Golden Trail
Page 28

Merry came in, eyes on Layne, and made a bee-line.
“Hey Merry,” Mimi called from behind the counter.
“Hey Meems,” Merry called back as he arrived at the table and looked down at his mug. “Tanner, buddy, no cookie?”
“You wanna keep gettin’ laid, Garrett, you can’t get a gut. That cappuccino is skinny. Just lookin’ out for you, man.”
Merry grinned at him and patted his flat abs before he sat down, muttering, “Good friends like you, hard to find.”
He meant that in more than one way and Layne studied him closely.
Merry didn’t make him wait for it. “Hear Rocky’s got herself a new beau.”
“Merry,” Layne murmured.
Merry leaned forward and whispered, “Wildfire, big man, it’s all over town her Merc didn’t leave your drive last night.”
Jesus, it was barely eleven o’clock. Fucking hell, but Natalie Ulrich had a big mouth.
“What I wanna know is, in less than twenty-four hours, how do you two go from not acknowledging each other’s existence to Roc spending the night at your house?”
“It was more like thirty-four hours,” Layne corrected him.
“Whatever, Tanner, how –?”
Layne cut him off. “I was at the Station when she made her first play on Rutledge.”
Light dawned and Merry sat back on a smile. “Not good timing.”
“No,” Layne agreed.
“So, you saw the play and decided to deflect it by smacking Raquel Astley’s ass in the middle of the bullpen on a Thursday afternoon?” Merry asked.
“Seemed a good way to go,” Layne answered and Merry’s smile got bigger.
Then he asked, “Now, you wanna tell me how that leads to her car at your house?”
“We chatted, I explained the faults in her plan, she saw my logic, we decided to play Rutledge another way.”
“You gonna let me in on that?”
“Yeah,” Layne said and didn’t make him wait either. He leaned forward and his voice dropped before he explained. “She and I are faking a reconcile…” he started then he went on to tell Merry the entirety of the plan while Merry listened without saying a word.
When Layne was done, Merry stated, “Gotta say, not happy she’s involved in this shit at all but at least I like this better than Roc’s scheme.”
“I do too. An additional benefit is that I’m gonna make it so Astley hears, and sees, if I can manage it, a lot of shit that he’s not gonna like. He shoved his piece down Rocky’s throat, I’m crawlin’ down his.”
Merry’s smile turned cruel. It was a smile Layne had seen before, not often, but he’d seen it. Merry was a cop and therefore his sense of justice was highly tuned. But Merry was Merry and his personal sense of justice, especially when it came to his sister, was another matter altogether.
Through his smile, Merry whispered, “I’m with you, brother.”
“Good,” Layne returned. “Then I need you to do two things. One, brief Dave about this shit and two, give me intel on how I can hit Astley the hardest.”
“You two don’t move in the same social circles, Layne.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t find ways for him to see me and see me with Rocky.”
Merry lifted his chin. “I’ll put together what I know, e-mail it to you.”
Layne sat back and nodded.
Then he changed the subject. “You got anything on Stew?”
Merry shook his head. “Zilch. Heard you talked to Colt and Sully.”
“Yesterday, after I dealt with Rocky. Found out Colt, particularly, is not a big fan of Stew’s rather than just generally thinking he’s a f**kwad like everyone else does. They’re happy to nose around.” He lifted his mug and took a swallow then muttered, “Even so, it’s lookin’ like I’m gonna hafta give that time.”
And it was time he did not have nor could he afford.
“Or, you can let Gabrielle sleep in the bed she made for herself,” Merry suggested and Layne’s eyes moved back to him.
“She’s my kids’ mother.”
“I dig that, brother but –”
“She’s my kids’ mother, Garrett.”
Merry closed his mouth and nodded.
Then he opened it and asked quietly, “You and Roc gonna be able to –?”
Layne interrupted him. “We’re fine.”
“Big man –”
“We’re fine, Merry,” Layne repeated firmly.
Merry closed his mouth and nodded again but he didn’t hide the fact that he was far from convinced.
Then he sucked back his cappuccino in one gulp and slammed his mug on the table.
“Got your back, whenever you need it,” he said, standing and wiping foam from his mouth.
“I know,” Layne replied.
“Later,” Merry said on a low, short wave, turned, lifted a chin to Mimi and went out the door.
Then Layne made the decision that, even though he wanted to pay a visit to Stew at work, try a direct approach, if he wanted to keep his sons in oatmeal, he needed to rack up billable hours. And nothing racked up billable hours like a woman who had money to burn and nothing but time on her hands and she used that time to convince herself that her faithful husband was being unfaithful and no matter what Layne said to her to assure her, she wouldn’t believe it.
So Layne headed to Indy to watch a man eat a club sandwich on his own while reading the paper. He broke the tedium of this only slightly by taking photos of that man eating his club sandwich and reading the paper. Then he headed back to the office to run off some invoices and print out the digital photos he took to add to the already fat file at the same time again wishing he had a receptionist.
Now he was moving through his bedroom because it was time to pick up Rocky for the game.
He was making his way through the open room at the top of the stairs when his cell rang. He yanked it from his back pocket and looked at his display that said “Raquel Calling”. They’d traded numbers and made plans while at Mimi’s the day before.
He flipped the phone open and put it to his ear. “Layne.”
“Hey,” Rocky replied.
“Hey,” Layne repeated as he walked down the stairs.
“Listen, I have a situation,” she told him.
He stopped by the fridge and gave her his full attention.
“What situation?”
“See…” she hesitated, “today hasn’t been the greatest. I don’t know if I can make the game.”