Chapter 8

"The divine is in us,

in our own intrinsic humanity,

like a diamond in a mine."

–Juan Ramon Jimenez

Rayne

The moment I stepped foot into the house I'd grown up in, I knew there was trouble. Normally, there would be warm smells of food or baked goods to greet me at the door.

The Cordova home sat on five acres of grassland surrounded by large oak and pecan trees, many of which I'd spent my youth trying to climb. Even though the place was smaller than the other homes on the street, with three bedrooms, two baths, and an office off the back porch area, it still felt huge to me.

"Mom?" I called out.

"Back here," Edith Cordova answered from the back of the home.

Shortly after I'd moved out, Randy had turned the covered porch into a sunroom of sorts by closing in the three walls. Now, Edith spent most of her days enjoying the sunny views of their backyard.

The Cordovas were the only parents I could remember having. They were my folks, yet for some reason, I had a difficult time calling them or thinking about them by anything but their names. It was as if my brain was broken. The pair of them had been so patient with me when I was growing up and called them by their first names instead of Mom and Dad. Most of the time it didn't bother them. At least they didn't show it.

As an adult, I noticed that when I did force the words, it made them so much happier. So I tried my hardest to show my appreciation in that small way.

I walked through the formal living area and down the long hall that passed the kitchen and dining room, and then stepped out onto what used to be our back porch. Now, the room was so much cozier. Oak French doors opened into the space. The entire back wall was floor-to-ceiling windows that Edith currently had propped open, letting in the warm breeze.

There was an old, oversized sofa, a small television set, a bookcase that was overflowing, and Randy's old plaid chair in the space.

When I saw Edith, I had to hold in a gasp.

"Is it that bad?" Edith said with a sigh as she sat up. She'd been lounging on the sofa and, from the looks of it, I'd woken her.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I said, ignoring her question.

She ran her hands over her once thick and shiny hair. Now, massive patches were missing and the silver-gray had turned to a dirty gray color.

"You didn't," she answered. "I had hoped to make you some cookies or some of my crumb cake you like so much. But I suppose I lost track of time."

"It's okay." I sat next to her and pulled her into my arms. When had she gotten so fragile? Breast cancer was stealing the only woman I loved right in front of my eyes.

"We can head into town?" I suggested suddenly. "Grab a coffee and treat at Creole's?" I added.

Creole Coffee Company was one of Edith's favorite places to go.

"I don't know," she answered with a sigh. "I just don't feel like being seen right now."

I reached up and touched her face, noting that it was puffy and slightly odd-colored. The chemo was doing a trick on her. Still, she was here. She was still fighting.

"Mom," I sighed. "Let me take you to Aria." Edith closed her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. "She has these wigs…" I started.

Edith's eyes flew open. "I don't want to wear a goddamned wig." Then she sighed. "Sorry, sweetie. It's just…"

"I know. You don't have to apologize to me." I hugged her again.

"No, I suppose I don't."

I felt like the world was ending as I held her and she cried for a few moments.

"Okay, fuck it." She leaned back. "I'm so over feeling sorry for myself." She straightened her shoulders. "Enough tears." She nodded once as she wiped her face. "It's past time I did this." She reached up and I watched her eyes turn sad as she touched her hair. "Call Aria. See if she can fit me in. She glanced down at the gray sweats she was wearing. "I'll go put on something more appropriate."

I smiled and nodded and pulled out my phone as she walked out of the room.

"Hey." Aria answered on the third ring.

"Hey, tell me you have a slot empty in half an hour," I asked.

Aria was quiet. "Your mom?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"I'll make the time. Come on down," Aria said and hung up.

Leaning back, I closed my eyes and thought of all the good times I'd had thanks to Edith.

Just before Randy and James Lee, an officer who had died of heart failure five years ago, found me, the couple had just lost their only son, Randy Jr., to SIDS. It had been a miracle that they'd gotten pregnant with Randy Jr. The chances of it happening again were practically zero.

Then I'd come into their lives. If not for them, who knows where I would have ended up? Since becoming a cop, I'd seen many kids enter the system. Our county had implemented a new registry a few years back, thanks to Randy and Edith.

Our state had one of the highest numbers of children under the age of eleven in the foster care system. The last time I checked, there were over four thousand kids in the system, and only a quarter of that was for registered families.

I'd thought about adding my name to that list, but my job and my current life could not handle such an endeavor. At least not at the moment.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked Edith as I drove us into town. "I don't want you to feel like I strongarmed you into this."

She chuckled. "Sweetie, I was never the one who fell for your big puppy dog eyes. It was your father who always caved to your demands."

I chuckled. It was true. Edith had always been the stronger parent while Randy, well, he was slush when it came to me. The man had always given me everything I'd ever asked for. If I wanted two helpings of dessert, he'd give it to me. Whenever I got in trouble or received a bad grade, I'd tell Randy first. The punishment was always lighter than what I received when Edith found out first.

Still, in the past few years, we'd grown closer than we had when I'd lived under her roof. I never doubted her love for me. Not once.

When we'd found out the first time about her cancer diagnosis, it had hit all of us hard. That first surgery, the double mastectomy, I'd taken off work to be by her side. I'd been the one to watch over her, empty her drains, and give her a sponge bath. I'd stuck by her side for weeks until she'd fully recovered.

The next two surgeries, the removal of lymph nodes and her thyroid, I'd been there as well. Maybe seeing her in such a vulnerable state when she'd always been the strong one changed the way I saw her.

My personality and hers were so much alike that often, when I spoke out, I'd hear her voice in my head saying the same words.

I parked in front of Jazzed Up Hair Salon.

Aria waved at us through the large windows.

"Ready?" I asked Edith.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

For the next hour, the salon was filled with tears and laughter. This wasn't the first time that Aria had to shave a woman's head or fit her with a wig. It was, however, the first time I'd witnessed it.

To my surprise, halfway through the process, Charlotte walked in carrying pink roses and balloons along with cupcakes for everyone in the room.

Somehow, they'd managed to turn it into a celebration instead of the death of what some considered to be a woman's most important beauty feature.

I had to admit, the wig looked so much better than the patches of scraggly hair she had earlier.

"I feel like a new woman," Edith said, reaching out and taking my hand and squeezing it softly. "Thank you." She took Aria's hand too. "Both of you. All of you." She laughed as she looked over at Charlotte.

"You look amazing." Charlotte smiled.

The silver wig matched Edith's old hair almost perfectly. Aria had purchased it with her in mind when we'd found out she had to go through chemo this time.

Honestly, I couldn't have found a better friend to watch out for the woman who had watched out for me.

"Thank you," I said, hugging Aria.

When we drove back to the house, Randy's eyes teared up when he saw Edith. The hug that followed warmed my heart. In thirty years of marriage they'd been through the hell of losing a child, fighting cancer twice, and raising me. Yet they were still so strongly in love.

No wonder I struggled with relationships. Nothing I'd found so far had sticking power like what I'd grown up with.

"I feel good enough to make us dinner," Edith said as we walked inside.

"Nope, not tonight. I've got some steaks on the grill. Tonight, I'm cooking." Randy took my hand in his and mouthed, "Thank you."

Having dinner with my parents was always a joy. I tended to leave more relaxed than when I'd arrived. One of the rules that Edith had was no shop talk at the dinner table.

I knew Randy itched to ask me how the case was going, and I wanted to ask him his opinions on a few things. But we stuck to lighthearted topics instead and talked about the county fall fair coming to town in a few months. We replayed some fun gossip going around town and talked about world events and news.

As Randy walked me out to my Jeep, only then did we touch on work.

I filled him in on a few key details, and he helped shed some light on what path to take next.

I turned to leave but stopped when something dawned on me.

"You'd have to be notified if any undercover agents were working on cases in your town, right?" I asked.

Randy's expression didn't change. "What do you mean?"

"Like, say, if a DEA agent was in town." I watched his expression change ever so slightly. "You knew?" I asked.

"Knew what?" He shook his head.

"Jameson Lorenzo." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"How'd you find out?" Randy asked.

I smiled. "I'm thinking of dating him. Only…" I frowned. "It's not such a great time for that."

He nodded slowly. "I'd agree. The man has an impressive background. One that has to be kept between us, for now."

"Why?" I narrowed my eyes slightly. "What is it you're not telling me?"

He shrugged. "Let him do his job. You do yours." He turned and started walking inside. "Night. See you at work tomorrow."

"Night," I called out.

Driving through town on a Saturday night, I knew all the hot spots that would be active. Mainly, around the bar areas.

There was a long row of bikes outside of Bayou Brews, and I almost drove past but slowed when I spotted both Jameson's bike and Aria's Mini.

Pulling into a parking spot, I debated going in for a full five minutes. I pulled out my phone and shot a text to Aria.

"What are you doing at the BBB?"

I didn't have to wait long for an answer.

"Tobias and I are having a drink. Come on in and join us. Since it's obvious you're outside."

What the hell? I thought as I climbed out of my Jeep.

Bayou Brews and Blues was a three-story classic brick building in the heart of the oldest part of town. Sometime when I was in high school, a couple purchased the building and refurbished it. After their hard work, they'd sold it to the current owner, Jackson Pennington, who had opened the blues-style bar. In all honesty, it was one of the nicest bars in town.

The fact that it was the place the Reapers hung out didn't normally deter other guests. Every Friday and Saturday, the place hosted live jazz and blues music. They served basic bar foods upstairs in a small dining area. There were three pool tables, dart boards, and four large-screen televisions behind the bar that always played whatever sports games were currently on.

The moment I walked into the crowded bar I instantly wished I'd gone straight home. Normally, you would never find me in such a crowded place. It wasn't that I hated people. Well, okay, I hated most people and tolerated some.

"Rayne," a few people I'd known since school called out to me as I passed them by. Smiling, I yelled over the loud saxophone music if they had seen Aria.

One of them pointed upstairs, so I made my way to the bar and ordered a beer before heading up. A few Reaper members were sitting at the bar talking, none of them Jameson. I spotted a few more near the pool tables along with a few of the women that always hung around them.

Isabella Sinclair had been a few grades lower than me. She'd been a troubled girl as far back as I could remember. My theory was that she'd come from an abusive home and had practically raised herself. She was an attention hog. In classes, she'd learned early that any attention was good attention. Often, she'd start fights or bully the weaker girls. She laughed when she made any of her victims cry, almost as if she got off on tears.

Isabella, or Izzy as everyone called her, could have easily been the all-American, small-town princess, if not for the rotten core inside. As with the rest of the Reapers, she was covered almost head to toe in tattoos, except for that face of hers, which could have easily been on any magazine cover. She'd dyed the ends of her long blonde hair with bright pink, purple, and, this week's color, blue.

Then there was Nadia Monroe. The woman was a gym rat who could probably outlift most men in the Reapers. But since she had ovaries, she was kept from achieving full member status.

Nadia's parents had moved out of town shortly after her graduation, around the same time she'd joined the Reapers. She was shorter than I was and had long jet-black hair with bleached tips. Her toned and tanned body had even more muscles than tattoos, which covered almost every inch of her arms, shoulders, and legs.

Out of the two of them, Nadia Monroe was the one I would pick to watch closely. The woman never showed emotions. Her intelligence was, according to her records, off the charts.

Someone that smart didn't stick around the gang for scraps. She was after something.

Not spotting Jameson in the mix, I took my beer and headed upstairs.

Aria and Tobias sat in a low circular booth area with a round coffee table. Seeing the handful of empty beers and shot glasses on the table, I sat next to Aria.

"Hey, kids," I said, leaning back. "What are we celebrating tonight?"

"Nothing." Aria leaned over and hugged me. "Everything."

"We finally picked a date," Tobias said with a smile.

"Finally?" I laughed. "You mean, out of the half dozen dates you finally picked one of them?"

They both looked at one another. "We've decided on a new date," Aria said cheerfully.

"Okay, shoot. What's the date?" I asked.

"October tenth." Tobias smiled. "It's easy to remember. Ten, ten."

"Plus, it's on a Saturday this year and I called the hall and they're open so we booked it." Aria squealed and hugged Tobias. "We're getting married."

I laughed and picked up my beer. "And to think, it only took three years."

"Three years, six months, thirteen days, and"—Tobias glanced at his watch and narrowed his eyes—"twenty-two hours."

I'd been there less than half an hour before finally spotting Jameson downstairs playing pool.

I didn't know if he'd spotted me yet so I watched him as I leaned on the railing overhead.

Izzy was trying her best to get the man to notice her. Her black leather corset top had her solid Ds hiked up to her chin, and half of her butt cheeks hung out under the matching leather skirt she wore with it. The thigh-high boots completed the woman's outfit, which made me instantly wonder how anyone could be comfortable in an outfit like that.

I glanced down at the black jeans, blue button-up shirt, and heeled boots I'd dressed up in for dinner at my folks' place. This was my standard attire.

Except for the handful of sundresses I owned for occasions such as attending church with the Cordovas or special party events, this was as dressy as I got.

I glanced up just in time to see Izzy press her chest against Jameson's side and whisper something that had him laughing.

There wasn't an ounce of jealousy in my bones. Not normally. But at that moment, I wanted to kick in the other woman's teeth.

Turning away, I leaned on the half wall and watched Aria and Tobias together. What did it take to have something like they did?

The pair had pretty much fallen for one another at first sight. Tobias was a good man. One who had helped raise his younger sister after his father had been shot and killed in a drive-by shooting when he'd been thirteen. Randy had been the cop to put the two twenty-year-old shooters behind bars. Shortly after that, Randy took the chief of police gig.

Aria's story wasn't as sad as Tobias's. Aria came from a middle-class family. They lived in a nice house just outside of town. Had good-paying jobs. Went to church every Sunday. Her mother volunteered at the school and the nursing home, while her father donated his time as a volunteer firefighter.

They were the stereotypical small-town family. With one exception. Aria was adopted. Both of her parents were black and had chosen to adopt Aria, a very pale white girl with flyaway blonde hair, at the tender age of six.

I think it was this fact that made us so close. The fact that neither of us knew our real roots was one of the first reasons we'd become friends. After that, well, we just sort of melted together as best friends.

"Taking in the view?"

I glanced over to see Jameson leaning against the wall next to me. How had he gotten there without me noticing?

"Sure." I took a sip of my second beer as Jameson glanced over to watch Aria and Tobias for a second. "It appears as if you were enjoying the game downstairs," I said, turning around to look over the crowd below.

"Pool isn't my sport," he replied, leaning next to me.

"Oh?" I asked, bumping his shoulder with mine. "What is your sport?"

Instead of answering, he smiled quickly and my knees wobbled. If I hadn't been leaning on the wall, I wondered if I would have fallen.

"Looks like Izzy is signed up to play on your team." I motioned with my head to where the woman had been below.

He leaned closer to me and lowered his voice.

"I've already picked my team," he whispered. "We need to talk." He ran his hand down my arm and squeezed my hand, placing a piece of paper in it before turning and walking away.

I waited until I was locked in a bathroom stall before reading his message.

"They found out about us. Meet me at the cabin at one."

Totally sober now, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Shit. Just how big of trouble was he in thanks to me?