Desperate Choices (14 page)

Max and Theresa drove around all the shops and fast-food restaurants within reasonable biking distance of the Freeman home, showing the pictures of Jacob and Tommy. So far, they’d come up dry. A couple people at the department stores remembered seeing Jacob, but having no jobs available, he’d left, apparently to continue his search.

By now it was late evening. They’d spent the entire day asking questions without coming up with any answers. Parking by the Brewery, they decided to walk back to Theresa’s place, taking those few moments to unwind.

Max had mentioned dinner, but Theresa declined, not really hungry and feeling a bit saddened at their lack of progress. She felt in her heart it was already too late to help Jacob, but Tommy could still be rescued, if they could just get the right answer to the right question.

Within a few minutes, they were in the heart of the French Quarter, the sounds of jazz spilling out into the streets from the clubs located up and down Charters and Bourbon Streets, catcalls echoing in the darkness from the sex clubs. A cool breeze carried the unique scents of New Orleans. Smells of magnolia and honeysuckle, faint and seductive, intermingled with the spicy aroma of Creole cooking and the salty brine wafting from the waters of the nearby river basin. These were the scents of home.

Turning the corner onto Theresa’s street, Max reached down and grasped her hand, wrapping it in his warm grip, squeezing her fingers gently. Raising their entwined hands, he pressed a kiss to her fingers. With just a few more steps, they reached her door.

Theresa stared into his eyes. In their depths she read his sadness. Not finding Tommy was eating him up. He tried to portray a stoic, guarded persona, to show the events playing out around him didn’t affect him, but she knew the real Max. He was hurting, and when he hurt, she hurt, too.

Sliding the key into the lock, she opened the door and walked inside, tugging him behind her. She didn’t switch on any lights but left the room awash in semi-darkness with just enough lights from the street beyond to be able to see. She flipped the lock and led him forward, through the store and up the stairs to her apartment.

Reaching the top step she turned to him, placed her trembling hands on his chest and met his gaze squarely. Her fingertips played with a button on the front of his shirt, plucking at it with her nails.

“Stay with me tonight. I need you.” Her voice came out in a sultry whisper, and the catch in Max’s breath told her he’d heard.

“I need you too, baby.” His hands reached out to cup her face, tilting it upward as his head descended and his lips met hers softly. Just a brush, butterfly-soft, at first. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. They drifted closed, her lips slightly parted as his lips met hers hungrily, devouring hers, deepening the kiss. When she opened her eyes, she was awed at the want and need in his. But more, at the love reflected in their depths.

“Make love to me. Help me forget today.” She pulled his head down to close the distance between them. Claiming his lips in a demanding kiss, her tongue dueled with his in a seductive game of mastery they were both determined to win.

His hands speared into her hair, his lips never leaving hers, wet and sucking, a kiss filled with his own need. Pulling back slightly, he voiced his request.

“Take your hair down for me, baby. I love to run my fingers through it. It’s so amazingly sexy.”

Reaching up, Theresa pulled the long braid over her shoulder and took out the elastic band holding the ends together. Twining her fingers through its mass, she separated the long strands until they were free, flowing down her back to fall to her hips.

With a shy inviting smile, she turned and walked through the open doorway to her bedroom, beckoning for him to follow.

Max’s footsteps sounded with a brisk clip-clop, his boots echoing against the hardwood floor. Its deep golden color glowed in the diffused light of a lamp she’d left on earlier. Max had never been in Theresa’s bedroom before tonight.

Curiosity had him glancing around, taking in the white cast-iron bedstead, the intricate scrollwork accented with touches of burnished gold at the knobbed balls on the four corners. An embroidered deep royal-purple bedspread and pillows adorned the bed. It was so much like Theresa. Regal, unique, strong and ever so valuable.

Her face looked uncertain, watching him the way a mouse watches a cat, anticipating the pounce.

“If you’ve changed your mind, baby, I’ll go. You never have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s not that.” She collapsed to sit on the side of the bed, all that glorious hair fanning out behind her. “I was just thinking I didn’t want to push you into something you don’t want. We weren’t looking to start anything when this all began. Just the opposite, we avoided each other. I don’t know where this will all end when my job with you is over.”

Max sat next to her on the decadent purple velvet. “You’re right, we don’t know where this is headed. I just have one question.” He stared deeply and directly into her eyes. “Do you care about me?”

Without hesitation she answered him. “Yes, Max, I care about you.”

“I care about you, too. Things are unsettled right now. Once this case is over, we can see where this is leading. I made mistakes before—we both have—and I don’t want to make those same mistakes again.”

Theresa nodded her head. “Okay, let’s take things slowly, not rush into anything.” She raised her hand up, cupping his cheek. “Are you going to stay with me tonight? I still want you to make love to me.”

Max grinned. “Oh, yeah, I’m staying.”

Theresa awoke to Remy’s impatient knocking on the back door. Max had stumbled from her bed before dawn, with plans to head over to his ransacked office. Since the police were finished in there, he wanted to look for leads on Tommy and Jacob Freeman.

Remy looked like he’d been dragged out of bed himself. Max must have called him before he’d left, to make sure she had a babysitter. She wasn’t too worried about the anonymous threat in that note. Still, she’d agreed to let them watch over her until things calmed down.

“Morning, Remy. Coffee’s not ready yet, it’s too early. Give me a minute, and I’ll get it on.”

He walked to the counter holding the half-filled coffee maker, before he gave a groaning sigh.
Must have been a long night.
She wondered who he’d been with this time. Remy loved women, enjoyed their company and spent most of his free time dating.

“Hope you had a good time last night,” she teased, watching him stretch, his tall, lean frame accented by the jeans and T-shirt, muscles rippling. It was easy to understand what all those women saw in him. He was a friendly, funny and very sexy man.

Remy grinned, perfect white teeth revealed in his smile. “Oh, yeah, it was great. How was your night?”

Heat rushed into her cheeks and she felt the blush spread across them. He obviously knew Max had spent the night. “It was wonderful.”

“Wonderful? I didn’t think Max could inspire wonderful.”

“You’d be surprised at just how
inspiring
he can be,” she quipped, moving gracefully to the counter with the coffee paraphernalia. Soon the fragrant aroma filled the kitchen.

“Things seem to be going well between you. Have you told him how you feel?” Remy’s question caught her off-guard.

“We’ve decided to just take things day by day until this whole case has been resolved.” Suddenly nervous about standing there in her nightclothes when Remy was fully dressed, she reached down and tightened the belt on her robe. “I’m just going to run upstairs and get dressed.”

Remy glanced at her, obviously confused by the nervousness in her tone. She’d been around him many times when she was still in her nightclothes. But that was before she started sleeping with his brother.

“Hang on a second.” Reaching into his back pocket, Remy pulled out several folded sheets of paper, showing them to Theresa. “Jacob Freeman’s parents found a journal tucked under the mattress in Jacob’s bedroom.” He shrugged at Theresa’s wide-eyed stare. “Apparently they didn’t even know he kept one. Mr. Freeman called Max and he had me stop by there this morning. They gave me the last few pages.” Unfolding the wrinkled sheets, he laid them on the table.

Theresa stared at the journal pages. She lowered herself onto a chair, mentally and physically stiffening her spine before reaching out to pick them up. Instantly images swirled in her mind’s eye, coalescing and focusing to a crisp vision.

She saw Jacob walk through the sliding doors of a familiar-looking hardware store, striding briskly to the customer service counter. He spoke with the man working the counter, filling out what she assumed was a job application. They spoke animatedly for several more minutes before Jacob turned to leave. He had a big grin on his face as he exited the store.

The image faded and Theresa laid the papers on the table.

“We need to call Max. I got a vision of Jacob at a hardware store. It looked like that really big one over in Metairie. We need to get over there, show his picture. Somebody there will remember him.”

“I know that place. Tell you what, you get changed. We’ll drive over and call Max from there if we get some concrete information, okay?”

Theresa paced back and forth between the table and the counter, mumbling to herself, until Remy caught her by the elbow, stopping her in her tracks.

“It’s early. They aren’t even open yet. You can call Maggie, have her come watch the store and we’ll go. I’ve got Jacob’s picture in my car.”

He gently pushed on her shoulders, pointing her toward the stairs. “Go. Dress.”

Within minutes, Theresa was back downstairs. “Let’s go now.” She was anxious yet eager.

“I’ll call Maggie from the car. We have to hurry, Remy. I don’t know why but I feel a real sense of urgency. We have to go now.”

***

The Homefront Hardware Store was a massive, do-it-yourself, home-and-garden supply center, doing its best to compete with the huge conglomerates taking over all the mom-and-pop hardware stores in southern Louisiana. Having been owned and operated by the same family for more than twenty years, it was a place where clerks knew their regulars by name. The bustling crowds pushed their loaded shopping carts up and down the well-stocked aisles, a testament to the loyalty of their customer base.

One of the things Remy and Theresa were counting on was that somebody there would remember talking to Jacob. Theresa knew the two cases were connected. Whoever killed Jacob was the same person who had Tommy. In her mind it had become a case of
find Jacob, find Tommy.

She walked at a brisk pace, with Remy close behind her, through the big automated doors and straight to the customer service counter.

“Excuse me. I need to speak with someone who was here on Thursday.” Theresa locked eyes with the harried, stooped, gray-haired gentleman behind the counter. His bright blue apron proudly proclaimed My Name is Eddie. Eddie flipped through the pages of a catalog, dividing his attention between it and the computer keyboard, busily typing information into the system and ignoring Theresa.

“I said, excuse me, Eddie. I need to speak with somebody who was here Thursday afternoon. This is a police matter.” Eddie’s head popped up.

“You a cop?”

Remy reached around from behind Theresa, shoving his badge in Eddie’s face. “I am. Now answer the lady’s question.”

“Okay, okay, hold on. I need to get the schedule. What day did you say again?” Eddie walked several feet away, down the massive counter, past the computers and the cash register, to a clipboard hanging on a hook by the last cubicle. He grabbed it and hurried back, flipping through the pages as he walked.

“Thursday…what time?”

“It would have been afternoon, probably after three o’clock. Is there somebody here today who was working then?” Theresa tried to remain calm, but again that sense of urgency, the need to rush, grew stronger.

“Let’s see. Pete, Chuck and Juan were all here Thursday afternoon. Juan and Chuck won’t be in until two o’clock this afternoon. Pete’s back in shipping now, though. Straight back, through the flooring department, next to the big double doors. You can’t miss it—”

“Thanks, Eddie, we appreciate your help,” Remy broke in.

Nearly running, they made their way toward the back, past the flooring department and through the double doors. One lone man was loading a long cart with lighting materials, boxes filled with lamps, ceiling fans, and lamping accessories. Theresa and Remy walked over. She felt a momentary letdown when she read the name on his apron. Franklyn.

“Hello, Franklyn. We’re looking for Pete. Eddie at customer service said he was back here. Could we speak to him?” Theresa tried to make her tone sound crisp and official.

Franklyn stopped stacking his cart, reaching up with his right hand to scratch at his smooth-shaven bald pate.

“Pete. He just clocked out. Went home sick. If you hurry, you might catch him in the parkin’ lot out back,” Franklyn offered. “Anything I can help you folks with?”

“No, thanks. We need to speak with Pete.” Remy shook his head. “Which is the quickest exit to the back parking area?”

Franklyn gestured to his left, toward a marked exit sign conveniently located by the loading dock.

Remy turned to Theresa. “Go back up front and get Pete’s address from Eddie, just in case I don’t catch him.” When she started to protest, he interjected, “If we argue about this, we may not catch him at all. I’ll meet you out front, either way. Now go.”

Theresa watched for a moment as Remy sprinted toward the door, swinging it open and was gone within seconds. She quickly made her way back to the front, to finagle Pete’s address. It took a good bit of arm-twisting, but in the end, Eddie complied and gave her the address.

She walked through the automated front doors, scanning the parking lot for Remy. His blue Impala pulled up adjacent to where she stood, and the passenger door swung open. Remy leaned toward her and motioned for her to get in.

“Did you get the address?” Remy peeled out of the parking lot.

“Yes. It’s 1723 Sycamore Drive.”

“Okay, I know where that is. It’s only a couple of minutes from here. Get that seatbelt buckled up.”

Pete lived in a single-story ranch-style house, its white walls and chocolate-brown shutters clean and pristine, looking newly painted. The hedges lining the front walkway were clipped to a precise angle, green and healthy-appearing. There wasn’t a car parked in the driveway. Not a good sign.

“Here he comes now,” Theresa said. Moments later a dark blue Jeep pulled into the driveway and a middle-aged, dark-haired man stepped from it. He walked over to them, his bearing straight, posture rigid.

“Can I help you folks?” His look encompassed both Theresa and Remy, but he wasn’t forthcoming in his welcome. Lines of pain were evident around his eyes and across his forehead.

“Pete?” He nodded, his eyes narrowing.

“My name’s Theresa Crawford and this is Remy Lamoreaux.” Remy pulled out his badge, showing it to Pete.

“Were you at work at Homefront Hardware on Thursday afternoon, between three and closing time?”

Pete nodded again, so she hurried on.

“Did a young man come in inquiring about work? His name is Jacob Freeman.” She detected the almost imperceptible shifting of his stance, enough to know she was on the right track.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Pete, Jacob’s parents are concerned because he hasn’t been seen since Thursday afternoon. He never came home, so we’re trying to help find him.” Theresa kept her voice calm, and Remy stood back, letting her do the talking. She knew he’d jump in, if it was necessary, but right now, he was letting her ease into things. He was the cop, but this was unofficial, so he was letting her run with it.

“There was a young kid, came in about four-thirty, asking about work. Seemed a nice enough guy. Willing to do anything. We didn’t have anything, though. With the Christmas season ready to start, the store’s been hiring full out for the past few weeks, and we’ve an overabundance of people right now. That’s what I told the kid.”

“Did he say anything about where he might go after he left your store?”

Pete shrugged. “I kind of gave the kid a lead on somebody who might have a job. He seemed real anxious to find something, so I told him about a couple of roofing jobs I’d filled an order for. Told him to check with the guy doing the jobs, see if he could use extra help.” Pete shifted nervously from foot to foot.

Theresa looked at Remy, and he nodded for her to go ahead and ask.

“Pete, we need you to give us all the information you gave Jacob about the roofing job. Where did you send him, who did you tell him to contact? Please, it’s very important. This person may be able to help us track Jacob down and help get him home.”

Tingles ran down Theresa’s spine.
This was it.
She knew it, felt it to her marrow. This was the missing piece of the puzzle they needed to find the boys, both Tommy and Jacob.

“Company’s called Black’s Back to Basics. I sent him to see the guy who owns it, Steven Black.”