by Matt Lincoln
I rolled my eyes. I still found it all a little ridiculous, even though I was now as invested as anyone else in the family. “Bertrand started it, and it just kept getting passed down from parent to child. I think it’s partly that it’s the only link we have to our roots and partly just the intrigue of it all. After all, who doesn’t like a good mystery?”
“Have you told the rest of the Greysons what Blair Haddow told you?” Cal asked.
I made a face and rubbed at the back of my head. “Not yet.”
“Why not?” they demanded. “It seems like something they’d want to know.”
“I want a truly solid lead first,” I explained defensively. “I spent a long time refusing to participate. That makes it sound like some kind of schoolyard game. But I feel like I need hard evidence before I admit that I’m joining in.”
“Are you embarrassed?” Lex asked, grinning.
“Fine, yes. I’m embarrassed,” I admitted, glaring at her even as her smile grew in size. “I never bothered to hide what I thought of their crusade. As soon as I admit that I’m investigating it, too, it’ll be all ‘I told you so’ and ‘Mr. I’m too Cool to Participate in Group Projects.’ They’ll never let me hear the end of it. Unless, hopefully, I bring them something actionable.”
“Well, we’ve got your back,” Cal said, including Lex in that statement.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Cal’s computer dinged, alerting them that it had finished its search for Ramirez’s plate. Cal spun back to their desk. “Alright, I’ve got to get back to it. I’ll let you know as soon as I turn something up.”
I clapped them on the shoulder in thanks, and then Lex and I left them to it, winding our way back upstairs.
“Looks like Cal found your plate,” I said to Ramirez, but he just grunted. I almost asked him what the hell his problem was, but I didn’t want him spilling it to the whole office if he did know my secret. So I shrugged and sat down and tried to start my own research on the Greyson Gem. I didn’t get very far. I was too tired to focus properly, and I kept getting distracted by this, that, and the next thing.
Cal appeared from their lab a few minutes later with a paper in hand. “For you,” they said, depositing it on Ramirez’s desk.
He glanced at it briefly, absorbing its key points in that one quick look. “Great. Thanks, Cal,” he said.
“Anyone else need anything?” Cal asked, but Lex and I shrugged. Cal bobbed his head from side to side. “Cool. Cool. I guess I’ll just go back to my little lair. Hey, what are you watching?” They pulled up a chair beside Lex’s desk, and she scooted over to make room for them.
I smiled faintly, looking back to my own computer. It was nice hanging out with people in amiable silence. Well, mostly amiable. Ramirez radiated purposeful disinterest my way, and it made my spine crawl if I focused on it too hard. But it was still nice to have people around yet not feel the need to fill the silence, simply existing within the same space.
Maybe fifteen minutes later, Rachel poked her head out her office door, a nervous expression on her face, and she rapped on the doorframe to get our attention. It wasn’t hard. I was playing solitaire, and I was pretty sure Lex was watching cat videos while Cal hovered over her shoulder. Ramirez was the only one actually doing work, going through an accountant’s phone records, searching for a connection to his target, and he didn’t want our help.
The four of us spun our chairs to face Rachel as she stepped fully out of her office. She hesitated on the threshold for just a second before she approached us, wringing her hands in front of her. She forced herself to push her arms to her sides, stopping just before our desks. We stared up at her, waiting for her to speak, though she seemed to have stalled out now that she was actually standing in front of us.
“What’s up, Rachel?” I asked, prompting her.
She jumped slightly and then nodded, using the motion to order her thoughts. “I need a favor, and it’s kind of a big one. It’s totally okay if you don’t feel comfortable doing it.” The caveat in place, she took a deep breath. “I have my second to last custody hearing tomorrow. I could use some character references and, well, general emotional support. I’m, uh, kind of freaking out.”
“Rachel, of course, we’ll help,” I said, speaking for the group as the others nodded in agreement. “We’re here for you. Anything you need.”
“Thanks.” Rachel huffed out a sigh of relief and smiled shakily, brushing an errant strand of blond hair from her face. “It’s been a stressful couple of months. I really need this to work out. I’m trying to get partial custody, but my ex doesn’t think I can even manage that with this job.” An angry bitterness tinged her voice, her fists flexing at her sides. Her eyes shone, and she blinked a couple of times. “She’s my daughter, too,” she murmured, and it was unclear if we were supposed to hear that.
“We won’t let you down,” Lex promised.
“Emphasize work-life balance, which I know isn’t exactly indicative of this job, but that’s what the judges want to hear.” Rachel rubbed at her face. “Sorry. I don’t mean to tell you what to say. I just… this means a lot to me.”
“How does it work?” I asked. “Will they ask us questions, or do they want us to prepare a statement?”
Rachel grabbed an extra chair and sat, her legs practically collapsing beneath her, and the seat groaned and swayed as she hit it. “I think it’s mostly a Q&A. They probably give you a chance to add something extra at the end. If you want.” Though she had just sat down, she looked behind her toward her office, worry pinching at her brow. “I should get back to it…” she murmured, but trailed off.
“Do you want to sit with us a while?” Lex asked, and relief poured across Rachel’s face. “And we could get dinner tonight? Unless you need to be with your daughter?”
“No, she’s with her father tonight,” Rachel said, and her voice sounded a little distant. “Would you guys mind? I’d rather not be alone.” She laughed, trying to alleviate the gravity of all that she was feeling, but the sound just made it more apparent since it was a little sharp and seemed to hurt her as it came out. It quickly petered out as she swallowed the tail end of it.
“No worries,” Lex said, and I smiled, adding my assent.
We spent the rest of the day distracting Rachel. Even Ramirez eschewed his case to join in. We gossiped about my love life for a while which I oh-so-very-much appreciated, but it made Rachel laugh, so I figured it was worth it. Cal had a frisbee downstairs, so we took it to the nearby park and threw it around for a while. For a group of fit, coordinated federal agents, we sure sucked at the game and spent more time chasing down long throws than we did with the disc actually in our hands. But we ribbed each other, and I tackled Cal at one point, giving us both grass stains, and we had a good time because of our mediocrity instead of in spite of it. Rachel’s cheeks turned red from the exertion and the heat of the day, though her eyes turned sad whenever she paused for longer than a second.
When we finally ran out of energy, we returned to the office. I was sweaty and stained green in quite a few places, a pleasant ache in my lungs and muscles.
“Dinner?” Lex asked as she dropped into the chair behind her desk, running a hand across her forehead to wipe away the sweat there. Though it couldn’t really be counted as sweat. She mostly just glistened a bit. I, on the other hand, could feel my hair sticking to my skin, and a bead of water trickled down the back of my neck.
“Dinner,” Rachel agreed.
“Jace, I think you broke something when you tackled me,” Cal groaned, clutching at their ribs jokingly, and I grinned.
“Oh, you’re fine,” I teased. “Don’t be a baby.”
“I think I might need to go to a hospital. I might never walk right again.”
“Walk right? You’re holding your ribs,” I pointed out, and everyone laughed, even Ramirez, which pleased me more than I’d expected.
“I can’t make dinner,” he said, ruining my hope that we were turning
a corner. “My wife and I have plans. Sorry.” He glanced at me as he said sorry, and I thought that maybe there was a small apology there. It hardened quickly, returning to his usual gruff demeanor. “But I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said as Ramirez gathered his coat and keys and left the office.
“So, what are we feeling?” Lex asked. “I’m starved after all that running around.”
“Pizza?” Rachel suggested. Somewhere along the way, we’d all silently agreed to let her choose, so we nodded, and Lex recommended her favorite pizza joint.
I was still compiling my list of favorite eateries, and I had yet to try this one, so I nodded readily. Then the four of us headed out the door and caught a streetcar toward the French Quarter, since none of us particularly felt like dealing with parking at this time in the evening.
It was a Thursday night, so the French Quarter’s sidewalks were busy but not crazy like they sometimes got on the weekends. There were twinkling lights strung between every streetlamp, glowing softly golden, and the cobblestones were warm underfoot, still retaining the day’s heat. The babble of countless voices surrounded us, but we made our own little bubble as we followed Lex to the restaurant, weaving in and out of the foot traffic like we’d been born to it.
The pizzeria was small but quaint, with a red and white striped canvas awning stretching over the patio, and candles in little mason jars set on every table. The scent of tomato sauce and herbs enveloped us as we entered, and I took a deep breath, feeling it settle into my bones. There was a twenty-minute wait, but we decided we were happy to have a drink at the bar in the meantime. Cal and Rachel claimed the last two stools while Lex and I crowded in behind them. The bar was made of gently mottled brass, gleaming in the low lights coming off the shelves of liquor behind it. The bartender appeared barely a minute after we arrived, memorizing our order and saying she’d be back soon with our drinks.
I was conscious of my sweaty appearance and grass-stained clothes, but I decided I didn’t really care after a moment. My friends all looked the same, and it wasn’t like anyone was actually paying attention to us.
We kept the conversation light and well away from the custody hearing tomorrow. There was still a line of tension down Rachel’s back, but it wasn’t consuming her entire form like it had been earlier. Our table was ready more quickly than expected, so we closed out our bar tab and took our half-empty drinks as we followed the host to the back of the restaurant. We’d wanted a patio table, but we’d been told that would be an extra forty minutes, so we’d settled for inside.
“A toast,” I said after the host dropped our menus and left. “To the job that brought us all together.”
“Cheers,” the three of them said, just slightly out of sync, and we clinked glasses.
“Still no luck finding Ramirez a partner?” Lex asked Rachel.
She shook her head, draining the last of her glass of white wine. “I’ve put out feelers with a few other branches, a few other agencies, but there aren’t many people taking the bait, and those who have aren’t, well, ideal, would be the polite word.”
The struggle of being a lesser-known agency. People either hadn’t heard of us, didn’t really know what we did, or assumed that our smaller size meant poorer quality and worse cases, which definitely wasn’t true.
“What about me?” Cal demanded. “Because I refuse to do any of the actual body stuff.”
“What about your M.E. friend? Dr. Farr, right?” I asked. She’d done the autopsy on Josephine Simms for our first case.
“She’s happy to help, but she’s not looking to change jobs right now,” Cal sighed. “I’ve tried to persuade her to come over to our side, believe me, but no luck.” Cal folded their lips into a pout as they stirred the remains of their drink with their straw, trying to get at the orange at the bottom. They fished the fruit out and began to eat it segment by segment.
“That position I have way too many applications for,” Rachel said. “I could use your help to sort through them, Cal, if you’re not too busy.”
“I always have time for a new project,” Cal said. “Also, I love judging people.” They finished on the flesh of the fruit and started in on the rind. Lex, Rachel, and I stared at them disbelievingly. They paused and glanced up at us. “What?”
“What are you doing?” I practically yelled, utterly confused by their actions.
They raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t eat the rind!”
They took another bite and chewed it just to put the rest of us on edge. “But it’s good. It gets all soft. It’s like a gummy.”
“It is not like a gummy!” I insisted, and Lex and Rachel nodded vehemently in agreement.
“Try it,” Cal said, gesturing to the rind in my own drink with the short stub that remained of their own. “It’s good, I promise you.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Can I have it then? When you’re done?” Cal asked eagerly.
“Sure,” I said, and they grinned.
We ordered another round of drinks and two pizzas to share, and I passed Cal my now empty glass so they could dig the lemon out.
“You’re so weird,” I said as they blissfully started in on the middle of the slice. Cal nodded and winked.
Cal stole the lime from Lex’s gin and tonic, and I was sure they were going to give themself a stomach ache eating so many of those.
The pizza, when it arrived, was top-notch, as Lex had promised it would be. We’d had some trouble agreeing on toppings, but luckily, the kitchen did half-and-half, so we were all able to get something that we wanted. I was the least picky of the group and snagged a slice from every half.
When we were so stuffed we could hardly move, we decided to order dessert, two panna cottas and a slice of chocolate cake to split amongst ourselves. We made sure Rachel got the largest share since she was the one who needed it most. We also wouldn’t let her pay despite her repeated attempts to take out her wallet, and the three of us split it amongst ourselves. I added a large tip since we’d gotten a bit more boisterous as the night went on, and we got more alcohol in us.
“Thank you for this, guys,” Rachel said as we left the restaurant, Cal bumping into me as they lost their balance for just a second. “I needed this.”
“Of course,” I assured her. “Besides, we don’t go out as a squad nearly enough.” I had yet to find any friends in town outside Emma and my coworkers, and it was nice to go out with people other than just myself.
“Agreed,” Rachel said, and she gave each of us a hug. “I should get home. I need to at least try to get some sleep tonight, though I’m not optimistic.” The ease of the evening slipped away from her, though she tried to hang onto it, and the worry that had taken up permanent residence in her eyes was revealed.
“It will be fine,” I said, but that was a lie. I had no idea if it would be fine, but that was what she needed to hear right now.
“Right,” she said flatly. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She tipped us a two-fingered salute in farewell and then set off toward the streetcar stop that she wanted. She hadn’t driven to work today, so she was able to head home right from the restaurant, while the rest of us had to backtrack to the MBLIS office to retrieve our cars. Cal split off from us as well, since they didn’t drive, and so it was just Lex and me standing at the back of the streetcar, leaning our elbows against the cool railing so that we could feel the breeze on our faces.
“Are you worried about tomorrow?” Lex asked me quietly. There weren’t many people on the streetcar and none of them within earshot, but it still felt like the sort of thing that should only be spoken of in low tones.
I nodded, though I was loath to admit it. It felt like jinxing the hearing before it had even begun. “I love this job, and I know Rachel loves this job, but it’s not exactly conducive to the white picket fence life.”
“Yeah,” Lex sighed. “Maybe it will be better because she’s the di
rector and not running off on cases all the time.”
“Maybe.” Rachel held long hours, but they were generally consistent hours—except for that time we commandeered her to help with the sting to catch Haddow—and she could probably cut back if she wanted to.
The streetcar shuddered to a halt at the stop just across the street from the MBLIS office. Lex and I thanked the driver and jumped down. “Are you worried about saying the wrong thing and messing this up for her?” Lex asked as we crossed into the MBLIS parking lot.
“God, yes,” I said, relieved that she was feeling the same way. “I’m terrified. I’ve testified in court loads of times against some nasty dudes who would come after me in an instant if I messed up the conviction, but I’ve never felt this nervous about it before.”
Lex nodded. “You can handle a physical threat, but if we mess this up tomorrow, we’ll basically ruin our friend’s life. And our boss’s.”
I’d been turning a crumpled receipt over and over in my hand within my pocket, and I pulled it out and flicked it at Lex. “Why the hell did you have to put it that way? Crap. That makes it so much worse!”
“Sorry,” Lex said, realizing the gravity of what had just come out of her mouth. “Yeah, that does sound bad.”
“I’m definitely not sleeping tonight, so thanks for that.”
We stopped beside her red Chevy Cruze, and she dug her keys out. “You weren’t sleeping, anyway.”
“Fair point,” I conceded. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I will be on time.”
“You better be,” she said seriously and then softened it with a slight smile.
“I’ll set my alarm a whole hour earlier than I usually do,” I promised. “That has to be enough, right?”
“Better make it two,” she suggested, and I cocked my head to the side in agreement. “See you then.”
“See you then,” I agreed, and as she climbed into her car, I crossed the lot to my own crummy sedan. There was an imprint of my butt on the seat that fit me perfectly, though I could just about feel the tip of a spring through the cushion.
