6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Aaron

"W ill you bring a turtle home?" Pearl asks, tying my tie like I've taught her. She kneels on the dresser as I face the mirror.

I laugh and bump my nose against hers. "It's not that kind of event to save turtles, sweetheart. We only raise money for them. Besides, we're kind of hanging on by a thread here. It's enough for me to keep you and your sister alive. I don't think I can handle an endangered turtle."

"I'd take care of it."

Fat chance of that.

"Who is the lady you're taking?" Pearl asks, thankfully changing the subject. She moves her hands so I can finish threading my tie. It's the only part of the process she has trouble with.

Here it is. The conversation. Cynthia died a year ago, and I'm a good-looking guy in his thirties. I'm not going to be alone or celibate for the rest of my life. I've dreaded this conversation, though. No father wants to tell his eight-year-old daughter who lost her mother that he's dating again.

Am I? I'm not sure if talking your ex-girlfriend into helping you spy on a human trafficker at a charity event counts as a date.

If I had my way, I'd take her on a proper date. I'd take her to a nice dinner and then for a walk on Lake Michigan. We're always in Chicago in my fantasy for some reason. We'd go on a carriage ride, even if they are overpriced tourist traps. My hand would trail under the blanket and –

"Daddy!" Pearl says, jolting me out of my fantasy date with Lucy.

"I ran into my high school girlfriend. I asked her if she'd go with me."

Pearl's eyes widen to the size of dollar coins. "You had a girlfriend before Mommy?" she whispers.

I put my hands under her armpits, kiss her forehead, and help her off the dresser so she doesn't have to jump. "A long time ago."

"Is she pretty?"

I need to be careful here. Do I tell her the truth that Lucy's gorgeous? I know why she's asking. Pearl wants to know if my new interest is prettier than her mother. How do I compare the blonde, Swedish wonder that was my late wife with the auburn-haired enigma that's Lucy? Cynthia was fit and muscular, even joining a female bodybuilding gym. Lucy is all curves and soft breasts. It's like comparing an apple and an orange.

"She's very pretty," I say, leaning down to her level. She pulls on my tie a little while looking at me with her brow scrunched. "I know why you're asking. Nobody will replace Mom in your heart, OK? My friend's name is Lucy, and she makes me happy. I want to spend time with her. Is that enough for now?"

Pearl bites her lip like she's thinking, and I can tell from her expression that I have a long way to go to explain this to Pearl and Ruby so they can understand. I'll deal with it then, though. This isn't something I can just mention and hope they accept. I also don't know if I have a shot in hell with Lucy. She's coming with me tonight as a favor. I sold it as her helping me – not as a romantic evening. I have my hopes way too high for the night.

"How do I look?" I ask, standing up and holding my arms out.

"Mom would say you're hot and would have spanked you on the bottom."

Tears well up in my eyes. Yeah, Cynthia would have called me hot and smacked my ass as she walked by. The way Pearl says it hits me in the chest. It's amazing how much my daughters watched me interact with their mother without me realizing they were watching. Hopefully, I was a good enough role model for them to have high expectations for their own adult relationships.

"I need to go pick her up, Pearl." I wag my finger like I'm telling her something important. "A man should always be a gentleman and pick up the woman properly for a date. He should ring the bell, talk to your father, and open doors. I should also bring her a gift. What should I take her?"

***

"What are you holding?" Lucy asks, swinging her door open.

I avert my eyes from her ample cleavage and try to form words. Fucking hell, she can fill a dress. It's red and long, fitting her like a second skin in all the right places. How am I supposed to get through the night without begging to tear the dress from her body? My mouth waters at the bodice of the dress that shows the side of her breasts – breasts I want to suck on.

"Um, I asked my daughter for advice. We're working on being a good guest and bringing something. I asked her what I should bring you." I shrug and hold out the items I purchased on the way here. "I went with her advice because it's different. I thought I'd have a shot of standing out from the crowd."

Lucy smiles, and her fingers brush my hand as she takes the item. "Yes, well, it's been a long time since a boy gave me a candy necklace and a bouquet of Pixie Sticks. How could the other boys ever compete?"

"You look amazing," I say, trying to control my breath so I don't sound like a middle school kid who's never seen a naked woman. Hell, I've seen this woman naked, but it's a pleasure every single time. Will I ever stop liking how she looks or stop drooling over her? Even if she's old and gray, I can't ever imagine a time when I won't want Lucy.

I'm so utterly fucked.

I gulp and offer her my arm. "You ready?"

"Let me grab my purse. Do you want to come in?"

Is it the policeman in me, or is it the obsession I have with my high school girlfriend that compels me to see what her house looks like now? I step through her doorway without a moment's hesitation and take a deep breath, trying to commit the scent of her house to memory and looking around with wide eyes.

Lucy has always been clean. Even her bedroom in high school had the bed made and no dust on the her small homework desk. For a boy who threw his underwear wherever he pleased, I was fascinated then. I'm even more fascinated now because the condo is sparse, with very little furniture, but it's immaculate and smells like pine cleaner. There's an Ikea couch facing a small flat-screen TV. A wooden coffee table in the middle of the room is bare except for a small, white candle and a set of hand-carved coasters. A bookshelf, decorated with picture frames of a dog and sunflower fields, is on the far side of the room. No wedding pictures are on the shelf, and only a few books are scattered between the frames and a small vase of real flowers. Part of me wants to step further toward the shelf and see what she reads. I squint to read the spines, and they look like sci-fi.

Some things never change.

"Still a clean freak, huh?" I ask. Her eyes darken like a cloud just passed over them. I clear my throat and backpedal. "Sorry if I offended you. Did I say something wrong?"

"I've always been clean, but it's…well, it's an obsession now," she says, wringing her hands. I look at the candy I brought her. It's on the end table in the entryway and at a perfect 90-degree angle. She follows my gaze. "You ever see Sleeping with the Enemy with Julia Roberts?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"Remember how the husband liked the cans and towels? Well, that was Beck." She looks at the floor. "If you get punched or kicked enough for having stuff out of order, your body and mind won't let you have things disorganized. I like clean. It kept me safe. Well, safer than what I was if something wasn't decorated or dust-free. He wanted blankets perfectly folded, even if they were in the linen cabinet. Ever try to fold a fitted sheet perfectly? I equate clean with safety. Mess makes me uneasy."

I'm within an inch of her in seconds. "Lucy," I whisper, and my hands cup her cheek before I can question if it's a good idea to touch her outside of the club. It's been a long time since I've touched her without paying. Both of us flinch. It's funny that touching her without a pole or cum-stained upholstery under us feels weird. I pull my hand away and instantly miss her skin. "He was an awful piece of shit. A good man would never do that to you. You didn't deserve that. No woman does. Can we finally talk about it? Can you tell me so I can help you?"

She looks up at me, a tear in her left eye. She blinks, and it doesn't fall. "What's the point? It's over. At least, it is if he stays gone. I just wish I could find him to serve him papers. Part of me is scared of that, though. If he comes back and still wants me, he'll go into a rage. He told me several times that if I tried to leave him, he'd kill me. I'm...I'm fucking terrified, Aaron."

I grit my teeth and flex my jaw. Lucy instantly tenses at my expression, and I try to soften it. I focus on my breathing. This is a woman who doesn't like angry men in her proximity, even if the angry man could kill her abusive husband with his bare hands. I step back from her one step. "Let me help, Lucy. Do you want me to look into it?"

She shakes her head and puts her black clutch purse under her arm, wiping her cheek a little and taking a deep breath. "I tried calling the police, Aaron. I reported him missing. They said they'd look, but if he left voluntarily, there's nothing they can do. Everything points to him leaving voluntarily. They, well, they questioned his girlfriend. She hasn't seen him either."

I step back further. "Girlfriend? The fucker was even cheating on you?" I look at her in that dress I want to peel off her body, and my mouth drops open. "What idiot would cheat on you?"

She shrugs. "My husband isn't particularly bright, Aaron. Like I'm some prize anyway."

I step to her and cup her cheeks again. This time I press my forehead to hers. She can push me away if she wants, but I need to be near her. In her face. She doesn't push me away but puts her hands on my shoulders, not quite pulling me into her, but allowing the closeness in her home. Not in the club. Not after a blow job paid with taxpayer salary cash. She lets me breathe her in without music pumping through the speakers and a girl coming around selling shots in tubes. This feels more personal and intimate than when she crawled on my lap and let me hold her at the club.

"You are so much more than what you think, Lucy. I never asked why you work at that club. Are you in financial trouble? Did he take everything?"

"Your guess is as good as mine on if Beck had us in financial trouble. Maybe you can find that out too? I just needed to scramble to find a job to keep the lights on. I only had access to money to buy things that make me pretty or keep me fit."

I suck my bottom lip. "That's financial abuse, and it's a real thing."

She clucks her tongue. "That was the least of my abuse issues," she says, tilting her head. "After he left, I went through his office and couldn't find shit. I'm thankful to Peter for hiring me, even if it's creepy for a stripper to work for her cousin." She looks away. Is she hiding something? My intuition raises its head, and a chill moves up my back. "I was out of the job market for a long time, Aaron. I had to take what I could get. I bought some sparse furniture and sold the nice car for cash to pay for a new place and a smaller sedan. Oh yeah, Beck will be pissed about that when he comes back. Whatever. Guess I'll take my beating when the time comes."

"You'll do no such fucking thing. If he ever beats you again or even comes near your home or work except for a divorce proceeding, I'll show him his severed dick before I fuck his skull with it."

She slides her hand down my shoulders to my chest. Now I know what the romance novels Cynthia read meant when a woman says her nipples quiver. Mine definitely do something when she touches me, and my dick wakes up like it does whenever Lucy touches me anywhere below my neck.

"While that's a lovely gesture, do you think you can find him, Aaron?"

Sure. I'll add it to the list of things to do besides find something on Murphy and stay on top of my team to see who's killing men in my county. Hopefully, the two are related so I can kill two birds with one stone. Things are rarely that easy, though.

But Lucy's a top priority for me. "I'll look into it this week. I can't make promises. What do you want me to do if I find him?"

"I just want to know where he is. It'd be nice to know which direction to look when he comes back for me. I'm sure he will someday."

"Are you sure the girlfriend doesn't know anything? Have you talked to her?"

Lucy snorts a laugh and sniffs. "We talked. I showed up at her door when I hadn't seen Beck for a couple weeks. The suspense was killing me. I suddenly couldn't track his phone, and I couldn't sleep since I was just awake every night, wondering when he would show up and blame me for whatever kept him away. I went to her house, knocked on the door, and asked if she knew anything. I did it when her husband was at work. I didn't want to start trouble there."

"Why not? You could have caused issues for the woman that was Beck's side piece. That had to hurt."

She clenches her fists and chews on the inside of her cheek before answering. "Call it intuition, but I don't think it turned out too happy for her. Just a hunch I had. I waited until her husband left for work and knocked on the door. I introduced myself, and I could tell she was scared I was there to hurt her or something. Something in her eyes told me he hurt her when he didn't get his way with her too. She was scared of me. Of anything to do with him. Anyway, she fell for him the same way I did. He was charming at first and then started with a dirty look and a random shove. Eventually, he moved to a slap or a harder push. It progressed with her from there."

I make a mental note to pay the girlfriend a visit. Lucy's not a policewoman and not used to people lying to her. Maybe I can talk to the woman and learn something new. "Who is this woman? A coworker of Beck's?"

Lucy shakes her head. "Jalen Quarry is Ellen's husband." I make a mental note of the name. "Jalen worked with Beck."

I laugh and shake my head. "A wife beater, the cousin of a motorcycle club president with questionable ties to the mafia, and someone who likes diddling his coworker's wife. This just keeps getting better. Let me guess. They met at the company Christmas party and tickled each other's tinsel?"

Lucy smiles a crooked, close-lipped grin. "Probably something like that." Her smile slips away. "Not to be a drag about the police, but they said that the fact that he had a girlfriend and our marriage wasn't the best was the reason they weren't going to throw up road flares for him."

"That's unusual. You reported it to Chicago?"

She nods. "Yeah, they posted the missing person report around on social media. I filled out a form and provided a picture. Those were the beat cops. I don't think it ever moved up the chain. Present company excluded, but I don't have a high respect for the profession after all that was pushed under the rug when it was obvious I was being knocked around. Not one of them helped me, even if a doctor's eyebrows were raised enough to report it. Beck also told anyone who would listen that I was clingy and he couldn't wait to get away from me someday. I'm sure that didn't help with motivation."

Clingy? I'd sell my soul to the highest bidder to have Lucy cling to me like plastic wrap.

"But we have a hot night ahead of us, right?" She grips her purse tighter under her armpit and smiles. "You ready, Sheriff Dwyer?" She slides her hand in mine, and all thoughts of her dick ex-husband and his girlfriend are gone. All that matters is Lucy and the fact that I have one night to dig up something on Murphy Beckett and impress this woman for the second time in my life.

I wait as she locks the door, and I check the lock for her – my small gesture to let her know I take her safety seriously. I walk her to the passenger door of my car and wait as she adjusts her dress, reminding me of the time I drove her to senior prom. "Let's go save some turtles, gorgeous," I say, closing the door.