The Alvarez & Pescoli Series. Lisa Jackson

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      Well, that was a start.

      She hit the button of the garage door opener and drove into the small space. Less than a minute later, the door was grinding down and she was stepping into the house, where Cisco was going out of his mind and the smell of microwave pizza permeated the kitchen. Jeremy’s tools of the trade—pizza cutter, plate, over-sized Big Gulp cup and the box the frozen pizza came in—were scattered over a counter amid tomato sauce smudges.

      “Hey! Jer! Come up here!” she yelled down the stairs as Cisco demanded attention, jumping onto the couch and ottoman. He yipped until she unzipped her coat and petted his wriggling, scruffy body. “Yeah, yeah, I love you, too,” she said, her voice an octave higher than usual. “Yes, I do.” She turned off the television and plugged in the Christmas tree, noting the scraggly thing needed more water. “Jeremy!” she called again as she walked to the kitchen, tossed his mess into the sink and filled a glass measuring cup with water. It took two trips to fill the tree’s basin and she ignored the fact that there wasn’t a single package under its limbs. This was the weekend she had planned to go shopping in Missoula, but between the storms and ongoing investigations, she’d probably have to resort to Plan B, whatever the hell that was.

      Since there was no sound from the basement, she headed down the stairs to Jeremy’s room. Cisco shot ahead of her, nearly tripping her. She found her son asleep on his bed, earbuds from his iPod jammed into his ears. Even so, she heard a thin stream of music. The kid seemed determined to make himself deaf by the time he was thirty. Geez, he could piss her off.

      She stood in the doorway and looked at him. On his back, slightly snoring, this big lug of a kid appeared at peace, and a lump filled the back of her throat when she remembered bringing him home from the hospital and being terrified of having a son when she’d grown up in a family of four girls, her father being so terribly outnumbered he’d finally left. Well, that probably hadn’t been the reason, but he’d taken off when Regan was eleven and had said something about not being able to live with “a house full of females.” That was when she’d understood that the reason her parents had so many children was because her dad had been dead-set on a boy. It hadn’t mattered that Regan, the baby, had excelled at sports. Her father never knew she had learned to shoot a rifle as well as a layup, or that she’d been such a tomboy she’d been called “gay” and “lesbo” from the time she knew what the terms meant.

      Considering her choices in men, she thought now, maybe she should have thought about swinging the other way. But that would have been impossible. The truth of the matter was, she liked men, was turned on by them, especially the sexy bad asses. Not the criminals. No, they were just plain losers. But the players…yeah, she had a fondness for them. Or, as she sometimes admitted, an addiction.

      Like Nate.

      How stupid was that? Yet she couldn’t wait to hook up with him.

      However, first things first. She stepped across the threshold into Jeremy’s room—a room that reeked of pizza and…something else? Oh damn, was the kid smoking weed? The smell was masked, but she was pretty certain she caught the scent of smoke and the musky sweet odor of marijuana.

      “Damn it,” she muttered. The kid needed a dad. Maybe that’s why she’d tried so hard for Jeremy to accept Lucky—so he’d have a father, a male role model, something she’d missed as a kid. Too bad she’d picked such a loser.

      She touched him on the toe. “Hey,” she said, then when he didn’t respond, gave his foot a shake hard enough to get his attention. He blinked his eyes open and all the peace she’d seen on his face seconds earlier disappeared.

      “What the fu—” He caught himself just in time, and scooting into a sitting position, pulled out the earbuds. “Geez, Mom, you scared the hell out of me!”

      “I thought we needed to talk.”

      He rolled his eyes. “You always think we need to talk.”

      “Why don’t you want to go to Lucky’s?” she asked, and when he opened his mouth, she held up her hand, palm out. “Give me a real reason.”

      His face was a cloud of frustration. “It’s boring there.”

      “Yes, yes, it’s boring here, too. And by the way, the next time you make yourself dinner, clean up.”

      “Oh God, Mom.”

      “Have you been smoking weed?”

      He started. “What the hell are you talking about?”

      “I smell it, Jer. Remember, I’m trained.”

      “Fuck!”

      “Watch the mouth.”

      “No, it’s not weed. Mom, I swear, I’ve never done any drugs. None.”

      She didn’t say a word because she wanted to believe him, but she worked for the sheriff’s department. She knew how prevalent everything from ecstasy to meth was. “You haven’t experimented?”

      “I’ve been where they have stuff, yeah, and don’t ask me who cuz I won’t tell you, but I haven’t used.”

      God, how she wanted to believe him. “So the weed I smell?”

      “A friend came over. I told him not to do it here. He left.” Jeremy narrowed angry eyes at her. “I won’t rat him out.”

      “I’m a cop.”

      “I don’t care.”

      Regan hesitated, then said, “Call Lucky, tell him what the deal is. I think he planned to take you and your sister Christmas shopping tomorrow.”

      Jeremy flopped back on his bed. “Save me.”

      “I know, a fate worse than death.”

      “Have you ever been to the mall with Michelle and Bianca?” He was shaking his head violently. “It takes forever. Nu-uh, I’m not doin’ it.”

      “Then call Lucky and straighten it out with him.” She was tired of arguing. “And figure out how you’re going to get your sister a present.”

      “Just Bianca?”

      “And your loving mother, of course.” She glanced at the picture of Joe on the shelf. “And Jer?”

      “Yeah?” He was already reaching for his phone.

      “Just for the record, I miss your dad, too.”

      “Then why do you go out with all those losers?”

      Oh Jesus. “I go out because he’s gone.”

      “And so you married Lucky?”

      “Well…yeah, I was in love with him.”

      “He’s not like Dad.”

      “No, you’re right, but he has his good qualities.” She held up a hand to cut off further discussion. “Let’s not get into trashing him, okay? He is what he is and what he is, is Bianca’s father СКАЧАТЬ