One Hot Mess Part 4

Yanking my shirt over my head, I jumped off the counter, pulled my shorts out from under his foot, and actually considered biting his ankle on the way up. "How would I know?"

"He didn't-"

But suddenly the back door squeaked. I gasped even before he called my name again. "Christina, are you here?"

Rivera jerked toward the door, pushing me behind him as he did so. I was pulling on my shorts and swearing and panting all at the same time. I'm a real humdinger at mult.i.tasking.

"I do not mean to bother you." I could hear his footsteps in my living room. "But-" He stepped into the kitchen just as Rivera Junior pulled on his shirt. I threw my underwear in the nearest drawer, zipped my fly and jerked my head up just in time to see their gazes clash.

"Gerald!"

"Senator."

There was a moment of hot silence, then: "I am sorry. Christina's door was left unlocked. I worried that something was amiss," said the elder of the two.

As for me, I was peering past Riveras arm like a tipsy c.o.c.katiel.

"That why you came by?" he asked.

They stared at each other. "As far as I am aware, there is no law against me visiting a friend."

Rivera glanced back at me. "You two buddies now, are you?"

I stepped out beside him, cleared my throat, and resisted checking myself to make certain my garments were firmly in their allotted positions. "h.e.l.lo, Senator."

"Good evening, Christina." He gave me a stately nod. "I am sorry to disturb you. As I said, I worried that your door was unsecured and thought I had best check on your well-being."

"Oh." I wondered a little dimly if it was possible for a face to burn right off its head. "That was very thoughtful of you, Senator."

He made a dismissive motion with his hand. "It was nothing. I was in the neighborhood, after all."

"Really? Well, it's so nice of you to worry on my account, but as you can see, your son was kind enough to-"

"Cut the c.r.a.p!" Rivera snarled. "What the h.e.l.l's going on here?"

I shifted my eyes from one to the other, a million thoughts cruising drunkenly through my hormone-washed head. I didn't want to cause more problems between them by blurting out the senators earlier proposition to me. Neither did I want to break a trust with the older Rivera, and I wasn't all that crazy about the idea of admitting that I had agreed to horn in on a situation that some might consider the business of the police department. "Nothing's going on," I said. "Your dad just stopped by to-"

"You sniffing after her, too?" Rivera asked, turning to his father. "That what this is about?"

The senator's back stiffened. "I'll not have you using that profane-"

"Wasn't Rachel enough? How 'bout Salina? h.e.l.l, you got her killed. I would think that would just about-"

"You blame me for her death?" The senator's voice was deadly low.

Rivera laughed. The sound was coa.r.s.e and nasty. "She sure as h.e.l.l wasn't my fiancee anymore, was she?"

"Still looking for others to blame, aren't you, Gerald? It is so like you to be unable-"

But suddenly Rivera launched forward, grabbed his father by the lapels of his blazer, and thrust him up against the wall. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

They glared at each other, eyes spitting, lips snarling.

"My whereabouts are none of your concern," rasped the senator.

"They are if you're in this d.a.m.n house."

"I believe Christina can decide which of us-"

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake!" I said, stepping forward and grabbing Rivera's fist. He had a death grip on his father's coat, but adrenaline or just plain p.i.s.siness made it possible for me to pull his hand away. "He just came by to ask me for a favor."

"Christina!" hissed the senator, but I ignored him.

"Yeah?" Riveras mouth jerked. "Is this the kind of favor where clothing is optional?"

"What are you?" I asked. "Twelve? He wants to talk."

A muscle jumped in his cheek. "About what?"

I faltered.

"We have a mutual friend," said the senator, and smoothed his jacket into place. "I but came to inform Christina of her condition."

"Really." Rivera didn't turn toward his father but kept his whiskey-burn gaze on me. "What friend is that?"

My lips moved. My mind was absolutely immobile.

"I do not think that is any concern of-" the senator began, but Rivera interrupted again.

"What's her name?"

The image of a dismembered corpse flashed through my mind. "Kathleen," I said.

"Kathleen what?"

"Cahill," lied the senator.

"What's wrong with her?" Rivera asked.

"I have sworn to keep her condition quiet so that she is not bothered by those-"

"What's wrong with her?" Rivera asked again, and turned his glare on his father.

The elder man lifted his chin with arrogant defiance. "If you must know... the young lady is with child."

"Yeah?" Rivera smirked. "You gonna be a daddy again, Senator?"

"She is the daughter of a dear friend who has-"

"So was Salina. It didn't stop you then."

Silence plowed into the room, then: "Still bitter that you cannot keep a woman for yourself, Gerald?"

"You G.o.dd.a.m.n b.a.s.t.a.r.d," snarled Rivera.

"Stop it," I said, and grabbed his arm, but maybe I was trying to restrain the wrong Rivera.

"Are you so weak that you cannot accept a little compet.i.tion?" asked the senator.

Riveras lips twisted into a grin, brows lowered over deadly eyes. "You want compet.i.tion, old man, let's-"

But at that moment I pulled a plate from the sink and slammed it against the counter. It crashed into a hundred satisfying shards.

The jerks jerked toward me in unison.

"What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you two?" I gritted, and slammed my gaze from one to the other.

"He-"

"He-"

"Shut up!" I ordered, stabbing a finger somewhere between them.

The senator recovered first. "I apologize for my son," he began. "I see he has not yet learned-"

"We don't have a mutual friend," I said, and turned my gaze from the older to the younger Rivera. Usually, runaway honesty isn't a problem with me, but the blatant lies of father to son had frayed my nerves. "The senator has asked me to investigate a death."

Rivera's brows jerked into his hairline. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"Just informally, of course. He thought the police department might be too-"

"What death?"

"That's not the point here," I said, tone calculated to soothe the wild beast. "It simply-"

"What f.u.c.king death?" Rivera growled.

I straightened my back. "Kathleen Baltimore's. But I believe her death took place well out of your jurisdiction."

He stared at me a second, then threw back his head and laughed. "Jesus, McMullen, who do you think you are? Columbo?"

"No." I may have mentioned before that I hate to be laughed at. But being laughed at by a braying clod like Rivera makes my blood hurt. "I realize-"

"You're lucky to still be breathing after that last fiasco."

"Well..." I could feel my temper rising toward the boiling point, but I diluted it with common sense. Two irate idiots were enough in one kitchen. "Thank you for your profound-"

"You d.a.m.n well better thank me. I've saved your a.s.s more times than a f.u.c.king firefighter."

"I don't think it proper that you speak to a lady in that tone," said the senator.

"And you!" Rivera rounded on his dad with a sharp snort. "What the h.e.l.l are you thinking? You got some hot deal cooking? Maybe one of your a.s.shole friends offed another of your a.s.shole friends and you want to know what's what? Decided McMullen here is expendable?"

"A woman has died," the senator said, tone stiff and holier than h.e.l.l. "I did not know her, but I feel in my heart that it was not-"

"Heart!" Rivera laughed again. The sound was about as pleasant as the rumble of a road grader. "You don't have a f.u.c.king heart."

"Rivera," I said, but he turned toward me, spewing vitriol.

"So you were willing to lie for him, too, huh?"

Emotion was splashed across his face like acid-anger and hate, but there was more. There was hurt, injured hope.

"I didn't lie," I said, voice quiet.

"So you had no idea why he might be stopping by."

It had been such a small lie. The littlest fabrication, engineered to keep him calm. I opened my mouth, perhaps to say something to that effect, but maybe my lips knew better than to spout something so asinine.

He stared at me for an eternity, then he turned away.

"Rivera," I said, but he just kept walking, through my foyer and out of my life.

4.

You're gonna sit down. You're gonna shut up. And by the grace of G.o.d Almighty, I ain't gonna kill you.

-Esse Goldenstone,

upon discovering a pack of.

Camels in her grandson's.

backpack.