Out of Body

“Bye then,” she said.

He grinned. “Bye then, Marley. We’ve still got a date for tonight, remember?”

She all but danced in place. “We do? Oh, yes, we do. See you then. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Marley jogged away and ducked down a side street.

Gray’s attention switched at once to a police cruiser heading his way. It swerved to a stop at the curb beside him.

“What are you doin’ here?” Nat Archer said through the open front-passenger window of the car. He threw open the door and got out.

“You tell me first,” Gray said. He didn’t like it that he hadn’t been able to hang on to Marley longer.

“According to you I was keeping you out of bed earlier. When you left, you said that’s where you were heading—bed.”

“I changed my mind. Is that a new crime?”

“Only if you make it into something I don’t like,” Nat said. He wasn’t known to be argumentative, but no one would know that here and now.

Bucky Fist climbed from the other side of the car and crossed his arms on top. He wore dark sunglasses. “Hey there, Gray. I bet you think we’re followin’ you around.”

He did. “Why would you do a thing like that? I’m boring. You making any progress with the case?”

“Nope. Nothin’s movin’, not one damn thing. Except the phones. Those phones are ringin’ off the hooks. Lemon’s ready to quit if somethin’ doesn’t happen soon.”

Gray wrinkled his nose and thought about it. “What would make you happy? More bodies?”

“Don’t goad me,” Nat said.

“Me?” Gray feigned shock.

“Where’s your lady friend?” Nat said, catching Gray unprepared.

“Who would that be?”

“Don’t get cute with me. You know who I mean. Your new psychic amour. Is she still inside?” Nat indicated the Caged Bird.

They hadn’t seen Marley on the sidewalk. That was something positive.

“How the hell do you know who I’ve been with or where I’ve been? Or where to find me?”

A slow smile spread over Nat’s memorable face. “You got a short memory? I’ve got my ways—you found that out earlier.”

Bucky came around the car and onto the sidewalk. He hitched his wrinkled suit jacket across his chest and did up a button. He wore a shoulder holster and it bulged.

“You go on in and make sure nobody leaves,” Nat said to his partner. “I’ll be right there.”

Like the good command-taker he was, Bucky walked into the club, his pant legs flapping. Gray noticed he kept on his sunglasses. Maybe he used them to look inscrutable.

When they were alone Nat said, “Now you can answer the question—what were you doing in this club?”

“Visiting old friends,” Nat said.

“When did Pipes Dupuis get to be an old friend of yours?”

He ruckled his brow. “Who told you she was there?”

“Anonymous tip.”

“Ah, of course. So how about letting me in on who you’ve got following me around.” The idea irked Gray. When he’d been with the department his ability to lose tails was legendary. “I must be losing my touch.”

“I doubt it,” Nat said, suddenly really interested in the sky. “Now and then a real talent comes my way, that’s all. I want you with me. Let’s get inside.”

He ought to tell the man Pipes had already left with Sidney and Danny. “Would it be okay if I wait out here?”

Nat hesitated.

“It’s a stuffy place and I’m tired,” he said. “I don’t want to drift off on you.”

“Yeah,” Nat said. “It wouldn’t look good, you asleep on a barroom table. Leave this sidewalk before I get back and I’ll have you picked up so fast you’ll think it’s yesterday.”

“Nice,” Gray said. “I’m not leaving.”

Nat shrugged his big shoulders inside a gray seersucker jacket. He strode across the sidewalk and into the club.

Gray rested his arms on top of the police vehicle, just the way Bucky had. Too bad he didn’t have a pair of cool shades. He grinned and let his eyes close. Damn, he was tired.

A tap on his shoulder sent a shock down his spine. He maintained his casual position and looked over his shoulder.

“Hi,” the man who stood there said. “Gray Fisher?”

Giving out his name or any other personal information to strangers was at about the bottom of Gray’s list.

“I’m looking for Marley Millet,” the man said. “I was told she might be with you.”

“She’s not.”

“Is that never, or not anymore?”

“It’s ‘I’m on my own right now,’ which you can see, and I don’t like people who sneak up on me. Are you a friend of Nat Archer’s?” As a tail, this guy would have a hard time. He would be difficult not to see.

“Never heard of him,” he said.

Tall, dark and handsome was a cliché, but it described the dark-haired, blue-eyed man Gray was looking at.

“Where do you live?” the other man asked.

“I didn’t tell you my name when you asked. What makes you think you’ll get my address?”

“Worth a try.”

Gray rolled to lean his back on the car. He crossed his arms. “Who are you?”

“Sykes Millet.”

Not one response came to mind.

“Marley’s brother. Her only brother,” the guy said.

Gray straightened up and slowly extended a hand. “Gray Fisher.”

“Yes, I know.” Sykes Millet shook Gray’s hand.

“Uh-huh. You already said so. Marley left.”

Sykes smiled very faintly. “Mmm. I’m very fond of my sister.”

Gray wasn’t slow. “It must be nice to have siblings you get along with.” He was being warned off—or at least told his intentions had better be honorable.

“You don’t have any family?”

“Just my dad.” As far as he knew, and it was none of Millet’s business.

“Are you married?”

Shit. “No. Never did get around to that. You?”

Sykes laughed and Greek gods came to Gray’s mind. Now he was getting fanciful. He had better watch himself if he kept on hanging around with the mystical Marley.

“I take it that’s a no,” Gray said.

“You take it right,” Sykes said. “I watch out for Marley.”

Gray didn’t doubt it if this “call” was typical for Sykes. “That’s a good thing.”

“You used to be a cop.”

“I’m starting to think everyone either was or is a cop. You’ve been doing a little investigating yourself.”

“That’s a yes?” Sykes said.

With a sigh, Gray said, “Yes.”

“Now you’re a writer.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get too deeply into my siblings’ affairs,” Sykes said.