Book Read Free

Quick Fix

Page 9

by Linda Grimes


  The young, uniformed woman at the desk remembered Thomas, and gave me a worshipful smile. “Hey there, Mr. Halligan. You back already?”

  I shrugged. “Forgot to get a certain critical piece of information from my client. Do you suppose we could get the private room again? You know, privileged … stuff.”

  She seemed hesitant. I smiled big, making Thomas’s teeth a half-shade brighter than they really were. Her eyes widened, the pupils getting larger. “Well, usually … um, sure. Sure. I’ll set it up. Just be sure to stop by the desk on your way out, okay? I get off work soon.…”

  *

  Brian, with a big, goofy grin on Billy’s aura, was handcuffed to the table when I got to the room. I waited until the door was shut behind us and then said, “What the hell, Bri?”

  His eyes—those beautiful, dark blue Doyle eyes, not Brian’s soft brown ones—looked perplexed. “Dude, you were just here. We’ve already been over this.”

  “Yeah, well I’m back. And this time we’re switching places, just like you did with Billy.”

  “But why, man? I can wait until you bail me out. No sweat.”

  I pulled myself up to big-brotherly proportions. “Because I said so. Come on, no time to discuss. Let’s go.”

  He shrugged philosophically, kicked off his shoes, shifted to a very tiny aura, and slipped out of his cuffs, both hand and ankle.

  “Nice,” I said, remembering how I’d pulled the same trick in Sweden when my last job went awry.

  “I know, right? Billy gave me this aura. Said it was a handy one to have.”

  Yeah, trust Billy.

  We finished the switcheroo, with me mostly keeping my eyes shut. I swear, if I never risked seeing another one of my brothers naked again, it would be too soon.

  I made my way into the cuffs the same way Brian had—by borrowing the handy aura Billy had given him.

  “So, who’s going to bail you out tomorrow if you’re in here?” Brian said, now thinking like a lawyer.

  “Uh … don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”

  *

  The holding cell wasn’t bad, as holding cells go, I supposed. There was only one other guy in there with me, and I was pretty sure I could take him if I had to, since I had access to Billy’s strength. I’d feel even better if I also had access to his martial arts training. Unfortunately, some things don’t convey with auras.

  The guy looked Italian, maybe Greek, with buzzed black fuzz all over his head (and half his forehead). He probably shaved his scalp regularly so his skull-and-crossbones tattoo would show.

  He smiled, big and evil, when he saw me glancing at him, proudly displaying a gold-capped front tooth. “We gonna play now?” he said, his voice rough, like someone had whisked an eggbeater in his throat. “You promised we’d play when you got back.”

  Crap. What had I done?

  I clenched my fists, taking what comfort I could from the size of Billy’s hands. Well, better me than Brian. At least I had no compunction about hurting other people when the need arose.

  *

  We were on our fifth hand of Five Card Draw when another officer came for me. “Looks like your lucky night, Doyle. Your lawyer’s back again, this time with an order from the judge. You’re free to go—for now.”

  Huh. Thomas must have come through after all.

  “Just a sec,” I said, and laid down my cards faceup—two queens and three tens. “Ha! Beat that!”

  Bruno displayed his gold tooth again, looking more evil than ever before. He spread his cards on the mattress between us. Three aces and a pair of kings. “Read ’em and weep.”

  Yeah, Bruno had turned out to be a pretty good guy. Which is why, I supposed, Billy hadn’t worried too much about leaving Brian here for a while.

  And there it was again—that compulsion to make excuses for Billy.

  I sighed and followed the officer out to face the music with Thomas. All in all, I thought I’d rather stay the night with Bruno.

  *

  It wasn’t pretty. As soon as we were in the limo, Thomas laid into me worse than he ever had before, called me every kind of idiot there was, yelled at me—directly at me, which I couldn’t remember him ever doing before, at least not this badly. Sure, I’d been around his temper before, but I was usually a spectator.

  And then he washed his hands of me, threatening to evict me from my condo and my office because it was obvious I wasn’t mentally competent enough to live by myself or run my own business. He further threatened to tell Mom and Dad what I’d done and let them deal with me for a change.

  After that, I kind of lost track of what he was saying. I think my ears went numb.

  Brian was on the other side of me. His medium-brown hair was long on top, close-cut on the sides and back, and his facial hair was kind of sketch, but it worked for him. He looked bored, like he’d heard it all before.

  Which, of course, he had, when Thomas caught “himself” walking away from the police station earlier. I could only imagine how that went over.

  Once Thomas had yelled himself out, he took a deep breath and hugged me tight, muttering, “I’m going to kill Billy.”

  After a moment or two of blessed silence, I ventured to ask if the window between us and the front seat was soundproof.

  “Of course. But it wouldn’t matter if it weren’t—the driver works for me.”

  Brian said, “If I’d known it was Ciel, I never would have switched places. I just wanted to say that, since you didn’t give me a chance earlier.”

  Thomas shook his head, disgusted but calm. “Like that would have been any better.”

  “I would’ve been fine until morning,” Brian said.

  We were heading for Brian’s bachelor pad. He shared a Williamsburg (the indie-rock/hipster culture was very important to Brian) apartment with three of his musician friends, one of whom was his current love interest. Maybe. She was the previous week, anyway. With Brian that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He wasn’t a player, like Billy. He was just a hopeless romantic who happened to have a very short attention span. He honestly thought he loved every girl he fell for, right up until he fell for the next one.

  “Really,” he continued, trying futilely to erase the skepticism from Thomas’s face. “My cell mate was a nice guy—he was innocent. There was some kind of mistake, same as there was with Billy.”

  Not exactly the best comparison to make where Thomas was concerned. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said, but there was more resignation than anger in his voice. We were all used to Brian’s optimistic view of human nature. He wasn’t stupid, not in the low IQ sense of the word, anyway. Mom swears he tested close to genius level in those routine assessments given to all kids in school, second only to James out of the four of us. If that was truly the case, all I can say is he hides it well.

  At least I could vouch for Bruno, and I did, being sure to add my opinion that Billy never would have asked Brian to trade places if he hadn’t known Bruno was a safe guy. That earned me a similarly resigned look from Thomas. He had way too much experience with the legal system to trust an amateur’s view of it.

  “Not that I mind getting out,” Brian continued. “I have a gig later, and I hate to leave the guys in the lurch. Hey, where’s James?”

  “He’s babysitting Molly,” I said. Thank goodness Auntie Mo still thought her youngest was with us back in D.C., so that was one less worry for now.

  “Keeping her out of Mo’s hair, huh? That’s nice of him.”

  Thomas caught my eye and gave a tiny shake of his head. Okay, so we weren’t going to explain about Molly yet.

  “Something like that,” I said, and proceeded to change the subject. “So, how’s Jenny?”

  Blank stare from Brian.

  Geez. I was pretty sure that was the name of the latest. “Your girlfriend? Sandy blond hair, long legs, plays guitar, lives with you?”

  He shrugged. “Oh. She moved out. But Suze is great—you’re going to love her. Cute as a button. Mad orga
nizational skills. We hired her to build us a database for our music and keep the books for us. The band needed somebody to take care of the business end of things.”

  Thomas looked a little put out. He had a tendency to want to watch out for all of us himself. “I could’ve done that for you, no sweat, no charge.”

  Brian flashed a smile that reminded me too much of Billy. “Yeah, but you aren’t as hot as she is. And she’s not charging us, either.”

  Jesus. Men. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. Jenny didn’t care much for Suze’s ‘skills,’ and decided to leave.”

  “Kind of. I think it was mostly that Jenny didn’t like sharing a kitchen with another woman.”

  “So Suze has already moved in? How convenient for you,” I said.

  “We’re not charging her rent. We have a barter arrangement.”

  “Are you sleeping with her?” Thomas asked bluntly.

  Brian shrugged. “Well, yeah. She asked me to. Why wouldn’t I?” My brother. Just another happy-go-fucky kind of guy.

  “Were you this disgusting when we were growing up?” I said.

  “Hey, I did not sleep with her until after Jenny moved out.”

  “Huh. Big of you.” My sarcasm was lost on him.

  “Yeah, I thought so. It’s not like I didn’t have the opportunity.”

  “Brian, it’s not right to treat women like disposable commodities.” I spoke as if to a dim-witted child. That rolled right off him, too.

  “Jenny’s the one who left. Besides, you never really liked her anyway, so what do you care?”

  True enough. She was a trashy wannabe rock star out to sleep her way into Brian’s band. Still, it was the principle of the thing.

  “Have you been tested for STDs lately?” Thomas asked, ever-practical.

  Brian nodded, a goofy smile on his face. “Yeah. Suze made me. Seriously, you guys are gonna love her—she’s the best.”

  *

  Suze was at least ten years older than Brian. And she looked like a bookkeeper.

  Strike that. She dressed like a bookkeeper. Who knew what lay hidden behind her Marian-the-Librarian glasses, her brown hair in a bun, her up-to-the-neck, down-to-the-knees dress? Perhaps the seething passion of a closet rock-and-roll groupie. Was there a tatt or two under all that starch? Why else would she be interested in my brother? Or, more precisely, he in her?

  “Thomas, Ciel—this is Suze. Susan Hatcher. Suze—my brother, Thomas, and my sister, Ciel.” Pretty formal intro for Brian. Usually, if he bothered to introduce a girl at all, he made do with a casual “that’s so-and-so” and a wave in her general direction. My sisterly antennae rose another notch.

  “Hi.” Suze did the shy-Di glance-away thing, and pushed her glasses back up her nose. The lenses didn’t appear to be very strong, so I suspected they were more to hide behind than for vision enhancement.

  I eyed the youngest of my brothers (he was only a year older than me), wondering what in the heck he had going on this time. Brian went through a lot of girlfriends, none bashful. Or modest dressers.

  Thomas didn’t seem to find anything amiss. He nodded pleasantly and said, “Nice to meet you, Susan.”

  “Likewise,” I said, and stuck out my hand. After a slight hesitation, she took it. A little on the limp side, but not to the wet-noodle extreme. Reflexively, I snatched a bit of her energy before I released her. Couldn’t think of a reason I’d ever need her aura, but you never know.

  “Suze is brilliant.” Brian beamed at her. That look I was familiar with—he beamed at girls all the time. “She’s already figured out a way for the band to turn a profit.”

  “Well, now. That is impressive,” Thomas said, and cut me a sharp glance. He wasn’t full of rapturous approval for the way I handled my business expenses, and never missed a chance to let me know it. I crossed my eyes at him really fast so Susan wouldn’t notice. Not that she would, since she was too busy staring at her sensible, low-heeled pumps. Wait—was that a snake I saw tattooed around her ankle? Hmm.

  “I didn’t do anything special. I just drew up a few simple contracts and then made sure to collect partial payment in advance for the performances,” she said, and cleared her throat.

  While Thomas beamed at her along with Brian, I squatted and pretended to tie my shoe so I could get a closer look at the tatt. It was a snake, its mouth latched onto its tail, with the rattle on the end sticking out between its fangs. I knew it. More than your everyday, run-of-the-mill bookkeeper was our Ms. Hatcher. If that was the kind of body art she had on a readily visible patch of skin, no telling what she had going on where it didn’t show.

  As I stood, I casually checked her ears. Sure enough, alongside her conservative pearl studs were several empty holes. Might she have body jewelry in other, odder places? I shuddered. My needle phobia had prevented me from even a single piercing in each lobe. If I had to wear earrings, I adapted myself lobe holes.

  So, either Suze had an interesting past she was trying to put behind her, or else she was currently playing dress-up for my brother. Not that it was any of my business. Not that not being my business has ever stopped me from being nosy. But curious as I was, this brother’s love life would have to get in line behind a few other pressing issues, like Molly the ape, Billy on the lam, James’s sexuality surprise, and Thomas’s history with Laura. And, of course, most important: who shot Laura?

  Suze excused herself after we declined her offer of refreshments. “I have to change before my night job.” Huh. More bookkeeping? My, she was ambitious.

  After she left the room, Thomas turned to Brian. “You haven’t forgotten, have you? It’s on your calendar?”

  Brian’s face fell. “Yeah. I’ll be there,” he said with a heartfelt sigh. “I just wish I could bring a date. Hey, you don’t suppose—”

  Thomas squashed his idea before it could get past the embryonic phase. “Don’t even think about it. Mom would kill you.”

  Thomas was right. Nonadaptors were strictly verboten at the party, unless they were family members, like James. It was one of the few large social gatherings every year where our kind could relax and let their hair down without fear of being discovered. It was ingrained in all of us from birth not to jeopardize it.

  “But Suze is special,” Brian said. I’d seen that earnest look on his face a gazillion times before, and so had Thomas.

  “You haven’t told her, have you?” Thomas said, leaking a little Metatron into his words.

  “God, no. Of course not!”

  I believed him, and I could tell Thomas did, too.

  “Good. See that you don’t. And come early this year. It won’t kill you to spend a little more time with the family.”

  Suze took that moment to reenter the room, and pretty much stopped the conversation in its tracks. Seeing Marian the Librarian turn into a flashback of Madonna’s conical-metal-bra tour will do that. This was no bookkeeper—the cougar comes out to play—and now I could see why Brian went for her. The transformation was so startling I had to look closely to make sure she wasn’t an adaptor. Brian did not look remotely surprised to see her that way.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I blurted, and then blushed. The ol’ blurt-n-blush is one of my standbys, and never fails to elicit a disapproving look from Thomas.

  I shrugged and gestured toward Suze. “What? Look at her!”

  Suze laughed, a low, smoky sound that almost gave me a sexual tingle. I could only imagine the effect it had on men. Profound, judging by the looks on both my brothers’ faces.

  “It’s for my night job. Bookkeeping doesn’t pay as well as you might think.” She lowered one eyelid at me, slowly. I goggled back at her.

  “What’s your night job? Dominatrix?” Oops. There went the ol’ B & B again.

  “Ciel!” Thomas glowered at me.

  “Uh, sorry.” I tried to look sheepish. “But seriously, isn’t that look a little passé?”

  Brian just laughed. Thank God one of my brothers has a sense of humor. “That
’s the point. It’s retro-irony. Suze fronts a girl band downtown a couple nights a week. It’s where we met.” He gazed at her adoringly, every bit as smitten with this version of her as he was with the other.

  Suze, equally smitten, gazed adoringly back at him. “Brian’s band is so much better than mine—”

  “No way! You draw much bigger crowds than we do.”

  “Only because of the way we dress. If you listen to our recordings, we suck.”

  Okay, so she was a modest hard rocker.

  “You just haven’t found the right mix yet. I told you I’d help with that—”

  Thomas cleared his throat. “Brian? Can I have a word, please?” He led Brian toward the kitchen, out of earshot, leaving me and my big mouth standing there stupidly, trying not to stare at Torpedo Tits. Geez, if you hugged her, you’d be impaled.

  “Well,” she said.

  “Well,” I responded.

  “Um, Brian has told me what a great family he has. It’s nice to meet some of you.” A bit of her earlier shyness was creeping back in. Guess the clothes could only carry you so far.

  “Yeah, nice to meet you, too. Brian has said…” I paused, at a loss. Brian hadn’t said a thing about her to any of us, as far as I knew. “Listen, can I be honest? You’re kind of a surprise.”

  She smiled, big and wide. Was that a diamond I saw in one of her front teeth? Had that been there before? Maybe she just pasted it on for her act. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

  “So, how long have you and Brian been, um, together?”

  “Officially? Six and a half days. But we’ve known each other for almost two weeks.”

  Oh. Well, crack open the champagne.

  “That’s great,” I said, easing toward the kitchen and trying to catch Thomas’s attention. We needed to get back to Mark, find out where Billy went, swing by the hospital to see how Laura was doing, and get a progress report about Molly from James. Much too busy to stand around blabbing with Brian’s latest. Besides, I don’t like to get attached to any of his girlfriends—it’s too hard to remember the names.

 

‹ Prev