I fell to the thinly-carpeted floor with a loud thud. "Gah!" I groaned.
On the couch, Maddox was silent. The living room was dark, with shadows alternating like thin shafts of amber street light. Strange shapes occupied strange corners. Where was I? More importantly, what was I doing?
"Lexi?" said Maddox, his voice muffled with sleep. "Were we... did we...?"
Images flooded my brain. His lips were on mine, his arms were tightly around me. Feelings that had long been dormant suddenly emerged and took over. My hands were under his shirt, running over his hard chest. Someone had been working out. No, wait, that wasn't what I was supposed to be thinking! "Uh-huh," I whispered.
"Oh. Oh!" I felt him shift his position on the couch, and his breathing sounded labored. "I didn't mean... I think, I didn't mean... Maybe, I..."
"We were half asleep," I said. Guilt coursed through me.
"Parts of me feel very awake." I began to move and Maddox reached out for me, catching me by the arm. "Stay on the floor for a minute," he said. "If you're next to me, I might forget all about things we shouldn't do and remind us why we should be doing those things again."
"We can't," I choked.
"We can't," he agreed. "I don't want to be that man and you don't want to be that woman. That is, I do want to be that man, but not in that way. I think I'll shut up now."
"Uh-huh," I said, unable to think of anything better to say.
After a couple long minutes, Maddox shifted again and sat up, his feet landing next to me. I wondered when he’d taken his shoes off. "I'm awake now," he said. "I can't apologize."
I turned to see him, finding the whites of his eyes in the gloom. "I don't expect you to! Should I apologize?"
"Nope." He paused, then said, "Not gonna lie, that was a very nice way to wake up."
"I have a fiancé lying in the hospital in a coma," I said softly as I landed my face in my palms.
"I have an ex-girlfriend with a fiancé in a coma," said Maddox. "And there's someone. Maybe a someone. I don't know."
"We're bad people," I mumbled into my palms.
"We're not bad people. It wasn't a mistake, but totally accidental."
"Accidents are tripping over or... or..." Accidents didn't involve lips and hands.
"Don't beat yourself up, Lexi. It happened. It doesn't have to leave this room."
Guilt filled me. He was right; it was an accident. We were two people who loved each other, abruptly ended our relationship, and in time, we fell out of love. Hadn't we? Since that time, we developed a strong and solid friendship of mutual trust, respect and affection. After waking up next to each other, our automatic reaction was to kiss and touch. Nothing I could say or think took away the confusion or guilt I felt. I wasn't even sure I could blame it on the torment of being so afraid for Solomon, and for me. I shouldn't have sleepily taken comfort from Maddox. At least, we were fully awake and we stopped before we both did something we regretted, because that was something I could never forgive myself for.
"Tell me about this maybe someone," I said.
"Not much to tell."
"Tell me anyway."
Maddox slipped off the couch and landed next to me. We were inches apart but not touching. I could still feel his warmth and his cologne was comfortingly familiar. A memory of him purchasing it rushed into my head. "I met her a long time ago but she just came back into my life," he began. "I met her in school actually, when I was sixteen. There's a chance she could be something more now but I haven't been able to commit to the idea yet."
"Because of me?" I wondered, then realized I said it out loud.
Maddox nodded. "Because of you is part of it, but now, I think, maybe I should give it a shot. You're never coming back to me, not while you still have Solomon," he said. I was surprised he didn't sound sad, but I sensed an odd resignation in his voice.
"Don't make her your second place girl," I said, feeling guilty and wondering if I had any right to say anything. If I were the girl, I'd kick my ass.
"Not second place. More like second chance." Maddox paused. He lifted his arm and ran a hand through his hair, his face still in shadows. I wished I knew what he was thinking. I wished I could turn back time and never hurt him. And I wished he wasn't telling me all this stuff. "Solomon was right to send you to me. I will always be here for you, you know that. He knows that. If something happened to him, you and I..."
"I would never make you the second place guy," I said softly in the dark.
"I never thought you would. It would get a second chance at first place. A do-over." He sighed again and my heart lurched at the sadness I caused and failed to heal. "I'm glad Solomon's safe and I think he will wake up and be fine. I'm glad you are okay too," he said.
"Yeah," I said, wondering if I really were okay, or was just pretending.
"It's four in the morning," he said. "We need to get some rest."
I glanced at the couch, and raised my eyebrows, glad he couldn't see me. I thought he couldn't anyway. Maddox seemed to sense a lot so he probably sensed my eyebrows rising.
"You take one of the bedrooms," he said. "I'll take the couch."
"There're two bedrooms."
"I think it's better if I don't think about beds right now."
I leaned in and kissed his cheek. His breath caught and I wondered if he knew about the tear that rolled down my cheek. "Good night," I said before I got up and walked out of the room. I went into the closest bedroom, knowing it was absolutely the right thing to do. I unstacked the linens, spread out the pillow and comforter and got in, still fully clothed. I lay there a long time, staring at nothing and thinking about everything but when I finally slept, I dreamt about Solomon.
I awoke with a start, fully alert and ready to leap out of bed to tackle whatever woke me up. I sniffed. Coffee and bacon. It was those delicious scents that pulled me from sleep, not an attack. My stomach gave a little grumble and I stretched, blinking the sleep away before I froze. This wasn't my bedroom, or the hospital room. And why was I wearing my clothes in bed?
Recent memories flooded me and I squeezed my eyes shut as my face flushed red.
I was in the safe house, I accidentally kissed Maddox, and I awoke in my clothes because I crawled into bed wearing them.
On the bright side, getting dressed would be a breeze.
I pushed back the comforter and swung my legs out. I folded the linens, and when I had nothing left to do to procrastinate any longer, I walked out of the bedroom, aiming for the kitchen. Maddox had his back to me, but two cups were out on the counter, and the coffee pot was blinking.
A floorboard creaked under my foot. Maddox turned and smiled. "Morning," he said before turning back to the stove.
"Hey," I replied, just as awkwardly.
"Someone stocked the freezer with a few items. There isn't much but I made us bacon rolls and some coffee. I think we'll survive."
"That's good to know. Any news?"
"Not yet." Maddox took the skillet from the stove and slid the bacon onto the bread, folding the tops over. He passed a plate to me then poured a cup of coffee. "There's a bag of sugar over there and I think I saw some creamer if you want it."
"This is perfect," I said, blowing the steam from the top of my cup.
Maddox reached for his roll and bit into it just as his phone rang. "Yes?" he said, answering in a pause from chewing. "We're both here. It's Garrett," he said to me before continuing, "Really? With an actual bow around his neck? Any ideas who did that? Sure, we'll be there in thirty." He hung up and bit into the roll again.
"What?" I prompted.
"That was Garrett." Maddox shook his head and laughed. "The strangest thing happened this morning. Some guy was hogtied and tossed onto the sidewalk in front of the police station. He was gift-wrapped with one of those big, fancy, ribbon bows and a sign that said 'I'm Mooch'."
I froze, unsure whether Maddox was playing with me. "Are you for real?"
"I swear on my life that is what Garrett told me. We're needed down at the station. Finish your breakfast and we'll go. I think Mooch is willing to wait for us."
I was still trying to picture tough guy Mooch gift-wrapped when we walked into the police station. "This way," said Garrett, ushering us through quickly. "You look like you slept in those clothes."
"I did."
"Huh."
"What, huh?"
"I never saw you so disheveled before. You're usually so..." He waggled his hands around his head like a puppet.
"Sesame Street?" I guessed.
"Rough night?" he countered.
I sighed. "You have no idea."
"Well, the good news is we ran our gift's fingerprints and it turns out to be the right guy. Got a rap sheet about as long as my arm but mostly petty stuff. Theft and other misdemeanors. Did time for an assault about five years ago but nothing since. I figured he must’ve gotten smarter and didn't want to be shipped upstate again."
"How did he move from misdemeanors to hiring a hit man?"
"He has an affiliation to the Niners, the gang Mikey thought he was being initiated into, so it could be gang-related," said Garrett. "So far, he's not talking so we're letting him sit and panic a little while before we go at him harder."
"Surely being giftwrapped should have panicked him," said Maddox.
"You'd think."
"Any idea who dropped him off?" Maddox asked.
"There wasn't a gift tag. We already checked."
I had an idea who might have dropped Mooch off on MPD's doorstep but I figured enough panic had been caused last night when I announced Duncan O'Malley was in the hospital building. He offered his assistance in catching Mooch, but I didn't expect him to act quite so fast. I wasn't sure if I should be pleased with his success, given his own criminal status.
"What about last night's shooter?" asked Maddox, a beat before I asked the same question.
"We're still looking, but I got some good news. Results came back on the contents of that syringe. It was a heavy-duty muscle relaxant. The intention was probably for Solomon's heart to stop. It might not have killed him if he coded, but it would have been a huge warning," explained Garret.
I blinked. "That's good news?"
"Uh, I guess not, no. It's good news that we know what drug he used."
"You need to work on your good news, buddy," said Maddox. He clapped my brother on the back.
"I started with a gift-wrapped Mooch!" Garrett crossed his arms. "The bad news is we don't have any clear picture of this guy, he’s not on any camera, and there weren't any fingerprints on the syringe. I didn't expect there to be. This was a much more sophisticated hit. They got what they didn't pay for with Mikey Gibbs. This time, they went professional."
"What about the trail from the hospital?" I asked. "Where did he go?"
"Beats me. No one saw him beyond you two. There weren't any cameras over that section of the parking lot except for one that was apparently busted a week ago. Too far back for this guy to be responsible unless he conducts regular hits at Montgomery General. Before you ask, I don't think he's a regular."
"So, he's somewhere in the wind?" I asked.
Garrett nodded. "Yeah, but we'll find him."
"What's the word on Solomon?" I asked. "I don't have my phone and I can't contact anyone."
"I think you should keep it that way. It's best if you and Maddox both stay out of sight until we catch this guy. If he thinks either of you saw him, you could be the next targets. I'm concerned enough about getting you down to the station."
"I can't do that. I need to get to the hospital."
"So I have to worry about this guy whacking you too? No!"
"I can't not go! I'll be with the agency guys. They'll look after me."
Garrett snorted but was too polite to point out they didn't do a great job last night. Instead, he looked at Maddox. "What do you think?" he asked.
"She's right," said Maddox. "Maybe it will be better to guard them both together. Saves splitting the manpower."
"I'll think about it," said Garrett. "Let's take a crack at Mooch first. He's the best lead we have at finding out who's in charge. Come on through. Damien is already there waiting for you."
Garrett let us into the same room we occupied yesterday. Damien walked over to greet us and surprised me with a warm hug. "I was told you were okay but I didn't believe it until now," he said, stepping back to take a better look at me. He took in the tear on my jacket and I told him it was a near miss. "I am so glad you're not hurt. Solomon would never forgive me if anything happened to you."
"I'm okay," I told him. "I really am. We just had to lie low for a while."
"I got to the hospital and it was in lockdown," continued Damien. "Anastasia freaked out. We thought one of you had been shot then when we got to my brother's room, and heard what happened... Lexi, I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do, tell me. Maybe get you a hotel room or I can take you to your parents? I'd like to go on record as the liaison working between the agency and the police. You shouldn't have to deal with all that right now."
"I'm not sure yet about any of that but I really appreciate your offer." I turned to the two-way mirror, noticing the big man on the other side for the first time. He had a wide, sloping forehead, a nose that was bent out of shape, and a big jaw. He yawned, revealing several missing teeth. The rest of him looked a little better, although he must have weighed four hundred pounds and his clothes seemed to have missed laundry day by several weeks. His denim vest was a beat-up collection of hand sewn badges. Despite wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, I couldn't see an inch of skin. His arms, hands and fingers were all tattooed along with his neck, right up to his chin. I was pretty sure they weren't the marks of Boy Scout achievements. "Is that him?" I asked.
Damien turned. "Mooch? Yeah."
"I remember him from my time on the force. The name wasn't familiar but the face is. What's left of it," said Maddox, taking a step closer. "I think I busted him a couple times. Nasty piece of work. Never figured him for something like this."
"He's just been sitting there for the last twenty minutes. Barely moved except to yawn," said Damien.
Garrett stepped into the room with a thick folder. I wondered if he planned on repeating the "what's in the envelope" game that worked so well with Mikey, or if he had a new tactic.
"Timothy Mooch," said Garrett.
"Timothy?" repeated Damien softly.
"Tiny Tim?" I suggested.
"I can see why he likes to be called Mooch," said Maddox before we all fell silent.
"What of it?" said Mooch.
"Well, Timothy," began Garrett. "You've been arrested on a charge of solicitation of a hit man. Why don't you tell me about that?"
"I don't know anything about it."
"We have a witness that claims you hired him to kill another man."
"Yeah. Who's that?"
"The man you hired, or the man you wanted dead?"
"Both, since I never heard of this before now."
"You can cut the crap, Timothy. You promised two thousand dollars for the death of John Solomon. Why did you want him dead?"
"I don't want him dead," said Mooch. "If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead."
"So you admit to hiring a man to hurt him?"
"Um, no."
"Did Mr. Solomon interrupt some business of yours? Piss you off in some way? Hit on your girl?"
"The only person hitting on my girl is me," said Mooch, thumbing his own chest.
"Lucky girl," I said.
"She must be so pleased with a catch like you," said Garrett dryly. "So if it's not personal, then it's business? You have a nice, little thing going with your club, don't you? Lots of new business. Do you want to know what we found in your house?"
"You've got no business going to my house!"
"A judge told us we did. We found fifty thousand dollars under a floorboard in your bathroom sealed in waterproof pouches along with a couple kilos of heroin. Using waterproof baggies was smart. Everything was preserved so nicely for us."
"Who says it's mine?"
"You're the only one who lives there," pointed out Garrett. "Any judge is going to look at that and say yep, Timothy Mooch has enough money to pay a hit man. Did it ever occur to you that you get what you pay for, hmm?"
"It was that little snitch Mikey Gibb, wasn't it? He set me up," growled Mooch. He slammed his fist on the table and one of the legs buckled. Garrett didn't move a muscle. "I'm gonna turn him into finely ground meatloaf."
"Glad you brought up Mikey. We're currently putting together a nice, little deal for Mikey. He's not going to do a whole lot of time in prison. In fact, he'll probably get out in just a few years for a reduced charge of aggravated assault. You want to know how he's getting his sentence reduced?"
"How?" asked Mooch.
Garrett pointed a finger at Mooch's chest. "He's going to sell you out. He's going to tell the DA how you hired him, and offered him the deal, and gave him the gun, and what you promised to pay him. He's even got a nice piece of notepaper with John Solomon's address, one that you wrote and an interesting statement about how you sent him there to kill a couple."
"A couple?"
"The two people in the house. A double murder charge, Mooch."
"If there was someone else, that's nothing to do with me! I didn't tell him about anyone else, just the... Shit!" Mooch trailed off.
"So there wasn't a hit on the woman?"
Mooch folded his arms and looked over Garrett's head.
"Here's the thing," said Garrett. "You know and I know that I can make this stick. We both know Mikey will have no problem selling you down the river, and you know what else Mikey is going to do? He's going to see about getting no jail time whatsoever if he decides to enter the witness protection program. He'll get cleaned up and get to live a nice, little life far away from here, a place where you will never find him, which sure beats you finding him and us never finding his parts. And you know what else? I think I'm going to encourage him to take a deal like that. There're a couple things you can do now. You can refuse to cooperate, and you go to jail on your two feet and come out lying in a box. Or, if you're the middleman, you can sell out whoever is above you and we can start looking at a reduced sentence for you too. You've got no way out and just a couple ways forward. What's your call?"
I held my breath, waiting for what Mooch would say. I was afraid he would say nothing at all.
"I'm just the middleman," said Mooch. "I set up Mikey to deliver a warning, but only on the Solomon dude. I didn't say anything about a woman. Maybe she got in the way. Mikey's an idiot."
"Who put you up to it?"
Mooch shook his head. "It ain't worth my life to say."
"This got something to do with your gang? The Niners?"
Mooch shrugged.
"We know someone's shipping heroin into Montgomery and after the money we found in your house, I'm guessing it's the Niners. What did Solomon do? Interrupt the supply line? Piss off the boss?"
"Naw," said Mooch. "This is the first I ever heard of him."
"So what did he do to deserve getting shot?"
"It was warning," said Mooch. "That's all I know."
"To the woman?"
"I don't know anything about a woman."
"Someone came after Solomon again last night," said Garrett. "One of your people?"
"I don't know anything about that."
"Who is supposed to be warned by this shooting? Who's the warning for?"
"All I know is someone owes a lot of money and if they don't pay up, they're gonna see a lot more people paying instead; and eventually, someone's gonna wind up dead. Now, I want a lawyer."
Next to me, Maddox said, "Should have asked for that fifteen minutes ago."
"He's going down for this," said Damien. His hands curled into fists. "That's two down."
"And how many more to go?" I wondered.