“Got it,” he said, scribbling as she spoke.
“You need to be discreet. You don’t want to get caught asking around and definitely don’t want to bring up my name.”
“No, ‘cause half the city still thinks you killed him.”
She shrugged and sat back. “Well, it’s probably more than half. But, yeah, I’m not exactly top of anyone’s Christmas card list… Avoid talking about his sister, if you can. Though, it would be helpful to know if anyone mentions Ophelia. Note down anything that people say about her, or any causes she’s donated to. Don’t engage her if you can avoid it… And if any scary looking guys approach you or start asking questions, back off.”
Much to her surprise, Clyde was grinning when he next looked up. Harlow had feared that she was asking too much of him; that he might be too afraid to use his access to city systems to do her a favor. Sure, he wasn’t exactly high in the chain of command. But he could move about government buildings and offices and come up with an excuse as to why he should be there.
“This is exciting,” he said. “It’s like a mission in a thriller movie.”
Keeping her lips still and her eyes open, she nodded. There once was a time when she considered all of this exciting too. Though, that wasn’t fair, it was still exciting for her; the hue of that excitement had just changed a little. There was a thrill, an adrenaline high, when pushing boundaries. But having lost her love and her liberty at different points, the stakes were higher for her. That lessened her desire to grin about them.
“Yeah,” she managed to make herself say.
“You want proof to take down the real killer? We have to gather clues and piece together evidence. Do you want me to interview Jarvis Hagan’s doorman?”
“No!” she said so quickly that he jumped. Composing herself, she sat up and rested both hands on his leg. “I don’t want you doing anything to endanger yourself. A job like that needs backup. Ryske can take care of it. He’ll take care of anything dangerous. He knows people.”
Harlow didn’t want anyone near Hagan’s building. Her requests were less about his murder and more about the murderess, but there was no time to explain that.
Nodding, Clyde seemed to be following. “So, you want a list of names, people he donated to, maybe how much. People and departments and causes.”
“If you can,” she said, thinking she could crossmatch with anyone who used Pothos at Windsor’s. “And if you know anything interesting about those people, let me know.”
Clyde knew about Pothos, though he’d never been to the club or seen it in action. But drugs and sex weren’t the only ways to take people down. At least, illegal drugs and illegal sex weren’t. There were other ways. Some departments were rife with gossip and rumor. If there was anything blackmail-worthy floating around, she wanted to know about it.
Anything could be useful, any detail, so she wanted as much as possible.
“Okay, got all that, what’s next?”
“Pablo Soto,” she said. Some of Clyde’s intrigue became a frown. “This one’s more personal than business. I heard he might be getting out soon?”
“Yeah,” Clyde said. “I’ve heard that too. I haven’t checked if there’s a release date though.”
“Could you?” she asked. Felipe was on family services radar, Tiffy might be too. All of that information would be accessible to Clyde as part of his day job. “Can you get me his prison file?” She wrinkled her nose. “I know it’s confidential and you’re not supposed to…”
“You care about the family, huh?” She nodded. “You know, we could look into legal guardianship. Martina Soto said she wouldn’t let her husband back into the family home. But if you think she’s changing her mind, we could have custody of Felipe transferred to you.”
That would be a great idea, except she wasn’t staying at Floyd’s, and they barely had enough space for the people who lived there already. If the kid was in danger, she’d take him in, definitely. But Martina might not react well to the implication that she wasn’t a good mother. Harlow didn’t want to start fights in the neighborhood before anything had even happened.
Clyde suddenly frowned and looked away.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing, I… I just realized we’d have to get a judge to approve it… And with your history…”
“My stay in jail for murder you mean?” she asked and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, I know plenty of other people who would make better candidates if it comes to it.”
She’d love to put Ryske forward, but Dover would probably be a better bet given that Floyd’s actually belonged to him. He was a respected business owner in the community.
“I just need to know what to expect if he does come back. What’s his style? What are his triggers? You know, anything that his notes might tell me. If he’s going to be a danger to the family, I need to know how to protect them.”
“If Martina thought he was a threat, she wouldn’t take him back, right?”
In an ideal world, sure. But Clyde should know better. “How often does it work out like that?”
Harlow had seen information on Pablo Soto when she’d been on Felipe’s case back when she worked for family services herself. A long time ago. Pablo wasn’t the most patient man. His violence against Martina had been documented. But he had other violent crimes under his belt too. Harlow wanted to read the latest evaluations of him.
Felipe was older than he had been when his father went to prison. It wasn’t unusual for fathers and sons to butt heads as children grew up. As tough as Felipe liked to think he was—as the neighborhood forced him to project himself as—she knew him as a delicate and sensitive boy with a kind nature. The last thing she wanted was for him to have that beaten out of him.
Ryske would take it hard if Pablo raised his hands to Felipe. He had little patience for men who beat on their families because it was what his father had done. Protecting Felipe was paramount, but she was protecting Ryske too. Pablo Soto was a strong and dangerous man. While she didn’t doubt her love’s abilities, she didn’t want him in a confrontation with the felon.
“I’ll get everything I can,” Clyde said.
“Thank you,” she said and put her arms around him to give him a tight hug.
Clyde was always a rock for her; he’d never let her down. Every time she was there, she thought the same thing, and thought about how she had to do something to show that she didn’t take him for granted. But life always got in the way and she never got the chance to spend quality time with him.
At least he wasn’t singled out in that regard. Harlow didn’t get to spend quality time with her crew and she lived with them. Life had been constant since Ryske crashed into her life. As tiring as it could be, she wouldn’t take that moment back.
When she tried to pull away, Clyde took her hand. “Harlow,” he said. “I know you live this crazy life and I know you can look after yourself… Even if you couldn’t, you’re with Ryske, and he’d look out for you, but… Are you okay?”
Just like always, he wanted to give her the chance to open up. “I’m going to be,” she said, touching his face. “This is all going to be over soon. I promise that once it is, I’ll come back and we’ll hang out. I’ll make the time to catch up.”
Though he was hesitant, he let her go. “Okay,” he said. “If you’re sure. But I’m always here, okay?” She nodded. Making himself smile, he tapped his pen on the pad. “What do you want me to do with this stuff? Bring it to you? Send it somewhere?”
“Just keep hold of it,” she said. “I’ll come back for it. Keep it handy… But, you know, out of sight.”
He pointed the pen at her. “I gotcha.”
Leaving the couch, she was already thinking about the next place that she wanted to be. Clyde followed her to the door. She paused before opening it. “Remember, you never saw me.”
He nodded and put a hand to the back of her head, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “I know,” he said. “Look after yourse
lf.”
She could tell it wasn’t always easy for him to send her out into the world without knowing where she was going or what dangers she might face. But he trusted her and that was why he let her go.
14
Noon and Penzance were waiting exactly where she’d left them. Harlow got back into the car and Noon started driving. “Where to now?” Noon asked her.
“The neighborhood,” she said. “I need to see the doctor.”
“You sick?” Penzance asked. “Because we have doctors on this side of town.”
She turned to look over the shoulder of her seat at him. “Are you scared, Vane?” Though she said the words in jest, she was surprised to see the deep-set scowl on his face. “If you want us to drop you off at Brash’s, we can do that. I’m sorry, I… I didn’t think about how it would be difficult for you to go back.”
If what Ryske had said was true, it had been a lot of years since Penzance had been there. The details of why Penzance had left were fuzzy. If there had been any sort of trauma, or confrontation, he could have enemies there, or have some kind of regression that would lead him to flip out.
They didn’t have time to hedge on this. If he didn’t want to come, they had to turn around and take him to Ophelia and Brash’s apartment building. They were on a clock and wouldn’t have time to turn back later. She didn’t think that offering to drop him at Floyd’s would be welcome. It was the safest place she knew, and that was even after being witness to a shooting and an inferno there. Going there would probably bring back the most potent of his memories.
“I don’t need to be dropped off,” he said, but slid down in his chair. “Just don’t expect me to jump out and save your ass if you get into trouble.”
Noon snorted. “In the neighborhood? Everyone knows Nightingale. No one would lay their hands on her. If there was some stranger who thought about it, he’d have half whatever block we were on beating him to a pulp within minutes.”
Strange that such a graphic claim could be so touching, but Harlow was warmed by it. “I don’t need help,” she said. “You can stay there and keep your head down. No one needs to know that you were ever there.”
“He knows,” Penzance said, nodding to Noon.
“Yes, and Ryske will too,” she said. “We don’t hide things from our crew. But no one’s interested in hurting you.”
When he started to mutter to himself, she got more curious. Just like at Clyde’s, there wasn’t time to probe deeper.
Noon drove fast through the streets, getting them to their side of town in no time. When Harlow realized they weren’t heading to Bale’s apartment, she got a chill.
“You okay?” Noon asked, noticing her tension. “He’s at work… If you need me to go in…”
“No,” she said, trying to loosen her shoulders while sitting up straighter at the same time. “I’m fine. I… I’m over all that.”
“Over all what?” Penzance asked, his head appearing between the seats again.
The bright lights of the hospital sign lit the inside of the car, mesmerizing her. Slipping into a trance, she tried to control the melee of responses her psyche was having to being back there.
“This is where he died,” she murmured.
“Where who died?” Penzance asked.
Noon stopped across the street from the entrance. There wasn’t supposed to be parking there, but it was late and quiet. If the cops gave him any trouble, there was a diner with parking down the block.
Harlow had these thoughts, but was still hypnotized by the lights. Noon took her hand. “You were here after the fire, you came to visit Felipe.”
“I know,” she said, trying to shake off her anxiety. “I know that, and that’s how I know I’ll be fine when I get in there.” Harlow tore her attention away from the sign and made herself smile before facing him. “I just… it always comes back to me for a second, you know?”
Noon nodded. “I can go in for you, if you need me to.”
“No,” she said and opened her door. “Wait here or at the diner, I’ll be as quick as I can.”
Quick as I can was a relative phrase when talking about locating a doctor in an emergency room in the small hours of a Saturday morning. There weren’t as many people as there could be. But there were plenty of drunks and party related injuries.
It was almost funny to think that these people, and these kinds of injuries, were what prepared Bale to take care of her and her crew. She asked at the desk and got little response. She checked around the waiting area and loitered a minute, swaying side to side trying to see through glass panels of doors on the other side of the department. But she had no luck.
Under the guise of looking for the restroom, she took a look at the list of patients on the whiteboard and tried to find where his name was written in the freshest ink. Taking a couple of options, Harlow walked down the corridor like she was supposed to be there and tried to figure out how the rooms were actually labeled.
She was still trying to find the room when a door opened, making her freeze. This was a pretty isolated part of the department, and she didn’t know the penalty for wandering. Harlow was kicking herself for not taking note of some patient names so she could ascribe herself to one, when Bale came out talking to a nurse over a chart.
He glanced up, and kept talking, but the moment he registered who she was, he stopped. “Uh… thanks, I’ll catch up,” he said to the nurse, who looked between them, but walked away. Bale rushed over, crouching to her level, he scrutinized her eyes. “Are you okay? Are you injured? What day is it?”
“I think it’s Saturday now,” she said, swatting his hands away when he tried to take her pulse and feel her temperature.
“We’ll get you setup in a room. No one has to know you’re here.”
He took her hand, but they only got a few steps before she dug her heels in, forcing him to stop. “I’m not sick,” she said. “But I am on a clock. I need your help and I need it fast.”
His expression became sterner and he folded his arms. “Is my brother an idiot?”
Confused, her eyes slipped to the side. “Uh, is that another one of those mental status questions? I thought they were supposed to have static answers, your brother is a moving target.”
“Don’t I know it,” he muttered and slipped an arm around her to guide her out of the hallway and into an exam room. “What do you need?”
“A sedative.”
He pulled his prescription pad from his pocket. “What kind of sedative?”
Putting a hand over his, she pushed the pad down and stepped closer. “The unofficial kind.”
Tilting his head, she could see skepticism creeping over him. “Harlow.”
“I know. I know you don’t like breaking the law. Blatantly breaking it. You like the grey area and this is more monochromatic, but—”
He put a hand to her shoulder. “Har, if you need it, you’ll get it. But when you ask me for something like this, I get worried. Ryske hasn’t been in his right mind this last month. If he’s asked you to—”
“He doesn’t know,” she said, taking his hand and stepping closer. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d have this opportunity to see you.”
Harlow had thought about how useful it would be to have a few minutes in various places and one of the people she had wanted to visit was Bale.
Lying in the dark in her bedroom in Brash’s apartment, she’d craved the doctor’s help. She’d craved all her friends. But there was one thing Bale was especially good at.
Sliding her arms around him, she held her body to his, enjoying the comforting heat of him.
“You’re tired,” he said, embracing her. “How much longer can you keep up this pace?”
His worry was reassuring because she knew he felt it for all their crew. But Harlow felt their bond was different. Bale was the first member of Ryske’s circle whom she’d trusted.
“I promise when this is done, I’ll go on vacation,” she sa
id. “You can take me somewhere and we’ll drink from coconuts, what do you say?”
There was a laugh in his voice. “You wouldn’t rather go with the idiot?”
“He’s more likely to get me in trouble,” she said. “You’d be quite happy to drink their liquor and lie in the sun. The idiot would want to knock over the liquor store and take pictures of me on a nudist beach or something.”
“Get you in trouble? Yeah, that sounds like him,” he said.
Though she was aware of the time and knew she should be moving, Harlow couldn’t bring herself to leave his arms.
“I need you to keep him together,” she whispered. “I know he’s a pain in the ass. But I need him in one piece, Bale… please.”
“Hey,” he said, scooping her hair off her shoulder to ease her head back to look down into her. “He’s going to be okay. You always come back to him.”
That triggered a memory of her parents’ laundry room. Curling her fingers, she grazed the scar on her palm.
“You’re the only one capable of loving him as much as I do,” she confessed, being able to say to him what she wouldn’t dare say to anyone else.
Bale flashed his pearly whites. “Babe, no one is capable of loving him as much as you do.” He touched her jaw. “He’s a lucky sonofabitch.”
“Oh, I know that,” she said and they shared a smile.
They were still smiling and holding each other when the door opened and a nurse started to enter. When she spotted them, she paused and backed out, letting the door close again.
Harlow laughed, but Bale groaned. “And there goes months of groundwork on that one,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“And which explanation should I give? That, yes, you’re the patient she remembers, but it’s fine because you’re basically my sister-in-law?”
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