Eddie: Grime Doesn't Pay (The Brothers Grime Book 2)

by Z. A. Maxfield

  “Nature gets its start quickly. The heat wave we had didn’t help.”

  “How do you face it?”

  “I don’t think about it.”

  Andrew weighed Eddie’s answer against what he knew of the man. “Yes, you do.”

  Eddie shrugged. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Andrew watched as Eddie walked back into Mrs. Henderson’s bedroom, and then he left to join Bill, who stood on the driveway smoking a cigarette. Andrew took off his mask and gloves and shoved them in his pocket.

  “I have a pretty weak stomach,” Bill said sheepishly. “I didn’t last ten seconds.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “You did much better than I did.”

  “I doubt it’s a contest.”

  “Mr. Vasquez seems to be able to handle it pretty well.”

  “He’s used to it.”

  “Yeah.” Bill took a deep drag. “I never imagined.”

  “Me neither.” Andrew glanced back at the house. “If Eddie can get this place nice again, does that mean Mrs. Henderson can live here?”

  “That’s a pretty big if, isn’t it? No one could live in it right now.”

  Andrew bristled with loyalty. “This is what Eddie does. If he says he can do it, you can believe him.”

  “I don’t know if Dot can stay here. I have to factor in all the variables, one of which is how independent Dot is now, and another is how long she’s likely to remain that way. I’m consulting with the hospital’s liaison and talking to her doctors.”

  “She’d probably be happier here, with everything she’s used to around her.”

  “For now. I have to think long term though.” He threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it beneath his boat shoe. “Don’t get old. There’s nothing about it that doesn’t suck.”

  Andrew laughed bleakly. “I’ll weigh that against the alternative and get back to you.”

  Eddie joined them. “Bill, I’ll e-mail you a proposal as soon as I get to the office tomorrow morning. Will that be all right?”

  “Sure.” Bill held out his hand again. “Thanks for meeting me on a Sunday.”

  “You’re welcome.” Eddie shook Bill’s hand, and they said their good-byes.

  When Andrew and Eddie got back in the car, Eddie asked, “Where to? Brunch?”

  Andrew rubbed at the golden stubble on his jaw. “It will probably not come as any kind of surprise to you that food is the farthest thing from my mind right now.”

  Eddie offered a gentle reproof. “I did warn you.”

  “I guess we could go and just have drinks. I could use a margarita.”

  “All right.” Eddie keyed the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for? I asked to see what you do.”

  “I know.” Eddie glanced over at him. “Just so you know, you wouldn’t be the first man to ask himself whether he really wants to get involved with someone who does what I do.”

  “It’s a lot to take in, but your job’s not a problem for me.”

  “No?”

  “What you do helps people. Imagine Mrs. Henderson having to clean it, or—” Andrew’s phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID. His father. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

  “Boston?”

  “Dad?” It was hard to hear over the traffic. “Speak up. I’m in a convertible.”

  “They’re at it again!” Andrew’s dad shouted the words. “They’ve come over the fence, and they’re videotaping. It’s a bunch of kids, goddammit.”

  “Dad, if they’re trespassing on your property, you need to call the police.”

  “I can’t. You know I can’t. I’m just going to show those little bastards they can’t—”

  “Wait, Dad. What are you going to do? What are you saying?”

  There was clatter on the other end—noise that made Andrew pull the phone away from his ear. “Take that, you little prick. Get out of my yard. Want another?”

  Andrew shouted, “Dad, stop! Take a deep breath. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  The sounds of a scuffle and more clatter. “Take that!” His father disconnected the call.

  “Oh my God.” Andrew turned to Eddie. “Stop, stop! You have to take me home.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to go to my dad’s place.”

  “Where is it? I can take you.”

  “No. This is my problem.”

  “Are you sure? We could make good time.”

  “Just take me home. I’ll run over there and do what I need to do. I don’t know how long I’ll be, I can’t—”

  “All right.” Eddie turned the car toward Andrew’s place.

  “It’s not that I didn’t have a great time.”

  “I said it’s all right. Things happen.”

  Andrew put his hand on Eddie’s. “Thanks for everything. Especially for letting me in on what you do. That was really”—Andrew didn’t have a word for what it was—“something.”

  “Anytime, Andrew. It was my pleasure.”

  Andrew smiled. “Not entirely.”

  The drive took only a few minutes, but Andrew was so keyed up it seemed like forever until they got to his place.

  Eddie pulled his keys from the ignition. “Well—”

  Andrew caught Eddie off guard when he cupped Eddie’s face between his hands and kissed him soundly. Eddie adjusted to his kiss, relaxing, opening for Andrew’s tongue.

  Eddie was heaven to kiss. The planes of his face were broad, the surfaces freshly shaved and—despite their visit to Mrs. Henderson’s house—his skin still smelled faintly of something citrusy. He captured Andrew’s lower lip and gave it a nip before letting it go with a long, sensuous tug.

  “I love kissing you,” Andrew blurted.

  “Right back atcha,” Eddie said on a sigh.

  “Soon, yeah?”

  “Just try and keep me away.” Eddie’s brows furrowed. “I don’t mean that in a psycho way.”

  “I know what you mean.” Andrew opened the passenger door. “I’ll see you when you drop Lucy off.”

  “You will.”

  “Keep in touch, and I’ll call you at least by the middle of the week, depending on what’s up with my dad.”

  “Sure.”

  “Text me anytime.” Andrew closed the door and backed up the path toward his apartment. “Even if it’s just to tell me how Mrs. Henderson is doing, okay?”

  “Okay.” Eddie waved.

  Andrew walked the rest of the way to his place alone. He had to change before going over to his dad’s. He had to get his head in the game, because he hadn’t been to his dad’s place in years.

  Obviously, it must have gotten much worse if the neighbors were coming over the walls to gather evidence for their complaints.

  Christ. The last time Andrew saw his dad’s place, he hadn’t thought it could get worse.

  Chapter 11

  Andrew didn’t have a key to his father’s house. He hadn’t had one since he’d left home for college. That’s what he was thinking while he drove to his dad’s—he wondered if his father would even let him in.

  The question turned out to be moot because when he got there, his father was on the driveway talking to two members of the Orange County Sheriff’s department.

  Andrew parked his car across the street and threaded his way through the crowd of neighbors who didn’t seem to have torches and pitchforks but definitely weren’t there to provide Andrew’s dad with moral support.

  “Dad?”

  Andrew’s dad looked like he’d aged years since they’d last seen each other. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see what the heck was going on.”

  His father pressed his lips together and glanced away.

  One of the officers spoke to Andrew. “We were talking to your father about some appropriate responses to trespassing.”

  “What did you do?” Andrew asked. Reese Daley rema
ined silent. “Dad?”

  Andrew looked the crowd of bystanders over. Most of them were casually dressed as if they’d been spending a quiet Sunday morning at home doing chores. He was most interested in a man and two boys whose hair and shirts were slimy and had suspicious viscous yellow streaks.

  “Dad. Did you egg them?” Andrew sounded shrill, even to himself.

  Andrew’s father snapped, “It’s not illegal. I was defending my property. I feared for my life.”

  “Mr. Daley,” said one of the sheriff’s deputies. Andrew and his father both turned at the sound of their name. “Nobody’s pressing charges here. As we understand it, your property has been inspected, and you’ve been notified the waste in your yard must be removed by a specified date?”

  “Do you see this, son?” Reese glared at Andrew. “See what happens when Big Brother steps in?”

  “Dad—”

  “Despite the fact we live in a police state, we have rights.” Reese turned to the deputy. “The city can take this up with my lawyer. I am not hurting anyone. These people trespassed on my property.”

  “I’ve talked to them, Mr. Daley.” The officer was patient. “They understand you’re well within your rights to call the police and have them removed and prosecuted if they trespass again.”

  “That’s not enough. They’ve been spying on me, taking pictures. Posting them on the Web.”

  Andrew’s heart sank. His father was a proud man. Being on display like that had to be especially painful for him.

  “Dad—”

  “Are we done here then?” Reese asked the closest deputy.

  “We’re done for now, but if you don’t ameliorate the situation there will be a follow-up.”

  “The city can talk to my lawyer.” Reese started up the path back to his house, leaving Andrew to face the crowd.

  The deputy said, “You should probably talk to your father about this situation.”

  “Do you suppose I haven’t?”

  The man scribbled a URL on the back of a business card and handed it over. “Orange County Mental Health has a support system for people in your father’s situation. These people are professionals who can help him work through this. Once someone’s home gets to this point, we have little choice. He’ll need to make a good faith effort.”

  “I understand.”

  “We’ve been called here before.” The man leaned toward Andrew and said, “I like your dad. He’s a good guy in a bad situation. They’re lucky they didn’t come over my fence, or they’d be leaving in a body bag. I told the neighbors they need to leave him alone to sort this out, but there are several building codes he’s violating. If he doesn’t clear the yard, I know for a fact the building inspector will come back with a warrant for the house. If the inside is as bad as the outside…” The deputy left the thought unfinished.

  “Thank you for your candor. I hope my dad will listen.”

  “Our parents can be bullheaded sometimes. We can only try.” The deputy gave Andrew a nod and went to join his colleagues.

  “Show’s over, people. Time to go home.” Together, the officers cleared away the crowd, sending everyone back where they came from. For that, Andrew was grateful.

  After they left, Andrew stood alone on the street. His father’s place sat in the bend of a residential cul-de-sac. There were a thousand others like it. It was the same kind of neighborhood featured in every family comedy film, every movie about strange suburban neighbors or ghosts from sacred burial grounds determined to rid themselves of new construction.

  He walked up the path to the front door, noticing his father’s lawn was full of weeds but still appeared recently mown. A lacy pattern of tattered cobwebs clung to the stucco around the porch light, featuring the remains of a long-dead moth. Several signs warning off solicitors were posted in the window next to the front door, between dirty glass and dirtier miniblinds.

  Ants marched smartly along the edge of the porch near the entry door, disappearing by droves into the crack between the weather stripping and the doorjamb.

  Oh, Dad.

  Andrew knocked on the door.

  Chapter 12

  Early Monday morning Eddie entered the office in a pretty good mood. He’d noticed Gabe’s new-school muscle car out front, and Dave’s SUV was parked beside it, but he figured they must have walked down the street for coffee since all the lights were off and the office pot was empty. He could blame Gabe’s frugality for the lack of light, but if he was in the office, he always, always made coffee.

  Eddie went about the task of getting a pot going, strong, as he liked it. After setting everything up, he left the kitchen area and headed to his office to fire up his computer and check his schedule. While he powered up his electronics, he thought about Andrew and how abruptly things had ended the day before.

  He hadn’t heard from Andrew, but that wasn’t cause for concern. They’d only gone on a couple of dates, after all, even if one had ended in some pretty spectacular sex. If Andrew was having family problems, Eddie wouldn’t expect him to call until things were settled.

  Eddie was patient, but at the same time he didn’t want Andrew thinking he wasn’t interested. He hedged his bets by sending a text message that read: I had a nice time over the weekend, thank you. Have a good day.

  In the Big Book of Eddie, it never hurt to let people know you were thinking of them.

  The schedule was light for the day. Eddie sent Bill Laurence an estimate for Mrs. Henderson’s house and made a call about another job. Crime spiked as the weather warmed up. So did other jobs, because people who died alone decomposed faster. Eddie hated his awareness of that. It seemed like they counted on other people’s tragedy to make a buck, but Grime’s business thrived on misfortune. The fact was they were providing a valuable service, and that made up for any feelings of guilt he had.

  A noise from Gabe’s office drew Eddie’s attention. He’d been so focused on his work he hadn’t heard Gabe come in. Eddie walked across the hall and opened the door. He found Dave sitting in Gabe’s chair, hands flat on the table. His head was tilted back, and his eyes were closed.

  “Hi, Dave.” Eddie glanced around. “Did you sleep here?”

  Dave’s eyes snapped open, but otherwise he didn’t move a muscle. “No.”

  “I don’t know where Gabe went. I made coffee. Want some?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks again for helping out with Mrs. Henderson.” Eddie leaned against the door frame. “I went over to the house and talked to the attorney yesterday. He’s doing the math to see whether she has the resources to live at home for a while with a caregiver, or if the place will need to be sold.”

  Dave nodded.

  “Listen, when Gabe gets in would you ask if he wants to go to Flappy Jack’s after Skippy and Kim take the van out? I’m up for a big breakfast. And tell him we’re checking the inventory today.”

  “Sure,” Dave said roughly.

  That was when Eddie noticed the soles of Gabe’s bare feet sticking out from under the desk, and the whole tableau made sudden, perfect sense. “Gabe?”

  Gabe’s head thumped hard on the underside of the desk, causing a mugful of pens to fall over, spilling all over the floor. Gabe cursed long and loud in Spanish as he struggled to get free.

  “What the hell? Are you kidding me?” Eddie backed out of the office.

  “Wait.” Dave flew into damage-control mode. “Fuck, wait.”

  Eddie closed the door with an embarrassed tug and headed toward the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drew him like a tractor beam. He tried not to laugh, but it was pretty amusing catching Gabe and Dave like that.

  A few minutes later, Gabe and Dave came to find him. Gabe looked embarrassed, but Dave seemed angry.

  He glared at Eddie. “Do not say a word—”

  “Shut up, Dave.” Gabe poured Dave a cup of coffee and handed it over. “Eddie isn’t going to go blabbing.”

  “Who says I’m not?” Eddie eyed them both. Christ
, Dave should come out already. Who was Eddie going to tell that didn’t already know?

  “Eddie,” Dave warned. “Don’t fuck with me.”

  “What are you going to do?” Eddie watched Dave’s face drain of all color. “Oh, forget it. Your secret is safe with me, Dave.”

  “Good,” Dave snapped.

  “May I make a suggestion? Don’t screw around in public if you don’t want to get caught. And you.” Eddie turned a raised eyebrow toward Gabe.

  Gabe flushed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He added cream and several packets of sugar. The silence was so absolute the refrigerator’s hum sounded like a call to battle stations.

  When no one said anything, Gabe sighed. “All right. It was a…seize-the-moment thing.”

  “I guess so.” Eddie kept his face neutral, but not without effort. “That is all kinds of inappropriate, Gabriel. This is a business.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Dave muttered darkly. “Like you’ve never done anything like that.”

  “Actually I haven’t.”

  “Not for lack of trying though, I’ll bet,” said Gabe. He caught Dave by the arm and hauled him back to his office door. “Not a word about this, Eddie.”

  Eddie nodded. “My lips—unlike yours, apparently—are sealed.”

  Gabe pulled Dave into his office with a few cajoling words and closed the door behind them.

  “God, you guys get up to some weird shit,” Skippy said from the hallway leading to the loading dock.

  Eddie turned and discovered Skippy had probably been standing in the shadows all along. Sneaky bastard. “Ah, man. Dave would die if he knew you were standing there.”

  “I ain’t going to tell him. Are you?”

  “Nah.” Eddie held up the pot to offer Skippy coffee.

  Skippy picked his World’s Greatest Dad mug off a hook and held it out. “I had his number right away. Mr. Down-Low, my ass.”

  “You’re a shrewd judge of character.” Eddie poured him a cup and asked, “You guys have everything covered for today?”

  “I’m just waiting for Kim, and then we’re on our way. We’ve got an apartment had a dead guy in it for a while. Same old, same old. How about you?”