School of Fish

by Amy Lane

  “He kept saying you were on your way,” he said as they approached.

  “We apologize,” Ellery said. “There was an incident at the jail, and we were held up.”

  Henry squinted at him. “Who hit you?”

  “That’s the incident,” Jackson said grimly. “And one of the guards hit him.”

  “Hit Ellery?” Henry asked in surprise. “I would have thought it would’ve been you!”

  “It was supposed to be me,” Jackson retorted. “But I ducked and Ellery—”

  “Didn’t,” Ellery said with a brief smile that still hurt. “It’s not Jackson’s fault I irritated the guard.”

  “And it’s not Ellery’s fault that he was taking payoffs to beat on a seventeen-year-old kid who had no business being there,” Jackson rasped. “Junior,” he said to Henry, “I hope you’re ready to run your ass off tomorrow. We have got some plans.”

  Henry nodded, looking very sober. “But before that happens….”

  “How is he?” Ellery asked. “You said he was asking for us?”

  “He is,” Lance told them. He looked at the watch on his wrist and made a frustrated sound. “I’m on my break. I can get you in, but not for long. I’m sort of working here.”

  “We appreciate your help,” Jackson said. “Maybe Dave and Alex can take over?” Ellery looked at Henry and saw his grin.

  “I am just crushing it with the catering today,” Henry said. “Ice cream for the pregnant cop, pizza for the nurses. I should change my career.”

  “Did any of those people tip?” Jackson asked, at the same time Lance said, “I bet it would be safer!”

  Henry smirked. “No, nobody tipped, and yes, yes it would be safer, but I would be both broke and bored, so I think Jackson’s right and I should stay with my current job.”

  Lance rolled his eyes. “Of course Jackson’s right,” he muttered. “But if one of your nurse friends can come supervise, you can stay a little longer. C’mon.”

  He turned and beckoned to them to follow him across the corridor, but not before a harsh voice called out from the full waiting room.

  “Rivers! What in the hell are you doing here?” An older officer, still in uniform, charged out of the room.

  Jackson turned, his expression neutral. “Kryzynski asked for me.”

  “I’ll just bet he did. Aren’t you the one who got him stabbed in the first place?”

  Ellery bet the other cop didn’t see it, the tightening around Jackson’s eyes, the slight softness to Jackson’s lower lip. The shaft had hit home, but nobody was going to know Jackson Rivers was bleeding.

  “Interesting that you’re only wondering about that now,” Henry said, moving up to Jackson’s other side. “’Cause when we were at your precinct, not a soul had heard about it.”

  Jackson turned slowly to Henry with big eyes and a slightly parted mouth. “Henry,” he said, voice toneless.

  But Henry was unstoppable. “We couldn’t even get your two flatfoots to call a detective and do forensics on a doorknob that had prints at the scene. But we show up because an injured detective wants to talk to us and suddenly you’re interested? Damn, son—talk about a day late and a dollar short.”

  “Henry,” Jackson rasped.

  “You think you rate talking to a detective in the hospital, you little punk?” the officer snarled. “We did not know. That is not our fault!”

  Jackson’s head snapped around. “No, but it’s somebody’s. Communication in your department is for shit, Carruthers. I don’t give a damn who’s in charge, but if your patrol officers can’t maintain protocol, what good are they?”

  The officer, Carruthers, had tanned skin and what had probably been ginger hair, bleached thin and blond by too much time outside. He narrowed his eyes at Jackson, and Lance grabbed Jackson and Henry both by the shoulders and yanked them around, herding them toward the unit itself. When he got there, he waved his ID in front of a sensor, and the heavy barred doors swung open to let them all in, Ellery bringing up the rear.

  “Henry,” Jackson and Lance both growled at the same time.

  “Don’t let them talk to you like that,” Henry muttered back to Jackson.

  Jackson closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose even as he dodged a piece of medical equipment that Ellery couldn’t name but after all of Jackson’s time in the ICU looked unsurprisingly familiar.

  “Henry, I told you to forge some relationships with the police department,” Jackson said, voice despairing. “You can’t do that when you take some old fart’s head off for being an old fart!”

  Ellery held back a laugh. Well, he did have a point.

  “I did forge a relationship,” Henry complained. “That desk sergeant wants to have my baby now, on top of the one she’s about to push out.”

  Lance stopped them in front of a sliding glass door that led into an almost spacious cubicle. There were two stuffed chairs, an office chair, and a love seat in there, along with a small unit designed for visiting family to set their things on.

  The office chair was occupied by a giant of a man, well over six feet tall, with iron gray hair and a weathered, fortyish face, who was leaning forward, hands dangling between his knees, really working a scowl of irritation.

  As Lance let them into the room, the stranger stood and said, “Here’s your new crew, Sean. I hope they treat you right.”

  “Jesse,” Kryzynski murmured in a thin whisper. “Don’t be mad.”

  The man, who was wearing a dark blue SFD T-shirt and what had to be big and tall jeans, shook his head. “I’m not mad,” he said. “Just disappointed. I’ll be by tomorrow.”

  He stalked out, glaring at Jackson on his way, and Ellery suppressed a wince. Well, one day back and Jackson had made more enemies than friends without even trying.

  Of course he had.

  “Ouch,” Jackson said, taking the vacated office chair and moving it closer to Kryzynski’s bed. He didn’t sit down right away but instead engaged in one of those complicated masculine handshakes that Ellery had never gotten the hang of. Sean seemed to know how to do it, though, because he made languid hand motions as Jackson pulled in to an abbreviated mock chest bump, and he smiled when Jackson had finished.

  Testosterone levels in room: restored.

  Henry took one of the club chairs near the wall, and Ellery sank into the one nearest Jackson.

  “How we doing?” Jackson asked, and then—because this was one of his strengths—he sat back and listened.

  “Fabulous,” Sean wheezed, still sedated, blue eyes sleepy. His blond hair, usually a thick shock of it, combed into submission, was plastered to his forehead, and his color was so pale he was almost gray against his sheets. “Was so jealous of Rivers getting that two-month vacation. Had to take one of my own.”

  “Two months for a punctured lung?” Jackson asked.

  “And a hemothorax,” Lance corrected. “They spent two hours draining the blood out of his pleural cavity and closing off bleeders before they could reinflate the lung. He’s got four bright and shiny new pints of blood in his body. How’s that feel, Mr. Kryzynski?”

  “Like it needs more morphine,” Sean said woozily.

  “Pussy,” Jackson murmured affectionately, and Sean managed a slight smile.

  “Who hit me with the pigsticker?” he asked. “I owe him one.”

  “We’ll be sure to pay up,” Jackson said. “And you remember us talking about the kid who was at both crime scenes?”

  Sean closed his eyes. “Ziggy,” he said. “Great. I got knifed by some asshole named Ziggy.” He took a few breaths that seemed to exhaust him. “My taste in criminals is almost as awesome as my taste in boyfriends.”

  “I cannot comment on that,” Jackson said, and Ellery returned his speaking glance. Whatever had gone on between them, it had not looked like things were going well. Jackson turned back to Kryzynski, and Ellery noticed that the skin around Jackson’s eyes was so tight, Ellery could see a vein throbbing in his forehead.


  Great.

  “I don’t have the breath,” Sean wheezed. “Rivers, not your fault. You warned—” He took another struggling breath. “—me.”

  “We dragged you into this bullshit,” Jackson said grimly. “We’ll do you right. You should see the waiting room. Wall to wall cops. They love you in there.”

  Kryzynski smiled faintly. “That’s sweet. My partner has been yelling at me in text for two hours. Seems to think—” Long breath. “—I left him the boring stuff to do something… exciting.”

  “Little does he know of the enforced boredom of the next two months,” Jackson told him grimly. Ellery tapped him on the knee, and Jackson nodded. “Look, Sean, we’ve got about a minute before Lance here drags us out by the ear.”

  Lance grimaced and nodded, but at that moment, he spotted someone beyond the door.

  “You’ve got two now,” he said, and Ellery watched as a tall, muscular man with pale brown skin and dark pinpoint freckles walked into the cubicle. Lance nodded at Henry, who waved him out and then took a moment to smile and wink at one of Jackson’s favorite nurses.

  “Dave,” Jackson said. “How you doing?”

  “Shocked,” Dave said, holding an elegant hand to his heart for a moment before beginning his activities at Kryzynski’s monitors. “I am stunned and shocked that it’s not you lying here, baby. But not disappointed.”

  Kryzynski’s mouth opened in what would normally have been a short bark of laughter. “He keeps hogging… all of the attention.”

  “He does,” Dave told Sean. “Damned inconsiderate of him. But I’m betting you wish he’d found other ways to share.”

  Sean actually managed a full smile. “Damned… straight.”

  “We shared the case with you before you got shish kebabbed,” Jackson told him. His voice was steady, chiding even, but Ellery could see how every heartbeat in this place was taking its toll. “Is there anything you can tell us about this guy before we go?”

  “Good teeth,” Kryzynski said. “Super straight. Smelled… like a businessman. And chalk.”

  “Wow,” Jackson said, admiration tinging his voice. “You are a good detective.”

  “Don’t… be an ass.”

  “No,” Henry said from his place by the wall. “That’s good info. Jackson and I can put together some things with that.”

  “Was there anything else?” Ellery urged.

  Sean’s eyes were at half-mast, and he was gazing at Ellery with dreamy focus.

  “You’re so pretty,” he said.

  Ellery gave Dave a pointed glance. “Did you up his morphine?”

  Dave shrugged, unrepentant. “He was about fifteen minutes past due. We don’t like post-op patients to hurt, right?”

  “Not a problem,” Jackson said, pulling in a shaky breath. “Another hit for my friend here.” Jackson stood up, bent over, and squeezed Sean’s hand gently. “We are friends, right?”

  Sean gave one of those dreamy smiles. “I’m in the club. Did you hear that, Nurse Dave? I’m in the club!”

  Dave gave him an isn’t-he-precious look. “I know, sweetie. But I gotta tell you, the dues are a bitch.”

  “But I’m in the club.” Sean’s eyes were almost closed, and Jackson gave a “follow me” nod. They all paused outside the door, waiting for Dave to record his vitals and make sure he was sleeping comfortably before he came out too.

  “He’s going to be okay, right?” Jackson asked as Dave was sliding the door shut behind him.

  “He should be,” Dave murmured back. “You know how these things go, baby. Barring infection and embolism and all the other nasties that can attack post-op, he should be just fine.”

  Jackson swallowed and nodded. “Good. You know, he’s—”

  “In the club,” Dave said softly. “I’ve met him at your house, Jackson. We’ll do him right.”

  “Thanks, Dave.” Jackson gave a weak smile. “I’ll take any updates you or Alex can give me.”

  “Thanks for the food, sugar.” Dave gave a wink, and Jackson shrugged.

  “That was all Henry. He’s like a mama bear, I swear. Feeding everybody. It’s embarrassing.”

  Henry gave him a killing look, and Dave shooed them off. “Go. We’ll tag you later.”

  Ellery turned to follow them, but Dave stopped him with a look. “Your boy okay?” he asked, eyes flicking to Jackson.

  “Hospitals,” Ellery said briefly. “But he had to come.”

  “Yeah. You know, you could have a shrink prescribe half a valium for him—” He broke off and rolled his eyes, as though he’d just heard what he’d said. “Or not,” he muttered. “It is just as well that boy didn’t end up here this go-round. I think he’s done all the time he possibly can.”

  Ellery nodded. “Yeah, well, keeping him healthy is a full-time job.”

  “Good thing you’re on it,” Dave told him, winking.

  “Thanks for keeping an eye out for Sean. It’ll help Jackson sleep.”

  Dave grinned. “Just invite us to the next do. Practically made our year!”

  “Ours too.” Ellery gave a brief nod and strode through the ICU, catching up with Henry and Jackson at the corridor. What he was thinking was that he and Jackson should have another party, because the people in their lives seemed to enjoy them and because Jackson was always so bemused to find he had friends.

  What he walked into was a strategy session.

  “The jail to get Tage Dobrevk out,” Henry said.

  “Check.”

  “Jenny Probst’s office to ask who knew about the file.”

  “Check.”

  “Ty Townsend’s place to ask him who was at the party.”

  “Check.”

  “His best friend’s place to get his story.”

  “Check.”

  “Tage’s parents to figure out where his brother and sister went.”

  “Check.”

  “I thought you said they were Russian,” Henry replied with a straight face.

  Jackson’s eyes widened. “I will beat you,” he said, perfectly serious. “I will beat you and feed what’s left of you to my cat.”

  “There won’t be anything left of me after you drag me all these places. Dammit, Jackson, split the fucking check here!”

  Jackson turned to Ellery. “Bad news, Ellery. I’m about to turn our junior PI into cat food.”

  Ellery tried to appear bored, but he really wanted to give Henry a raise. “Jackson and I will deal with Tage’s family,” he said before pointing at Henry. “You take Ty Townsend.”

  “What do you mean, we?” Jackson asked, startled.

  “I need to be there when they release Tage, and you need to talk to his family. You can drop me off at the office after that, and you and Henry can compare notes.”

  “I don’t like this plan,” Jackson announced. “Henry—”

  “Isn’t stupid,” Ellery said shortly. They strode past the corridor where the police were still congregating, waiting on news from Sean.

  Jackson took a breath. “I’ll be back.”

  Ellery made a sound of dissent, but Jackson was already on his way.

  “Let him,” Henry said softly. “He’ll feel better. He’s not okay with Kryzynski being here.”

  “So he lets those assholes beat on him and that makes it okay?” Ellery snarled.

  “Yeah,” Henry said with a shrug. “A little.”

  Ellery was afraid that if he rolled his eyes, one of them would pop out. “I am underwhelmed by that logic,” he muttered, and at that moment, raised voices down the corridor stopped them both.

  They heard the ruckus, and the clatter, and then Jackson came flying out the door, stopped by the wall on the other side of the corridor. He ran a hand over his mouth, and looked at the back of it, grimacing a little at what he saw. Then he glared back in through the open door and snarled.

  “Somebody get that man some ice!”

  And with that, he turned around and walked back to them, split lip bleeding, and a brui
se by his eye growing puffy as they watched.

  “We can go now,” he said, not looking back. Henry and Ellery kept pace with him as they headed for the entrance.

  “You had to,” Ellery said, irritation dripping from his voice.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Couldn’t not do that.”

  “Nope.”

  Ellery let out a long breath, and Henry said, “How bad was the other guy?”

  “Heh heh heh heh heh….”

  As they burst out of the front glass doors into the balmy night, the security guards at the entrance glaring at them suspiciously, Ellery noted that Jackson’s pallor was much closer to normal, and the tightness around his eyes had eased.

  Well, maybe some men needed valium, he guessed.

  Some men did not.

  “God!” Jackson burst out, running a hand through his hair. “Is it really this late?”

  “After eight,” Henry told him with a yawn. “It’s been a bitch of a day.”

  Jackson eyed him with concern. “You’re going home now, right?”

  Henry lifted a shoulder. “Movie night with the flophouse guys. I’ll probably crash on their couch until Lance gets home.”

  “Good,” Jackson said. “Get some food, get some rest. Text me when you’re on your way to Jenny Probst’s. I want to know what you come up with.”

  “Deal. After you get Tage situated, we can meet at the office and go from there.”

  Jackson nodded and was going to head to the parking structure when it was obvious Henry was turning toward the lot. “Henry,” he said before they split.

  “Yeah?”

  “Be safe.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “Get some sleep, Rivers. Aren’t you still on leave?”

  And with that he moved off to his vehicle, leaving Jackson and Ellery to continue toward the parking structure.

  “Just had to,” Ellery said grimly into the silence.

  “Shut up.”

  “Couldn’t let me have the bruises, could you?”

  “You got the bruises. There was enough to share.”

  Ellery snorted. “Thought it would make you look prettier, right?”

  “I didn’t do it for attention,” Jackson muttered.