Authors: Jennifer Apodaca

Thrilled To Death (8 page)

BOOK: Thrilled To Death

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“Damn it, Cal,” Gabe said in a low voice, “let me contact a couple of my buddies from the departmentâ”

“No.” Cal threw a piece of bread on his plate, and then fixed a rock-hard glare on Gabe. “Stay out of it.” He turned and went out the sliding glass door.

I saw Gabe's shoulders tighten and rise. Still holding the ice, I moved up next to him. “Anything I can do?”

He looked down at me and forced the corners of his mouth upward. “Not unless you want to hit him again.” He left too.

I stood there alone in the house with the rich, spicy smells and a simmering anger. After setting the bag of ice down on the table, I poured myself a glass of wine and drank half of it.

I did not like being cut out of Gabe's life.

I set the glass down, made a plate of food, and retrieved my glass and the ice bag. I started toward the door, then went back into the kitchen and snagged the wine bottle, managing to tuck it safely beneath my arm while juggling everything else.

If I didn't drink it, it would come in handy to hit the next male that kept a secret from me.

As soon as I sat down across from Grandpa and next to Gabe, I handed Fletch the ice bag. Once I was settled, Bo lifted his wine glass. “I'd like to make a toast.”

“Can we have wine so we can make the toast?” Joel asked.

I looked past Gabe to Joel. “No.”

“Bummer.” Joel lifted his glass of soda.

Bo winked at TJ and Joel, then said, “To Fletch Knight and his well-deserved invitation to perform at the House of Cards.”

Everyone cheered and drank. Ali thought all the noise was an invitation to play and ran around the two tables barking.

Joel slipped Ali a crust of bread, then tried to keep me from noticing by saying, “Hey, Bo, when you do close-up magic, do you have to special order your stuff like the fake fingers to match your skin color?”

I choked on my wine.

Bo looked up and covered an amused expression. “Pass me the saltshaker.”

I set my wine down and watched him. He took the saltshaker and unscrewed the lid. Then he folded one hand to create a hole at the top of his thumb and fingers. He lifted the salt and poured into the hole. He looked around the table, then tapped down the salt and opened his hands.

The salt was gone.

“Cool!” Joel said. “Bring it back.”

Bo entertained all of us by dramatically making the salt reappear. Joel ran in the house to get his prop and did the same trick. Then he and Bo huddled and decided that there was very little difference in the color of their props.

Basically, Bo was very light skinned, and when he performed a salt trick, people were trying to find where the salt went to and didn't notice something like the end of his thumb being a little lighter or darker. Bo went on to explain that his goal was to keep the audience focused on the part of the illusion he wanted them to see.

Fletch said, “Hey TJ, why don't you show us your skill at counting cards.”

Fletch was on the end of the table with his right leg propped up on a chair and the bag of ice on his calf. The lump was already turning vivid colors. I was really impressed that he thought to bring TJ into the conversation. That was nice of him.

TJ shook his head. “Nah. That's not magic.”

Bo said, “You can count cards?”

TJ shrugged.

I knew he was pleased though, because I saw him glance up at Grandpa. And Grandpa smiled back.

“He's got a huge math brain,” Joel said, and looked at his brother. “Want me to get some cards?”

“Later,” TJ said. Then he looked at Bo. “What is your good news?”

That was TJ. He was happy just to have a little attention, but then he was even happier to turn the attention off himself.

Bo glanced at me. I guessed that he was asking if he should let it drop about TJ counting cards. I nodded at him to go ahead with his news. He slipped his fake thumb into his pants pocket, took a sip of his wine, and announced in his deep velvety voice, “I'll be signing a contract for a cartoon character based on my magic show. It'll be called Magic Bo.”

“Wow!” I was impressed. “Bo, that is fantastic!”

Everyone else joined in.

Bo's face flooded with pleasure. “I don't have all the details yet, but it's been pretty exciting.”

Grandpa raised his wineglass. “To Bo. You made it just like your dad and I knew you would!”

We all drank to Bo. I thought about how good it was for Grandpa to have both Bo and Fletch here, two of his success stories to offset his guilt and anger over Shane.

“Oh crap.”

I heard the shatter of glass and looked over at Fletch.

“Sorry.” He looked up and blushed. “My ice bag was falling. I grabbed for it and dropped the wineglass.” He took his leg off the chair. “Don't get up. I'll take care of it.”

I stood. “No, sit down. I'll get it. You just keep the ice on your leg.” I went into the kitchen and pulled a long length of paper towels off the roll, then got out the trash can. I went out and wiped up the broken glass and little bit of wine that had been left in the glass.

“I'm really sorry, Sam.” Fletch watched me, looking dejected and miserable.

He probably thought he ruined Bo's big moment. “It's not a big deal, Fletch. Do you want some more wine?”

He relaxed. “Maybe coffee would be better.”

I laughed. “I'll make some and serve the dessert that Gabe brought.”

Gabe got up. “I'll help you.” He followed me into the kitchen.

I put the trash can away and washed my hands. Gabe got started on brewing the coffee. He was silent and seemed tired. I'm sure tearing down a wall and fighting with his brother wore him out.

I glanced out the window over the sink, then I said quietly, “You don't have to stay to help me with the investigation tonight. Maybe you and Cal should talk.”

He poured in the water, set the carafe under the drip, then turned on the machine. Then he settled his dark gaze on me. “You already have all the help you need, is that it?”

I had the feeling he was looking for a fight. “No.” I took a deep breath and tried to keep my temper under control. “I thought that maybe you were tired and maybe you needed to work something out with your brother.” What
help
was he talking about? “So far, no one has been any help, and no one knows what the hell Shane Masters is up to.”

Fletch limped into the kitchen. “Sam, Barney and I are looking into Shane. Don't worry, it'll be okay.”

I looked at Fletch as he carried the dripping ice bag. He walked around Gabe and came to where I stood to dump the melting ice in the sink. “Grandpa told you?”

He looked up. “Yes. After you left this morning, he told me about Shane's accusation. Then I came by this afternoon to see if he wanted to go look at dirt bikes, and he told me you two went to see Shane. Barney needs my help. The two of us will find out what's going on.” Fletch drew his eyebrows together. “Don't look so upset. Barney is worried because Shane threatened you. Shane doesn't even know I'm in town. He probably doesn't even know I exist. I'll help Barney.”

The sausage in the jambalaya burned in my stomach. Grandpa hadn't told me anything until he'd had to. He still hadn't told me about mentoring Shane, though he must realize that Rosy told me. But he told Fletch about Shane. What else did Grandpa tell him and not me? “Did he tell you where he was last night?” He'd told me he went to see a friend. I hadn't had the chance to press him for more information yet. I knew he hadn't gone to see Shane, but who had he gone to see?

Fletch shook his head. “I didn't ask him. Do you want me to?”

The anger washed the taste of acid up the back of my throat. I went to the pantry and pulled out a stack of paper plates, some napkins, and a box of plastic forks. I set them on the counter and glanced at Fletch. “Sure, if you think of it, ask him.”

“Umm.” Fletch glanced at me, then Gabe who stood silently by the coffeemaker, then added, “Okay, but is something wrong, Sam?”

I lifted the lid of the dessert Gabe had brought.

Chocolate cake.

And I didn't want it due to the lump of misery in my stomach. “Everything is fine.” I got a cake knife out of the drawer and started slicing the dessert. I handed Fletch a couple plates of cake. “Go take this outside.”

After he left, Gabe moved up beside me. “You didn't tell me Shane threatened you.”

I stopped cutting and looked up. “It was implied, and that was the reason Grandpa had been trying to keep me out of this thing with Shane. You and I haven't had time to sit down and go over this.”

“You found time to have lunch with Vance.”

He was mad about that. Vance and Gabe worked together sometimes, but they didn't like each other. “He called me. He wanted information about magicians and spoilers.”

“Right. He needed an exâsoccer mom's expertise.” God he was edgy tonight. And I was getting tired of defending myself. I turned back to the cake and cut a few more slices, slapped them on some plates, and picked them up. “At least he needed me.” I turned and went outside.

A
fter dessert, Joel had impressed everyone with his cups and balls trick. At Grandpa's urging, TJ had shown everyone his amazing ability to count cards. Bo dealt out half the deck, and TJ told him exactly how many aces and nines were in the remaining half. TJ may not have passion for magic, but he had his own talents.

Finally, Bo and Fletch both left. Grandpa and I walked them out, then came back into the kitchen, where Gabe was helping the boys finished up the dishes. Cal was eating more cake. His cut lip didn't appear to slow him down a bit.

“I'll finish up,” I told TJ and Joel. “You can go watch TV or whatever.”

“I have homework,” TJ said.

I looked at Joel.

“Man . . .” He stomped off after his brother into their bedroom to do their homework.

“Great kids, Sam,” Cal said as he tossed his empty paper plate in the trash.

I started to thank him, but a cell phone made all four of us stop and look around.

“It's mine,” Cal said, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He looked at the display window, frowned, and answered, “Hello.”

“Gabe, would you mind taking this trash out?” I pulled the plastic bag out and tied it with a twisty. “Gabe?” I looked up.

He was watching Cal.

“Are you sure? Did you look out the window?” Cal said, his face drawn into a hard scowl.

Grandpa said, “I'll get the trash, Sam. Then I'm going to bed.” He took the bag from my hand and headed out back.

Cal said, “Hang up and call the police.” He closed his phone and looked at us. “I have to take off. Thanks for dinner, Sam.” He turned and headed for the front door at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” Gabe snarled and went after him.

I stood there with the box of trash bags in my hand for a couple seconds, then I tossed the box on the counter and ran after them.

Gabe left the front door open. I couldn't see them in the dark, but I could hear them.

“There's a restraining order on you! You can't go to Melanie's if he's there! Don't be stupid!”

“Get out of my way, Gabe,” Cal answered in a deadly soft voice.

I ran down the porch steps.

Gabe dropped his voice. “You're throwing your life away for her.”

I went up to where Gabe and Cal stood at the front left headlight of Cal's red truck. Gabe must have gotten in front of Cal to block him. They glared at each other, and neither one looked reasonable. “Gabe, Cal, what's going on?” I touched Gabe's arm.

“I'm just leaving,” Cal said. He stormed around us, yanked open his truck door, and got in. The truck engine roared to life, then he backed up and took off.

Gabe headed for his truck.

I had had it. “Gabe!”

“I'll call you.” He kept going.

I chased after him and grabbed his arm. “Stop it and tell me what is going on.”

He halted and looked down. “Cal is on forced leave of absence from the fire department while being investigated for attacking another fireman. He could be terminated, and he won't let me help him save his job.”

I took that in. I'd only met Cal today, but he didn't strike me as a hothead. If he'd been a hothead, he'd have gotten up off the floor after I smacked him with the picture frame and come after me. I gently squeezed the rock that passed for Gabe's forearm and asked, “So what happened?”

“Cal was on a 911 call. When he arrived he found a woman he used to know, Melanie. She had been badly beaten up by her husband.” He took a breath and added, “Melanie is an ex-girlfriend of Cal's. She had wanted to get married, he hesitated and she left him. She married Dirk. Cal always regretted losing her, even though she's the one that broke his heart. She's the one thatâ”

“Gabe?”

He was furious. I could see it in the bulge of his jaw even in the dark. He blamed Melanie for hurting his brother.

“Cal's a damned idiot.” Gabe shifted his weight and looked in the direction that Cal had driven off. “That night after he got off work, he went to the hospital to see Melanie. She told him where Dirk hung out. Instead of passing the info on to the police who were looking for him, Cal tracked Dirk down, then broke his jaw and cracked a rib. Now he could be arrested for assault and lose his job.”

“And how does that relate to his job?”

“Dirk claims that Cal went into the bar and attacked him without provocation, that he has anger management issues and that he's been stalking Melanie and Dirk. Cal was put on leave while the department conducts an investigation. In the meantime, he won't let me investigate and build a defense for him to save his job. His whole fucking career.”

I studied Gabe in the faint light from the house. I saw that he was angry and upset, but I said gently, “Maybe his job isn't as important as Melanie. Maybe he needs your understanding and support.”

Gabe shifted his weight, then stared down at me. “So I should just let my brother lose his job and possibly go to jail? That's your idea of family support?” He turned, stalked to the truck, and yanked open the door. “You don't have brothers and sisters, Sam. In my family, we stand up to each other when one of us is screwing up.” He got in the truck and roared off.

That felt like a slap that cut right through to my inadequacies. My biological father cut out long before I was born, my mother went through men like most women go through purses, and my own marriage was a failure. But all this time, I thought Gabe believed in me anyway.

My alarm went off and yanked me out of my three hours of sleep. I slammed the off button and blamed Gabe Pulizzi. That got my blood going enough to drag myself through a shower and dress in a black skirt and sleeveless turquoise sweater. I added my strappy turquoise shoes and followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen.

I went directly to the coffeepot and poured out a steaming cup. Then I turned, expecting to see Grandpa.

Gabe sat at the table watching me while petting Ali.

I glared at my dog. “Some guard dog you are.”

She ignored me and let Gabe scratch her ears.

“Where's Grandpa?” He was always up before the boys and me. I went to the table and sat down.

“Barney had some work to do in his bedroom.”

I rolled my eyes. “He always takes your side.”

Gabe grinned.

Damn. He wore a green tank top that left his arms and most of his shoulders bare. I could smell the scent of his soap. “So I assume Cal is not in jail?”

He shook his head. “A friend of Cal's called him and told him that Melanie was fine. He turned around and went back to my house.”

I narrowed my eyes at Gabe. Sure it was early and my brain was only half-awake, but I was pretty sure that hadn't been a coincidence. “How did his friend get that information?”

“A cop friend of mine passed it on. Melanie called the police, and they went out to check her house and see if Dirk violated the restraining order. He had left by then.”

“Ah. You were a busy ex-cop last night, I see.” Gabe had lots of friends in the Los Angeles Police Department. I could easily see how he got the information, then engineered getting it passed on to a friend of Cal'sâprobably all from his cell phone. I moved on. “So Melanie has a restraining order against her husband, Dirk?”

Gabe nodded.

“And Dirk has a restraining order against Cal?” It was like a soap opera.

Another nod.

“Any chance Dirk will not press charges against Cal?”

Gabe's eyes darkened to nearly black-colored determination. “Possibly, if he has the right motivation.”

I didn't like the sound of that. “Gabe, what are you up to?”

“Solving problems. Cal's running off to Melanie's was a problem and I solved it.”

I remembered what he'd said to me last night about not understanding family. “Fine, do it your way. Why are you here?”

“To give you the information we didn't get to last night.”

Wasn't that nice of him? “Great.” I got up and went to Grandpa's desk right behind where Gabe sat. I got out a yellow tablet, then turned.

Gabe reached for me, catching me around my waist and pulling me down on his lap. “Nice outfit. I like the shoes.”

I blinked in surprise. “Uh, thanks.”

“Sam, I know you're mad. I had to leave. He's my brother.”

“I know.” God knows I put my two sons before Gabe. And he knew it. I wasn't upset about that. But we had bigger problems than the fact that I wasn't living up to Gabe's standards in understanding families. “I'm worried about Grandpa, and I need to find out what I can about Shane. I would like to help Nikki by figuring out whose show Shane is spoiling.” I stood up.

Gabe let me go, watching with his dark eyes. “Shane is a street thug. Like Vance told you, he has a record for assault. It was a little harder for me to find out about it because Shane was a juvenile at the time. I had to go to a few more sources until I talked to a friend of my mom's who is a retired parole officer. She remembers Shane. Two arrests, no jail time. But she said he had a mean streak.”

I sat down in my chair. Gabe had done some extensive work on this for me. “Oh.” I started making a few notes.

“Shane has never been married, no apparent kids. He does a few major spoiler shows a year now and is commanding huge audiences and TV spots. He's been interviewed on most of the TV magazine shows but gives little away about his personal life. He has an excellent security team to protect his shows and his property, but I can't find any evidence of personal security.”

I was fascinated. Gabe had done a thorough background. “Like a bodyguard?”

He got up and refilled his coffee cup. “Right. So what we have here is a man who thinks he can take care of himself.”

I shook my head as Gabe came back and sat down. “It's his two dogs. He loves those dogs, and they are scary. They are all the security he needs.” I sipped some coffee and added, “They ran off the hit man.”

Gabe nodded. “Good point. And according to my police source, it's like Vance told you, the hit man doesn't look like a pro. A pro would have done research and learned about the dogs.”

“So what do you think happened?”

Gabe sighed. “I think a dumb-ass magician hired some two-bit thug off the street. That guy read a book, or an article off the Internet, and thought he could make a quick ten grand.” He made a face. “For some reason, it's always ten thousand. It's like they hear that number on a TV show and assume that's the going rate for a kill.”

I stared at Gabe. He was tiredâI could see it in the slight hunch to his wide shoulders and the fatigue around his eyes. But he was also street smart. It was the kind of street knowledge that experience bred into a person at a young age. It's not something that could be learned later in life. “What is the going rate for a hit like that?”

He glanced at me with a small smile. “There's not exactly a union wage, Sam.”

I couldn't help it; I laughed. “But where does that leave us?”

“I already talked to Barney. I told him that if he suspects anyone, we can try to get a look at their financials to see if there are some big, unexplained withdrawals from their checking or savings accounts, or an advance on their credit cards, that kind of thing. But the smarter thing to do is to give Vance the info and let him do it.”

I liked that idea. I didn't want Grandpa involved in this. “Did Grandpa listen?”

“Barney always listens. Then he does what he wants to anyway.”

“True.” So I was back to worrying about him. And Nikki. “Did you find anything about Shane's show this Saturday?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“All right. Well, thanks. What are you going to do today?”

He leaned forward. “I'd like to spend the day helping you. But I have to run down some other stuff I'm working on. And I need to get to the office. Cal is already there with Blaine and the other men Blaine has helping. The wall is down, and we're doing clean up and patching the adjacent walls for painting tomorrow. The electrician will be in soon. I might need to run to LAâ” His face tightened, and he took a drink of coffee.

“For Cal?” Was I ever going to learn? He wanted me to stay out of it.

Gabe thumped his mug down on the glass-topped table. “He doesn't seem to care if he loses his job.”

I watched Gabe. “Maybe he doesn't care.”

He shook his head. “Sam, all Cal ever wanted to be was a fireman. He worked his ass off, and he's moved up the ranks. He loves his job.”

BOOK: Thrilled To Death

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