7. Antonio
Chapter 7
Antonio
“ I t’s too damn early for this.” Jackson Slater worked with me and Tyson, serving as the official investigator for our small department. He raked a hand through dark brown hair—which looked like it had been combed with a woman’s fingers—and sighed. “How in the hell did I get roped into this?”
This being yet another craft festival that brought artists, artisans, and other craft-makers from all the surrounding counties to Tulip. Usually I did police duty for these things, but this time, I was there as man candy. According to Janey anyway.
I smiled. It was the same question all the guys who’d agreed to pose for the Hometown Heroes calendar had asked themselves at least once since Janey roped us into it. “Probably ‘cause you’d rather endure this than a relentless Janey.” The woman was like a hound who’d picked up a scent, sinking her teeth into you until you gave up. “I’ll buy you a coffee.”
He stopped between two booths—the buttered sweet corn sold by Trixie Bell and the sweet corn jellies sold by her twin sister Mimi. “What’s the catch?”
“Why does there have to be a catch?”
Jackson flashed a smug grin. “If you have to ask that question, then it’s time to get you investigating real crimes again.”
“All crime is real crime,” I reminded him. It was truth but it was also a bullshit line I used to get out of talking about why I didn’t take Jackson’s job, despite having more experience. “Besides, I’m happy to help make you look good.”
Jackson stroked the stubble on his jaw he hadn’t bothered with and grinned. “Like I need your help for that. Tell me what this coffee is gonna cost me.”
That was the problem when your closest friends were also in law enforcement—you couldn’t bullshit them. “You’re assigned to Elka’s Essence booth today.” It wasn’t a question. I’d gone over the damn map at least a dozen times to make sure I wouldn’t have to ask twice.
“Anything but that.” Jackson’s expression went from warm to Arctic in an instant, which meant he’d heard about my behavior even though he’d been away at a forensics conference last week. “Christ, man, you aimed your piece at her?”
How many times was I doomed to explain myself? “It was an honest mistake.”
“There you go, lying again. It’s becoming a habit.” Usually I appreciated Jackson’s laid-back attitude; it made him a good drinking companion and friend. Today, it only made me want to slug him. “You want to keep an eye on her?”
“No. Yeah. Hell, I don’t know. She told Penny she wouldn’t do it if I came anywhere near her.” That hurt like hell to hear, but I couldn’t blame her. And then a few days ago, she’d made it clear she would rather struggle carrying boxes half her size than accept my help. It was a kick in the balls.
“Can’t say I blame her, but I can say that I’m not switching with you. You don’t deserve it, man, but I also don’t want Penny and Nina breathing down my neck. Sorry.”
We stopped for coffee and I knew Jackson was right. I didn’t deserve his help. But I wasn’t ready to give up or accept defeat. Elka was hiding something and I knew it. I wouldn’t stop until I found out what, but I could be a little nicer. “Maybe so, but I can’t be the only one suspicious about her.”
“Really? I don’t seem to remember you being all that suspicious of Penny when she came to town. Or Nina with the tats and piercings.” At my confused look, Jackson barked out a laugh. “Maybe there’s something about this woman that gets to you.”
“There isn’t.”
Jackson laughed harder, drawing stares as we walked through one of the aisles, sipping coffee. It was barely nine o’clock in the morning and half the town had already showed up to buy, sell, or support the artists. It was one of the great things about living in a small town—the support. Knowing you’d be all right because the same people who were all up in your business would show up and support you with just as much energy. “You like her. Now I can’t wait to meet her.”
Less than two minutes later, we both stood in front of the small booth with the Elka’s Essence banner, the words written in soft purple script. Elka sat on one of those stress balls, fabric falling all around her legs, and wore big red sunglasses with heart-shaped lenses. Her pink lips rested in a plump pout that spread when she saw Jackson.
“That’s her.”
“Elka?” Jackson asked. She nodded and I watched Jackson’s smile glow and turned predatory. “Jackson Slater, at your service.” His hand extended her way and she took it, slightly guarded but still friendly.
“For the next few hours anyway. It’s nice to meet you, Jackson.” Not that I expected her to, but it stung when she didn’t even acknowledge me. “What kind of hero are you?”
He laughed, shoving his hands into his jeans as he moved forward, closer to Elka. “Detective.”
“Aren’t you a bit young to be a detective?”
The jerk had the nerve to blush, a fact that was as impressive as it was disgusting. I wondered how long it took him to learn that particular trick. “I’m technically only an investigator because Vargas here didn’t want the job. We split the duties. I got the title, but he’s got a higher rank.”
“Right.” Still she didn’t acknowledge me and it was starting to piss me off.
“Good morning, Elka.”
“Morning, officer.” She turned back to Jackson. “I’m not sure what you’re supposed to do but if someone else needs your help, don’t feel like you have to stick around.”
“I have the Bell twins and I’m sure they could use some help,” I told Jackson, staring at him until he gave up.
“Oh, fine. You don’t have a firearm today, do you?” I glared at my so-called friend but he just laughed, like it was all some big damn joke. “Okay, okay. I’m going. It was nice to meet you, Elka.”
“You too.” As soon as his back was turned, her smile vanished, and her attention turned to the small black device in her hands. I watched her for a few minutes and she never once looked up or showed any awareness that I was still there.
“You should be more aware of your surroundings.” The fact that she didn’t even flinch at my voice told more than she probably wanted.
“Is there something you need, officer?”
“Antonio. My name is Antonio.” Did she get off on being so difficult? This was exactly why I stopped getting involved with women for more than a few hours: they could never make any-damn-thing simple.
She sighed and looked up, but her eyes were shielded by those ridiculous sunglasses. “First names are for friends.”
This was as good an opening as it would probably get. “Listen, Elka. I’m sorry about the way I acted at the Black Thumb. Maybe I overreacted, and I’m sorry. Truly.” I wished I could see what the hell was going on in those bottomless blue eyes, but she still wore the sunglasses, leaving me flying blind.
“Okay.”
What in the hell did that mean? “Okay as in you forgive me and we can have a clean slate?”
Her lips twitched, but when she shoved the little black tablet into her ugly patchwork bag and folded her arms, I knew it wasn’t amusement. “It means okay, I’ve heard what you have to say.”
That wasn’t good enough so I took the seat she’d clearly meant for Jackson and sat. Watching her talk to people who walked up to ask about her candles and incense. She smiled at every single person and answered their questions patiently. It wasn’t a version of her I’d seen yet. It was compelling.
“What are these for?” Betty Kemp stopped, eyeing Elka and then me before turning her gaze back to the small gift box.
“These are blessing kits—perfect for housewarming gifts. But if you simply want to remove negative energy from a space and replace it with positive energy, this is the kit to help.”
“Oh, they smell divine!” Betty oohed and aahed over the kit, squealing like a teenage girl when she inhaled the scents.
Elka laughed. “There are five scents available but I’m working on expanding my options.” She had an easy way about her that put everyone at ease, whether they left with something or not.
About an hour passed in unbearable silence before I couldn’t take it anymore. “Elka, tell me about yourself.”
“My name is Elka.”
I smiled at her sarcasm. I deserved it and it was nice to know she did have a backbone in that tiny frame of hers. “Where are you from, Elka?”
“The west coast,” she answered easily. Even though she wouldn’t look at me, I knew it was the truth.
“Do you have any family?”
“I do.”
“Brothers and sisters?”
Her lips tightened instantly. “Not anymore.”
There was a story there and I wanted to hear it, but she was too angry to give even an inch right now. Luckily, no woman could resist an offer of sugar. I stood and stretched, wondering if she’d looked me over the way she had before I yelled at her about her trailer. “I’m going to get one of those deep-fried homemade candy bars. You want anything?”
“No thanks,” she said so quickly, I knew that would’ve been the answer no matter what.
What was the point in trying to be nice to someone who didn’t know the meaning of forgiveness? “Whatever.” I didn’t even know why the hell it mattered at this point. I hadn’t done a damn thing to warrant her forgiveness and since she refused to even accept my apology, it was hopeless.
The problem was, I had no choice but to make things right because Tyson was rightfully pissed off. I acted unprofessionally and it was a reflection on him as well as the department, and according to the mayor, the whole damn town. Which meant I needed to do something that would make it impossible for her not to forgive me.