Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 by Lori G. Armstrong Page A

things.”
    “Who the fuck is Jericho?”
    Was that jealousy in his eyes? “My surprise nephew.
    Ben’s son. I didn’t know about him until his mother showed up here two days ago. Evidently she was pregnant with him when Ben was murdered.”
    “You sure he’s Ben’s kid?”
    “Jericho looks exactly like him.”
    Martinez rested his forehead against mine. “Jesus Christ. I cannot fucking believe the shit that happens to you. What else?”
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    “I saw a man die right in front of me while Kevin and I were on surveillance.”
    He fl inched. Subtly, but I felt it. In a show of re-assurance I let my hands drift up and down the tensed muscles in his naked back.
    “You should’ve called me.”
    “What could you have done?”
    His body stiff ened and he pushed himself away.
    Maybe it’d been a smarmy response, but I couldn’t help the annoyed, “What?” as I perversely scooted closer to him.
    Martinez palmed my head and coiled a hank of hair around his index fi nger. “Sorry. I’ve been a little on edge lately.”
    “Do ya think?”
    “Smart ass.”
    “Can I ask you something?”
    “Sure. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
    My, my, wasn’t he paranoid today. “Why don’t you talk about your kids?”
    His eyes fl ashed.
    I’d shocked him. Good.
    “Where in the hell did that come from?”
    “After Jericho showed up, I remembered the fi rst time we met in Dusty’s, you’d talked about your ex-wife bleeding you dry on child support.” I locked my gaze to 68

    his. “Since we’re . . . involved, I deserve to know if any Tony Juniors are running around.”
    He stared at me for the longest time. “Not kids.
    Kid. I’ve got a fourteen-year-old son.”
    “You ever see him?”
    “Not since he was two.”
    “Why not?”
    “His mother felt my lifestyle wasn’t an appropriate environment to raise a child in.”
    A strange band of jealousy tightened my gut. “Didn’t she know about the Hombres before you got married?”
    “Yes.”
    Silence.
    Jesus. He was gonna make me fucking drag this out of him. “ And ?”
    Martinez sighed. “And, one night our house was raided by the cops because of my position in the club.
    She took the boy and left Colorado the next day. Now we only communicate through our attorneys.”
    “What’s your son’s name?”
    “Alejandro.”
    “Do you ever wish—?”
    “No,” he said curtly, which meant end of discussion.
    A calculating look returned to his eyes. “Why the questions all of a sudden, blondie?”
    “Trying to piss you off , naturally.”
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    Th
    en he gifted me with that lethal smile that made my insides do the cha-cha. He traced my lips with the pad of his thumb. “I can’t believe I missed your smart mouth.”
    I angled my head to kiss the inside of his wrist. “Is that why you’re pissed off ? You didn’t want to miss me?”
    “Maybe.” He sighed again. “Anything else you wanna talk about?”
    “Nah. I’d rather try to take that edge off you instead.” I trailed my mouth over his smooth chest and down his abdomen. Lingered on the scorpion tattoo below his belly button.
    “You trying to distract me with sex?”
    “Mmm-hmm. Makeup sex is always hot. Is it working?”
    “For now.”
    “Good.”
    “Maybe you really did miss me,” he murmured, and it was a long time before he said anything else.
    M M M
    Another workweek dawned. Mondays were always busy and I welcomed the distraction from obsessing over Martinez returning to town. Or obsessing that I hadn’t heard from Abita. Obsessing that I’d seen my seventh dead body in so many months.
    I’d just cracked my mid-morning Diet Pepsi when 70

    the door to my offi
    ce opened and shut softly.
    Th
    at gave me pause. Kim usually left it open, hoping the scent of Shalimar and her throaty southern laughter would draw Kevin in. It usually did. I closed the document fi le and revolved my offi
    ce chair.
    Holy shit. Instead of the totally put together woman I admired, Kim was a disaster. She wore ratty