Charly was floored. She could hardly believe it. “Tabloski?” she asked.
Boone looked at her, then he looked back at Porch.
Porch was nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s it. Tabloski. Some big, ugly, white dude. Kind of look like you, chief,” he added, and his crew laughed.
But Boone couldn’t care less about an insult. He was too busy staring at Charly. “That’s the guy?” he asked her.
She nodded her head. “That’s his name. But he died in prison. Unless it’s his son or somebody related to him, like you said earlier.”
Boone was nodding too. “That’s what it has to be,” he said. Then he looked at Porch. “Did he have a first name?”
“I’m sure he did, but I never heard it.”
“When did you talk to him?” he asked.
“Just after she got in town,” said Porch, motioning toward Charly.
That surprised both Boone and Charly. “Did he come here to this complex to talk to you?”
“No.”
“Where did this conversation take place?”
“Some guy I know hooked us up.”
“What guy?”
“I’m not telling you that,” Porch said defiantly.
“What did your friend tell you?” Boone asked.
“He told me that this guy was asking questions about one of my neighbors and would be willing to pay me good money if I answered a few of his questions. So I met him in the parking lot at Walmart, and answered his questions.”
“I thought you said you didn’t answer his questions,” said Boone, catching him in a lie. “I thought you said it wasn’t your fight.”
“It’s not. But the money was right. I answered his questions.”
Boone turned around. When he saw one of his uniforms staring his way, he motioned him to come over. The young officer ran over.
“Yes, sir, Chief?” he asked.
“Cuff him, frisk him, and haul him to the station,” Boone said.
“You gonna arrest me anyway?” Porch asked. “But I cooperated!”
“And you’re going to continue to cooperate downtown,” Boone said. Then he looked at the cop. “Let him go through every mug book we have. He needs to identify a guy named Tabloski. You run a check on that name too.”
“Yes, sir. Then let him go, sir?”
“Not a chance,” Boone said.
Porch was shocked. “Why not?”
“When you give me the name of the guy who put you in touch with Tabloski, then you can go. If not, you’ll be held for obstructing a police investigation. For withholding vital information.”
It was all bull and Porch and his crew knew it. Charly knew it, too. But Boone ran that town.
But she also knew where Boone was coming from. This was a matter of life and death. Porch needed to give them that name of his friend so they could get more information on Tabloski. Besides, she was still too shaken by what happened at her place, and by the fact that the horrors of her past seemed to be catching up with the horrors of her present, to be worrying about Porch’s well-being and safety. He had information to give. He needed to come clean. Her life just might depend on it.
That was why, when Boone said, “let’s go,” she didn’t hesitate. She needed to be with him as much as he wanted her to be with him.
She got in his Ferrari, and they drove away.
Ready or not, here we go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
And man, Charly thought, did he drive. He didn’t slow down until they were turning onto a long, winding driveway that led up to what looked like to her to be nothing short of a mansion. A very beautiful, colonial-style mansion. She looked at Boone.
“What is this?” she asked him.
“My house,” Boone said as he slowly drove further up the winding driveway.
But Charly was stunned. “Your house? What do you mean? You live here?”
Boone smiled. He knew she would be surprised. As far as she knew, he was just a cop. “That’s right,” he said. “I live here.”
“With your family?” she asked.
There was a hesitation in Boone. He used to want a family, but after Courtney’s death that seemed like an impossible dream. “No,” he said. “Just me.”
“And you own it?”
“That’s right,” Boone said and looked at her. “That’s alright, isn’t it?”
Charly didn’t know what to say to that. Because, honestly, she wasn’t sure if it was. She leaned back and looked at the massive home again. Not too much intimidated her. When she was married to Darryl she lived in a nice house too. But it wasn’t a mansion! She’d never been driven around by a man who owned a mansion. And it was intimidating. She either had a very crooked cop on her hands, or a very wealthy one.
“That’s alright, isn’t it?” he asked her again.
“Depends,” she finally responded.
“On what?”
“How it was obtained,” Charly said, and then looked at Ryan.
Ryan nodded. He liked that she questioned it. Not one of his other women ever had because they didn’t give a damn. They just loved that he had it going on like that. But Charly, as usual, he thought, was different. “It was legally obtained,” he assured her. “I told you I was a successful businessman.”
“What was your business, I guess I should have asked?”
“Oil,” Ryan said.
That surprised Charly. “You were an oil man?”
“I went to Texas, made my fortune, and then took the money and ran. But don’t worry, dear,” he said to Charly, patting her hand, “I despise crooked cops.”
Charly smiled. “As do I,” she said, reassured. Not just by his words, but by the fact that his hand remained on hers. “I can’t see how a cop named after Daniel Boone would be crooked anyway,” she added, and Boone laughed.
Charly also couldn’t see how a man who would come to her rescue in the middle of the night simply because he felt she was in danger, could be either.
Boone stopped his car at the top of the driveway, got out, and walked around to the passenger side. When he helped Charly out, he immediately placed his hand around her waist, as if he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. She also noticed that he was looking around, as if he wanted to make sure whoever had gunned for her hadn’t followed them to his place.
They walked together to the trunk of his car, pulled out her suitcase, and then, with his hand still on her back, made their way across the sidewalk and into his big, stained-glass double doors. He remotely disarmed his home with a key fob, and then closed the door behind them.
But oddly to Charly, as soon as that door closed, and he remained beside her, she felt safer. And it was a unique kind of safe too. As if she was finally at home, or something akin to that kind of place. It was the strangest feeling.
“This way,” Boone said, and began walking her up the sweeping staircase.
“It’s very grand,” Charly said as they walked.
“Are you trying to say I’m not?” Boone asked.
“Oh, no, I’m not trying to say it. I am saying it,” Charly said definitively and Boone laughed. She also noticed, as he was laughing, that he squeezed her too.