Kip's lower lip jutted out. "I wish I could find 'em! I'd give 'em a whopping."
I kissed my son on the head. "You would, would you? Well, thank you, sir. I appreciate the sentiment. Okay, we've done everything we can for now. I just hope they don't come back before the security system can be installed tomorrow."
"We could sleep here at the shop," Kip suggested. Miranda nodded, but I overruled them. We weren't about to take a chance on being here should the thieves make a return trip. I escorted everybody out the door, making sure it was firmly locked. With a little luck, tomorrow morning we wouldn't be facing the same thing that had awaited us this morning. But then again, what was there left to steal?
MURRAY JOINED US for dinner, bringing over three pizzas and a salad. She always knew when I needed her. My best friend, Mur looked like a cross between an Indian princess and a warrior woman. Tall, muscled, and stocky, her personality matched her regal beauty. I gave her a grateful smile as she slid dinner onto the counter.
The kids set the table, and we dug in, nobody saying very much. Miranda and Kip had never expressed much interest in my shop before, but seeing it destroyed had left quite an impression. After we finished eating, we sat around the dining room table, unwilling to leave the comfort of the kitchen.
"I hate to tell you this, but if this Jimbo character didn't do it, we're probably going to have a hard time finding out who did." She'd stopped to change into her familiar jeans and T-shirt and looked much more comfortable than she had that morning. "I checked out his rap sheet. He could be dangerous, Em. He's got some pretty harsh charges against him."
"Dangerous?" I'd thought he was just a drunken slob.
"Apparently, when he was fifteen, Jimbo lost his little brother to some drifter. The transient, I think his name was Gats, killed the kid—real nasty stuff. Well, Jimbo went a little weird in the head after that, and before the police could track down Gats, Jimbo found him and worked him over real good. Almost killed him, and probably would have if somebody hadn't called the cops. Jimbo didn't do any time; the cops looked the other way, considering what the circumstances were. But after that, he was in and out of trouble. Over the years he's racked up charges for burglary, a lot of assault and battery charges for bar brawls. We suspect he's running guns or drugs, but we don't have any proof. He's never done jail time, though. Always gets off due to one technicality or another. I tried to get hold of him today, but he wasn't at any of his usual haunts. I'll go out looking for him again tomorrow."
I shook my head. We picked up our coffee cups and went into the living room. I asked the kids to give us some privacy, and they took off, Miranda to the kitchen and Kip, upstairs.
When we were alone, I leaned back, resting my head against the sofa. "Everything seems out of kilter." I spilled out my problems with Andrew. "By the time he left, the tension was so thick I could barely breathe. I dunno, I'm not sure what to do."
"Do you love him?" Murray's voice was calming, the voice of reason.
I shrugged. "I honestly don't know."
"If you don't know, then you don't love him. There's no shame in that. He just isn't the right person. I think you're making the right choice by waiting, and if he can't handle it, then that's his problem."
"How about you?" I asked. "How's your love life?" Murray didn't have many affairs, seldom hooking up with anybody, but when she did, the relationships were always torrid and brief, burning out before they could really begin.
She stared down at her coffee cup. "Love life? What love life? I go home and what do I do? I work on a project or call my aunt or read. I don't have much of a social life other than you. At work, I'm the token minority and the token woman. Oh, the guys are nice to me, except for Coughlan, but they never ask me out when they go out for drinks in the evening. Not dates, but you know, to unwind from the day? Greg and Deacon used to, but now that I'm a detective, they've backed away. "
"Maybe you and Andrew—" I was joking, but she still gave me a dirty look.
"He's not my type. I'm not even sure what my type is. I thought I knew, but now I think maybe I never did. Anyway, I'm too busy with the problems at work to worry about my nonexistent sex life." She set her cup down. "Want to read the cards?"
' The cards. I hadn't touched the cards since Daniel's death. "Maybe in a week or so, when things calm down. They're so topsy-turvy all of a sudden that I don't know whether I'm coming or going. Damn it, everything was settled, and now this—"
The phone rang, and I grabbed it, hoping it was the station with some news about the vandals. No such luck. It was Roy. My ex. My absolutely horrendous, abusive, cheating, cheapskate of an ex-husband who would rot in hell if there was justice in the universe. "What do you want?" I didn't feel like being polite.
His voice grated on my nerves. "The check is going to be late this month. I'm in Aruba, so don't sic your goddamn lawyers on me just because I'm a couple days late. This trip is Tyra's birthday present, and I'm not going to let your whining ruin it." I heard a high-pitched squeal next to him and then a flurry of breathless words. His little trophy wife, no doubt, berating him for even calling me.
"How nice she gets a trip to Aruba when you forget to send your children Christmas presents or even a card for their birthdays." I grimaced; I hadn't meant that to slip out, but it was too late now. Oh well, might as well plunge into what really mattered. "How late are you talking?"
"Crap, you've really turned into a bitch, haven't you? Are you so hard up that you can't wait a few days? I don't know how late. I'll be as late as I goddamn well please." Once again, Mr. Father of the Year was showing his true colors.
I cleared my throat. He wanted hardball? He'd get it. "If I don't have your check by the fifteenth, then my lawyers will be in touch with your employer, and we'll garnishee your wages. Do you understand me, Roy? I don't need your money, but your children are entitled to it, and I'll be damned if I let you squirm out of your obligation. Unless ..." I paused, considering the trump card I'd been waiting to play.
"Unless what?" I could hear interest in his voice, but he obviously wasn't going to make this easy.
"Unless you sign over sole custody to me and give up any rights you have as their father." Please, oh please, for my children's sake say no, but for my sake, say yes. Torn, knowing either way we would lose because with Roy, there was no way not to lose, I waited for his response.
His voice was softer when he finally spoke. "I'll call my lawyer and have him wire you the money tomorrow. I'm going to send you the cash for the rest of the year, so don't bother me again until January."
"Don't you even want to see your children this year? Don't you even care?" My heart sank. He wasn't going to give in. He had to hang on to the illusion that he was a good father, even though he never even bothered to call the kids or wanted to see them.
Roy let out a huge sigh. "I don't know what you expect out of me." He paused, then continued, patronizing me as if I were a little slow. "Look, I know I forgot Christmas and Kip's birthday. I'm so busy making all this money to send to you for the kids that I don't have time to do things like pick out presents and take them out to the zoo on the weekends. Tell you what, I'll enclose an extra check, and you can get them something and tell them it's from me." And then, he hung up.
I stared at Murray, who had been listening to the whole interaction. "He's never going to admit that he doesn't give a damn about his kids," I whispered. "He's going to go on being a shadow presence in their lives, keeping them hoping. Damn him, I hope his boat sinks while he scubas in Aruba."
She reached out and squeezed my hand. "Well, if he's down in Aruba, then he didn't trash your shop." We chatted for a while longer, then she said, "Okay, I've got to take off. Wish I could stay, but I need to get to bed. I've been going in early every morning since I got this job."