“Actually,” she said, taking a plastic bag out of the huge tote she carried, “I’ve decided you should have them.”
“Oh,” I said. “A souvenir!” I laughed. She had gotten them back from the hospital, she said, and washed them several times, and actually ironed them.
“Like new,” she said. “Don’t think of them as bad luck. These jeans brought you good luck. When you were wearing these, you survived something that you really shouldn’t have.”
“Yikes,” I said. I looked at the jeans. “Not sure I like that phrasing. But thank you.”
“I’ve got to bust a move,” she said. “I’m due on shift in a couple of hours.” She stood and stretched, and something in the way she did it told me she was doing it for my benefit. I wanted to tell her that while I have nothing against girl-on-girl action, it’s also not really my particular thing. Even if I had any desire to play around, with anyone. Which I didn’t. But, I did like her, and flirting is harmless. I let it pass. “So don’t think you’re going to get away from us forever,” she said. My senses were so highly tuned, it almost sounded like a threat. “We’ll catch Mary Dowe and her husband, and whoever else was involved in this, and you’ll have to come and testify, most likely. You can stay at the cottage again. It won’t be so scary next time,” she said. “And now you know you don’t need an axe to go into our basement.”
“That would be great,” I said. “I never got to go for a swim.”
“Think you’ll be able to stay away from drugs when you get home?” She was delaying leaving.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m going to try.”
“Honest, at least.”
“At least.” Then she did what I knew she’d been working up to. She walked over and kissed me, gently, on the mouth. And I did the thing you do when someone you like kisses you and you don’t really want it – not exactly responding but not pushing her away either. Letting her save face, but at the same time not leading her on.
Oh yeah. That’s me. A chick magnet. But really, men and women aren’t that different, in my opinion. A few different body parts here, hormones there, but most people just want a connection with another human being. I was attracted to what I was attracted to, which usually came in a package with a penis and more testosterone.
Of course, that was the exact moment Laurence chose to walk in. Because that’s the way my life works.
“Oh, gracious me,” he said. “Sorry, girls.” He hesitated in the doorway, but it was for show. He didn’t want to miss a minute of my discomfort. Brothers.
“Get in here, you asshole,” I said. “Debbie was just saying goodbye.”
“I was saying see you later,” she said. She was acting cool, but she was blushing. She grabbed her tote, hesitated, then kissed Laurence on the cheek. “I’m sorry you two had to go through this. It really is a nice place to live.”
She was halfway out the door, and I called her name. She turned around.
“Why is your cottage traditional on the ground floor and painted lilac and green stripes on the second?” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t asked her yet, but there had been more pressing matters.
She smiled, a real genuine smile, and it made me really hope she had nothing to do with any of the violence. “It was a gift from my dad. I came out a couple of years ago. He had a really hard time with it for a few months. But then he went to a couple of support groups and tried to embrace the whole ‘having a gay kid’ thing, so he did that.”
“That’s… lovely,” Laurence said. He had a huge grin on his face.
“I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was hideous and clichéd. He’s a good dad.”
“You’re lucky,” I said. “Thanks again for everything.”
She waved, and was gone. Laurence just looked at me, his eyebrows waggling like crazy.
“Oh, shut up,” I said. He started singing the Katy Perry song, “I Kissed A Girl,” and I threw my jeans at him.
“Never mind your sordid love life,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s hit the road. Blow this pop stand. Make like trees and leave.”
On the way out to the car, Laurence told me that until we got back to the house, we should be careful what we said. He had just rented it, but it had sat alone in the parking lot for half an hour, and Dave was urging extreme caution. He had some kind of device that detected bugs, or whatever, he said, and once we got there we’d be able to talk freely. He warned me that we’d be taking a long route to the house Dave had rented, to make sure nobody was following us. But there were so few cars on the road, he said, especially now that the tourists had mostly gone, that anybody tailing us would stick out.
It was another gorgeous day, and I was alive. Laurence seemed in good spirits, despite everything, and I felt more secure knowing that Dave was with us. It was the most relaxed I’d been since the morning I found the hand in the mailbox. It felt like a year ago.
And, I could hear. I could hear perfectly, in both ears. I wouldn’t say it was worth what had happened to me, but it did make me feel more alive. And safer. Definitely safer.
Laurence had rented an SUV, a black Chevy Tahoe.
“This isn’t your normal kind of ride, brother,” I said. “But it fits you better.”
“I didn’t want to be on a long drive with you in a sports car,” he said, and winked. I knew it would also be because it would be less conspicuous around here. I had vaguely noticed that in my limited experience thus far, the east coast of Canada was like Maine – the residents liked their cars domestic.
We drove out of the town of Kentville, and seemed to be in no particular hurry and with no agenda in mind. I didn’t care much. It was a beautiful drive. I closed my eyes and daydreamed, lulled into a blessed feeling of safety. We drove into a pretty little area called Hall’s Harbor. It was on the water, and there was a place selling lobsters. The beach was rocky, and the tide was out.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Laurence said. “Buy a lobster. I came all this way.” There were no other cars in the parking lot.
“It wasn’t far from here,” he said as we walked across gravel toward the restaurant and gift shop. I stopped.
“That they found me?” I looked around, not that it would do me any good at all. Laurence nodded.
We stood looking out at the water like tourists, but I wanted to leave. Get back in the car and leave. I owed my life to those lobster fishermen, and I was going to do something to thank them before I left the Valley, but I didn’t want to go into this place. I could have been food for the lobsters if the killers had had their way, and I doubted I’d ever eat one again.
“Why are we here?” I said. It felt almost cruel, for Laurence to bring me close to where I’d almost died, so recently.
“A couple of reasons.” Laurence lit a cigarette, and I took one from his pack and lit it too. It tasted disgusting; I hadn’t had one for a while. But I was enjoying it nonetheless. Ah, addiction, thy name is Danny. “I wanted to see if anyone was following us. And I wanted to see if you recognized anything, or felt anything, or… anything.”
I stepped away from him and walked a bit. I smoked my cigarette and tried to clear my mind, let my crocodile brain take over. I closed my eyes and smelled the air.
I walked back to Laurence, shaking my head, but he was checking out a car that had pulled in to the small parking area. A minute later, a nice-looking young couple got out, and released three small children from their tethers in the back seat.
“Nope,” I said. “They didn’t do it. I’m fairly sure. Though that kid, he’s got a look about him.” One of them, about three years old, had obviously been confined in the car too long. He was picking gravel up and flinging it in the air like Mary Tyler Moore with her beret. “I’d watch that one.”
Laurence asked if I minded if he ran into the gift shop. He needed to pick something up for Antonio, he said, some souvenir, and what better place?
“Than where I was nearly murdered? You sentimentalist.” I took his cigarettes f
rom him and snapped my fingers for the lighter. The healthy-looking couple frowned at me. How dare I smoke, in the open air, where their precious children might catch half a whiff as they walked by? I had a sudden urge to flick a lit cigarette at the woman, but I refrained. I’m classy that way.
While Laurence went inside, I wandered back to the car. I realized I still had dressings on my wrists, and my face looked like I had road rash. Combined with the smoking, all I needed was a neck tattoo and this woman would probably be hustling her progeny back into the car.
I knew we weren’t going to leave until we had more answers or until Dickie was found. Now Dave was with us, at least. And if I was going to be of any help at all, I needed to get my synapses firing properly. My rehab experience had been less than stellar, to put it mildly, and I knew I would have to deal with the problem later. I still wanted crack. I wanted it like I wanted water. Not as badly as I did once, it was true. The need was less, but the desire was just as strong.
Crack wasn’t the best drug for thinking. Sometimes I could do it. I could react quickly. I had proven that in Maine, but I had also done my best to curtail what could have been an all-out binge.
Cocaine, however – powdered coke – was what I needed now. If I wanted to get this over with, Laurence and Dave were just going to have to deal with it. My “recovery” could wait. Dickie was still missing, as was Des Murphy, Laurence had told me. Mary was gone, and I wasn’t yet fully convinced she had any real part in anything. And for whatever reason, Dave wasn’t trusting the police.
In the last week I had been shot at, found a dead body, plus a severed hand, had a severed head thrown at me, been covered in a dead cop’s blood, found an acquaintance who’d been eaten alive by animals, and been kidnapped and nearly horribly drowned. I’d suffered a dislocated shoulder, nerve damage in my hand, and contracted an infection that could have killed me in itself.
If anybody wanted me to be useful, I was going to need help. And the kind of help that I was used to.
When Laurence came out of the store clutching a plastic bag and waving a large stuffed lobster, I stopped him before we got into the car.
“You do not have the option of saying no,” I said to him. I gripped his arm and looked into his eyes. “If we’re going to do this, I am going to need some cocaine.”
To my great surprise, he only nodded. Sadly, but he nodded. “I know,” he said. “Dave’s taking care of it. In case you needed it,” he added.
“Oh,” I said. I’d had my argument all prepared, and I was so shocked, I found I had nothing to say.
He handed me the stuffed lobster, we got in the car, and drove.
TWENTY-SIX
We were silent in the car, Laurence and I. I was thinking about cocaine. I knew it was wrong, to be putting that thought above all else, the lives that were hanging in the balance. But, like any good addict, I rationalized my excitement. It would make me feel better. It would take away the body aches and pains that were distracting me.
And, for better or worse, as long as I didn’t overconsume, I would be sharper on it. My instincts were better. My brain made connections more quickly, and maybe, just maybe, we could get all of this over with.
And if Laurence and Dave were agreeing to this – and if Dave had indeed procured some cocaine for me – they knew it too.
We drove up one of the mountains that bracketed the Valley, but I didn’t recognize this area. More farmland, less forest. More manure smell, which made me think of taking the drive with Mary, the first night Laurence had arrived.
I would think about Mary later.
Laurence pulled into a driveway lined with cedar trees, past a Cape Cod-style house nestled well back from the road. I didn’t see another vehicle. Laurence put his fingers to his lips and got out of the car. I followed. I was tired. My throat was hurting again a bit, and I wondered if the infection was coming back. I wanted some tea with honey.
Laurence approached the back door and opened the case of a small touchpad with a key. He pushed in some digits and the door swung open.
And then I realized what Dave had meant by “modifications.” I highly doubted the homeowner had a security system that included a massive steel door that, until it swung open, looked like a regular, albeit large, wooden door. Laurence ushered me in, and, at first sight, the place was what one would expect. Pleasantly modern kitchen, with the usual granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances.
Laurence led me down into the sunken living room – the house was obviously built in the 70s – and pointed out the wireless security cameras. “That’s just the beginning,” he said. “Dave will explain the rest.” I heard a noise coming from down the hall where the bedrooms seemed to be. I grabbed Laurence’s arm and ran back to the kitchen to look for a knife.
“No, Danny,” he said. “That’s just Jonas.”
Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows. I just couldn’t do it as well as he could.
We walked down the hall, and despite Laurence’s obvious relaxation now that we were inside, I was tensing and relaxing my muscles, getting ready to fight. I made my breathing shallow to get my adrenaline pumping.
At the end of the hall, Laurence led me into what was obviously once a master bedroom. Now, it looked like Command Central, a mini war room. Jonas was a ridiculously handsome young guy in white denim overalls, who looked like he was about to go to his shift as a male stripper. He was on his hands and knees on the floor, doing something with cables.
“Hello,” I said. I’m witty like that, when faced with impossibly good-looking people.
“Oh, hey! You’re Danny!” Not only was he eye candy, but he was a gee-shucks nice guy. My instincts about people might not always work, but I had a feeling this kid was going to be making me herbal tea and begging me to eat a kale and quinoa salad very soon. He jumped to his feet nimbly and crossed the room, shaking my hand with both of his. “So, so great to meet you. Dave has told me so much about you, and of course we’ve been wondering if you would call. So eventually he took the bull by the horns, you know, and got in touch with your brother. Your other brother,” he said, flashing the smile at Laurence.
I was glad for all of us that Laurence was attracted to the elderly, because this much wattage could blind a person.
“We?” I said. I couldn’t help but like the guy. How could you not? It would be like disliking puppies or sunshine. But, we? “You and Dave, are you…?”
“I’m his partner, yeah,” he said. He went back to his cables; things were obviously moving quickly around here.
Laurence was looking at me very closely. I hoped my face didn’t betray the weird disappointment I felt, and didn’t want to feel, and in fact didn’t want to think about.
And where was my cocaine?
“Cool,” I said. “How long have you two been together?” And where is my cocaine?
“Oh, dude! Whoa. Not that kind of partner. Though as an enlightened, feminist male, I am not insulted that you would think that.” More smiles. More teeth that must have been whitened five minutes ago. “No, we just do our stuff together.” He indicated the room, the house, the situation as a whole, I supposed. “We have our areas of expertise. Dave’s the boss. He chooses what we’re doing, where we’re going, and why.”
“And Jonas is the savant when it comes to all things electronic, security… the stuff that keeps us – and our clients – alive.”
Dave was standing in the doorway. I hadn’t heard a thing, and supposedly my hearing was back up to par. But he was a pro, and my guard was totally down. In the last couple of minutes I felt safer than I had since… well, since before I got the call that my twin sister had died. My radar had gone quiet. What a blessed relief.
As far as I was concerned, I was moving into this house and never leaving. Get Skipper and Marie and Darren and the boys and even Fred out here. We’d build an extension. Get dogs.
Of course, the house was a rental. And we had the small matter of missing people and killers to find bef
ore we were safe. Before anybody around here was safe, as far as we knew.
Dave and I hugged, and I ignored Laurence’s eyebrows, which were threatening to fly off his face. Dave pulled away and held me at arm’s length, studying my face. “I can’t believe you got out of that,” he said. “You’re one tough cookie, Cleary.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “I have done nothing but fuck this up from start to finish.” And to top off the Best Week Ever, without warning, I burst into tears. And before I knew it, Laurence was hugging me and rocking me, and then Jonas was also hugging me, and Dave was patting me on my head.
Not my proudest moment.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “It’s just been…”
“No doubt,” Jonas said. He was rubbing my back. Normally I hate when strangers touch me, but sure enough, I found it soothing. I felt tea and kale coming any minute.
“And this is the first time in a long time that I’ve felt anything like safe. Or that I didn’t have to be on full alert. With all you guys here,” I finished lamely. “And I’m not that kind of woman,” I added. I looked at Dave. “You know that. It’s not about men taking care of me.”
I needed to shut up before I curled into the fetal position on the floor and begged them all to do just that.
“Danny,” Dave said slowly. “Do you remember what happened when you and I and Darren were in the desert?”
“When you conned us and took us prisoner? Hard to forget, buddy.”
“Yeah. And despite the fact that you had no weapon and I was holding a significant piece of hardware to your heads, you managed in a matter of seconds to break my nose and take my gun.” Then he tapped me on my face, lightly, where the abrasion was from working off the duct tape. “And a few days ago you managed, with a dislocated shoulder and no use of your limbs, to free yourself from certain death. You kept your head, and you survived.”
I didn’t want to tell him that I did the opposite of keeping my head. I had been operating on rage at the idea of leaving another legacy of violent death for my nephews.
Rehab Run Page 18
