Chapter One
Jaron slathered peanut butter on a cracker and slid it across the table to Bobby. Bobby took it with a smile and contemplated a way to shove the whole thing into his mouth. Jaron gave him the dad look. "Small bites."
"Okay, Papa." Bobby's blue eyes had a way of sparkling with mischief even when trouble didn't intend to stalk him. His blond hair hung across part of his forehead, giving him an impish quality. He bit his cracker and kicked his legs to a rhythm only he heard.
Tracy came into the room with a T-shirt that had a panda on the front and pajama pants with clouds all over them. She had lost a bit of weight in the last couple of months, which had always been a sign that she'd started using again.
Jaron's gaze went to the inside of her arms, searching for track marks, but he couldn't see anything. He sighed in relief and turned away. "You look tired."
She smirked at him as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Thanks. I got in late last night."
She dug around in her pocket, holding a wad of cash in her hand. She laid it on the table in front of Jaron, and then sat next to Bobby. "Momma got some dough." She ruffled Bobby's hair.
Bobby gave her an annoyed look, which made her laugh.
It would have made Jaron laugh too, but he couldn't take his eyes off the money next to the peanut butter jar.
"Where did you get it?"
Tracy smiled at him. "Does it matter? At least I'm contributing. Now you can stop complaining."
Jaron shook his head and slid the money across the table to her. "It does matter. I thought you finished with that."
Tracy rolled her eyes and slid the money across the table again. "I'm not using meth."
"Another cracker, Papa."
Jaron gave Bobby a smile. He slathered peanut butter on a cracker and slid it over to him.
"I gotta work in a few minutes. Are you gonna stay sober enough to take care of Bobby?"
When Tracy stood, the chair scraped across the linoleum. "How many times do I have to tell you, Jaron?"
Jaron narrowed his eyes. "You have a lot of trust to build back. Throwing d-r-u-g money at me isn't exactly winning you points." He spelled the word drug because he didn't want Bobby exposed to that kind of thing. His mother being an addict was enough of a problem.
Bobby stiffened, and his shoulders came up to his ears. He placed his half-eaten cracker on the table.
Jaron smiled, softening his facial features as much as possible. Arguing in front of him had already done the damage, though. Jaron could see the wariness in his eyes.
When Tracy sighed and reached out to him, her palm held open for him to take. Jaron shook his head but placed his hand in hers. She smiled and met his gaze. "I know. I'm trying this time, Jaron."
After five years of her saying that same thing and then using again, believing her didn't come easy. They'd been down that road before and Jaron needed to turn off it for Bobby's sake. Even selling drugs, she'd only stay sober for a few months before she shot up all the profits. "I don't want your dealer boyfriend coming to me because you owe him money. I won't pay it like I did the last time."
"I'm not gonna do that this time. Vince takes care of me." A sparkle entered her eyes, and she wiggled her eyebrows.
"‘Vince'?" It took him a minute to figure out who she meant. Tracy had a lot of friends. She had one of those personalities that made her a fun person to hang out with, even when she got high all the time. Sometimes she brought her friends around, but she never distinguished them as boyfriends or guys she fucked. And Jaron didn't care enough to pay attention. He only cared if she brought lowlife creeps around Bobby.
"Motorcycle and bandanna."
Jaron lifted his eyebrows. "He's in a gang, Tracy. Selling drugs with him is a big mistake. His gang is not one you should mess with."
Tracy let his hand go and shrugged. "He's making sure I stay clean. Doesn't let me shoot any of the drugs I sell." She lifted her chin. "That's how I know I'll stay sober."
Her thinking was completely backward. "Just keep him away from Bobby."
"I know. We're not that into each other yet." Tracy always said the same thing about every guy she dated. The only difference was the business arrangement she had with Vince. That might complicate things in ways she hadn't thought of yet.
"Selling is a dangerous business."
"I know what I'm doing."
"Famous last words." Jaron passed the jar of peanut butter and sleeve of crackers across the table before he stood. He kissed Bobby on the head. "I gotta go, snuggle bear."
"Gotta go to work." Bobby's bright blue eyes flashed at him.
"That's right. I'll bring you back some fries. Be good for Mommy." Jaron walked around Bobby's chair and kissed Tracy on top of her blonde head. "Do me a favor and stay home today."
"I wasn't gonna go out until after you came home."
Jaron nodded and put on his shoes. He heard Tracy and Bobby talking, but he couldn't hear what they said.
The diner sat on the corner of Fifth and Water Street. The building fit the corner, designed to catch the eye with its strange shape and large windows at the front. The booths had red vinyl and white tabletops. At some point in the past, the wait staff comprised of females in dresses with aprons covering them, but that had given way to jeans and a T-shirt with the diner's logo on the front, and gender stopped mattering. It had been a diner since the day someone had decided to build it, and it would remain one into the distant future.
The diner had a life of its own. People moved around and through it. It seemed content with remaining stuck in time with its long, white counter and red stools. Businesspeople had turned to first responders and police officers when the station had gone in on the next block over in the 1960s. A few tourists and regulars made up the rest of the patrons.
Jaron knew the history behind the building because some city official marked the place as a historic site and placed a green plaque next to the front door sometime shortly after the city had finished building the new station. Jaron knew the words by heart because every time he started his shift he went through the front door instead of using the back like the other cook. The sign drew his eye, and his mind latched on until he had the thing memorized.
Jaron patted Jody's shoulder. He had no idea what Jody did for a living, but she always ordered breakfast burritos and ate them between typing on a laptop.
"Hey there, sweet." Jody could multitask so well. She could make extra money giving lessons.
Jaron smiled. "Hey. You look like you're working hard."
Jody smirked. She pulled her dark hair away from her face and didn't bother putting on make-up that morning, not that she needed it. She had a pretty complexion without it. "Always have a deadline. Always."
Jaron moved around her, waving to his best friend, Andrew and his partner, Mike. The two of them ate there twice a week. "How's Bobby, vato?"
"Fine. Fine. Watching too much television this summer."
"Did you get him signed up for school yet?" Andrew had dark circles under his eyes that spoke of the harshness of his job.
Jaron never asked about Andrew's detective work, and he watched the news once a week at best. Even he'd noticed the spike in murders.
Andrew hung onto a cup of coffee with both hands and didn't let go even when Jaron slid up next to his booth. Andrew moved over and let Jaron sit next to him.
Jaron had about fifteen minutes before his shift started. He always came early, wanting to socialize a bit before work.
"Not yet. Not sure about putting him in a city school."
Andrew raised one dark eyebrow, which made him look like a badass. Just one. Jaron wished he could do that. It would make him seem a little mysterious. Every emotion he felt lay all over his face, so no mystery. And he pretty much said whatever he thought the exact moment the thought occurred.
"You and Tracy gonna put him through private school?" The way Andrew looked at him, he doubted their ability to afford that, and he wasn't wrong.
Jaron snorted out a chuckle. "On a cook's salary? Not hardly."
There went that eyebrow again. "Then what you gonna do?"
Jaron shrugged. "Not sure yet." He'd been thinking of Bobby's wellbeing more and more. He and Tracy lived in a poor neighborhood. They couldn't afford to live in the suburbs where schools held less violence and a better curriculum.
"Fall's coming soon." Mike spoke around a mouth full of eggs and toast.
"I know."
"How's Tracy?" Andrew probably already knew the answer to that question. He didn't suck at his job. He might investigate homicides, but he had friends in other departments and resources he could use.
Jaron leaned in and whispered in his ear. "She says she's clean, but she handed me a wad of cash right before I left for work." He might feel weird telling a cop about Tracy selling drugs but he didn't know if he cared if Tracy got caught. Maybe that would finally wake her up. Tough love and all that.
"Need me to go over there and check on them?"
Jaron shook his head. "I think she's staying sober for a while this time." He worried about the guy she got the drugs from, though. Jaron would give it time, and if the guy turned even a little bit dangerous, he would tell Andrew.
"I just hope she stays that way." Andrew let go of his mug and slid it over to Jaron.
Jaron hoped so too but the only time she had ever stayed sober for any significant period was when she was pregnant with Bobby. That had been when they'd first met. Two weeks after delivering she'd gone out and gotten high.
He smiled and took a sip of Andrew's coffee. "So, how's your mom?" Nothing better than changing the subject. Tracy's drug addiction saddened him, and he had a whole eight-hour shift to get through. Better to do that with a happy attitude.
"Worried and tells me every day." Despite Andrew's words, he had a smile on his face.
Jaron lay his head on Andrew's shoulder. "Can't say I blame her. You work too much."
"It's not the amount I work, vato."
The other detective nodded. "Amen to that."
Connie, who owned the diner and worked as a waitress most days, gave him a look.
Jaron nodded and moved from the booth. "I'll talk to you later."
"Call me if you need me to go get Bobby. Mami would love spending time with him."
Jaron nodded. "Thanks."
Andrew would make a great father and partner in life. He didn't see that in himself, though. Jaron wasn't sure why. "I mean it, vato."
"Okay. I'll call home soon. See what's what. I'll let you know how that goes. Deal?"
"Deal."
Jaron leaned in and kissed Andrew on the cheek. He had a five o'clock shadow just starting. It poked at Jaron's lips. Jaron ran the back of his fingers over it. "You need time off, I think."
"Tell that to the criminals."
"I've been trying, but you cops keep them out of the diner." The diner wasn't in the part of town where most of the criminals hung out, not with the police station so close. It lay in a little bubble of peace most of the time — a sanctuary where Jaron had friends and people who understood him, sometimes better than he understood himself.
Andrew grinned. "Go make these hungry people lunch and leave me in peace, cabrón."
Jaron turned and headed to the opening in the counter. He tapped his ass, silently telling Andrew to kiss it.