Golden Trail (The 'Burg Series) Page 21

  He stared at her and he knew she had ten years of that. Ten years of keeping her distance and protecting herself from Astley, even in her sleep.

  Layne let the knowledge that she was herself with him, could sleep open and sprawled and close to him and she didn’t give Astley that same gift sweep through him and he felt another golden trail left in its wake. That might make him a dick and it sucked that she had ten years of that but that trail shimmered through him all the same.

  He walked to her side of the bed and sat down. Her hair was dark against her neck and he slid his hand under it, through her hair and against her skin, pulling its heavy weight off her neck and to the back.

  She shifted at his touch, legs straightening and her head turned, even in the dim light he could see the movement was fluid.

  He knew her eyes had opened when she shot up to an elbow.

  “Layne?” Her voice was husky with sleep at the same time openly surprised.

  “Gotta get to my boys, baby,” he replied, his hand still in her hair, he cupped the back of her head.

  “You could have left a note,” she told him, her body starting to inch back but his fingers curled deeper into her hair against her scalp and she stopped.

  He ignored her. “You sleep okay?”

  “What? Yes.” The first was confused, the second was inching close to a snap. “What are you –?”

  “Six o’clock for Keira and pasta bake, yeah?”

  “Yes, Layne, I remember.” She was pressing back against his hand.

  “I’ll call you when I do the searches on Gaines.”

  Her head stopped pressing, she kept looking up at him and he knew her mood had changed when she spoke. “Okay, but I can’t take calls during class. You may have to leave me a message.”

  “Then call me when you can, I’ll be runnin’ him first thing.”

  “Okay.”

  “We gotta do it, we’ll activate Tripp tonight so you’ll need to find time to study those rosters if the searches come up clean.”

  “Okay,” she repeated, this time with a small nod of her head.

  “Good idea, baby, to keep your ears open if the kids start talkin’ about Youth Group. Report to me what you hear, anything, whether you think it’s strange or not.”

  “I will.”

  His fingers tensed against her scalp and he muttered, “Good. See you at six.”

  “See you at six.”

  “Later, sweetcheeks,” he murmured as he dropped his head, hers tipped back as his came down, not to pull away but so she could watch him and his lips brushed her parted-in-surprise ones. “Be good,” he whispered against her mouth. “No covert operations today, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed against his lips.

  He smiled against hers.

  Then he let her go, got up and walked out of her room.

  * * * * *

  Tripp was sitting on his stool in front of Layne, shoveling down oatmeal that he put four sugars into before nuking. Rocky might be happy about the oatmeal but she probably would frown on the four sugars.

  Jasper, not in attendance during the oatmeal discussion, was spooning up sugary cereal while standing at the end of the island.

  Layne was standing in front of it, hair still wet from his shower, sipping coffee.

  “So,” Jasper drawled and Layne’s eyes went to him to see his son’s were on Layne, “Rocky’s lack of security gonna mean she’ll need constant vigilance?”

  Layne watched his boy’s lips twitch.

  Jasper was giving him stick.

  More progress.

  “Likely,” Layne muttered against the rim of his mug and took a sip while he watched Jasper’s slow smile.

  Layne’s gaze moved to his younger boy and saw his head bowed, he was grinning into his oatmeal and his shoulders were shaking. Layne watched him struggle to compose his features, his head came up and twisted to his brother.

  “Dad takes pride in his work, Jas,” he announced. “He’s thorough.”

  “Yeah,” Jasper replied, “It’s good he’s so dedicated, no one will guess this whole thing is a big fake.”

  “Yeah,” Tripp agreed, “Heck, I know it’s a fake and even I’m wonderin’ if it’s a fake.”

  “I dig you, Tripp-o-matic,” Jasper returned.

  “Boys,” Layne said low, surprised he could make his voice a warning when he was fighting back a chuckle.

  Tripp’s eyes shot to him then down to his oatmeal and his shoulders started shaking again before Layne heard him snort.

  Jasper didn’t hide his amusement; he was flashing an open, huge, white-toothed smile.

  It pissed Layne off he had to throw a wet blanket on their mood but he had to so he did.

  “What’s happening at practice?” Layne asked, the smile fled from Jasper’s face and Tripp’s shoulders slumped.

  “It’s smoothin’ out,” Jasper answered but Tripp stayed silent.

  Layne studied his older boy. “You sure?”

  Jasper nodded. “He’s still bein’ a dick but it isn’t as bad as before and they got some chick who comes to practices sometimes and sits there with a notebook. He’s totally cool when she’s there. Like another coach,” Jasper answered and went on sharing. “Kids hate him, Dad, the whole team. Even Seth, his own son. Seth feels shit. Thinks everyone’s gonna hate him because they hate his Dad. He’s not really as bad as he plays in the games. He just knows Tripp’s better and he wants the team to win. He fucks up so his Dad’ll pull him but Coach just won’t.”

  That was another by-product of the formal complaints. Tripp had seen zero game time. None. And Jas’s action had dried up. He was still on the field but never got near the ball unless he was blocking for someone carrying it. The team’s morale was so low it was visible. They’d started the season undefeated but lost one, won the next by the skin of their teeth in overtime and the natives were getting restless.

  Layne nodded to Jasper and looked at Tripp. “Tripp, you think things are smoothin’ out too, Pal?”

  He heard Tripp suck in breath then he looked at his old man. “He’s a dick in the locker room.”

  Layne stared at his son then his eyes cut to Jasper.

  “Yeah,” Jasper confirmed. “That chick can’t come into the locker room and Coach gets bad. He lays it on me but mostly he lays it on Tripp.”

  “How bad?” Layne asked.

  “I can take it,” Tripp answered and his eyes moved to his younger boy.

  “How bad, Tripp?”

  Tripp shrugged. “He’s a dick, Dad, but I can take it.”

  Layne looked back at Jasper.

  “He can take it,” Jasper stated. “But still, it’s bad.”

  Layne clenched his jaw and felt the muscle move in his cheek.

  “I can take it, Dad,” Tripp repeated on a whisper and Layne caught his eyes. Tripp was looking at him steady, unblinking.

  He could take it.

  Another indication he was Layne’s son.

  “You tell me if you can’t,” Layne ordered.

  “Okay,” Tripp agreed.

  “No shit, Tripp and no shame in that. Got me?”

  Tripp nodded and grinned. “No shit, no shame, got you.”

  Layne felt his temper ebb and he grinned back. Then he looked between both of them.

  “A friend is comin’ to stay. He’ll be here tonight. Name’s Devin Glover. He’s an ex-PI. Good, solid guy, he’s been around the block and he taught your old man a lot.” Both Layne’s sons nodded. “He’s also a nut,” Layne went on and both Layne’s sons stared at him. “Total nut. You’ll get it when you meet him but, fair warning, the guy’s whacked.”

  “He’s not gonna fuck up pasta bake with Keira tonight, is he?” Jasper asked.

  “It could happen,” Layne answered honestly and Jas’s eyes got huge. “I’ll be here, Bud, I’ve got your back and, way you describe Keira, sounds like Dev is a member of her club.”

  Jasper’s face lost its worry and warmed. “Yeah, she’ll pr
obably think he’s a scream. Her long lost grandpa.”

  Layne smiled at his boy and then said to them both, “School.”

  Tripp moved quickly, rinsing his bowl and putting it in the dishwasher. Jasper took more than his usual time in getting his shit sorted so Tripp was out the door to the Charger before Jasper was even down the stairs with his books.

  Layne would understand when Jasper came up to him and handed him a piece of paper.

  “Mom’s schedule,” he mumbled.

  Layne nodded and pocketed the paper. “Good man.”

  Jasper nodded back and walked to the utility room door. Layne walked his coffee mug to the sink but turned to the door when Jasper called.

  “Everyone in school is talking about you and Rocky,” he informed Layne.

  “That’s kind of the point, Bud,” Layne replied quietly. “You cool with that?”

  “Everyone thinks it’s the shit, you bein’ with her,” Jas said instead of answering Layne’s question. “Apparently, they all knew about you guys, you know… before.” He went on and kept talking when Layne didn’t. “Guess they never shared with Tripp and me ‘cause we’re your sons.”

  Layne didn’t reply. Jasper had something to say and Layne was going to give him the chance to say it.

  “Tripp said Melody was here then she was gone,” Jasper noted.

  Layne kept his gaze steady on his son and stayed silent.

  “It’s not fake, is it?” Jasper asked softly and Layne studied his son thinking he had vastly underestimated Jasper too.

  “It was, Jas, it isn’t anymore.”

  Jasper nodded.

  Layne continued. “She doesn’t know that yet, though.”

  Jasper stared at him then his mouth twitched before, very slowly, it spread into a smile.

  Then Jasper shocked the shit out of Layne and walked straight into him, he bumped the side of his chest against his Dad’s like Layne had seen him doing to his buds.

  He stepped away, looking to the floor, mumbling, “Later, Dad.”

  “Later, Bud,” Layne returned.

  Layne stared at the door for long minutes after it closed. Then Blondie sauntered up to him and sat at his feet, head back, tongue lolling, the invitation to pet her or, preferably, give her a rubdown, opened.

  He turned and surveyed his house from the kitchen thinking he was beginning to like the place.

  He looked down at Blondie and asked, “You wanna go to work with me today?”

  She had no idea what he was saying but she got up on all fours, her body shaking with excitement and she barked.

  Layne decided to take that as a yes.

  * * * * *

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what the fuck is that?” Devin asked when Layne came through the door to his office. Devin’s eyes were on Blondie.

  Blondie ran forward and jumped on Devin’s wife beater covered chest.

  “It’s a dog, Dev,” Layne answered then ordered Blondie to get down.

  Blondie whipped her head toward Layne, whipped it back to Devin, aimed a lash of her tongue at his face, got nothing but air and then jumped down, put her nose to the ground and started her voyage of the discovery of his office.

  Devin scowled at her and then looked at Layne. “Jesus, boy, next thing I’ll find out is you drive a mini-van.”

  “That’s another reason I called you here all the way from Cleveland, Dev. I wanted you to help me pick the color,” Layne returned and Dev rolled his eyes.

  Then Devin walked to the reception desk and picked up a white cup of lidded coffee. A Mimi’s coffee.

  Devin was wearing a pair of dress pants he should have thrown away probably five years ago, a pair of scuffed shoes and his wife beater. Thick, gray, chest hair could be seen out of the top of the wife beater and the shock of white-gray hair on his head looked like he hadn’t even run his fingers through it after getting up from the couch. Total bedhead.

  “You didn’t get me a coffee?” Layne asked, walking into the room.

  “What am I, your nanny?” Dev asked back.

  Good to know Devin hadn’t changed. Layne knew the man would take a bullet for him but he’d give him lip the entire time he was doing it.

  “You go to Mimi’s in your wife beater?”

  Devin moved away from the reception desk to his bag spread open on the couch and Layne moved to the desk, dumping the folder with TJ Gaines’s file on it, turned to Dev and leaned back into it.

  “Woman runs that joint ain’t difficult to look at,” Dev muttered rather than answering Layne’s question which did answer Layne’s question that, yes, Dev wandered into Mimi’s wearing a wife beater like he’d wander up to his own kitchen counter and pour himself a mug of joe.

  “Yeah,” Layne agreed, “and her husband used to be center on the football team, he’s no less solid twenty some years down the line but his devotion to wife and family, coupled with his gun collection, means you should not go there.”

  “Can a man pay a woman a compliment?” Devin asked cantankerously and shrugged on a shirt.

  “Sure,” Layne replied and Devin buttoned his shirt, his eyes locking on Layne.

  “Well, now that we got all the heartwarming reunion shit outta the way, you run off what you got for me. I’m goin’ to the po-lice station to take a shower and I’ll want it ready when I get back.”

  It was clear Devin took some time last night to get the lay of the land. He’d never been to the ‘burg but he knew where to get coffee and where the police station was, two things Devin Glover was sure to take note of on any assignment.

  “Dev, no one knows you at the Station,” Layne reminded him. “You can’t waltz in there and take a shower. You can shower at my house.”

  “Your house two blocks away?” Dev shot back.

  Layne grinned at him. “No.”

  “Be back,” Dev stated, grabbing his coat and hoofing it out the door.

  Blondie barked at it.

  Layne tagged the file and walked into his office, hitting the power button on his computer as he picked up the phone to call the Station and tell them a crotchety old man was going to stroll in like he owned the place and take a shower and their best play was to let him. Kath picked up at reception at the Station, Dev showed up while Layne was talking to her and she instantly agreed.

  Layne went to his e-mail and found Merry’s intel about Astley and he also found that Natalie didn’t fuck around. As promised yesterday, she’d sent an e-mail with the names of people at work she thought might be able to help. She added addresses, phone numbers and copious commentary and she even made notes of who she’d already contacted to let them know someone would be calling them, helping out by making cold contacts warm. Checking the e-mail, Layne noted she’d sent it by eight o’clock last night and there were fifteen names on her list, eleven of them she’d already contacted.

  Natalie, Layne had discovered yesterday, did not like Dr. Jarrod Astley, this e-mail was added proof and indication that she really did not like him.

  He printed off the e-mails and put them in the file he’d created when he’d done his searches two weeks ago, making notes on the searches of what was probably now bogus due to Astley’s recent activities. He needed to start looking into TJ Gaines and he unfortunately didn’t have time to re-run Astley’s shit.

  He’d begun work on Gaines, and was not liking what he was finding, when his cell rang. The display said “Colt Calling”.

  “Layne,” he said after he put it to his ear.

  “Hey Tanner, you busy today?”

  “Yeah but what’s up?”

  “Merry gave us the rundown on Stew. I got a guy you might wanna talk to.”

  Layne sat back in his chair. “When?”

  “I gotta go with you. He’s not fond of strangers,” Colt told him.

  “Right. When?” Layne repeated.

  “How’re you fixed to meet me at the Station at one?”

  “I can do that,” Layne replied.

  “Got it. See you t
hen.”

  “Later.”

  Layne flipped his phone shut and Devin walked in carrying another cup from Mimi’s.

  “That for me?” Layne asked.

  Devin looked him in the eyes and took a sip, this being his answer.

  Then he walked to the desk opposite Layne, held out his hand and grunted, “File.”

  Layne grinned, picked up the Astley file, reached across the desk and gave it to Devin.

  Devin weighed it with his hand moving up and down and asked, “How long you been workin’ this?”

  “Haven’t really. There isn’t much there.”

  Devin put his cup down on Layne’s desk and opened the file, his eyes skimming the paper on the top. “Rely too much on computers these days,” he grumbled.

  “It’ll get you started.”

  Devin looked at Layne. “How deep do you wanna bury this guy?”

  “So deep he won’t remember what oxygen feels like.”

  Devin studied him. Then he nodded, grabbed his cup and turned to go.

  “Dev,” Layne called and Devin turned back. “Dinner, my house, be there at five thirty so I can introduce you to the boys and try to talk you into behaving yourself so my girl Rocky and my son’s girl Keira don’t run screaming into the night.”

  Devin’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Only person I can be is me, boy.”

  “Why don’t you try on a different personality for tonight?” Layne suggested.

  “Women love me,” Devin shot back.

  Layne grinned and muttered, “Right.”

  “You wait and see, I’ll have them eatin’ outta my hands.”

  “Just as long as you don’t try to do that literally.”

  Devin grunted. Blondie, standing next to him looking up at him and likely wondering why he wasn’t petting her, barked. Devin glared at the dog and then he disappeared.

  Layne chuckled and turned back to his computer.

  An hour later he’d run through every scrap of information in TJ Gaines’s personnel file twice because he could not believe what he’d found and he’d printed it out. He’d also made some calls based on info from the file, typed up quick notes and printed those out too. He was in Mimi’s and Mimi was handing him his Americano when his phone rang.

  The display said, “Raquel Calling”.

  Seeing Rocky’s name on his phone, he made a decision, smiled at Meems, turned toward the door, flipped the phone open, put it to his ear and greeted her with, “Hey sweetcheeks.”