The Hands

Home > Other > The Hands > Page 44


  Miles attention was suddenly snared by Gil’s quietness. How come he hadn’t reacted to the strange demand? What had he been going to tell him earlier? Judging by the sudden blush that covered Gil’s face, he knew who these people were and what the man was talking about. Fuck. Miles took a deep breath. From the looks of things Gil’s new boyfriend was involved somehow. There was no-one else who would make Gil forget even for a second where his duty lay. Were Gil and Lyle really that involved already? “So, what are you proposing? All I know is that Flynn’s future here may depend on his ability to keep his identity quiet. What about the EMT team that picked Flynn up? The hospital at Asher Bay and the local police? Surely you can’t just hush this thing up?”

  “Miles, Flynn isn’t the only one who has a future to protect,” Gil said gently. “If we’re lucky, all the EMTs saw was Vale’s dead body being used as a foot rest. The only damage was to his eye. Did they bother with him? Flynn was the emergency, not Vale.”

  The visual of what had happened in the room downstairs flashed through his brain as Miles stared at the Federal Agent. The man was studying him like he was some sort of insect and he was wondering which wing to pull off first. ”True, he had his head down near his knees, so the EMT guys may not have seen the pen. They might wonder why we’d been so disrespectful to his body though, and what about Aiden? He might have told them the truth already?”

  “Someone already met the helicopter.”

  Miles narrowed his eyes and glanced from Gil to the man. If he’d needed any confirmation that Lyle was involved somehow, that was enough. Apart from making the 911 call, the only person Gil had contacted was his boyfriend. How else could they have got someone to Asher Bay that quickly?

  “Miles, just do it.” Gil was suddenly seeing the wider implications of the agent’s words. While he hated asking Miles to go against his better judgement, the ramifications might be more than either of them could handle.

  “There really is much more to this situation than I’m willing to divulge to you, gentlemen. I know your mother explained to you the meaning of the word Bratva earlier today, Mr. Gillespie...”

  Gil shouldn’t be surprised at what this man knew by now, but the sense of being watched was uncomfortable to say the least. Lyle hadn’t specified what was going on, other than it wasn’t illegal.

  Shit. Just what he needed. Miles glared back at the Agent. His veiled threats and hints were pissing him off. “I have a proposal to make.” He glanced sideways at Gil. The poor guy looked sick. “We know that Vale was mixed up in something shady. There’s a good chance that Flynn’s actions might precipitate retaliation against him and anyone else who might have got caught up in this mess. If I do what you say... sign a false death certificate... can you hide what happened here and Flynn’s identity so we don’t get any nasty men in black suits and dark glasses turning up to zap us with a raygun?”

  “I can’t give any promises about rayguns, but my colleagues and I will make sure you and your friends stay as safe as is humanly possible. After all, that’s our job.” Breslaw laughed gently. He actually respected the fight the Doctor had put up. He’d been about to suggest they get their own ME to write the death certificate, to get the man off his moral hook. This way would be quicker though.

  “Well, if there’s no rayguns, that means our memories will still be intact. I’m not happy with what you’re proposing, but I’ve been around and seen what can happen when reprisal killings just go on and on.” Memories of his time in Somalia and the warlords threatened to swamp Miles for a moment, maybe a raygun there would have helped. “Just make sure you keep your side of the bargain.”

  “Innocent people tend to get caught in the crossfire,” Gil said quietly, then fell silent again.

  “The background causes of all this need dealing with, until then none of you can be utterly guaranteed safe, but you know from what I’ve already said that you are not going to be alone and that you’re on the side of the angels.”

  "As long as we don’t end up with the Angels..." Gil muttered.

  Miles studied the man for a few seconds. The Agent’s soft brown eyes shone with sincerity as he explained the limitations of their arrangement. Now Miles wasn’t instinctively reacting to the attitude, he could see the man and not the position he held. He still didn’t know his name, but somehow he knew the Agent wasn’t lying. He stuck out his hand.

  Breslaw was relieved. He took the doctor’s hand and shook it. “Deal.”

  Miles didn’t let go straight away. The man’s clasp was firm and dry. He wasn’t trying to impress him with his strength, but Miles was impressed anyway. “You’ll make sure Flynn and Aiden are alright?”

  A woman’s voice startled all of them. “They will be as alright as we can make them. Flynn is in a coma, Doctor. We can’t influence how that goes for him, though maybe you can.”

  Miles dropped the Agent’s hand as if it was suddenly on fire. He turned to the new arrival, Roofie had reacted as soon as she walked out the door. Maybe he didn’t like her perfume? It wasn’t one that appealed to Miles that’s for sure, he much preferred Gil’s after-shave. “What are you implying, Ma’am?”

  “Agent Tyler isn’t implying anything, Doctor, except that you are the healer, not us. If your friend is in a coma, which it seems he is, that’s in the hands of physicians and of God.” Breslaw glared at his companion, the message clear that she was surplus to requirements right now.

  “I think we already influenced how that goes for Flynn. We did our job.” Gil’s voice was suddenly cold. “I have a question though, Ma’am, one you won’t like.” He kept his voice low, he wasn’t completely sure it was such a good idea to be talking out here, but on balance inside might be worse.

  “You can ask, Mr. Gillespie. I may not be able to answer you, though.”

  “This is quite simple. I gather you two have... a certain person’s interests at heart?” He glanced at Breslaw and saw in the man’s eyes that he understood. “I’m having a hard time seeing how this job could be considered even close to that certain person’s best interests. After all, promotion seems to have been a bit dodgy. I hope you know how that happened here, because if you don’t, it casts a little doubt on your ability to make sure we’re kept safe, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I have given you my word, Mr. Gillespie, as Lead Agent on this current case.” There was no mistaking who Breslaw was laying the blame for that cock-up on, then, even though Tyler failed to acknowledge the irritation in his gaze as it swept over her.

  Gil couldn’t keep the vehemence out of his voice. “So, Mr. Lead Agent, how could you not know that Vale was up to his eyeballs in so much shit?”

  Miles laughed. “Up to his eyeballs... good one Gil.” Roofie turned and snarled. Miles glanced in the direction his dog was facing. Apart from the female agent, there was no-one there, or was there? Was that a dark shape moving or just the wind blowing the bushes? Had someone overheard their conversation?

  ”Gentlemen, I suggest you and your fine animals get off home now." Successfully avoiding Gil’s question, Breslaw’s eyes were restlessly roving over the area, taking in the details. "Agent Tyler will give you a ride in my car. I’ll be in touch again soon.” The agent was already moving off into the darkness as he spoke.

  “Thanks, but no thanks. We’ll walk.” Miles wasn’t sure that Roofie couldn’t be restrained from taking a bite out of the female agent’s leg. Nope, he definitely didn’t like her perfume.

  Agent Breslaw was already gone. “Your choice, but we can only protect you when you let us, gentlemen. Safe trip home then.” The woman turned back towards the funeral home. Obviously her night wasn’t over yet. Both dogs voiced their loathing for her as she went, sensing her disrespect for their humans.

  “I agree, mate.” Gil murmured to them, petting Dante. “Come on, Miles, let’s get you home. The dogs and I will protect you.” He regarded the doctor’s half-dressed state with amusement. “It’s getting chilly out here. We don’t need more than one s
tiff tonight...”

 

 

 


‹ Prev