Justice for Elyxandre (Six Paths to Justice #2)

Chapter 1 The Not-So-Triumphant Return

THE NOT-SO-TRIUMPHANT RETURN

ELYXANDRE

“Are you sure this job is what you want, E? I mean, our alma mater doesn’t hold the best of memories for you, let alone San Antonio. Of all of us, I was certain you’d never come back here.”

Elyxandre Hookstead walked the arcade of Elysium, wide-eyed and mouth agape, marveling at all her friends, Tripoli, Cosmos, and Triumph, had accomplished.

She wasn’t sure where to look at any given moment, and she was so busy staring at the trapeze act above her, she felt herself walk up on the heels of her friend.

“Sorry.” Despite the collision, her eyes and words were still glued to the trio above her. “What did you say?”

Tripoli chuckled. “I’ll take your distraction as a compliment. I asked if you were sure about taking this job. It’s not exactly the streets of New Orleans.”

She could lie to her friend, but he would sniff that out in a second, so she didn’t bother to try.

Sighing, her eyes lowered to stare into the distance of the arcade. “Knox.”

He stopped short, one hand brushing through his dark-blond hair. “Knox,” he growled. “What did the fucker do now?”

“Trip—”

“Don’t ‘Trip’ me. I disliked that piece of fuck from the moment you started dating him. What did he do?” He delivered his question in staccato.

“Same shit, different day. He made me feel like a woman had no place being a police officer. In HR, dispatch, or reception? Sure. Even better if I were stuck away in some filing room. After working a year or two, I should have wanted to pop out kids and be a stay-at-home mom, not seeking a promotion to detective. I didn’t, so he began his campaign of war on my reputation. ”

“Definitely a piece of fuck,” Tripoli murmured.

She smiled at the creative swear. “That he was.”

He started walking along the promenade of games, food trucks, and attractions, an arm slung casually over her shoulders. “You finally going to tell me what happened? You haven’t said a word to any of us in two decades.”

“We weren’t exactly talking during those two decades,” she reminded him.

Exasperated, he squeezed her tightly to his side for a moment.

“I’m sorry. When you didn’t return my calls, I figured you’d put San Antonio in the past. We knew you were in pain, and we didn’t want to dredge up more bad memories, so we let it go.

I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen.

I should have hunted you down and made sure.

” He gave a short laugh. “Still don’t know how we avoided crossing paths, what with our club in New Orleans. ”

Shaking her head, her smile got a little bigger.

Still the same old Tripoli, frowning and growling like a dog guarding a bone he’d buried, dug up, and buried again, on endless repeat.

There were more lines on his face now after twenty-two years, but it was basically the same scowl he’d worn back in high school whenever he was pursuing something.

“We were like two ships passing in the night. You started there about the time I was leaving, and before that, you were a little busy with the military. Coming to my rescue once was enough.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed his hip.

“Even if you’d come, I probably wouldn’t have listened.

My head was already so far up my ass, if he’d come with a warning label, I likely would have just shrugged my shoulders and thrown it away. ”

“Well, I’m glad you called now. We all are. So… what’s the story?”

She really didn’t want to go into it, but she also knew he wasn’t going to let it go. “Long version or short version?”

“The long version is probably going to piss me off and require some expensive bourbon and some target practice. Gimme the short version so that I don’t abandon my fiancée and go hunting down the sonofabitch.”

“What everyone always worries about working with a significant other will do, I guess.” She flashed her VIP card at a passing skimpily dressed waitress in a sequined top hat, matching rainbow jacket over a black leotard, fishnets, and sky-high laced boots.

Even her face shone with glittery makeup and rhinestone appliques.

Elyxandre ran the card through the reader that charged her purchase to Tripoli’s personal account and selected a cone of raspberry pucker cotton candy.

“Conflicts of interest. Trash-talking me to our colleagues. Undercutting me to our chief. Flashing resentment my way when I ‘showed him up.’” She pulled a hunk of the candy floss off the stick and waved it in Tripoli’s direction.

“His words, not mine.” Popping the sugary treat into her mouth, she moaned in delight as the sour taste hit her tongue.

“So good,” she mumbled, refusing to allow her taste buds to let go of the dissolving strands.

When Tripoli reached for a chunk of her cotton candy, she smacked his hand. “Hey! Get your own.” Watching him smile, all teeth and loud laughter, she knew her chastisement was useless, and her smile matched his own.

“But a school resource officer? I’m not sure being surrounded by all those uncontrolled hormones is better than dealing with the good-ole-boy network.”

“I started applying for positions at other stations, even if it meant taking backward steps, but again, no job offers came. Turns out, rumors spread to other stations that I was bad news. Always complaining about work assignments. Sloppy work ethic. Constantly harped about being expected to do the same work as the men. Claimed I was toxic to the culture of the office. Result—no new job. So, either I moved away or tried something different. I chose both. Hours are just as shitty, pay is worse, but I’m the only officer in the building, and I work for a private police department that is headed by the superintendent.

And that’s why I moved back to San Antonio. ”

They walked a few steps in silence.

When he spoke again, she heard the scowl return without having to see it. “Have you talked to your father since coming back?”

“No reason to. That part of my life is long gone. He has no reason to be at the school grounds for anything, and San Antonio is a big place. Top that with when I dumped my married name, I took my grandmother’s maiden name instead of my sperm donor’s.

Even if he heard my name, people mispronounce it constantly, so between that and his perpetual foggy state from drugs and alcohol, he probably wouldn’t even register it was me. ”

“Another piece of fuck,” Tripoli said.

“I seem to attract them.”

“Hey!” He punched her in the shoulder. “You dated me in high school. I’d like to think I was not a piece of fuck.”

She shoulder-checked him with a smile. “No, you were not. In fact, you were the highlight of high school.”

“Aww, shucks.” He shoulder-checked her back.

They stood watching a clown make a balloon penis hat for a groom in a bachelor party. Elyxandre laughed at how mortified the guy was, although he was taking the teasing of his buddies in stride.

She glanced at Tripoli. “That gonna be you soon?”

His eyes widened in horror, although they never left the group. “Fuck, no! God only knows what circle of stupid Cosmos would try to come up with for a bachelor party, so Francesca and I have told no one when we’re getting married. Or where.”

“Las Vegas?”

“Francesca said Las Vegas was too cheesy. She’s scared I’ll have us getting married in a drive-through chapel or by an Elvis impersonator.

Like I’d do that to her. I was thinking of a classy hotel chapel.

She suggested just going to the courthouse and calling it done so that it’s over with, but I want her to have an actual wedding with our friends.

” His expression became hard but sad at the same time.

“She won’t have blood family there, so she needs to have her friends there. Her chosen family.”

She stood on tiptoe and gave his cheek a quick peck. “You’re a good man, Tripoli. I wish there were more of you out there.”

He turned to look at her. “They’re out there, E. They’re not all like that douchebag you married.”

“Maybe. But he was enough to turn me off the whole idea of dating. And marriage? Hell to the no. Once was enough.”

“Never say never. Did you ever think I’d consider it?”

“I figured you would eventually. Not while you were in the Navy. Definitely not while deployed with the Raiders. Too dangerous, and you’d never put someone in the position of losing you. Too much of a caretaker. Look at what you did for me.”

He put his arm around her again and kissed the side of her head. “I would have finished it that night, E. We all would have. Still will if he, or your piece of fuck ex-husband, comes at you again. You know that, right?”

She tossed her empty cotton candy cone in the nearby garbage, then grasped his hands in hers. With earnest eyes meeting his concerned gaze, she squeezed them tight. “I do. And thank you. I know I said it back then, but I’ll keep saying it. The five of you were the only way I survived that hell.”

She shuddered, remembering the final showdown between her father and Tripoli during her senior year of high school.

He and their friends likely saved her life that fateful night.

That experience would live with her for a long time.

She no longer woke up terrified, screaming, and sweating in tangled-up sheets, but horrors like that did not go away with time, and she suppressed those memories as much as she could.

They began walking again, heading over to the Big Top, the outdoor tented dance floor. Multicolored strobe lights bounced in a frenzy as guests moved to the DJ spinning Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance.”

“Why isn’t Francesca with us?” she asked out of the blue.

She had intended to ask him earlier when they left her in the office, but he had been explaining how the guys came up with the club's concept, and then she was completely distracted once she stepped into the labyrinth.

“I thought we got along okay earlier. Is it weird for me to be here?”

“No. She’s more than secure with it. It’s just—” His face took on a pinched look as he surveyed the dance floor. He didn’t continue right away, and his shoulders bunched. He was processing.

After a few moments, he rolled them, tilting his head left, then right.

He shoved his hands into his dress pants pockets, but she could tell he clenched them because they stuck out from his body.

“Elysium had some trouble last year. Someone brutally tortured and murdered three women associated with the club. Francesca was the FBI agent in charge of the investigation, and the case turned out to be… personal. The club holds very uncomfortable memories for her. For all of us, really, but while everyone else seems to have bounced back, she feels more secure in the office than out wandering around.”

“I’m sorry. We could have met somewhere else.”

Shaking his head, he turned to face her, drawing his now-unclenched hands out of his pockets. “This was easier for you, and she said she needed to get out for a bit. However, she wanted to let me catch up with you one-on-one. We’ll have you out to the house another time.”

“I can’t wait to see it. Cosmos said it’s gorgeous, and it’s not even done yet.”

“Yeah. Francesca’s done a great job with the design.” He clapped his hands and turned, walking back toward the food trucks. “Hungry?” he asked. “My treat. I’m supposed to bring her birria quesadillas tonight.”

“Quesadillas?” she asked, emphasizing the s. “I saw someone with one earlier. They’re huge!”

“Yeah. She’s been craving them all day. Warning you now. We might have to just put them through the door, then lock her inside my office and go eat somewhere else. If we try to go in there with her, she’s likely to use her agent moves on us and hurt something vital.”

She put a hand on his arm, stopping him again. “Craving? Violence over food? Trip, are you holding out on us?”

He looked stunned for a second, then relaxed. “Umm… no?”

“Nice try, goofass. She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

He relented. “It’s a good thing I’m not an undercover agent. I’d rat myself out the first day. Yes, but say nothing to anyone, okay? We didn’t want to tell anyone we were trying since she’s in that ‘geriatric pregnancy’ category, and we weren’t sure if she could get pregnant.”

“Congratulations, Trip. I’m so happy for you. You’re going to be an awesome dad.”

He beamed. “Thanks.”

Normally the broody one in their circle of friends, she was thrilled to see him so openly happy.

“Do you know what you’re having yet? I’m not sure how that all works.”

“She just had a blood test done because she couldn’t wait. The result says we’re having a boy.”

“Aww… Another little Tripoli. Bet he’s a caretaker, just like his daddy. Gonna hafta beat girls off with a stick.”

“Better than a girl and having to show boys the guns in my safe,” he joked. “So, birria quesadillas, margaritas, and a healthy distance from my other half?”

She shook her head. “I’d love to, but I’m gonna pass tonight. I need to get up early tomorrow. I’ve got a contractor coming to look at my roof. Apparently, the inspector wasn’t as thorough as he should have been, and I have quite a leak. Just what I need before I start the new job.”

His brow furrowed. “Do you need someone to come sit at the house while he works to fix it?”

“Cosmos already offered. Something about schedules to plan for upcoming jobs and other paperwork. Said it’s a good excuse to get that kind of stuff done.”

“Okay. Francesca or I could help if he can’t. Just let us know.”

“Will do.”

“I’ll walk you back through the labyrinth so you don’t get lost.”

When they got to the exit, she hugged him tightly around the neck. “Tell Cosmos and Triumph goodbye for me. I’ll have to catch up with everyone soon, without all this craziness around us. And I loved meeting Francesca, by the way. She seems perfect for you.”

“See you soon, E. Don’t be a stranger, and use that VIP card. You and a guest have an open invitation here, even if we’re sold out. I’ve already told the box office staff.”

“Thanks. And congratulations. The you-know-what, your engagement, and all the clubs. You deserve the success.”

With a wave, she went out the door.