Faith, Honor & Freedom (10 page)

What the fuck am I thinking?
If my hand stays where it is, I’m going to end up shooting to kill if I see him anywhere near her. I push her door open slightly, and watch as the half-naked prick unclasps Lana’s bra and frees those perfectly round tits. I’m momentarily stunned as I stare at her beautiful pink, puckered nipples. I shake my head, trying to get the image out of my mind when I notice Alec staring back at me with a smug grin on his fucking face. He sinks his teeth into her collarbone and she cries out in pain, pushing herself into him.

Her cry snaps me back to reality, and I charge at him, ripping her from his arms and smashing my fist into his face. The fucker didn’t even try to stop me—just kept that foul fucking smirk on his face.

“Hoss, what the hell are you doing?” Lana screeches, covering her tits.

“I should ask you the same question,” I say, seething. I know in the back of my mind I’m being completely unreasonable, but it doesn’t stop the rage I’m feeling. I’m jealous as hell, but more than that, I’m angry she was with
that
asshole, in particular.

“I’m in my own house! Get out, Hoss! Get out!” she yells, waggling her finger at me like she’s scolding a child. I move and grab her shirt off the floor, tossing it to her. She moves a hand to catch it, and as much I try not to look, I’m a glutton for punishment. I watch as her hand frees those tits to grab the shirt.
God, I am such a fucking dick.

I ignore her request and instead order, “Put that on.”

She huffs but luckily turns around, so her back is facing the both of us as she slips the shirt over her head. I look over to Alec, who even with a bloody lip, is still grinning.

“What the fuck are you smiling at?”

He pulls Lana into his chest. “I think she asked you to leave,” he says arrogantly.

I try and rein in the fury I feel, to keep myself from beating his fucking self-righteous face in again. I ignore his comment, looking to Lana instead.

“Lana, put your bra on, and get in the truck,” I demand.

“Hoss, aside from the fact that I told you I wasn’t ready, I’m not going anywhere with you. Ever! I’ll call Mom. Seriously, just leave!” she huffs.

It breaks my fucking heart to watch her climb into his arms, and push me away, but this isn’t even about us right now. I came here on business.
Sort of.

“Lana, it’s about Jenny. I need you to come with me.”

I watch as her shoulders drop, and she loses the tough girl attitude. “What about Jenny?”

“We’ve narrowed down a few suspects. I need you to come in and look at a few photos, see if you recognize them from the neighborhood.”

“Oh,” she says quietly.

“I’ll drive her,” Alec says possessively.

“Like fuck you will. Official police business. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” I say, pulling out my badge just to be a prick. Yeah, it might not make me more of a man than anyone else, but I want to make a point to this asshole. If he fucks with Lana, he fucks with the whole police department.

“Jesus Hoss,” she says, scooping her bra up off the floor. “Put that thing away, and go wait in the living room. I’ll be out in a minute,” she says, walking into her bathroom.

“You heard the lady,” Alec says with a smirk.

“I’m watching you; don’t ever forget that,” I growl.

“I’m counting on it,
Officer.”

“That’s detective to you, prick.” I turn away from him, unable to be in the same room any longer without physically harming him … again. I pace the floors in her living room before they emerge from her bedroom. I scowl at the memory of the two of them tangled around each other. That should have been me.

Lana slips on her shoes and turns back toward Alec. “Thanks for everything. I’ll you see you tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says, attempting to seduce her. I scowl at his effort. He pulls her in for a kiss, and I clench my fists together.

“Let’s go Lana,” I command, opening her front door and holding for her. She pulls away from him, rolls her eyes at me, and rushes outside. I don’t give a shit if she’s mad at me; I just need her as far away from him as I can manage right now.

I turn back to Alec. “Get out.”

He laughs, “I’ll leave, but just remember whose name she’ll be screaming out tomorrow while your pathetic dick cries for her,” he scoffs and walks through the door.

I ball my fist and move to smash it into the wall, but manage to stop in time. Last thing I need Lana to think is that I have anger issues, as true as it might be. She can forgive one hole in the wall, but two might take some convincing.

We pull up in front of the station after what seemed like a long drive over. The tension is palpable, and I know I need to speak with her before we go inside.

“I’m sorry …” I start, but Lana cuts me off.

“I’m sick and tired of your apologies, Hoss. You can’t just do whatever the hell you want and then apologize. It doesn’t work that way. I asked you to stay out of my relationship! I refuse to talk about this anymore. I’m here for Jenny, and Jenny only,” she says, opening the door and jumping out of my truck.

I slam my fist down on the wheel.
Fucking hell.
I wish Rhett were here, so he could be the bad guy. I take that back. I wish Rhett were here, so I’d have my best friend back. I’d gladly take being the bad guy to have him here. Maybe then I could change his mind about Lana, too. I’ve come a long way since high school, and even since he’s died. I take a deep breath, jump out of my truck, and follow an eager Lana into the station.

We go through a few dozen photos of known sex offenders in the area. None of them stand out, and I know that means something with Lana. She never forgets a face. She’s civil during the interview, but I know it’s just because a fellow officer, Henry, is in the interview room with us. After saying hello to half the force, we finally jump back in the truck, and once again, awkwardly make our way to her mom’s house. Thank God it was too late for her to cancel.

“Lana, Weston, so good to see you both,” Mrs. Carter says, greeting us both at the door. “Come on in.”

Mrs. Carter is an older version of Lana—dark black hair, petite, and full of life. She was just as much a mom to me growing up as my own mother was, and I love her just the same. Lana steps in first, and I follow after her into their tiny entryway where my nose is assaulted with one of the best smells in the world: chili and cornbread. Lana’s a great cook when I can get her to cook for me, but nobody can beat out Mrs. Carter.

“You shouldn’t have,” I jest, grinning.

“Oh, nonsense! It’s been your favorite since you were no higher than my knees. Of course I would make it. I have to pull out all my big tricks to get you guys to come have dinner with us now,” she says with a smile. “And stop calling me Mrs. Carter, it makes me feel old, and the only reason I’d want to feel old is if Lana here finally made me a grandmother,” she says, giving a look to Lana. My stomach ties in knots as I think of some other man planting his babies inside of her. I also know her seemingly harmless pokes do have an effect on Lana, although she would never tell her mother that.

I let it go, and pull her into a genuine hug. I probably spent more time in this house growing up than I did at home. “Sorry Tanya, is Steve in the living room?” I ask, for the sake of politeness. There’s an Oakland game on, and I know that he wouldn’t miss it for anything.

“You know he is, go on in. Lana needs to come help me set the table. I look over at Lana, trying to gauge how pissed off she still is. Judging by the way she still refuses to meet my eyes, I’m going to say things aren’t looking too good for me.

I turn and walk down the hall and to my left, entering their quaint living room. An old blue, comfy couch lines one wall, and a blue recliner, where Steve sits, hunched forward, lines the other. It must be a good game tonight. The TV is on the far wall, and fortunately for Steve, it looks like the A’s are in the lead.

“Hey Steve, looks like a good game,” I say in greeting. Steve is nearing his sixties now, but aside from a few grays, you’d never know it. His piercing light blue eyes always haunted me after Rhett died. He was a spitting image of his old man, and to see what he would have looked like after living a good life has always been a stab in the chest.

“Oh, they’re playing well tonight. It’s definitely our year this year!” he says excitedly, and I have to laugh. He says it every year, win or lose. If there’s one word to describe Steve, it’s loyal, and that doesn’t pertain to only baseball.

“Good to hear, Steve.” I’m more of a football type of guy; I like the action and the aggression more than anything, but I’d never tell Steve that. I’ve always wanted his respect.

“So, how’s it been going son? Any break in the serial killer case?” he asks. He knows I’m not supposed to give him any more information than I give the general public now that he’s retired, but he somehow always manages to coax more out of me.

“Not much—we’re still searching Jenny’s house, interviewing neighbors, and getting alibis from convicted sex offenders in the area. His last job was rushed, so hopefully we’ll be able to use something we found.”

“That’s too bad. Hopefully the lab finds something,” he says, and I nod. He turns his attention back to the game for a minute as a loud eruption of applause blares through the television’s speaker. “Damn it, get it together boys.”

“Do you want another beer, Steve?” I’d love a drink of something stronger, but I know they don’t keep any hard liquor in the house. Mostly, I just want an excuse to go see Lana.

“Sure, sure,” he says, eyes still glued to the screen. I rise and walk toward the kitchen, but stop when I hear Lana speak my name.

“… Weston is a nice guy, Mom, but I’m just not interested.” Well if that isn’t a punch to the fucking gut, I don’t know what is. But what did her mom say that prompted that?

“Oh honey, you just haven’t given him a chance.”

“Mom, enough okay? I’m seeing someone, and he’s pretty great. I think you’d like him; he owns a construction company.”

“You bring him by the house. We’d like to meet him and be the judge of that ourselves, yeah?”

“Yeah Mom.”

I use the break in chatter to make my presence known and enter the kitchen. It’s dated, but hell, you could lick the floors in here it’s so clean. Tanya has always kept up an impeccable home, and they have both always been modest people. They choose to spend their money on a good time, rather than material possessions.

“Weston, what can I get you?” Tanya asks me.

“Two beers, if you don’t mind,” I say, glancing over to Lana, as her mom walks to the fridge. She looks back at me with a mixture of pain and anger on her face, and I have to wonder what they were talking about that I missed. I give her a small smile, and she returns a forced one.

“So what are you doing tonight?” I ask Lana, as I pull out of her parents’ driveway. Her mom’s cooking was excellent, as always, and the conversation that flowed was light. Violet called during dinner and said that Gavin wouldn’t take a bottle, so she had to stay with him for the night. Lana felt absolutely horrid. Violet hasn’t been sleeping very well, and I guess Lana had wanted to help her out. Lana and her mom drove up to the hospital to bring them supper while Steve and I watched the end of the game.

“Well, I am still thinking of going up and staying with Violet—maybe I can help somehow.”

“I’m not sure there will be any room on the single cot Vi and Jack already share,” I joke.

“I know. I just feel terrible. She doesn’t deserve this. She looked so sad when we stopped by.”

“No, you’re right; she doesn’t deserve that, and neither does he,” I say, pulling onto her street. “Look, why don’t you grab some clothes and come over. I don’t like the idea of you in that house alone. Not when that psychopath is still out there.” While that’s the main reason I want her at my house, fuck me, but the thought of her in my bed again makes me a happy man.

“I don’t know,” she says, staring out the window as we drive past Jenny’s house.

“You know Rhett would have my head if I didn’t make sure you were safe.” I know it’s a low blow, but it’s the truth. Rhett would probably have her on a plane to Canada by now.

“All right, just let me grab my stuff,” she says, as I pull into her drive.

“Take your time, Sunshine. I’ve got a few calls I need to make.”

She nods and jumps out of the truck. I grab my cell and call Parker.

“Parker,” he answers.

“Did we get any lab results back yet?”

“Everything so far has come back inconclusive or negative. We’ve got dick all.”

“Fuck! Anyone recognize any of the offenders in the area?”

“One might have seen Harrison Lewis, but the description of the car he was in didn’t match. I sent Jones and Perez over to check him out anyway, but I’m not hopeful.”

“All right, call me if you get anything at all. I’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” he says and hangs up the phone.

Shit.
We’ve been working this guy for a long time now. He finally slipped up, and I thought for sure we would find something, anything at all. These families need closure, but I can’t make something out of nothing. I’m following every lead possible, and have even sent in the information we have to be aired on one of the big crime shows soon. Hopefully we’re chosen, and it leads to a tip we can use.

I look back up at Lana’s house, but see no sign of her, so I decide to call my aunt Patti. Ever since Mom and Dad died five years ago, she’s kind of taken on the parent role. She moved to Florida a year ago, and I’ve only gotten out to see her once. Still hoping she comes back to visit me someday, but for now, we try and keep in touch over the phone.

“Weston, finally! I hear the Carters got you for dinner, I was hoping I’d at least get a phone call,” she says in the tone she uses to make me feel like a guilty prick. Or maybe I just am one. Thanks, Tanya, for ratting me out.

“I’m sorry, Patti. I’m working a big case, and she caught me off guard when she asked.” More like she offered up chili and cornbread.