Devon Monk - Magic In the Blood

“Allie…”

“Legal, Pike. Let’s do this right. Let’s get this bastard for life.”

He looked down. Stared at the floor. Finally he nodded. Slow. Beaten. Old.

He tipped his head back up. “You’re right,” he said, his voice tired. “That’s the smart thing to do. Get the police on it, help them if they need it. I could find him if they want me to. I’ll never forget that devil’s stench. But I can’t go down to the station today. I promise I’ll meet you there tomorrow afternoon.”

A wave of relief, a knot of fear released in me. “Morning would be better, don’t you think?”

“I got crap to do with Anthony-for his mother. It will take most of the night tonight and part of tomorrow.”

“What kind of crap?” I was afraid he was evading this, evading me, trying to find a way to ditch on our deal.

He winced. “Handyman crap.” He tugged his sleeve back to reveal his wrist. The gauze bandage was wrapped up his forearm about six inches, and thick gauze pads lay across the inside of his wrist. It looked like a poorly executed suicide attempt.

“Pike, you didn’t try to…”

“Christ, Beckstrom. What are you thinking?” He tugged his sleeve back down. “I damn near took my hand off with a goddamn circular saw this morning. And I still have to fix the sink, take care of a broken window, and patch a hole in the goddamn roof. I’m going to get that done before I deal with the cops. And you can wipe that smile off your face.”

“I always knew you were a good guy, Pike.”

“Shove it, Beckstrom.”

“Noon tomorrow at the station?” I asked sweetly.

He nodded. “Might be as late as one, but around then.”

“You do know I’m going to talk to Stotts about Trager tonight, right?” I said.

“Figured you would.”

“He’ll want to put you under protective custody,” I said.

“He’ll know where to find me, won’t he?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything. That was almost harder, seeing him give in like that. It was another sign of how ready he was to retire, to be done with all this, to let the police take care of the city without him.

“Thanks for doing this the right way,” I added.

“You don’t think I’m going to do this without asking for something in return, do you?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Not that I should be surprised. Nothing without a price in this town. Not even friendship. “What do you want?”

“I want you to promise me you’ll stay here in the city. After I… retire. ’Cause this damn sure is going to be the last time I work with the police. And when the Hounds contact you, if they need you-even if they say they don’t-that you’ll go to them. Look after them.”

“You know,” I said, “we’re friends.” I stumbled a little on the last word, but it was true. Of all the Hounds I knew, Pike and I had hit off a strange sort of dysfunctional teacher-student, or maybe even father-daughter relationship. “But you are so not my boss. No one tells me what to do.”

“I’m telling you what to do. And I expect you to listen to me.” Then, a little softer. “Just this once.”

What would it matter if I said yes? I didn’t think Pike was going to be retired for long. He’d be back, after he got tired of the sun and sand. Back to boss me and all the rest of the Hounds around. Back to take a kid under his wing and try to set him straight.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll look after your little sewing circle for as long as it lasts. That’s all I’m promising.”

“That’s enough.”

He leaned away from the stud and opened the door. The heavy smells from a restaurant mixed with the perfume of the candle shop. I realized I hadn’t eaten lunch yet. But the smells were overwhelming and triggered my headache. Add to that a nice helping of brighter light out in the main hallway, and my hunger turned to nausea in three seconds flat.

Neat.

I walked past Pike into the light and stink of the rest of the world. It was still early afternoon. I had time to go home, chew down some more painkillers, maybe sleep off some of the get-a-clue-and-set-a-damn-Disbursement-next-time headache before I had to meet Stotts at the station at five.

And right now, a little sleep sounded fabulous.

“See you tomorrow,” I said to Pike as I headed toward the nearest set of stairs that would take me up into the retail space and on to daylight.

“Allie?”

“Yeah?” I looked over my shoulder at him.

His pale blue eyes burned in the shadows from the hallway. “It was worth it.”

And then he walked away, down the corridor quiet and quick.

I hoped he meant getting the Hound group together was worth it. I hoped he meant Hounding for twenty-five years was worth it. I hoped he meant deciding to retire was worth it.

Or maybe he meant putting Trager in jail once was worth it, and it would be worth doing it again. The right way.

Iemerged from the building just as the bus pulled to a stop across the street. I swore and jogged for it. I caught the bus, scanned the people there, and didn’t see anyone who looked like they were going to stab me. Just in case, I chose an empty seat near the driver and sat down.

Unfortunately, it was the wrong bus. That meant I got to spend an extra twenty minutes lurching from stop to stop, nursing my headache made worse by the stink of diesel that poured in the doors every time the beast belched its way back into traffic. And just in case that wasn’t fun enough, once I got off the bus, I had an eight-block trudge-uphill-to get to my apartment. The rain had let up, which was something, I guess, but the wind was still blowing out of the Gulf of Alaska, too cold and too strong.

Okay, yes. I was feeling a little sorry for myself.

And the headache made it impossible to pay close attention to the people around me. It wasn’t like I was wandering in a blind fog; it was more of a set-jaw determined slog up the hill, and I just didn’t have it in me to twitch at every little sound. If Trager’s men decided to jump me, I would beat them senseless with my shoe.

So when I paused to catch my breath outside a restaurant with big glass windows, it probably took me only a full thirty seconds to notice the man waving at me.

Apparently Davy had taken Pike’s words to heart. He was sitting at a table at the window, alone, half a huge burger demolished on the plate in front of him.

I frowned. There was no way it was a coincidence he chose this restaurant this close to my apartment on this day.

He was planning to stalk me. The little twerp.

I didn’t waste my energy glaring at him. I started up the block.

Davy jumped out of his seat. From my peripheral vision I watched him continue to wave his hands at me while he dodged tables, heading to the door and getting there faster than me since he was inside and didn’t have to deal with the incline. I hoped someone stuck out their leg and tripped him.

No luck.

Just as I passed the restaurant door, it flew open. Out strode Davy. The wind shifted and I got a hint of his scent. Beneath the cloud of burgers and onions from the restaurant, Davy smelled like warm cedar and lemons. The taint of booze lingered on his sweat too, adding a sour note.

“Here,” he said, closing the distance between us in a few loping strides. Kid was all leg. He stepped in front of me and shoved something at my face.

I knew what it was before I even looked down. French fries stacked in a cardboard carton, two packs of ketchup, and a napkin tucked down one side.

“Ordered an extra for Tom-” He swallowed the rest of what he was going to say and tried to hack it back up before I noticed. “-for a friend who didn’t show up. I think you and I started off on a bad foot today. No hard feelings, okay?”