Smoke and Mirrors (9 page)

They pulled the house details up on the monitor in the car and both groaned as they saw the guy’s name.

Senior Detective Beau Jarvis.

“Oh man, he’s one of ours,” they both said, almost simultaneously.

The rest of the car ride back to the station was quiet, both of the officers stoic. Neither of them knew what to do. It wasn’t that they weren’t trained, but this was one of their own.

They walked into the station and into their Chief’s office.

“Ma’am,” they said as they stood at her door, waiting for her to acknowledge them and invite them in.

“What?” she barked at them, knee-deep into trying to figure out what she was going to do with the latest high-profile homicide that had landed on her desk.

“We were called to a domestic disturbance. The neighbors had called it in, but you should know there may be an issue with it,” Luke said.

“Did the asshole beat her?” she asked as she kept perusing her work.

“It looks like it, but she’s not talking and he’s…well…um…” He didn’t know what to say.

“Either speak or stop wasting my time and get out,” she said, her sentence short and her voice clipped.

“He’s Beau Jarvis,” Jake said, and looked to his superior for advice on what to do.

Her eyes lifted from the paper and she took a deep breath in, and sighed it out, slowly, closing her eyes. She sat back in her black chair and ran a hand over her eyes before letting both hands rest on the desk. “Fuck,” she grumbled. “Leave it with me. You two can go.”

“You don’t want us…”

“I don’t want you two to do anything, I said leave it with me, now fuck off and go do some real police work. I’m busy.” She dismissed them with no more than those angry words and looked back down at her work.

The two guys left, stunned. They were under instructions to leave Beau Jarvis to her, so really, what else could they do?

Three days later, the young rookie cop was due to start his shift at one p.m. and was ready early, so he decided to stop off and grab a cup of coffee from his favorite café.

The queue wasn’t that bad. Three people were ahead of him in line to order as he stood and looked up at the menu board to decide what he was going to have.

The person at the front of the line moved to the side to wait for her order and he recognized her.

It was the young woman from the domestic disturbance call a few days back. She was sporting a fresh bruise she was desperately trying to conceal under big sunglasses and heavy makeup.

He watched her as she meekly took her coffee and went over to a booth to sit and enjoy her drink.

He ordered his, keeping a watchful eye on her.

She sat at the window seat looking out to the street. She’d carelessly removed her sunglasses, and wistfully watched the world outside.

He saw the longing in her face, the desire to be anywhere but here.

He took his coffee and went toward the exit, determined to leave her to her hopes and dreams. But something stopped him.

Maybe it was the way her thick, light brown hair sat on her shoulders, or the innocent small smile teasing her naturally pink lips that stopped him. He saw the sun on her pale skin as the rays beamed into the café, seeming to caress her. She edged closer to the window, still taking in all the sights.

She was safe here, and he could see she welcomed the warmth of the sun while she sat appreciating her warm beverage.

Then he did something he knew he shouldn’t.

He walked over to the beautiful woman and sat beside her, trapping her between the window and him.

She didn’t hear him, so focused on her time alone she didn’t hear him approach.

He took a sip of his coffee, and shifted in his seat.

At that moment she felt his intrusion in her personal space, and she whipped her head to the left to see who it was. If it was her husband…well she knew what would happen.

“Who are you?” she said as she grabbed for her glasses to shove them back on her face, belatedly covering her bruised eye.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to hide,” Jake said gently so he wouldn’t frighten her any more than she already was.

Like a timid little kitten, she scooted further back, as if wishing she had magical powers so she could fall through the wall and run away.

“What do you want?” she asked as she looked over his shoulder to the door, just in case.

“Do you remember me?” Jake asked, his voice low and soothing.

She kept her eyes on the door, swiftly stole a glance at him, and quickly returned them to the door.

“Yes, you’re the cop from the other day,” she whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear their personal and private conversation. “Please leave, he…” She stopped herself before she said something that would lead him to understand what exactly had been going on behind closed doors.

“He what?”

Damn it, the cop caught her slip of the tongue.

“Nothing, just go.”

“You don’t have to stay with him. We can help you,” he murmured in a low, clear voice.

“You have no idea who the hell he is,” she said, shaking her head.

“I know he’s one of ours.” The rookie cop moved his hand to skim it across her face, in a stupid moment of weakness. A few strands of her hair were covering her intense eyes, and he merely leaned in to tuck the strays behind her ear.

She immediately flinched, took a huge gulp of air and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for his fist to strike her already abused skin.

“No,” she whispered again. “You don’t know who he is.”

“I won’t hurt you. Let me help you.” He managed to glide his warm fingers across her cheek, and she didn’t flinch this time.

What is it about her? Why do I want to protect her?

As his hand made contact with her face, she let out a small mewl, so tiny that only she felt it as it ripped through her bruised chest.

Her eyes closed again, not in fear, but in an appreciative, contented way. With this one simple touch, this one act of selflessness shown to her by a man she’d only briefly spoken with, she knew there was another way.

“I can help you,” Jake said again, as he ran a gentle hand down her clothed arm.

“No one can help me. I’ve made a deal with the devil, and now he owns me.”

Momentarily she had forgotten. She forgot the abuse, the caustic words, the fists and allowed herself a moment of respite.

But she knew she would never get away from him. Not alive anyway.

“Please, I need to leave,” she said, trying to break off communication with the cop.

“I can hide you,” he said in a moment of sheer desperation.

He didn’t want her to walk away, and he certainly didn’t want her to go back to him.

“Please,” she begged. “Just let it be.”

Jake stayed in his seat, not wanting to move. He wanted her, but not for some cheap affair. He knew she was too fragile for any type of relationship. He wanted to protect her, hold her, and treat her exactly like she should be treated, like a precious rare gem.

“Promise me you’ll come back here tomorrow,” he blurted. He just wanted to see her, make sure she was safe.

“I can’t, tomorrow I have…” She averted her eyes. She was clutching at thin air, trying to find an excuse.

“Tomorrow, or I’ll come to your home.”

“NO!” she shouted, her voice way too loud.

“Tomorrow.” He pushed for a commitment from her.

Just then her cell rang, and she jumped back in her seat, knowing what the ringing phone meant.

She got it out of her bag, and slid her finger across the screen, not even checking to see who the caller is.

“Hi, baby,” she said as she stared into Jake’s intensely angry eyes. “I’m sorry, I just thought I’d sit here and have a coffee. I’ll leave right now.” She went quiet, listening to whatever that prick was saying to her. “Yes, I understand. Chicken breast not thigh, and you want the potatoes mashed, not fried.” She let out a deep breath as she continued to listen. “Five-thirty exactly, not a moment after. I’ll go get your suits right now.”

The rookie cop refused to move until she gave him her word she’ll be in the café tomorrow.

“I love you too,” she said and waited for the prick to disconnect before she sighed deeply.

“Promise me,” the cop said again.

“Please move. I have to leave.” She was eager to go, and the cop understood why. She wouldn’t welcome another beating from him.

“Tomorrow, I start at two p.m. Please meet me here at noon, and I’ll treat you to lunch. Please.”

“I can’t. He has a tracker on my phone.”

“Let the battery run down tonight and leave it at home.”

“You don’t understand. I just can’t.”

“Coffee at one then.”

“I can’t, it’s too hard.” She looked away, regretful that she wasn’t able to accept the help of this generous man offering her a life preserver. “I can’t,” she said again. Tears pooled in her blue eyes, ready to streak her face any second.

“Please.” He was beyond bewildered by his own immense desire to shield her and ensure she was protected.

She darted worried eyes around the café and leaned toward the man. She didn’t even know his name. “One quick coffee and you’ll have to leave immediately.” Her voice shook, but he knew she would be there, even if it only lasted for a few moments.

He moved out of her way, clasped her hand in his, and refused initially to let her go. But he understood she had to leave.

She hurried out of the café without looking back.

He stood staring at the frail, incredible woman as she rushed away.

He knew what he had to do.

And the plan had already begun to form in his mind.

He was going to take her, and kill the monster who used his fists to talk.

But first, he needed to call in a favor from a person he knew from his his younger days, back on the streets, someone that owed him.

It was time for Tyler to pay for that
problem
Jake had taken care of for him, back in the old neighborhood. The incident Tyler wasn’t yet aware his friend had cleaned up.

He sat in the same comfortable chair he always sat in when he was meeting a date. And although the dates never repeated, the women were all the same.

They’d take one look at him and judge.

He was incredibly tall, though he had a taut, athletic body. His hair was buzz-cut short and he carried a terrible scar running the length of his face. That wasn’t the only reason why his dates were never repeated. He also had three fingers missing on his left hand and a prosthetic leg.

When a date walked in the restaurant and sat down with him, she immediately assessed his appearance and decided he wasn’t worth her time.

Oh, they stayed and ate the excellent dinner he provided for them. They even pretended to find him interesting and laughed at all the right times, though afterwards they never returned his calls or messages once the ’date’ was over.

Mr. Brody knew they didn’t like his looks, and became more and more disheartened every time he went on one of these ‘dates’. Not because they didn’t like his looks, he’d long ago accepted that reality. But what saddened him was they were all the same.

He wasn’t affected by their looks. He really didn’t care how they dressed or what hair style they favored. He simply wanted each woman to be something other than what they were.

“Are you waiting on a date, Mr. Brody?” Jessie asked as she put a glass of water down for him, interrupting his thoughts about the dates he’d lined up.

“Yeah,” he said, though it came out on a sigh.

“Maybe this one will be different,” Jessie said, gifting him with a soft smile.

“Who knows? After all this time, they all seem the same.” He dragged his eyes to the glass of water and took in a deep breath.

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places,” she retorted, a bit too snippy for his liking.

Mr. Brody looked at Jessie and thought maybe she was having a bad day, so he excused her small outburst.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed. “I’ll be back when your lady friend joins you.”

Mr. Brody nodded once, and went back to his glass of water.

He’d been in this very restaurant for every blind date he’d had since…since…since
she
left him.

Jessie walked away, leaving Mr. Brody to silently brood, waiting for his date to arrive. He already knew it would be like every other date he’d had.

In a few moments, a beautiful, leggy blonde approached him and asked if he was her date.

Like the gentleman he was, Mr. Brody stood and held his hand out to introduce himself to her. The leggy blonde took it, but her eyes went directly to his missing fingers and sucked in a deep breath as she gingerly shook his hand.

Yep – another one bites the dust,
he thought as her face fell and she snatched her hand back out of his.

“Would you care for some wine?” he asked as he rounded the table to pull out her chair so she could sit.

As he returned to his side of the table, her calculating blue eyes went straight to his obvious limp, and her mouth twisted in disgust.

“Why are you limping? Have you been injured?” she asked.

“It’s a prosthetic leg,” he answered candidly.