I'll Say Anything

by Danielle Bourdon

  The news that Jasper both owed a loan shark money and that Brooks was apparently responsible for the dead man in the alley upset me equally. A hundred questions rushed to the front of my mind. “How do you know this? Do you work for Brooks?”

  “No. Let's just say I've been around the block in this town, darling, and I know what Parker's 'work' looks like. I bet the dead man owed Parker, too, and they stuck Jasper's ID on him so that Jasper couldn't miss the message. Know what I mean?”

  Trying to swallow past the knot in my throat, I said, “Is there any chance you're wrong?”

  Adrian shook his head. “No. You better get Jasper to pay up soon, or bad things will happen.”

  This time, when Adrian stepped around me, I didn't stop him. Shock kept me rooted to the spot as the rain intensified. Thunder cracked, lightning blitzed overhead.

  That explained the missing money in the jar. Jasper must have gambled it, or meant to, to try and pay Brooks back. Suddenly I recalled Jasper asking to go in and make a bet in a casino, the night I'd been riding piggyback.

  I should have known something was wrong.

  Letting myself in the door to get out of the rain, I pulled my cell phone from my front pocket and dialed Ramsey. He answered on the fourth ring, just when I was about to give up.

  “Yes?”

  “Ramsey, it's me. Finley.”

  “Hello, Finley. What's up?”

  “I need a favor. Can you drive me home real quick?” After not seeing or talking to Ramsey in days, I felt a little guilty calling him now. Yet he'd insisted that he would help me any time, in any way I needed.

  “Sure. Which exit do you want to meet at?”

  I gave him my position and hung up to wait.

  Ramsey couldn't get me home fast enough.

  *

  “I'm sorry, I'm getting your car wet.” Soaked to the skin, my clothes left smears of wetness on the seat of Ramsey's Rolls Royce.

  “It's water, it won't hurt.” Ramsey turned on the wipers and pulled out of the parking lot. The headlight beams pierced the darkness of a back road, lighting the way through the rain. He added, “Is everything okay?”

  “I don't know, to be honest. I'll find out shortly, though. Didn't Adrian tell you?” I glanced across the car. Ramsey, attired in a navy pin-striped suit, met my eyes for a moment. Then he looked back at the road.

  “Apparently he hasn't, or I would know what you're talking about.”

  “The dead man in the alley.”

  “What about him?” Ramsey frowned.

  “Adrian said it's the work of Parker Brooks.” I watched Ramsey's expression for signs of familiarity. The frown on his brow deepened.

  “Parker Brooks is a loan shark in town. He operates with as low a profile as he possibly can.”

  “That's what Adrian said.”

  “Does Jasper owe him money?” Ramsey asked.

  “Adrian took a guess and said that yes, Jasper must owe him. He said the man in the alley was a message for Jasper. To hurry his payment along or something.” I didn't realize I was twisting a piece of hair around my finger until Ramsey reached over and gently calmed my hand, pushing it down to my lap. Our fingers brushed. Moving my hand a few inches out of range for some unbeknownst reason, I stared at the storm out the window.

  Several minutes passed by, with only the swish-swish of the windshield wipers breaking up the silence.

  “Let me know if you need anything else. I'll be up for a while yet,” Ramsey said a few minutes later when he cruised to a stop behind the garage. Jasper's beat up Camaro sat in front of a bay door, indicating he was home.

  “Thanks, Ramsey. I will. And I appreciate you driving me home.” Leaning across the seat, I brushed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

  Chaste, when mere days ago all I could think about was a one night stand.

  “Mhm,” was all Ramsey said in reply.

  Getting out of the car, I crossed to the door and let myself in. The rain was still falling in sheets, obliterating everything but Ramsey's red taillights. He disappeared around the corner and I closed the door, anxious to find Jasper and ask about the money. About Parker Brooks and the dead body.

  Feminine laughter trilled from the bedroom, followed by the creak of the mattress and Jasper's low voice, the words too quiet to make out.

  Frozen in place, one hand still on the doorknob, I listened to the laughter turn into a groan.

  Just like that, I snapped.

  Irrationally angry, I marched through the living room, shaking rain out of my hair and off my clothes and used a foot to kick the half cracked door all the way open.

  I wasn't quiet about it, either.

  A woman, maybe the same one in the sleek red car, maybe not, was flat on her back with Jasper between her legs, their clothes open along the front but not all the way off. Her glimmering black shirt gaped wide, exposing a seductive red and black lacy bra, the fastening of her pants unbuttoned and parted wide. Jasper's jeans hung around his hips, barely staying up, his tee shirt bunched around his chest from the woman's prying hands.

  Clearly, had I arrived ten minutes later, I would have caught them totally naked and probably in the act.

  The bang startled the woman as well as Jasper, who lurched back while snatching sloppily around the end of the bed for a bat.

  To top it all off, Jasper was drunk. I could tell by the weaving balance, the slower reaction time than normal.

  “Who the hell are you?” the woman screeched, sitting up while yanking the open layers of her shirt across her front.

  “Get out,” I said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Or I swear, I'll throw you out.”

  “Finley—you're not due home for another hour,” Jasper said when he realized who stood in the doorway. He scowled next, hitching his jeans higher on his hips.

  The very idea that Jasper would have brought the woman here when he was so obviously in big trouble with a loan shark made me see red. I didn't think he had time to do anything but pay off Parker Brooks before he ended up dead. Reminded of the morgue and my fear only made it worse.

  “No, you lost track of time, which isn't surprising since you're drunk off your ass.” Any other time, the Jasper I grew up with would have winced or cringed or got that look on his face when he knew he'd done something I really hated. We tried not to push those buttons with each other, the things that seriously upset us. Yet there he was, inebriated to the point his balance was compromised.

  “This is ridiculous. You didn't mention you had a girlfriend,” the woman said, rising off the bed with a huff.

  “I'm not his girlfriend.”

  “She's not my girlfriend,” Jasper said at the same time.

  The woman brushed past me, still trying to fix her clothes.

  I didn't bother watching her walk out the door. Instead, I preferred to glare at Jasper.

  “Cecilia! Wait.” Jasper swayed toward the door, toward me.

  I blocked the way. Bracing both arms against the frame, I refused to let him by. “A little rain won't hurt her, unless she's the Wicked Witch of the west, and then she's got a problem. Pity.” I couldn't summon any sympathy for Cecilia, even if none of this was her fault.

  Jasper fastened the button on his jeans and glowered, standing close enough that I could smell the liquor on his breath.

  “You're way outta line, Finley,” Jasper said, reaching out for one of my wrists.

  I still refused to move. No matter how drunk Jasper was, or how angry, he wouldn't ever hurt me. I knew that as well as I knew the sun would rise tomorrow. He might move me out of the way, but Jasper Lowe would rather eat nails than cause me physical harm.

  “I don't think so. Why are you doing this when you've got more important things to worry about?” I asked, struggling to contain my temper.

  “Yeah? Like what?” He loomed in front of me, releasing my wrist to brace a hand on the doorframe above my head.

  “Like paying Parker Brooks back before his thugs take your life.”

/>   Chapter Fourteen

  Thunder roared through the sky while rain drove nails into the roof. I stared at Jasper and he stared at me, some of his inebriation evaporating in the face of my blunt statement. I imagined it might have been like a splash of cold water, startling him into a higher state of awareness. If I'd had any doubt about his debt, or involvement with the loan shark, I didn't any longer.

  “How did you find out about that?” Jasper finally asked. He didn't look happy.

  “It doesn't matter. I know. And here you are, screwing around with some chick, when you need to be worrying about how to pay this guy back. How much do you owe him, Jasper? The whole six grand that's missing from the jar?”

  “That doesn't concern you--”

  “Oh yes it does,” I argued, removing one hand from the doorway to jab a finger into his chest. “I didn't contribute a ton of money to the jar, but at least two grand of that was mine. So don't pretend it was all yours--”

  “I'm not. But you're not going to get involved in this and that's that.” Jasper pushed past me.

  I let him go, but followed right on his heels. It irked me endlessly that he went straight to the window to look outside. Searching for his lost love Cecilia, I knew.

  “She's probably long gone, and good riddance. You want to sleep with her? You do it at her place. Or in her car, or where ever.” Defensive and disturbed, I caught myself before my 'rules' could turn into a full blown rant. Why did I care so much all of a sudden? Two months ago, I would have slung back on the couch and listened to Jasper's antics and tales of seduction without much thought.

  Jasper scowled over his shoulder. “I live here, too. I'll have anyone over that I want.”

  “That's the liquor talking. Drink some coffee, then tell me how much you owe Parker Brooks.”

  “No.” Jasper spun around and sank down onto the loveseat. He sprawled his legs as he was wont to, one arm draped along the back of the cushions.

  “Jasper, why are you being so stubborn? I already know about it. Let's figure out how to fix it so we can get on with life.” As mad as I was, I was secretly more fearful that Jasper would end up like the guy in the alley. The cops might or might not be able to track the crime back to Parker, and I figured that the loan shark probably knew every way (including bribery) to throw the cops off his scent. Taking Jasper out wouldn't be any sweat off Parker's brow, but it would devastate my world.

  “You just have to give me a little more time. That's all.” Jasper rubbed half his face with his hand.

  “I don't think you have a lot more time. Those men came here that day looking for you—and then left you a 'message' in the alley. As far as I can tell, you've hit critical mass with these guys and their only option left is to end you.”

  “Finley--”

  “What did you borrow the money for?”

  “I don't--”

  “Was it more than six thousand?”

  “Finley...”

  “How long ago was it?”

  “Will you st--”

  “No, I won't stop. I can put all my paychecks toward it--”

  “Finley, I owe Parker Brooks ten grand! Okay? I owe him ten thousand dollars and I don't have it.” Jasper thrust his hands to the sides in supplication, glassy stare locked on mine.

  Ten thousand dollars. I could hardly wrap my mind around it. Quietly, I asked, “So where did the six grand go? Tell me you didn't take a turn at the craps table or roulette...”

  “No, no. That was the interest I owed.”

  “Interest? Six thousand dollars in interest?” I wondered if I sounded as aghast as I felt. Six thousand dollars, wasted. Thrown away. Money we would never get back.

  “That's right. I still owe the original ten and now that I had to pay the interest, I don't have anything else to give them. So are you gonna stand there and rake me over the coals for drinking a little and taking my mind off my troubles with a girl that doesn't want anything more from me than I want from her?” Jasper pushed to a stand and swayed his way into the kitchenette. In short order, the scent of coffee permeated the entire apartment.

  It was a crisis of monumental proportions, I thought. Jasper owed money he could not pay back and Parker Brooks was tightening the noose. Distraught at the thought of fatal harm coming to Jasper, I sank down into one of the chairs at the table. Bracing my elbows on the shiny surface, I cycled through options.

  “What about your folks?” I asked.

  “You know they don't have an extra ten Gs lying around.” Jasper brought two mugs of coffee to the table, set mine in front of me, and slouched into the opposite chair. “Dad got laid off last year with the city, so they've been living off their savings. I can't—won't—ask them to help.”

  “Mine don't have it either.” I blew across the mug, cooling the coffee enough so it wouldn't scald my tongue. “What if we ask yours for five and mine for five? That might be more reasonable.”

  “I can't, Fin. They're having to live pretty frugal as it is. Mom's job doesn't pay that much.”

  “It's better than you being dead. I think they'd fork over whatever they had to.” I sipped the coffee anyway, wincing at the sting.

  “I can't.”

  “I can. I'll just give them a call--”

  “Don't, Finley. Promise me you won't.” He arched a brow.

  Promises. I couldn't promise and not follow through. Reluctantly, I nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “I promise.” Not interested in the coffee, I pushed the mug away and skimmed my fingertips through my damp hair. Glancing around the apartment, I exhaled. There wasn't anything to sell. Our furniture was dismal and not worth much, if anything. We had one end table, a hand-me-down from someone at Jasper's work, and the retro-table which might fetch us a few hundred bucks at best.

  “What did you spend the initial money on, anyway? The loan money?” I asked to distract myself.

  “I was going to surprise you. There was this place down town—not the best, and not the greatest location. It needed paint real bad and work done on the outside, but the guy only wanted twelve thousand for it. I talked him down to ten since I had cash. There were three garage bays and more than enough room to get us going. I'd heard about Brooks through someone else at work who had needed money as well, and decided to risk it. The building wouldn't last, and it was perfect for us. One of the only places we could buy outright and not pay astronomical rent in a nicer complex.” Jasper raked a hand through his hair, features twisting into a mask of disgust. “I should have known. Even as busted up as the building was, it probably sold for twice that much at least. Anyway, the guy took my money and disappeared. I called the cops when I realized I'd been scammed but the damage was done. They haven't located him and Brooks doesn't care what I spent the money on, he just wants it back.”

  I wasn't surprised that Jasper had tried to do a deal without telling me first. He'd been surprising me with one thing or another our whole lives. That he'd misjudged the 'seller' surprised me more than the attempt to procure a garage for our future venture. Shrewd and alert, Jasper wasn't usually susceptible to scammers. It answered a lot of questions about the money and some of Jasper's recent actions.

  “So what do we do?” I asked in a quiet voice.

  “I don't know, Fin. I've beat my head against the wall trying to figure it out. I've worked extra shifts, socked away all my tips—everything. It's just not enough. Now I have to start all over again at zero.” Jasper groaned and slouched further into the seat, staring across the table from beneath half lidded eyes.

  “Maybe not zero.” I scooted my chair back far enough to get into my pocket. Pulling out a fold of bills, I scattered them on the table and started counting. “Okay, I've got a hundred and sixty-five here. How much cash do you have on you?”

  “Fin, Brooks won't take payments that small. He wants two grand at a time, or the whole thing.”

  “Just tell me how much cash you've got.”

  Jasper finished his coffee, set the mug d
own, and pulled money from his jeans. With sloppy movements, he counted it out, having to start over three different times. “I've got four hundred and fifty to my name.”

  “Six-fifteen, that's not bad.” Before Jasper could fold it up and slide it back into his pocket, I reached over and snatched the wad.

  “Hey...”

  “Come on. Let's get some sleep and let the storm blow out. By the time we wake up in a few hours, you'll be sober and we can go.” I stood up from the chair.

  “Go where? That's part of our rent money, you know.” Jasper grunted as he pushed to his feet.

  “Just come on. Quit talking.” I led Jasper into the bedroom—which was tainted for me by that other woman—and shook the covers out before kicking off my shoes. My clothes were wet from the rain, and after some shuffling around Jasper, I found something dry to wear for sleep.

  “What are you up to?” Jasper said, peeling out of of his tee shirt but leaving his jeans on. He wasn't wet, like I was.

  “You'll see. Sleep. I'll set the alarm for four.”

  “In the morning? Are you crazy?”

  “Probably.”

  *

  By four-fifteen, we were dressed and in Jasper's Camaro. Slick from rain, the streets gleamed as Jasper drove the backroads I directed him down. I refused to tell him at first where we were going—even I didn't know until instinct kicked in—and wouldn't give him any hints, either.

  When Jasper finally parked, he cut the engine and stared up through the windshield at the Union Plaza, a hotel and casino located downtown. Then he glanced at me.

  “Yep. Come on.” I didn't want to agonize over the decision. To think too hard on what I was about to do.

  What we were about to do.

  Getting out of the car, I shut the door and hitched my jeans an inch higher on my hips. Jasper, dressed likewise in familiar jeans and a plain tee shirt, didn't complain when I launched myself onto his back, arms looping around his shoulders, legs caught by his hands. I put my mouth near his ear.

  “For good luck,” I whispered, as if him toting me piggyback had anything to do with it. Feeling the warmth of Jasper's skin through the thin barrier of his tee-shirt, I attempted to reconcile myself with what I considered to be our last saving grace. As the doors to the Union Plaza drew closer, I stared up at the tall building with its arching light display.