Beyond Innocence Read online

  “Ah, come on, Calvin. Is that how you treat all the patrons in your boss’s bar?”

  Calvin sneered and growled through a clenched jaw. “He’s not my boss. We’re partners. And I’ll ask you again, what the hell do you want?”

  “We’d like to speak to your partner. Is he available?”

  Pete’s gaze flicked to Faye, who had drawn in on herself, pulling back from Calvin and visibly trying to inch away from the small group of men. Her face was pale, and her skin coated with a thin sheen of sweat. Her hands were clenched into tight wads that were going white at the knuckles. Her nervousness intrigued him.

  “I’m sure you know that Tate hasn’t quite managed to return from his last trip,” said Calvin helpfully.

  Pete nodded. “That’s right. How could I forget? How long has he been gone now? A month? Two?”

  “Closer to two, and I’m starting to figure that I’ve inherited the place. He took off without a word. Left me with all this responsibility, and not so much as a please or thank you.”

  Pete shook his head in mock sympathy. “Ungrateful bastard.”

  “Damn right. Now, what do you want? You know I run a clean place here. Stick to all the by-laws, got my liquor license. Everything’s in order. You got nothing on me.”

  Faye had almost made it to the end of the bar, and Pete could swear she was going to make a run for it any minute.

  “It seems that ungrateful SOB has a father who is concerned for his welfare. Jeremiah has filed a formal missing persons report on his son.”

  “No kidding. Well, ain’t that a bitch?” Calvin’s grin was smug and as always it set Pete’s teeth on edge.

  “It also just so happens that my partner went missing about the same time as yours did.”

  Calvin nodded.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Calvin?”

  “Me? No. Why would I? But I’ll be honest, your partner was a pain in the ass. Maybe he and Tate killed each other in a fucking duel for all I know. God knows they wanted to. I’ll be straight with ya, Petey, I’m glad they’re both outta my hair. But I got no idea where they went or why. Tate didn’t say boo to me before he left. Faye, neither.”

  “He just up and left his business, his wife and his kid. Just like that?”

  “Yep. Left me to pick up the pieces.” The grin turned lascivious.

  “Yeah. I’ll bet.” Calvin pointed his chin in Kyle’s direction. “Who’s that?”

  “Kyle. New partner.”

  Calvin’s acting skills sucked. He could barely contain his glee at hearing that Pete had been assigned a new partner. He was practically dancing inside his skin. He tried to suppress his smile, but his mouth twitched and his eyes glittered. “New partner? So that means Sam is probably…” He held up a hand. “Oh. Sorry. I guess that might be a little sensitive still.”

  Pete seethed and sensed Kyle’s eyes on him.

  “My sympathies,” said Calvin with a mournful shake of his head. “Losing a partner is tough. Believe me. I know.”

  Pete didn’t bother to even attempt self-control. His hands lashed out with his brain’s absolute approval. They grabbed Calvin’s shirt and rammed him back against the bar. Pete stepped in close, his body pressing Calvin’s firmly against the polished oak and brass and his breath on Calvin’s face. “Do you?”

  “Hey!” croaked Calvin. “You can’t—”

  “Shut up, Carter! You’re an asshole and I can do anything I damn well please.” He heard Kyle warning him to control himself but he ignored it. “You’re also an idiot and eventually you’re going to fuck up. Without your buddy around keeping you out of trouble you’re eventually going to grind this place into the dust, and no doubt get your ass thrown in jail to boot.”

  “You—”

  “I said shut up! If I find out you had anything to do with Sam’s disappearance—or Tate’s, for that matter—I’ll be on you faster than flies on shit.”

  “You got nothing on me.”

  “Oh no? How about motive and opportunity?”

  Calvin blinked. “Huh?”

  Pete finally released him and stepped back, making a show of smoothing the already skin-tight jersey material over Calvin’s chest. “You had a lot to gain from Tate’s disappearance—his bars, his wife, and maybe a stash of money.”

  Calvin licked his lips and his eyes darted from Pete to Kyle and then back again.

  “And then there’s Sam. He’s been a pain in the behind of this place since day one. If you got rid of Tate, then you’d have to do Sam, too, because without Tate to keep the heat off you’d be screwed in the face of Sam’s constant scrutiny.” He idly wondered if Calvin even knew what “scrutiny” meant. But he figured he was getting the message loud and clear. Sweat had already plastered Calvin’s hair to his greasy forehead, and a twitch had manifested in his left eye. Pete allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. There was nothing quite like making a guilty perp squirm. And there were none more guilty than this one.

  “You’re crazy, Gruber.”

  “And you’re a moron.” He poked Calvin in the chest with a finger that was as stiff as a pool cue. “You’re going to screw up, Calvin. And when you do I’ll be there. If you hurt Sam you’re going down, and you’re going down hard.”

  “How do you know Tate didn’t kill him and take off?”

  “Tate’s not that dumb. But you are, Carter. You definitely are.”

  Just as Pete hoped, Calvin’s face flooded with color. His fists clenched and he was obviously holding himself back from launching at Pete by a sheer effort of will.

  “Get out,” growled Calvin.

  “We’re leaving.” Pete turned and motioned for Kyle to follow. “But make no mistake, Carter. I’ll be watching. And I’ll be waiting. You’re a ticking time bomb and I can hardly wait for the clock to run out.” He turned as if to walk away, but then suddenly whirled back and blasted in Calvin’s face, “BOOM!”

  Calvin jumped. “Fuck off, Gruber.”

  Pete was laughing as he and Kyle exited the lounge.

  They stepped out into the heavy, humid air of the summer evening. They stopped to breathe and cleanse their nostrils of the thick smoke and pungent aromas of chicken wings and sweat.

  Kyle ventured, “You think you called him ‘stupid’ enough?”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  Kyle lifted his eyebrows. “You made him mad intentionally.”

  “Yep. I knew he was sensitive about Tate being a notch or two above him on the evolutionary ladder, and I wanted to exploit that. Maybe, with a little luck, he’ll try to prove that he’s smarter than I think he is. He’ll want to show up Tate, and I have no doubt that in the process he’ll make a mistake. Somewhere, somehow, Calvin is going to screw himself and I want to be there.”

  “But will that lead us to Sam?”

  “Probably not. But it’ll still make me feel better.”

  “Tate’s wife seemed awfully nervous.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “Think she’s in on it? Think she had a part in doing her own husband?”

  Pete started to move toward their car. “Yep, partner, I certainly do.”

  “Shouldn’t we talk to her, too?”

  Pete considered his answer carefully. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Eventually. But she has to be handled with kid gloves. The cops who investigated Sam’s disappearance talked to both of them.” He grunted in disgust. “Damn rookies. Needless to say, they got nowhere.”

  “She’s terrified of Calvin,” observed Kyle.

  Pete nodded approval, genuinely impressed by his own rookie’s perceptiveness. “She’d be crazy not to be. He’s slime with a capital ‘S’, and he’s got her firmly under his thumb. We won’t get a word out of her as long as he’s hovering around.”

  The duo reached the car and settled into their usual seats.

  “Besides,” added Pete with a wry smile, “I can’t exactly haul her down to the precinct and grill her, can I? Sinc
e we’re vice and have no business investigating a possible homicide.”

  But Kyle didn’t seem to hear him. His eyes remained glued to the entrance to The Pit. “I may have never met this Tate, but I can’t imagine Faye got a better deal if she’s sharing a bed with Calvin now,” he said with a slight shudder.

  “Yeah. She’s not terribly smart either. But I bet Calvin doesn’t care how often she tokes up or does a line or two.”

  Kyle nodded understanding, and then his expression changed. “Poor kid.”

  He needed to say no more. “I know. At least Scott has a mom who cares. Little Tanner Barton pretty much has to look out for himself.”

  “Is there anything—”

  “Don’t go there, Kyle. You start down that path and you’ll just make yourself crazy. Tanner’s hardly a unique case. There’s a million like him in this country and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Except lock ‘em up when they rob their first liquor store.”

  Pete shrugged in resignation. “Yep. I’m afraid that’s pretty much it.” He turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine. “That’s pretty much it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Calgary, Alberta

  Luke closed his eyes and inhaled. He drank in the heavy buttery scent of popcorn and the tangy aroma of spicy hot dogs. There was a faint muskiness that he presumed came from the animal pens and the horses on the other side of Stampede Park. He could hear burgers sizzling in a booth to his right. No one could come to the Calgary Stampede without sampling some of Alberta’s famous beef on a bun.

  That was what Marnie had said. There was pride in her eyes and a certain set to her shoulders when she talked about her home and the world-famous rodeo that drew thousands to the city each year.

  Should he share that same pride? Was this his home? Odd, but it didn’t feel like it. He was comfortable here, but it didn’t feel like home. But then again, he could very possibly walk into the house where he had grown up, stand in the room that had been his own since childhood, and still feel like a stranger.

  He opened his eyes and took in the bouquet of colored lights, the whirling Ferris wheel, and the bustling crowd. Children screamed in delight as the rides tossed them to and fro, lovers nuzzled quietly in the buckets, and the elderly watched it all with a whimsical air that spoke of days gone by and a youth lost to the tides of time.

  Luke soaked it in—the sights, the scents, the sounds, the people. It all had a flavor of festivity and warmth that fizzed on his tongue and tingled on his fingertips.

  He felt a tug on his hand. “Enjoying yourself?” Marnie was dressed in the standard Stampede uniform—jeans, cowboy boots, and a plain white T-shirt. She had declined the hat, stating simply that it was too hot to put anything on her head. To his disappointment she had elected to put her hair back up in that braid, using the excuse that it might get caught in the mechanisms of the midway rides. She pushed her glasses up her nose, and he suppressed the urge to slip them off her face so he could enjoy an unhindered view of her eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered at last, with a drawl that came to him with surprising ease.

  “I could tell.”

  “How?”

  He half-expected a chuckle, but, instead, when he looked at her there was only a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Your eyes are so big I almost think I could fall in.”

  That made him laugh. “It’s…” He sighed and let his gaze roam across the fairgrounds once more. “Exciting. It’s like being caught in a storm of light.”

  She didn’t respond immediately. Then, when Luke returned his eyes to focus on her, she said slowly, “Luke, I think I’m—” She didn’t finish. Instead, her eyes dropped to the ground. “How are the boots?”

  Luke looked to the pointy black toes beneath his already worn jeans. He scuffed them in the dirt, thinking they looked far too new and he looked far too much like a tourist. “A little snug, but no blisters yet.” He squeezed the other hand that was latched firmly in his. “How ‘bout you, Tiff? How’s the new outfit?”

  Tiffany frowned as she looked down at her own brand-new boots and jeans, which Marnie had splurged on for the occasion. Most of the wardrobe that had accompanied Tiffany had consisted of skirts and flowered T-shirts and blouses. There had been one pair of shorts and a pair of leggings. But Marnie had insisted that nothing but jeans would do for their outing that evening.

  Tiffany raised her eyes to Luke’s. She shook her head slowly. “Daddy wouldn’t like it.”

  “But do you like it?” persisted Marnie.

  Instead of answering Tiffany addressed Luke. “Do you?”

  He looked her up and down thoroughly before answering. “Does it matter what I think?”

  “Yeah.”

  Luke cocked his head. “Why?”

  Tiffany just stared at him, her mouth set in a grim line and her dark brows knitted in concentration. Luke could almost hear the little-used wheels grinding into action. When she still didn’t answer he swept her up and propped her on his hip. “It only really matters what you think.” He glanced at Marnie. “See, you should learn from your aunt. I like her hair down. I think she’s a lot prettier with it loose around her shoulders. But she knows what’s best for her, and she ignores me when she likes.”

  Marnie quirked a half-smile. “And that’s just as it should be.”

  Luke nodded solemnly. “Yep. If I got my way all the time just think how spoiled I’d get.”

  Tiffany gazed down at her jeans once more. “It’s okay. But I think I like my dresses better.”

  “Rats,” muttered Marnie. “I was hoping for at least one more tomboy in the family.”

  Luke winked at her and they walked on, pressing through the crowd and enjoying the festive atmosphere and each other’s company.

  “Can I have a hot dog?” asked Tiffany as she eyed a juicy morsel that passed by in the pudgy fingers of a wide-eyed toddler.

  “Sure.” But Marnie tugged on Luke’s hand, leading them deeper into the midway. “But first I want to go on a couple of rides. I think it would be better to eat later and avoid throwing up, if at all possible.”

  “Gee,” murmured Luke as he felt Tiffany’s arms tighten around his neck. “You make it sound like such an adventure.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a wuss,” chided Marnie as she came to the end of the line for the Ferris wheel.

  Tiffany hazarded a glance at the imposing edifice with the swinging seats and the bright lights. She watched the swirling motion of the enormous wheel, and Luke winced as tiny fingers dug into his skin.

  “I don’t wanna,” she whispered, burying her face in the cradle of his neck. “It’s too high. I wanna go home.”

  He watched Marnie’s face fall. She had warned him that this was a possibility. Tiffany was petrified of almost any new experience. It was a constant source of frustration to her parents and, of course, to Marnie. Tiffany’s first trip to the dentist, her first swimming lesson, her first day of kindergarten, her first time on an airplane—all had been traumatic encounters that had brought on either catatonic withdrawal or full-fledged panic attacks. As she grew and was exposed to more new things the situation seemed to be gradually improving, but it was a slow and tedious process that continued to cause those who loved her a significant amount of distress.

  Luke whispered in her ear. “I know exactly how you feel, you know.”

  She sniffled and refused to lift her head. “No, you don’t.”

  He hugged her tight. “Yes, I do. Do you remember when I told you that I didn’t remember anything before I got hurt?”

  She nodded, her face still plastered to his shoulder.

  “Look at me, Tiff. This is important.”

  With a final sniffle, she slowly lifted her head and regarded him doubtfully.

  “This will be my first time on a Ferris wheel, too.”

  “You’re fibbing.”

  “I am not. I might have been on one when I was little like you, but I don’t reme
mber. So it’s just like the first time.”

  “It is?”

  “Uh-huh. I know it’s scary.” He glanced at Marnie, but only briefly before returning his gaze to the frightened bundle in his arms. “I know it’s hard to understand, since I’m so much bigger and older than you, but I’m scared every day.”

  Tiffany chewed on her lip as she considered this incredible development.

  “I was scared to leave the hospital because I didn’t know what I’d find outside. I was a little scared of the cars and traffic lights until Marnie explained them to me. I was scared to try to learn to read again, because what if I tried and found out I couldn’t? I’m learning more every day, and Marnie helps me with things all the time, but I’m still scared. It’s a big world, and there’s still so much I don’t know, still so much I haven’t tried—”

  “Are you scared to go on the big wheel?”

  “A little, but you know what?”

  “What?”

  “It’s exciting too. And I know that if I don’t try those new things I’ll never stop being scared.”

  She studied him in the soft glow that fell from the colored lights and street lamps. As if she were testing the authenticity of his story she touched the scar on his cheek again, tracing it carefully from his nose to the corner of his eye. At last she seemed satisfied. “Will you hold me tight?”

  “Only if you hold me back.”

  She smiled, and he knew he’d won. “Okay. And I promise I won’t scream.”

  Marnie laughed, but Luke thought he caught a glint of something shimmering in the corner of her eye. “Oh, Tiff, you don’t have to worry about that. Screaming is half the fun.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were snuggled up on the cold metal seat and the restraining bar was swung closed and latched into place. Tiffany’s fingers dug into Luke’s thigh like tiny talons but he made no protest. He just hugged her tight, put his other arm around Marnie and basked in the glow of being important to somebody.

  The motor ground to life and they were slowly lifted up a few feet, and then stopped to allow the next set of passengers to board. The cycle was repeated three more times, and Tiffany’s grip never relaxed. At one point Luke actually glanced down at his leg, half-expecting to see blood oozing through the denim. They were at the top of the wheel as the last of the passengers were tended to before the circuit began.