by Cathy Pegau
Chapter Four
I called Tonio as soon as I got home from work that evening. He’d left his digits in my comm’s message folder the morning after our dinner the week before. I wasn’t listed in the database, of course, but still had the number Tonio and I shared when we were together. If it hadn’t been such a pain in the ass to get a new one, I would have changed my number after the divorce. And moved too, but cheap housing was hard to come by. Which is how he’d found me again to begin with.
“Willem and I have everything arranged,” he said as I paced my small living room. “We’ll be in Pandalus by the end of the week, so you can relax.”
What was left of my chewed fingernails cut into my palms as I squeezed my hands closed. “Relax?” I pressed the earpiece closer to my head. Surely I’d misheard him. “A lawman comes sniffing around my office, and you want me to relax?”
He drew a breath and, knowing Tonio, made a great effort not to sigh exasperation into the comm, which would have really irked me. “You haven’t done anything. Knowing we did the Milchner job would get you a slap on the wrist, if that. I can almost guarantee they won’t get us on it.”
“‘Almost’ isn’t good enough,” I said. “I haven’t spent a minute in custody since I was fifteen. I’m not going to screw that up now.”
The worst I’d ever experienced was a night in juvie. Word of advice: Have a reliable lookout when running a teenage pyramid scam out of your neighbor’s basement. I’d managed to talk my way out of serious trouble, but staying awake all night to avoid being beaten or sexually assaulted by my cellmates made me determined never to get pinched again. Though it wasn’t bad enough to stop me from doing what got me there in the first place. I just needed to be smarter about it.
The idea of being sent to the CCM or the facility on Deemers, even for a slap on the wrist, made me shiver. I didn’t like enclosed, dark places where the roof might fall in on you, and the “camaraderie” of Deemers didn’t appeal to me in the least. I’d met ex-cons who came out of there with horror stories about the loyalty rites of various prison gangs. No thank you.
“You won’t get caught,” he said confidently. “You have my word.”
“Yeah, well, your word and a couple of credits—” I stopped myself before another round of Bash Tonio’s Character could begin. I had more important things to focus my energy on, and I’m sure he was tired of it, as well.
His tension seemed to vibrate over the line, waiting for me to lash out.
I drew a deep breath and released it slowly. I’d chosen to go in on this caper; it was imperative I trust my partners. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”
“Thank you.” His voice was quiet, relieved. “But until we leave, keep an eye out for Sterling. If anything feels off, call me right away.”
“But you just said—”
A knock at the door interrupted me. The A1 Food Emporium guy.
“Damn. Hang on. My dinner’s here.”
“It would be cheaper if you cooked for yourself.”
I ignored Tonio’s taunt. He knew I couldn’t have boiled water on Weaver, even with its 112ºC equatorial summers.
Barefoot, in my usual post-work attire of tank, shorts and a robe, I padded over to the table by the door and opened my wallet for my debit card. It was one of those pre-paid in cash, anonymous cards that couldn’t be linked to me. “Just a sec,” I called out.
I threw the locks and opened the door.
It wasn’t the A1 guy.
It wasn’t a guy at all.
Standing in the dim, faintly cheesy-smelling hallway was Sabine Braxton.
My mother.
She smiled and spread her arms wide. “Hiya, sweetie!”
I blinked twice to see if my vision was failing. It wasn’t. “Fuck me.”
Tonio’s voice came over the headset. “Is everything all right?”
My mother’s smile turned into a purse-lipped grimace as she lowered her arms. “Such language, Olivia. Please.”
Funny thing, coming from the woman who taught me such language.
“Liv?” Tonio sounded worried now.
“I’m fine. Gotta go.” I yanked off the headset and hit the disconnect. “Mom, what the hell are you doing here?”
She looked suspiciously innocent. “Can’t a mother simply come visit her daughter?”
“Considering I haven’t seen you for nine years? No. Who’s after you?” Careful to expose as little of myself as possible, I leaned into the hall and glanced toward the stairwell. No lurking shadows or pounding feet, though that didn’t mean much.
She didn’t appear harried or panicked. In fact, her blond hair was delicately coifed, her clothing tasteful and fashionable. She certainly didn’t look like the grifter who’d raised me. She looked…respectable. But knowing Mom, she probably had a sweet little high-voltage—and highly illegal—stunner in one of her pockets to go with her trendy togs.
Mom crossed her arms and gave me an indignant glare. “Just because I drop in unannounced doesn’t mean I’m in trouble.” Her features softened to—could it be?—motherly concern. “I wanted to see how you were after your terrible divorce.”
Okay. Something was up.
I quirked an eyebrow at her. “It wasn’t terrible. It was three years ago. I’m over it.” Mostly.
“I know. I’m late, and I’m sorry. Travel from the Core takes time.” The motherly concern was amended to include slight confusion. “Didn’t you get my messages?”
“You mean like the one that said, ‘Too bad about you and Tino—I’m off to New Brazil’? Yeah, I got them.”
She hadn’t met Tonio and never got his name right the few times we’d exchanged messages. I hadn’t sent pictures, but that was for our own protection more than anything else.
She gave a breathy sigh and shook her head. “I’d just married Monty, and we were going on our honeymoon. I didn’t want to rub your nose in my new relationship.”
More likely, she was trying to keep this Monty guy from finding out she had a daughter old enough to be divorcing. A good portion of Mom’s income went to cosmetic tunings and sub-dermal nanos. She looked more like my fair-skinned twin than my mother.
“Who’s Monty, and where is he now?” Maybe he was the one after her.
She sniffed in disdain and planted her hands on her hips. “Monty is persona non grata as far as I’m concerned. Now, are you going to invite me in or are we going to inflict our troubles on your neighbors?”
Mrs. Halverson’s door clicked closed softly. A thump and a muffled curse came from Cheese Man’s flat.
I rubbed my suddenly aching temple. “Sure, come on in.”
Mom bent down and reached toward the wall. For a second I thought she was performing a bizarre greeting ritual she’d picked up somewhere, but then I saw the suitcase in her hand. My heart skipped a beat—not in a good way—and I think I made a sort of choked gasping sound.
Her gaze darted between my wide-eyed stare and the case. “Relax,” she said as she breezed past me into the living room. “I promise I won’t be a burden.”
That was the second time in five minutes someone had told me I should relax. And the second time I didn’t believe it.
I shut the door and threw the locks. A touch of panic fluttered in my chest. “Mom, you aren’t thinking of staying with me, are you?”
“I told you I wouldn’t be a burden.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
She set her suitcase beside the couch and sat with a sigh. “I’m sure I can find a place. Somewhere.”
Crap.
Sabine Braxton was my mother by accident of birth. She’d raised me in an environment of cons, petty crimes and disregard for almost everything legal. She’d used me for several of her scams while I was growing up and left me with the neighbors for a week or so at a time upon occasion. For what, God only knew, and I never asked. But she was my mother.
I dropped onto the other end of the couch. “No, it’s okay. You can sta
y here. I’m heading out of town anyway.”
I realized what I’d said as her blue eyes brightened. “Where are you going? What are you doing?”
I shot up from my seat and started picking up clutter in the living room. If I made eye contact she’d know I was up to something. “It’s just a trip. Nothing exciting.”
Mom came around the couch to step in front of me. I had no choice but to stop, or I’d run into her. Knowledge of my dodge glinted in her eyes.
“Never try to con a con, Olivia.” Her mouth curved into a half smile. “I taught you that practically from the day you were born.”
I tilted my head and returned the same smile. “You also taught me not to blab about a job to the wrong people.”
She chucked me under the chin with one perfectly manicured finger. “I’m not the wrong people, darling, I’m your mother. What’s the gig?”
I stepped away from her and tightened the sash of my robe. “I really can’t say. And don’t give me that ‘oh sure you can’ look, because if I tell you I’ll get both of us in trouble.” I gave her my best no-nonsense glare. “Serious trouble. So don’t ask.”
She held her hands up in acquiescence. “Okay, okay. I’ll let it go.” She lowered her hands and moved toward the couch. “Have you ordered dinner? I’m starving.”
Uh-oh. That was too easy. She was up to something, something other than needing a place to sleep.
“It’s on its way,” I said just as a knock sounded.
Maybe some latent precognition talent of mine was emerging. Nah. If it had been, I would have known not to answer the door when Mom knocked.
As I flicked the debit card against my thigh and headed to the door, a disturbing thought flashed through my brain. I turned to her. “Mom, how did you know where to find me? I never, ever, give anyone this address. Even the food guy doesn’t know my name.”
She winked and tapped the side of her nose with her finger. “Never underestimate the power of a mother searching for her child, Olivia. Now answer the door before our dinner gets cold.”
Mom and I were halfway through our chicken marsala and eying the chocolate lava cake—I usually ordered enough food to take to work the next day, so there was plenty for the two of us—when someone pounded on my door.
“Liv? Liv, are you all right?” Tonio’s voice sounded worried over the noise.
“Cripes,” I said, springing up from the couch. “This flat is turning into Hub Station Two.”
He shoved the door open as I threw the last lock, knocking me back against the wall.
“Tonio, take it easy.”
His eyes were bright, and the color on his dusky cheeks told me he’d run up the three flights of stairs. “Are you okay? You didn’t answer when I tried to call you back.” His right hand was tucked under his jacket, behind his back, as he scanned the living room. I was certain he had some kind of gun in his waistband. His gaze fell on my mother and his eyes narrowed. “Who’s that?”
Mom blotted her lips with a thin paper napkin sporting the A1 Food Emporium logo. She stood and smiled brightly as she walked toward Tonio, her hand extended. “Sabine Montgomery.”
Montgomery? Oh, right. My latest stepfather. Or ex-stepfather, as the case may have been. I straightened my robe as the two of them shook hands.
“A pleasure to meet you Mister…?”
“Calderon.”
Recognition glimmered in my mother’s eyes. She dropped his hand as if it were leprous. “Tonio Calderon. Of course.”
As if she actually remembered his name. One minute she’s ready to dazzle a tall, dark and handsome stranger; the next she’s sneering at her ex son-in-law.
I shook my head and shut the door. “Tonio, for what it’s worth, this is my mother.”
“I’ve heard much about you,” he said with a faux pleasant smile.
I’d given Tonio a rundown of my upbringing. My mother didn’t come off as the most maternal creature in the ‘Verse. Her methods had been somewhere between the “let them fend for themselves” behavior of a sea turtle depositing eggs in a sandy hole and the “eat the slow ones” action of a New Brazil piranha.
At least he didn’t say he’d heard she was a crappy parent. Which he had.
“I thought you and my daughter were divorced, Mr. Calderon.” Translation: You are no longer a viable part of this familial unit, such that it is, so what brings your sorry ass here? Mom returned to the table and lifted her glass of wine. She glared at Tonio over the rim as she sipped.
“We are,” he said, glancing between the two of us. “I ran into Liv a couple of weeks ago, and we’ve decided to try being friends. Let bygones be bygones and all that.”
Nice story, dear, but I doubted Mom would bite.
“So you expect her to just forget the two of you ever had an intimate relationship? That you were supposed to spend the rest of your lives together, but instead you gallivant off and expect her to twiddle her thumbs and wait for you to grace her with your presence?” Mom’s eyes had taken on a fevered glint as she ranted.
Tonio and I exchanged glances. I could almost hear him asking the same question that formed in my head: What the hell is she talking about?
My mother never got upset over the idiosyncrasies of men. Never. What was going on here?
“Then, when you finally come home, you tell her you met some little chippy. That she’s changed your world. That you’re moving to Kennecott to start an organic pig farm with her. And you don’t even like bacon!” She cocked her arm, as if to throw the glass against the wall.
I lunged forward to grab her arm and the wineglass. “All right, Mom, that’s enough.” I pried the goblet out of her hand and set it on the table. “Why don’t you go lie down for a bit?” Holding her arm by her side, I guided her toward the bedroom.
She leaned against me, her tirade having sucked some energy out of her body. She’d always been a thin woman, but she felt fragile beneath my hands. “I-I’m sorry, Olivia,” she said, her voice a rough whisper.
This was not the same woman who used people—men, especially—until they were emotionally and financially depleted then tossed them aside. I wasn’t sure what happened in the last few years, but something had changed. Something, or someone, had hit her low and hard.
“It’s okay. You’ve had a long trip.” I opened the bedroom door and the light automatically glowed just bright enough to see the furniture. “Get some sleep.”
She slid her shoes off and curled up onto her side on my unmade bed. I straightened the covers and brought them up over her shoulders. Tears pooled in the corner of her eye, spilled over the bridge of her nose. I barely resisted the impulse to back away. My mother was crying, and I had no idea what to do for her.
“I’m sorry,” she said again and sniffed. She used the edge of the blanket to wipe her eyes.
Tentatively, I reached out and stroked her soft blond hair. “It’s okay. I’ll be out in the living room if you need anything.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. I watched her for several minutes. Her breathing became even with sleep, and the tension lines in her face smoothed a bit. Had she ever watched me sleep when I was a kid? Maybe when I was an infant, but I didn’t recall any nighttime tucking-in rituals.
I left the room, gently closing the door behind me.
Tonio was sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. He straightened as I sat beside him. “She okay?”
I shrugged and shook my head. Who knew with her?
“Too much wine?”
Anger flared in my chest. “No, it sounded to me like she’s hurting. Hurting pretty damn bad.”
Tonio leaned away from me. “Calm down, Liv.”
“I won’t calm down.” I stood and stalked about the room, the need to break something nearly overwhelming me. “Something, someone, hurt her, and you think she’s just some raving drunk?”
“I didn’t say that.”
I spun to face him, my breathing fast and shallow. Since
when did I get caught up in my mother’s antics? It was insane, not like me at all. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and released it slowly.
For all I knew, she was putting on an elaborate show to gain my sympathy. Before she knocked on my door, I wouldn’t have put it past her for a second. She played people for a living. Even me at times.
But something in her gaze, in the break of her voice as she ranted, told me she was sincere.
I opened my eyes. Tonio stood before me, uncertainty on his face while his body braced for my reaction. Did he think I was going to hit him? Cry? Both?
Neither.
I scrubbed my hands over my face and took another deep breath. “Sorry. I just don’t know what to make of her.”
“Do you think she’s pulling something?”
My fists and jaws clenched at his second insult toward my mother, but I let the anger go. Hell, I’d thought the very same thing not a minute earlier. He’d heard what Sabine was like, so I couldn’t blame him for asking.
“I don’t know,” I said shaking my head. “She and her husband split, that much is certain, and not very amicably by the sounds of it.”
Tonio ran a hand through his hair. “No shit.” He took a half step toward me. “Want me to stick around?”
“No.” I raised an eyebrow. “Why did you come all the way over here? Did you think I was in trouble?”
Color rose on his cheeks. He shrugged. “You didn’t pick up. I was concerned. Maybe Sterling found you or something.”
“It’s so nice to know you care.”
He’d said he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. It was good to know that included Sterling coming after me, as well as any potential problems from the job.
“Only because we have to get you into Talbot’s office next week,” he said as he walked to the door. “Exeter has approved your personnel file. It’s too late to get someone else.”
Uh-huh.
He started throwing the locks. “Your mother isn’t going to be an issue, is she?”
“I’ll take care of her.” Which meant I’d make sure she didn’t jeopardize the job, not that I’d hold her hair back if she started vomiting. I wasn’t the nurturing type.
