Hiding the Moon

by Amy Lane

  And then he’d met Ernie and realized Owens had been chopped up into pieces and forced through the cracks.

  What had come out on the other side had nearly ground up Rivers and Cramer as a side dish.

  “He’s the one. Lacey tried to give me a song and dance about Owens being on a prolonged mission, but have you seen the details of the case?”

  Burton nodded. “Pretty fucking grim.”

  Hamblin squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m telling you, Oscar, if I could go back to before I met this guy and ignore him, I would. I should have bolted when I saw most of his training data depended on a psychic.” He shuddered. “He sent five guys to take that kid out, and three of them disappeared. I think the damned psychic killed them—and seriously, more power to him. He never should have been in our sights.”

  Burton swallowed. Those men had claimed to be working for Corduroy. Apparently Lacey had lost the only three of Hamblin’s guys he trusted well enough to let them in on the secret. Maybe that really was when he’d started to become unhinged.

  “A psychic,” he laughed weakly. “I wouldn’t have given him the time of day.”

  Hamblin shook his head in admiration. “No, you would not have—for which I’m profoundly grateful. I promise you, if you follow me in company, I won’t leave you to waste in the com room listening to lawyers in love.”

  Ugh. Of all the men Burton had worked with these last three months, why did this one have to be so likable?

  And so likely to need killing by the end of the op?

  “That is incentive,” Burton told him soberly. “What are we going to do with these guys anyway? I mean, they’re not heading this way. The one guy’s mother is apparently a big deal in Washington—do you really want that kind of exposure?”

  Hamblin looked at him in horror. “She’s what?”

  Oh. This was interesting. This had been among some of the few truths Burton had let slip through the lies. “Cramer’s mother—Lacey’s been putting pressure on her by pulling clients. She’s a big deal in Washington—reps defense subcontractors, that sort of thing. I thought you knew.”

  What happened to Hamblin’s neatly goateed face then was a study in rage. All expression slid from his eyes, his jaw, his mouth, to be replaced by the steely concentration of a man who had better things to do than punch holes in walls—but punching the holes would have been fun.

  “I did not know,” he said icily. “Excuse me. I need to go rip some assholes.”

  “Sir, yes sir.”

  Burton stood back and let the smaller man by, waiting until the ring of his hard-soled wingtips disappeared around the corner of the hallway. He didn’t return to his com immediately but instead went to the bathroom.

  Where he texted Jason all about it.

  Then he went back to his com, for all the world like he wasn’t getting ready to duck the shit about to come off the fan.

  Two days later the shark and the fish discovered the bugs and dropped off the map—and right into Burton’s worst nightmares.

  Broken Fish, Shattered Bowl

  ALBA SLAMMED the landline down with undue force, the ring echoing in the tiny cashier’s chamber she occupied. The string of Spanish she spewed was not the sort of stuff Ernie remembered from school.

  “Anything wrong?” he asked hesitantly.

  She eyed him with distaste. “What are you doing up so early?”

  He bit his lip, wondering if he should explain. “Things are itchy,” he said at last. “The guys Burton was watching have sort of disappeared. It’s hard to explain—we got attached.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “That is very odd,” she proclaimed before scowling again. “You lost two assholes, and we just had two assholes call us up out of nowhere and want to talk to Ace. I think we should trade assholes.”

  Ernie burst out laughing, and Alba chuckled reluctantly before calling to Ace. Ace had just emerged from under a minivan that—according to him—had an interior that looked like the McDonald’s apocalypse and an engine that looked like angels wept there. It belonged to one of the women in the little housing development out of sight to the south, and Ace had apparently been helping the owner of the van—a beleaguered single mother—milk the last few hundred miles out of it before she could afford a new one.

  “What’s up?” he asked, swaggering over in that way he had and wiping the remaining oil from his fingers. “You look like you ate a pickle.”

  “Pickles are gross,” she announced. “No—this is worse. You remember that lawyer asshole that was here, and his cop buddy?”

  “Ex-cop,” Ace told her, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

  Alba darted a furtive look at Ernie, and he was going to take the hint and leave, even though his senses were screaming he needed to be there.

  “Ex-cop called up and told us they needed to talk to you. Said it was important. I told him I’d let you know when you got back.”

  Ace’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Got back from where?”

  “From wherever you were when he called and I said you weren’t here!” she explained on a huff. “Anyway—you need to talk to him. He said it had to do with shit coming back to bite you in the ass.”

  “Or on,” Ace said laconically. “Either one sounds uncomfortable. Did he leave his number?”

  “I wrote it down.” She scowled. “I didn’t like him. He was way too clever.”

  “Well, Mr. Rivers has had quite a life,” Ace murmured. “I’ll talk to him, don’t you worry—Ernie, you look like you swallowed a bug. What the hell is wrong with you, boy?”

  It took ten minutes for Ernie to calm down enough for him to even get the story out. When he was done, Ace did little more than blink.

  “So these guys discovered the bugs—all the bugs—on Sunday, after Rivers got his melon conked?”

  Ernie nodded. That had been two days ago. He pulled out his phone and showed Ace Burton’s text string—clearly panicked, because oh my God, if Burton didn’t know where the guys were, he couldn’t protect them the way he could if they came down here.

  “The day after,” he said, trying to get the timeline sorted. “And he must have spent about three days in the hospital, and another day down here recuperating, and—”

  “And they decided we might know something about the guys they’re dealing with.” Ace rolled his eyes to heaven. “Do we?”

  Ernie shrugged. “I didn’t think so until they called you and you guys knew each other. But Burton’s been listening to them since November. They’ve been… I don’t know. Growing on us. Like we’ve got a responsibility to them. It’s weird.”

  Ace bit his lip in thought. “It is. Next time you decide to get a responsibility, get a puppy. I know somewhere you can get something sort of adorable and bigger’n Duke. It’s like a pit bull/goldendoodle mix—it’s about the goddamned ugliest cute thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “You want me to get a Golden Dude Bull?” Ernie asked, not sure he’d heard that right.

  “As opposed to adopting a lawyer and PI who might not like knowing your boyfriend listened in on them living their lives for the last three months, I’d think that might be a wise choice! Now shut up and go back to bed. I’ve got to go talk to Sonny and let him think it’s his idea I talk to these guys.”

  Ernie grunted, feeling the wrongness of being up before six in his bones. “You wake me up if anything happens,” he said anxiously. “I’m gonna go tell Burton about this.”

  “Only if you think it won’t freak him out!” Ace called anxiously.

  Ernie didn’t bother to tell him that Burton needed something that wouldn’t make him run for Military-Flunkies-R-Us, because right now he was desperate to know how their guys were really doing.

  They just called up? Burton asked him.

  Yeah. Apparently they knew Ace from something. He wouldn’t say what.

  Mind. Blown.

  Ernie chuckled. Yeah—we may think it’s just a little gas station in the middle of nowhere, but apparently it’s the vortex of he
ll.

  And he’s here? Down south?

  I guess. He wanted to meet with Ace.

  Shit.

  What?

  You remember those guys you had to assess for Lacey?

  No. Ernie remembered telling Burton about them, but he couldn’t remember specifics. Not really. Why?

  Galway was one of them—he almost killed Sonny and Ace when they were deployed. Ace got him first. Owens was another. Rivers is still recovering physically and mentally from taking him out. If Rivers and Cramer looked far enough into Owens….

  Oh! Ernie got it now. They found Ace and Sonny. And if they already knew them from something else….

  There was a pause. Ernie wondered if Burton was finding it as hard to breathe as he was himself. They’re going to be looking for the people you’re trying to bring down.

  Tell me how that meeting goes, kid. Anything you can get from Ace.

  Should I tell him anything else?

  Yeah—tell him he really needs to go.

  Ernie felt it then. A rumbling storm-cloud feeling, the charge of lightning before it struck.

  But it’s dangerous. Oh God. It’s really dangerous. Burton—if they go, they’ll both be in danger.

  Your gift tell you that?

  Yes.

  What’s it say about them not going?

  A wave of blackness rolled over him, so vile it crushed him to his knees.

  “Worse,” he whispered aloud before texting Worse.

  Hang in there, Ernie. Have some faith in our guys. You were told to look out for Cramer and Rivers for a reason. We’ve got to believe you and me can help all our boys get out okay.

  Ernie took a deep sobbing breath and tried to convince himself that okay was a thing. I’m just a flaky dance club kid, he texted, suddenly so naked he had to tell Burton the truth. Being with you was the best, most awesome, pure and honest thing I’ve ever done.

  Augh! I’m texting from the frickin’ BATHROOM, Ernie! I can’t tell you here why there’s more to you than that—just believe me that there is, okay?

  And oddly enough, that calmed Ernie down. Okay, Burton. I’ll believe you.

  Good. I gotta go. Keep me briefed—I might not be able to text you back, but you need to keep me in the loop.

  Okay. I love you.

  His heart stopped. He was just so undone. He’d been dispassionate about his rescue because he hadn’t cared, dammit. His own life had been such a haze of sleep and drugs and dance and just trying to survive in the jumbled roar of the city. But now he’d had peace and he’d stared at the stars and he’d felt Burton’s hunger for him as he drove through the dark of night just to hold Ernie in his arms, and he cared. And it was amazing and terrifying, and he didn’t just care about Burton, he cared about Ace and about Sonny and even about the two guys he’d never met before but somehow he was part of their destiny too.

  He cared and he was frightened and he needed Burton to know, that was all.

  You and me got business, kid. I’ll see you soon.

  Well, it wasn’t “I love you” back—but it wasn’t goodbye either.

  Ernie was going to have to be happy with that.

  He got up at his regular time and sat with Ace and Sonny over a very tense dinner.

  “So,” he said casually, “you guys going to Walmart tomorrow?”

  Ace swung his head around quickly. “How in the hell did you know it was Walmart?”

  Ernie blinked and considered. “I have no idea. Sometimes that shit just pops out of my mouth.”

  Sonny groaned. “Well, now we gotta go!” he muttered. “You got a goddamned witch in the house, what you gonna do, tell him ‘No, we’re not gonna do what you told us we’d do in the future’? I’ve seen that movie, and everybody dies anyway. In fuckin’ Barstow. Jesus God, Ace, why we gotta die in fuckin’ Barstow?” Sonny cast Ace a look of pure anguish. “You know I hate that fuckin’ town.”

  “Nobody’s gonna die, Sonny,” Ace soothed. “And there’s Barstow and Barstow, and we’re not going to the second one.”

  “What’s the fuckin’ difference?” Sonny sulked.

  “A better class of Walmart.” Ace nodded decisively, like that made all the sense. Then he gave Ernie an assessing look. “But I do think we’re both going to go and not just me.” He pursed his lips. “So, Ernie—do we tell them? Tell them about you? Tell them about Burton? How much do they need to know?”

  Ernie thought about it. “I think… I think you need to see what they want first and what they’re going to do about the information. I….” He looked at Sonny sympathetically. “Look, Sonny? I think they’re good guys.”

  “They’re fuckin’ nosy guys is what they are,” Sonny muttered. “I don’t know what being good guys has to do with anything—”

  “They’re good guys,” Ernie reiterated, not wanting to fight, especially with Sonny, but needing him to know this. “Sonny, I know you don’t get it, but these guys—I’ve been dreaming about them for months. And… and there’s danger tomorrow, for you and for Ace, and there’s danger for them too—but it’s gonna be worse if you don’t go.”

  “You knew this was coming?” Sonny snapped. “You knew this was coming and you didn’t warn us?”

  “No, I didn’t know this was coming!” Ernie thought hard, because it was a fair question. “I knew something was going to happen with them, but I didn’t know how they tied into us. But I think you gotta go. I just do.”

  Ace grunted. “I’ll tell Rivers tomorrow. No worries. And don’t get mad at Ernie about this, Sonny. This is just what happens when you leave unfinished business, that’s all. We tried to shoo them away last time, but I don’t think they were fooled for a minute.”

  “That lawyer guy was,” Sonny said, voice laced with disgust. “The cop wasn’t. He fucking saw everything.”

  “The lawyer guy was not,” Ace argued. “He was just an asshole about wanting to be in our business. The cop was more of a people person.”

  Ernie had to smile. “What made him a people person?”

  And Ace’s grunt was pure frustration. “He let his boyfriend talk to me while he went around and talked to all my people. I think he figured out quite a lot doing that.”

  “You mean he saw past your ‘aw, shucks, just a humble mechanic’ bullshit?” Ernie asked acerbically. “That must have been a shock.”

  Ace cast him a sharp look. “Ain’t bullshit.”

  “It so is.”

  “I don’t know what you think I am, Ernie, but Sonny’s actually the best mechanic in the shop. About all I’m good for is racing cars and,” he added with a meaningful look at Sonny, “I don’t do that no more.”

  Ernie glanced at Sonny, who was gazing at Ace with worship in his eyes, as though he bought every goddamned word.

  “I know, Ace. Only when we’re both in the car, like you promised.”

  “You buy that?” Ernie asked, to make sure. “That he’s just a little ol’ street racer?”

  “And mine,” Sonny said simply. “These are real good fried potatoes, Ernie. I like how you got ’em all crisp in the oil. Mine get mushy, even with onions, but yours are super good.”

  Ernie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks, Sonny. I’ll make you potatoes as often as you like. Ace, you’re bigger than this tiny picture you’re painting, and you need to—”

  “Why?” Ace asked, serving himself some more potatoes and sausage, and then adding some steamed broccoli to his plate like a good boy. “Why do I need to be bigger than anything? This here is the only dream me and Sonny ever had. And it’s good. And we love it. Why does it need to be more?”

  “It doesn’t,” Ernie told him, feeling grumpy. “But you at least need to acknowledge that you mean something here. This dream of yours, it’s powerful. It’s formed sort of a… I don’t know. Nexus. Where things cross.”

  Ace frowned. “Like Rivers and Cramer coming to ask us questions and then have us show up in their investigation later?”

  Oh thank God. “Yes.
That. Like those guys with the guns and drugs showing up so you could fix their car. Anybody else would have died, but you and Jai aren’t gonna be fucked with.”

  “Like Burton showing up with you,” Sonny said guilelessly. “That’s weird. I mean, you gotta admit that’s weird. You’re saying it happened ’cause Ace, he’s a… a center. A crossroads. A guy who makes things happen.”

  Ernie smiled from pure relief. “Yes. And it’s important he knows that because it means… well, it means he can get away with shit that some people can’t. And it means that some shit is just going to land at his feet that would pass most people by.”

  “And why’s that important to know?” Ace asked, shrugging. “Y’all, it’s just a garage—”

  “And it’s just a meeting at Walmart,” Ernie muttered.

  “Yup. Me and Sonny, we’ll be back before Alba gets off work. You’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you, Ernie? Tomorrow’s Jai’s day off.”

  Ernie huffed out a breath, feeling exhausted by sheer nerves already. “Yeah, fine. I have the feeling I’m going to be going to bed early this morning anyway.”

  “Good,” Ace said pragmatically. “We worry when you’re out too late.”

  Ernie fought the urge to bang his head against the table. “Well, I’ll worry about you guys tomorrow. Just, you know, be careful.”

  “Always,” Ace lied, taking another bite of potatoes.

  Still, Ernie was reassured. He was reassured while pacing back and forth in front of Alba’s cashier stand as she did the midmonth tallies and answered phones and called vendors. He was reassured while greeting the few customers who drove in and telling them the mechanics would be in later that day. He was reassured running across the street and buying him and Alba a late lunch.