘em. She tells me she wants to go see her baby, time has come, here
we are. She don’t wanna see her baby. She’s pissed like she’s
always pissed and like always, I got no clue
why
she’s pissed. Her son is home, he’s married to a
beautiful woman, he’s gettin’ his life back and she’s pissed. What
the fuck?”

I had no answer to his question but even if
I did, I had no shot at answering it, Reece spoke.

“
What the fuck,
Irv
, is that I get here and I see all this.” She
again flung her arm out, multitasking by flicking the cigarette in
her other hand between Irv and me into the street. “Same old shit.
Same as always.” Her droopy eyes came to me. “This one,” she jerked
her head to Irv, “served me a lifetime of a whole lotta nothin’. My
boy, though,
he
knows how to
get himself somethin’. Does he share?
No.
God, he gets outta prison and
still
he’s got ways to get himself somethin’ and
still
he does not share.”

Irv probably opened his mouth to retort but
I was done.

And I communicated this by locking eyes with
Ty’s mother and throwing some serious fucking sass.

“
Go home,” I ordered and went on without
giving either of them an opening. “And don’t come back. I don’t
know you but I
do
know you
taught your son to make certain he took his dirty dishes to the
sink by throwing a glass at him and giving him a scar. Ty’s lucky,
he’s hot and that scar, admittedly, makes him hotter but
he’s
not
lucky he’s
got a mother who’d risk blinding her son in one eye because she’s a
lunatic with a bad attitude who would throw a glass at a nine year
old child and then, years later, after he endured a nightmare, not
appear at his door with open arms and a welcome home bouquet but
months later show up at his house for the sole purpose of behaving
like a bitter shrew and expressing her whacked opinion that she
thinks her son owes her shit. My husband does not owe you shit, he
does not owe giving you what he’s worked hard to earn, he does not
owe you his time, he does not owe you one fucking
thing.
Now go home and do
not
come back.”