No Rep by Lani Lynn Vale

CHAPTER 21

You suck less than most people.

-Taos to Madden

TAOS

“I’m sorry, but can you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you correctly.” I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose.

I was knee-deep in serial killer bullshit when I got the call from an officer that I’d met only a few times before.

“We have your girlfriend here with a baby and that baby’s mother. They say they know you,” Officer Shane explained again.

I sighed. “Where is here? And what did they do?”

I had no clue that Fran had it in her, honestly.

“Fran didn’t actually do anything,” Shane explained. “It was the sister. They were asked to leave. The sister refused until she could finish taking a driveshaft out of a car. Then she loaded it into her van, locked the doors, then we took them all in. Her van’s been towed by Murphy’s Garage, and I don’t know what to do with them.”

I had no clue what to say to that, to be honest.

“You never said where they are,” I grumbled.

“Well…” Shane hesitated. “We’re at the police station because Heather Trudell wanted to press charges.”

I groaned at the reporter’s name.

“I’m here,” I grumbled as I stood up.

Schultz, Easton and the chief all followed me outside, having heard quite a bit of the conversation since about halfway through, I’d put it on speaker for them to hear.

The chief was laughing quietly as he followed behind.

I, on the other hand, didn’t find it nearly as funny.

Mostly because I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it hadn’t been Fran’s idea.

It’d likely been Mavis’s.

I found out exactly whose idea it was two seconds later when I arrived outside to hear Murphy yelling at Mavis.

“You have a fucking kid, Mavis. You can’t just go getting arrested and expect to keep your job,” Murphy growled.

“Well,” Mavis snarled right back. “I was just having my sister’s back. Since, you know, that fucking whore right there,” she pointed at Heather Trudell, “decided to plaster my sister’s face, her goddamn home address, and her motherfuckin’ business in the damn paper all because she’s a little twat who thinks that she can ruin people’s lives! And, let’s not forget, it’s not going to just annoy her. It’s got Fran’s freakin’ head on a platter sitting directly in front of a serial killer that’s killing people that look exactly like her!”

“Fuck,” I hissed.

Fran’s eyes turned to me, and I realized my mistake. I’d been kicking the clues around in my head and trying to put my finger on the connection between all of the women. The part that I couldn’t quite lock onto fell into place.

Every single one of the deceased women of this serial killer did, in fact, look exactly like Fran. Not in skin color or hair color, but in eye color, bone structure—all small, compact, and athletic looking—and each had very curly hair. The type of curly hair that required some sort of taming stuff be put in their hair or it’d go wild.

I looked at Fran, then looked at Schultz, followed by Easton, who were tilting their heads in understanding.

“Who does your hair, Fran?” I asked, a thought occurring to me.

“Umm,” she hesitated. “A new girl in town. She specializes in hair like mine. Actually, she owns a traveling hair salon. She services three states. Makes a shit ton of money doing it, too.”

My mind locked onto the link like it was wildfire, all the tiny little pieces adding up until only one thought occurred.

“What’s her name?” I wondered.

“Why do you need to know her name?” Heather asked.

Mavis whipped her head around and glared. “Why the fuck are you here?”

“I want to make sure that you’re penalized for vandalizing my car,” Heather snarled. “I have to take that to a dealership in Austin now because they’re the only ones that service them!”

Murphy snorted. “Bring it to my shop and I’ll get it fixed for you in an hour.”

“I’m not bringing it to a shop that has the likes of you working it.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ll have you know that Murphy’s shop is a pristine business. The only thing that could make it even remotely bad is to have your taint, both figuratively and literally, walking into its doors,” Mavis sneered.

“Is that really a way to talk around your son?” she asked. “Who is the father, anyway? Him? Is that why y’all hate each other? Because you got pregnant on purpose?”

She gave Murphy a pitying look, as if she felt sorry for him.

Murphy narrowed his eyes, however, and said, “I’ll pay for any damages that incurred. And I’ll fix it for free.”

“Whatever. Protect the little bitch. It’s not like you have any taste, obviously,” Heather hissed. “Now, back to this…” She waved her hand at me, but Vlad started to cry, catching her attention. “Can’t you get that thing to shut up?”

Francine’s back stiffened, and before any of us could move, Mavis shot forward and planted her fist right into Heather’s nose.

Heather dropped like a freakin’ weighted-down barbell. Hit the ground with a resounding clang, and then went still.

“Who the hell taught you to throw a punch?” Schultz asked as he walked over to where Heather was down on the ground and stared at her.

Mavis shook out her hand and hissed. “Murphy did. When we were twelve.”

My brows went up at Murphy. Murphy shrugged.

Apparently, answering me wasn’t going to be something he did today.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Chief Wilkerson groaned. “This is a massive shitterfuck.”

“What is a shitterfuck?” Mavis asked Murphy as she shook out her hand.

Murphy gently wrapped his hand around Mavis’s and brought her closer to him. “Get your kid and let’s go.”

Fran handed Vlad over and the three of them left without a backward glance.

Chief Wilkerson didn’t even stop them.

Heather woke up and groaned. “I want to file charges!”

Fran walked over and then leaned over her. “No judge is going to begrudge me a hit when you put me in the line of sight of a serial killer.”

“You didn’t hit me. Your sister did!” she whined, pressing her hands to her nose. “I could’ve choked on my own blood.”

“I hit you,” Fran lied. “And I’m a nurse. I would’ve known if you were in peril.”

“You were fired from the hospital for a medication error that almost killed someone,” Heather said, pressing her hands to her nose as she rolled over and stood in the next instant.

“Actually,” a cultured, distinguished voice said from the front doors. “She wasn’t fired. She left. And it was found out later that another nurse was responsible for that medication draw up. Not only was Francine given the medication to administer, but it was also double-checked by another nurse before it was given to my granddaughter to administer. Now, let’s discuss how you put my Francine in the crosshairs of a serial killer because you were upset with the officers for blowing you off.”

Fran stiffened.

I looked to the door to see an elderly woman making her way inside.

She was dressed immaculately and looked as if she were stepping out to meet with the Queen of England, and not into the Paris police station.

Pearl Pope.

Francine stepped back until she was hidden behind me, and I would’ve laughed had Pearl Pope’s eyes not caught on the movement.

Her eyes were like sharply-honed laser beams.

“Francine Pope,” Pearl snapped, “I’ve been calling you all day long.”

Heather started to snicker.

Which was the worst mistake ever.

“Heather Trudell,” Pearl enunciated perfectly. “I need some privacy, since it’s more than obvious that you can’t keep anything to yourself.”

“Burn,” Schultz whispered under his breath.

Pearl’s eyes went to him. “Mr. Schultz. Please escort her out. And remind her, that if she wants to press charges against a Pope, she better have a damn good lawyer. I have the money to blow. She does not.” Pearl’s eyes went to Heather.

Schultz jumped to do just that, helping Heather out the door a moment later. Heather who, surprisingly, was very quiet and meek as she left, which was quite unusual for her. Every time I’d met her, she’d been abrasive, nosy, and wouldn’t give up for anything. Like a dog with a bone and a scent, she wouldn’t ever give up.

“Whatever you do,” Francine whispered behind me so quietly that I could barely hear. “Don’t tell her that you…”

Whatever she was about to say was cut off when Pearl’s eyes snapped to me. “You.”

I blinked. “Yes?”

“You are not good enough to carry the Pope name. You will at once stop seeing my granddaughter,” Pearl ordered harshly.

I blinked. “What? Why would I carry the Pope name?”

“Because, it’s tradition. If a man marries a Pope, the man takes the Pope name,” Pearl informed me.

I would’ve laughed had she not been completely, one-hundred-percent serious.

“I’m sorry.” I paused. “But I do have my balls. Would you like to see them?”

Fran pinched me.

I would’ve laughed had I not thought it would set the old woman off.

Pearl’s eyes were already narrowed on mine. “Like I told Heather Trudell,” she hissed. “I have the money to fight anything you lay at our feet. If my granddaughter makes the mistake of marrying you, and I know that she will because you have a really pretty face, I’ll be here to fix that mistake when she realizes that she made one.”

God, Fran and Mavis were right. Their grandmother was a bitch. No wonder Fran hadn’t mentioned meeting her. She was nothing like my own grandmother, who would’ve done absolutely anything to make my life exactly like I wanted it.

No wonder she avoided the hell out of her. And, just sayin’, but if the woman had been calling me all day long, you bet your ass I would’ve ignored those calls, too.

“If I say or do anything to protect you, she’ll hone in on that as a weakness and make it worse. If I stay back here and act meek, she’ll eventually leave in a huff because I’m ignoring her. I love you,” she whispered.

Those words, whispered against my back, made me feel like I could take on the world.

And, possibly, even Pearl Pope.

“When we have kids,” I said to Pearl, gathering Fran closer to my back so that she was pressed as tight as she could be. “They won’t see you.”

Pearl’s eyes narrowed. “Think again, young man.”

“And when we get married, you won’t be invited to the wedding,” I continued.

Pearl’s spine snapped even straighter than she’d held it previously.

“I have to be there, or it’ll look poorly on me,” she hissed. “Even if I don’t agree with the relationship between you two.”

I snorted. “We’ll be going to Vegas for a shotgun marriage in a few weeks. She’s pregnant, and I can’t have her showing before she has my name.”

Pearl’s mouth dropped open. “Francine!”

I could feel Fran giggling against my back.

Easton shifted from foot to foot, either tired of what he was hearing, or frustrated with the woman in front of us.

Chief Wilkerson was like a silent sentinel at my side.

And let’s not forget all the other people that were now listening behind us and at our sides that’d come in off of shift, or were about to go out on shift.

“Now, let me focus on my job,” I told Pearl. “You know, that pesky serial killer that’s floating around out there with your granddaughter’s name in the forefront of his mind?”

Pearl hissed out a breath. “This isn’t over, Francine Pope. We will be discussing this.”

With those final words, Pearl swept out of the police station in a dignified huff.

The moment the doors closed behind her, Chief Wilkerson said, “I guess congratulations are in order?”

Francine lost it then. “I swear to God. I’m really a nice person, but she makes it so hard for me to continue being a law-abiding citizen.”

Chief snorted and clapped her on the back. “We’ll give y’all a few minutes.”

I understood that for the order that it was.

Fran did, too.

“Can I borrow your car?” she teased.

I snorted. “I would if I could, but I’m fairly sure that it was you that borrowed it this morning. You dropped me off, remember?”

She sighed against my back and I turned to gather her into my arms. “Your grandmother is…”

“A raging bitch?” she finished for me.

I snorted and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head, her riot of curls smelling of lime and some other smell I couldn’t identify.

Which reminded me. “The name of your hair stylist. Will you get it for me?”

She pulled back and fished her phone from her pocket, fiddling on it before sending me whatever she’d found.

“I sent you her details,” she said. “I’ll hitch a ride from the two that are still out in the parking lot arguing.”

“How do you know that they’re outside?” I wondered, looking over her shoulder to the small sliver of parking lot I could see.

“My sister has a sixth sense when it comes to Pearl Pope. She’ll be there. I was just hoping to avoid them seeing my grandmother as I feel this vibe coming off of them, and I wanted them to have some alone time,” she admitted.

I waited until she sighed and started to pull away before tightening my hands on her. “I love you, too.”

Her breath hitched, and those big blue jean eyes lifted to meet mine.

“And, if you’re into it, I have no problem going to get hitched in Vegas the moment this is all over,” I teased.

Her eyes went wide. “You were serious? I thought you were just putting on a show for my grandmother.”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t putting on any show. I want you. I want you to carry my name. And as long as you have no problem with my own grandmother being there and not yours, I’m down for Vegas.”

She shook her head. “When you get done here today, let’s go meet your grandmother. I want to make sure that she knows me.”

I winked. “I’ll call her and tell her we’re coming.”