Olivier

by TJ Nichols

  “Hi, Mom.” He hadn’t wanted to leave home, but he’d known there was no way he could stay if he dropped out of college. It was a choice between his sanity and pleasing his father. Sanity had won.

  They went in and sat in the formal living room. She’d redecorated. Gone were the blues. Instead the room was crisp green and white with accents of gold. It was the third color scheme he remembered. Had he missed out on a look while he was away?

  There was tea and cookies already on the table. A lazy coil of steam rose from the pot. The family never sat in that room or used those plates. They were the guest plates. The effect wasn’t lost on him. He was a guest, even though she welcomed him in.

  He sat on the edge of a beautiful but hard sofa that probably cost more than a month’s mortgage on his place.

  His mother poured the tea. “You wanted to see me?”

  Right down to business. “I did. I thought I should, since I’m in the state.”

  She nodded. She seemed very composed for a woman who’d just lost a son. But who was he to judge when he still struggled to believe Connor was dead? Twice he’d caught himself wanting to call Connor to ask him something, only to remember that Connor was gone. He had to find out what happened to Connor.

  Lily hadn’t spoken to him since their meeting, and he wondered if she’d remembered to look for the key. He had contemplated walking into the bank to see if they’d open the box for him. That might work if he had the cops with him, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet. If the information could bring down the family, it was probably better if it didn’t make it into the hands of the police.

  “I just can’t believe it,” he said. That was true, and maybe Connor was all they had in common. It wasn’t as though his mother had called to check up on him. A few letters, and after a year, even they stopped. Because she didn’t care or because his father had put a stop to it?

  She nodded again. “It was a shock for everyone. His poor wife.” She sipped her tea, her eyes glassy. “You spoke to her. How is she?” She lowered her voice. “I don’t think she’s coping very well.”

  Cody thought that was to be expected. He actually thought Lily was doing okay. But if she came there full of wild stories about murder and missing tox reports, then of course his mother would click her tongue and recommend medication.

  “She’s upset.” Upset about Connor’s death or the circumstances, he wasn’t sure. In those social circles, one kept one’s drug addictions discreet. Connor had failed to do that. Was it as simple as that? Connor had embarrassed the family? No. The punishment didn’t fit the crime.

  “We all are. We were so very shocked. They were here on the Friday before, and everything seemed fine.”

  Cody picked up a cookie. “I heard that Connor and Dad weren’t getting along.”

  His mother flinched, but her expression didn’t change. “They disagreed over some minor business thing.” She flicked her hand as though it were nothing. “Did you speak with Connor often?”

  Her voice wobbled at the mention of his brother’s name. Did she know the truth, or was she fishing for information to feed his father? He didn’t think his mother would stand by and let something happen to her child… but then she did nothing when his father kicked him out as punishment for not doing as he was told. She was devoted to her husband.

  Cody hated that he was starting to see everything as part of a conspiracy. Damn you, Connor.

  “No. Not as often as I should have.” He should’ve made more of an effort, even though they were both busy. He should have gone to his brother’s wedding, even though Connor asked him not to come. If he’d been closer to Connor, maybe he could’ve done something. “It’s something I will regret for the rest of my life.” That was the truth, and he couldn’t escape it, no matter what he did. He’d follow the clues Connor had left and hope his brother forgave him for not being there when he needed help.

  His mother drank her tea, and the silence settled. If she knew anything, she wasn’t going to say. If he revealed anything, she would tell Dad. Cody had no doubt. Since Connor had been afraid of their father, it might be wise for him to be wary as well.

  “And how are you? Are you still in Vegas?” She gave a slight sniff, as though the idea of living there were distasteful. “Do you plan on staying there?”

  “Yes. That’s where my business is.”

  She nodded. Had his parents kept an eye on him from afar, or had they turned their backs and never once glanced over their shoulders?

  She might be his mother, but there were many years between them. He wasn’t twenty and unsure of what he wanted. He knew who he was and was happy… mostly. He wasn’t lying when he said he regretted not being closer to Connor over the last five years or so.

  “No wife?”

  “No.” That was never going to happen. Had she chosen to ignore that he was gay, or had she never figured it out? Perhaps Connor had taken that secret to his unexpected grave.

  “Mmm.”

  He could tell her, but as he sat on her uncomfy sofa in her pristine house, he didn’t want to. He didn’t have to share anything with his mother. He was entitled to his secrets.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CODY CHECKED his reflection. The new haircut made him look like Connor, but his expression wasn’t quite right. His brother had always had a set to his jaw. He experimented a few times. Better.

  Connor would haunt the church and see if he could rattle a few chains and shake out a few monsters. He picked up his cardboard sign and bag and went out to hail a cab.

  He was early, as planned, so he set up near the front stairs—not close enough to be in the way, but in a place where he could execute his plan. In magic, planning and misdirection were everything. He had an old, paper coffee cup and a sign that read,

  Pray for Justice.

  He wanted to write revenge, but revenge was careless. Justice was much harder to come by. He doubted Connor would ever get that when no one but Lily and he thought anything was amiss. Maybe they were both wrong, but he doubted it. Benitez’s reaction to Connor’s ghost would be very telling. He didn’t plan to sit around long enough for Benitez to send Olivier to talk to him. He’d give Benitez a fright and then vanish like the apparition he was supposed to be.

  The sidewalk was cold, and he was surprised when people did drop a few coins or dollar bills in his cup. His heart beat fast when he saw the town car pull up and Benitez get out.

  Cody knew the moment Benitez saw him. He paused as he got out of the car, one foot on the sidewalk and one foot in the car. Their eyes met, and Benitez actually blanched.

  Guilty.

  Benitez recovered, smoothed his coat, and got out of the car. Then he walked over. Cody did what he did best, what he’d planned to do.

  Birdseed scattered up the road and pigeons squawked. The people going into church turned their attention to the kerfuffle, and Cody moved fast and became part of the crowd.

  Benitez walked to where Cody had been sitting. He glanced around, but saw only somberly dressed people heading into church—no bareheaded beggar in castoffs. Cody leaned against the door with his scarf up high. The thin blanket he’d been wearing as a beggar was now the scarf. A hat hid his hair. He’d practiced the whole quick change to make sure it would work. His disguise wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny, but Benitez wasn’t looking for a man in a suit. He was looking for Connor begging on the street… begging for justice. Cody blinked back the heat in his eyes. Connor was gone.

  The crime boss toed the sign and turned it over.

  It wasn’t an accident.

  Benitez stepped back as though struck. Cody smiled as he walked into the church. If church was where Benitez came to wash the blood off his hands, Cody would be there to remind him how hard it was to be clean. He took a seat near the back so he could watch and study.

  For an hour he lost himself in his observations.

  OLIVIER WAS pissed that once again his Sunday plans had been ruined by a dead man. If Cody kept it up, he wo
uld be a dead man. Olivier would do it himself, without an order. Heat washed through his blood. He drew in a breath and exhaled. He wasn’t going to kill without an order. That would be stupid. And he wasn’t going to kill Cody just because he was being stupid. Benitez had called him, worried about a beggar with a sign. The sign had nothing incriminating on it, but Benitez had a guilty conscience.

  Olivier probably should feel guilt or maybe a little remorse, but bad things happened every day. It was a “kill or be killed” world. If Olivier hadn’t helped Connor overdose, it would have been someone else—or maybe it would’ve happened anyway, given enough time.

  At least if Cody was there making trouble, he wasn’t meeting up with Lily. The last thing he needed was the other watcher to report Cody to Benitez. So far, Lily and Cody hadn’t met very often. He thought they’d given up, but Cody hadn’t left the city. Olivier had seen him run errands and return to the hotel. He wanted to stop him and tell him to leave, but he’d come to enjoy watching. If Cody realized he was there, he hadn’t given any indication.

  Cody was the first man out of the church. He was well muffled against the cold, but Olivier didn’t forget people.

  Cody didn’t glance up the street. He acted as though he had places to be—hopefully an airport. He turned right and briskly walked away. Olivier followed. This time he would leave no doubt in the brother’s mind that he should get the fuck out of New York. Obviously he hadn’t been clear enough the first time. Cody probably didn’t spend much time with dangerous people and didn’t know a hint when it sat at his table with a carefully concealed gun.

  Olivier jogged down the subway stairs, careful to keep Cody in sight. He hadn’t turned around once. Did he have no clue what he was dealing with? Killing him would be no challenge. It would be a waste. He remembered the way Cody had watched him, the way he’d smiled. There was a heat in his eyes that Olivier was sure he hadn’t imagined. He wished he had.

  He shouldn’t be thinking those things about Cody, but he had and he enjoyed them.

  Olivier waited up the platform. He didn’t know if he should sit next to Cody on the train or follow him home like a lost puppy. The train screamed into the station. Cody got on through one set of doors and Olivier got on through another. Then he made his way through the carriage as the train moved. His quarry was trapped until the next stop.

  And so totally oblivious. He had his phone out and was typing away.

  How could brothers be so different? Connor had been a jumpy junkie whose only concern was his wife.

  Olivier sat down next to Cody.

  Cody glanced at him and then back at his phone. Olivier saw the precise moment that the wheels in Cody’s brain ground to a stop. His whole body stiffened and then his phone tumbled out of his hand and fell on the floor. Olivier picked it up and scanned the screen. A message to Lily. Did they realize what a dangerous game they were playing. No, they thought it was a game—a puzzle to solve before they went back to their real lives. They were trying to assuage their guilt for not saving Connor from himself.

  He envied them their optimism and hated that it was his real life and there was no escape.

  “Here you go.” He smiled, even though he didn’t like the way Cody had cut his hair in that preppy I-have-money style that his brother had worn. It didn’t suit him, but it had suited his twin. How odd. “You cut your hair.”

  Cody’s eyes widened as though he couldn’t believe the conversation was happening. “Why are you here?”

  “To see you.” Truth. “We can talk here or we go somewhere else. I’m suggesting your place. That’s where you were going?”

  “I’ll call the police,” Cody said in a low voice.

  Olivier leaned in as though he were about to whisper in Cody’s ear. In another life or if his weren’t such a lie, maybe that would have been possible. “And tell them what?” He put his hand on Cody’s leg. “That you got picked up on the train? Or that you’re stalking my boss? Who has the money and lawyers to make that stick?” He shrugged and leaned back, but left his hand where it was.

  “What makes you think I want to be picked up by you?” He managed to almost look offended.

  “Oh, honey, it was all over your face in the coffee shop.”

  Cody’s cheeks turned pink, and he stared at the screen of his phone. “What do you want… or shouldn’t I ask, in case I end up like Connor?”

  “Unfortunately it isn’t about what I want.” If it were, he’d have suggested coffee… maybe dinner. He really needed to get out and pretend to be normal for half a second, because thinking about Cody like that meant he was seriously fucked up. He’d killed the man’s brother. He waited for guilt or something to kick in and prove that he wasn’t all broken on the inside, but got nothing.

  “What does your boss want, then?”

  There were too many people on the train for that. They needed privacy. “Not here. Do you trust me?”

  “No.” Cody studied him as though he were a knot to be unraveled, if only he could find the right thread to pull. Olivier wanted to help him. If he came apart, he’d be free.

  Cody seemed no wiser than his brother. He couldn’t continue to provoke Benitez.

  “Coffee?” Cody asked after a moment. “We can talk, but you don’t get to see where I’m staying.”

  “What makes you think I don’t already know?”

  Cody’s eyes widened for a second, but he didn’t pull away or call for help. His gaze remained steady and filled with curiosity. “You need a bell around your neck.”

  Olivier smiled. Any house cat worth his claws learned how to hunt, even with a bell on. “Thank you.”

  “That wasn’t a—” The train stopped, and Cody stood. “This’ll do.”

  Olivier glanced up to see where they were and then followed. He was careful not to lose Cody as people left the train. Once they were on the platform, he grabbed Cody’s hand. When Cody glanced at him, he smiled. “Can’t have you slipping away before we talk.”

  “Would you like to handcuff me?” he said without a trace of humor.

  “What would be the fun in that when we can both get out of them?” Olivier could definitely get out of handcuffs and he assumed that Cody could, since he was an ex-magician turned trick-designing store owner.

  That brought a fleeting smile to Cody’s lips. Olivier didn’t soften his grip. He led Cody out of the subway and to the first café he saw. It was a trendy little place that served raw food and organic coffee without real milk. He should have looked left instead of right.

  “What do you drink?” Olivier asked.

  “Black coffee. And I’ll have the vegan chocolate cake. You’re paying, right? You did want this meeting, after all.”

  He hadn’t wanted the meeting, but now that he was here, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his Sunday. It wasn’t a date—couldn’t be a date—even though, for a moment, he wanted to believe it was possible. He gritted his teeth and smiled. “Sure.”

  Cody must have realized that he’d pushed a little too far. “I was joking.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket. “My… er… tips from today.”

  Not only had he posed as a beggar, he’d managed to get money.

  The girl behind the counter didn’t look impressed with their bickering over who would pay, and she gave Olivier a dirty look. He forced a smile.

  “Keep your tips. You can pick up the bill next time.” Olivier managed to sound friendly. He ordered for himself and Cody, took the wooden pink elephant the waitress handed to him, and wondered what he should do with it. Then he noticed all the occupied tables had a colored elephant instead of number.

  Why did a vegan café have elephants? Wouldn’t carrots be more appropriate?

  Cody picked a table toward the back. It was an awful spot. He couldn’t watch the door, and his back would be to the aisle because he wanted Cody cornered against the wall.

  “No. That one.” He pointed to the corner table. Still couldn’t see the door, but at least he�
�d have a wall at his back. He put the elephant down in the center without waiting for agreement. It was only then that he released Cody’s hand.

  He expected Cody to do something dumb like try to run. For a moment they stood and watched each other.

  Cody pulled out a chair and sat. “Let’s talk, since that’s what you want.”

  Olivier wanted to talk, but for all the wrong reasons. It was supposed to be work. He sat and leaned back. Where to start? “So how did you do it?”

  “I won’t reveal my tricks.” Cody laced his fingers. “You must have learned a few card tricks as a kid, or watched a stage show.” His gaze skimmed over Olivier. “You probably use some of the same kind of skills that I do.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  Cody’s eyebrows flicked up, but he didn’t offer any explanation.

  “How about why, then. After our last chat, I thought you got the message.”

  “I did, and I ignored it.” He leaned in. “My brother is dead, and I want to know why. I owe him that.”

  “It won’t bring him back. It will just piss off the wrong people.”

  “Like you? Look, I know it won’t bring him back. I just want answers.” The look in Cody’s eyes hinted at a dogged determination. “It wasn’t an accidental OD. Someone killed him, and I think it was your boss, given the way he flinched when he saw Connor’s ghost.”

  Olivier drew in a breath, but their order arrived before he could speak. He regretted not ordering cake when he saw Cody’s. Cody tipped sugar into his coffee and took a sip like it was some kind of miracle health tonic.

  “My boss knew him, and he finds you upsetting. All evidence says it was an accident.” The lies burned his tongue. “What are you going to do? You aren’t a cop and Benitez has an army of lawyers.”

  Cody nodded. “My brother knew something.”

  “Your brother was an addict.” What the hell had Connor known? He’d been killed as a warning to the father. Hadn’t he? “You’re stirring up trouble for yourself.”