Lady Luck Read online

  Silence then Peña exposed he’d honed in on one thing in all that Ty said, “You and Lexie tryin’?”

  Fuck.

  Ty didn’t want to answer but he did. “Yeah.”

  Then a surprised, “Already?”

  “Angel, I lost five years. You think I’m big on pissin’ away anymore?”

  “Got a point,” Peña muttered.

  “Anyway, Lex wants four kids. She’s thirty-four, she wants that, we gotta get started.”

  He listened to Peña roar of laughter before, “Madre de Dios, esé, you just cured me. Tu esposa es muy linda but four kids? That’s about three headaches and definitely three college tuitions I’m glad I’m gonna miss.”

  Shit. That wasn’t something he’d thought about.

  He was rethinking his vow never to sit a game of poker again, and definitely the coffee table shopping expedition when Peña finished it.

  “All right, Ty, don’t expect an invitation to the baby shower but you got my number now, you need me, she needs me, I’m a phone call away. I’ll keep an eye on Martinez and give you a head’s up, I hear anything.”

  “Thanks, Angel and a little payback, not for you but just in case Frank calls you, we haven’t been sittin’ on our hands. He needs to lean on someone to flip, he leans on Crabtree.”

  “Crabtree?”

  “As in Officer Rowdy Crabtree.”

  “What you got for him to use on Officer Crabtree?”

  “What I got is that Officer Crabtree visits Denver every other weekend and he does this because there’s a certain service he can get in Denver he can’t get out here in the mountains. And this service is provided by men who look like boys and it’s provided for a fee.”

  A low whistle then, “How solid is this?”

  “Very.”

  “Ole Frank gave me his number,” Peña told him.

  “’Spect you’ll find time to call.”

  “He’s not on your speed dial?”

  “Frank’s givin’ me and Tate a wide berth these days.”

  “Probably smart,” Peña muttered.

  It probably was and now Ty knew why. Before, he thought Frank had gone to the dark side which meant his stepping in for Lexie didn’t make sense. Now, it made sense.

  “One thing,” Ty added. “Frank’s gonna use this, he needs to do it soon. If he doesn’t, Crabtree is gonna have a talk with someone else. He sits a cruiser, he’s not gonna be pullin’ my wife over for bullshit and he was involved in my shit so I got a desire to watch him squirm. This info is new, we’ve not been sittin’ on it long and we won’t sit on it much longer. He flips for Frank or he flips for me but he’s gonna flip.”

  “Right,” Peña whispered.

  “Right,” Ty confirmed.

  “You got more?” Peña asked.

  “We do but what we got is shit I’m gonna keep. Crabtree isn’t the only one needs to squirm.”

  Silence then, “Right. Okay then, Ty, again, stay sharp.”

  “Same to you.”

  “Keep her happy.”

  Jesus.

  “That’s another mission, Angel.”

  This got a chuckle then, “I’ll bet. Later, amigo.”

  “Later.”

  He flipped his phone shut.

  Then he flipped it open and called Tate.

  Then he flipped it shut again and got back to work.

  * * * * *

  At twelve thirty, Ty was standing with Wood just outside a bay when the Viper turned into the garage and growled down the forecourt.

  Ty and Wood stopped talking in order to watch and so did every single man on Wood’s payroll and Ty didn’t even have to turn to confirm. Lexie had visited him in the forecourt of the garage twice and once was incentive enough for any man to stop what he was doing and pay attention.

  But watching her park the Viper, throw out a long, tanned leg and fold out of his car wearing a pair of black short-shorts, the tight, berry-colored, halter-topped tee she was wearing that day by the pool in Vegas, high-heeled, black sandals on her feet, a pair of classy, black-framed shades covering her eyes and her long, soft, shining hair falling over her shoulders could cause even Rowdy Crabtree, with his closeted tendencies, to have one motherfucker of a wet dream.

  Ty grinned.

  Wood muttered, “Shit.”

  Ty’s grin got bigger.

  Lexie shouted excitedly across the forecourt, “You left me the Snake!” and then she did it.

  Racing across the forecourt, he braced and she launched herself in his arms. This time, she wrapped her long legs around his hips and when he caught her, he did it with hands to her ass.

  She gave him a hard kiss then pulled away and gave him a huge smile, her light beaming bright and blinding.

  Good.

  She’d flipped on the switch.

  And she liked the Viper. A lot.

  “Babe, I’m at work,” he reminded her but didn’t even twitch in an effort to put her on her feet.

  To this, she turned her head to Wood and greeted, “Hey, Wood.”

  “Hey, Lexie. Welcome back.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. “Happy to be back.”

  Wood’s eyes did a sweep of them while his lips twitched and he noted, “That actually wasn’t lost on me.”

  She shot him a smile then asked, “Do you mind your mechanics engaging in public displays of affection?”

  Ty shook his head, not in denial, because he found it amusing his wife was a goof.

  He’d missed that too, as in missed it.

  Wood answered, “Just as long as you keep your clothes on.”

  “Can do,” she muttered then looked back at Ty. “Soooo,” she drew this out then went on, “the bad news is, Dominic hired someone.”

  She didn’t look too broken up about it but, still, he knew she liked that job so he murmured, “Sorry, mama.”

  Her smile flashed and she continued, “The good news is, he caught her with her fingers in the cash register only two days after she started and fired her ass so…” her arms that were curled around his shoulders disappeared as she threw them in the air and Ty had to lean back so his wife wouldn’t topple the other direction as she shouted, “I’m back in!”

  Ty turned his head to Wood and explained, “My wife’s a goof.”

  Wood chuckled.

  “I’m not a goof,” Lexie protested, winding her tanned arms around his shoulders again.

  “Baby, you’re a goof. Total goof,” Wood declared. “But you stick with that, you work it.”

  Wood was not wrong about that.

  “Okay,” she said quietly, turned to Ty, lifted her shades to her forehead and gave him big eyes that told him without words to stop telling people she was a goof.

  That was when Ty chuckled.

  Then he squeezed her ass, gave her a small heft to communicate his intentions, her legs loosened from his hips and he dropped her to her heels.

  She moved her shades back to her eyes and leaned her body into Ty as Ty said to Wood, “Lunch.”

  “Right,” Wood jerked up his chin. “Take your time. You been doin’ so much overtime, actually saves me money you take a long lunch.”

  “Thanks, man,” Ty muttered.

  “Later, Wood,” she gave her farewell.

  “Later, Lexie,” Wood returned.

  Ty moved, Lexie grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his.

  When she did, his tightened.

  They were halfway down the forecourt when she asked, “Overtime?”

  “Wood and Pop are always busy and gettin’ busier, especially in the summer,” Ty answered. “They got a good reputation for their work and got enough work that they can keep the cost of parts low and pass that on to customers so folks from Chantelle and even Gnaw Bone go outta their way to use us for regular maintenance and repairs. But Pop’s been workin’ on Harleys for goin’ on fifty years, he’s good at it, passed that shit down to all his boys so men with bikes from as far away as Aspen, Grand Junction, Glen
wood Springs even Denver bring ‘em to Pop. They were two mechanics down when they took me on and they held off hirin’ in order to cover me when I got out. Their desire to continue tradition of good work, they don’t hire just anyone and still haven’t found another guy. Seein’ as I had to take a few unexpected days off, so Wood wouldn’t eat that, I started workin’ late to make up the time. Then he needed me, I kept that shit up and started workin’ Thursdays. Gym stays open late, could go after the garage was closed and did ‘cause I had no reason to get home.”

  It was more than that. It was all the evidence of the them he fucked up all around that he told himself to get shot of and never could bring himself to do it that made him not want to go home. Now, he was glad he didn’t get rid of it. But just a day ago, walking down the stairs in the morning and up them at night was a form of torture.

  Not to mention, considering he was an experienced mechanic therefore his salary was far from shit and Pop and Wood paid time and a half overtime, he’d made a fuckload of cake.

  “Are you going to keep doing that, the overtime, I mean?” she asked and his hand gave hers a squeeze.

  “Depends,” he answered then joked, “I gotta save for four college tuitions, I probably should start now.”

  He felt her shades on him as they turned the corner to the sidewalk and he looked down at her.

  “Is money an issue?”

  She clearly didn’t take it as a joke.

  “Babe, we stick together, nothin’ is an issue.”

  “What?”

  He stopped, stopping her with a tug on her hand then he drew her close, letting her hand go and winding both arms around her. When her shades hit his, he spoke.

  “This is it, Team Walker, you and me. We want somethin’, we find a way to get it. We hit a rough patch, we find a way to get over it. We face a challenge, we find a way to beat it. It’s good, we savor it. What I’m sayin’ is, this team is a winner. We never forget to celebrate the victories and we get a lotta those because we never admit defeat.”

  She stared up at him, unmoving, silent and with the dark lenses on her shades, he couldn’t see her eyes.

  So his arms gave her a squeeze and he called, “Lexie?”

  “Team Walker,” she whispered.

  “Team Walker,” he repeated firmly.

  Her hands slid up his arms, his shoulders so both could curl around the sides of his neck where she squeezed as she got up on her toes and said softly, “I like that.”

  “That’s good because the position you play on this team lasts a lifetime.”

  She grinned then smiled then giggled.

  Then she put pressure on his neck, he bent and took her mouth.

  Then he let her go, took her hand and guided her down three blocks and across the street to the diner.

  They were seated in a booth at the back, a booth he requested because no one was sitting around it so no one could overhear. His back was to the wall; his woman was across from him.

  They’d ordered, got their drinks and Ty started sharing, including Detective Angel Peña’s involvement which got him a loud gasp then a sweet smile that was not for him but for Peña, who she might not think about a lot but she clearly liked. It was a smile Peña would have liked to have seen. It was a smile Ty was glad he never would.

  Their food was served and he was in the middle of telling her about Crabtree when his phone rang, he leaned forward, pulled it out, looked at the display and it said, “Tate Calling.”

  “Eat, mama, gotta take this. It’s Tate,” he muttered, she nodded and continued to devour her curly fries and cheeseburger as he flipped his phone open and put it to his ear. “Yo.”

  “Brother, you sittin’ down?”

  Fuck.

  “What?”

  “Misty Keaton is dead.”

  Ty froze. Then his blood turned to ice. Then he guessed their play.

  “Do not tell me they’re gonna try to pin that shit on me.”

  “Hard to do since she was done with Rowdy Crabtree’s service revolver.”

  Holy fuck.

  Two birds, one stone.

  His eyes went to his wife who did not miss his words, tone and vibe and was staring at him with one ketchup soaked fry halfway to her mouth, eyes big, face pale. Ty gave her a short head shake in hopes of calming her fears. She nodded once but he knew by the look in her eyes he hadn’t succeeded in calming her fears.

  As he did this, he asked Tate, “No shit?”

  “From your brief this mornin’, seems like momma is smothering the weak cubs,” Tate remarked.

  Ty sat back and looked to the side. “Means neither of them can flip.”

  “Exactly what it means,” Tate confirmed.

  “You think they know Julius’s connection got shit on both of ‘em?” Ty asked.

  “They do, Chace Keaton is up next.”

  “Crabtree sittin’ in a cell?” Ty asked.

  “Crabtree is in the wind.”

  Hope.

  “How’d Crabtree find wind?” Ty asked.

  “No clue. Keaton reported his wife missin’ day before yesterday. Yesterday mornin’ they found her body dumped at the side of the access road that leads up to Miracle Ranch. Yesterday afternoon, they caught one fuckuva break, happening on the kill sight deep in Harker’s Wood in a way that you’d think they knew just where to look. Lotsa blood, all Misty’s, found the murder weapon tossed ‘bout two hundred yards from the scene. Ballistics match came in this mornin’. Crabtree did not report to work yesterday or today. My guess, he woke up, found his revolver gone, knows the way they play and wasted no time packing his bag.”

  Ty gave five seconds headspace to Misty Keaton taking bullets and her body dumped at the side of an access road. His grand plan o’ vengeance included all involved living a long fucking time with the bitter taste of Ty’s retribution on their tongue. He hated the bitch and he wanted her to pay. But not that way. Not that he felt bad for her, the world was not a poorer place without that toxic pussy in it, just that that punishment wasn’t near enough.

  Then he let that bitch go and noted, “Hard for them to hand Crabtree his shoelaces, he’s in the wind.”

  “Yep,” Tate agreed.

  “You think we got a problem with Julius’s boy?”

  “I think it would be worth it to have a conversation with him but, no. Sources say CPD is runnin’ scared and not just your man in Dallas. I think these are desperate acts, not strategic maneuvering based on covert intel,” Tate replied.

  “Then it’s good news Julius is in town, he can have a word.”

  “Julius is in town?” Tate asked and Ty’s eyes went to Lexie.

  “Yeah,” Ty answered. “Seemed he was gettin’ impatient with me and Lex takin’ our time reuniting so he decided to get Lex’s ass home. To do that, he phoned Ella and to get Ella to phone Lex, he told her I’d been in a car crash, was dyin’ and if she didn’t haul her ass from Florida, she’d lose her chance to say good-bye to me on my deathbed.”

  Loaded silence then a low, “You are fuckin’ shittin’ me.”

  “No.”

  Cautious silence then, “She haul her ass from Florida?”

  “We’re at the diner havin’ lunch.”

  Total silence then, “Brother…” pause then, “fuck, it good?”

  He smiled at his wife. Then he told Tate quietly, “Yeah, brother, all good.”

  Ty watched as her face lost some of her concern and got soft.

  Yeah, all good.

  “Good,” Tate said quietly back.

  Unfortunately, Ty had to bring the conversation back around. “Seems we gotta step shit up before everyone who can prove I didn’t do it gets dead.”

  At that, Lexie’s eyes got big again. He gave her an “it’s all good” chin lift even though it wasn’t. This time, she trusted him and popped the fry in her mouth.

  “Seems we do. I’ll talk to Deke,” Tate replied.

  “I’ll talk to Julius.”

  “Right,” then,
“happy for you, Ty, Lexie’s back.”

  “Not as much as me.”

  A smile in his voice with, “I bet.” Then, “I’ll tell Laurie.”

  “Good. I’ll tell Lex you’re tellin’ Laurie.”

  A chuckle in Tate’s voice with, “Good.”

  “Junior high,” Ty muttered.

  “Yeah, but not the shit part of it,” Tate returned.

  He had that right.

  “We done?” Ty asked.

  “For now,” Tate answered.

  “Then later.”

  “Later.”

  He flipped his phone shut and caught Lexie’s eyes as she was taking a big bite of burger. It wasn’t hard to catch her eyes. She was staring at him.

  She put the burger down, chewed twice and with mouth full, prompted, “Well?”

  “Misty’s dead.”

  Her entire torso jerked forward and back as she did a slow blink and stopped with eyes wide.

  Then, mouth still full, she asked loudly, “What?”

  “The wicked bitch is dead, mama.”

  She stared, chewed, swallowed, grabbed her soda, sucked deep on her straw, slammed the cup down and instantly commenced throwing sass. “Well, shit! If she’s dead, how can I have a bitch smackdown with her?”

  Ty felt his body shake with laughter as he said, “Sorry, baby, gonna have to give up on that dream.”

  “Fuck,” she whispered, glaring down at her plate.

  Ty studied his wife, grinning.

  The woman was dead and Lexie was pissed that she didn’t get her chance to engage in a catfight before Misty bought it.

  And, there it was. Lexie hated Misty more than he did.

  Seeing that, he suddenly understood it and knew that emotion was for him, not that Misty had betrayed the sisterhood. Misty was his wife’s focus because, no matter what authority and power was around her, Misty was the one person in his nightmare who could end it. And she didn’t. And she didn’t just to get a ring on her finger and a shot at a big inheritance.

  And that was not what Alexa Walker was about.

  And Alexa Walker loved him and that love ran deep.