Golden Trail

Chapter Two My Sister Goes the Distance

Layne sat at his desk in his office and stared at his bank balance on the computer.

Six weeks ago, it was healthy. A year ago, before he bought the house, furnished it and bought his son a car, it was very healthy.

Now, after taking the gargantuan hit of paying his hospital bills, it was not.

He’d lived tight, not much to spend money on; his biggest expense was child support, which Gabby, on a strict schedule of every three years, went to her attorneys to jack up. He never fought her; he just gave her the money. She was a bitch but she loved her kids and she worked hard as the manager of the checkout clerks at the grocery store. She wasn’t rolling in it and she wanted her sons to have a good life. So Layne did his part to help her give it to them.

He heard the warning beep, someone had tripped the sensor which meant someone was coming up. His eyes moved to the video screen on the shelf to his left and he saw Gabby walking up the steps.

Layne had offices over Mimi’s Coffee Shop in town. They consisted of his office, a reception and a small room beside the front door with a counter, a coffeepot on the counter (not that he used it, he wanted coffee, he went to Mimi’s), a sink, a microwave also on the counter and a half-fridge under it. There was a small bathroom, toilet and sink. There was also a big storage room off his office where he kept his equipment.

He watched as Gabby made it to the top and turned to the door and he realized that it wasn’t just a shit day, it was a super shit day.

He stood and was leaning against the doorjamb to his office when she walked in.

“Tanner,” she snapped when her eyes hit him and he shook his head. He hadn’t even said hello and she was snapping at him.

“Good to see you, Gabby,” he replied and her eyes narrowed at his hard to miss sarcasm.

It was not good to see her. It was never good to see her. His ex-wife was a bitch.

At first, he knew she had reason. When Rocky broke it off with him, not even a week later, he’d been out, he’d been drunk and he’d hooked up with Gabby. She had dark hair, like Rocky, but also dark brown eyes, not like Rocky. Rocky’s eyes were deep blue. Nevertheless, he’d fucked Gabby because she reminded him of Rocky. It had been a one night stand. That was, until two and a half months later when she hunted him down and informed him she was pregnant, it was his and she was keeping the baby. She also informed him they were getting married.

He did not want to do this mainly because, when he wasn’t drunk, he didn’t like her. Also because he didn’t believe the kid was his. Everyone knew Gabrielle Weil got around.

When she had it, though, even as an infant, Layne took one look at his son and knew.

So he did right by Jasper and married Jasper’s mother.

It was the second stupidest thing he’d done in his life, outside getting hooked up with Rocky.

Gabby was far from stupid, though, she knew he was hung up on Rocky and this made their marriage unpleasant, to say the least. Layne tried, God’s honest truth, he did. She wasn’t Rocky, that was true, but he had to give it to her, he couldn’t imagine being tied to a woman who was hung up on another man, who you knew she was thinking about him when you fucked her.

But he’d wanted to be a good Dad. He didn’t have a father, his father took off within weeks of him being born, and he didn’t want his son to grow up like that. That was the primary reason he’d married her.

But no matter how he tried to make their marriage good and worked to bury the bitterness of losing Raquel, Gabby sensed it under the surface and she made life a living hell. He was close to breaking it off with her when she fell pregnant with Tripp. They hadn’t had sex in months and she knew he was pulling away. That was why he woke up with her mouth latched to his cock, his cock hard under her working him and he’d fucked her. If Tripp hadn’t come out of that, he’d think it was the third stupidest thing he’d done in his life. But he couldn’t imagine life without Tripp.

He’d lasted nearly two more years before he split.

“We need to talk,” she told him, coming into the reception area.

“All right,” Layne agreed, having learned it was better to let her say what she had to say and move on than try to fight it. She wasn’t only a bitch, she could get mean and the mean could turn nasty. His day started with Rocky and would end with a dinner she’d cooked that he’d have to eat with her and his kids there. He didn’t need Gabby to turn nasty.

She stared at him a second, then looked beyond him into his office. Her face turned hard when she realized he wasn’t going to ask her to come in, take a seat, offer a cup of coffee.

“I need you to take the boys next week,” she announced.

Layne sighed.

The reason he was home was because she’d hooked up with Stew Baranski. When Tripp told him that, Layne’s blood ran cold. Stew Baranski was a total asshole. He’d always been an asshole. Fuck, the guy could teach classes on how to be a total and complete asshole. He didn’t want that guy around his kids but when he’d called and shared this with Gabby she’d lost her fucking mind. Then she’d ranted about how she’d taken care of his kids for twelve years and now that she had something good in her life (that was a joke, Stew being anything good was a freaking joke), he was trying to screw it up for her. She continued to rant about how she gave everything up for her boys while he did whatever the fuck he wanted.

He had to admit, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

But it was clear she was passed bitter straight to hostile and it was also clear she wasn’t giving up Stew. She’d dated, he knew this, but she hadn’t had a long term relationship in awhile. She’d let herself go after Tripp, in a huge way, and no longer bore any resemblance to the attractive, built woman she was in her twenties. She was hanging onto Stew, a last ditch effort to end a lonely life of single parenthood.

It was either let Stew Baranski turn his sons into assholes, or be an asshole to them, or both, or come home.

He came home.

And since he did, he often doubled up his weeks so Stew and Gabby could do whatever Stew and Gabby did that they needed his sons clear of it. Layne didn’t want to know, he also didn’t argue. She was right. She’d borne the brunt of raising his kids. It was his turn to kick in.

“Fine,” he replied. “You need to come into the office to tell me that?”

“Nope,” she shook her head once. “Needed to come in to tell you I need five hundred dollars.”

Layne did a slow blink. “Come again?”

“Need five hundred dollars,” she repeated.

“Gabby, this may have escaped you but circumstances are changed. I got joint custody and your support was reduced because of it. You get what you get and that’s all you get.”

He watched her straighten her shoulders. “I need five hundred dollars, Tanner.”

“Is this something for the boys?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“What?”

She looked over his shoulder. The bitch was lying.

“What?” he repeated.

Her eyes came back to his. “Jasper and Tripp need stuff for school.”

“What do they need?”

“Stuff,” she answered. “Clothes and shit.”

They did not need clothes and shit. He knew this because he handed them both wads of cash about two days after he got out of the hospital so they could go back to school shopping. Both his boys were kitted out with trendy gear like rock stars.

“I think they’re covered,” Layne replied.

“Yeah, with stuff they keep at your house. They don’t have as much at my place.”

“Well, since they’re at my house most of the time, that works, don’t you think?”

Her face started to get red, not with embarrassment, with anger. “Oh, I get it. Dad’s the cool one, gets his son a hot rod, fills their closet with designer clothes. They go to Mom’s and they’ve got shit.”

“It isn’t like they don’t have bags. They want their stuff, they can take it with them to your place.”

“You want them to go back and forth like vagabonds?”

Layne sucked in breath and sought patience.

Then he reminded her, “Stew’s livin’ with you, Gabby, your expenses are lowered and you still get money from me. You wanna get them clothes, get ‘em.”

“I work at Kroger, Tanner. I’m not a shit hot PI who charges a hundred and fifty dollars an hour plus expenses.”

“You’ve worked at Kroger for fifteen years, Gabby, you’re a manager and you had to disclose your income the last time you took me to court. You are far from hurting.”

This was true, except the part about him learning this when she’d had to disclose it the last time she took him to court. He’d checked up on her regularly, he’d known for years exactly what she was paid, what she spent her money on and what she spent his money on.

“Jesus, why do you make me jump through hoops like this when it’s for our boys?” she snapped, her voice rising.

That pissed him off.

“I have never, not once, Gabrielle, made you jump through hoops when it’s for our boys. Not… fucking… once and you fucking know it.”

She snapped her mouth shut. She knew it.

“And you’re standin’ there lyin’ to me. You got trouble? You tell me, I’ll help you out. But do not walk into my office and hand me a load of shit and expect me to pay you to do it.”

“I’m not lying,” she retorted.

“Bullshit, Gabby. You think in my line of work I can’t spot a liar? I didn’t learn that quick, I’d be dead.”

Her flush suffused her face; she knew he’d pegged her.

“Now, why do you need five hundred dollars?” he continued.

“I don’t,” she returned.

“You asked for it not five minutes ago.”

“Stew does,” she bit off, her eyes sliding away from him.

Layne felt his body get tight.

Then he stated in a quiet voice, “You are fucking shitting me.”

Her eyes shot back to him. “He’s in a jam.”

Layne pushed away from the door and crossed his arms on his chest. “Don’t give a fuck Stew Baranski is in a jam.”

“If he’s in a jam, I’m in a jam.”

Layne’s brows drew together. “You in danger?”

“No,” she hissed, pissed as all hell she had to tell him what she had to tell him. “Things are just tight. I might not be able to make the mortgage.”

Layne sucked in another breath and his head dropped back so he could look at the ceiling.

Then he made a decision and looked back at his ex-wife.

“I told you –” he started.

“Don’t!” she clipped, her voice again rising.

“I told you not to let that asshole in your life. You did,” Layne went on.

“He’s my man, I love him,” she shot back.

“Your choice and because of that, he’s your problem.”

“I miss the mortgage, I could lose my house!”

“They don’t foreclose for months, Gabby, tell him to get his shit together and figure it out. I’m not getting involved.”

“He’s in deep, Layne, he’s trying to sort it out but it’ll take time. I can’t lose the house in the meantime.”

“What I don’t get is how the house is on the line. You got enough money to –”

“I’ve been helping him out.”

Layne studied her. Then he asked, “How bad is this?”

“Bad.”

That wasn’t a good answer.

“How bad and how long’s it been goin’ on?” he pressed.

She stared at him and didn’t answer. That meant awhile.

Then she said, “I lose the house, Jas and Tripp –”

“Then you’re lucky I’m home, Gabby. Means the boys are good, always got a bed with me.”

“I can’t believe you!” she yelled

He dropped his arms and walked to her. While doing it, he tried to find Gabrielle Weil in her bitter face, now twisted with anger. She hadn’t been a knockout but she had been very pretty. She carried an extra fifty pounds now, at least, and she didn’t carry it like she was comfortable with it. Her hair was now dyed and looked that way and she should have left it to turn gray. Her mother’s hair was thick and gray and attractive. She worked it, Gabby could have too. The skin on Gabby’s face was slack because she didn’t take care of it, bags under her eyes, probably from not sleeping or being pissed off at Layne and the world for nearly two decades.

He stopped in front of her and tipped his head down to look at her.

Then, softly, he said, “I told you not to get hooked up with that guy. I told you he’d bring you trouble. Stew is no good. He treated you right, I’d be happy to eat my words. But I get from this that he’s been fuckin’ around and he’s involved you in it and that is one way a man doesn’t treat a woman right.”

“You’d know how not to treat a woman right, Tanner,” she shot back.

“Don’t go there, Gabby. I took care of you, I took care of our house, I took care of our boys. I worked my ass off to make a life for our family. We weren’t a love match and you knew it and you wanted my ring on your finger anyway. I gave it to you and did the best I could. It wasn’t good enough. You gave a little, even the barest fucking inch, we coulda made a go of it. You didn’t. You can blame me but we both know that’s bullshit. That’s on you and this is on you. I don’t want any part of this. You made a decision a decade and a half ago to hold onto something when you shoulda let it go and you fucked up your life. You made a decision two years ago to hold onto something you shoulda let go and it’s happening again. I’m not getting dragged into this. I start, it won’t stop for me either and I’m not down with that. You go home, you talk to that asshole and you tell him to get his shit together and you don’t come here again and hand me this bullshit. Am I clear?”

“You are so full of shit,” she hissed.

“Yeah?” he asked, “How?”

“I gave,” she informed him.

“Yeah, you gave, you gave me attitude for five fuckin’ years.”

“My husband was lusting after another woman!”

Fuck!

He wished he had a dollar for every time she brought up Raquel. He’d have a much healthier bank balance if he did.

“That’s the something you shoulda let go,” he told her.

“Yeah, how would I do that, Tanner? How?”

“You cared about what we were tryin’ to build, you woulda found a way to let her go, like I did.”

The second time that day he watched a woman’s body jerk. He knew he had her. She knew he’d done the best he could with the hand he’d been dealt. She knew he wouldn’t step out on her, even if Rocky had come back. Gabby had his ring on her finger, their sons under their roof, so she had him. She couldn’t fight that corner. She tried, way too often, and she never won.

“This was a waste of my time,” Gabby gave in acidly.

“Yeah, it was,” Layne agreed.

“Thanks for all your help,” she spat, turning.

“Happy to oblige,” he muttered, also turning.

“And you think Stew is an asshole,” she mumbled, opening the door.

Layne sighed.

Then he heard the door close behind her.

Then he walked into his office, logged out of his bank account and started to investigate Stewart Baranski’s finances.

Dave Merrick opened his front door and Layne, Jasper and Tripp were assaulted with a scent that could only be what heaven smelled like.

“That smells great!” Tripp shouted, and bolted in, nearly bowling Dave over as he kept shouting his greeting, “Hey Uncle Dave!” Then he ran down the hall to the kitchen in the back.

Dave had turned to watch and he turned back, smiling.

“Hey Uncle Dave,” Jasper repeated his brother’s words, socked Dave in the shoulder and followed Tripp, much slower, playing it cool, not wanting Mrs. Astley to know he couldn’t wait to see her.

“Jas,” Dave replied and then he stepped from the door, keeping one hand on it, his other outstretched, inviting Layne in, “Tanner, good to see you, son.”

Tanner took his hand, squeezed and got a squeeze back.

Dave Merrick was still a good-looking man at sixty-three, tall, lean, fit, he only limped when he got tired and he only brought out the cane when it was raining and the wet got in his bones, making his old wounds ache.

A long time ago, Dave had been married to a woman named Cecilia, the town beauty. Layne remembered her and exactly what she looked like which was a lot like what Rocky looked like now. And he remembered he’d never seen her not smiling.

He also remembered the day he’d heard she’d been murdered on the same night Dave had been shot five times.

He also remembered going to her funeral with his mother and everyone else in town and standing across the casket and watching Raquel the whole time as she sat in her seat, her eyes not moving from the casket, not once, her skin pale, blue shadows under her eyes, her face perfectly blank. He had only known of her then, he hadn’t really known her. She was already beyond pretty. But she was fourteen, he was eighteen and he was out of her league. It wouldn’t be for three years when he’d run into her and decide to make his move.

He let Dave’s hand go and moved into the house, pausing to wait for Dave to close the door. When he first got back and renewed his relationship with Dave and Merry, coming to that house messed with his head. Too many memories there. Now, he and his boys had been there so many times, it didn’t faze him.

Except for that night and the fact that Rocky was somewhere in that house. She was never there when they were there.

“How’s things, Tanner?” Dave asked, coming to his side as they made their way slowly down the hall by the stairs.

“Could be better,” Layne answered honestly. Dave was a friend, Dave had known him a long time and Dave used to be a cop, three reasons not to lie. One way or the other, he’d know.

Dave was silent for a beat before he said, “We’ll talk later.”

Layne nodded and they hit ground zero on the smell.

Merry was standing at a counter, wielding an electric knife. Tripp had his head in the fridge. Jasper had settled on a stool at the counter.

Raquel was nowhere in sight.

“Yo, Tanner,” Merry called with a grin over his shoulder.

“Merry,” Layne replied.

Garrett Merrick looked like a male replica of his sister, but taller and definitely masculine. Same dark hair (without the fake streaks), same deep blue eyes.

Merry’s nickname was apt. He was a good ole boy. Always had been. He was such a good old boy he made an art out of it.

“Dad, you want something to drink?” Tripp asked.

“Beer, Pal,” Layne answered.

“Where’s Mrs. Astley?” Jasper asked, looking around while trying not to look like he was looking around.

“Went home about two minutes ago, buddy, headache,” Merry answered Jasper and Layne’s eyes went to his friend.

She didn’t have a headache. After the way he spoke to her that morning, she had an intense desire not to be in his presence.

He told himself that worked for him when he knew he felt guilt that he could see all around, and smell, how hard she’d worked and she’d blown out of there before she could enjoy it.

Then again, she could also have a headache.

“Bummer,” Tripp muttered and handed him a beer before he took a can of pop to his brother and cracked open his own.

“Yeah, I’ve tasted this shit,” Merry put in, lifting his hand, a slab of meat between his fingers, “Bummer. This stuff is the freaking bomb.” Then he tossed the meat into his mouth.

“Awesome, I’m starved,” Tripp replied.

“She get headaches a lot?”

That came out of Layne’s mouth before he could stop it and both Merry and Dave looked at him. For over a year, anytime the three of them were together, Rocky had been the elephant in the room. This was the first indication Layne had given that he was aware of its presence.

But she’d suffered headaches when he was with her, migraines, pain so extreme he couldn’t touch her, he couldn’t even be in the same room walking around. The barest hint of noise, light, anything, increased her agony. He hated having to leave her to battle it alone but he had no choice. Nothing worked. She tried everything. It didn’t happen often, thankfully he could count on one hand how often it happened when she was with him, but he remembered every last one.

“Not really,” Merry answered and Dave looked at Layne’s sons.

“Boys, grab bowls of whatever you see and take them to the dining room. Roc set the table. Sit your butts down when you get in there. Grub’s up, we should eat,” Dave said and the boys, unlike at home, moved quickly to do as ordered.

“How do you do that?” Layne asked jokingly when the kids left the room.

“Years of practice,” Dave answered, a smile lighting his blue eyes.

Then, completely unable to control it, Layne looked at Merry and said, “She gonna make it home?”

Merry dumped another load of lamb on a platter and looked at Layne.

“What?”

“If it’s a migraine, she’ll have trouble making it home. She used to get sick,” Layne told his friend something he already knew.

Those were the only times she let him touch her when she had a headache, when she was puking in the bathroom. He’d hold her hair back and press a cold washcloth to her neck while she did it. When she was done, she’d wait for him to rinse the cloth and she’d sit on her ass on the floor, head tilted up to him, eyes hazy with pain and she’d let him wipe her face and mouth.

Merry studied him then said, “She doesn’t have far to go.”

Dave lived about five minutes from Layne, Merry lived about two minutes from Dave, Rocky lived at least fifteen minutes from all of them. Rush hour traffic, even in the ‘burg, could get rough and it was still rush hour and would be for another half an hour. That could mean a twenty-five minute ride home, if not longer.

“Rush hour, Merry,” Layne said.

Merry’s head tipped to the side but his eyes slid to his Dad. He only answered when he was looking directly at Layne again.

“She’s stayin’ with me, big man,” he said quietly.

Oh fuck. This didn’t sound good.

“Come again?” he asked and he wondered why the fuck he did. But he did.

“Left him, Tanner,” Dave said, moving forward to grab the platter as Merry unplugged the knife. “She did it over two months ago.”

“No joke?” Layne asked, this time he knew why it came out of his mouth. He was shocked. Jarrod and Raquel Astley were pillars of that community. Rock solid.

“No joke,” Dave answered.

“And no joke that fuckwad moved his latest piece right in before Roc’s side of the bed was even cold,” Merry added, his tone low but trembling. He was pissed.

Layne felt his body freeze.

The he repeated, “Come again?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Dave said.

“We’ll talk about it now,” Layne replied. “He’s moved another woman in?”

Merry turned away from the counter, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“Been steerin’ clear of this, big man, but you have to have heard,” Merry said.

He hadn’t heard. Everyone he knew in that town knew he and Rocky had had a thing. No one said boo about her to him.

“Heard what?” Layne asked.

“Fucked around on her all the time,” Merry informed him. “Far’s I can tell, since about a week after they said ‘I do’. Nailed every nurse in his hospital. Every nurse’s aide. Every decent looking patient, probably.”

“You are shitting me,” Layne whispered.

He could not believe this mainly because it was unbelievable. Not once, not even once had he considered stepping out on Rocky when he was with her. He didn’t have to. She was great in bed, she loved sex, she was good at it and she wanted it often. Her appetite was so healthy, she’d nearly killed him but it was a death he didn’t mind dying. Outside of bed she was affectionate, attentive, funny and almost always in a good mood, unless she had a headache, was stressed about a test she had to take or they were fighting about something, which they did a lot, which meant they could make up a lot. She could cook. She kept a clean house. Even working as a waitress on the weekends and going to school full-time, she still took care of him in every way there was to take care of a man and she took care of their apartment, their bills, the food, their lives. Except for paying the rent and utilities, taking out the trash and helping her do the dishes every once in awhile, Layne hadn’t had to lift a finger.

Who would step out on something like that?

“She’s already filed,” Dave said and finished before walking away with the platter. “She’s through.”

Layne watched Dave disappear into the dining room then he turned to Merry.

“She okay?” he asked.

“Nope,” Merry answered. “She had no clue. Whole town’s talkin’ about it, have been for years and she’s the putz. She found out, moved out and he moved his new girl in. She’s twenty-three. Spittin’ image of Roc fifteen years ago. She’s also a cheerleader for the Pacers.” Merry got closer and his voice dipped lower. “She’s a freakin’ Pacemate, big man. That dick’s got courtside season tickets and has for the last ten years. If shackin’ up with some hottie almost half your age who dances on court at halftime isn’t in your face, nothing is. So, no, she’s not okay.”

Layne did not know much about Jarrod Astley. He knew he was from Indianapolis, Broad Ripple. He knew he was nine years older than Rocky. He knew he was Chief of Surgery at Presbyterian in Indianapolis and supposedly a hotshot since he’d been Chief of Surgery for five years which made him young when he earned the post. He’d seen the man, not often, a few times around town. He was good-looking enough, in a stick up his ass kind of way. He struck Layne as ice cold which Layne thought didn’t work with Rocky, who was anything but cold.

Now, he knew the man was just a plain fool.

“Jesus,” Layne muttered, tilting his head to the side and looking at the floor.

He was wondering, again, why she’d come to his house that morning.

He was also wondering why she’d come to his hospital room, looked at him the way she did, touched him, put her mouth to his.

Rebound or something else?

“Tanner,” Merry called and Layne looked at him.

“Let’s eat,” Layne said and watched as Merry’s eyes flashed then his face closed off, not giving away anything.

Then he smiled huge, a cover, grabbed a basket that had something wrapped in a clean dish towel and he replied, “Fuckin’ A, bubba.”

Layne inhaled from the cigarette, took it from his lips and exhaled.

He had one smoke a day, after dinner with a beer or, if the day had been shit, a whisky. Since quitting ten years ago, he only had the one a day.

Unless the day was really shit.

He looked to Merry as Merry exhaled. Merry didn’t have one smoke a day. He had a lot more.

They were both standing outside but Dave, not smoking, was sitting on a garden chair. The boys were in the house watching some movie on TV.

“So Stew’s fucked her over?” Dave asked.

Layne had told them about Gabby’s problem.

“Yeah,” Layne answered.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Dave muttered.

“That’d be because it isn’t surprising,” Layne muttered back.

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground, big man, but, with Stew, it could be anything,” Merry told him.

“It’s bad shit, she’s in danger, I gotta know,” Layne said to Merry.

“What’d you get on your searches?” Dave asked.

“He’s maxed out,” Layne answered. “Overdrawn at the bank, credit cards over the limit, hasn’t paid any bills in over six months, debt collectors circling, his truck has been shopped out for repo. She’s been holdin’ on but the last three months she’s struggled. Utilities are only two months out but I figure she pays them so she won’t get shut off. She was always current, always paid on time and the last six months, she’s been juggling, payin’ late, fallin’ short, payin’ minimum payments instead of payin’ the full amount. Now, outside the utilities, she isn’t payin’ at all. She didn’t often carry debt, except around Christmas. She’s been inchin’ up but, last two months, she’s shot up and she’s also maxed. They’ve both been declined for new cards, him twice in the last month and she’s tried taking out three.”

“That’s not good,” Merry mumbled.

“Nope,” Layne agreed. “She makes decent money and never lived beyond her means. We bought that house together sixteen years ago. Her mortgage is low. He lost his job, which he hasn’t, she could take him on. She’d feel the hit but she can do it. This kinda shit, he owes someone. Gambling. Betting. Something.”

“I’ll ask around,” Dave offered.

“It would be appreciated,” Layne replied.

Merry crushed his butt into the ashtray on the outdoor table and twisted his head to his Dad.

“Got a date, Dad,” he said and Layne smiled.

Merry was Jasper except forty years old. He’d been married once, for six years. Before and since, he played the field as often as he could. Like his sister, young, he’d been a knockout and age hadn’t touched it, in fact, it seemed to enhance it so Merry’s field was wide and varied.

Layne’s smile died when Dave got up from his chair and headed into the house, muttering, “I’ll leave you to it.”

Layne took one last drag and then crushed out his cigarette on the exhale knowing now this invitation to dinner was more than a family get together.

Layne watched Dave close the backdoor then he locked his eyes on Merry.

“What?” he asked instantly.

“You know we gotta talk, it’s been six weeks,” Merry replied quietly, his eyes on his Dad’s dark backyard.

“Yeah, we’ll talk but not now. I took a hit –”

He didn’t finish when Merry’s eyes sliced to him and he growled, “Yeah, you took a hit.”

He was talking about Layne getting shot.

“I didn’t mean that kinda hit, Merry, the hospital bills wiped me out. It kills to say it but I can’t focus on that right now. I gotta take cases that pay.”

“You’re off on this one,” Merry declared and Layne felt his neck muscles contract.

“No, Garrett, I’m not,” he said softly.

“Yeah, Tanner, you are,” Merry shot back. “You’ve been blown.”

“You can’t work it,” Layne pointed out.

“I won’t be. Rocky is,” Merry returned.

Every muscle in Layne’s body contracted.

“What?” he whispered.

“She’s gonna cozy up to Rutledge, get in on the inside,” Merry shared.

Layne’s fingers curled into fists and he turned fully to face his friend. It took a lot out of him but he didn’t grab his collar and shake some sense into him – or beat it into him – both of which he’d prefer to do.

“Are you fucking insane?” Layne asked.

“She’s all over it,” Merry retorted and Layne sucked in a breath and it made a sound like a hiss.

Then he looked at the yard.

She would. Rocky would. She’d be all over it.

He now had proof that Raquel was just as nuts as ever and her brother surpassed her by a long fucking shot.

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” Layne pointed out.

“We’re talking. She’s learning. She’s good,” Merry replied.

He looked back at his friend. “News flash, man, I took three because of this shit six weeks ago and I know what I’m doin’. You want that to happen to your sister?”

Merry leaned into Layne and he saw it in his face. It wasn’t stark, he was trying to control it, but it was there.

Fear.

“It was her idea,” he whispered.

“Fuck me,” Layne whispered back and it hit him.

She knew. Merry told her everything. She knew there was a dirty cop in the Department. She knew it was Rutledge. She knew Merry couldn’t work it so he farmed it out to Layne. She knew Layne got too close and Rutledge got tweaked and Layne got ambushed. And, it was worthwhile to repeat, she knew there was a dirty copy in the department.

And she knew her father’s partner twenty-four years ago was a dirty cop. She knew that her father knew it. She knew that her father was working at proving it and he got close. And she knew because she’d heard the break in, she’d heard her mother’s shouts, the partner’s replies, she’d called 911 then she’d heard the shots and she only stayed alive because she was smart enough to hide and the partner had to get out before he could find her because the sirens were approaching. Before the cops could stop her, she saw her mother’s dead, bloody body in the front entry of this same fucking house. And she knew her father had been hit the same night and left for dead but, by a miracle, he’d survived. Dave hadn’t made his wife’s funeral because he was in a hospital room with a tube down his throat. Merry and Rocky had gone with their grandparents. He also knew she’d testified at the hearing.

And Layne knew this because she’d told him, in the dark of night, in their bed, her body pressed to his, hers trembling like she was freezing to death.

And Layne knew one last thing.

Raquel Merrick Astley would do anything to take down a dirty cop.

“I can’t talk her out of it, man,” Merry was still whispering.

“You should have never told her, Merry, Jesus!” he exploded. “What was in your fuckin’ head?”

“She… Tanner… fuck,” Merry hissed. “When you got shot… fuck… let’s just say, Roc was not good. She kept at me, wanted to know what you were workin’. And, big man, you know, you know, when Rocky keeps at you, you got no choice but to talk. Fuck, more than once in my career I wished I had her in an interrogation room with me. She’s the master.”

He knew this. She wanted to know something, she was a dog with a bone, and not just any dog, a vicious pit bull. She never let anything go. Hell, their first Christmas together, she knew every last present he gave her before she opened them. He’d learned to go shopping last minute on Christmas Eve or the day before her birthday and then come home and keep her occupied in a multitude of ways where she couldn’t use her mouth to speak and he’d had to do it for as long as he could so she’d be exhausted or she’d always know what gifts he’d bought her.

He’d thought it was kind of cute and he definitely liked the exhausting her part.

Now he did not find it cute.

Merry interrupted his thoughts.

“Did you hear me, Tanner? She was not good when you –”

Layne cut him off, his mind on other things, namely keeping Raquel Merrick Astley alive until her next birthday.

“I’ll talk to her,” he declared.

“Oh boy,” Merry muttered, rocking back on his heels and looking to the heavens.

Layne ignored him. “She start this gig?”

“Not yet,” Merry answered.

“What’s her plan?”

“You’re not gonna get it outta her head,” Merry warned.

“What’s her plan, Merry?”

Merry pulled in a breath then blew it out. Then he said, “She’s gonna reel him in.”

“Come again?”

“She’s gonna get on his radar, hopin’ he’ll be interested, which I know he will, then she’s gonna get him to ask her out and get close.”

Layne felt the leg of lamb, cooked with rosemary and garlic and served with roasted potatoes, homemade tzatziki sauce and fresh, still hot from the oven, homemade pita bread followed with homemade baklava smothered in a sugary honey roil in his stomach.

“She intends to sleep with him?” he whispered.

Merry gave him an unhappy look.

Then he said, “We’re talkin’ Rocky here, brother. My sister goes the distance.”

“Fuck,” Layne was still whispering. “Fuck!” he repeated, not in a whisper.

“You talk to her, she’s gonna be pissed… at me,” Merry informed him.

“I’ll take that chance,” Layne snarled.

“Fuck, now you’re pissed at me,” Merry muttered, studying him.

“Believe it, brother,” Layne clipped. “You should have nipped this in the bud.”

Merry threw his arms out. “This is Rocky!” He took a step closer to Layne. “We been skirtin’ this awhile, Tanner, but here we are. It’s over, long over, but we all know shit’s so fucked up between you two, it isn’t ever gonna get sorted. We also know shit’s so wound up between you, there’ll always be a connection. No,” his hand came up almost in Layne’s face, close enough for Layne to snap his mouth shut, not close enough for Layne to feel the need to take a swing, “do not bullshit me. There’s shit you don’t know and I’m not gonna tell you but let’s just say the last eighteen years you aren’t the only one been lickin’ those wounds, keepin’ ‘em fresh.”

Another shot to the gut, this one bounced around, tearing through a variety of organs.

“You are shitting me, Merry, she walked out on me,” Layne ground out.

“I’m not goin’ there,” Merry shot back.

“You brought it up,” Layne bit off.

“I’m just sayin’, you are not comin’ at this in a position of not bein’ in the know of what I’m dealin’ with here. Roc gets somethin’ in her head, nothin’s gonna shake it out and you and I both know it. The other part of this is, even with that, you aren’t in the position to do dick about it.”

“You wanna bet?” Layne asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Tell me somethin’, brother, she went all out tonight, why isn’t she here?”

Layne straightened and didn’t answer which he knew, fuck him, was the answer.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. She wanted to be in on our little chat.” Merry indicated the two of them with a hand jerking back and forth. “Tonight was her idea. Dad didn’t win a fuckin’ leg of lamb in a poker game, for fuck’s sake. Rocky bought it. She isn’t stupid enough to think she can head into this without as much firepower at her back as she can get. She went to your house, proverbial olive branch, and you shoved it up her ass. I get that right, brother?” Merry asked cuttingly.

Layne didn’t answer this time because he was grinding his teeth.

“You’re blown,” Merry stated. “You got two sons, an ex-wife shacked up with the town asshole and three bullets for your troubles. Rutledge knows you took your shot, he nearly took your life makin’ his warning for you to back off so I reckon, since you’re still breathin’, he figures he’s got nothin’ to fear from you. He can only guess I gave you the intel. You’re close with every cop in that department, half of us you worked with when you served.”

“Yeah, but I’m closest to you and Colt,” Layne reminded him.

“And?”

“And because of that he’ll make Rocky in about a second,” Layne bit out.

“Yeah, and Rocky knows that. What Rutledge doesn’t know is that I’m close to my sister and I talk to her. Not a lotta cops share shit like this with their sister. Wife, maybe, their sister? No freaking way.”

“That is, if their sister didn’t hear their mother get murdered by a dirty cop in their own damned house,” Layne reminded him and watched Merry flinch. “He’ll make her.”

Merry recovered quickly. “She’s not dumb, Tanner. She’ll play it smart.”

“He’ll make her,” Layne repeated.

“He won’t make her, big man. Shit, he’s got someone in that Department on his ass. Because he felt the heat from you, he doesn’t know if it’s me, Colt, Sully or Haines. He’s too busy tryin’ to figure out which one of us made him to even think about makin’ Rocky.”

Layne was done with this conversation.

“I’m gonna talk to her,” he stated.

Merry was done too.

“Suit yourself but one thing. I got here tonight and she was in her head. Roc goes into her head for only one reason, and that’s when she’s got her feelings hurt. I know it isn’t her fuckwad husband because she won’t even speak to him except through an attorney and she tells me all about that shit. My guess is, whatever went down this morning between you and her, you scored a direct hit. I love you, man, you know it, sucked losin’ you when you two disintegrated and I’m fuckin’ thrilled to have you back, but I love her a fuckuva lot more than you and I find out she’s in her head because you can’t let go of something that happened eighteen years ago and still feel like gettin’ your licks in, you got me to worry about. You get me?”

“Like I said, Garrett, I’ll talk to her,” Layne gritted from between his teeth.

“Yeah,” Merry replied, watching him closely, “I know you will. I know from this conversation that you got her best interests at heart too, no matter that other shit. You just gotta know that she’s not in a good space right now. She’s the town chump, sleepin’ on her brother’s couch and knowin’ dirt is sittin’ at a desk next to her brother, that same dirt ordered a hit on her ex-boyfriend. She’s exposed, Tanner, vulnerable. I do not get a good feelin’ about you havin’ a chat with her when she’s this way and the only reason I’ll allow it is because I trust you. Don’t fuck that up.”

Layne knew Merry loved his sister, more than anyone on this earth, but he was done.

“One more word, Merry,” Layne said softly. “You know me better than that shit. One more word, I’m gonna take it personal.”

“Any other time, I’d know she could fight her corner –”

“This morning, I didn’t know she’d left Astley and I didn’t know any of this shit. You also know what happened between us and you know what it did to me. Cut me some fuckin’ slack.”

“Yeah,” Merry said quietly, his face had changed, it had gone soft, but his eyes had grown intense. “Yeah, brother. I know what it did to you.” He paused, leaned in and his voice dropped even quieter. “I know what happened too, I know more than you, brother. I know why it happened so maybe you’ll cut Roc some slack.”

Layne felt his body freeze again but before he could say a word, Merry finished.

“Got a date.”

Then he reached down, nabbed his smokes off the table and walked into the house.

Layne grabbed his smokes too and shook one out.

Today was a two cigarette day.

Absolutely.