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First, Stevie was apoplectic about the state of the yard after bits of burning debris fell on it. He didn’t talk to me for a week. He was flying a lot during that time so maybe he wasn’t holding that much of a grudge and just didn’t have time to forgive me (I was going with that thought).
Second, Tex was a coffee hit. We were so busy, I had to do a quick hire. Her name was Jet, which I thought was a kickass rock ’n’ roll name, but she wasn’t exactly kickass and rock ’n’ roll. She was quiet. She was sweet. She was pretty. She made a mean latte, and the best part about her was, I could tell—hell, everyone could tell—she had a secret.
Third, Hank told me The Kevster was going to be okay. It was his first offense so he was likely to get community service. Rosie wouldn’t fare so well. He’d probably get a jail sentence. Rosie announced he was seriously moving to San Salvador after he got out. It wasn’t a joke or a drama. He was done with coffee, done with pot and wanted to be far, far away from Denver. I didn’t blame him. Denver had not been good to him, even if it was all his fault, but I would miss him.
Fourth, Terry Wilcox and his goons disappeared.
Poof.
Gone.
Lee explained some of this to me.
See, Marcus had a meet with the mob in New York City with the goal of explaining his, shall we say, frustration at Wilcox’s antics. Not only with the diamonds, but also with cutting into Marcus’s action. Wilcox’s Uncle Gino was already fed up with his nephew. Fed up with the constant cleanup and fed up with the headache. It didn’t take much for Marcus to talk Gino into intervening. It helped when Lee gave Gino a call and told him that Wilcox was not only pestering his girlfriend, but also that girlfriend was a cop’s daughter. Gino had enough headaches. He didn’t need the Denver Police Department getting interested. Gino decided to take care of Wilcox once and for all. This might have meant that Wilcox took that long vacation he planned. It also might have meant he was fish food.
I tried not to think about it. I really didn’t like Terry Wilcox, but I didn’t want him dead.
Incarcerated? Yes.
Out of my life? Absolutely.
Dead seemed kind of harsh, even for scary, creepy, icky Wilcox.
As for Wilcox’s goons, Gary, Teddy, The Moron and the Steroid Sidekicks, Lee told me they would no longer be a problem. I got the impression that this had to do with Lee and his badass army “having fun” as Vance put it, but I tried not to think about that either.
Last, no one ever found out that Eddie shot someone on my behalf such was the clean sweep of Uncle Gino.
Eddie and Lee had issues about this. Lee had told Darius that he and Marcus were working together to take care of Wilcox once and for all. Eddie was kept out of this deal. Eddie might be a maverick cop, but he still liked to work within the bounds of the law (when it suited him). Stepping aside for a mob cleanup was something he frowned on. With a bit of naked gratitude as incentive, Lee told me that Eddie and Lee had a chat with Darius playing intermediary. They worked it out, but I could tell it took a bit of effort.
That was it.
All that drama and then, in one day, it was over.
* * *
It wasa few weeks after the final showdown and life had gone back to normal. Normal, that was, with Lee coming home to sleep in my bed every night, which was a new, happy normal that I really, really liked.
Lee was a good roommate. He brought me coffee in the morning, he wasn’t in my hair all the time and he called to tell me when he was going to be late.
There were drawbacks, of course.
He threw the towel in the sink when he was done with it and thought that the words “floor” and “closet” were synonymous, but I was quietly working through these issues.
A girl could get through these things knowing that sometime during the night (or late morning, depending) the boy she’d loved since she was five was going to slide in bed beside her.
That, and there was also the fact that Judy, the housekeeper, also came with Lee moving in.
Ally and I were lying out in the sun on my balcony with melting spiced rum and diets, the phone and an egg timer, when we heard, “Yoo hoo!”
I lifted my torso up, looked through the balcony railing and down and saw Tod standing on the decking at the end of their yard.
“Hey,” I called.
“Drag Duty, Saturday night. You up for it?” Tod called back, shielding his eyes with his hand, Chowleena sitting by his feet.
“Sure.”
“Stevie’s on a flight that night, Ally. You doin’ backup?” Tod yelled.
