“Ghost,” Tobias said, making him jump. “Keys and phone, please. On the dresser. And a shirt.”
“We’re not going to the emergency room,” Sullivan said.
“No, we’re going to see my parents.”
Sullivan frowned, but Tobias wasn’t compromising on stitches, and if they couldn’t go to the ER, there were only so many other options. His papa might be angry at him, but he wouldn’t turn away a patient. In this, at least, Tobias trusted him wholeheartedly.
“Ghost, please,” Tobias repeated, and Ghost turned and went up the stairs.
“The USB,” Sullivan said, a little thickly. “We hid it in a baggie in the toilet’s reserve tank. If he gets it...”
“I’ll tag along,” Raina said.
“Be careful.” Tobias felt disloyal even as he said it, but Sullivan broke into strained laughter.
“He’s sweet,” Raina called over her shoulder as she swept up the stairs after Ghost.
“You think she’ll be able to stop Ghost from taking the USB if he finds it?”
“I dunno,” Sullivan said. “But if anyone could, it’d be her. I wouldn’t be surprised to get back and find that one of them has killed the other.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Or they’ll be best friends. I’m not sure which scenario is scarier, to be honest.”
“Hold still.” Tobias kissed Sullivan’s forehead. “You called her?”
“Yesterday. I wanted to make sure that my client couldn’t use her as leverage against us if he figured out who we were.”
“Wait. You explained this whole thing and told her to watch out for a bad guy client by voicemail?”
“I said it was urgent!”
Tobias snorted a laugh despite himself. “She got here safely, at least. Will you be in much trouble?”
“Probably. She’s not a forgiving person. I wasn’t as communicative as I should’ve been, and sleeping with a client won’t go over well. I think I can kiss that promotion good-bye, but if I’m slick, maybe she won’t fire me. I did solve an unsolvable case. Well, we did. Sort of.”
Ghost and Raina walked back downstairs in tandem at that point, Ghost holding their things, Raina with the baggie holding the USB.
“Thank you.” Tobias shrugged hastily into the shirt, which was long-sleeved and covered his bruises, a thoughtful choice that was as much of an apology as he or Sullivan was likely to get from Ghost. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“Call me if you need me,” Sullivan said to Raina, who lifted an imperious eyebrow.
“It’s unlikely.”
“I know,” he replied. “But still. The cop’s name is...fuck, I forget, but Lisbeth will be here any minute, and—”
“Sullivan?” A woman pushed the French doors open and stuck her head through. She was in her mid-to late-thirties and wore a demure blue blouse and dark slacks. She glanced around the room, zeroing in on Sullivan where he sat against the wall. “I’m assuming someone called an ambulance?”
“Long story, but no,” Sullivan said. “We’ve got someone to help, though. Tobias, this is Lisbeth. Lisbeth, this is the college student, Raina, and Ghost.”
Lisbeth turned quiet blue eyes on Ghost. “So you’re the one all the fuss is about.” She gestured to Sullivan’s arm. “Is this your handiwork?”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Ghost said.
“We’re leaving.” Tobias hauled Sullivan to his feet. He was shaky but capable, standing on his own, which was a comfort.
“Do you need a ride?” Lisbeth asked.
Sullivan shook his head. “Stay here for your guy. Raina can fill you in.”
“As best as I can, on a two-minute explanation,” Raina said, not entirely friendly about it.
“Come on,” Tobias demanded, tugging on Sullivan, who resisted.
Sullivan pointed at Ghost with his good hand. “Don’t trust him. Not for a second.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Ghost muttered.
Raina gestured to Lisbeth’s feet. “The pumps—Dolce? Last year?”
Lisbeth smiled. “Good eye. I fell hard for the laminated Dauphine leather.”
“God save me,” Sullivan said, and finally let Tobias haul him out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tobias let them in with his key. The house was still and shadowed, and he got Sullivan propped up in the kitchen with a whispered admonishment to keep the pressure on the wound before heading upstairs.
As he worked his way through the hall, he tried to shake off the feeling of being an intruder. It had been a matter of weeks only that he’d been gone, but in that time the familiar had become somehow alien. Everything was the same—family photographs on the wall, furniture in the right places, same knickknacks on the shelves—but there was something in the air he couldn’t shake. He half expected to find dust everywhere, but there wasn’t a speck anywhere.
He dodged the creaking floorboard and knocked softly on his parents’ door to avoid waking his brothers and sisters. Papa answered a moment later in his fuzzy brown robe, his sleepy expression vanishing when he took in Tobias and the blood on his hands and shirt.
“I’m fine,” Tobias murmured quickly. “I’m not hurt. It’s a friend. I need your help, Papa.”
Tobias never would’ve described his papa as a hesitant man. His manman was no more tentative; years as physicians had taught them both that there would be time for conversation post-crisis. So it was no surprise to have them both following him down the hall a moment later, medical kits in hand, without argument.
In the kitchen, they found Sullivan standing over the sink instead of on the wooden stool where Tobias had left him, his bloody shirt dripping onto the stainless steel.
“Hi, I’m Sullivan.” He gave a small wave with his good arm. “Sorry for making a mess out of your kitchen.”
His parents flew into action; in moments there was a tray for tools and gauze and a bowl filled with water. Tobias was pressed into service getting towels. His parents murmured in Kreyòl to each other as they worked together to get the wound numbed, cleaned, and stitched up. If Tobias had doubted his own unsuitability for the profession, this would’ve confirmed it—he couldn’t bear to look at the wound. He spent the time distracting himself by alternately
