Page 27 of Shadow's Surrender
Chapter Six
The room reekedof cleaning products despite thewhirringfrom the iron fan set on top of the filing cabinets. Shadow sat on a faux leather chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, and watched the second hand of the wall clock.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Detective McCue said, then sank down into the chair behind the desk. “It’s been crazy all day today. It must be the weather. Heat makes people angry and on edge.” He picked up a scratched-up decanter and poured some water into a coffee mug. “You want something to drink?”
Shadow shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is my mom’s case still open?”
McCue grabbed a wad of tissues and mopped his forehead and neck, then threw it in the trash can. “It’s so damn hot in here.”
“Is it open or what?” Shadow straightened up and leaned forward. “What the fuck are you”—he waved his hand—“or this damn department doing about finding the sonofabitch who murdered my mother?”
The detective took a gulp of water then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s still open, but not active. We got our hands full here and we haven’t gotten a new lead in over a year.”
“Is the rich bastard paying someone off?” Shadow narrowed his eyes. “Maybeyou?”
“No one’s paying me shit. I thought you and I had come to an understanding over all these years.”
“Find the rich fucker she was dating and you’ve got your killer. It’s so damn simple.”
McCue sighed and fixed his gaze on Shadow’s. “I don’t know if he’s who killed her and neither do you. We’ve had a lot of crazies in Pinewood. Just a while back we had that nutcase who was stalking women on that dating app.” He splayed his hands on the desk. “Look, I know how hard this is for you. I wish I could tell you that we’ll find whoever did this, but I can’t. All I can tell you is that I’ll keep working the case until I retire. A lot of cold cases get solved, more than you think.”
“There’re only three in the county and you fuckin’ badges haven’t solved any of them.”
Shadow jumped to his feet and stormed out, blocking out whatever it was McCue was saying.
A tornado of rage swirled around inside him, and he kicked the front of the building. “Fuckin’ assholes!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the brickwork with a painful force.
Blood trickled down his hand and dripped onto the pavement. He leaned against the wall, glaring at the people passing by. Pulsating and throbbing anger mixed with guilt.I should’ve been home that night. I could’ve stopped the fuckin’ bastard.The memories were always there, as if lying in wait.
After several minutes, he stalked over to his bike and hopped on. A fast ride would calm him down—it usually did. The motorcycle roared to life, and he revved the engine to the maximum and sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes and deafening noise.
* * *
One evening thefollowing week when Smokey entered the clubhouse, Shadow lifted his chin and saw the way his buddy glared at him. He didn’t blame Smokey one bit for being mad as hell at him. That day, he’d dropped the ball and never showed up to work on the damn tennis house.
“What the fuck?” Smokey said when he came over to the table. “Where the hell were you today, asshole?” He gripped the top of a chair and pushed it hard. It toppled over and Smokey kicked it aside, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth.
“I fucked up, man. Sorry,” Shadow said as he picked up his beer bottle and took a long drink.
“Sorry? That shit doesn’t cut it. If you don’t want the job, man the fuck up and tell me, but don’t pull pussy bullshit on me. If you were any of the other workers, I’d throw your ass out.”
Shadow didn’t respond. He just sat there drinking his beer, pissed at himself that he let a brother down because he couldn’t get his shit together. The truth was that for the past several days, he and Scarlett had been going at it whenever they could: during his lunch break, in the guest house after work, even a couple of times in the kitchen when her bitchy mom wasn’t around. A headache inched its way up his neck and he pressed his thumbs against his temples.
“So, do you want the fuckin’ job or not?” Smokey’s voice sliced into his thoughts.
Shadow looked up and nodded.
“Then take this as your one and only chance. Next time you pull that shit, you’re out.” He kicked the fallen chair, then stomped over to Charlotte and yanked her to him.
Shadow turned away and rested his elbows on his knees then placed his throbbing head in his hands. He had to stay away from Scarlett. She was doing shit to him that he didn’t understand or want. Each time he pushed inside her, inch by inch, he became more mesmerized by her. For some damn reason, the intensity of being withherjolted his senses like a power surge; he was hooked and it fucking pissed him off.
There was a scrape of chair legs across the floor.
“Did Smokey kick your ass?” Rags asked.
Shadow raised his head just as the biker plopped down.
“He was so fuckin’ pissed at you. He came in during the day looking for you.”
