Tami Hoag - Down the Darkest Road

I never told anyone about Greg Hewitt. I never met him at my home. I never let him meet Leah. I never spoke of him to friends. While he was good-looking and roughly charming, there was something about him that was just slightly off-putting for me. There was something about him that was a little sleazy, a little edgy. Or maybe what I pinned on him was really just a reaction to my own distaste for the depths to which I was willing to go.

I asked him to get me Ballencoa’s new address in Oak Knoll. That would be the last thing I would want from him. He didn’t like the direction my mind was going. I suspected he didn’t like my intention to sever what business relationship we had. He wanted to hang on. It was no secret that Lance and I had money. It was also no secret to me that Greg Hewitt wanted money. I was willing to give it to him. But he had wanted more than money.

In his mind he had some notion that there might be something between us—if not romantically, certainly sexually. He was the kind of man who equated sexual conquest with control. As if his prowess would be such that I would fall under his spell, and we would become like the two-dimensional characters of a 1950s pulp fiction detective novel.

I believed no such thing. I wanted no such thing. Nor did I want him. I hadn’t been with any man other than my husband since my early college days. I hadn’t wanted to be. What I wanted was Roland Ballencoa’s address, and no one else was going to get it for me.

Desperate people do desperate things.

I spent a night with a man I didn’t like, much less desire, and my body had betrayed me utterly, responding against my will, greedy for a kind of release I hadn’t known I needed. I hated him for it. I hated myself more.

Greg Hewitt gave me Roland Ballencoa’s address in Oak Knoll. I fired him the next day.

35

“Uncle Tony! Uncle Tony!”

Mendez grinned as the Leone children came running for him. He bent down and caught Haley first, sweeping her up out of harm’s way as little Antony barreled into him like a battering ram.

“Hey, guys!”

“I’m not a guy!” Haley protested. “I’m a girl!”

“You’re not a girl,” Mendez said. “You’re a princess!”

Haley beamed.

Antony jumped up in the air and did his best ninja kick. “I’m all boy!”

Mendez ruffled his godson’s dark curls. “You sure are, sport.”

“Uncle Tony, we went to the zoo in Santa Barbara!” Haley said excitedly. “I got a giraffe and Antony got a gorilla. Not real ones, stuffed ones.”

Antony immediately began to hop around the entry hall making ape sounds.

“That’s cool!” Mendez said. “What else did you see?”

“We saw zebras and leopards, and I got to help Daddy feed a giraffe and it licked me! It was so gross!”

Mendez laughed. Haley Leone was as adorable and bubbly as a child could be—a far cry from how she had been the first time he’d seen her. At four years old she had been the only witness to her mother’s brutal stabbing death and mutilation. The perpetrator had choked Haley unconscious and left her for dead as well. When Mendez had first seen her in the hospital, she had just come out of a coma, screaming in terror. Only Anne had been able to quiet and calm her.

Anne Leone came into the hall now, smiling and wiping her hands on a bright yellow kitchen towel.

“You’re just in time,” she said, rising up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “They’re fresh from their naps.”

“I don’t nap, Mommy,” Haley corrected her. “Naps are for babies like Antony.”

“I’m not a baby, I’m a lion!” Antony announced. He made a fierce roar and clawed the air with his imaginary paws.

“You’re staying for dinner,” Anne said. “Vince is grilling.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mendez said, setting Haley down. “Where is the boss anyway?”

“Out by the pool. Come on. I’ll get you a drink.”

She preceded him down the hall, herding her youngest ahead of her, calling a warning to him as Antony began to give chase to a striped tabby cat that darted ahead of them with its tail straight up in the air.

He had first met Anne during the investigation of the See-No-Evil murders, when she had been a schoolteacher at Oak Knoll Elementary. Pretty, quietly strong, and fiercely protective of her students, he’d had a mind to ask her out when the case was over. But Vince had swept into town and swept Anne off her feet—and he never let Mendez live it down.

At a glance they seemed an unlikely couple. Now fifty-two, Vince was twenty years Anne’s senior, but they were absolutely soul mates, and had the strongest marriage of any couple Mendez knew. Watching them with their growing family, he had to admit he envied them.

“I understand we have a new acquaintance in common,” Anne said as they went into the big bright kitchen. “Lauren Lawton.”

“She called you?” he said, surprised. “I gave her your card, but I didn’t think she’d use it.”

“She didn’t. I met her through Wendy. Wendy has become friends with Lauren’s daughter. They ride horses together.”

“What do you think of her?”

“Lauren? I think life hasn’t been very kind to her,” she said diplomatically.

“No. Is she going to see you professionally?”

“I wouldn’t look for that to happen any time soon. She’s too busy trying to hang on to the ledge to reach out for help,” Anne said. “We’ve talked. She knows I’m available when she’s ready. That’s the best I can do for now.”

“I don’t see how she can heal while those wounds are still open,” Mendez said. “Until the case is resolved one way or another, she’s left hanging.”

Anne nodded, her expression sad. “I remember watching the news coverage when her daughter was abducted. That’s the worst thing I can possibly imagine as a parent. And then she lost her husband too. It’s heartbreaking. It’s like watching somebody drowning and not being able to do anything for them.”

She shook her head as she opened the refrigerator. “Wine or beer?”

“I shouldn’t,” he started.

She gave him an arch look, a smile tugging at her mouth. “I know you’re not on duty.”

Mendez scowled a little. “I’ll have a Dos Equis then, thanks.”

“Hey, hothead. What are you doing in my kitchen with my wife?”

Vince Leone had come up the ranks of the Chicago PD and, while he had long ago left the Windy City, its accent had never left him.

He came into the room and immediately laid claim to Anne, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead, winning himself a sweet smile. An athletic physical presence at six-three, he had a lion’s mane of wavy salt-and-pepper hair and a mustache meant to distract the eye from the small round scar on his cheek. The scar marked the entrance of a mugger’s .22-caliber bullet that had never left his head. Otherwise fit and happy, he was stronger and more vibrant now than he had been when he had come to Oak Knoll five years prior. Family life agreed with him.

“You talked to Cal?” Mendez said with a lopsided smile.

“I saw him at the gym this morning. He told me this Ballencoa clown threatened to sue,” he said. “You’d better mind your p’s and q’s, junior.”

“Meanwhile, Ballencoa can terrorize Lauren Lawton, and that’s okay. I can’t even put a tail on him for fear of him screaming harassment,” Mendez complained. “I found out today the city of Santa Barbara gave him fifty K to shut up and go away. He went up to San Luis Obispo and threatened to sue them too. Now we get him.”

“Imagine what a nightmare that is for Lauren,” Anne said, handing him his beer.