Interested in seeing what happens next to Mia? Check out Shameless, Book 2 of the Mia Kazmaroff Mysteries!
Here are the first several chapters of Shameless.
One
It was the week after Christmas and the pasture crackled with light frost everywhere Shiloh placed a hoof. Mia rode him bareback, her blue-jeaned legs dangling on either side of him, her hand relaxed on his neck. The sun made a dazzling diamond effect where its rays touched the frozen grass.
The little terrier, Daisy, ran alongside Mia. At odd moments the dog would veer off and race in another direction, distracted, Mia assumed, by some field mouse in the process of shifting burrows.
Mia closed her legs around her horse and he broke into a trot. At her age she knew riding bareback would result in sore muscles and aching joints the next day. She looked in the direction of the gate at the bottom of the gently sloping hill that led to the tack room and the barn. Even from the pasture she could see where the SUVs and station wagons were normally parked in the dirt parking lot. There weren’t any today, just her mother’s old Datsun.
She urged Shiloh in the direction of the gate. She could tell when she first climbed on him that he was agitated and nervous—probably the result of the wind scuttling leaves across the dead grass. She closed her eyes and willed calmness into him from her touch and smiled when, seconds later, she felt him relax beneath her.
Her gifts hadn’t diminished with her new-found ability to control them. Not at all. If anything, now that she could manage it, being able to tell the history and genus of any object just by touching it had gone from being a handicap to a benefit.
Usually.
She thought back to her brother, Dave, whose murder last fall had brought so many changes into her life. One of those changes was being forced to take control of a gift she’d allowed to rule her for too long. The other was the realization of a vein of steel in her backbone she hadn’t known she possessed.
And, of course, there was Jack.
Jack Burton was Dave’s ex-partner at the Atlanta Police Department’s Major Crime division. When Dave was murdered, Jack had been the obvious person to turn to for help.
And for other things.
She smiled at the thought of him but the pleasure was tinged with frustration.
Is the man ever going to make a move in my direction?
Out of the corner of her eye, Mia saw her mother standing at the gate. Mia could see she was cold. Jess hopped from one foot to the other as she worked to get the chain off the hook to throw the gate open.
As Mia approached, her mother caught the opening swing of the metal gate before it crashed against the wood slat board fencing. Jess waited, her face flushed from the cold, her shoulders hunched in her barn jacket as Mia rode the horse through the opening. Daisy shot ahead toward the tack room.
“What took you so long just fetching one horse from the pasture? I’ve lost several important digits to the cold in that tack room. It’s freezing!”
“He was way up past the tree line,” Mia said.
Mia heard the clang of the gate behind her as her mother shut and latched it.
“Jack called,” her mother said. “He says you have a case.”
“Really?” Mia dismounted and gave Shiloh a pat on the neck.
“I didn’t even know you were going to go ahead with that,” Jess said, rubbing her hands together for warmth. “Taking cases and such.”
“I wasn’t sure we were either.”
“Are you going to call him?”
“Not until I feed Shiloh. Besides, we’re going to his place for dinner tonight. I’ll talk to him then.”
Mia pulled Shiloh’s halter over his head and clipped his lead rope to the metal O-ring in the tack shed. “Did I tell you Deputy Chief Maxwell asked Jack to come back to the force with no loss of pension?” Mia asked.
“Oh my goodness, really?”
“You can stop acting, Mom. I know you’re dating Maxwell.” Mia hooked a large blue bucket onto the same O-ring in front of Shiloh. He promptly shoved his head into it.
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Fine. Have it your way. I’m not even upset that you felt the need to keep it a secret from me.”
Jess sat on a bale of hay and reached for the thermos of hot coffee she’d brought. She poured a cup and offered it to Mia.
“I’m sorry,” Jess said. “I wanted to tell you. But Bill felt it was best to keep a low profile.”
“How long has this been going on?”
Jess shrugged. “When Carol died, he reached out to me and I was glad to be there for him as a friend.”
“Yeah, the two dozen roses he sent last week is definitely how I spell friendship.”
Jess blushed and failed to hide a small smile. “Enough of that,” she said. “You were saying that Jack was offered his old job back?”
“He turned it down,” Mia said. “As you’re probably already aware.”
“Well, Jack Burton is a man who knows his own mind.”
“Eventually, anyway.” Mia finished off the coffee and handed the empty cup back to her mother. She watched Shiloh eat, listening to the sounds of his powerful jaws crunching the sweet feed.
“Ready, Mia?” Jess said. “I’m freezing and it’s getting late.”
Mia untied the horse. “Put the bucket in the feed shed, will you, Mom?” she said. “I’ll meet you in the car.” She walked Shiloh to the gate and released him into the dark pasture, listening to his footsteps as the night swallowed him up.
When she got into the car, her mother handed her the phone. “It’s him again,” she said.
Mia took the phone. “Hey Jack,” she said.
“This crazy broad has been calling me all afternoon,” he said. His voice sounded annoyed but it still sent a shiver of anticipation through Mia. “And I need to know if you want to meet with her.”
Who uses the word broad this day and age?
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Jennifer Laughlin and she wants us to see if her husband is cheating on her.”
“Yuck. Well, set up a meeting, I guess.”
“Okay, and thanks for being so good with the whole calling-me-back thing. Good to know, partner, how responsive you are.”
“Oh, chill out. I took five minutes to walk through a pasture and get a little Zen in my life. I figured you could hang on for five minutes.”
She looked at Jess, who was driving. Mia shook her head as if to say Don’t worry, it’s all good. She turned on the phone’s speaker so her mother could hear the conversation.
“My big question,” Jack said, “is how did she even know to call me?”
Mia buckled her seat belt. “It’s possible that while we were wrapping up the loose ends on Dave’s case, I might have…in a spurt of enthusiasm, run an ad or something.”
“You advertised our services as an investigative agency? Using my personal cell number?”
“It’s entirely possible.”
Mia heard her mother cluck her tongue in disapproval.
“We will discuss this when you get here,” Jack said firmly.
“I hope we’ll discuss it over something to eat because Mom and I are both starving.”
“I’ve made a passable chicken pot pie with lemon zest. It’s probably not good enough to add to my menu for the business, but it’ll do for you two.”
“You say the sweetest things.” Mia couldn’t believe how Jack had embraced his passion for cooking—or how quickly he’d been able to turn it into a private chef business. He already had two regular clients.
“I don’t suppose you picked up the wine?” he said.
Mia looked at her mother who nodded.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Mia said.
“Good. See you soon.”
Mia tossed the phone into her bag on the floor of the car.
“Sounds like his business is off to a great start,” Jess said.
“It is so bizarre imagining him whipping up meals for rich, bored housewives.”
“Are we his guinea pigs tonight?”
“Sounds like it.”
“I like Jack very much.”
“Yeah, he’s tolerable.”
Mia stretched a kink out in her neck while Jess negotiated the dirt drive that led from the barn to Brown’s Ferry Road.
“God, they should put lighting back here,” Mia said. “I don’t remember it being so dark.”
“Well, if they won’t repair the fencing on the east pasture that backs up to the river, I’m sure they won’t spend the money to—”
“Mom, stop! There’s something in the road!”
A shadowy form materialized suddenly on the road. Jess slammed on the brakes and flicked on her bright lights. Daisy jumped from the backseat to Mia’s lap, her ears pricked forward, her body tensed, a growl humming low in her throat.
Neither woman spoke. Mia squinted at the road illuminated by Jess’s headlights. Whatever she thought she had seen was gone. The pines loomed over the drive, the needles of their treetops touching to create a canopy. Their shapes stood like eerie, malevolent sentinels guarding the way out.
“Did you see that?” Mia whispered. “What was that?”
Two
Mia leaned across her mother and turned off the car. When the car quieted, the only sound was her mother’s breathing and Daisy’s soft growl.
“Stay here,” Mia said.
Jess reacted as if she’d been stung. She jerked around to face her daughter. “Mia, no!” She grabbed Mia’s arm to prevent her from leaving the car.
“Mom, stop. I need to see—”
“Not out of the car! You can see from inside.” Jess hit the button that locked all the doors.
Mia pulled her lock up and swung the door open. “Stay here,” she repeated and slipped out, closing the door on her mother’s protests. Whoever or whatever had flitted across the road was still there, hunched in the deep ditches on the side of the drive.
She stood with her hand on the warm car hood, trying to peer into the bushes on the south side of the drive where the figure had run. This late in the year, the light had fallen quickly but the car’s headlights made the shadows flicker and waver in the thick hedge.
“Hello?” Mia called. “Is someone there?”
There was no good reason why anyone would be walking in the ditches that lined the lane leading to the main road. There was no subdivision within two miles of Shakerag and no running trails to connect them.
Who would be walking around here this time of evening?
The rustling in the bushes answered her and she caught her breath.
“Hello?” she repeated, taking a step back toward the car.
An injured animal? One of the barn dogs? The hairs on the back of Mia’s neck prickled at the thought of the coyote someone at the barn had mentioned seeing last week.
When the figure emerged from the bushes, Mia’s hand went to where she usually wore her shoulder harness, until she remembered it was in the glove box of her mother’s car.
He was small, no bigger than Mia herself. At first Mia thought it might be a child. But when he staggered into the headlight beams, she saw he was a grown man.
And he was hurt.
Without thinking, she went to him and touched his arm. His face was streaked with blood and his eyes were wide. The fear that radiated up her arm where she touched him seemed to burn into her skin.
“Socorro,” he whimpered, his eyes darting to each side of the brush-lined drive. “Por favor…ayudame. Help me.”
“I’ll need you three nights next week?” Sheila Bressler said on the phone, her voice spiraling upwards to end with a question when there wasn’t one. Live in the south long enough, Jack thought, and every statement starts to sound like a question.
Jack sighed and nodded even though, of course, she couldn’t see him. “That’s fine,” he said. Crap. I was hoping to head up to the mountains next week.
“And then the dinner party on the twentieth? I mentioned that to you, didn’t I? For ten?”
“You did.”
“I’ll need low salt and no sugar. Two of my guests are diabetics. One has celiac disease, poor dear. And, of course, my gluten intolerance. Will you email me your menus by the end of the week?”
“No problem.” How the hell can you have a formal dinner with no sugar? And no salt? And what the hell is celiac disease?
“Thank you, Jack. My husband loved your truffle mac and cheese last week.”
“Glad to hear it.” Why wouldn’t he? It was loaded with butter and cheese, pasta and chunks of truffles.
After a few more instructions on how she preferred Jack to tidy up afterwards, they disconnected and Jack tossed the cell phone onto the couch then walked into the kitchen.
The last two days had been a serious pain in his butt with this new Buckhead client forcing his hand on the whole no gluten thing. If it were up to Jack he’d just tell her, eat it and deal with it. But of course, he was in the customer service game now. So he’d spend a couple hours online researching recipes and meal plans to accommodate her while hoping to come up with something that wouldn’t make a dog vomit.
He peered through the glass door of his oven at the potpie bubbling away. The crust was golden but not yet mahogany.
Things had changed between him and Mia since last month when they’d solved Dave’s murder. Not really changed in a bad way, unless you thought the fact that they weren’t sleeping together was bad.
Which he did.
He glanced at the water bowl on the floor. At the moment, he wasn’t sure if Daisy was his dog or Mia’s. He grinned ruefully. Looks like they had a shared custody arrangement. Regardless of how gruff he’d sounded to Mia on the phone, he was delighted they had a case—it was another reason besides her dead brother and a homeless dog for coming together.
Which was why his phone conversation with Jess a few minutes ago was so frustrating.
“I hate to ask, dear,” Jess had said, whispering conspiratorially into the phone while she was waiting for Mia to finish with her horse, “but if you have any ideas about dating Mia, I need to ask you to please table them. At least for now, as a personal favor to me, Jack.”
Jack tossed down the potholder and picked up his wine glass from the counter.
Something about Mia being all vulnerable and needing to get a better grip on her extrasensory powers first—or whatever the hell Jess called it—and saying that getting involved romantically could be problematic.
What the hell? It was bad enough they hadn’t seen much of each other since they solved Dave’s murder. They’d talked about creating a detective agency together, but what with his chef business taking off, nothing had moved forward. He’d been positively gleeful when the wife with the cheating hubby had called.
Then, five minutes later, Jess called with her “special” favor.
Now he was supposed to hold off making his move? For how long? A week? A month?
Indefinitely?
He heard Jess’s car pull up behind his truck in the driveway and felt a flutter of anticipation in his gut at seeing Mia again. God, he had it bad. He turned off the oven and drank down the rest of his wine.
“Jack?”
“In the kitchen,” he called, pulling out the antipasto tray from the refrigerator.
Mia stepped into the kitchen. She wore jeans and a corduroy barn jacket over a turtleneck. Her face was flushed with excitement. The mixture of a floral perfume with the faint whiff of horse clung to her long dark hair.
Daisy burst in from behind her and jumped up against Jack’s knees.
“Hey, girl,” he said, squatting down to give the dog the hug he’d prefer to lavish on Mia.
“Jack,” Mia said, “I’ve got something to show you.”
“I hope it’s a pinot noir,” he said, standing up. “Although I could live with a decent pinot grigio.”
Jess came up behind Mia and squeezed into the narrow galley kitchen. Jack saw she had her arm around a young man.
“We found him walking down the front drive at Shakerag,” Mia said, shrugging out of her jacket and handing it to Jack.
The man was Hispanic, Jack noted, and judging from the spasmodic way his wide eyes followed Mia’s hand gestures, he didn’t speak English.
And he was frightened.
Jack waved them all out of the kitchen. “What happened? Who is he?”
“That’s just it, Jack,” Mia said. “We don’t know. Oh. I left the wine in the car.”
“We’ll get it in a minute.” Jack approached the man who cowered the closer Jack got, his eyes darting to Jess and Mia as if pleading with them to intercede. “What’s the matter with him? Crap, he’s bleeding!”
“It’s not bad,” Jess said. “But he seems to have gone through barbwire at one point.”
“Okay, everybody sit down,” Jack said. “And start at the beginning. When did you find him? I just talked to you thirty minutes ago.”
“Right after I hung up,” Mia said, patting the couch next to her. “Seconds later he practically fell in front of our car.”
“And why did you feel the need to put him in your car?”
“Okay, Jack, don’t be like that. Can’t you see he’s had the crap scared out of him?”
“Mia, dear. Language.”
“Sorry, Mom. We don’t speak Spanish so we don’t know why when I opened the car door he practically dove into the back seat. I figured he was running from someone, you know? Mm-mm, that smells good.”
Jack dashed into the kitchen and pulled the potpie out of the oven. He set it on the counter to cool and returned to the living room. The man was sitting on the couch now. Jack figured he was about twenty years old. His face was freshly cut by the barbwire but no longer bleeding.
“He’s petrified,” Jack said, sitting opposite the man.
“I know,” Mia said. “We figured he was afraid we’d turn him in. For sure he doesn’t have papers.”
“He looks like he’s terrified for his life,” Jack said.
“Exactly what I thought.”
Jack gave Mia a baleful glance. “And your plan? I know you have one.”
“Beyond giving him a decent meal and trying to find out who’s chasing him?”
Jack sighed and ran his hand over his face. He turned to the young man who was staring desperately at Mia. “Como te llamas?”
“Jack! You speak Spanish!”
“What I just said, and an inquiry about the location of your aunt’s blue pencil box, is the extent of my linguistic abilities,” he said, grimly. He looked back at the young man. “Senor?”
The man continued to look at Mia as if she might save him.
“It’s okay,” Mia said to him. She put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, sending a jolt of heat through him where she touched him. “Jack is our amigo. He won’t hurt you.”
The man’s face crumpled into what looked like the beginning of tears and then glanced at Jack before turning back to Mia. “José,” he said. “Me llamo José.”
Jess stood up and went out to the car, returning with the bottle of wine. “I think we can all use a drink,” she said.
“Mi Hermana esta en peligro.”
“I have no idea what he’s saying,” Jack said.
“Mi Hermana.”
“Sorry, José. No comprendo,” Mia said.
“I think hermana means sister,” Jess said.
“How do you know that?” Mia said. She jumped up and rummaged in her purse for her smartphone. She touched a few buttons and then spoke into it. “Why were you running away tonight?” She held the smartphone out to José and an automated voice said: por que niegues esta noche?
José’s face lit up and he reached for the smartphone.
“Wait, let me move it from English to Spanish,” Mia said as she took the phone and made the adjustment before handing it to him.
He took the phone and spoke slowly into it. “Huia de mis captores.” He paused and the smartphone intoned flatly, I was running from my captors.
“Holy crap,” Mia said. “Like kidnappers? Does that make sense? Maybe he comes from a rich family back in Mexico or something?”
José spoke again into the phone. “Mi Hermana y yo fuimos tornados.” My sister and I were both taken.
“You were right, Mom. He was talking about his sister.”
“Maria,” José said, as tears filled his eyes.
“I think I know what this is,” Jack said, standing up. “Mia, give me a hand in the kitchen.”
“Are you serious? Now?”
“Please?”
Jess took the smart phone from José, changed the setting, and spoke into it, “Where is Maria now, José?”
Jack pulled Mia into the kitchen. “You can plate up four servings while I open the wine.”
“What the hell, Jack?” But she pulled four large white bowls from the open shelving in the kitchen.
“I think he’s a victim of a human trafficking ring,” he said in a low voice.
Mia glanced at the living room where her mother was talking to José. “You mean like sex slaves? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, it might for his sister,” he said, pulling the cork out of the bottle. “But human trafficking isn’t just sex. He says he was held against his will. If he’s being forced to do manual labor, it would explain his injuries and why he was over by Shakerag. There are several companies that have factories out that way.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m serious that human trafficking is a big problem in Georgia. Here, grab some forks. We’ll eat in the living room tonight.”
Mia loaded the four plates onto a tray with a pile of paper napkins. Jack followed her back to the living room with the wine and four glasses.
Jess looked up when they came in. “He said he hasn’t seen his sister in over a week. She’s only seventeen.”
José took his plate with both hands and for a moment Jack thought the man might skip the use of the fork. He looked at Jack for the first time since he’d arrived. “Gracias, senor,” he said. “Por favor me ayude.”
Mia reached for the phone but Jack waved his hand at her.
“Never mind. He said please help me.”
Mia put an arm around the young man and spoke earnestly to him. “We’ll help you, José,” she said. “Muyo ayude. Comprenez?”
“That’s French you’re sort of speaking,” Jack said.
“Ayudame a encontrar a mi Hermana.”
“Something about his sister again,” Mia said.
“You can guess what he’s saying, darling,” Jess said sadly. “I’m sure he wants us to help him find his sister.”
Mia nodded. “And that’s exactly what we’ll do.” She spoke into her smartphone. “We’ll find her, José. I promise you. We will.”
Encontraremos en ella, José. Te lo prometo. Lo haremos.
Tears seeped from his eyes and he smiled for the first time since he’d walked into the house. “Gracias, senorita,” he said. “Dios te bendiga. Dios te bendiga. Gracias.”
Her feet were cold, her shoes sodden and falling apart. She had spent the last three days sleeping. She was sure they had drugged her. A part of her wanted to thank them for that.
In the small motel room, she saw three other women—girls, really—and they were all lying on the motel room beds as if they were dead. But Maria knew they were alive. Every now and then the youngest would whimper and call for her mama.
The two men played cards at a table by the window. They ignored the women and for that Maria was grateful. The other man didn’t ignore them, but for now he didn’t hurt them either. Maria tried to watch him without him seeing her. A long sheet of snarled black hair draped her face from where she sat on the corner of one of the beds. She leaned against the wall and watched.
Her plan was simple. Papa always said those were the best kind. She would comply. Go along. Endure. As long as they didn’t kill her, nothing else mattered. She could handle anything else.
“Senorita?”
The gringo with the yellow hair—the one who smiled a lot—crouched next to Maria. He had a plate of tacos in one hand. And he was smiling. Maria didn’t know where he’d gotten the food but it smelled good. Even if it was garbage with salsa on top, it smelled very good.
Maria nodded and plucked a warm burrito from the plate. It felt soggy in her hand but it didn’t matter. It would fill her up. Besides, the gringo looked like he really, really wanted her to eat it. So she would comply. She wasn’t sure she could manage a smile. She knew he’d prefer it if she could.
For now it would be enough not to vomit back up the food he was offering her.
After Mia and Jess left, Jack gave José a couple of ibuprofen for his bruises, a bottle of water, and the couch. The kid was exhausted and still afraid. Jack wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t bolt in the night. How in the hell were they going to find the guy’s sister if they couldn’t go to immigration? Jack had a contact at immigration legal services through Catholic Charities in Atlanta. They sometimes worked things around the back to get the job done. They might be able to help. Or at least give them a direction to start looking.
When Jack snapped the living room light out, José shot up to a sitting position on the couch and looked at Jack with consternation.
“You want me to leave a light on?” Jack asked.
José licked his lips and looked at the lamp.
“No worries, José. We all need a nightlight from time to time. Daisy! Where are you, girl?”
She was curled up at the foot of the couch with José. Jack smiled ruefully. If anybody knew what it felt like to be alone and afraid, it was Daisy.
“Alright, then, son,” Jack said. “We’ll get all this sorted out in the morning. Okay?”
José nodded and pulled Daisy up into his arms as he leaned back into the couch. “Okay,” he said in a hoarse whisper, his eyes closing as he spoke.
Jack ran a quick shower and then settled in the main bedroom with a novel Mia had been bugging him to read. He wasn’t big on reading fiction but he thought fifteen minutes a night wasn’t too much to spend on the woman who pretty much filled his every waking thought.
He looked away from his e-reader and frowned. Am I obsessed with her?
From the moment she’d walked into his life six months ago, Mia Kazmaroff had redefined his world view—with herself at the center of it.
That’s what happens when you want something you can’t have, he thought, forcing himself to concentrate on the book.
The crazy thing was, people had always told him oh, you’ll know when it’s real. They told him that in spite of the fact that he’d had a long series of serious girlfriends all through college and the police academy—not to mention a five-year marriage. And every one of those women had felt very real to him. Every one felt like they were right for him in cosmic ways that transcended the ordinary.
But until he met Mia, he’d never even come close to the real thing.
Stands to reason she’s got to be off limits.
He heard a sound in the living room and listened as José used the bathroom—little Daisy’s clipped nails patting along behind him—and returned to the couch.
Poor kid. If he and his sister really were abducted, there’s no telling what had happened to her. What was happening to her right now, he thought uncomfortably. He didn’t know what Mia had in mind—except a passionate intention to do something—but Jack was very much afraid this case was going to be solved the hard way.
By sending José back to Mexico without his sister.
In his dream he was ripping his clothes off. Tearing at them like he couldn’t get them off fast enough. He felt like he was burning up.
The kisses that accompanied the clothes-ripping were getting sloppier and wetter and Jack felt a needle of annoyance penetrate his dream life. And then he began to choke.
Daisy was standing on his chest licking his face and whining but there was so much smoke in the room, he couldn’t make out the dog’s form. He coughed and jerked the bedcovers back, startled to see sparks fly across the room when he did.
His lungs hurt like someone had coated them with hot sauce and every breath sliced him from the inside.
The room was on fire.
He fell out of bed onto the floor and Daisy was with him nose to nose. It was easier to breathe on the floor but he knew he had to move fast. Now that his hearing seemed to be working again, he could hear the sounds of crackling and roaring as the flames on the other side of his bedroom door consumed his house. He crawled to the window and forced it open, watching the smoke suck outside in a powerful fume. The window opened onto the back deck. He grabbed Daisy and dropped her out the window and followed quickly behind her.
Outside, the night was cold and the air thick and snapping with the flames from the roof of his house. He watched, stunned, as the eaves on the near side of his house broke and fell onto the deck in a shower of sparks and smaller fires. He staggered away and watched the flames punch out the windows in his dining room and kitchen.
And then he remembered…
José.
Jack ran to the kitchen door that opened up onto the deck and grabbed the doorknob but the door was locked from the inside. Looking around wildly, he grabbed a deck chair and heaved it through the dining room window that connected with the living room. Inside, all he could see was black smoke and fire.
In the distance, he heard the fire truck coming closer and closer. One of the neighbors must have called.
There was no way. He looked through the dining room window and fell back as another blast of heat and flame shot out the broken glass. Daisy ran to him and he scooped her up and held her to his chest as he watched his house burn.
There was just no way.
Three
Mia sat in the metal chair next to the examination table that held Jack in the emergency room at Grady Hospital, an oxygen mask strapped to his head. She could see his eyes darting around the room as if trying to keep up with his thoughts.
It was unimaginable. Impossible to believe. Just a few hours earlier they had all eaten chicken potpie and José had smiled and she had told him they’d help him…promised him they’d find his sister…
“I’m sorry? Are you family?”
The man walked into the room, a file in his hand. He was wearing green scrubs and although he was smiling at her, he looked tired, as if he’d been up all night. He probably had.
Jack struggled to remove the oxygen mask and the man stepped up and put a hand on him.
“Be best if you could leave it on, sir,” he said. “The doctor is still determining how much smoke inhalation damage you sustained.”
So he wasn’t a doctor, Mia thought. Her eyes went to the man’s badge hanging from a cord around his neck. Ben Bryant, RN.
“I’m his partner,” she said, moving to stand on the other side of Jack’s bed.
Jack pulled the mask off. “Mia, grab my stuff, will you?” He looked around the room as if searching for a carryon or personal possessions.
“You don’t have any stuff, Jack,” Mia said. Is he confused? Is that one of the symptoms of smoke inhalation?
“We’d like you to stay a little longer,” Ben said.
“No, thanks,” Jack said, draping the oxygen mask over the railing of the exam table and swinging his legs over the side. “You got your car, Mia? Did Jess come, too?”
“Jack, maybe you should slow down,” Mia said.
“He’s had a shock,” Ben said, picking up the oxygen mask. He looked as if he were trying to decide what to do with it and finally began to wind up the cord. Clearly, he wasn’t going to get Jack to put it back on.
“We all have,” Mia said. “I still can’t believe it happened. We were all there together just a few hours earlier.”
Ben nodded as if intently listening and Mia couldn’t help but think he probably had a lot of other things he could be doing. Like sleeping.
“Where is he?” Jack asked as he stood up. He was wearing a pair of Dave’s old sweatpants and a Tech sweatshirt that Mia had brought. She noticed he put a hand on the table to steady himself.
“Where’s José?”
“It’s my understanding, it -- he wasn’t brought to Grady,” Ben said. He looked at Mia and held her eyes. In them, she felt compassion but also a silent request to help him keep Jack from leaving.
Wow. Was he always this good at communicating with people he just met?
She put a hand on Jack’s arm. “Let’s slow down, Jack,” she said. “We can’t do anything for José right now and you need to rest. Where’s Daisy?” Maybe distracting him would help.
Jack sighed and leaned a hip on the table. He rubbed his face with a hand still grimy from smoke.
“One of the neighbors said she’d take her until I got back.”
Mia nodded. “We’ll pick her up on the way home.”
Jack looked at the nurse. “Where are the investigators?” He craned his neck to peer past the curtain pulled snugly around his examination table. “Do they have any leads yet?”
Jess poked her head through the curtain, a paper cup of coffee in each hand.
“How’s he doing?” she asked.
Jack grabbed at the curtain to move it out of his way. “Come on, I’m ready to go. I’m fine.” He turned to Ben. “I’m fine.”
Ben looked at Mia. “We can’t force him to stay,” he said. “I think there’s a prescription for a cortisone inhaler waiting for him at check out, just in—”
“Great,” Jack said, plucking one of the coffees from Jess’s hand and steering her in front of him with the other, “let’s get it and go. Where did you park, Mia?”
But he and Jess were gone before Mia could answer. She turned to Ben. “Sorry about that,” she said. “If he has any problems, I’ll see to it he sees a doctor.”
“That’d be wise. He’s lucky to have you as a friend. He seems pretty impulsive.”
Mia shook her head. “And he’s not at all. He’s just upset.”
“Pretty terrible thing to have happened. To lose your house and a friend all in one night.”
“José wasn’t really a friend,” Mia said. “But if you knew Jack, well, he’ll feel responsible for what happened.”
“Are the two of you…together?”
Mia was on her way out of the curtained enclosure when he asked. She stopped and did a slow turn. He was busy straightening up the room but she could tell he was embarrassed for having asked her.
“No,” she said, realizing when she said it that she felt drawn to Ben. He was tall with broad shoulders and blond. He had a kind face and the longest lashes... “Just friends.”
“You’ll probably think this is a crazy thing to ask in the middle of your tragedy and all but maybe we should stay in touch. You know, to keep an eye on your friend’s condition.”
He looked up from wadding the drape in a ball in his hands and Mia felt a sizzling connection dart between them.
Was this just the worst, most insensitive timing ever? For her to be checking out the cute ER nurse the night after poor José died?
“I think that’s probably a very prudent, responsible idea,” she said.
Jack knew he was driving too fast but he couldn’t help himself. The morning fog was dissipating rapidly, revealing the bones of what was clearly one of the worst days of his life.
He had a good idea of what to expect when he turned off Peachtree Road. It was true he hadn’t been able to see much in the dark when the fire trucks and the EMTs came. His world had been encapsulated by a thick shroud of smoke and a moonless night.
But he knew what to expect.
Mia put a hand on his shoulder but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the road in front of him. Just two more blocks now…
“Jack, you’re scaring me,” she said. “Slow down.”
“Sorry.” But he didn’t change speeds.
Jess sat in the back seat and she disengaged from her seatbelt and leaned forward to put her hand on his shoulder, too.
“I know what you two are doing,” he said, clenching his teeth. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, Jack,” Mia said, squeezing his shoulder. “Physically, maybe.”
He could see it from the end of the street when he turned the corner. The tupelo tree that anchored the front porch was gone. He realized it had been the first thing he saw when he came home each night. He took his foot off the accelerator and slowed the car until it stopped in front of his house.
Where his house used to be.
The area was roped off with yellow tape and wooden barriers. And where before there had been a natty, World War Two era ranch, now there was a blackened crater of charred wood and earth.
The firefighters had managed to save part of the deck, probably intending to contain the blaze. Jack sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the carnage. His car sat parked in the driveway, a blackened hulk from where the fire had spread to it. He could see trees on the far side of Peachtree Creek which before had only been visible from his deck. Now even his neighbors across the street had a creek-side view.
Thanks to the convenient removal of his house.
“Oh, Jack,” Jess gasped from the back seat. “Oh my goodness.”
Mia turned to look at him, her eyes filled with tears. He knew what she was thinking. The house was nothing. Less than nothing.
José.
“What in the world happened?” Mia asked.
He couldn’t look at her or tear his gaze from his destroyed home. The shame and feeling of responsibility seemed to seep from his pores. Seeing it again in daylight…knowing that this was where José died—Jack turned his head away from the sight.
While I scrambled to safety.
“Have you heard back from the police?” Jess asked from the backseat. “Do they know what started it yet?”
Jack grabbed the steering wheel and closed his eyes.
That poor, helpless kid.
Maria sat in the back of the van with twelve other women. Most of them were her age, one was in her forties. The fear was thick in the air, and as real as something you could hold in your hands. No one spoke but their eyes told long and terrible stories.
It was now four days since she and José had been captured. Four days since they left home with promises to send money back. José was so strong, so confident. When she knew he was leaving, she begged him to take her with him. She was smart. She could type. She knew how to cook. These were skills that would bring in money in America.
Now she sat in the back of a van and wondered what her life would be. She wondered where José was and if she would ever see him again. When the van stopped, she watched the other women clutch at each other in fear. They didn’t know where they were going. They didn’t know what would happen when they got there.
It is a contagious thing, fear, Maria thought as her heart began to pound as they waited. She could almost see it jumping from person to person until it landed on her and wrapped its tentacles around her throat—squeezing until she could not breathe.
When the back doors of the van slid open, light broke into the back, but not much. She could see it was raining and was greenish-gray outside. She remembered days like that back in her village. Days she didn’t want to get out of bed.
“Maria?”
It wasn’t the word or the voice so much as the other women turning their heads to look at her that roused Maria from her thoughts.
“Si?” she said, her fear expanding into her breast until she thought she might asphyxiate.
“Come sit up front, darling,’” the voice said.
She peered out through the opening to see the kind man from last night. The one who gave her food and spoke softly to her. He stood outside now with a rain jacket and a cup of something hot and steaming. She went to him and he took her hand and draped the jacket on her.
“Do you like hot chocolate?” he asked.
She looked into his face. And saw only care and love.
“I think I met someone.” Mia pulled the stirrups down from Shiloh’s saddle and slipped her hand between him and the girth.
Ned patted the neck of his Palomino mare. “I’m listening, girlfriend,” he said easily, a grin breaking across his handsome features. Ned was new to the barn, having brought his horse in from a boarding facility in Dawsonville just the month before. Mia hadn’t gotten all the particulars from him on why he’d made the move but she had a pretty good idea.
“He’s the nurse who took care of Jack when he was brought into the ER.”
“Dishy?”
“Supremely so. I think he liked me, too.”
“Why is it I feel like I’m back in high school? Are you going to tell me no phone numbers were exchanged? You got my hopes up there for a minute.”
Mia laughed and led Shiloh over to the mounting block. “Yes, I gave him my number. He hasn’t called yet.”
Ned swung up into the saddle on his mare and began adjusting the stirrup lengths to fit his long legs. “What’s it been? Six whole hours?”
“Something like that. He looked exhausted when I met him. Like he was on the tail end of a night shift. Which, as it happens, he was.”
“Does this mean you’re giving up on Jack? Let’s hit the west pasture today. The barn manager said there was flooding on the banks of the river. Dixie here hates water.”
“Sure, that sounds good.” Mia stepped up onto the mounting block and hopped onto Shiloh’s back. He moved away as soon as she was in the saddle.
“You need to make him stop that,” Ned said, wagging his crop in her direction.
“I know. It’s a bad habit.”
“One of these days you’re gonna need to get on him fast and he’s going to be half way down the gateway without you.”
“I have yet to have an emergency mount-up out here,” she said dryly, trotting over to where Ned waited for her. “And to answer your question, Jack has made no movements in my direction. Not since before we found Dave’s killer.”
“You think there’s a connection?”
“No, I just use that as a timeline.”
“Oh, darling girl, you aren’t thinking of making the poor man jealous, are you? Because, believe me, that almost never goes well.”
“Not at all. I like Ben a lot.”
“I knew a Ben once,” Ned said with a sigh as the two rode side by side to the pasture entrance.
“Do I want to know?”
“No, my darling. Trust me, you don’t.
Mia laughed. When her mother suggested she forget what was going on with José and Maria for just an afternoon and go to the barn to relax, Mia thought there was no way she could unwind from everything that was going on. But fifteen minutes in the company of her horse and a new friend and she was already laughing.
The power of distraction, she thought.
“Have you given any more thought to my offer?”
Mia felt some of the pleasure of the afternoon pinch away. “No, Ned,” she said. “I can honestly say I haven’t. Why do you want two horses anyway?”
“I told you. I’d like to bring a friend out now and then. I need a gentle soul to put him on. Most of my friends don’t ride. Correction. None of my friends ride.”
Mia leaned down and gave Shiloh’s neck a solid pat. “I could never sell him,” she said. “I feel like we’ve been through too much together. It’d be like selling my left leg or something.”
“But you’re still leasing him out?”
“Half-leasing him,” she said frowning. The board at the barn was costly. The pasture board—where she kept Shiloh—was less than half that and still too expensive for Mia without a job. “You know you can borrow him any time.”
“I know,” he said, sighing. “I guess I’m just hung up on ownership.”
“Well, I’m flattered but I can’t imagine what could ever make me change my mind.”
“That’s fine. I’ll leave it until next time.”
The two crested the main hill that gave them a vantage point of nearly the entire farm. Below them was the pond where most of the pastured horses were gathered around. Beyond that to the east, Mia could just make out the tree line that fringed the banks of the Chattahoochee. She looked to the north. As far as she knew this area was private pasture and fallow fields. There were no subdivisions for at least ten miles past it. It was the area where José had come from.
Had fled from.
Ned kicked his legs out of his stirrups and let them hang on either side of his horse. “It’s beautiful,” he said.
“Was it as nice at your last barn?”
He gave her a sideways look and then returned his gaze to the vista before him. “To answer your unspoken question, there were a lot of major macho equestrians there.”
“It’s unusual to have many male riders at a barn.”
“True, but this barn was attached to the Atlanta Polo Club.”
“Oh, so horse riders but not necessarily horse lovers.”
“Exactly. Let’s just say I didn’t fit in. When I was in Colorado, I used to compete in the Equestrian Iron Man. Ever heard of it?”
Mia shook her head.
“Most of the tools at my last barn wouldn’t even be able to qualify, let alone compete in it,” Ned said with disgust.
“What does the Iron Man entail?”
Ned shrugged. “The usual. Cross country, then archery and finally ending up in the water.”
“And all of it on horseback?”
“Just like in days of old. Those a-holes at my last barn couldn’t pull a bow string with both legs planted on the ground, let alone on a horse at full gallop.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“At least somebody is. Don’t listen to me. I’m just whining. The truth is I’m glad to be at Shakerag and I should’ve left my other barn long ago.”
“You’re not whining. And I’m glad as hell you came to Shakerag.”
He turned and gave her a grateful smile. They sat in silence surveying the view beneath them.
“Ned? You ever hear of human trafficking?”
“Sounds sexy.”
“Well, it isn’t. In fact, I understand it’s mostly enforced labor.”
“You’re right. Much less sexy. You think that’s what the Mexican boy was running from?”
“That’s what Jack thinks.”
“I still can’t believe the kid died and Jack’s house burned to the ground. Is the house a total goner?”
“Looks like it.” Mia didn’t want to remember the look on Jack’s face this morning when they drove back to his neighborhood to pick up Daisy.
The look on his face when he saw the blackened crater that used to be his home.
And where José had died.
“Where’s he going to live now?”
“I’m not really sure.”
“You have room, right?”
Mia gave Ned a sideways look. “I see what you’re doing, Ned,” she said.
“What am I doing?”
“Well, it’s a good point. He probably should stay with me until he can sort out another living arrangement.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket.
“I can’t believe you ride with that thing. What’s the point of coming out here if you insist on staying technologically tethered?”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” she said, punching in Jack’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey,” he said. “You on your way back yet? We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“You still at my mom’s?”
“Maxwell is here to give me a lift.”
“Tell him to take you to my place.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. Hit K-Mart first for a toothbrush and PJs.”
“Thanks, Mia. I mean it.”
“No problem,” she said, feeling an unbidden rush of emotion close up her throat. “That’s what partners are for,” she said hoarsely. “See you later.” She disconnected.
“You and your mushy talk,” Ned said. “I was getting hot just listening to it.”
“Shut up.”
“How long you two going to dance around this thing between you?”
“There is no thing between us, ergo there is no dancing. Want to race to the salt lick?”
“Downhill? With the grass still slippery from the rain? What am I? The Man from Snowy River?”
Mia laughed. It felt good. The laughing, the sun on her back, Shiloh warm and responsive under her, the thought of Jack waiting for her back at her place…
She shook the thought out of her head. Knock it off, Mia. If he’d wanted something with you, he’d have made a move by now.
“You should bring Ben out to the barn as soon as possible.”
She frowned. “What? Why?”
“I find prospective mates are very telling in this environment. If they hate it immediately—the smell, the barn dogs, well, you’ll know in advance what you’re in for. Most husbands loathe their wives’ horse hobby. You know that, right?”
Mia urged Shiloh down the steep incline and Ned followed. “I do know that,” she said. “Any theories as to why?”
“Is jealousy still a good motive for bad behavior?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then there you are. I’ve yet to meet a man who didn’t accuse me of loving my horse more than him.”
“It’s because they need so much time and attention.”
“Are you talking about the horse or the man?”
Mia laughed. “Both. Plus horses are expensive.”
“This is true. It is a very magnanimous husband who is okay with the constant outflow of cash in the direction of the barn.”
“The answer’s still no to buying Shiloh, Ned.”
Ned shrugged. “Can’t fault me for trying.”
Mia closed her legs around Shiloh and felt him shift into the next gear. The trot erupted into a canter and then a gallop when she saw Ned out of the corner of her eye racing to keep up. And for the next ten minutes, she let nothing in the way of the pure joy of the day and the sky and the wind as it enveloped her and carried her away.
Jack hung up the phone.
“Everything all right?” Bill Maxwell sat with Jess at her kitchen table, two mugs of coffee in front of them. He’d come over midmorning to brief Jack on what he knew so far about the fire.
Which was precisely nothing.
Jack returned to the kitchen and his own cooling mug of coffee. “She’s invited me to bunk in at her place until…” He shrugged and sat down.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it,” Jess said.
“You ready?” he said to Maxwell.
“Sure.” Maxwell took a last sip of coffee, stood and leaned over to kiss Jess on the cheek while Jack walked to the front door.
“Thanks, Jess,” Jack called to her. “For everything, as usual.”
“Please take care, Jack,” she called back.
“Will do.” Jack moved outside to stand by Maxwell’s car while the Deputy Chief said a more private goodbye to Jess. It was weird seeing the two of them together. Especially since Maxwell’s last relationship was with a woman built like a Victoria’s Secret model and sleeping with half the people on the squad.
Don’t think ill of the dead.
He turned at the sound of Maxwell’s keyless entry and climbed into the passenger side.
“You two seem to have gotten close,” Jack said casually when Maxwell started the car.
“That a problem?”
“None of my business.”
“Kind of what I was thinking.”
Jack let the moment pass. Having Maxwell—his ex-boss at the precinct and not someone he always got along with—this close to Jack’s inner circle of friends was a good thing and a not so good thing. With the relationship providing possible access to police resources, he decided he’d be better off concentrating on how it was a good thing. At least for now.
“So you really have no new information about the fire at my place?”
“Investigations aren’t finished,” Maxwell said, pulling onto Peachtree Industrial Boulevard and heading south.
“Sometimes investigators make predictions based on what they’re seeing,” Burton said dryly, “even before the investigation is officially finished.”
“That’s true, they do,” Maxwell said.
“Is there a problem, sir?”
“You know you don’t have to call me that anymore,” Maxwell growled. “And under the circumstances, I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“What would you prefer I call you?”
“Bill will do.”
Bill? Was he really going to call the Chief Deputy—his ranking superior for fifteen years by his first name?
“Okay, Bill,” he said.
They drove in silence for several minutes before Maxwell spoke again. “Look, I promised Jess I wouldn’t say anything, but keeping mum is not my style if I’ve got a burr under my saddle.”
Jack looked at him expectantly. What the hell was he talking about?
“You and Mia. There’s nothing there, right?”
That was not what he expected Maxwell to say.
“How is that any of your business?”
“It is my business because everything that has to do with Jess is my business and she’s worried about the girl.”
“Worried, how? Why?”
“You don’t need to know the details. But it seems she’s gotten herself hooked up with some guy at the barn where she rides and Jess is a little worried.”
The words tumbling out of Maxwell’s mouth hit Jack in the stomach like a cannon ball to the gut.
Mia is seeing someone? How the hell did I not know this?
He cleared his throat. “Jess doesn’t like the guy?” The bastard! Of course, Jess doesn’t like him. Jess is an amazingly astute judge of character.
“She hasn’t met him,” Maxwell said. “And I think that’s the problem.”
“I see.”
“I figured the two of you weren’t together. A blind man could see that. But Jess thought otherwise, is all.”
Stop worrying, Jess. I did stupidly promise you, didn’t I?
“Nope,” Jack said, his stomach churning. Can this day get any worse? “We are not together.”
“Well, good. Keep it that way. No offense, but you are the last thing that girl needs.”
No offense taken you fat bag of lard.
“Naturally not,” Jack said, staring out the window as they exited from I-285 onto I-85.
“Okay, good.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence until Maxwell was nearly at Mia’s condo in Atlantic Station. Jack hadn’t bothered asking him to stop so he could pick up toiletries mostly because he didn’t have any money and he figured he’d rather lay down in the middle of the Connector during rush hour than ask Maxwell to loan him twenty bucks.
“Listen, Jack, I know this has been a rotten start to your day what with your house burning down and all and I probably shouldn’t say anything but I’m gonna throw you a bone here. I figure you’ll find out soon enough.”
What the hell else did the fat bastard have to say? Could he ruin this day any more than he already had?
“It’s about the kid who died on your watch.”
Jack felt the nausea ratchet up in his gut as the familiar blanket of guilt dropped down on him once more. “What about him?” he managed to say.
“The coroner determined cause of death.”
Jack snapped his head around. “He died in the fire.”
“Actually, he didn’t,” Maxwell said, pulling into Mia’s condo parking lot. He stopped the car and looked at Jack as if trying to make up his mind about something. “Turns out,” he said finally, “the poor kid had his throat slit.”
To see what happens next, order Shameless, Book 2 of the Mia Kazmaroff Mysteries.