Key West (15 page)

It was Sonnie he pointed at. She grabbed Roy’s elbow when he made to follow the man. “Let him go,” she said.

Roy put an arm around her shoulders and said, “Yeah, you’re right. Don’t give that another thought. They’ll be gone from the island soon enough, and by morning he won’t remember a word he said tonight anyway.”

Sonnie would remember she’d been threatened with rape. She glanced at the back door—again.

Eleven

One day he and Roy might just have to revisit old times. Roy was ready. Chris wasn’t. It was all clear enough in his head—his mother who was too gentle for the cruel man her husband had been, the perpetual rage, the fear, the inevitable destruction of two childhoods that never had a chance. The loss of a little sister who might have lived if there’d been any love in the Talon household. It was clear, but he couldn’t face talking about it.

“God,” Chris said aloud to a leaden night sky. They’d been helpless and trapped.

He walked slowly toward the back door of the Nail. All that was over. There was no changing any of it—there had never been anything he could have done.

Rotten, all rotten. Everything that could be good and true and special, got torn apart, beaten out of existence by an excuse for a man who used his fists on his wife and children rather than take responsibility for his own disappointments. And even that hadn’t been the worst of it.

But Roy and Chris Talon had been tough, too tough not to fight back as soon as they were able. Up and out they’d gone. They’d both worked, often at more than one job, and made it through both high school and college. A year out of college, Chris had applied to the police academy and was accepted. Roy got a big chuckle out of that. “Chris, soldier of justice,” he’d called his brother. “The world’s safe now it’s in your hands.” Chris had laughed himself, but he’d known his motives weren’t too far from Roy’s cracks.

The Talon brothers had helped themselves and, after their father dropped out of sight, they’d made sure their mother had enough to live the simple life she preferred without worry. They still looked after her. The old man had never shown up again. Just as well, since even gentle Roy said he’d kill him if he ever did.

Sonnie Giacano had lost her baby. She’d been hurtled through a window of her Volvo and thrown clear while the car crashed and burned. The woman had lived, but the baby had died. A little girl.

Irony had shown a tendency to like Chris’s company. He’d known despair.

He’d caused despair.

If he decided to take up Sonnies cause, would it be because he thought he could somehow make the past right?

So much for his declaration to Roy that he wasn’t taking any trips down memory lane.
Damn, damn, damn.

More noise than usual came from inside the bar. He let himself in and used one of the skills his police career had given him—the ability to single out trouble, even in a crowd.

One small, fair-haired woman in a khaki bush shirt and matching pants had evidently managed to whip the anesthetized inmates of the Rusty Nail into something resembling frenzy.

Sonnie shook her head vehemently. Her face was visibly flushed.

Roy waved his arms and demanded, “Sit down, all of you. What the...Sam Hill do you think this is? The Old West? We don’t do lynch mobs anymore, Taffy.”

“The...Sam Hill, we don’t,” Taffy shouted through his gums. “Them fellas don’t even live here. Foreigners, that’s what they are. From somewhere up north.”

“At least Georgia” Bo said.

Taffy nodded. “Like I said. From up north. They don’t come down here and get away with threatenin’ a lady. We go get ‘em. That’s what I say. You with me, fellas?”

Α discordant but assenting chorus went up. There was no progress toward the street.

“Please.” The volume Sonnie managed opened Chris’s eyes wider. “I don’t want anyone getting into trouble. You’re all so kind. You’re real gentlemen. No way do you give those people the pleasure of knowing they’ve upset you. Come on. I’m going to buy everyone a drink.”

Chris didn’t wait to hear more. He pushed his way to the middle of the group. “What the…Sam Hill’s going on here?” He gritted his teeth and said,
“Hell,
Roy. I leave you alone for half an hour and all
hell
breaks loose around here. Sonnie? You okay?”

She’d closed her eyes and he looked at the fish netting that drooped from the ceiling. Shit, now he was frightening her because he’d raised his voice a little. He glanced around at the clustered men. “Sit
down,
damn it. Can’t you see you’re scaring Sonnie out of her wits? Sit
down.
Set ‘em up, Bo. I’m buyin’.”

“You’re the one whose scaring her,” Roy said into Chris’s ear. “Swearin’ and shoutin’. You always did have a foul temper.”

“What happened here?” Chris asked.

“Some jokers—tourists—wandered in. Evidently doing the rounds. We weren’t early on the route. Sonnie offered them coffee and one guy got mad. He threatened her.”

Chris felt the need to hit something, so he crossed his arms. “Threatened her how?”

“Let it go,” Roy said.

“Like hell. Tell me.”

Roy sighed. “I guess he threatened to do things to her if he ever caught her alone.”

Chris dropped his arms to his sides. “How long ago did he leave?”

“Too long for you to catch up with him. The guy was drunk out of his mind, Chris. By tomorrow he’ll forget he was ever here, let alone what he said to anyone. Let it go, will ya?”

He watched the patrons shuffle off to reclaim their stools and chairs, all but Taffy, who patted Sonnie’s back with an awkwardness that spoke of how unaccustomed he was to offering physical comfort.

Sonnie smiled at him and said “Thanks, Taffy. I’m fine, really. Thanks to you.”

“She probably shouldn’t be here,” Chris said. “She’s not cut out for the kind of people you get here.”

Roy bristled. “I can look after her, thanks. Bo and I would never let anything happen to Sonnie.”

“No, I know you wouldn’t. If you were there when some son of a bitch decided to take her apart.”

Movement at a table by the window grabbed Chris’s attention. At any other time he would have noticed the woman immediately mostly because she didn’t fit. But even if she weren’t dressed like an escapee from a Hollywood set, an obviously affluent, unaccompanied woman wasn’t a frequent late-night occurrence at the Nail.

Bo had started passing out the drinks, and Taffy leaned on the bar again.

“We’ll keep a close eye on her, okay?” Roy said quietly. “Don’t get her all worked up over something that’ll probably never be a problem.”

Sonnie remained where she’d been. She held her flattened palms against her hips and stared at Chris. The sheen in her eyes was no mystery. Tears were close. She’d been through too much. Last night she’d broken up over a dream. He’d seen how fragile she was. Whatever had happened here tonight could be sending her over the edge.

Chris said, “Look at her,” to Roy. “She’s too vulnerable.”        

“And you’re fascinated by her.”

Chris eyed his brother but he didn’t argue.

“I don’t blame you. If I were straight I’d be interested myself.” Roy’s grin demanded a grin in response. “Relax a bit about tonight. It didn’t mean anything.”

 He wasn’t so sure, but Chris nodded while Roy backed away, then turned to go to the bar.

The woman in leopard print and oversize dark glasses got up. Chris realized who she was. Billy Keith sauntered toward Sonnie, and the annoyance he felt wasn’t a good thing. Feeling territorial about Sonnie would never be a good thing.

He returned his gaze to Sonnie and doubted she’d ever removed hers. She looked straight back into his face. Billy gradually moved from the periphery of his vision, right into the central frame.

Sonnie walked toward Chris as if she hadn’t seen her sister. If everything he felt was in his eyes, he was in deep tofu—
shit.

The limp was more noticeable when she moved slowly. Each step was a decision she made while she watched for a signal from him. She wanted him to encourage her to come to him.

She stopped.

Come on. Keep coming and maybe I’ll know what to do when you get here.

What did he want? He wasn’t a romantic, for God’s sake. Chris Talon saw the bad old world through jaded eyes. He didn’t want to take on her case. He didn’t want to care about her. He
would not
care about her.

The lady was married.

“Sonnie,” her sister said, sharply enough to make Sonnie flinch. “Look at me. I’m not here because I want to be. I’m here for you. I can’t believe you’re in a place like this.”

Don’t listen to her. Come on. Come on.

Caring about the client didn’t automatically follow taking on a case. Not that it would necessarily be bad if it happened. She’d never said how she felt about Giacano—only that she wanted to know if she was his wife or his widow.

Her unblinking stare asked him all the questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
Will you help me now? Do you want things to turn out for me? Has something changed between us?
And maybe there was more but he chose not to try putting it into words.

“Damn it, Sonnie,” Billy said, and she was close enough to Chris for him not to have to strain to hear every word. “These aren’t your kind of people and this isn’t your kind of place. Do you even know what they are?” She indicated Roy and Bo, and Chris itched to answer for Sonnie and say, “Νο, what are they?”

“We’re going to talk,” Billy said. “Right now. It’s my turn to be the stable one. I’ve got a car outside.”

For the first time since the other woman approached, Sonnie gave her some attention. “I’m not leaving. Thanks for worrying about me, though.”

Billy spread her arms. In the silky jumpsuit she might as well have been wearing a thin leotard. “This is just what I was afraid of when you said you had to come down here on your own. I’m moving in with you, Baby. I don’t care how much you argue. Until I can talk you into going back to Denver, I’m going to stick to you like glue.”

Chris felt like groaning aloud.

“If you remain in Key West at all,” Sonnie said, her voice steady, “you will not stay at my house. You don’t have the right to demand that. And I suggest you don’t stay on the island. There’s nothing for you to do here.” She cast Billy a cold appraisal, and Chris knew she was thinking about his revelation that Jim Lesley was a shrink.

Billy turned on Chris. “I don’t know how you managed to work your way into my sister’s life, but you must have figured that she’s not well, or strong, and that she’s an easy mark. You’ve taken advantage of her. But that’s going to stop. She’s got family here now, and we won’t stand for it.”

“Chris is my friend,” Sonnie said. Her voice was so much softer and less strident than her sister’s, yet Chris had a hunch that Billy wasn’t as tough as she’d like the rest of the world to believe.

“I’m worried about you, Baby,” Billy said, and her mouth trembled. “You were always the one who never took a wrong step. This time I’m not the screwup. Let me take care of you. You owe it to me.”

“Why don’t we sit down,” Chris suggested, “and keep calm. Sonnie knows how much you care about her.” He met Sonnie’s eyes again and hoped she read his message that she shouldn’t mention Jim Lesley yet. “Let’s have something to drink.” He signaled to Roy, who hadn’t taken his eyes off them since the little three way drama had begun.

Roy arrived at the table Chris chose. “Evenin’,” he said, focusing his considerable charm on Billy. “What can I get you?”

“Grand Marnier over ice.” She didn’t return his smile. “Make it a double.”

“You’ve got it,” Roy said, turning to Sonnie. “You okay, kid?”

“Great, thanks. How can I not feel great with you and Bo and Chris to look after me? And Taffy, of course. I’ll have a dry sherry, please.”

Billy grimaced.

“The usual,” Chris said.

Billy leaned closer to Sonnie and said, “You know alcohol doesn’t suit you. And you’re still recovering from a head injury. You shouldn’t mess with things like that.”

“I’m having a glass of sherry, not a triple martini. Where’s your friend?”

Chris squeezed her knee under the table, and, when she met his gaze, he shook his head slightly. He kept his hand on top of her thigh and took pleasure in the color that rose in her face.

   “Jim’s a quiet man. He likes to read in the evening.”
Sounds like a real ball of fire.

He studied Billy Keith. She’d taken off her glasses. The scarf obscured her hair. The bones of her face were classic. She wore a considerable amount of makeup, but it was artfully applied. Her best feature was a very beautiful mouth with definite bowed upper arches. She cast frequent looks at Sonnie, and what Chris saw in those glances troubled him. He hadn’t spent years on the force to learn nothing about body language combined with facial expression. She felt connected to Sonnie, but there was envy there. It would be interesting to find out why.

Worse things could happen than that he let the two of them talk alone for a few minutes. “I’ll go help Roy with those drinks,” he said. “Back shortly.” He scraped his chair back. “Either of you want something to eat?”

Both women declined and he left.

Sonnie gave Chris time to be out of earshot before turning to Billy. “What are you thinking of, following me around? I work here.”

“That’s pathetic,” Billy said. “And you know it. There couldn’t be a more unsuitable place for you. You need to come with me for a complete rest.”

“Have you got a nice safe place in mind for me?” Sonnie said before she could squash the urge. She’d figured out that Chris didn’t want her to mention what they knew about Jim Lesley.

“You’ll be safe—and well looked after—at the folks’. I spoke with them today and they’re worried sick. Your mom wanted to fly down here but I persuaded her not to—yet.”

Sonnie didn’t miss the threat. Billy wouldn’t hesitate to bring Sonnie’s mother running to Key West if Sonnie didn’t do as Billy told her.