DEAD BY WEDNESDAY (6 page)

“Neither,” Robert said, brushing off the question. “The pie looks good.” He opened his container and dug in.

Sawyer stared at him, then very deliberately reached over and flipped the lid shut on the plastic container. “Damn. Please, please, tell me that you are not smiling over Carmen Jimenez. I know we all had some good pizza together and that you were helpful at the coffee shop and that she made you dinner as a thank-you. But Robert, it does not have to go beyond that. Really, it doesn’t.”

It was the longest spiel that he’d heard come out of Sawyer Montgomery’s mouth.

And he would not lie to his friend. Was not above evading the truth, but would not lie.

“I’m taking Carmen and Raoul out to dinner tonight.”

Sawyer pointed a finger in his face. “I swear to God, Robert Hanson. If you screw up and hurt Carmen and that makes Liz even just a little bit sad, you and I are taking it outside.”

Robert smiled. “It’s too cold outside for a Southern boy like you to want to fight. You’ll get snow down your pants.”

“I mean it, Robert.” Sawyer leaned close. “Carmen is a very nice person.”

And while his own smile didn’t fade, it hurt just a little. “And I’m Jack the Ripper?”

“Of course not,” Sawyer said. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my daughter’s godfather. I’d trust you with her life. But I don’t know if you and Carmen want the same thing.”

“I think we both want to have dinner,” Robert said. “It’s no big deal. She’s worried about Raoul.”

Sawyer nodded. “Liz told me something about that. I’ve met him. Quiet but polite. He likes video games and one time I saw him eat about half a chocolate cake. That was after he’d wolfed down four tacos. I think he’s just a normal adolescent boy.”

“I agree. But Carmen is concerned. I said I’d make a few inquiries with the cop at Mahoney High. And I said that I’d try to get to know Raoul a little better. You’re worrying about nothing, Sawyer. Now get your ugly hands off my pie.”

Chapter Six

Raoul walked down the empty hallway, his trombone case bumping his leg with each step. Man, he’d be glad when the winter concert was over. His band teacher might just blow a gasket before that happened. Tonight, he’d actually taken a set of drums away from the kid who stood next to Jacob.

He was starving. Lunch had been seven hours earlier. Most of the time, he got some food out of the vending machines before practice started. Today, he’d been pulling his money out of his pocket when trouble had stepped around the corner.

He’d looked around but it was only him and JJ and Beau. He wasn’t sure what JJ’s real name was because everybody just called him JJ. He and Beau were both juniors and Raoul hated them. They’d been pretty much making his life difficult since football had ended in November and they’d suddenly had too much free time.

Beau had held out his hand and Raoul had dropped the dollar bills into it. It wasn’t the first time they’d ripped him off. He’d thought about telling somebody but they’d already told him that they’d beat the crap out of him if he did that.

He believed them. They could probably bench-press his weight without breaking a sweat. He hadn’t even told Jacob and he usually told Jacob everything.

It was just too embarrassing.

He’d gone to band practice hungry and been so angry that he hadn’t even been able to stay with the music. He was looking forward to the brownies left from dinner the night before.

Raoul turned the corner and almost bumped into JJ and Beau. He veered to the left, hoping to get around them. Twice in one day was too much.

Beau stepped directly in front of him. “Where you going, band boy?”

Raoul didn’t answer. He took a side step. “I don’t have any more money,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

“That’s not band boy, that’s Limpy.” JJ lounged against the locker and laughed at his own joke. “That’s your name, right?”

Raoul wanted to pound their stupid faces into the wall. But he knew if he tried, they’d kill him first. So he didn’t say a word. He just stood there and took it.

“I saw you get dropped off for school this morning,” Beau said. “Somebody told me that’s your sister. She is hot, sizzling hot.” He touched the gray lockers with his index finger and made a sizzling noise. “I’d like to do her.”

“Shut up,” Raoul said.

“Maybe we could both do her,” JJ said, “at the same time.”

The two of them laughed like they were the funniest things on earth. “Stay away from my sister,” Raoul said.

“Oooh,” Beau said, pretending to be frightened. “Like we care what you tell us to do.” He grabbed Raoul’s trombone case and threw it, sending it end-over-end down the hallway. It banged against the metal lockers. “Go get it.”

He took a step, trying to walk around Beau. JJ stepped away from the lockers, reached out, put his hand on Raoul’s shoulder and pushed down.

“Crawl.”

Beau laughed. “Yeah, on your hands and knees. Like a dog. A scrawny pup from the pound.”

Raoul thought about running in the other direction. But what would he tell Carmen about his trombone? She wasn’t going to believe that he’d forgotten it somewhere. And if she knew these kids were hassling him, she’d be in the office, demanding that something be done.

Then it would get worse.

Raoul dropped to his knees. Then like a stupid baby, he started crawling. His backpack felt heavy and awkward and the floor hurt his knees. He could hear Beau and JJ laughing. He didn’t look back until he reached his case. When he did, they were gone.

He couldn’t breathe. He freakin’ couldn’t breathe.

He tried to stand up but he couldn’t. With his back against the lockers, he slid down to the floor.

And then he started to cry.

And he hated more than he’d ever hated before.

He finally picked himself up off the floor and left the school. He got on his regular bus, rode for thirty minutes, and got off at his stop, which was three blocks from his house. He hadn’t walked more than fifteen feet when the man claiming to be Hector’s friend approached from behind and started walking next to him. “You’re late today,” the man said. It was so cold that his words came out in a puff of steam.

Raoul didn’t answer. He didn’t feel like talking to anybody. He walked faster.

The man kept pace. “I’ve got something of Hector’s that he wanted you to have,” he said.

That got Raoul’s attention. There was nothing of Hector’s at their apartment, except for a couple of pictures that had Hector in them. “What?”

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” the man said. “Give me your number and I’ll text you later and let you know where you can meet me.”

Raoul considered the suggestion. It wouldn’t hurt to give the man his number. If he decided he didn’t want to go, he’d just ignore it. He rattled it off and the man entered it into his own cell phone.

“I still don’t know your name,” Raoul said.

“Apollo,” he said. “Just call me Apollo. I’ll be in touch.”

* * *

A
T
TEN
MINUTES
after six, Robert pulled up in front of his mom’s pale yellow house. It was a nice two-bedroom, two-bath Cape Cod in a neighborhood that had been predominantly Polish at one time.

She wasn’t Polish. But she’d fallen in love with the house four years ago after her fifth marriage ended and she’d needed a place to live. Robert had bought it for her.

At least this time she wouldn’t have to move. Norman had moved in with her.

His mom greeted him with a kiss on his cheek and pulled him into the house. It smelled like vanilla and he could see candles burning on the mantel of the fake fireplace.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Normie has a girlfriend, someone he met at last year’s Flower and Garden Show. They’re moving to Florida. I’m being dumped for a longer growing season,” she added.

He smiled, knowing that’s what she expected. Wanted. Humor, even at her own expense, had always been his mother’s fallback position.

“You going to be okay?” he asked.

“Oh, sure,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. At sixty-seven, her face was showing the signs of age.

“What are your plans for tonight?” he asked. He hated the idea of canceling on Carmen, but he couldn’t leave his mom crying at her kitchen table.

“Bingo at the church,” she said. “I’m going with my friend Margie.”

“You don’t play bingo,” he said.

She sucked in a big breath. “I do now. Margie says there’s a group of retired gentlemen there, most of them widowers.”

“Good Lord, Mom. Has Norman even moved his things out?”

“This afternoon. I helped him pack his truck.” With the palm of her hands, she smoothed down her shirt. “At my age, you can’t wait around forever. And they only play bingo twice a month.”

Rebound bingo. At least he didn’t have to give her the lecture about practicing safe bingo.

He stood up, pushed his chair in and kissed his mother’s cheek. Ten years ago, he’d have tried to convince her that it wasn’t wise to jump from the frying pan into the fire. That was two husbands ago. “Call me if you need anything,” he said.

It only took him fifteen minutes to get to Carmen’s apartment. At twenty minutes before seven, he parked down the block. He left his car running, knowing that the temperature inside would drop in minutes if he killed the engine.

He closed his eyes and tried to block out the last half hour. It didn’t work.

He had a bad gene pool. Maybe Sawyer was right to be worried about Carmen. What was it that he’d said?
Not sure Carmen and you want the same thing.

What did he want from Carmen?

He wanted to kiss her again. That was a given. He’d managed to keep from blurting that out, thankfully.

He wanted more, though. To hear her laugh. And watch her move around her kitchen in a tight black skirt with a towel tossed over one shoulder. To see her eyes, content with pride, when she watched her brother shovel in his spaghetti.

None of that spelled danger for Ms. Jimenez. Sawyer was worried about nothing.

Robert checked his watch and decided to wait another five minutes. He didn’t want to appear overanxious, yet he wanted to be prompt.

That was respectful.

Sawyer would be proud.

At seven minutes before seven, Robert pulled into a parking space in front of Carmen’s building. He opened the main door of the three-story building and walked up the stairs to the second floor. Then, as he had the night before, he knocked on the door.

Carmen opened it. She wore a high-necked, long-sleeved cream-colored sweater and matching slacks. She’d left her dark hair down and it fell over her shoulders to midback.

She looked fabulous.

And she smelled even better. Something spicy that hinted that there was more to Carmen than met the eye.

Or was that wishful thinking on his part?

“Hi,” he said. “You look nice.”

She blushed. “I wasn’t sure where we’d be going.”

“Maxine’s.”

She frowned. “That’s expensive, isn’t it?”

He waved a hand. “They’re running a winter special,” he said. “Where’s Raoul?”

“In his room. I’ll get him. Excuse me,” she said.

Robert stood near the door. He could see the cat. She was scrunched under the couch, watching him. “I’m not here to steal the silverware, Lucy,” he said, trying to sound friendly.

No response from the cat.

He could hear the murmur of voices from the back room. They went on. And on. And he was just about to barge down the hall and fix whatever needed to be fixed when Carmen appeared.

“Raoul is sick,” she said. “He thinks it’s something he ate for lunch.”

Okay. Plan B. “No problem. We can order in,” Robert said.

The words were no more out of his mouth when Raoul appeared behind his sister. He was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and his hair was sticking straight up on his head.

“I told you, sis. I want you to go. I’m not three. I can take care of myself. You deserve to have a nice dinner.”

Robert could see the indecision in Carmen’s eyes. He kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to take the chance of reminding her that the dinner invitation had been about the three of them bonding.

“You’re sure?” Carmen asked.

Raoul rolled his eyes.

“I’ll bring you back some chicken noodle soup,” she said.

“Fine.” He turned and went back into his room.

Robert worked hard to keep the smile off his face. “He probably just wants to get some sleep.”

Carmen grabbed her bright blue cape from the closet. She stuffed her hands into dark gloves. “I know that I need to treat him more like an adult. It makes him crazy when I baby him. It’s just that I’ve been taking care of him forever,” she said, her voice quiet.

“You have been. And you’ve done a great job. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the story behind Raoul’s leg?”

“He’s had it from birth. It’s actually a problem with his hip but it looks as if his legs are not the same.”

“Doesn’t look as if it slows him down much.” Robert wrapped an arm loosely around her shoulder. “Give him some space. It’ll be fine.”

They had barely pulled away from Carmen’s apartment building when she dug her feet in. “If we go to Maxine’s, I want to pay my half.”

Robert counted to ten. “That’s not necessary.”

“Yes, I insist. I wouldn’t be comfortable any other way.”

Well, hell. She’d been right earlier. Maxine’s could get a little pricey. There was no way that he was imposing that kind of expense on her budget. He had some idea of what social-worker types made and he doubted there was much left at the end of the month.

“Maybe we could go somewhere else?” he suggested.

“Gordon’s is close. I love their soup.”

He made a quick right. Gordon’s had been a neighborhood favorite for years. It had a tile floor, worn booths, surly waitresses and great comfort food. Sometimes he and Sawyer had lunch there.

It wouldn’t break anybody’s budget. “Whatever floats your boat,” Robert said easily. He found a seat as far away from the door as possible, knowing that every time the door opened, cold air would blow in. They read the plastic-covered menu, and then he ordered the meat loaf special, and Carmen got a turkey club with broccoli soup.

There was a young couple in the corner with a squealing baby. An old couple was in the next booth, both reading sections of the newspaper. A young black man, wearing a white apron that came to his knees, was unloading clean glasses and cups onto the shelves.

He’d never brought a woman to Gordon’s before. Never even considered it. The women he dated were generally successful in their own careers, had discretionary spending and expected him to have the same.

Both Mandy and Janine would have been severely disappointed in Gordon’s.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

He hadn’t realized that he was smiling. “Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking that Sawyer will be jealous. He loves the hot beef sandwiches here.”

She glanced around. “I imagine it’s not your usual place for dinner.”

There was an underlying message in her simple words. It went sort of like this.
I realize you had something different in mind, but this place is really more me, which is just one more sign of how different we are.

She wasn’t the only one who had studied human behavior in college.

“I think I’m ready for the unusual,” he said.

Her dark eyes widened. But at that moment, the waitress returned, slapped their food down and refilled their water glasses. Carmen picked up her turkey sandwich and chewed. She looked very thoughtful.

Robert dug into his meat loaf. It was delicious. And the potatoes were equally good. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Finally, she pushed her plate away. She’d eaten her soup and most of her sandwich.

“I should be getting back,” she said.

He nodded and motioned for the waitress. He ordered a large chicken noodle soup to go. Carmen unzipped her purse and started pulling out money.

“Please,” he said. “It’s on me. Consider it payback for the spaghetti, although I certainly got the better end of the deal.”