“Dead end on the flowers. He’d arranged them himself, bought the vase at Pottery Barn and fuck knows how many Pottery Barns are around the St. Louis area, not to mention he coulda gone to any mall between here and there. No prints on the vase, no stickers or residue left. He coulda got the flowers from anywhere, seein’ as they’re in season. Spring’s here.”
Colt used to buy her tulips in spring too, just because you could find them easy, they were all around and she liked them. To this day spring meant tulips to Colt and sometimes when he wasn’t paying attention and didn’t have control of the path of his thoughts, he’d see them, at a grocery store, in Janet’s Flower Shop window, and think, I’ll pick those up for Feb, before he could stop himself.
“Is Feb in danger?” Jack asked and Colt looked at him.
Jack was trying to keep those cards close to his chest but the hold he had on them was far from steady.
“Can’t say,” Colt replied, “but the Feds, especially the profilers, they’ll know more.”
Jack nodded. He didn’t like it, but he nodded.
Colt moved on to different business. “Sully and I went down Feb’s list. Five names. We had the chat.”
“They gonna keep quiet?” Morrie asked.
Colt thought about these visits. They were short and they were all the same, every one of them. The news was met with amusement, the upsets history, so slight they were barely remembered. Then Sully and Colt gave them more information and the amusement died and the fear set in. He wasn’t surprised at the end response. Two of them said the same exact words, “Poor Feb.”
Not, “Oh my God,” and not, “Poor Angie.”
Angie was known, she managed to hold down her job but by most of the townsfolk she wasn’t respected, she was tolerated. Some may have felt sorry for her but most simply didn’t think about her and, when they did, they didn’t think much.
Feb, that was a different story.
“They’ll keep it quiet, for how long, don’t know,” Colt answered then he caught his friend’s eyes. “You need to move back in with Delilah.”
Morrie grinned. “Shit, tell me somethin’ I don’t know.”
Colt shook his head, Morrie wasn’t getting it.
“Far’s I can tell February loves few people in this world. Jack, Jackie, Jessie, Meems, their families, your kids and you.”
Morrie’s grin faded.
Colt continued. “Angie and Feb had a stupid, teenage girl fight years ago and Angie bought it. You think Dee might not be on that list, this guy thinks he’s takin’ care of Feb’s business, this guy thinks Dee hurt you and, through that, hurt Feb?”
Colt watched Morrie’s entire frame grow tight.
“Talk to her, move back in with her, explain it,” Colt pushed. “You need me to come with you, I’m there. She’ll let you move in, least until this is over.”
“You got time tonight?” Morrie asked.
“All the time you need,” Colt answered.
“Let’s go,” Morrie said.
“Hang on two shakes,” Jack said, his eyes on Colt. “This business is pressin’, so I’ll let you two go. That don’t mean we don’t got shit to talk about.”
“Jack –” Colt started.
“I saw what I saw in that bathroom, Colt. We all did,” Jack stated.
He could guess what Jack thought he saw. What Colt saw and felt leaking into his shirt was Feb crying her eyes out at the death of some jackass that beat her to shit and tore the last bits of February Owens away. Not that there was much left after whatever caused her to turn, but they were there. They’d come out once in awhile. After Pete was through with her, they vanished. Only the jaw tilt was left and rarely her laughter wouldn’t be guarded and you could almost hear the old Feb in it. But that was rarely and only happened when she was with Morrie’s kids. Not with Morrie, her parents, even Jessie and Meems. Not that he’d seen and, he hated to admit it, but for two years and any time she was home the earlier fifteen, he’d been watching.
“Due respect, Jack, you think you saw what you wanted to see,” Colt told him.
“Due respect, Colt, I saw what everyone saw. You experienced what you had to experience to hold yourself back,” Jack returned.
That pissed him off.
“Not me holdin’ back.”
“You been holdin’ back for twenty years.”
“We aren’t havin’ this conversation,” Colt declared.
“We are, just not now. You and Morrie got a daughter-in-law of mine to protect. See to that, we’ll talk about this later.”
Colt bit back his response, Jack meant too much to him to say what he wanted to say. They still weren’t going to have this conversation, now, tomorrow, next week or ever.
Colt nodded anyway.
Jack nodded back.
“Let’s go,” Morrie was impatient.
Colt took another pull from his beer and slid off the barstool, repeating. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Three
Puck
“I’m Agent Warren, FBI.”
He was good-looking, Agent Warren, and he knew it.
He extended his hand to me and I took it. He probably had dozens of handshakes he’d practiced over the years. This one was firm but reassuring.
“This is Agent Rodman,” Agent Warren motioned to the man at his side, yin to Agent Warren’s yang.
Warren was mocha-skinned black, bald, his thick, long eyelashes declaring that he shaved his head rather than lost his hair, his tall frame was lean but not slight. Rodman was white, showing signs that he needed to lay off the donuts, was obviously balding and didn’t hide it and had the widest, most brilliantly gold wedding band I’d ever seen in my life.
Agent Rodman’s handshake was just as firm and just as reassuring.
They were not my enemy. They were here to help.
This was good to know.
I saw movement out the corner of my eye and Colt and Sully were walking up. It cost me but I caught the jaw tilt before it even began.
“Colt,” I said when he made it to me and Sully’s body jerked at my word.
Colt didn’t move, his expression revealed nothing. Even so, his eyes were locked on me in a weirdly intense way that made me fight back a squirm.
“Feb,” Colt said back.
“Sully,” I said to Sully, noting he looked a bit better and his voice, when it said my name, wasn’t near as nasally.
“Feb.”
Neither of them called me February which I was surprised about. I thought in front of the FBI they’d want to appear official.
Then I realized I was not February to them in front of the agents. I was Feb, they knew me. I was one of their own, a citizen of their town but more than just some unknown someone they’d sworn to protect.
That was good to know too.
“You should know, Ms. Owens, that Lieutenant Colton has bowed out of the investigation,” Agent Warren, clearly Speaker for the FBI, put in smoothly.
This surprised me too but I didn’t hide that surprise because underneath it was an irrational fear that was impossible to control.
Therefore I also didn’t catch my response.
“Why?” My tone held clear accusation. I meant it to and it was directed at the Speaker for the FBI.
I watched Warren’s dark brows draw together over his girlie eye-lashed eyes. “Lieutenant Colton explained you two have history.”
I doubted Colt had explained that history thoroughly but I also didn’t care.
“He’s a good cop.”
“That’s not in question,” Warren stated.
“In fact, him stepping aside on his own proves your statement true,” Rodman spoke for the first time.
I wasn’t comprehending nor did I want to.