Close To The Heart (Westen Series Book 5) Page 12

  Duncan did lean back, lifted one leg and hurled the ball toward the catcher, hitting the mitt with a thud.

  “He did it!” Lexie said. Then she turned her attention to the other field and pointed. “Look, it’s Geoff’s turn!”

  Geoff was positioned between second and first. The coach hit the ball his way, and he scooped up into his glove and made a quick turn to first.

  Melissa clapped and turned to Glenna. “That was good, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. He’s got a nice throwing arm. He’s played before?”

  Melissa shrugged. “He said he hadn’t played since little league. Trent and Bryan said they played then, too.”

  “And the fourth boy?” Maggie asked.

  Melissa pointed to what looked like a huge cage set up to the side. “That’s Colt taking a turn at hitting. He’s very nervous. Said he’d never played a game.”

  “And he’s trying out today?”

  “The four of them have bonded. I think he wanted to try because the others were. I hope he does well.”

  Maggie laid her hand on Melissa’s knee. “It’s never too late to learn. Andre, the tall young man standing to the side, is the hitting coach. He helped Tre learn to be a good hitter. And Thomas, the man hitting to the guys on the field? He’s a retired steel worker, but he is great at getting the boys to focus and field like major leaguers.”

  “Your boys are in good hands out there,” Glenna said, easing a little of the worry Melissa had been fighting all day.

  She’d worried from the time the boys left for school. What if none of them made the team? Would it make them targets for bullies in the school? All four had already faced bullies in their lives one way or another. What if only one of them or all but one of them made the team? Would it change the dynamics within the foursome and within Westen House? Worse, what if one of them, poor Colt who had never played ball before, was so bad the other kids started teasing him? Would her other three boys defend him or join in?

  A crack of the bat sounded from the batting cage, and cheering went up all around.

  That batting cage is really cool!” Colt said between bites of his pizza, Saturday evening after the second day of try-outs were completed.

  Melissa had suggested to the four hyped-up-on-adrenaline-and-perpetually-starving teens that they try out the new pizza place. The six of them were crowded into a curved booth with two giant meat lovers and one small cheese pizza in front of them.

  “You were connecting with those fast balls like you played little league for years,” Trent said, reaching for another slice.

  Colt shook his head. “Nope, never got to play as a kid.”

  “How were you hitting so good then?” Bryan asked.

  The youngest of them shrugged. “Guess I was so used to seeing my old man’s fist come at me, anticipating it, I just kept my eye on the ball.”

  The boys all laughed, and Melissa smiled, but inside she cringed thinking of how Colt and the others had lived their lives before coming to Westen House. Even Geoff, who had very well-off parents with lucrative professions seemed to react as if he’d seen his fair share of beatings.

  “I liked when the crack sounded,” Lexie said beside her.

  “That means the barrel of the bat connected with the ball. The barrel is the big part,” Trent said, lifting up the bat Daniel had given the boys two nights before to show her what he was talking about. He curled one hand around the thin part. “The handle you hold is this part down here with the knob. When the thick part hits the ball just perfect, you get the big crack. Got it?”

  Lexie nodded with big eyes and he set the bat back down at his feet. “You know a lot about baseball.”

  “Nah, he just Googled it last night,” Bryan said, with an elbow at his friend’s side. “He’s always hogging the house computer to look stuff up.”

  “Computers are good for things other than video games.” Trent gave him a return elbow, but with a grin.

  “I thought that’s why you liked working at the bookstore?” Geoff said. “You can look stuff up and not have to borrow the book from the library.”

  Trent nodded as he swallowed his bite of pizza half-chewed. Melissa was beginning to think teenage boys ate all their food half-chewed and in huge amounts.

  “Well, yeah, there’s that. But sometimes it’s just easier to Google stuff. Quicker than searching through books.” He took a gulp of soda. “But I do like working at the bookstore. Found a book about Einstein the other day. Really cool.”

  Melissa winked at Geoff, who was hiding a smile. As the oldest, he’d taken on leader of the pack, and knew as she did, that Trent’s interests were far reaching and eclectic. The kid liked to talk engineering and politics, and now apparently baseball. Given enough time, he’d probably figure out the physics and analytical numbers of the game and how it influenced world politics.

  Time to change the subject before Trent took them into a conversation that would have them all feeling confused and unintelligent.

  “So, Colt, do you mind being on the junior varsity?” she asked, directing the conversation back to baseball. The other three had all made the varsity team—Geoff and Bryan on the outfield, and Trent as backup catcher—while Daniel had put Colt on the junior team.

  “Nah,” he said, wiping his mouth with the napkin and leaning back in the booth, apparently with a full stomach. “If it was just hittin’ the ball, I’d say I was good enough for the varsity…”

  “Yeah, you’re better than some of those guys who’ve been playin’ for years,” Bryan said, and Trent nodded along with him.

  “But seein’ how those guys like Tre handles the balls hit to ’em and knowing how to throw to the right base and making long throws like they do,” Colt continued, sitting a little taller at his friend’s compliment. “I’ve got a lot to learn about the game, so being on the JV team is a good call on the coach’s part.”

  “Glad you think so,” a deep voice sounded from behind them and everyone looked up to see Daniel standing there holding three pizza boxes.

  “Hey, Coach,” all four of the boys said, one right after the other. Each wanting to get a moment of his attention. Melissa couldn’t blame them. They’d spent so many years getting either no attention or demeaning attention from the male figures in their lives, that being with a man such as Daniel, who treated them with respect made them crave more. She felt the same way.

  “You gonna eat all those pizzas by yourself?” Trent asked and the others all laughed.

  “Nope. I have half the evening shift tonight and taking these in for the guys at the station. We’ve been working overtime. Thought they might be hungry.” His eyes grew a little weary and Melissa wanted to ask if the rumor she heard about two people found dead was what had him working extra but knew that wasn’t something he would talk about in public, even if he could.

  Quickly, Daniel covered his worry and focused on the youngest boy. “Colt, you keep working, practicing and learning everything you can, and next year you might make the Varsity squad.”

  “Yes, sir, Coach,” Colt said.

  “We can practice tomorrow.” Trent said and looked at Melissa. “After church, of course.”

  She nodded. One of the things she started doing when she’d moved into the Westen House, was attend church every Sunday morning. It wasn’t a rule for the boys to attend, but when they found out she’d stop at the Peaches ’N Cream afterwards for lunch, they were on board. Especially when their old house mate, Kyle, was working. Plus, Lorna had a standing offer for a free milkshake for any teen who attended a Sunday service at any church.

  “Gonna have to be in the evening,” Colt said. “I have to work at the Knobs & Knockers from one to four tomorrow.”

  “And I have a paint job out at one of the new houses in the subdivision off Spring street,” Geoff said.

  Bryan shook his head. “And I promised Henry and Miss Mags that I’d be in to the Petal Pushers to clean to make up for missing work today.”

  “Maybe
I’ll stop by and give you some pointers before I head into work,” Daniel said.

  “I can make dinner early,” Melissa offered. “If you’d like to join us. Then the boys can practice afterwards, and you’d still make it to work.”

  Daniel’s gaze met hers and she prayed she wouldn’t blush at the light in his eyes. “I’d like that very much.”

  Lexie pulled on her sleeve, breaking the contact with the handsome deputy. She leaned down to hear the little girl. “What do you need, sweetie?”

  “Can you make fried chicken?” She looked up at Daniel and grinned. “Miss Melissa makes the bestest fried chicken.”

  “You sure about that?” he said with one eye narrowed. “Pete over at the café makes some good fried chicken.”

  Lexie nodded, her face very serious. “Yes, sir, Deputy Dan, but not as good as Miss Melissa’s.”

  “Guess I’ll have to give it a try and see.” He gave Melissa a challenging look. “That is if she’s up to making some.”

  “Fried chicken it is,” she said sitting straighter and with a tilt of her chin challenging him right back.

  11

  What happened?” Snubnose asked, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “I don’t know, man,” the overweight accountant sat on the side of the bed in his half-open suit pants—as if putting on some clothes would make the situation better—slumped over his spread thighs, his hands holding his head. “The others took off…I had to let you know…There’s so much blood…Oh God!”

  The drug dealer pimp walked over and slapped the other man’s head. Then slapped it again. “Get a grip, Derek. You were man enough to gang bang her. Be a man and tell me what happened.”

  “That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell you, Snub. The guys got bad. They started fighting. She was bleeding.”

  “While you were fucking her?”

  The older man shook his head. “No, we’d been going at it for a while. Took a break. One of the others got out a packet of smack to snort. Then it all got out of control. She got a little wild. Never saw anyone react like that. Screaming and throwing herself at Walt. Out of her mind.”

  Shit. Someone had used H laced with PCP. That was the only excuse for his normally submissive Rose to go crazy. They’d brought dope from someone other than him. He never used that crap to cut his product.

  “Paul had to hit her to get her to calm down. Then he kept hitting and she was biting him. Then Bill pulled her off. She hit the wall.” He raised his terror-filled-half-glazed eyes at him, holding his hands out like some punk kid swearing his innocence, tears rolling down his cheeks. “But I didn’t touch her, then. I swear I didn’t.”

  “Where is she?” He wasn’t liking how this was sounding at all. Last thing he needed was the cops involved in a gang bang gone wrong and a dead whore.

  Derek whipped his arm out to point with a shaky hand to the bathroom. “She’s in there.”

  Snubnose approached the closed door carefully. The metallic scent of blood hit his nose hard. He gulped in air and stepped back, swallowing hard the bile that rose in the back of his throat. With a slow deep breath, he straightened his spine and headed in, prepared to find a dead body.

  Blood left a trail across the tiles past the vanity sink, and the toilet. A pile of bloody clothes lay on the floor, tattered as if someone had rent them off her body. The shower curtain was pulled shut, bloody fingerprints lacing the edge.

  A moan sounded from the other side of the curtain, echoing against the tiles.

  Tension fled Snubnose’s body as he exhaled. He wasn’t going to lose an asset. At least not yet. And more importantly for the immediate moment, he wasn’t going to have to carry a dead body out of the high-end hotel.

  He scooped the curtain back and stared at the battered, bloodied mess of a human being. The large rose tattoo on her hip the only thing identifying her.

  “Shit,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. Think. Think. What to do first? He hurried over to the sink, turned the water on lukewarm and shoved a towel into the sink to soak it. He stuck his head out the bathroom door and eyed the rest of the room.

  Stalking over to the customer still huddled over his knees on the edge of the bed, he grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet. “Get a grip. You’ll be all over the news if they find her this room a bloody wreck.”

  “I didn’t do this. I told you.”

  The whimpering mass in front of him looked nothing like the Chief Financial Officer of the law firm who tried to bull-dog him with all his wealth and social status. He’d tolerated the derogatory way Derek treated him because the man’s need for prostitutes and drugs had steadily grown over time, increasing his spending and lining the pockets of Snubnose’s boss. At some point the money man’s connections in the legal world were going to come in handy, too. If he didn’t need the man’s help at the moment, he might enjoy his discomfiture.

  However, handling the present situation without any police or curious hotel owners getting wind of the problem, was more important. Snubnose learned early on working for the boss, no drama, no publicity, no police…and you got to keep breathing.

  “Dude, the sooner we get her cleaned up and out of here, the sooner you can put this behind you. Got me?”

  The other man nodded.

  “Pull me off the top sheet and finished getting dressed. You’re gonna have to help me get her out of here.”

  “Me?” The man stumbled back, barely staying on his feet. “She’s your whore.”

  “And you’re the one on the security camera checking in with her.” He got in the guy’s face. “Tell me you listened and paid cash for the room, no credit card.”

  Wide-eyed, the man nodded as the words hit home. If she died in here, the accountant was going down for it. Not his guests he’d invited for the little party. Not Snubnose. He wasn’t here when they did this and had come up the back service elevator, thanks to the security guard he had on his payroll, to avoid the security cameras—he always knew where they were in any hotel he used. Just the accountant was on tape being with the girl.

  “Good. Do what I say and we might just keep you out of this.”

  He squeezed all the water from the towel, threw in another and squatted next to the tub. When he tried to wipe the blood from her forehead, her hand shot out, broken nails aimed at his face. With a curse he backed up, grabbing her hand an inch from making contact.

  “Hey, Rosie, it’s me. Gary,” he said with a murmur, like he’d seen a dog trainer calm a pit bull once. “Easy, girl.”

  Careful to keep her hand to one side, he inched in closer, letting the warm cloth lie against the side of her face. The warmth of the cloth or the sound of his voice, he wasn’t sure which, must’ve sunk through to her, because she suddenly went limp. First her lips trembled, then her whole body took to shaking like a naked person in a snowstorm.

  “Hurt…hurt…hurt,” she murmured, tears rolling down her cheeks to mix with the blood caked on them.

  “I know. I’ll give you something to make it better. But first I have to get you cleaned up and out of here. Okay, baby?” He kept his voice calm and soothing as he cleaned her face then her shoulders and arms, not because he really cared about her, but he needed to keep her calm and cooperative

  Finally, after switching out the towels a few times, he had her face clean and could see most of the cuts were clotted and no longer actively bleeding. He looked over to see Derek standing in the doorway, holding the sheet.

  “Get everything of hers and yours together, any H still left, flush it down the toilet.”

  “Why? The shit’s expensive,” the idiot said as if he wanted to keep it to party with later.

  Gary fought the urge to make the man snort all of what was left. “Because, you fuck. Whoever you bought it from laced it with PCP. That shit can kill you straight up or make you jump off the top of this hotel.”

  “Shit!” Derek pulled two packets out of his pocket and flushed them down the toilet, complet
e with plastic bags.

  “Now get the rest of the stuff, while I get her out of the tub.”

  Eventually, with the client’s help, he got the bathroom cleaned up then Rosie out of the hotel and into his car. Once she was settled, he sent the guy off with a bag of H to keep him quiet. He’d also taken some pictures when the moron wasn’t looking. Never knew when evidence might be needed as insurance.

  He glanced over at Rosie’s body huddled in the backseat of his car. Now he had a decision to make. She’d gone from being an asset to a liability hanging around his neck. In fact, the only useful part of her was that kid, the cute little blonde, all alone in the world if something happened to her mother.

  As he drove down the road, a plan formed in his head.

  12

  A thud sounded as the ball smacked into the leather mitt. Geoff turned and threw to Colt. Again, the thud of leather sounded. This time with clapping from Lexie, who was seated on the back porch watching along with Melissa.

  The weather had turned warmer than expected. After a lunch in which Daniel had agreed with Lexie that Melissa made some of the finest fried chicken he’d ever had—and making her blush at the compliment—he’d been surprised at how quickly and peacefully all five kids helped clean up after the meal. He’d noted the list of rules on one wall, and the list of monthly chores posted right beside it. If they’d gone by the list only, Colt would’ve been the only one helping Melissa in the kitchen, as it was his turn. But they’d worked together, quickly cleaning up so they all could get some practice in. Another thing Melissa had taught the boys, teamwork.

  “Good job. Now move back a few more feet,” Daniel said.

  The foursome had been playing catch for about fifteen minutes, starting in a six-foot square that he kept lengthening. Colt might not have played ball as a kid like the other three teens, but he definitely had some natural ability and a strong throwing arm. He still had a lot to learn and would remain on the junior varsity team this season.