"since there's not going to be any official police investigation, can we at least agree to share information?"
"You're not listening to me, Ben. There's not going to be any information to share."
"You never know. Something might turn up. Let's keep each other informed of what we're doing."
"If it will make you happy, Ben, fine."
"It will." He smiled slightly. "I'll put a good word in for you at the family reunion."
"Please don't. The only person on earth your sister is less fond of than me is you."
"Good point." He crossed the room and extended his hand. "Pleasure meeting you, Sergeant Baxter."
"Was it?" She didn't shake.
Ben drew in his breath, then gave Mike a smile. "And good luck with the new partner, Mike. I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship."
Chapter 9
Did they know what he had done? Gabriel Aravena wondered. Did they know it was him?
Everyone who entered the FastTrak today seemed to be staring at him. Perhaps he was just imagining it. The delusion of a guilty conscience, that's what Dr. Bennett would say. But no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that-there were still those eyes! Those damned eyes, staring at him, constant, unrelenting. He'd like to rip them out and-
He clutched the cash drawer, trying to steady himself. Get a grip, Gabriel. You are too close. Too close to spoil it by doing something stupid now. So what if they are staring? If they're staring at anything, it's probably your great big womanlike breasts. It's probably the-
"Like... do you carry bras?"
Aravena's eyes narrowed as he peered down at the two blonde teenage girls leaning across the counter. "Why do you ask?"
"How about... because I need a bra?" the one on the left said. "Duh."
Aravena lowered his gaze, making no attempt to hide where his eyes were going. As far as he could tell, she actually had very little need for a bra.
Of course, he liked them like that.
"I'm sorry, miss. We don't carry clothing. This is a convenience store."
"I know what it is, Professor. I just thought, maybe, you might have a private stash of bras around." She began to giggle, then she and her friend skittered out the door, laughing all the way.
"Obnoxious little tramps." His assistant manager, April, had returned from the storage room. "What do they think this is, Sears?"
"I believe they were making a little joke. Or so they thought."
"I'm sorry, Gabe. Girls can be such bitches sometimes."
She would know, he supposed. April was only seventeen herself. She was five feet three and trim and athletic; he could tell from her arms that she worked out regularly. "It's nothing. Really."
"How was the doctor appointment yesterday?"
"Oh fine, fine." April had never asked, but she must suspect that the doctor he took off work to see once a week was a psychiatrist, just as she must have guessed that medication was enlarging his breasts and causing his hair to fall out. How much did she know about his past? he had often wondered. The owner knew, of course, and the flunky who had hired him. He had no way of being certain, but he suspected they had also informed April. A corporate variation of Megan's Law-inform the young female employee that the man she's working with is a former sex offender. Convicted of a crime involving an eleven-year-old girl.
If April knew, she didn't appear to hold it against him. To the contrary, she made a point of being open, casual, friendly. Joking around. Making a show of the fact that she could handle it. That he didn't make her uncomfortable. Except of course that the fact that she had to make the show proved that he did.
And she wasn't the only one putting on a show. He was performing, too, every day they were together. He also had to be open, casual, friendly-but not too. And it was hard work. Because he liked April. Very much. She was almost exactly his type. Dark hair, dark eyes. A little old, but in truth she didn't look her age. Sometimes, when he was certain she wasn't looking, he'd cop
"You're not listening to me, Ben. There's not going to be any information to share."
"You never know. Something might turn up. Let's keep each other informed of what we're doing."
"If it will make you happy, Ben, fine."
"It will." He smiled slightly. "I'll put a good word in for you at the family reunion."
"Please don't. The only person on earth your sister is less fond of than me is you."
"Good point." He crossed the room and extended his hand. "Pleasure meeting you, Sergeant Baxter."
"Was it?" She didn't shake.
Ben drew in his breath, then gave Mike a smile. "And good luck with the new partner, Mike. I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship."
Chapter 9
Did they know what he had done? Gabriel Aravena wondered. Did they know it was him?
Everyone who entered the FastTrak today seemed to be staring at him. Perhaps he was just imagining it. The delusion of a guilty conscience, that's what Dr. Bennett would say. But no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that-there were still those eyes! Those damned eyes, staring at him, constant, unrelenting. He'd like to rip them out and-
He clutched the cash drawer, trying to steady himself. Get a grip, Gabriel. You are too close. Too close to spoil it by doing something stupid now. So what if they are staring? If they're staring at anything, it's probably your great big womanlike breasts. It's probably the-
"Like... do you carry bras?"
Aravena's eyes narrowed as he peered down at the two blonde teenage girls leaning across the counter. "Why do you ask?"
"How about... because I need a bra?" the one on the left said. "Duh."
Aravena lowered his gaze, making no attempt to hide where his eyes were going. As far as he could tell, she actually had very little need for a bra.
Of course, he liked them like that.
"I'm sorry, miss. We don't carry clothing. This is a convenience store."
"I know what it is, Professor. I just thought, maybe, you might have a private stash of bras around." She began to giggle, then she and her friend skittered out the door, laughing all the way.
"Obnoxious little tramps." His assistant manager, April, had returned from the storage room. "What do they think this is, Sears?"
"I believe they were making a little joke. Or so they thought."
"I'm sorry, Gabe. Girls can be such bitches sometimes."
She would know, he supposed. April was only seventeen herself. She was five feet three and trim and athletic; he could tell from her arms that she worked out regularly. "It's nothing. Really."
"How was the doctor appointment yesterday?"
"Oh fine, fine." April had never asked, but she must suspect that the doctor he took off work to see once a week was a psychiatrist, just as she must have guessed that medication was enlarging his breasts and causing his hair to fall out. How much did she know about his past? he had often wondered. The owner knew, of course, and the flunky who had hired him. He had no way of being certain, but he suspected they had also informed April. A corporate variation of Megan's Law-inform the young female employee that the man she's working with is a former sex offender. Convicted of a crime involving an eleven-year-old girl.
If April knew, she didn't appear to hold it against him. To the contrary, she made a point of being open, casual, friendly. Joking around. Making a show of the fact that she could handle it. That he didn't make her uncomfortable. Except of course that the fact that she had to make the show proved that he did.
And she wasn't the only one putting on a show. He was performing, too, every day they were together. He also had to be open, casual, friendly-but not too. And it was hard work. Because he liked April. Very much. She was almost exactly his type. Dark hair, dark eyes. A little old, but in truth she didn't look her age. Sometimes, when he was certain she wasn't looking, he'd cop
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