Overflow: The Carpino Series (14 page)

Leigh laughs a little grunt.  "Well, who knows,
but my guess?  She didn’t see the signs because she didn't want to.  She
was enjoying living her high life too much to see what was right in front of
her face."

"Enough about Megan,” I say.  This is getting depressing
and I don’t feel like talking about her.  “What else is going on with
you?  You still volunteering"

"Yeah, I'm still at the hospital a couple days a week
and at the food bank every once in a while when they need someone to fill in. 
Preston doesn’t like me volunteering there, but he doesn’t mind a couple days
at the hospital and you know I like being there with the patients.  I get to
see people I used to work with from time to time.”

Preston Briggs is an Executive Vice President of a software
development company.  They met at the hospital where Leigh was working when he
was there for a business meeting.  He makes a ton of money so about a year
after they were married, he told her he didn’t want her working anymore.  Leigh
was an ICU nurse and loved her job at the hospital.  He’s ten years older than
Leigh and a pretentious ass.  Preston was as nice as he had to be before they
got married, but since then has become a cold, controlling husband to Leigh and
I hate that for her.  She’s never had a good man in her life.  Her dad was a
deadbeat, leaving Leigh, her mom and sister high and dry before I met her in
the third grade.  Although it was surprising to me she chose as she did for a
husband, she’s changed over the last four years becoming a mere ghost of
herself.  Preston doesn’t let her get together with her friends, work at a job
she loves or even be who she is.   But she’s my friend and I have to support
her choices.  That’s what good girlies do for one another.  “I’m glad you still
get to be at the hospital, Leigh.  I know you love it there.”

She gazes over my shoulder out my back windows and says,
“Yeah.”  Pulling in some air, she puts an almost real smile on her face and
says, “But I want to know about you.  Reagan tells me about this man in your
life, I want to know all about him.  It’s been a long time for you, Gabby.  Is
this a good thing?”

I can’t help the feeling that passes through me as I think
of Jude, feeling the smile on my face.  I say softly, “Yeah, it’s a good
thing.”

“Well she told me all about him.  Other than him being hot,
like really hot with a great voice, she says he’s from Colorado.  Does he still
have family there?” she asks.

I think back to a couple nights ago when Jude took me to
dinner.  We were on our way back to my house when he says, “Babe, I’ve gotta
make a stop, get some stuff for tomorrow, do you mind?”

“Sure, where are we going?”

“I’m just going to swing by my condo, grab a jacket and some
more clothes.”

I sit up almost at attention, “I’m going to get to see your
condo?” I ask, enthusiastically.

He grins over at me at and says, “Sugar, don’t get excited. 
There’s not much to see.”

“I don’t care!  I get to see where you live!  We haven’t
exactly had a normal start to…well…whatever it is that we have.  Plus, I’ve
been locked up like a hermit crab and I haven’t seen your home! I’m so excited!”
I say, bouncing in my seat.

“Gabby, it’s not a home, it’s a condo.  And not a great one
at that.  There’s no need to get all worked up about it.”

“Whatever, Jude.  You can’t stop me from being happy!”

Shaking his head, realizing he isn’t going to convince me
this is not the monumental occasion it is, he makes one more turn into a
parking lot that houses a row of not great condos.  Hmm, he really wasn’t
kidding.  He throws his truck in park and looking over at me, says, “I told
you.”

I grin at him, turn to my door and as I’m getting out I yell,
“Let’s get moving, I want to see inside!”

I run around to meet him at the hood of his truck.  Seeing
as he isn’t going to be able to rain on my parade, he rolls his eyes, takes my
hand and pulls me to the door of the condo on the end.  He opens the rickety
screen door sticking a key in the handle, swings open the door and reaches in
to flip on some lights before he puts a hand to my back pushing me in. 

Hmm, again.

It is very plain. 

I haven’t given a lot of thought as to what Jude’s home is
like since he’s always in my home and I like him there.  He has a newish sofa,
one of those sofas that you only buy for comfort and not because it’s pretty,
at
all
, if you know what I mean.  Sitting next to it is an old-ish recliner in
dark brown,
again
, made for comfort rather than design.  Both of these pieces
are strategically placed for maximum viewing capacity of a too-large-for-the-space
flat screen television that sits on an old coffee table pushed against the
interior wall.  Through the TV-slash-comfort-room, I see the kitchen and off to
the left was a tiny hall that probably houses a bathroom.  To the right, as you
came in the front door is a narrow set of stairs going up.  “Sit down, babe. 
I’ll grab my stuff and we’ll get going,” he bosses.

My eyebrows go up and I exclaim, “Are you kidding me?  No
way, I want to see it all!”  I move around him to head up the stairs without an
invitation.  I hear Jude letting out a big sigh making his way up behind me. 

I get to the top and turn left to find three doors.  Feeling
like I’m on a treasure hunt, the treasures being glimpses into Jude’s condo
life, I head into one and flip on the light.  It’s a small room with a boat
load of boxes in it.  Some of the boxes are open with stuff strewn on the floor
around them, apparently he was looking for something and when he found it left
the rest of the stuff where it fell.  I walk into the room further and lean
over to pick up a famed picture.  In it is a way younger Jude with another
Jude-like person but even younger.  I look up and him and ask, “Who’s this?”

“My brother,” he answers simply. 

“Your brother?” I look down at the picture while keeping on,
“How many siblings do you have?”

“Just Breck.”

“Breck?” I ask, looking for more clarification on anything
and everything.

“Brecken, my brother.  He’s three years younger than me.”

“Does he live in Colorado?”

“Yeah, he’s outside of the Springs.  He’s married, has a
son.”

“Really?  Uncle Jude?” I grin big at him as he keeps shaking
his head at me.  “You’re closed tight, Jude Ortiz, why do I not know this?”

He comes close to me, takes the frame, lightly tosses it on
the dingy carpet and takes my hand pulling me out of the room.  “What do you
want to know, Gabby?” he asks as he pulls me out and turns off the light,
heading into another door.  Flipping on the light, there is a queen size bed,
super messy with sheets, pillows and blankets scattered everywhere, an old
nightstand, dresser and more boxes stacked up along the walls. 

Well, now I have to know everything.  This man who is living
at my house and I’m having a lot of sex with is a closed book, sealed tight.  Not
wanting to look desperate for information, I try my best to pull a Jude and
change the subject, “You know you really can’t give me shit about my garage
anymore.  How long have you lived here?  You should really finish unpacking.”

"Sugar, I signed a one year lease and you can tell this
isn't a place I want to be for longer than a year.  There was no reason to
settle any more than I needed to," he says as he digs through drawers, stuffing
things into a gym bag.

I start walking around the room looking at stuff strewn
everywhere and ask, "Are your parents still in Denver?"

"My dad's still there.  My parents divorced when I
was in high school, my mom remarried about 10 years ago.  She and her husband
live in Sedona now." 

“Huh,” I barely respond.  “Are your parents Hispanic?  Where
does Ortiz come from?”

“My grandfather, dad’s dad, he was Puerto Rican.  But other
than that, I’m a little bit of everything.”

I grin at him and say, "Well, what you are is tall,
dark and handsome with a lot of mysterious mixed in.  Thank you, Jude. 
That was actually a wealth of information.  Sorry your parents are
divorced."

"It's okay.  They're happier apart and they don’t
have a problem being around each other.  It's never been ugly or
anything," he explains with a shrug. 

"That's good," I say quietly.  I sit down on his
bed as he heads to his closet and I think about part Puerto Rican Jude having a
brother and divorced parents.

Shaking me out of my thoughts, he's standing in front of me
holding his hand out and says quietly, "Let's go, sugar. I'm done." 
Taking his hand, I nod and let him pull me out of his room, all of a sudden sad
that he’s lived here almost a year, out of boxes and doesn’t have a home. 

Needing to know as much as I can find out, I give his hand a
little squeeze and say tentatively, “Jude, you know all about me.  I mean, you
know it’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone else.”  He stops and
turns to gaze down at me with a guarded look.  “So, when was the last time you
were with someone, you know, long term, or um, even serious?” I ask, stumbling
over my words, praying it’s okay to ask about his past.

He stands there and looks down at me for quite a few beats. 
He gives my hand a yank pulling me into him, his other arm goes around my waist
and says with meaning, “A long time, Gabby.  A really fucking long time,” he
leans down and kisses me softly.  Pulling back to look down at me he states,
“Let’s go.” 

There’s something about the way he answered my question with
finality that doesn’t invite me to ask further.  Taking my hand again, he leads
me out of his not great condo and we head home.

I look back up at Leigh, finishing my story, I say, “Even
though he’s a little mysterious, I do know more than I did last week.  He makes
me really happy, though.  It’s different than being with James, but it’s only
been a couple weeks, even though it’s been a crazy couple of weeks.  I’m just
hoping it stays good, you know?”

Leigh looks at me intently and with meaning she says softly,
“Yeah, girlie, I know.”

Taking the opportunity, I make a point of my own, “Leigh,
you know I’m here for you, right?  Anytime, if you need to talk or you need
anything else.  I feel like you’re not yourself anymore, like I’ve lost a part
of you.”

Quietly, she responds, “I know, Gabby.  I know you’re here
for me.”

“Okay, then.  Where is Preston, by the way?”

She sighs big and looks out the window again, “He flew out
first thing this morning for a conference all week.”

“All right.  Stay for dinner.  My pop called after church
this morning, informing me that he is coming for dinner tonight and further
informing me that I’m making spinach manicotti with marinara, his favorite. 
Then he informed me that my new boyfriend had better be here.  You being here
will a good distraction for me, because I’m personally not looking forward to
it.”

“Girl.  You know I would love to witness that show, but I’m
not sure my stomach can handle manicotti right now,” she sighs.  “Plus, you
know Preston will call and be unhappy if I’m not at home,” she shrugs as an
apology. 

“That’s okay, but next time I’m making you stay!” I mock
threaten her. 

“I can’t wait to meet him, Gabby.”

“You will, and soon,” I promise her.

She gives me a big hug and walks out the front door and I
think to myself how different she is now and how I freaking hate Preston
Briggs.  Closing and locking the door behind her, I yell down the stairs informing
Tony, “Tone, you’re staying for dinner!”

“Depends on what you’re making,” he yells back.

“Spinach manicotti.”

There’s a pause before Tony asks, “Is Pop coming?”

“Yes,” I bite back.

“Will Jude be here?” he asks further.

Seriously? 

“Yeah,” I answer, frustrated because he’s on to me and knows
I just want someone here to play interference.  Although, now that I’m thinking
this through, I am kicking myself because having Tony here could make it
worse.  Way worse!

I hear him laughing from the basement as he answers, “Sure
thing Gabba Gabba!  It should be a fun night!  I wouldn’t miss it if you paid
me!”

Damn.  What was I thinking?  I look to the ceiling to pray
for patience then move to my kitchen to start dinner. 

The water is washing over me.  I’m standing with my back to
Jude, one of his arms is snaked around me, his magical fingers working between
my legs and the other is holding me up with his hand on my breast.  My hands
are braced up against the shower wall trying to hold my weight as my orgasm
shoots through me.  “Jude,” I breathe out.

His hands leave me and go to my hips pulling me down onto
his lap, now sitting on the shower bench, guiding himself inside me.  His mouth
comes to my ear from behind me and he says through the water, “Move, sugar.” 
His hands are a my hips to lead me and I spread my legs to straddle his,
leaning forward to put my hands to his knees in front of me for support and
start moving as best I can from this position.  Jude is yanking me down onto
him, obviously not taking things slow this morning.  “Touch yourself, Gabby,”
he demands. 

Ohmygoodness. 

I take a hand from his knee to touch myself as Jude is
pulling me down on him, it starts building again.  “That’s it baby, faster,” he
rasps to me. 

It’s coming again and I feel like I’m not going to be able
to move anymore.  He must sense this because it’s all him now, slamming me down
onto him.  I gasp, throwing my head back to his shoulder.   He yanks me down on
top of him one more time and plants his face in my neck groaning.  I lean back
into him placing my hand on the side of this face and we sit here letting the water
run over us.  “There’s nothing better than listening to you breathe my name,
Gabby.  Nothing,” he whispers in my ear through the water.  He squeezes me one
more time as he adds, “I can’t get enough of you, baby.” 

This is true, Jude’s alarm went off at oh dark thirty,
freaking early, he rolled into me tucking his hand under my cami and started
playing with my nipples.  Then his mouth came to my neck and he said, “Come
shower with me, babe.  Then you can come back to bed.”  How could I say no to
that?

He lifts me, standing me up while turning me around and
pushes me under the water.  I feel his hands on my head as he works shampoo
into my hair and it feels so good, I put my hands on his waist, leaning my
forehead into his chest to lean on him while he washes my hair.  Pushing me
back, he rinses it out, tips my head up to him and kisses me softly.  I blink
through the water and say, “You have to condition it or it will be a mess all
day.”

Grinning down at me, he kisses me quick and returns, “I’ll
remember that,” as he goes for my conditioner.  While he’s working conditioner
through my hair, I grab a washcloth and start washing myself when he pushes me
back under the water to rinse my hair again.  Turning me again, his arm snakes
around my front, pulling my back into his chest and he takes my washcloth away
to wash between my legs.  I’m still sensitive from earlier, I can’t help but
close my eyes and lean my head back against his shoulder.  He kisses my temple
and says to me, “Go back to bed, babe.  Get some more sleep.”

I turn to him and put my arms around his waist and up his
back fitting myself to him.  Up on my tiptoes, I kiss him and say, “Okay.”

Getting out, I towel off, squeezing as much water out of my
hair as I can.  I go to my closet to grab one of Jude’s t-shirt’s off the top
of his ever exploding bag on the floor and head straight back to bed.  Mia
snuggles into me, wondering why I would get up so early to begin with and I
barely hear the water turn off.  Minutes later I feel Jude’s hand under the
covers sliding up the side of my leg to land on my bare ass and he gives me a
squeeze.  With his lips on my forehead and he says, “Bye, sugar.  I’m setting
the alarm. Call me when you get up.”

“Have a good day,” I mumble and snuggle in deeper, my wet
hair strewn all over the pillow. 

“You too, Gabby.  Your Uncle Nic will be here in a few. 
I’ll wait for him before I leave,” he says, leaning in to kiss me again. 

“Unh huh,” I mumble as my very relaxed body starts to find
sleep again. 

*****

“It’s not a hunch anymore, man.  This is Harper.  We’ve got
an ID on him from the airport attendant at Cherry Capital Airport in Traverse
City.  The plane was booked last night to fly into Fremont Municipal first
thing this morning.  Our Agents up there had all flights in the area tagged to
anywhere in our vicinity, so the red flag went up immediately,” Mac said into
my ear as I’m driving into the office.  “We knew last night there was a plane
booked from the Lake Michigan area and thought it was a shot in the dark, but
it looks like it’s turning out to be Harper making his way home.” 

“Anyone with him?” I return.

“Yeah, he’s got his right hand man with him.  We still don’t
know where they were staying, but we’ll find out soon enough.  They took off in
a private charter an hour ago.  They should be landing at Fremont in forty five
minutes.”

“I’ll be to you in five, we should have plenty of time, but
I want to be there when that mother fucker gets off the plane,” I bite out. 
This moment has been in the back of my mind for the last two weeks. 

“Calm down, Ortiz.  I know you can’t think of anything
besides smashing his face in, but we’ve got another situation to deal with
first.”

“What?” 

“Megan Harper.  Her tail is reporting that she is packing up
her SUV.  We’ve got a tracker on her car, so we’ll know where she is and the
ping on her phone will show, too.  An unmarked car is ready to follow her and
we’ll monitor her tracker in the wire room, but man, it looks like she could be
meeting up with her husband for the first time in three weeks.”

“What the fuck?”  We have all of her phones tapped and a
ping order on her phone to show the coordinate location.  How did we miss their
communication?  Unless they had backup plans, which means Megan Harper would
have been aware something like this could happen and was prepared for it. 
Which also means Megan Harper knows more than we thought.

“I know, man.  That woman puts on a good front.  But this
cannot be a coincidence that she’s packing up when he’s heading south.  I
remember that woman from the raid.  I’m gonna need another cup of coffee to
deal with her,” he sighs as if he’s looking for patience. 

The rage inside me just ignited.  That bitch knew what she
was doing calling Gabby, fed the information to her jackass husband knowing he
would go after her with a physical and verbal warning.  For the first time in
my life, I’m feeling like I could beat the shit out of a woman. 

“I’m almost there,” I say.  “Be ready to go, I’m not in the
mood to waste time this morning.”

“There’s more,” Mac goes on.  “Her tail is almost one
hundred percent sure she’s packing her kids up with her.  We’re checking the
flight plan at Fremont, but it looks like they could be getting ready to bolt. 
I’ll be out front waiting, we should be getting word any minute now if that
plane has plans to move.”

I get to the office, Mac swings in and we gun it west,
alerting highway patrol who we are so they won’t stop us for speeding.  We make
the normally short thirty minute drive in twenty, finding out on the way that
Megan does have her kids with her, which throws a whole other dimension into
our ops plan.  Child Protective Services has been put on call in case the
children need to be taken into protective custody.  We have four undercover
surveillance units located inside the terminal waiting for Megan and her kids
to arrive, with additional units placed in the parking lot and tarmac.  The
Omaha SWAT team is the closest, largest unit to respond and have an armored
vehicle ready to move onto the tarmac if Harper doesn’t cooperate by exiting
the aircraft.  Since Fremont is a small department, a mass of Omaha PD is
providing backup, waiting a half mile away to descend when we start taking them
into custody.

“From what we can tell on the tracker, Mrs. Harper has taken
a wrong turn but has rerouted and is heading back this way.  The flight plan is
to refuel here and head straight west to the Outer Banks of South Carolina. 
The asshole seems to like water, I’m sure being landlocked in the Midwest was
torture for him,” our Group Supervisor informs us.  We are in the backroom of
the terminal of the Fremont Municipal Airport, a tiny airstrip right on the
edge of town.  The Falcon 10, a small private lightweight jet that Harper
chartered, should be here in fifteen minutes.  The plan is to get Megan and her
kids out of the way before Harper’s plane lands. 

“As soon as the wife and kids enter the terminal we will
quietly, for the kids’ sake, escort them into this room.   The pilot should
exit the plane since they are refueling, but if he doesn’t, the tower will
radio to him that there is an issue with the flight plan to get him out.  If
Harper continues to be the fuckwad he’s proven to be by not getting off to help
his wife with the kids and bags, we will send SWAT out, demand over the
speakers that they exit the aircraft.  If that doesn’t work, we’ll be forced to
smoke him out,” he goes on to lay out the operational plan that has been set. 

Hopefully this should be over in thirty to forty five
minutes and we will have three more in custody, but more importantly, Gabby
will be safe again.  I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, pull it out and see
Gabrielle listed across the screen.  Moving away from the group, slide my thumb
across and answer, “Sugar.”

“Good morning…again,” she responds and I can hear her
smile.  “I just woke up.”

“That’s good, Gabby.  I’m glad you got back to sleep.”

“What are you doing?  You left earlier than normal, or what
I’m guessing is normal for you, since you’ve been…well…here anyway,” she asks,
stumbling over her words again.

“We had something going on this morning that I needed to get
in for.  Is Nic still there?”

“No, he had to get to a building site, Tia just got here.  I
feel so bad about putting everyone out having to be here all the time.  I hope
this ends soon.”

Sensing movement in the small room we are congregated in, I
look out the window and see Megan Harper’s black Mercedes SUV pull in.   “Yeah,
babe.  I hope this ends soon, too.  Are you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Jude.  Just wanted to say good morning,”
she says softly.  I think about how I left her this morning, showered, sated
and back asleep with her dog in that big ass bed wearing nothing but my shirt. 

“It was a good morning, sugar,” I say quietly.  “Hey someone
needs me, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Oh, sorry.  I’ll be here, not going anywhere.  Anywhere at
all,” she says with sarcasm. 

“Goodbye, Gabrielle,” I say with a warning.

“Bye, Jude,” she responds with a little laugh and we
disconnect.   

I look back to the window to see Megan struggling with her
young children, bags and a stroller.  Her movements are quick, agitated and
anxious.  The kids have backpacks and the older one is trying to pull a
suitcase while Megan has bags thrown over her shoulders, pushing a stroller
with one hand while pulling another large suitcase with the other.  It’s clear
to see she’s packed as much as she could handle and is planning on being gone a
while.  She’ll throw attitude, but other than that, there shouldn’t be an issue
taking her into custody.  I hate it when kids are involved.  We’ve got
additional female officers here to help deal with them and hopefully we will be
able to call family to take them, but it’s not going to be a fun couple of hours,
that’s for sure.

Megan enters the small terminal with her kids and moments
later I hear Megan start to scuffle, yelling at the agents.  Kids start crying
and the noise gets louder as I hear the agents directing them to our location. 
The doors open, the female officers go directly to the kids, moving them to the
side while another female officer moves in to remove bags and frisk Megan. 

“What are you doing?” she screams.  “You can’t bring me in
here!  I’ve done nothing wrong!” she’s agitated, you can visibly see her
tremble and tears are starting to form and fall down her face.  Signs of stress
from the last three weeks are evident, she doesn’t look nearly as put together
as she did that day at her house and she has dark circles under her eyes. 
Meanwhile, the two older kids are crying, calling out for their mom and the
hysteria in the room is building.

The female officer attending to Megan who is cuffing her
tries to reason with her.  “Ma’am, you need to calm down.  You are scaring your
children.  If you cooperate, we will get them out of here quicker, hopefully
call family to come and get them.  If you don’t have anyone who can make the
trek to collect them, they will have to be placed with Child Protective
Services.  Now, no one here wants that, including you, so calm down and quit
screaming,” the officer says as she gives her a quick but forceful yank to get
her point across.

“No!  You can’t take them away!” her panic reaching a new
level.  She’s looking around the room quickly, for what, I don’t know, until
her eyes come to Mac and me.  “You!  You were both at my house that day!” the
noise in the room continues to climb between Megan screaming and the baby is
now crying with the older two.

I enter the fray, saying, “You need to calm down, Mrs.
Harper, if not for your children, then for yourself.  It will only be in your
best interest if you cooperate.”

“It’s you,” she barely breathes.  “I talked to you on the
phone.  You’re with Gabby?”

Tensing, I do everything I can to control myself and my
language in front of her children.  “Don’t.  Do not even think about uttering
her name after what your husband did to her.  Do you understand me?  You set
her up, informing your husband that I was with her.  You’ve lost that right, do
you get me?”

Mac butts in with, “Enough.”  Looking to the female officer
he instructs, “Mirandize her now.”  Looking back at Megan he bites out, “I
don’t know why I’m telling you this, but if I were you I would shut your mouth,
woman.  Look around, you’re in a room full of officers of the law and you’re
just digging your own grave.   Not to mention, you can save your voice for
later when we’re the ones asking the questions.”