Vanessa Gray Bartal - Lacy Steele 07 - Icy Grip of Murder

Copyright
©
2014 Vanessa Gray Bartal

This is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Jenny Andrews had a plan, and it
was good. The door burst open, and her boyfriend entered the apartment.

“Can I bum a fag?” Michael asked.

She smiled and handed him a
cigarette, but the British slang grated on her nerves. When had that happened?
She had found him so charming once, this boy she had wanted since she was fifteen
years old. Now everything he said, every expression on his face annoyed her to
the extreme. Was it because he had finally capitulated and let himself be
tethered to her that she despised him so? After all, it had taken many years to
break through his aloof dismissiveness. For all those years she had stored
every slight against him, even when he hadn’t meant it. He had no idea how
deeply he cut her when he lumped her in as one of the guys, but Jenny knew. And
she remembered.

Maybe she despised him now because
she no longer held his interest. She had thought that if she ever won Michael,
it would be the end for both of them. They were well suited to each other; why
would they look elsewhere? But already she could feel him waning away from her.
He hadn’t cheated on her, this much she knew. He was probably too afraid of
her, and she took some satisfaction in that. It was only a matter of time,
though, until he broke things off. They could both feel it coming. The passion
was gone, the fights more frequent.

Jenny, however, had no intention of
letting him go, at least not on his terms. If he wanted her gone, he would have
to kill her. Her smile grew until it caught his attention.

“What?” he asked, giving her a
suspicious half smile in return.

“Nothing,” she said.

“You look like you’ve got a
secret,” he said.

“Maybe I do,” she said.

He reached out and pulled her close
until her face was trapped against his chest. “Jenny, you’re going to be the
death of me.”

Content that her face was hidden,
she let her smile widen until it was grotesque to behold, a twisted mask of
rage and dark humor.
If it’s the last
thing I do,
she thought and squeezed his stomach until he wrenched away.

Michael O’Donnell stared at the
woman who was about to send him to jail.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this
to me.”

“Believe it,” she said.

“Where’s your sense of mercy, of
compassion?” he asked.

“You owe me two thousand dollars,”
she said.

“And you’re going to let a little thing
like money push you to do this terrible thing?” he said.

“Yes. That was what you agreed to
when you signed the contract. Don’t welch.”

“Lacy,” he pleaded, but to no
avail.

She held up the piece of paper with
his signature. “You landed on my property three times without being able to
pay. You promised to pay or go to jail. You have no money. Now go to jail. And
do not collect two hundred dollars because it belongs to me.”

“Monopoly brings out a side of you
that scares me,” Michael said as he picked up his Scottie dog and placed him in
jail.

“Nothing personal; it’s business,”
Lacy said.

“Is this how you play with Jason?”
he asked.

“Jason won’t play with me anymore,”
Lacy said.

“Shocking,” Michael said. “When is
he coming back?”

They were in his house, playing his
Monopoly game. The only thing missing was
him
. “I
don’t know. Whenever he’s finished signing for the prisoner transfer,” Lacy
said as she counted her money and contemplated another purchase. She already
owned three quarters of the board, but Michael had learned the hard way that
there was no stopping her mad thirst for power.

“Why did he have to go? Couldn’t
someone else sign off?”

“The sheriff’s office has a
paramilitary command,” Lacy explained. “Senior officers have to sign off on
everything. That means either Jason, the sheriff, or Detective Arroyo has to do
it. Jason’s the youngest and the newest, so guess who gets to go in before and
after hours.”

“That’s what happens when you work
for the man,” Michael said.

“He likes it. Can you imagine him
doing something less structured?”

“Sometimes I like to try, for my
own amusement. What if he was the guy who danced in the park for money? That
would be something to see,” Michael said.

“He would go crazy and start
talking to squirrels within two hours. Jason likes structure and routine,” Lacy
said.

“There has to be a free spirit in
there somewhere,” Michael said.

“There’s not, but I like him that
way, so don’t try to change him. You might break him,” Lacy warned.

“You’re both set in your ways.
Frankly, I don’t know what I see in you,” Michael said.

Lacy didn’t either. They were an
unlikely trio, and yet they had been spending all of their time together the
last few weeks. Sometimes Kimber joined in, but she had been spending an
increasing amount of time alone after her recent breakup with Andy. The garage
door opened and Jason entered. He scowled at the Monopoly board.

“I thought I burned that,” he said.

“I pulled it out and rescued it,”
Lacy said. “Want to join us?” She fanned herself with her giant stack of cash.

“After you bit me last time? Never
again,” he said as he sank wearily beside her to the couch. She set aside the
money and put her arm around him, kneading the tight muscles at the back of his
neck. He had been going since four that morning when another work emergency
pulled him from bed.

“I’m going to go,” Michael said.

“The game’s not finished. You still
owe me money,” Lacy said.

“Why do you think I’m leaving?”
Michael asked.

“Next time we’ll pick up where we
left off,” Lacy said.

“I just remembered that I have to
go to Siberia on business, so if you don’t hear from me for a few years, that’s
why. It’s not because you’ve turned a child’s game into a competitive blood
sport.”

“You can’t hide from me,” Lacy
said.

“Can’t we declare you the winner
for all time and have done with it?” Michael asked.

“No, it’s not the same. I need to
see the fear in your eyes as I obliterate you. It nurtures my soul.”

“I’m not sure you have a soul,”
Michael said. “I’m going to go call a few priests and arrange a Monopoly
exorcism.” He let himself out, closing the door gently behind him. Lacy turned
her attention to Jason.

“Are you hungry?”

“I ate before I left, remember? You
cooked.”

“That was a long time ago, and you
didn’t eat dessert,” she reminded him.

“Is there any dessert left?” he
asked.

With shame, she remembered eating
his portion of brownies. He smiled as if he could read her thoughts, which he
probably could. “I didn’t want brownies anyway. You know chocolate’s not my
thing.”

“Yes, that’s why I ate them. To
save you,” Lacy said. He squeezed her knee and dropped his head to the back of
the couch. He looked thirty seconds away from sleep. “You need a vacation.”

He opened his eyes. “What would I
do on vacation?”

“Go somewhere. Sleep. Do man
things.”

“What man things?” He picked up her
hand and kissed her palm.

“Shoot things or fish or play a
sport of some kind. I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“This,” he said as he advanced and
began kissing her wrist.

“You haven’t had a real vacation
since I moved back here,” she reminded him.

“I took off three days a few months
ago,” he said.

“Because you were shot. Almost
dying is not a vacation.”

“It felt like one. Would you come
with me?” he asked. He was almost up to her elbow now, and it was becoming
harder to think.

“Now’s not a good time to get
away.”

“You are a hypocrite, only worse
because you’re self-employed. You could take off any time you want, but you’re
as much of a workaholic as I am.” He reached the sensitive part of her elbow,
and Lacy’s mind went blank.

“I can’t formulate a comeback when
you do that,” she said.

“I know,” he said.

Her phone rang. Lacy tensed and
Jason froze. “It’s your mother,” he said.

“How did you know?”

“Because you’re only this tense
either when it’s your mother or when your emergency chocolate stash runs out.
Don’t answer it,” he admonished as she reached for the phone.

“I have to. If I don’t, she’ll call
Grandma and harp on her. It’s better if I take the bullet.”

“Selfless,” he said, yawning. He
reached for the TV remote and turned it to a game, muting the sound.

“I think Riley’s working too hard.”

Her mother always started in the
middle of a conversation. Lacy had learned to be ready for anything her mom
might say. “Riley doesn’t have a job, Mom.”

“It’s that house of hers. She’s
always cleaning or rearranging something. I told her to let those people at
Tosh’s church do those things for her, but she won’t listen. You need to make
her listen.”

“Riley hasn’t listened to me since
her first birthday. Besides, she likes cleaning and rearranging things. She’s
nesting.”

“She’s pregnant. She’s going to
rupture something.”

“She’s fine,” Lacy said.

“How do you know? You’ve never been
pregnant.”

“But you have. Did you lie around
and do nothing the whole time?” Lacy countered.

“No, but that was different. I was
hardy, like you. Riley’s fragile.”

“Mom, Riley’s as fragile as an
anvil. She’s fine.”

“I don’t understand why Tosh won’t
hire some live-in help. It’s not as if he can’t afford it.”

“Their house is fourteen hundred
square feet, Riley’s home all day, and the baby’s not even here yet. I think
she can handle it. Besides, she has me and Grandma nearby if she needs
anything.”

“Yes, but are you actually taking
care of her?”

“Grandma’s been sending lots of
food,” Lacy hedged.

“What have you been doing to help?”

Lacy suppressed a sigh. Even far
away in Florida, her mother was playing puppet master with her life. The worst
part was that she was right; she did have an obligation to take care of Riley,
something she hadn’t done much of lately. They lived in the same town and still
led separate lives.

“I will check on Riley,” Lacy
promised. Her mother took a breath, probably to gear up for another assault,
but Lacy preempted her. “Mom, I need to go. I’m at Jason’s.”

“He won’t let you talk to me, is
that it?” her mom said. Lacy glanced at Jason who was now sleeping peacefully,
one hand tucked beneath his stubbly cheek.

“Yeah, he’s a brute,” Lacy said. “I
really have to go, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.” She ended the call before her
mother could reload. For a minute, she stared at Jason. She half hoped he would
wake
up,
half hoped he would stay asleep. She wanted
to see him, but he was exhausted. After it was clear that he wouldn’t rouse,
she covered him, kissed his cheek, turned off the lights and TV, and let
herself out. There was something she had to tell him, something he would
approve of. She had intended to tell him tonight, but now she was relieved she
wouldn’t have to. Tomorrow, she would tell him tomorrow.
She
only hoped he wouldn’t hear it from someone else first.