Golden Trail

by Ashley, Kristen

  Layne looked to the ceiling and implored on a mutter, “Kill me.”

  “Hi honey!” Vera called.

  Layne looked down at his mother. “What are you doin’ here?”

  “I’m so glad I caught you in the office,” she stated, walking up the stairs, carrying a white cup with brown cardboard wrapped around it, she stopped, looked at her cup and then looked up at him. “Do you want a coffee? I just stopped in to get one and then decided to try your office and –”

  “Ma, what are you doin’ here?”

  She started walking again, muttering, “Yeesh. Someone’s in a bad mood even after having a meeting with a pretty girl.”

  Jesus. That shit was going to hit Rocky next.

  “She’s an ex-porn movie bit player who just fleeced Jarrod Astley for two hundred K. She’s pretty but she’s not my type,” Layne informed her, his mother stopped two stairs down from him and her mouth was hanging open.

  Then she whispered, “Porn?”

  “Ex-porn. She’s straight now. So, now that we got that sorted, I’ll repeat, what the fuck are you doin’ here?”

  “You say the f-word too much, Tanner Layne,” Vera snapped.

  “Ma,” Layne growled.

  She looked at the door then to him. “Can we go in your office?”

  “Will that make you tell me what you’re doin’ here?” Layne countered.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  Layne sighed. Then he walked into his office and his mother followed. He went straight to the reception desk and sat on it. She went straight to the couch and settled in like they were going to shoot the shit for the next hour.

  “Ma,” Layne prompted.

  “I’ve had the best idea,” Vera announced.

  Layne suspected he wouldn’t think it was the best.

  “You gonna share?” he asked when she said no more.

  “I’m going to sell my condo in Florida, come home and be your receptionist!” she declared with a little bounce on the couch. “Isn’t that great? You won’t have to pay me much and I’ll get to –”

  Layne interrupted her. “That’s not gonna happen.”

  Her face grew confused. “What? Why?”

  “How many reasons do you want?” Layne asked.

  “All of them,” she shot back.

  “Okay, first, the shit I do, see, photograph and investigate, you do not wanna know, you do not wanna see. If you can’t handle the f-word, you can’t handle my job. Second, I’m done with your shit in regards to Rocky. I told you when you came home that you didn’t learn to hide your attitude, which you haven’t, I’d show you the door. I’ve been patient and I’m letting you know, now, straight out, I’m not gonna be patient anymore. You pull one more stunt with Rocky, I’m done, you’re out.”

  “Tanner,” she whispered.

  “I’m bein’ straight with you, no joke, do not push me on that, you won’t like the consequences and if you do it when I’m not around, but Jas and Tripp are, I’m tellin’ you straight about that too, you won’t like the consequences of that either.”

  “They’re my grandsons!” she protested. “She’s known them all of a month.”

  “Yeah, and they’re my sons. I fell in love with her in three weeks, twice. You do the math.”

  She snapped her mouth shut, looked away and sucked back some coffee.

  Then she told the wall, “She’s going to hurt you again.”

  “Yes, she is,” Layne agreed and Vera’s eyes shot to him.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “She’s got somethin’ in her, Ma. Somethin’ not right and I gotta help her get it out but I don’t know what the fuck it is. I don’t even think Roc knows what it is. It made her leave me eighteen years ago and I know in my bones it’s gonna happen again, unless I sort that shit out, and all three of us are gonna lose her. Now, you can play your games and piss me off, piss off my boys, and cause a rift in this family because you’re bein’ stubborn or you can fuckin’ help me, ‘cause, Ma, she makes me happy, I love her, I don’t want to lose her again and I need all the help I can get.”

  He watched his mother’s eyes change and she looked the way she looked when he was eleven and took that huge header on his bike, walked home with blood running from his knees, his forearms and his temple and she cleaned it up with a hot, soapy towel then wiped it with alcohol, blowing in between each stroke.

  And the way she looked at him, just months ago, when he was in the hospital after getting shot.

  “She’s got something in her?” Vera asked quietly.

  “She’s shit scared of the dark unless I’m there,” Layne shared.

  “Is this new?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but it’s new to me. She wasn’t that way before but she said it was because I was there. And she isn’t that way now when I’m there. But if I’m not there, and it’s night, the curtains are open and she cannot handle them closed and when I say that, she seriously cannot handle them closed.”

  “Did you ask what scares her?”

  “Yeah, but she didn’t answer. She just started shakin’ and then I felt something comin’ from her and I won’t go into details, Ma, but I been in some serious situations and been in the presence of some serious people, and I’ve never, not in my life, felt anything as nasty as that.”

  She put her hand to her mouth and took a breath before dropping it and asking, “Why do you think she didn’t answer?”

  “I don’t know, she just wouldn’t go there.”

  “What do Dave and Merry say?” Vera asked.

  “They don’t, they won’t talk about it.”

  “What?”

  “They won’t talk about it, Ma. At all. They say if they do, she’ll cut them out like she cut me out.”

  “My God,” Vera whispered. “What on earth –?”

  Layne cut her off. “I don’t know. I know two things. She’s scared of the dark, really scared and she won’t go there to understand why. And I suspect one thing, whatever this is ties up with why she left me.”

  “Did she explain that?” Vera asked softly.

  “Yes and no,” Layne answered honestly.

  Vera’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  “She explained it but she says even she doesn’t know why she did it. She just knows it hurt, she wanted that connection back, she fought against it and missed me for eighteen years. Me gettin’ shot broke through.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Vera observed.

  “No shit?” Layne asked.

  Vera’s back got straight. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

  Oh Christ.

  Layne shook his head and stated firmly, “Fuck no.”

  “What?” Vera snapped. “Why not?”

  “Ma, seriously?” And his mother had the grace to look as guilty as she was.

  “Okay,” she said. “So I won’t meet her after school and invite her to manicures and confessions of the soul. I’ll um… win her back and then… um…”

  “How about you work Dave, I’ll work Merry and one or the other of us maybe will figure out what the fuck is goin’ on and find a way to get passed it,” Layne suggested.

  “Dave isn’t my best friend,” his mother reminded him.

  “Yeah, you did that too. But you go over there, wavin’ the white flag while carryin’ one of your pistachio bunt cakes with that kickass icing that he always liked so much and maybe he won’t shoot you.”

  Vera grinned then her grin wavered and her eyes got bright with wet.

  “One big happy family,” she whispered.

  “One big happy family,” Layne whispered back.

  “Again,” she finished now trying to force her smile.

  “You missed her,” Layne said softly.

  “She made you happy,” Vera bullshitted.

  “Bullshit,” Layne called her on it. “You missed her.”

  She took in a deep breath then she spoke.

  “You know, Tanner, I was once head over heels in lo
ve,” she told him. “Blind with it. Blind. Then he walked out on me just like she walked out on you.”

  Fuck. Jesus. Fuck!

  Layne hadn’t thought of it like that.

  “Ma –”

  “Then I had to watch it happen to you and feel it again because yes, I loved her and when she left, I missed her. But she wasn’t gone, like your father, and every time I saw her, it hurt even more.”

  Layne stared at his mother.

  Then he ordered, “Come here, Ma.”

  She shook her head. “No. If I do, you’re gonna be my sweet boy and make me cry and I don’t have waterproof mascara on.”

  “Come here, Ma,” Layne repeated.

  “Tanner.”

  “Get over here.”

  She sighed, set her cup on the arm of the couch, got up and walked to him. When she got close, Layne jumped from the desk and folded his mother in his arms.

  He knew she was crying even with her voice muffled by his chest when he heard her say, “You know, you haven’t hugged me since I got home.”

  Layne bent and kissed the top of her head and then said there, “I’m a shit son.”

  Her head tilted back and her wet eyes hit him, mascara running down, before she whispered, “No, not that, never that, honey. Never.”

  “Love you, Ma,” he whispered back, she grinned and lifted her hand, patting him on the side of the neck twice before her fingers curled around.

  Then her smile got bigger and she stated, “I’m glad we got this sorted out. Being mean is exhausting. Especially when, at the same time, you’re over the moon that your eldest grandchild has finally sorted out his head and your son is with a woman who cheers on the Colts, helps his boy with his homework and falls asleep on his chest and not one that screeches her nonsense at the top of her lungs at every available opportunity. So, I’ll warn you now, if you ever think of reuniting with Gabrielle, I will not offer to be your receptionist. I’ll have you committed.”

  Layne smiled down at her. “Not thinkin’ that’s in the cards, Ma.”

  “Thank God,” she breathed, still smiling, she took her hand away and smeared her mascara across her face.

  “Maybe you need a mirror,” he suggested and she jumped from his arms.

  “I knew it!” she cried, whirled and rushed into the bathroom.

  Layne looked at the closed bathroom door while counting them down. That was two problems covered, his Ma and Astley. Then he walked back into his office thinking, his mother wanted to help out, he’d let her. She could do the books. He had checks to cash, invoices to send and bills to be paid. He was going to spend Monday doing it. Now, Vera could spend Friday doing it.

  He didn’t make it to his desk when he heard the beep, looked to the monitor and saw Ryker walking up the stairs.

  “What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, quickly rounded the desk, pulled his nine millimeter out of a drawer and shoved it in the waistband of his jeans at his hip.

  He was back in the outer office by the time Ryker came through the door.

  “Yo, bro,” Ryker greeted.

  “Ryker,” Layne returned, hoping his mother was adding a whole new layer of makeup.

  Ryker looked around the office then back at Layne. “Dig the digs,” he commented.

  “Thrilled you approve,” Layne replied.

  Ryker’s eyes dropped to Layne’s gun then went back to his and he smiled his big, ugly smile. “Nine millimeter? Take that as a compliment, bro.”

  Layne cut to the chase. “You here for a reason?”

  Without delay, Ryker walked in, skirted Layne and went into his office. Layne stood where he was, eyes on the bathroom door, counting to ten.

  He found this didn’t work and he followed Ryker into his office to see him lounging in one of the two chairs in front of Layne’s desk.

  Layne rounded the desk, pulled out his gun and set it on the desktop, close, as he sat down.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  “Thought we could go out, get a beer, play some pool,” Ryker replied and Layne stared.

  Then he asked, “Come again?”

  “Pool. Beer. Women. We both got hot babes but that don’t mean we can’t look.”

  “Not sure what keeps you in motorcycle boots and leather jackets but it’s four o’clock in the afternoon and I got two growin’ boys so I gotta work for a living,” Layne replied.

  Ryker smiled his big, ugly smile again and stated, “Yeah, been askin’ ‘round about you. You’re like King Dick. The top of the Private Dick Heap. What you charge, bro, you could work three hours a day and still feed those two powerhouses.”

  “I worked three hours a day, Ryker, wouldn’t have clients to pay those fees,” Layne returned.

  Ryker shrugged, “Suit yourself.” Then he leaned forward and asked, “So what we workin’?”

  Oh shit.

  “We?” Layne asked back.

  “Yeah,” Ryker lounged back in his seat, “we.”

  “I think I told you already I work alone.”

  “Now you work with me.”

  “I skipped a part,” Layne informed him. “How’d that happen?”

  “Baranski’s out of your old old lady’s house. That happened because of me. You think I do somethin’ for nothin’?”

  Fuck.

  “And payback is we partner up?” Layne asked.

  Ryker shrugged again. “Sure, when I’m bored and I’m bored,” he answered. “So what we workin’?”

  Layne heard the bathroom door open and Ryker shot out of his chair, his hand going behind his back, he pulled out his .45.

  Fuck!

  “Honey?” Vera called.

  “In here, Ma,” Layne called back and then said low to Ryker, “Stand down.”

  Ryker relaxed and shoved his gun back right before Vera hit the door. She looked up at Ryker and her mouth dropped open.

  “My,” she breathed, “you’re a big boy.”

  “Ma, this is Ryker. Ryker, Vera Layne,” Layne introduced.

  Ryker grinned his ugly grin and stuck out a meaty hand. “Ma’am.”

  Vera took it and shook it, placing her other hand on top, saying, “Ryker. Is that your first name or your last?”

  “Both,” Ryker replied and her eyebrows shot up.

  “Both? You’re a one name man?” she asked and Ryker let go of her hand.

  “Yep,” Ryker answered and Vera’s eyes shot to Layne.

  “How neat!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never met a one name person before!”

  Ryker turned his ugly smile to Layne.

  Layne sighed.

  Then he suggested, “Ma, how ‘bout you get your coffee, get your ass to the grocery store and buy a beef tenderloin for dinner.”

  Vera stared at him and then stated firmly, “Beef tenderloin is for special occasions, Tanner, you know that.”

  “Like you makin’ up for bein’ a bitch to Roc for the last week, an occasion like that?” Layne replied. “It’s her favorite, or, when you used to make it, it was.”

  Vera was silent before she whispered, “Oh, right.”

  Layne smiled at her to take the bite out of his earlier words. “Don’t forget the horseradish sauce and you can come in tomorrow and do my books.”

  He watched his mother’s face light up. “Really?”

  Jesus, only his mother, the nutcase CPA, would be excited about doing books.

  “Yeah,” Layne said.

  “Fantastic!” she cried then turned to Ryker and announced, “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she leaned in, grinned and said like she and Ryker shared an in-joke, “Ryker.”

  Then she disappeared.

  Layne looked to the monitors to watch his mother walk down the stairs as Ryker resumed his seat.

  “Your Ma was a bitch to your babe?” Ryker asked and Layne’s eyes cut to him.

  “Long story,” Layne mumbled.

  “Bro,” Ryker grinned.

  You understand my vision of justice, Ryker had said.

&nbs
p; Layne stared at him but he didn’t spend much time doing it before he made a decision.

  “You know TJ Gaines?” Layne asked.

  “Who?” Ryker asked back.

  “Youth Minister at the Christian Church,” Layne answered and the grin faded from Ryker’s face and Layne watched it go scary.

  “Don’t know what that is,” Ryker said quietly, his voice lethal. “Just know that shit ain’t right.”

  “Have you heard something?” Layne asked.

  “Everyone in the ‘burg is whisperin’ about it,” Ryker responded. “No one likes it but no one’s got a handle on it.”

  “Well, I’m lookin’ into it and now you are too.”

  Ryker’s grin came back. “What you got?” he asked.

  “Nothin’. Just an apartment at The Brendel. Don’t know if he lives there or if he visits someone there. Unit K. Apartment three. I need to know when I can get in so I need someone watching it. You need to get me intel on who the occupants are, how many there are, when they come, when they go and when I can get in to do a clean sweep. I don’t wanna toss the place. I need time to do it right but I gotta know when that time’ll be.”

  “Brendel’s the ‘burg’s Fort Knox. Even pads on The Heritage don’t have that kind of security. And even if I manage to hang out and take notes which, bro, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not exactly the kinda guy who fades into the woodwork, especially at a place like The Brendel, ain’t no way you’d get in.”

  “They sensor the windows not the doors,” Layne replied.

  “Hunh?”

  “If they fucked the security at Gaines’s place like they fucked the security at Roc’s place, they sensored the windows on his balcony, not the doors.”

  “Roc?”

  “My woman.”

  “Her name is Roc?” Ryker shook his head. “Bro, I got a good look at her and she don’t look like no rock to me. Nothin’ hard on her, all curves and soft.”

  “Her name’s Raquel and, just a head’s up, maybe after I have a few beers and a game of pool, I might be okay with you talkin’ about my woman like that but…” Layne hesitated and gave him a look. “Wait, no, I’ll never be okay with you talkin’ about my woman like that,” Layne warned.

  Ryker grinned again.

  Layne lost patience.

  “Are you in?” he demanded.