Luckily, my hormones weren’t entirely engaged by Dane’s slick good looks. So I was resisting.
By the time Dane put down the phone, I was back in control again. This was Dane the senator, not Max the biker. He had influence out the wazoo and appearances to keep up. A nobody like Tina Clancy didn’t fit into that picture.
“We lucked out,” he said. “Judge Snodgrass is an old friend of both Julius and Paddy. He’s willing to take my word that Gloria wasn’t rational. He can’t get the charges dropped, of course. But the judge can put in a good word and have bail posted. I told him Andre had served with Special Ops and suffers from PTSD, so he’s willing to see it done tonight.”
Snodgrass was my boss. That Dane/Max had been able to extract a promise from him with a single call pretty much proved the senator had landed my job for me.
I wanted to hug him for everything he was doing for us. He looked as if he expected it. I had a sad feeling it wouldn’t stop with hugs. Dane’s testosterone and Max’s memories were a combustible combination.
He was still sitting in his recliner, so I leaned over, stroked his bristly jaw, and kissed him in gratitude. “I owe you more than one, Danny Boy. I’ve got a long ride to Towson and an early wake-up call in the morning, so let’s not think whatever you’re thinking, okay?”
“For saving me from Glenys, I’ll let you go this time, Justy,” he agreed wearily. “But I think we should both just take Dane’s money and retire to the South Pacific.”
“You might have a point.” And I actually meant it, except I kept picturing my mother running from town to town all my life, and knew running from my duties would solve nothing. “But unfortunately, we’re not cowards. So let’s see where this road leads us.”
“I’ve already been to hell. Can’t be much worse,” he said cynically, getting up to see me out.
I thought I saw him standing in his window when I drove away. Lonely didn’t cover how either of us was feeling.
• • •
I drove the freeway to Towson with no traffic or monsters stopping me, only a few lumbering semis to dodge. And I could have sworn I saw another soldier in camouflage strolling down a lane with a screaming infant, but that could have been wishful thinking. Peace on earth, goodwill toward men . . . Lovely dream. I needed to focus on Andre.
I was only a newbie lawyer. Despite my license, I’d never worked the courthouse, and the only police action I’d seen had been from the wrong side of the bars. By the time I arrived at the precinct, figured out the Byzantine jail system, and sprang Andre, it was pushing midnight. As we emerged from the building and walked to the nearly empty parking lot, I noticed he had turned pretty gray around the edges. After all the warnings, I worried about him.
“You’re not looking so good, Boss,” I said. “Do we need to stop for anything before heading out?” We were still a good half hour’s drive from the Zone.
“It’s nothing, Clancy. Just take me home. How is everyone holding up?” He sank down into the passenger seat without fighting me for the keys, so I knew he was done in.
“Sarah is back. The bomb shelter is good, but you’ll need a new secret tunnel. I have a lead on getting rid of one of our patients. Nancy Rose probably has insurance, so we could send her to a local hospital if you think Acme will back off now that the witch is dead. Still working on the others.”
“Gloria was my godmother,” Andre said without inflection. “She was a good person once.”
We both sat silently thinking about how power corrupts. Or that’s what I was thinking about. I wasn’t sure what Andre was doing—until he spoke again.
“I’m not going to make it back. Just park in the alley and call my father. He’ll know what to do. Stay on Snodgrass’s good side if you know what’s good for you.”
He leaned the seat back and just like that, he conked out. No warning, just out like a light.
Like our comatose patients.
17
I’d been counting on Andre to carry his share of the load, and now he was as useless as the homeless guys in the bomb shelter. I knew this wasn’t any ordinary sleep. A strong man like Andre checking out like that gave me cold chills. Being left out here alone with no backup had me pondering Seattle again. But I couldn’t desert a friend, and whatever else he was, Andre was a friend.
Just to give me heart failure and to prove the Zone wasn’t on my side, the road beneath my wheels began to rumble as I hit Edgewater. Streetlights swayed and one of the gargoyles took flight. Andre didn’t stir. It was the wee hours of Monday and even Chesty’s was closed, so no one ran screaming into the streets. Fatalistically, I waited for the road to open and swallow us.
The rumble stopped before I drove up the hill. I had to wonder if the pink particles were eating their way to hell and creating chasms beneath our feet. Or maybe the Zone had just sneezed. Maybe instead of worrying about rescuing Bill, I should be thinking about evacuating the area.
Thanks to Andre’s comatose state, I had no one with whom to share my fears. I punched his arm. Hard. He didn’t stir.
I tried erasing worry with grumbling as I parked in the alley and trekked upstairs to wake Julius. I’d gotten myself all tarted up and contemplated surrendering my nonexistent virtue to a schizophrenic senator to save Andre’s sorry ass for what? And didn’t it just figure that the first time I relied on a man, he conked out.
I started remembering the other times I’d counted on Andre and he’d disappeared. Maybe he had sleeping sickness. Maybe I should have one of the baby docs examine him. No telling what kind of disease he’d picked up overseas. I was back to fretting by the time I reached his father’s apartment.
Julius only nodded sadly when I pounded on his door and woke him up. He thanked me for everything I’d done, assured me that Andre would be just fine, that I should go home and get some sleep. I hated that. I wanted to make things better. Stupid.
Too tired and shaken to argue, I went back to my place, hoping I wouldn’t have a dead body in my car when I went to work in a few hours.
I needed anger to cover the pain, a trick I’d discovered in the course of my misspent youth. If I stayed angry long enough, it obliterated all softer emotions. Sometimes anger even crushed the fear, but that’s when I got stupid. I was trying to avoid stupid these days.
Wondering if Schwartz was sleeping soundly in his bed across the hall, or if Paddy was up inventing ways to burn down the house, I unlocked my door and hunted for my cat. Milo was always glad to see me, even if he just needed me for a pillow.
A dog might run and jump into my arms and lick my face. Milo merely glanced at me disdainfully and circled his empty bowl. See, me and Milo were soul mates. All we needed was to be fed. I added some dry food to his bowl but didn’t bother feeding myself.
I dropped my clothes on the floor in the dark and was pulling back the covers on the bed when I noticed the rectangular shape of my stolen tablet computer lying on top of them. I didn’t think I’d left it there. I’m rather cautious with expensive machinery.
My nerves already rattled, I glanced around, but the sliding doors were shut and barred. I slipped on an old T-shirt and turned on a light.
Pressing the power button, I opened to a screen that read,
It was signed,
The Fat Chick? The one in the wheelchair?
No e-mail address. The message was a damned wallpaper covering up my screen. Some screwup had hacked my tablet and replaced the background with—
I’d wished for a rulebook. And daddy dearest had provided? No, the Fat Chick. How had she accessed a
