Where There's Smoke (20 page)

Smoke looked at Vianca, she was still angry and glared at him. “Lieutenant Garcia handled the murder case in Big Lakes. I told you about that. It's still open, but they had some information and she shared it with us.” His tone was neutral, as was his facial expression.

“Wow, personal service, must be nice,” Vianca sneered. “Most people just get a phone call or an email.” She chuckled at the beet red face of the Lieutenant. “Your company must rate pretty high.” She looked at him, ignoring the slight smile on his lips. “At any rate, I needed to drop Denise off and get on the road.” Turning, she walked off. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Garcia.” She didn't look back as she got into her car and cranked it. Denise ran and jumped in.

“I hope you weren't trying to leave me,” she huffed, quieting at the look on Vianca's face. “What's wrong? What happened?”

Vianca shook her head, refusing to say anything. She commanded the tears to remain locked up until later. She'd made a fool of herself. What possessed her to approach Smoke and the woman? It was obvious the woman was attracted to him. They probably had a history.

“Tell me this at least,” Denise demanded. “Are you going to be all right?” Vianca swallowed hard and nodded. She had no idea, this was beyond her reality. Minutes later they pulled in front of the office, Denise sat in the front seat.

“Vee,” she said.

Vianca closed her eyes from the pain and humiliation that welled up within her. She didn't fight over men, over anything actually. She'd always thought it was counter-productive. If a man wanted someone else, let him go. She'd felt that way about every divorce detail she'd worked. Had never understood why anyone would want additional proof of infidelity, or want to confront it head on. Her heart raced as understanding dawned. Sometimes you do it for you, so you know with certainty you've done everything on your part to make the relationship work. It makes the break cleaner, if not easier.

“Vee...Vianca!” Denise pushed her shoulder, gaining her attention.

“I don't want to talk about it.” She fought to keep it together while she fell apart.

“I know. But if you aren't up to driving tonight, you can come stay with me and leave tomorrow.”

Vianca shook her head. No. She could barely face herself; she wanted this episode of her life behind her. “I'm okay.” She offered a shaky smile to the intuitive Denise.

“You're lying. You ain’t okay. But like the good friend I am, I'll let it slide.” She opened the door. “I don't have many friends, and I count you one of my best. It happened quickly, but something ‘bout dodging bullets together brings people close real quick.” She smiled, tears forming in her eyes. “Don't be a stranger, if things don't work out between you and Smoke, you can still return for a visit or I can visit you. Promise me that.”

Tears ran down Vianca's cheek. “I promise,
Chica
.” The women embraced.

Denise wiped the tears from her face and smiled.

“See you soon, okay?” She searched Vianca's face and she knew no matter the cost to her personally, she'd stay in touch and return to see her friend.

“Yes, soon. Now go. I want to reach home before dark.” Denise smiled and got out. The drive to Smoke's to pick up her things seemed to go on forever. There was an accident, road construction. She castigated herself for not throwing her few things into the truck when she left to return Denise. Finally, she pulled up and froze. Smoke's truck was out front.

Smoke watched Vianca walk away, mesmerized by the swaying hips in the tight jeans. She had a nice ass so he didn't begrudge the men who stopped and watched her departure. Like a queen walking through her court, she didn't acknowledge anybody.

“She's going to be a handful. You think you can handle her?” Smoke had forgotten the Lieutenant stood next to him. She'd moved closer, spoke softly near his ear.

“I think I can manage,” he said noncommittally before facing her. He searched her face and saw the disappointment before she blanked her face. They looked at each other, neither spoke.

“Well, I need to get back to the office,” she said briskly, returning to police mode. “I hope that information helps close some holes for you guys. As I said, we've arrested the deceased’s boyfriend, he's admitted to the crime. So, for all intents and purposes, we won't need anything from your company.” She walked off. Smoke walked with her in silence, thinking about Vee and didn't hear the Lieutenant's last words.

“I'm sorry, what'd you say?”

She laughed, although it lacked warmth and humor. “Nothing important. Good luck.” She walked off in the opposite direction. He watched her for a moment and turned. Red and Ross walked toward him. He stopped, waiting.

“What's up?”

“Vianca's leaving today,” Ross said.

Smoke nodded, surprised at the sting of pain in his chest. “Yeah, she told me last night.”

“You okay with that?” Ross asked, which surprised Smoke. Ross was the least invasive person he knew. He rarely asked personal questions because he was an intensely private person himself. He almost lost Cherise behind his closed mouth.

“I'm not sure if I am, but she wants to go.” He shrugged. They looked at him. “Okay, I'm not ready for her to leave. I like having her around. But I'm not sure what I'm ready for.”

“So ask her to stay until the two of you figure out what you want,” Red said. Smoke wanted to laugh. Red was the last person he'd take relationship advice from. He'd lost his woman and finally manned up to ask the mother of his children to marry him.

“I don't know everything about women, obviously. But I can tell when a woman's into me, or into someone else.” Red paused, having gauged Smoke's reaction to his advice correctly. “I'm telling you, she's into you.”

“I know.” He placed both hands into his pocket, thinking.

“More importantly,” Ross said in that quiet way of his. “You're into her. I've never seen you like this over a woman. She clicks for you. It's hard to describe or figure out why she’s the one. That may take years. But don't be an ass and let her go. She's a good woman and somebody’s going to snatch her up. Love on her. It should be you.” Smoke stared at Ross and then glanced at Red.

“Go home,” Red said softly pushing him in the direction of his truck. “We got this. Talk to her. Ask her to stay.”

Smoke's feet moved toward his truck. He stopped. “What about the information from Garcia?”

“It'll keep ‘til tomorrow.” Ross shrugged.

“This is more important,” Red said waving him off. “Go.”

Vianca entered the condominium, her heart in her throat. What was Smoke doing here? If he came to blow her out for what she said to his lady friend, he could just kiss her ass. She placed the keys on the hook and went to get her bags. They weren't where she left them by the living room entryway. Frowning she retraced her steps to the foyer, searched the hallway and then headed to the bedroom. Smoke lay shirtless on top of the bed. She glanced around for her bags. Nothing.

“I need to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

Since he'd hidden her belongings, he knew she wouldn't be leaving immediately. “Sure, what's on your mind,” she said flippantly and leaned against the door frame. He smiled and sat up. For a moment neither spoke. She watched his face. He seemed nervous. Curious, she straightened and really looked at him. Sweat beaded his brow, his jaw appeared tight. Her stomach dropped as her imagination went into overdrive. She moved forward. “What's wrong?” She bent down in front of him, holding his eyes. His mouth moved, but no words issued forth. Her sense of dread increased at the panic she read in his eyes.

“Papi.” She cupped his cheeks. “Talk to me,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, moistened his lips and whispered, “I don't want you to leave. Can you stay?”

Her mouth dropped. Of all the things she'd imagined, that wasn't on the list. She punched him and stood. “You scared the shit out of me.” Pivoting, she pointed at him. “Asking me to stay caused you this much distress? This kind of pain?”

“
I'm not sure what you're going to say. So yeah, it's hard to ask.” Her brows rose at his inane explanation.

“You're kidding, right?” He stared at her. “You're an asshole. Wanting me shouldn't send you into a panic. Why the hell are you doing this?” She wrapped her arms around her waist not understanding what was going on. He moved and walked to her.

“You haven't answered me.” He watched her.

“Why do you want me to stay?” she countered.

He sighed and smiled. “I like you?”

“You've liked me from day one. But you didn't ask me to stay before. What happened to your ‘date but no cohabitate’ rule?”

“I threw it out.” He stepped closer.

She moved back. “When? When did you throw it out?” Her heart thumped hard.

He wore a naughty grin as he stalked her like the wolf in Red Riding Hood. “When you moved in.”

Her back hit the wall. He placed his palms beside her head and stared at her lips. “Don't leave me.”

His husky voice went straight to her pussy, it wept in relief.

“I can't, I can't share you. I...uh don't do that well. Monogamous, Smoke. I need exclusive rights to you,” she whispered, amazed she could think, let alone speak through the haze of lust filling her.

He kissed her cheeks and throat lightly. “I can handle that. Besides, the thought of another man tasting you sealed the deal. I can't handle that at all.” He kissed her, ravishing her mouth thoroughly, robbing her thoughts.

Her knees buckled, she held onto him and rode the storm of his passion.

“Mine, got that?” he demanded against her lips.

She nodded, too flustered to speak. She squeaked as he picked her up and carried her to bed.

Chapter 22

Red, Ross and Smoke pulled up to the office building in off Highway 69 near Lansing. They'd left the crew at the sites while they investigated the information the Lieutenant had given them. After reviewing the data, they realized why the police would never act on it. Most was circumstantial and the culprits had covered their tracks well. If their suspicions were correct, in a few minutes they'd come face to face with the head person who'd stolen the identity of their company. Of the three of them, Ross was the only one licensed to carry a firearm and he'd made sure he strapped it on. They'd come in his Mercedes, dressed in suits, looking every inch successful businessmen. No one would have guessed Red had a pair of steel knuckles in his pocket or that he carried his long blade. Somebody was going to give up some answers today. No matter what, this shit needed to end.

They entered the lobby at different intervals. Red took the stairs to the second floor. Ross took the elevator and Smoke investigated the first floor. He counted the number of occupied offices, how many people might need to be evacuated and memorized the location of all emergency exits. Afterward, he took the elevator to the second floor. His partners had checked this floor and stood near the office door. Ross walked in first, but didn't close the door tight so they could hear the conversation.

“Hello.”

“Well, hello,” the feminine voice said with a hint of excitement. “Can I help you?” It was obvious what type of help she'd like to give him.

“I just need some information on having a home built.” There was a slight pause, some papers shuffling. Smoke looked at Red. Had asking blown the deal?

“Sure, if you could tell me who referred you to our company, Mister?” The voice changed, and held a note of suspicion. Smoke knew this wasn't going to end well. Ross could front for a minute, but had zero tolerance for bullshit. This was going to come to a screeching halt any minute. Smoke palmed his knife in preparation.

“Brown,” Ross snapped. “I saw the placard downstairs.” He paused. “What kind of business are you running that I can't ask a question? You know what, forget it. Something’s wrong here. Have you joined the Better Business Bureau? Is that why I need a referral for information?”

Smoke looked at Red, impressed by Ross's outrage. “No, no, Mister Brown. I assure you our company has impeccable standards. You can look us up on the web, or contact the BBB, they'll tell you of our stellar reputation.” Her tone became conciliatory.

“I'll do that before I deal any further with you,” he snapped. “Give me the information.” A pause. “Three X Construction, I read something about that in the papers.”

“A minor disagreement, it's been cleared up. I'll have Mister Towling, the owner, come talk to you.” Another pause. “Mister Brown would like to talk to you about constructing a home.” She hung up. “He'll be up momentarily, please have a seat, Mister Brown.” Smoke sent Lieutenant Garcia and Special Agent Whiteside a text. After arguing for an hour about how to handle the outcome, they'd decided the only way to clear their name was to use the justice system. And since that was the desired end result, their personal grudges were swept to the side. But, if things got ugly, then all bets were off and they'd kick asses or die trying.

Smoke and Red moved into the stairwell as the elevator hummed. Red placed the brass knuckles on his hand. Smoke removed his blade. They stared out the glass partition to see who'd caused them so much grief. The man walked with a confident swagger to the door, popped in a breath mint and opened the door. Smoke saw the back of his head but didn't recognize him. He looked at Red, who shrugged, just as confused.

“You!” A deep voice shouted. Smoke and Red ran into the office, stopped short at the sight of Ross holding a gun on the man on the ground. Red stomped over, grabbed the man by the collar and hauled him up.

“Shit,” Smoke said shocked. Red spun the man around and almost dropped Mr. Frenche on the ground.