Read Golden Trail Online

Authors: Kristen Ashley

Tags: #Romance, #private detective, #contemporary romance, #crime

Golden Trail (21 page)

“DeeDee, come here,” he said softly and her
head shot back.

“I saw,” she whispered.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head and looked down at her
bag and, slowly, she straightened.

She had grace, she was in tune with her
body, but she wasn’t fluid.

She turned to look at him.

“I didn’t get it, I didn’t understand why
you… with me, why you wouldn’t…” She shook her head and took in a
deep breath then continued. “I looked through your stuff. I found
the envelope. I saw the pictures. I know who that woman is.”

Layne’s anger had ebbed out of him but it
came back, slicing through him like a blade.

He didn’t speak because he couldn’t without
yelling.

“Some of them had her name on the back,” she
whispered. “Rocky.”

“That was not cool,” he said low.

“I know,” she replied quietly then tilted
her head to the side. “Are you back with her?”

“No. We’re workin’ a case together.”

“She’s a detective?”

“She’s a teacher.”

She stared at him a second, thrown, then she
smiled and it wasn’t a happy smile.

“A teacher,” she whispered.

“DeeDee –”

“Even with that case with that drug guy who
shopped at my store, you didn’t let me work it with you and I
begged you to let me help.”

“That wasn’t safe.”

“Is this?” she asked but she knew. She’d
called a couple of weeks after he was shot and he’d told her
because he figured she’d eventually know. Since he’d left LA, she
visited him during her vacations and he definitely didn’t wear a
shirt the entire time she was there. Even though she couldn’t know
it was the same case, she sure as fuck knew his work wasn’t always
a trip through the light fantastic. “You want to be with her,” she
surmised.

“It isn’t like that,” he returned.

“Yeah?” She tipped her head again and then
pointed to the floor. “A girl knows, Tanner, and during that scene,
you didn’t take your eyes off her. And after it, you went after
her. You told me to get dressed then you went after her.”

“She just fell to the fuckin’ floor,
Melody,” he reminded her, crossing his arms on his chest.

She stared him in the eyes then she
whispered, “You went after her.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he clipped.

She bent double and grabbed the handle to
her bag, lifting it up, she hooked it on her arm and walked to
him.

Her hand came up, fingers fiddling with the
lapel on his jacket, her eyes watching them.

“I knew this would look good on you,” she
whispered. “But then, anything would look good on you.”

“DeeDee.”

“What’s in those bags,” she jerked her head
back to indicate his room, “they’re for you.”

He uncrossed his arms and both hands went to
her waist. “DeeDee,” he murmured and her eyes lifted to his as her
hand came to his neck.

“I hope you get her back.” She was still
whispering and Layne’s hands got tight on her waist. “In those
pictures, you looked happy. Even when you’re laughing, you don’t
look completely happy, but in those pictures…” She stopped and her
fingers squeezed his neck. “I hope you get her back and she makes
you happy like that again.”

Then she pulled away from his hands and
walked to the stairs and, when she did, Rocky’s face came back into
his head.

So Layne stood there and listened to the
front door slam.

Then he heard her car door slam.

Then he heard her car driving away.

And he let her go.

 

 

Chapter Eight

You Fit

 

“Do you get it?” Rocky whispered in his
ear.

He was on top of her, still inside her, all
four of her limbs wrapped tight around him, skin against skin, her
body soft underneath him.

“Get what, baby?” he whispered back.

Her limbs squeezed.

“Why I left you?”

* * * * *

Layne’s eyes opened.

He was on his stomach in his bed in his dark
room.

He rolled to his back, muttering,
“Christ.”

* * * * *

His back was to the weight bench, feet to
the floor, he cocked his elbows, taking the weights down then, on
an exhale through his teeth, Layne pushed them up.

Tripp came out of his room and Layne’s head
turned to the side. He saw his son scratching his ass and shuffling
to the bathroom.

“Hey Dad,” he mumbled.

Layne cocked his elbows, “Hey Tripp,” then
he pressed the weights up.

He heard the bathroom door close.

* * * * *

Showered, shaved, Layne stood at the island
watching Tripp sitting opposite him eating his fourth donut, his
eyes across the room on the TV. Blondie, Layne knew even though he
couldn’t see her, was lying at the foot of Tripp’s stool licking up
powdered sugar residue that fell from Tripp’s donut onto the
floor.

Layne held his cell to his ear and heard for
the third time that morning, “You’ve reached Rocky’s voicemail…
leave me a message.”

He flipped his phone shut and muttered,
“Fuck.”

Tripp’s eyes came to him. “What?”

“Nothin’, Pal.”

Layne looked at the clock over the
microwave. It was ten after ten. They were supposed to be at her
old place at ten. She was supposed to be at his house at twenty to
ten. She had the boxes in the back of her Merc, they were taking
the Suburban.

She didn’t show.

Layne tagged his keys off the counter and
told Tripp, “I gotta get to Rocky’s. We gotta do something at her
old place. I don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll be home by the
Colts game.”

Tripp was still looking at him and asked,
“Where’s Melody?”

Layne had started to turn to leave, he
stopped, looked his son in the eye and answered, “She’s gone,
Tripp.”

Tripp kept looking at him. Then he asked,
“Gone gone?”

“Gone gone,” Layne confirmed.

Tripp nodded and murmured, “I liked
her.”

“I did too, Pal.”

Tripp nodded again, swallowed and looked at
the TV. Then he whispered, “Like Rocky better.”

“Tripp –” he started to warn.

Tripp’s eyes came fast to him. “I know what
it is but you two fit.”

Layne stared at his son, thrown. “We
fit?”

“She does what she believes in too,” Tripp
explained.

“What?” Layne asked softly.

“All the work you do for people. Dina
Kempler’s Dad, he was a jerk, her Mom couldn’t get rid of him,
jackin’ her around all the time even though they’re divorced and
you helped. She told me. She told me her Mom found out about you
because you helped her Mom’s friend too. You’re practically famous
at my school. You don’t think kids talk?”

He knew kids talked he just didn’t know Dina
Kempler’s Mom Kim would talk to her daughter about
that.

“Tripp, don’t –”

“Mrs. As… I mean Rocky, she spends a whole
week making kids listen to rock music. She says lyrics are poetry.
She says some of the greatest storytellers are rock stars. They
tried to get her to stop but she fought and she won and they still
listen to music. It’s not the same but it is. You know? You fit.
Melody sells clothes. Her clothes are sweet and she’s nice but you
and Melody, you don’t fit.”

Layne studied his son knowing his boy was
sharp but thinking he’d vastly underestimated him.

But he couldn’t have this conversation now.
Not that he ever wanted to have it but he couldn’t have it now.

“I gotta get to Rocky, Pal,” Layne said
quietly.

After he said those words, Tripp eyes stayed
locked to his.

Then he grinned. “Tell her I said hi.”

Yes, he’d vastly underestimated Tripp.

Layne grinned back and headed to the
garage.

He was about to pull out when Jasper came
tearing through the garage door wearing a wife beater and
sweatpants that had been cut off at the knees, what he wore to bed.
His hair was a mess, sleep still in his eyes but his manner seemed
urgent.

“Dad!” he shouted and Layne put the truck in
neutral and set the parking brake.

Jasper raced to the passenger side door,
climbed up and settled in, slamming the door.

“God! Glad I caught you. I heard the door go
up and –”

“Jas, I need to get to Rocky’s.”

Jasper nodded then said, “You were busy with
work yesterday and I didn’t know how important this was so I didn’t
want to bug you but I thought you’d wanna know.”

Layne felt his neck muscles contract. “Know
what?”

“Know that before Tripp and I took off for
the game, some guy came over. He was over for, like, one second but
Stew gave him one of those yellow envelopes, the ones with thick
paper, but it was small, like a normal envelope and it was stuffed
full. The flap was folded in so I couldn’t see what was in it but
it was
stuffed full,
Dad.”

Shit.

“You get a good look at this guy?”

Jasper nodded again. “You said, if I got a
bad vibe, I should tell you and this guy, he was Mr. Bad Vibe.”

Fucking
shit.

Jasper went on. “Tall, big pot belly, black
hair, white dude. He was wearing sunglasses and it was dark, Dad.
And he was wearing a lot of gold. Necklaces. A couple of rings. And
he had piercings, the top of his left ear, both earlobes and the
left side of his bottom lip.”

“You ever see him before?” Layne asked.

“Nope,” Jasper answered.

“Never, not anywhere?” Layne pushed.

“No, Dad.”

Layne nodded. “Good work, Bud.”

Layne could swear he saw Jasper’s chest
expand.

Then Jasper asked, “Do you know him?”

Yeah, Layne knew him. He also knew that Stew
bet the dogs and obviously wasn’t any good at it.

“Yeah,” Layne answered.

“Am I right? Is he Mr. Bad Vibe?”

Jas was right. Carlito was Mr. Bad Vibe and
it wasn’t a good sign a loan shark was showing up at the house to
make collections.

“You see this guy again, Jasper, you’re
invisible, so’s your brother.”

“What about Mom?”

“Was your Mom there?”

“No, she was still at work.”

“You tell me if he ever shows and your
mother is there, yeah? In fact, you tell me if you ever see him
again at all, I don’t care where you are.”

Jasper nodded. Then he asked, “Will you…” he
paused, “will you take care of it?”

Layne nodded. “Yeah, Jas. I’ll take care of
it.”

“You’ll take care of Mom?”

Layne drew breath into his nose. Then he
answered, “I’ll take care of your Mom.”

That golden light came into his son’s eyes
and he whispered, “Thanks Dad.”

Jasper started to turn to the door but Layne
caught him by calling his name and Jas turned back. “How was your
date with Keira last night?”

Jas was playing it cool. During pizza, he’d
asked her but waited until the next Saturday to take her out. Last
night was their second date. That didn’t mean they didn’t text each
other seven hundred times a day and hang together during pizza
after subsequent games but they met there then Jasper took her
home. He was playing it cool, his kid was good.

A slow smile spread on Jasper’s face and,
watching it widen, Layne knew exactly how the date went.

Then, surprising him, Jasper shared. “She’s
a nut. She cracks me up. She’ll do anything, say anything. But I
reckon I gotta keep on my toes. When I say she’ll do anything and
say anything, she’ll do
anything
and say
anything.

Layne knew by the look on his boy’s face that this was in no way a
bad thing. Jasper’s smile changed before he went on. “It’s good she
hooked up with me, she such a nut, she needs a badass to take her
back.”

Layne chuckled.

Even at his age, Jasper had serious
experience with girls but Jasper had no idea what he was up against
with Keira. Layne hadn’t spent a lot of time around Keira Winters
but he figured his son was not wrong and therefore Joe Callahan’s
life was likely a living hell with that teenaged spitfire in it. If
Cal got it that Jasper was taking his girl’s back, Jasper wouldn’t
have any problems with Cal. Fuck, Cal might even be grateful to
share the load.

“When’re you goin’ out with her again?”
Layne asked.

“I thought, if you’re cool with it, and
Rocky’s cool with it, I could ask her over for pasta bake this
week, sometime Rocky’s here. Keira totally digs Rocky. She thinks
she’s the bomb. I’d score huge if I made her dinner when Rocky was
here.”

He
would
score huge with that. The
problem was, after what happened last night, Layne wasn’t certain
Raquel Merrick Astley was even in the country.

Even so, Layne muttered, “I’ll have a word
with Roc.”

“Thanks Dad.”

Then Jasper didn’t delay in throwing open
the door and jumping out of the truck. But he treated Layne to a
half wave before he disappeared into the house.

Layne stared at the door to the garage for a
few beats after he lost sight of his son realizing that Jasper just
shared, he’d done it without any coaxing or pushing and he’d done
it openly.

Layne drew in breath then smiled as he
backed his truck out of the garage.

He drove to Rocky’s, punching in the alarm
code at the gate hoping they hadn’t changed it. They hadn’t. He
drove to her unit and saw all three parking spots for apartment
three were empty. He nevertheless swung into one, exited his SUV,
jogged across the pavement and up the steps to her door. He pressed
the buzzer and waited. Then he did it again. Then he knocked. No
show, he didn’t even hear movement in the house.

Slowly, the tranquility he’d felt after his
talk with Jasper fading, another less enjoyable feeling invading,
he walked back down the steps, pulling his cell out of the back
pocket of his jeans and he called Dave.

“Hello?”

“It’s Layne.”

“Well, hey there, son,” Dave greeted.

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