Etched in Bone
Page 87

He’d taken Pete Denby with him yesterday when he went to talk to his landlords about releasing him from the lease on the one-bedroom apartment near Market Street. The man had wanted him to continue paying the rent but also wanted to have use of the apartment to rent to another tenant. Monty had responded to that by indicating he would continue using the apartment—and would make sure he used the water that was included in the rent. The next ploy was complaining about the condition of the apartment—the lousy paint job, the nicks on the counters, the curling corner of linoleum in the kitchen. Monty asked if the man would like to see the photographs he’d taken of the apartment the day he moved in, which would prove the place looked exactly like it had then.
Finally the landlord’s wife, who had rented the place to Monty, reminded her husband that Lieutenant Montgomery shouldn’t be penalized for wanting to live closer to the police station where he worked.
So the papers Pete had already prepared were signed, releasing Monty from the rental agreement. He’d bet a week’s pay that this morning’s edition of the Lakeside News would have a listing for the apartment at twice what Monty had been paying.
“Thing is,” Jimmy said, “there are two empty apartments in this building and another empty one in the other building. That’s just a waste when someone could be living there.”
“I don’t think the terra indigene are planning to hire anyone else to work in the Courtyard. Not for a while anyway.”
“Wouldn’t have to work for those . . . for them. Folks could rent those places by the week or the month. I could take care of that, be a kind of overseer.”
“Eve Denby is the property manager for these three buildings. That’s her job.”
“Then why isn’t she doing anything about renting out those places? Not doing her job if she’s letting apartments stay empty.”
He heard the whiny belligerence in his brother’s voice. Which meant Jimmy wasn’t getting the answer he wanted—or needed? “Gods, did you already tell some people they could flop in one of the apartments?”
“What if I did? The places are empty. Where’s the harm?”
“Anyone who comes here without the Others’ permission is an intruder. They deal harshly with intruders. These apartments aren’t on the open market for rent. They’re only offered to Courtyard employees. And don’t go thinking you can have overnight ‘guests.’ You are a guest, and the only reason they haven’t tossed you out yet is that Simon, Vlad, and Tess like Mama. And if you think you can sneak someone in and pick the lock on one of the apartments upstairs so your pals can squat until they’re caught, think again. They’ll be caught before they can blink. They will disappear, and you will be standing at the curb with Sandee and the kids, and your choices will be getting out of Lakeside or going to jail.” Or worse. “Jimmy, your free ride as a guest is pretty much done. If you’re going to stay in Lakeside, you should find work and another place to live while you still have the choice.”
“Fuck that.” Anger in Jimmy’s eyes now. “You don’t work for the freaks. How come you’re living here?”
“Because Elayne was murdered at the Toland train station, and the people responsible came after Lizzy, thinking she knew more than she did. Staying here was the only way to keep her safe.”
A moment of shock and what Monty would have sworn looked like genuine sympathy.
“I didn’t know,” Jimmy said.
“Well, that’s why I took the apartment here when it was offered.” There were other reasons, personal and professional, but there was no point complicating things. Not with Jimmy.
“Look, CJ . . .”
The outer door opened. Kowalski stood on the threshold.
“Captain Burke is at the Courtyard. He wants to see you before we go to the station.”
Monty headed out, then stopped and eyed Jimmy. “You’d better tell those people the apartments aren’t for rent. If the Others link you to any more trouble in the Courtyard, Sandee and the kids will be relocating on their own.”
“And where will I be?”
“You’ll be in jail, if you’re lucky. And Jimmy? If that happens, there is nothing I can do to help you.”
• • •
Vlad reviewed the booklists, then eyed his assistant manager. “Tell me again why I want to order four dozen of the same book?”
“Because we’re going to act as a distribution hub for a few other bookstores,” Merri Lee replied with a smile that was meant to be disarming.
Vlad wasn’t fooled. Just because the female pack weren’t predators in the traditional sense didn’t mean you could let your guard down. But, to be fair, there was a rational reason for what they did.
Usually. Mostly. Sometimes.
“I don’t remember agreeing to be a hub.”
“Yes, you did. Sort of. Well, maybe Simon was the one who agreed, but one of you did. Anyway, Toland publishers don’t want to break cartons of books anymore, and we can’t sell four dozen of the same book at Howling Good Reads. And we have the easiest access to the Intuit and terra indigene publishers in the eastern part of the High North because they can ship books to us across Lake Tahki. But books that will sell here will also sell at the bookstores in Ferryman’s Landing, as well as the libraries on the island and mainland. Then we send more of the books to John Wolfgard in Bennett, as well as to Shelley Bookman and Jesse Walker in Prairie Gold. Meg wasn’t sure if the Intuit village at Sweetwater had a library. We were going to draft a letter for you and Simon to review before sending it to Jackson Wolfgard to see if anyone there would like to participate. In turn, John Wolfgard will order books from publishers in the Midwest or on the West Coast if he can reach them, and send some copies on to us.”