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“Who the fuck is this? Detective McCrae? Is this you?” The caller disconnected the call. It had to be McCrae since those two had been adjoined at the hip since we left Tehachapi. The phone rang again. “Sherman? What kind of sick game are you playing, man? This isn’t funny anymore.”
“It wasn’t meant to be funny, Levi Shields.” The young lady told me. “I will text you the address, only because Sherman asked me to. He said someone very special is there waiting for you. Don’t worry—it’s not the cops.” The call disconnected once more and as promised, the address appeared via text seconds later. Now the question of the hour was, who in the hell was the chick on the other end?
***
FRANKLIN
I promised Levi he had a very special person waiting for him at the vineyard. I couldn’t wait to see this beast finally brought down for being the revolting creature he was.
Do men like him aspire to be villains when they are children? That is the million-dollar question. Because no number of excuses will convince me the real reason one becomes so bad. I think most villains are born with the mindset to do evil things to innocent beings. Evil children tend to torture poor, defenseless animals and rip off a butterfly’s wings for the pure joy of it, among a list of other horrible acts of monstrosity. I’ve told this to the devil, Amon, and he begged to differ, which led to a half day long debate about what makes a person turn so bad? He said with Levi Shields, events in his life led to the indifferent and dangerous stance. Of course, the devil is going to give a monster the benefit of the doubt. He can have Levi: we don’t want him to wreak havoc with the angels.
On the other hand, Jensen Grimes was never bad, even when he was undercover with the Chrome Poppies, he never followed suit or complied with any of Levi’s demands. Jensen was dead set against breaking the law because he was an enforcer of the law, though he had to keep it to himself, or he would have been dead a long time ago.
Ezekiel only gave him the ultimatum to save Emilie because Amon had a boner to get Grimes down in hell. It wasn’t like Jensen was prized pig or something. I bet it had to do with what a good heart Jensen Grimes had, and Amon saw that as a sign of weakness. Psh, weak my booty! It takes a stronger man to be good and appreciate life and the lives of others. If you look up the word weak in the dictionary, Levi Shields face would be plastered on that page in bright colors.
“Why did you call on Amon?” Ezekiel asked me as he came out of the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his mid-section. I had no idea he left to go take a shower, ah, magic, it’s a strange, wonderful thing at times. Either it’s magic or he’s like a ninja angel.
“Because I don’t think Jensen should shoot him. Which is the only rule of yours he broke, but I don’t see him pulling the trigger. He lost so much. We don’t want him to lose his last bit of humanity or his ticket to heaven, do we?” Zeke agreed and nodded. I couldn’t help but gaze at his cut body. A nerdy angel with a six-pack? That’s unheard of but intriguing just the same.
“Quit looking at me like that, you vixen!” He teased as he snapped his fingers to change into something more appropriate.
“You’ve been working out, haven’t you?” I flirted but learned I was failing miserably when he lightly shoved me aside to begin with acting like a voyeur. “Anyway. Amon predicts Levi should pull up to what he believes will be the Weatherly Vineyard in about an hour. Which gives me time to make certain Jensen completes the mission and throws his emotions away when it’s time to say goodbye to that precious little girl.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
JENSEN
When we arrived at the vineyard nestled between two other vineyards, I stopped the bike and signaled for Braeden to do the same. I glanced over to see Emilie’s body contorted, fast asleep. I swear this child could sleep through a missile launch and I didn’t want to disturb her, but I had no choice. We were at the final destination, safely. There was no sign of Levi Shields or the rest of the Chrome Poppies or even Lawrence and his partner for that matter.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Braeden,” I quietly told him so as not to alarm Emilie.
Braeden climbed off his bike and removed his helmet as he approached me, though looking toward the property. “Why? Do you think the Chrome Poppies are waiting for us at the end of the fruit path?” He hit the nail on the head, and I simply nodded. “You’re dead, man. So, you don’t need to worry about these Poppies putting you to sleep.” He chuckled at his reference to The Wizard of Oz, yet it wasn’t funny.
“I’m not so concerned for myself. It’s Emilie I worry about.” I looked up, knowing Franklin and Ezekiel were playing voyeurs. “Will the Weatherlys see me or some woman?”
“They won’t see you, Jensen.” Franklin’s ears must have been burning as I heard her voice coming up behind me. When I turned, she was dressed exactly like me. The same cowboy hat I wore when I wasn’t riding. The same duster jacket I never removed until at night in the hotel. “There’re only been a handful who see Jensen Grimes—Emilie, Braeden, and Detective McCrae. Everyone else has seen me,” she danced around with outstretched arms. “Dressed like you, but I look better—less rugged, if you know what I’m saying.”
I grinned at Franklin and jokingly asked, “Does this mean I get my wings now?”
Franklin shrugged and a warm grin appeared on her adorable face, “We are in front of the Weatherly Vineyard. But I fear we’re not in the clear yet. Levi and his lemmings aren’t too far behind you.”
She stopped talking and burst out laughing. I asked with confusion, “What’s so damned funny?” Emilie’s moaning distracted us from the conversation and it more than likely wasn’t a good idea for her to hear the discussion, anyway.
Emilie sat up quickly and her eyes followed the archway with the name Weatherly Estate in between two weathervanes. “We’re here?” She asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Her already gigantic eyes widened even more. “Where’s their house?” Emilie turned her head and started at Franklin. “Who are you?” She scrutinized the woman who moved next to the sidecar. “Why are you dressed like Jensen?”
Franklin crouched down, “My name is Franklin.”
“You’re a girl. Franklin is a boy’s name.” Out of the mouth of a babe, and only Emilie would be so bold to point that out.
Franklin stroked Emilie’s hair and swiped thick, espresso tendrils behind one of her ears. She smiled and answered the inquisitive child’s question. “I was named after my daddy. But I’ve been watching over you and Jensen during the entire trip. Are you ready to see your new home?”
Emilie vigorously shook her head, “No, I’m going to live with Jensen in Heaven.”
Franklin glared at me, “What ideas are you putting in this child’s head, Jensen?”
Holding up a tiny hand, Emilie answered, “Miss Franklin? I know he’s an angel. I saw him die when that mean man shot him. I bet you and Braeden are angels too. Because I can see angels. Is that because I’m an angel? Or is it because I’m a freak like Selena used to call me all the time?”
I couldn’t stifle the chuckle. “Emilie, in a way, I think we’re all freaks. Franklin? Ride with Braeden. The sooner we rip off the Band-Aid, the easier the farewell.” No sooner had a said it than I heard Emilie sniffling. Her eyes were red from the newly formed tears that fell onto her cheeks. “Em?” I said gently, and she turned slowly to face me. “Even if I’m not physically with you after today, remember—I will always watch you for the rest of your life.”
