Jan Burke - Nine

Alex came down the hallway. John was frowning, looking from the kitchen. Chase had hold of the dog by now, but over the sound of someone leaning on the doorbell, Rusty was still voicing disapproval. Alex was inclined to agree with him.

He looked out through the view port in the door. The man on the front porch had put on weight and lost some hair since Alex had last seen him, but he would have known him anywhere.

“Shithouse mouse. It’s Miles.”

He opened the door but did not step aside to let his brother enter, a fact that stymied Miles for a moment.

But only a moment. “Where the fuck is my son?”

Alex heard limping footsteps behind him and glanced to see John coming into the entryway.

“That will be enough of that, Miles,” John said in a tone of voice that worked as well now as it had when they were twenty years younger.

Miles ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, John, I didn’t realize you were here.”

“You knew damned well I was here. You just thought I might not have been close enough to the door to hear you talk like that to your brother.”

“Forgive me if I’ve forgotten the connection,” Miles snapped.

“Let’s say he’s a stranger, then.”

“John-” Alex said.

“Let’s say he’s a stranger,” John repeated. “You come to the house of a stranger who has been looking after your boy while you went gallivanting all over the country, and you greet him like that? Who taught you to act like that?”

Miles turned red and muttered, “Sorry,” without looking at Alex. Then he fired up again. “But Chase is my son, and I won’t have either of you encouraging him to run away from home!”

From behind them, Chase said, “I didn’t run away!”

“You stay out of this, you little dumb ass! You’ve caused me more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Don’t talk to him that way,” Alex said.

“You don’t get to tell me how to talk to my son.” Miles tried to peer over Alex’s and John’s shoulders, but they were both taller than him. Miles, always competitive, had been unable to triumph in this one area, Alex thought wryly-remembering a period in high school when Miles had tried wearing lifts in his shoes in a hopeless effort to remain taller than his younger brother.

“What are you smiling at?” Miles asked suspiciously.

Alex turned to Chase and said quietly, “Are you all packed up and ready to go home?”

Chase looked miserable, but he answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Jesus-‘Yes, sir,’” Miles mimicked. “He doesn’t talk that way to me!”

“I wonder why?” John asked.

“Go and get your things, then,” Alex said to Chase. “I’ll keep an eye on Rusty.”

Chase hugged the dog, then brought him over to Alex before hurrying back to the bedroom. Alex was just noticing that the dog had a collar that looked a lot like one of his leather belts when Miles said, “Damned if that is not the jankiest-looking dog I have ever seen in my life.”

Rusty growled at him.

“Look at it! Skinny and ugly to boot.”

Rusty barked-Miles stepped back nervously.

“Dog’s a good judge of character,” John said.

“You keep giving me grief, John. But is there some reason why Alex has not been able to address a single remark to me?”

Chase came out then and said, “Thank you, Uncle Alex and Uncle John. Good-bye, Rusty.”

The boy looked pale, Alex thought. “Come back anytime,” he said. “Rusty and I will both be happy to see you.”

“Thanks.”

He stepped past Miles, who cuffed him on the back of the head as he passed him. Chase cried out in pain, and in the next instant Alex pulled hard at the back of Miles’s collar.

“Hold the dog, John,” Alex said. By then he had also grabbed Miles’s wrist and pulled his arm up hard behind him.

Miles tried to speak but couldn’t. Chase turned around.

“Chase, go on to the car,” Alex said. “Everything will be fine. Your dad will be there in just a minute.”

Alex waited until the limousine driver, who was trying hard to hide his curiosity, let the boy into the backseat.

He then yanked back harder on the collar, so that Miles fought to keep his balance as he was pulled backward into the house. Alex shut the door, then shoved his brother face first hard into it. He pinned him there, and said into his ear, “I am addressing a remark to you now, Miles. You touch that boy in anger just once again-just once-and you’ll have to learn sign language, because I will personally kick your nuts in so hard they’ll lodge in your ears. You got that?”

“Let go of me!”

“Did you say to let go of Rusty?” John asked innocently.

“No!-No! I didn’t even hurt him, for Christ’s sake.”

“Did that sound like a promise to you, John?”

“Nope. A promise would go something like this: ‘You lay a hand on Chase, and I’ll beat your ass so hard, it will look like a new moon.’”

Alex laughed. “Oh, damn. I wish I thought you’d need my help to do it.”

“All right, all right!” Miles said. “I promise I won’t touch him. Let me go!”

Alex released him. Miles straightened his shoulders, then turned back to Alex and smiled coldly. “I’ll give your love to Clarissa, Alex.”

Alex smiled back. “You mean I get cuts in line?”

He easily blocked Miles’s punch, caught him off balance, and landed a blow that doubled Miles over. Alex used the opportunity to open the door and shove him outside.

“You want to get back at me for that,” he said, “be a man and come after me, not your kid. I’m holding you to your promise.”

He closed and locked the door behind him.

John let the dog go then and said, “I guess you’ve waited a long time for that one, but I’m sorry it came to this with you two.”

“Don’t deny me my pleasures. It’s been a lousy morning until now. And give Rusty whatever is left of that steak.”

“He had that last night.”

Alex shook his head. “I’ll bet you made his collar, too.”

“That belt never looked good on you.”

“Now you’re the fashion police. Okay, let’s go into the kitchen and see what else we can spoil him with.”

“All right.”

But neither of them moved.

“It’s mostly that he belittles him,” John said. “I don’t think Miles makes a habit of hitting him. Chase would tell me.”

“It doesn’t need to be a habit. I don’t care if I just saw the only time it ever happened.”

“I’m with you,” John said. “Even if he were only using words-Chase is having a hard time with it. It’s just since he’s been a teenager. Anybody gets the least little bit angry around him…Well, sorry you got dragged into this, and I know I’m the one who dragged you.”

“I can get into a fight without any help from you, old fart.”

“Yes, well, I never felt so much like an old fart in my life. When I saw him hit that boy, I wanted to grab on to him, too. Between this damned knee and you handing the dog off, I couldn’t get to him quick enough.”

“You made me laugh at him, and that bothered him a lot more than anything I did with my fists.”

John shrugged. They started to walk into the kitchen.

“New moon?” Alex said, and they both started laughing.

Malibu, California

Thursday, May 22, 9:00 A.M.

Spooky had looked all through the house. She couldn’t find Kit. Finally, in the kitchen, she noticed an envelope addressed to her, tucked under a clean cereal bowl set out on the table. There was also a spoon and a box of disgustingly healthy-looking cereal. Kit should know better than to try to get her to eat that stuff. The last time he had tried to sell her on the benefits of high fiber, she told him to use a plumber’s snake if his drain was plugged up, because hers wasn’t.