Chapter 5
M ichelle had the worst poker face of anyone Nick knew. Being in close proximity to him was getting to her. Him too, only he hid his attraction better.
As he did a walk of the mall, a chant filled his head—She’s in the past, she’s in the past. He had Ava to think about, and strolling down memory lane with Michelle Swenson was not in his plan. Not now or ever.
She had her chance. He cringed at the memory of how he begged her to come with him. Even when he was home on break after basic, he tried. She had the heart of a cop, even back then, and it belonged to Ashwood… not him.
They both had moved on. No sense revisiting the past. Even if the past still had the sexiest eyes he’d ever seen. Not to mention perfect curvy hips. He flexed his fingers just thinking about all the times he slid his hands over those sweet, sleek curves and around to scoop a cheek. Her ass still called to him. He caught himself more than once reaching for her. He played it off as escorting her. The one time, he didn’t realize he was touching her until she glared at him. She was a damn magnet, and his body got as hard as steel just thinking about it.
He pulled his coat tighter around himself as he moved through the corridor. No. The last thing Nick needed was Michelle Swenson occupying his thoughts. He had a killer to find so he could get that fucking sleigh back.
He turned the corner and entered the coffee shop in the middle of the mall. If there was anyone who knew the employees of this mall better than him, it would be Shanti. Everyone who lives on caffeine stops in the Caffeinated Bean for a cup of joe or a pop.
“Hey, Nick! I didn’t see you this morning. The usual?”
Shanti’s wide smile appeared over the machines and steam as she prepared a customer’s latte.
“Sounds good.” He watched while she finished with the college-age girl’s coffee and waited for her to start his. “Shanti, do you know a woman working in the mall named Margarita?”
“Hmm, not sure. It sounds familiar. What does she look like?”
“Not sure. But she sings.”
She set his black coffee on the counter. As she rang up his order, she scrunched her brows. “Oh, are you talking about Rita? She works at the plus size shop next to The Gap?”
“Is she dating Cliff, the seasonal maintenance guy?” Nick tapped his credit card on the machine.
“The big guy with a beard? Yeah, I think so.”
“Thanks, Shanti. You’re the best.” Nick raised his cup to her in a salute, then left.
Now to see if this Rita was working. Nick downed his coffee as he crossed the mall to the plus-size women’s clothing shop. He walked in and a pretty woman in her early thirties was stocking shelves. Her long black braids hung down to hips that swayed to the song playing through the speakers. As he got closer, he could hear her singing that Mariah Carey Christmas song. Wow, this had to be her. The lady had some pipes on her.
He cleared his throat .
She jumped. “Oh, you scared me.”
“Sorry.”
“Can I help you?” The blush deepened her cheek color.
“Are you Margarita?”
Her perfectly shaped brows knit together. “Who wants to know?”
“Me. I’m Nick Jolley, head of mall security. Do you know Cliff Garmen?”
“What did he do? He promised he was done with that life.” She dropped a hand to her hip, one long red and green nail tapped.
“Nothing that I know of. I just have a couple questions. Do you know where I can find him?”
“I haven’t seen him in a week. I figured he blew me off for that floozy at Claire’s.”
“If you hear from him, please let me know.” He handed her his card and left. Time to do a little digging into Cliff and Jonny’s employment files.
***
The maintenance area sat in the back center of the mall. A cavernous room with everything from landscaping gear to signage. Off to the right was a small office with a plaque on the door. The word manager was in bold capital letters.
Michelle knocked… Nothing. She pressed an ear to the door. Silence. Slipping a gloved hand around the knob, she turned it. The door opened. She glanced over her shoulder. No workers.
“Hello?” She stuck her head in. A messy desk, covered with papers, a disposable coffee cup, and a half-eaten donut sat in the middle of the room. Moving inside, she left the door open. She wasn’t breaking and entering. It was unlocked. She touched the coffee cup—cold.
She checked the time: 4:35p.m. Quitting time? But wouldn’t they clean up? Or at least lock up?
The door creaked. Michelle glanced over her shoulder. A tall, skinny man in overalls with the name Junior on his chest leaned against the doorframe. There was something familiar about him.
“Excuse you. This is my office.”
She faced him. “I’m Officer Swenson. Are you the manager? I have a couple questions about Jonny Staniski and Cliff Garmen.”
“I know who you are. Why are you asking about Jonny and Cliff?” He pushed off the frame and sauntered to the other side of the desk. He didn’t sit but crossed his arms over his chest.
Black ink peeked out from his sleeve… A coin. Michelle’s focus shifted from his wrist to his face. His eyes, dark and cold. Well, shit. “Horace Silver… Junior. I didn’t know you were out of prison.”
His jaw muscle jumped. “Two years next month.”
“And you’re a manager already? Wow! Good for you.” She’d picked up Junior on a drug charge back about ten years ago. It wasn’t his first, and when he swung at her and Larson, she added two counts of assaulting an officer to the charges.
“When was the last time you saw Jonny and Cliff?” She rested her hands on her duty belt and waited.
Junior rolled his eyes, scratched his scruffy chin, then sighed. “I don’t know. Last week.”
“Junior, as a manager, I would think you’d know the last day they worked?”
He huffed and moved some papers around on his desk. “Yeah, yeah. Here.” He pointed to the schedule in his hand. “They both punched in last Thursday. That was the last day I saw them. Neither one showed up for work the next day.”
“You’re telling me, they didn’t show up for work for multiple days without contacting you?” At his nod, she continued. “Did you call their emergency contacts? Or report them as missing? It’s been more than seventy-two hours.”
“Why? They’re seasonal workers. Those flake off and quit all the time. I’m not going to babysit them.”
She asked him a few more questions about the two men, but it didn’t take long to realize that Junior wouldn’t be forthcoming with any information. “Could I get a copy of their employment files?”
“You got a warrant?” Now he sat.
“I will be back with one.”
“Fine, talk to HR. Not my department.” He shoved the rest of the donut into his mouth. Obviously, a sign he was done talking.
“Thanks for your time. Let me know if you hear from Cliff.” She dropped a card on his desk.
He snorted. “Sure. Just Garmen, not Staniski?”
She stared into his ruddy face. “Staniski’s dead.”
“What?” He choked a little on the donut.
“His body was found Monday morning.” She waited to see if he would say anything else. Shock crossed his face, but no more words left his mouth.
“You have my number if you hear from Garmen.” She’d circle back to him another day.
Heading for the security office, she spotted Nick up ahead. His long limbs moved loosely, like an athlete.
As he walked toward her, determination on his face, an image of him in fatigues with a pack on his back and a rifle in his hand lodged in her mind .
“Daddy.” A brown-haired girl in pigtails darted across the mall.
Nick turned and caught her in his arms. “Hey, Peanut. Where’s Grandpa? You know you aren’t supposed to be running around the mall alone.”
Peanut? Grandpa? Michelle froze mid-step. She stared at the girl in Nick’s arms. Same eyes, same hair.
Holy shit! Nick has a child.
Michelle’s chest imploded. Why, she couldn’t say. She knew he was married. It stands to reason he’d have children.
She swallowed.
He carried the girl with ease. “Honey, this is Officer Swenson. An old friend of mine. Michelle, this is my daughter.”
***
Fucking chickenshit. Michelle dropped her head to the steering wheel and sucked in as much air as possible. Yup. She’d ran from a little girl. Nick said, this is my daughter, and every last one of her brain cells clouded over like the frost on her windshield.
After the word “Hi” fell from her lips, all she remembered was mumbling something about work and case files before she turned and hightailed it to her patrol vehicle. She could stare down a three-hundred-pound criminal with a bad attitude, but she couldn’t compose polite conversation with her ex’s child.
She needed therapy. Or better yet, sister time.
As if they had ESP, her phone dinged. Julie’s face popped onto the screen.
She exhaled and clicked the button. “Hey. ”
“I know you’re helping Jim on that Santa case, but are you still going to Ethan’s school tomorrow to do that safety talk?” The clanking of dishes echoed through the phone. Julie was always multitasking.
“Shit. Uh. Yeah. What time was it again?” Michelle pulled up her calendar app and checked the time.
“Ten.” Her sister paused for a moment. “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Ah ha. And I don’t have to be looking at you for my BS meter to go off, so spill.”
“I just met Nick’s daughter.”
“Shit.” The word was a muffled whisper. “Are you on your way home?”
“I was going to stop by the station first. I have a few things to do.” Not that she felt like it. She just wanted her comfy clothes and a big glass of wine… or four.
“I’ll give you forty minutes. I’ll bring the booze.” She hung up. No waiting for Michelle’s reply. Not that it mattered. Michelle had never won an argument with Julie in her life. If her sister said she’d be there in forty, she’d be there in thirty-five.
Michelle shifted into drive and pulled out into traffic. She had to hustle if she wanted to grab any files on Garmen and Staniski and be home before her sister.
Pulling into the station, her phone rang. This time, it was Jim. She answered, “Did you run a background on Staniski?”
“Yeah, I’ll send you a copy. I got your message on Garmen and I ran his, too.”
“Great, you just saved me time. Did you receive Staniski’s phone records?”
“Not yet. They should be coming any time.” She grabbed her bag and headed into the building .
“Okay.” He hesitated. Ten full seconds of dead air filled the phone.
“What’s up?”
“Doc just called to say I’d be on my own for dinner. Something about my sister needing some girl time.”
Julie was circling the troops. Michelle wondered if she had any snacks in her cupboard.
“What’s going on? Do I need to kick Jolley’s ass?”
“You’re sweet. But no. Did you know he has a daughter?”
“Fuck no. Mickey, if working this case will pull up too much past crap, what would Doc call it… emotional trauma? Then I can work the case without you.”
Her insides melted like a marshmallow in hot cocoa. “No, I’m good. It just… surprised me. That’s all.” Shock was more like it. She couldn’t have been more surprised if she busted up a prostitution ring and found her own mother there. “I really appreciate your offer to fight for my honor, but I don’t think you could take him.”
“Bullshit. Besides, I know you can handle yourself, but if you ever need an assist, I’m here.”
“Thanks. Now I have to get home before the herd gets there.” She disconnected and glanced at the time. She had enough time to pick up some chips on the way home. Maybe some chocolate as well.