by Anny Cook
Seb frowned as he digested her explanation. “Why? In my experience officers in small rural departments follow the lead of their boss.”
“In this part of the country, that doesn’t necessarily follow.”
“Then why keep him on the force?” Seb demanded in disgust.
Zip looked over her shoulder before moving into the fast lane to pass an old clunker that was spewing out oily smoke. “Most likely, he’s stuck with him. Maybe he’s the mayor’s son. Maybe he’s the nephew of someone who has clout in that town or county. Delray Cannon is a screw-up that he’s stuck with so he does the best he can with the situation and tries to minimize the damage.” She flicked the turn signal and moved back into the right lane. “In any case, he’ll do whatever he has to do to get through life until Delray hangs himself by doing something so far out no one can cover for him.”
“That is whacked.”
“Yeah, it is. But it’s not as bad as it would be if the screw-up was in the sheriff’s position like our county. Then you have a county in real trouble. The only thing keeping Sheriff Sadler in check is his fear of Pa. As long as the good guys are in charge, then you deal with the idiots the best you can.”
“Thank you for stepping in and defusing the situation. It pisses me off when bigots like that are in power.”
“It pisses me off when people judge others because of color or appearance or sex.”
* * * * *
Two days later, when Quill dropped him off at his home, Seb was torn between anger and disgust. Zip had called it right on the money. When Quill stopped long enough for him to sign his statement for Sheriff Kemp, they’d both been embarrassed when the sheriff stiffly apologized for Delray’s behavior.
Quill parked in front of his small house and Seb knew he should invite his partner in for a cup of coffee or a beer but he just wanted to be alone. He needed to be alone to come to terms with the unsavory experience. Impatiently he growled, “Thanks! Talk to you later!” slammed the door and pounded up the steps to his front door where a note from his brother Nate was stuck to the small window pane.
Seb,
Call Mama when you get back!
Nate
Stomach churning, Seb unlocked the door and went in, dumping his bag on the floor next to the couch. He grabbed the phone and punched in the numbers. “Mama?”
“Seb. Oh thank goodness you called. Sebbie, Georgie’s in the hospital. Someone beat that poor boy up.”
“Georgie? Our Georgie?” Seb trotted down the hall to the bedroom. If he was going to the hospital, he would need to change clothes.
“That’s what I’m telling you, Seb. Your nephew Georgie. He’s beat up terrible, son.” He could hear her voice trembling as she fought back tears.
“Okay, Mama. I’ll be right over.” He tossed the phone on the bed and grabbed his gray suit.
The phone rang the minute it bounced on the bed. Placing the suit on the bed, he grabbed the phone and went back for a shirt and tie while he answered.
“Seb?” He recognized his boss’s measured tones. Harry Langston was always calm and unhurried.
“Yes sir.”
“Quill said he just dropped you off at your home. You heard about your nephew?”
“Yes sir. I was just talking to my mama.”
“Well, we’re working with the locals on this. Michael Andrews will meet you at your mother’s house. Mike will liaison with the police but Georgie will probably be more comfortable talking to them if you’re there.”
As he selected a pale yellow shirt with a dark gray tie Seb thought about what his boss wasn’t saying. “Why were we called in?”
“Bias crime.”
Seb froze in the process of fetching socks and underwear from his dresser. “Race?”
“No.” Harry sighed in Seb’s ear. “Quill called in a report about your adventures the last couple days. I don’t see how this could be related to what happened to you and Zip but we’ve noted the details for the record. In Georgie’s case we’re pretty sure he was beaten because he’s gay.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. The sooner you meet Michael, the sooner we’ll have something to work with.” Harry’s tone didn’t leave any room for argument.
“As soon as I’ve changed clothes, I’ll be on my way.”
“Good enough.” Harry hung up. After calling a cab, Seb tossed the phone back on the bed and headed for the bathroom. A shower and shave was necessary now that he’d shifted from family member to working agent. Tiredly, he rubbed his face with one hand, brushing over the prickly whiskers. No rest for the wicked and the righteous don’t need it, he thought, recalling one of his mama’s favorite quotes. He’d best get on with his plans. Georgie was waiting.
An hour later, rage washed over him as he stood at Georgie’s bedside wondering what kind of weapons the assailants had used on his nephew. According to the physician on duty, Georgie probably had permanent vision loss in his left eye. There were cracked ribs, internal damage and bleeding and other assorted broken bones. A long line of stitches ran from the top of his head down below the front of his left ear.
Georgie stirred restlessly in his sleep. His good eye flickered open and landed on Seb. “Hey, man.” His voice was slurred from sleep and painkillers. “Grandma called you, huh?”
“Did you think she wouldn’t? What the hell happened, Georgie?”
Georgie’s eye flittered around, lit on Michael and then went to the open door. “Wrong place, wrong time.”
Without a word, Michael closed the door and turned the lock before going to the windows and closing the drapes. Then he went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the sink to mask the sound of Georgie’s voice. Seb turned on the TV, flicking through the channels until he settled on the low drone of a news channel.
Then both men waited patiently for Georgie to speak. It wasn’t easy. Clearly he was fighting bone-deep fear but finally he began to talk. “Wen’ to a party last week with Jo-Jo.” Seb’s spine stiffened in protest. “Yeah, yeah. I know you don’t like Jo-Jo. But he was s’posed to meet someone at the party and he didn’t want to go alone.”
“That should have been your first clue that you ought to stay away,” Seb said under his breath.
“Sorry.” The word was barely a thread of sound. Georgie took a couple of shallow breaths. “Never was as strong or smart as you, Uncle Seb.”
“Dammit, Geo. Tell us the rest.”
Georgie felt around in the bed, looking for the control. When his hands closed over it, he pressed the button to raise the head of the bed just a little. “Anyway, Jo-Jo met the man. I wasn’t paying too much attention ’cause I was nearly pissing in my pants. Later he told me the man was Carmine Giannola. But what scared the shit outta me was the man with him.”
“You recognized him?” Michael asked softly.
“Yeah. Don’t know his name. But he’s a Fed. He’s been hanging around that halfway house down the street from Grandma’s house, talking to some of the recent parolees. I warned Ms. MacLeish but she didn’t seem too worried about it.”
“Describe him,” Seb growled.
George uttered a soft snort. “He was a Fed. They all look alike, you know?”
Michael choked back a sharp laugh. “Well, try to remember something about him.”
“Heh. Blond hair, blue eyes. Looks like a Russian. Short and stocky and mean.”
Seb paced over to the door and back. “Did he do this?”
“Nah. This was a couple of Carmine’s knee breakers. They were yelling the same old shit about faggots and crap but this didn’t have anything to do with being gay.” He sighed. “I haven’t heard from Jo-Jo since then. I’m worried that they got to him. Jo-Jo is always looking for a new scheme. I’m afraid he picked the wrong partners.”
“We’ll check on him. Get some rest.” Seb went into the bathroom to turn the water off while Michael unlocked the door. What neither mentioned was Mercedes MacLeish’s death—or the fact that her last contact w
as a blond, blue-eyed agent of Russian descent.
Chapter Three
Four days later a small gray-brown dog sat patiently on Seb’s porch waiting for him to come home. After a while, the little Yorkie curled up in front of the door, resting her head on her front paws. In a dog’s life it seemed like there was a lot of waiting.
The sky darkened as the air grew chillier. A fine sleet began to fall. Shivering, the small dog pressed closer to the door, keeping watch. Her eyes brightened and she came to quivering attention as a cab pulled up in front of the house. A man opened the back door and climbed out. Slamming the door behind him, he hurried up the walk to the steps. The little Yorkie stood stiffly and yelped a sharp bark. The man halted, staring down in amazement at the dog, which waited, waggling its tail in welcome.
“Well. What have we here?” Seb bent down to scoop up the little dog. “Where did you come from?” He mounted the stairs, unlocked the door and carried his visitor inside. “It’s kinda cold out there for you, isn’t it?” he crooned as he snatched the afghan from the back of his couch and wrapped it around the shivering dog. He settled her on the end of the couch. “You stay right there while I hang up my coat.”
She cocked her head to one side, regarding him with shining black eyes. Then she gave a short yip before curling up contentedly in the soft blanket.
“So you’ve decided that you’ve found a sucker, eh?” Seb grinned reluctantly. “We’ll have to see about that. Somebody’s probably missing you about now.” He sighed. “I suppose I’d better post some notices tomorrow and check with the vet.” He turned away and went into the kitchen to locate the box of doggie things he’d put away when he lost his own dog the year before.
The dog snuggled contentedly in the soft blanket while Seb puttered around in the kitchen. Tomorrow—or the day after—would be soon enough to reveal the truth, she thought. Seb wasn’t gonna like it. No, not at all but the little dog knew that sometimes life didn’t go the way people thought it ought to happen.
Pa? I’m all set.
All right. Quill’s hopping mad at the moment. He thinks he should be there instead of you. She could hear the echo of laughter as Pentecost Jericho chuckled over Quill’s reaction. You be careful, Zip.
I will, Pa.
Resting her little chin on her paws, Zip contemplated the warm room. Seb was a neat freak. Unlike Zip, who was content with a slap, dash and promise when it came to housekeeping, Seb was of the a-place-for-everything-and-everything-in-its-place school. She sighed. Well, they would work it out eventually.
A strange scent wafted past her nose. Lifting her head, she sniffed as she turned her head from side to side. Human. No…two humans. She wiggled free of the blanket’s folds and jumped down from the couch, trotting purposefully to and fro until she located the strongest scent under the end table. Every nerve quivering, she worked her small body in close until her bright black eyes spied the tiny little receiver.
Backing hastily away, she began a systematic search through the house. By the time she’d located the third bug, it was evident to her that Seb’s home was well and truly covered. Seb’s boss’s instincts were working full-time. Zip ran from room to room as she worked out the logistics in her head. When Harry Langston had called her pa and asked for help, he’d only had a vague feeling that Seb was in danger. But the bugs indicated there was a much bigger operation in place than any of them had dreamed.
This wasn’t something that she could handle on her own and definitely wasn’t something that her particular talents were suited for. With a deep sigh, she sidled down the hall, her tiny claws clicking on the wooden floor as she went in search of Seb while she reported in to her pa.
Pa, we have bigger troubles than we thought. Seb’s house is bugged from top to bottom.
Her abrupt communication startled Pentecost. His children had always been polite, always using the equivalent of a mental knock before launching into a conversation. Clearly Zip was agitated.
Calm down.
There isn’t any room, not even the bathroom, where I could change and explain what I am without one of the receivers picking it up. This is almost overkill. And I’m not even sure that his cell phone isn’t bugged. It has the same scent as the other bugs.
All right. Stay as you are. I’ll call Harry.
Seb was whistling when she trotted into the kitchen. “Well, there you are. I guess you decided that food was more important than heat, eh? I only found one can of dog food though I could swear that I had three left.”
She barked sharply, watching his face as he opened the can and dumped the food on a saucer. Hungry, she had to admit that it smelled pretty good. Her nose quivered in anticipation as Seb set the saucer on the floor next to the pantry door. While she daintily snapped up the bits of beef and gravy, she kept one ear on his rumbling voice.
“I called the vet and left a message on their machine. I suppose I’ll have to buy some more food if no one claims you.” He set his own plate on the table and pulled out a chair. “Not that I wouldn’t like to keep you but there’s so much going on right now that I’m not sure I have time to take care of a little beauty like you.”
The two ate in companionable silence. Suddenly Seb declared, “Beauty! That’s what I’ll call you.”
She wagged her stubby tail and yipped at him.
“You like that, huh? Okay, okay. Come here.” As she danced around at his feet, he cleared the table, loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and then scooped her up from the floor, heading for the living room. His phone rang as he stopped to switch on the TV.
“Hello.”
“Seb, I need you to toss some things in a duffle and meet me at the tavern around the corner from your house in twenty minutes. I have an emergency assignment for you.”
Seb frowned and held the phone away from his ear. How many damn emergency assignments could there be? He wasn’t the only damn agent in the FBI! He held the receiver to his ear. “I have a dog now! I can’t just take off without making arrangements!”
“Bring the dog with you. Don’t you have a carrier? I’ll arrange to board the dog while you’re gone.” Harry Langston’s voice told Seb a lot of things that he wasn’t verbalizing. The proposed assignment really was an emergency. And somewhere, somehow somebody’s assignment had gone to shit.
Blowing out a deep breath, he asked, “What kind of clothing?”
“Casual and comfortable.”
“All right. Twenty minutes.” Tossing the receiver back in the cradle, Seb carried the little dog down the hall to the bedroom. “Okay. So here’s the deal, Beauty. I have to go on an assignment. So you’ll have to stay at the boarder’s until I get back. Then we’ll be together, right?” He set her on the bed while he pulled his duffle out and swiftly repacked it.
Bright-eyed, she cocked her head and watched him retrieve his black leather Dopp kit from the bathroom. He dropped it in the duffle, then opened the drawer on the nightstand and removed a box of condoms. Tossing them in the duffle, he pursed his lips in a faint smile. “I know, I know. You think I’m optimistic. But I figure this emergency assignment is good for a couple days off when I finish. If I can wangle it, I’m going to see if we can’t spend a couple days with my woman. You’ll like her. And let me tell you, it always pays to be prepared!”
After zipping the duffle closed, he went out in the hall. Zip bounced on the bed and barked. Seb reappeared with a soft-sided carrier. “I’m coming.” He unzipped the carrier, removed a small sweater and slipped it over her wiggling body before lifting her into the carrier and zipping it shut. “Okay. That’s it, Beauty. We’re off to see what’s so damn important that I have to go out in the damp and cold night.”
Seb zipped up his coat, slipped a knitted cap over his head and opened the door. In the meager yellow light from the porch lamp he could see the icy sleet, hissing as it fell, coating the porch and steps with a shiny glaze. Irritably, he set his duffle and the dog carrier on the porch and shut and locked the door before yanking on hi
s leather gloves. Whatever had gone wrong, it better be damn important. Hoisting the dog carrier and duffle in one hand, he clung to the handrail with the other, slipping and sliding until he reached the sidewalk. Immediately, he stepped into the grass. It crunched underfoot as he walked down the block, pausing each time he had to negotiate another stretch of slick concrete. By the time he reached the tavern, he was well and truly pissed off.
Relieved that he’d completed the trip without falling on his ass, he pushed the door open. A horn beeped behind him and a voice called his name. “Seb! Over here!” He turned, peering through the icy storm.
He didn’t recognize the car. Hesitation in the dim light saved his life. A soft cough followed immediately by the sting of flying plaster and he was stumbling backward through the door. As he crouched in the tiny lobby of the tavern, he heard the squeal of tires and the race of the engine.
What the fuck is going on? His thoughts raced back to Georgie and the story he’d shared with them earlier in the week. True to his promise, they’d searched for Jo-Jo but he’d dropped off the radar. Greg was in the clear though. He had a cast-iron alibi for the night of the party. He was at the hospital assisting in the delivery of his son with a host of witnesses. Now they were carefully sifting through personnel records for another possibility.
Hunched over, Seb backed through the inner door, dragging his duffle and the dog carrier. Everyone in the tavern turned to look at him with varying expressions of surprise and curiosity. “Someone just shot at me.” He carted his belongings to the other end of the bar in the silence that fell over the room. Except for the football game playing on the television over the bar, it was quiet.
Then Killer, the bartender, picked up his phone. Seb just shook his head at him. “They’re gone. And someone is coming to pick me up.” He set the dog carrier on the bar and unzipped the top enough for Zip to poke her head out.