Big Girls Don't Cry (5 page)

The chief reared up. “Dammit, Jake, you know we can’t do that. This is an ongoing investigation into a fucking undercover operation. Antony was getting close, damn close. The last time we talked his eyes were gleaming. Said it would be a matter of days before we’d get a break in the case. We can’t have a private citizen, an overwrought young woman at that, sticking her nose in critical police business.”

Jake raised an eyebrow and drawled, “Unless I’m mistaken, and that ’overwrought’ young woman who raked you over the coals an hour ago, was an aberration, you don’t have a choice, Chief. I’ve got a feeling Anthony and his sister share more than looks. Anthony would grab a rat by the tail and wrestle it to the ground until he could read every entrail splattered there. My sense is his sister’s got the same instincts.”

He held up his hand, stopping the chief’s protest. “Give her what she asked for, John. Redact anything confidential. There’s no reason she can’t see the witness list. Hell, she’ll likely know everyone on it before end of day tomorrow.”

~~~

Lexie hiked up her exercise bra and yanked on biker shorts. Unrolling a practice mat on the balcony of the shabby motel, she glided into the Kung Fu crane position. She forced herself to move slowly, gracefully, breathing into the demanding posture. She longed to drive her fists and feet into a punching bag, to find a sparring partner who fought as hard as she did. But she’d have to wait until she found a dojo close by, where she could go day or night. She didn’t know how long she would be in this dusty town, but even a day without a three hour strenuous practice left her with jangled nerves ready to claw out the eyes of the person closest to her.

She scoffed. Some martial artist she was. Calm? Centered? Detached? Like hell. She was wound tighter than a spring, every muscle twitching with the effort to be still. Her most difficult practice had always been the one she forced herself to do now. She breathed in and out, slow deep breaths, oohming the word, detach. But it was no use. All her years of work with Master Wan to focus her energy, control her anger, use it as a positive fighting force, was gone. It died when Anthony did. Even pounding through a five mile speed run after she left the police station hadn’t helped. She needed a place where she could bury her anger in the unrelenting weight of the bag and slam the blocks. Where the warrior shrieks and screams of fellow fighters might help to calm her surging soul.

She made it through five of the rigorous poses before she gave in to her need to begin her mission. Heading to the shower, she tried to ignore the dirty carpet and threadbare bedspread and towels. She wondered if she should drag every piece of linen to a laundromat and dump in a bottle of bleach. She chided herself. Like she hadn’t been in shit holes before. Damn, she’d spent most of her early life in one or another. They’d been her natural habitat for years. She realized now that the aberration, the lack of reality, were the years she’d spent with Master Wan and Madam Juen. What a fool she had been. She’d begun to think that good could overcome evil. That if you worked hard enough, practiced long enough, life could be somewhat safe. That maybe there was a God. What a fucking lie. What a massive joke the universe had played on her. And she had gone along with it. She’d even thought she could protect the Jill’s of the world. Fuck that! She couldn’t even protect the person she loved more than anything in the world.

Ignoring the chipped tile and disgusting mildewed grout circling the battered tub, she turned the water on full force. Knowing in crap joints like this that the hot water wouldn’t last long, she damn well intended to get every drop. Five minutes later, she began to relax. The scorching water was still beating a skin reddening pattern on her back and she’d rinsed her hair three times. Fortunately, she’d been smart enough to pack the soaps and lotions and oils her body craved. For a few precious moments, she ignored the ragged background and reveled in the smell of lavender, citrus, and lemon grass.

But the steaming water didn’t drown out her memories of the last two days. Master Wan had begged her to wait, to let the police do their jobs. She didn’t deign to answer him. Leaving the devastated old people without a backward glance, she’d hit the road driving from San Francisco to Yuma in less than ten hours.

She’d been amazed at how easily that she had commandeered the investigative team supposedly working on Anthony’s case. She’d left Chief Burton a message the night before telling him that she wanted to meet with the team charged with finding her brother’s killer. Damned if they didn’t all show up. Of course, the red suit helped. She’d used it before and it always worked. God, men were so predictable. But once they’d finished ogling her breasts and her butt and realized that she was a hard ass, not a cream puff, they began to take her seriously.

She had to admit, the real turning point was when Jake--she corrected herself--when Special Agent Gardner, showed up. That was when the chief began to come around. She’d know tomorrow when she went to get her materials if he was going to cooperate. She grimaced. It was a good thing she didn’t care if the police were forthcoming or not. As before, she’d depend on one person and one person only--herself. Anything else was an unexpected bonus.

No question, she thought with a disdainful sniff, she could contain the police and brow beat them with guilt. More dangerous to her mission was the blue eyed, dark haired hunk. And, God, he was a hunk. He had to be 6’ 4”. In her three inch high heels, she stood five nine and he’d towered over her. Hovered would be a better description. She tried to squash the memory of him standing next to her, his kind eyes, gentle solicitous touch when she stumbled. And, damn, a grandmother called Winnie Mae. She shook her head with a grin, but quickly sobered. She knew the system better than anyone. The nice ones always disappointed, pulled out the rug, disappeared. At least with the scum, you knew where you stood. You knew you needed to protect yourself, never let your guard down.

Most difficult was the way Agent Gardner reminded her of Anthony. She closed her eyes tight, remembering big beautiful protective Anthony. She didn’t want another big beautiful protective man. She wanted Anthony. But he was dead. If she couldn’t have him, she would avenge him. She would find his killer and take him down as brutally as he took down Anthony.

~~~

An hour later, Lexie gazed at her reflection in the mirror with a satisfied smile. She turned and looked over her shoulder at her butt. The short swingy skirt flared just enough when she whirled to give an observer a teasing glimpse of her bare thighs. Her legs always looked good. Damn, they should. A minimum of twenty five hours a week of hard core training ought to do something. Of course, her knee high patent leather three inch heeled boots didn’t hurt either. The skin tight abbreviated tank top hugged her full breasts. She threaded the gold and silver dragon into her belly button ring and yanked the waistband of her skirt down over her hips. She’d learned years ago the power of her “assets” and never hesitated to use them to her advantage. But God help the man who misunderstood the rules of the game. That was when ten years of mixed martial arts training proved its power. Her motto: Assholes beware.

Smearing on one more coat of bright red gloss over her full lips, she shook out her long blond curls. They reached the middle of her back and swayed when she walked. The whole damn Yuma police force had been unable to turn up any clues. She gave herself a saucy wink. Maybe they didn’t have the right uniform.

Pulling the creaky motel door shut behind her, she scoffed at the laughable lock and traipsed down three flights of cement stairs. The moon was a golden crescent in the stark sky. That was one good thing about being away from her home refuge. Without a million city lights, every star in the sky gleamed bright, nothing competed with its sparkling light. Fingering the blade in the top of her boot and the one at her back, she hopped in her souped up Camaro and headed out to the streets to find Anthony’s killer.

Chapter 4

The meeting at Chief Burton’s office went better than she expected. At least his secretary had been cordial when she handed her a large sheaf of papers without protest.

“My name is Delores, honey. But most people call me Del,” the matronly looking woman behind the desk said with a kind smile. “You must be Anthony’s sister. Sheesh, you look enough like him to be his twin.” She frowned, the wrinkles around her eyes that years of smoking had planted, deepened.

“I sure hope you know, honey, how bad we all feel about your brother. He was the kindest man I ever met. Charmed us all. That smile. He was…”

Lexie broke in. “Thank you, Delores. I mean Del. Yes, I know how my brother affected people. Is Chief Burton in his office?”

Delores’s face reddened and for a split second, Lexie was embarrassed. There was no need for her to be rude to this woman. She was being kind. But she didn’t want to talk about Anthony with anyone. The only reason she was here was to get the materials she’d asked for.

“Good morning, Miss Beloi.”

Lexie turned at Chief Burton’s greeting. The corpulent man stood in the doorway. His face was stern, unsmiling. He stepped aside to allow her to enter.

“As much as I am permitted to give you.” He hesitated for a moment then added, “The autopsy report will be available tomorrow. Jake, Special Agent Gardner, has it, but said you could get it from him tomorrow.”

Lexie frowned. “Is there somewhere I can sit in private to review these materials? I want to see what is here and what is missing.”

An hour later, Lexie came out to the waiting room. Delores looked up with a questioning smile. Apparently not put off by Lexie’s earlier rudeness, she asked, “Did you find everything you needed, honey?”

Delores glanced at the list. Dismay crossed her face. “Golly, honey, the chief had to go to a meeting, or I’m sure he would give you these things you need.”

Not believing that for a moment, Lexie responded crisply, “I see. Please tell Chief Burton that I will be back tomorrow to get these items when I come to pick up the autopsy report.”

Discomfited at her rudeness to the woman who was clearly trying to be helpful, she turned at the doorway.

“Uh, thank you, Delores. I…I appreciate your help.” She added with a soft smile. “And yes, I agree, my brother was a charming man.”

~~~

Lexie had already decided that she would not seek out Special Agent Gardner. It was bad enough she would have to come back tomorrow to get the autopsy report. She gave a derisive snort. So much for making sure the chief gave her everything that she had asked for. He’d even shanghaied one of the critical documents for himself.

She was almost to her car when she heard him call out to her.

“Alexis, wait.”

Her hand was on the door handle and she fumbled with her keys. If she could get away without speaking to him, she would. But it was too late.

She turned to see him striding toward her across the parking lot. Tall, purposeful, and intent. Intent on stopping her

“Hey, Alexis, wait a minute.”

He was smiling a big generous smile that didn’t hide the concern darkening those astonishing blue eyes. When he reached the car, he stuck out his hand. When she refused it with a quick shake of her head, his smile turned to a small frown. He looked her over and apparently didn’t miss her resistance. When he spoke his voice was firm.

Lexie bit her lip, then shook her head and lifted her chin, a defiant gesture. “I didn’t want to talk to you – or anyone, and I still don’t.” She turned and put the key in the door wanting to leave, to go as fast as she could. She needed to get back to her room, to read through the reports, mostly to get away from this unsettling man. Her fingers were shaking and to her horror she dropped the keys.

Mortified by her clumsiness, she bent to pick up the keys that rolled under the car. She grabbed for them, but he was quicker. He reached under the car with one long arm and caught her with his other hand when she stumbled back. When they stood up, he was inches away from her. She tried to move back, to twist away from him, but he was too big.

Still holding her elbow with one hand, he reached down and tipped her chin up to meet his gaze.

“Alexis, relax. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. If you’re not up for talking now, we can do that later, when you are.”