Guilty by Innocence Read online

  “Last meal you had was jail food and it would’ve been this morning, right?”

  Gabriel nodded, a small grin slipping across his face. “That’s right. El Paso does not starve inmates, but they don’t order out for chorizo y huevos either.”

  Caught by surprise by Gabriel’s unexpected flash of humor, Jax laughed. “Well, I do order out sometimes, but I can also cook. My mother saw to it a long time ago. I can whip up a mean breakfast burrito in short order. Come on into the kitchen. You can tell me what you remembered while I cook.”

  Gabriel sat on one of the chairs at the battered kitchen table while Jax rummaged for potatoes, bacon, onions, some Anaheim chilies, and a dozen eggs. While he chopped and fried, the younger man began his tale. When he was through, Jax turned and looked at him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded.

  “You believe me? You don’t think I am making this up, imagining things?”

  “I believe you. Your story is close enough to the one the other witness gave us. I have no doubt it’s true. I talked to her again after I spoke with you yesterday and between what you both told me, a lot of things are starting to come together. We have a tentative ID on the doer. Does the name Refugio Soliz ring any bells?”

  Gabriel’s eyes went wide and round. “Soliz? ¡Aye de mi! Oh yes, I know of him! I don’t think I ever saw him, but his name often comes up at Contreras’ place. Everyone trembles when they hear it—well, everyone except Contreras himself.”

  “We have reason to think he may be the one who did the butcher job there on Rincon Street. Probably the one who dragged you in with him and bashed you in the head. I suspect you were intended to take the fall for him, but he didn’t hit you quite right or got spooked and ran before he finished you off last.”

  Gabriel shook his head, a doleful expression washing over his face. “That’s not good. If I was scared before, I’m…terrified is too mild a word. I’m a dead man walking.”

  “I’m trying to set up some way to flush Soliz out. I know he does dirty work for Contreras and probably people even higher in the cartel. We’ve got Contreras pegged as a mid-level jefe, high enough to be protected, but not indispensable if he becomes a liability. So it comes down to how valuable Soliz is to him and others. I’m going to give it my best shot to get the man and see if we can get him to flip on those higher up the food chain.”

  Gabriel did not look reassured. “These men are worse than bad, powerful, and have connections far beyond what you can even imagine. You must be very careful if you’re going to push this. You can’t trust all the people you think you ought to be able to.”

  Jax shrugged. “I’ve been in on taking down some pretty high-placed thugs. Meanwhile, I’ll also give the same effort to keeping you safe. The other witness is as secure as we can get her. I don’t know if the judge will go for protection for you after this or not. I’ll try. For now, you’re here and you have to stay invisible.”

  The mixture he concocted was ready. He pulled a package of tortillas and a bag of grated cheese out of the fridge and dropped them on the table. “Beer or soda to wash it down?”

  “Soda,” Gabriel said without hesitation. “I don’t do drugs at all and very seldom alcohol. They mess me up too much. I prefer to keep in control and clear-headed. I know that may seem strange given where I’ve been the past eight months, but I swear it’s true. They all laughed at me.”

  Jax raised an eyebrow and fixed Gabriel with a keen stare. “No shit?”

  “No shit. I swear it.”

  “Okay, here’s a Dr. Pepper—all I have right now.” He pulled out a beer for himself and dropped into the chair across from Gabriel. “Let’s eat.”

  * * * *

  It seemed more like a dream than reality. Gabriel picked up his fork and cut a hunk off the end of one burrito. It tasted like manna from heaven. The cold soda went down easy, too. For now, he set fear and worry aside to live in the moment. In this hour, life was good. He’d learned lately to cherish the small pleasant times since they were few and fleeting.

  He glanced across the table at his host, really studying him for the first time. The detective was a good-looking man, totally masculine, nice physique without looking like a body builder, rugged features. He did not have a cruel face, Gabriel decided. And the larger man wore his hair buzz-cut short. It looked very black and wiry.

  “I’m not even sure I know your name,” he said after a moment. “They called you Officer McDermott or Detective McDermott, but that sounds Irish, and you’re…” He floundered to a stop, fearful of making a major misstep.

  “My name’s Jackson, Jackson McDermott, but I go by Jax. My dad was Irish. Mom’s African American and French Creole. Guess I’m just a Heinz fifty-seven American. For here and now, you can call me Jax. Sorry; I should’ve introduced myself. I know you’re Gabriel. Do you use Gabe or something else for everyday?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Sometimes Gabe. My family wasn’t big on nicknames, and I guess you need to have a gang of friends to win a nickname. You can call me whatever you want to.”

  Jax smiled at him, and he felt it all the way to his toes—but especially just south of his belt buckle. He gulped. “I don’t know how to thank you for taking me in this way. The streets would not be friendly. They never are, but now it’d be worse. But you know there’s no way I can pay my way or share the costs. I’m not a big eater, but I know how much everything is these days. And I don’t have a lousy thing except these clothes on my back that they gave me at the jail. They’re pretty sorry.”

  Jax shrugged. “I’m not rich, but I make a decent salary. And my nephew is close to your size. We can probably borrow some of Marty’s clothes for you. Damn, kid’s fourteen already and going to be big like Jeff and me. Shit, where does the time go?”

  Jax stood and started to clear the table. Gabriel jumped up to help. “Here, let me do that. It’s the least I can do—a few chores for you. I know how to put dishes in a dishwasher and stuff. Geez.”

  He felt his face redden at Jax’s quizzical look. “You sure?” The detective grinned then. “Chill out, Gabe. It’s not that big a bother to have you stay here for a couple of days while things get sorted out. I have two bedrooms and there’s food in the fridge and the cupboard—nothing fancy, but enough to eat. Just relax.”

  He turned to the refrigerator and shoved the hot sauce bottle and the bag of cheese inside. That was when Gabriel noticed the sour cream carton, scooped it up and headed the same direction. When Jax wheeled away as he closed the fridge door, they slammed into one another. The impact almost knocked Gabriel down. When he staggered, Jax grabbed his arm to steady him.

  “Whoa there. Don’t fall on your ass.”

  Gabriel grabbed reflexively to keep from tumbling backward. His fist crumpled a handful of Jax’s shirt. They seemed to be playing an awkward sort of ping-pong, bouncing back and forth with each other for a few tense seconds.

  Then, as if some kind of super glue had emerged to bond them, they came and remained together, chest-to-chest and thigh-to-thigh. Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, one hand still clenching a section of Jax’s tan shirt and the other coming to rest against the bigger man’s solid left arm. He could feel the breeze of Jax’s breath across his face and the sudden acceleration of both their heartbeats.

  He had not planned or expected this, although, perhaps, in some dark corner of his mind, he had hoped or wished or dreamed. Even confused and terrified, he realized he’d felt a surge of interest and attraction almost from the first. There was something strong, sure and masculine about Jax that reached out to him, fearful or not. He’d ignored it out of a need to protect himself, but now those barriers seemed to have fallen away.

  The unyielding power of Jax’s grip on him felt safe and comforting. He didn’t ever want to move. “Ah, si. Por favor…”

  He could not say exactly what he asked for, but he begged with his whole being. He was starving for this very touch, the strange gentleness in the other man’s strength. It had been so lo
ng since anyone had treated him like a person, like a fellow human being worthy of care and concern…

  He absorbed the sensations like a dry sponge.

  * * * *

  Even as Jax slipped one arm around the smaller man’s body, he told himself he was not going to do this. Even as he felt Gabriel go pliant in his hold, he was silently yelling, No, no, I cannot do this!

  Even as his head lowered, as if without his will or control, and his lips brushed across the light stubble on Gabriel’s cheek and then found his mouth, part of him denied and demanded he stop at once.

  I’ll push him back in just a second, step away and pretend this did not happen…But he might as well tell the wind to quit blowing or the Rio Grande to flow back up to Albuquerque. He was caught in something too elemental and too fiercely powerful to resist.

  He’d been keeping to himself for a long time, shunning anything that might lead to a relationship and too fearful of AIDS or damage to his career to go to the mariposa boys who were always willing and available. Celibacy sucked. No two ways about it. And now his body was demanding an end to the dry spell. Bad timing, really bad timing, but he wasn’t sure he could bring this to a halt. It might be wrong and was certainly risky and foolish and dangerous, but none of that seemed to matter.

  When he finally lifted his head from the grinding, devouring kiss, he looked into Gabriel’s eyes from inches away. Although he saw a tangle of emotions in them, the primary ones seemed to be joy and acceptance.

  “I know what I can do to show my thanks,” Gabriel said. “What we both seem to want, seem to need. While I’m here, I’m yours.”

  If anything could throw cold water on Jax’s flaming need, those words were the perfect frost. “God damn it! I’m not buying you, and you’re not doing a fucking thing as payment. What kind of sorry asshole do you think I am?”

  “No, no! I don’t mean it like that. I want this, probably more than you do. Yes, I’ve been on the street and sold myself because Contreras demanded it, but not ever of my own free will or my own desire. It’s been a million years since anyone touched me with even a trace of care, of regard. I want your hands on me, want to taste and touch you, maybe have you fuck me later. I need this to regain something I thought I’d lost.”

  Jax stepped back and shook his head, dizzy with the urgency still roaring through his veins and the pressure of his cock inside his jeans so fierce it hurt. He could not let himself see the hurt and earnest entreaty in Gabriel’s face. Taking another step back, he sank onto a kitchen chair. He put his head in his hands and struggled to calm down.

  “Jesus, Gabe, twenty-four hours ago, you were still a suspect in as nasty a multiple murder as I’ve seen recently. I arrested you. How can you—oh shit, I’m talking to myself as much as to you. I’m not sure I can do this—be in the same house and keep my hands and my dick to myself. But to do otherwise goes against so much that I believe in.”

  He did look up then and saw Gabe’s face had gone pale.

  “I—Please, I did not mean to push you. I’ll go if that’s what you think is best, is right. I’ll go right now. Maybe to the Salvation Army or the YMCA or something.”

  “No, I can’t let you put yourself at that kind of risk. We both know Contreras and his gang want you in the worst way now. I won’t have your bloody body on my conscience. I’ll—the second door to the right down the hall is the spare room.” He drew a slow breath and let it out.

  “There’s a TV in there and a clock radio, an old bathrobe in the closet, I think. Go get ready for bed. You can use the bathroom first. I’ll call Jeff’s and see if I can get some clean clothes for you. He’s probably on duty, but his wife can drop them by. This will all look different tomorrow.”

  He was lying through his teeth with that last, but by then maybe he could have his testosterone under control and be able to deal with this. He’d have to try. Gabriel nodded, a single jerky nod, as he turned and fled the kitchen.

  Jax swore under his breath. Time for another stick of gum…probably the whole fucking pack this time.

  Chapter 6

  For the next three days, Jax managed to keep his libido under control. If he was honest with himself, though, it was more due to the fact he barely made it home to sleep a few hours and that the pressures of his quest to nab Refugio Soliz dominated his time and thoughts. Until Soliz was in custody, the Rincon Street case remained open and Gabriel Suarez remained in danger.

  Jax hoped Gabriel had followed orders and stayed inside. Ruth, Jeff’s wife, had brought some clothes for the young man the first night. She indicated her son wouldn’t go naked over a few pairs of jeans, some shirts, a couple of changes of underwear and socks and a jacket. Gabriel had been so grateful when he saw them the next morning that Jax had to flee the house to escape his effusive thanks. By the time he got home well after midnight, the younger man was in bed and seemed to be asleep. Jax had checked just to be sure his guest was all right. They saw each other briefly the next morning, but Jax lost no time heading off to work.

  When they caught Soliz, it was purely by chance. So much of police work seemed to be that way. You did all you could until you almost gave up trying and that’s when things tended to fall into place. Without a warrant—and they really had no cause to get one—they had not been able to search Contreras’ place. Jax heard through the grapevine that Contreras had made a large contribution to the mayor’s coffers last election. Knowing that, he realized moves against the alleged crime boss would be futile, if not downright dangerous. Times like this, he seriously considered turning in his badge, but he could not quite go that far.

  He’d think, What would Dad have done? And, of course, the answer was hang tough and keep on trying. Even Jeff, now a lieutenant with the state patrol, would likely counsel him to be patient.

  However, an early evening raid on a skuzzy barrio club reputed to be selling liquor to underage patrons and doing some drug business in a back room managed to net Soliz, along with a number of lesser known crooks. Jax could hardly believe the luck. He made sure Soliz was promptly charged in the murders of five people and attempted killing of two more—the infant who had survived and was now in the care of the state, and, of course, Gabriel.

  That night Jax went home, jubilant over the unexpected turn of events. It was the earliest he had gotten home for several days so Gabriel was still up.

  He greeted Jax with some restraint, apparently hesitant and afraid to upset his perhaps unwilling host. Jax sighed. Guess I’ve not exactly made him feel welcome and comfy, have I?

  “You been staying inside and out of sight?” Jax called the question over his shoulder as he made the circuit to check the windows, noting as he did how all the blinds were closed.

  “Oh yeah,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t even take out the garbage, although I saw it needed to go.”

  “Good, but maybe things can ease off a little now. We got Soliz.” Jax announced the news once he had gone through his routine. “He’s behind bars and bail’s been set at a flat million dollars. Unless the cartel wants him awfully bad, that should keep him in custody for a few days. I’m sure he’ll be bound over for trial. While it doesn’t make you safe from Contreras, it does make a difference.”

  Gabriel nodded. “Great, but I’m amazed you were able to catch Soliz.”

  “Pure luck,” Jax admitted. “Seems like he decided to have a beer and maybe lay a little threat on the owner of El Pajaro Boracho at the wrong time. Right for us, but wrong for him, anyway. The raid was due to underage drinking there, but one of the uniforms recognized him and grabbed him fast. For once, our plans didn’t get leaked. The crowd there was taken by total surprise, including Soliz. Thank God for small favors.”

  Gabriel managed a slight smile. “Very lucky. I just hope the cartel doesn’t decide to bail him out, but that’s a lot of money to spend on an ordinary assassin. He could be replaced for a lot less than that. I expect he’ll keep silent. It’s the code he’s learned to live by.”

  Jax nod
ded as he studied the younger man for a moment. “I’m sure now I can get you into witness protection if you want it. They’ll hide you somewhere until the trial and afterward probably send you far away with a new identity. You’d be wise to take it.”

  Gabriel shot him a single anguished look before dropping his gaze to the bright rug on the kitchen floor. “How do I know the program is not—that there’re no leaks or weak links or cartel plants in the system?”

  “No promises, I guess. Far as I know, we’ve never lost anyone in the program, at least not under suspicious circumstances, but life doesn’t come with guarantees. You should know that by now.”

  Again Gabriel nodded. “Yes, I do. It’s just—I’d rather not go that way if there’s another option…”

  “Like staying here? I warned you that wasn’t a good idea or a long term fix for you. Is there a chance you might get your family to forgive you and take you back?”

  Gabriel sighed. “My mother might but I don’t think my father ever will. Having a gay son is like a personal insult to him, to his manhood, his dignity, and status. He told me that much the day he disowned me. No, and I wouldn’t want to bring my enemies to their door in any case. They don’t deserve that, no matter what.”

  Jax had to agree with the other man’s logic there. He’d been relieved when his mother finally decided to move back to Louisiana where other relatives lived. Now she was a lot farther away from any vengeful people he or Jeff might have brought to justice.

  “Since I’m no longer a suspect, there’s no longer a real conflict of interest for you, is there?”

  Before he shook his head, Jax hesitated. “No, not really,” he admitted. “It may not be really kosher, but I don’t recall anything like that ever coming up before. I doubt there’s anything in the manual of procedure about it.”

  “Then let me stay? I’ll dye my hair or wear a wig or something, continue to lie low most of the time while we see how this plays out. I’m not a great cook, but I can fix a few simple things and I know how to do laundry and cleaning. Look around—I haven’t been sitting on my hands the last few days. Hell, I’d go loco without something to do! Later I might even go online and start taking some more courses toward my degree or find a temporary job or…”