“You haven’t changed your lock since Gina? You have freezer money?”
“Can it with the twenty questions. Grab the baggie full of it. Get a car and get down here fast.”
“What happened?”
“It’s...uh...I’ll explain it when you get here. Just fuckin’ get here. And don’t tell anyone what’s going on. I mean it.”
At that the call ended, leaving Kieran staring at the phone, heart in his throat. A call to Antony came next with a quick overview of the situation sans the word jail as he arranged to meet at the brewery to exchange cars since Anton’s brewery van always needed repair.
“Hey, uh, Daddy,” Kieran called down the steps. “Antony wants me to meet him with your van. Says he got some part in or somethin’?”
“Your daddy’s sound asleep. Go on. I’ll tell him.”
“Okay, but….”
“Did you get ahold of Dom?”
Kieran winced, unprepared for the lie he had to tell and thankful he didn’t have to face her to say it. He’d never mastered the art of the bald-faced whopper to his parents like his siblings had.
“Yeah. Listen, I think I’m gonna go down there, you know, to the, uh, conference...thing? Spend some time away, some time with, um...my brother. I think he could use it.”
The silence stretched out. Kieran’s skin crawled with anxiety. When he spotted his mother in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest, his mouth went dry.
“Is there something I need to know?”
“I’m pretty confident that is not the case.” At least he didn’t have to lie.
She took a long, deep breath. “All right then. I trust you. You’ll take care of him for me?”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll do that. I promise.” He gave her a tight hug, marveling at how much like a baby bird she felt. Snagging the van keys, he did a quick mental calculation of how many hours of driving he had ahead of him.
Dom’s apartment keys resided in the drawer and were indeed labeled with the name of the girl who’d been swollen with Dominic’s baby by the time she bailed for New York. He grabbed the Ziploc bag of cash tucked under the ice and was on the road forty-five minutes after the phone call, a duffel bag with a change of clothes and a toothbrush tossed into the jump seat of Antony’s oldest pickup truck.
After getting snarled in construction traffic at Chattanooga and stopping to refill his bottle of Tylenol and oil for the overheated engine, he finally pulled into the run-down police station parking lot that matched the address Dom had sent him. His whole body ached from skull to bum leg, but he tried not to limp as he walked in and asked to have Dominic Sean Love released.
The cop at the desk observed him, his gaze full of malice that Kieran didn’t comprehend, before motioning for some other cop to join him and together they gave him the top-to-toe once over.
“Is there a problem officer,” he asked, his jaw clenched.
“Nope,” they said in unison, and pointed him down a hall to another door. After nearly an hour and a half waiting around, sipping the dreck they called coffee and fighting sleep, he was about to start bitching when a door opened and his brother stumbled through it as if pushed hard from behind.
Trying not to react to the sight of Dom’s face, knowing it wouldn’t help since he probably realized how awful he appeared, Kieran flinched when a vicious-sounding voice barked his brother’s name from a window nearby. Dom motioned for Kieran to join him. They waited together for the woman to finish whatever paperwork she huddled over.
A horrific stench rose from the other man’s skin. Vomit and stale booze mixed with blood and body odor filled Kieran’s nose forcing him to take shallow breaths. The woman pushed some papers under the bulletproof glass that separated them. Dominic nudged Kieran’s side.
“The money?”
“Oh, right, here. Sorry.” He handed over the baggie and Dom counted out five thousand dollars in hundreds. “Uh, why are we doing this here? Isn’t there a bail-bond place?”
“This is done here,” the woman barked. Taking the money, she counted out the cash in front of them, handed Dom a receipt then swiveled around to pin him with an evil smile. “Next time you want to go butt fucking some Atlanta boys, ya perv, better do your research. We’ve snagged more turd burglars from that nasty club than there are hairs on your pretty fairy head. Now beat it. And don’t miss your hearing. Or else.” She ogled Kieran. “Oh, he’s cute. Nice work, faggot.” Then she slammed the window down so hard they both jumped.
Kieran focused on the scarred wood behind the thick Plexiglas, his mind wrapping itself around what he’d just heard.