Page 31 of Justice for Aleta

“You shouldn’t have to see that, that’s all. I mean, I’m sure it makes you feel?”

“Like you know what it’s like to love someone. That’s how it makes me feel. I’m not jealous of her, Jack. She’s gone. Just like you’re not jealous of the pictures I have around of Joshua and Jorie.”

“Yeah, but this is… massive. I mean, look at this thing. I can’t believe I left it hanging here so long. Maybe when this is all over you can help me find something to hang up here that’ll be a little more… cheerful.” It occurred to him in the moment that the portrait made him feel worse when he looked at it. He needed to find something else, something that would make him feel like he was moving forward instead of stuck. Aleta made him feel that way, like he had a future and it was bright and promising. Well, it would be after they got all the mess behind them.

“Where do I need to put my things?”

“Come on. I’ll show you. Do you want your own room?”

Her eyes went wide. “Do you want me to have my own room?”

“No. I want you in my bed.”

“That’s where I want to be too.”

“Then I guess that’s settled!” he said with a laugh and tousled her hair. “I think you’ll like my bedroom.”

That was an understatement. When he flipped the light on, Aleta gasped. The walls were a dark sueded blue, with slate gray and copper bedding. There was more dark wood there, in the headboard, the chest, the dresser, even the frame of the mirror, and dark iron fittings. Not waiting for her to gape, he stepped across the room and flipped on the bathroom light. “Two sinks. Two commodes. A walk-in shower, and a glass-enclosed tub with a shower. We can both shower at the same time.”

“Unless we run out of hot water,” she offered.

“Nope. Tankless water heater. All the hot water you could possibly want.”

“So will you get mad if I stay in the shower for like an hour, until my skin is all pruney and I slosh when I walk?” There was a cheesy grin on her face, and he found it adorable.

“Sugar, you can stay in there as long as you like. I don’t care one bit.”

Aleta wandered back through the bedroom again, looking at the walls, the art hanging there, and opening the doors on the huge, walk-in closet. “Did you build this house?”

“I did. My brother Amos and I did most of the work. I’d helped him build his, so he helped me build mine. I had the foundation work contracted, most of the plumbing, the electrical, and the roof, but everything else, yeah. I did all the work in the kitchen.”

“I want to see it!” He knew what kind of reaction he was going to get when she walked through the kitchen door, and he could barely wait.

As soon as his feet hit the tile, he flipped on the light switch and listened to her gasp. He had to admit, it was impressive. Slate gray barn wood cabinets lined the walls, topped by black granite countertops. Huge side-by-side refrigerator with water and ice in the door. Double oven. Five-burner gas cooktop with an enormous range hood over it that swept toward the ceiling.

The room centered around an island with two bar sinks, multiple pop-up outlets, and a barn wood countertop coated with epoxy glaze resting on black cabinets. Copper-bottom pots hung on a rack above it, with dark bronze pendant lighting suspended here and there. “My gosh, this is beautiful,” Aleta whispered.

“I thought you might like it. That tile on the backsplash?” he said, pointing to shiny white and robin’s egg blue carved tiles. “My mom made all those. Hand-sculpted the designs after the underglaze was put on, then glazed them. Did some for Amos’s house too, if he ever gets one. Everybody comments on them.”

“They are amazing. Jack, this is an incredible house. And you’ve lived here alone all this time?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back against the front of the cabinets and folded his arms across his chest. “Just waiting for somebody to share it with, I guess.”

“Found anybody?” she asked and sashayed across to him, then leaned against him and ran her finger from his chin down his chest.

“Looks like it, unless she doesn’t want to be here.”

“I think she does.” She leaned back and looked up at him. “I heard you turn off the security system.”

“Yeah. State of the art. When you’re a law enforcement officer, you can’t be too careful. Crazy people you’ve arrested want to find you and beat you up or shoot you.”

“Nobody’s actually done that, have they?” She seemed alarmed at the prospect.

“The only one was a guy whose teenage son I’d arrested for drunken driving. He showed up out here a couple of times. I went out with my weapon, told him it wouldn’t have happened if his kid hadn’t been drunk, and that if he came out here again, I was going to have a restraining order filed against him. Never saw him again.”

“That’s good. So, do you think they can find us out here?”

“I’m sure if they want to, they can. Right now, I don’t think anybody’s looking for you, but when Menendez’s guys connect the dots, somebody will come sniffing around. You can bet on that.”

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