Journey to Cash Page 4

  “Maybe she was scared. You said she looked really bad.”

  I took a sip of beer and sat with that hypothesis for a moment. “Like she was looking for comfort?”

  “Yeah. You two kind of built that habit. Even if you’re doing well, having someone try to kill you with their bare hands would mess you up. Maybe she just wanted to feel safe.”

  “That is not helpful.”

  “Why not? I just solved it. I’m a genius.”

  “Yeah, but in a way that makes me want to heal her and also really fucking pisses me off because she gave up that right. And why do I give a shit? She’s a dick. So I’m pissed at myself in addition to being pissed at her.”

  “So I guess that answers my other question.”

  “Which one?”

  “Are you still in love with her.”

  “No,” I said.

  “And it’s an obvious yes.”

  “How the hell did you reach that conclusion?”

  “Because it takes a lot to genuinely piss you off.”

  “It does not. Hair trigger here.” I pointed at myself.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m still in love with her.” I sounded petulant as fuck, which was very annoying.

  “You can be mad at her and still in love with her. Love is a complicated emotion.”

  “Super. Thanks for that.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m just offering brilliant insight. I can’t help it if you don’t like it,” she said.

  “It must be difficult to be so brilliant.”

  “It’s no walk in the park. I can tell you that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That was an eye roll. In case you missed it.”

  “Oh, I caught it,” Robin said.

  “Hey, Cash,” Andy yelled.

  “Oh, thank God.” I yelled back, “What’s up, tiger?”

  “Can you grab the WD-40?”

  “You got it.” I went inside. I was reasonably certain I had WD-40 under the sink. I pushed the curtain to the side. It was dark. I really needed to install a light of some sort. I turned on the flashlight on my phone. The blue can stood out among the various other chemicals stacked behind the barrier I’d made to keep Nickels out.

  Back outside, Andy’s Vans had shifted about forty-five degrees to the right. As I approached, there was a clunk as someone dropped a bolt into the container they were using.

  “See? I told you to use torque,” Lane said.

  “Yes, yes. You’re very smart and good at the science,” Nate said.

  “Don’t you have a PhD in science?” Andy asked.

  “Yep. PhD in science. The school said, ‘Don’t you want to narrow your focus?’ And I said, ‘No thanks. I’m studying all of the science.’”

  “Hey, Andy.” I held the can low so she could see it. “I got you a present.”

  She scooted out to grab the can. “Thanks, dude.”

  “Happy to help.” I went back up to the deck and dropped into the Adirondack next to Robin.

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought and I think I’ve arrived at the proper solution.”

  “Robin, are you letting me believe that you have some solution to the conundrum of my mother reappearing after twenty-three years or my ex-girlfriend showing up or my old business partner trying to kill me, but then all you’re going to say is like nachos?”

  “No.” She huffed. “I was going to say tacos.”

  I laughed. “Did I steal your thunder?”

  “Yes. Ya jerk.”

  “Tacos sound great. Are we making them or ordering them?”

  “Making. I’m proud that Anderson is so invested in her truck, but I can be proud without watching the entire process.”

  “Excellent.”

  “What are the chances you have all the ingredients for tacos in your fridge?” Robin asked.

  “Well, last time I looked I had a wedge of Parmesan, a case of beer, approximately four dark chocolate bars, and an apple, singular.”

  “So, high chances?”

  “Definitely.”

  “That’s more stocked than your fridge usually is.”

  “The cheese, chocolate, and apple are all Lane’s.”

  “Ah, yes. That makes more sense.”

  “Do you think Nate will go to the store for us?” I asked.

  Robin shrugged. “It’s worth asking.”

  “Hey, Nate,” I yelled.

  “Just a sec,” he yelled back. After a minute, he rolled out. He had a very charming streak of grime from his jaw to right below his eye. He came up the deck and leaned against the railing. “What’s up?”

  “We’re going to make tacos,” Robin said.

  “Love that.”

  “But we are missing a few ingredients,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrow. “And you two can’t drive.”

  “We cannot,” Robin said.

  “So you want me to drive you?”

  “Or just go for us?” Robin stuck out her bottom lip in a pitiful manner.

  “You know charming me isn’t going to work. Why are you trying?”

  “I don’t know.” Robin grinned. “I thought it was worth a shot.”

  “Fine. What do you need?”

  “Tortillas. The little street taco ones. Chicken, cilantro, onion, lime,” she said.

  “Cotija.” I turned to Robin. “Should we do peppers and onions too?”

  “Oh, yeah. Green and red bell pepper. Black beans to add to the peppers. Tortilla chips.”

  “More beer.” I liked to remember the important things in life.

  “Salsa,” Robin said. “Do we want to make guacamole too?”

  “Heck yes we need guacamole.”

  “Avocado. More onion and lime.”

  Nate shook his head. “I thought you said a few ingredients?”

  “Yeah. That’s like less than fifteen. So you can still go through the express lane,” I said.

  “Are there any ingredients you currently have?” Nate asked.

  “Hot sauce,” Robin said confidently.

  “And?”

  “And I think we’ve got four varieties?” She sounded less confident on that one.

  “Wow. Okay. Would you care to write this down for me?”

  Robin rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go with you.” I looked at her in question. “What? I can be nice.”

  “What do you want from the store that you think I won’t approve of?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Smooth, lady. Real smooth.” I winked.

  “I’ll make sure she doesn’t buy more ice cream than will fit in the freezer,” Nate said.

  Robin looked scandalized. “Cash Braddock, I tell you my secrets and you share them with him?”

  Nate offered his hand to help Robin up. “If that’s your shameful secret, you’re doing just fine.”

  ✥ ✥ ✥

  Andy took a bite of street taco and leaned back against the railing. Her legs were stretched across the full width of the step she was sitting on. “You guys are the best.”

  I saluted her with my own taco. “We know.”

  “So how are things going with Gracie-Ray?” Robin asked, ever the indulgent mother.

  Andy pointed at Lane to answer, her cheeks puffed with the remaining half of her taco.

  “Great. We’ve got the old base removed. Next we’re going to put in the wood to make sure everything is square before staining and varnishing,” Lane said

  “Ha! I knew we had to stain and varnish,” Nate shouted.

  “But you still don’t know the difference between oak and pine.”

  “It’s a trick question. They’re both wood. There’s no difference.” Nate triumphantly held up his beer.

  “Seriously?” Robin asked.

  “What? Like you all know the difference?”

  “Pine’s faster burning, like kindling. Oak is slow burning,” Robin said.

  “The hardness,” I said.

  “Pine’s soft. Oak’s hard,” Andy said.

  “Screw you guys.” Nate ate an entire taco in one bite in what I imagined was protest of our assholery.

  Lane laughed.

  I almost felt bad for mocking him. “In his defense, he grew up in Arizona and New Mexico. I’m guessing they didn’t have a fire going all winter.”

  “It’s still common sense,” Lane said.

  “I’m going to have to agree with Lane. We never had a fire when I was a kid and I still know the difference,” Andy said.

  Nate shook his head. “But you’re a lesbian. Lesbians have knowledge.”

  “That was a broad generalization, but it benefits my people so I’m going to agree,” I said.

  “Thank you.” Nate pointed at the guacamole. “Now pass me the guac.”

  Chapter Five

  The squad room at Sacramento PD looked exactly like it had the last time I’d been there. It smelled the same. It sounded the same. Without realizing I was doing it, I looked for Laurel at her desk, but it wasn’t her desk anymore. Duarte grinned at me instead. He hopped up and crossed the room to me. He’d graduated to button-ups that fit him properly. His tie was perfectly knotted with a tie pin holding it in place. When he got closer, I realized the pin was a tiny little octopus, which seemed like a very Duarte choice.

  “Hey, Cash. You want a cup of coffee or water or anything?”

  “I’m good, but thanks.”

  “Cool. You guys are in conference room B.” He pointed to one of the doors that lined the wall.

  “There’s a conference room B?”

  Duarte laughed. “We have labels on the conference rooms and interview rooms now. It’s all very fancy.”

  “Sounds like.”

  I found the correct conference room and g
lanced back at Duarte. He nodded and waved me inside. I walked in and found Laurel sitting at the table alone. Nothing says Monday morning like a bright and early meeting with your ex at a police station.

  She seemed as surprised to see me as I was her, which was silly considering we had been called in for a meeting together. I just thought I’d have more time to prepare. As if ten more minutes could have made me ready.

  She was wearing chinos and a T-shirt with canvas shoes. There was nothing exceptional about the outfit, but that made it all the more exquisite. Her pants were cuffed above her ankle. Her T-shirt clung to the lines of muscle in her back and shoulders. The bandage I’d noticed before was visible at the edge of her collar.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey.” I sat three seats down from her, but I could still smell cedar and salt. This was going to be torture.

  “I’m sorry I ambushed you before. That wasn’t cool.”

  I shrugged and stared at the table. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not. I should have waited and let Reyes tell you.”

  “Why did you, then?”

  “I wanted—” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Well, that pissed me right off. I turned to look at her. The bruising around her eyes and along her jaw had gotten darker. “You talked to Lane before showing up. Why not ask her if I was okay?”

  “I needed to see you. I knew I wouldn’t be able to trust hearing it.”

  “No, you wanted to make yourself feel better. You were feeling shitty and vulnerable and you came to me for comfort.”

  “That’s not—”

  But I didn’t get to find out what she was going to deny because Reyes walked in.

  “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” He set a file on the table and sat across from us. “The FBI lab was able to get into Brewer’s phone. We’re still processing all the info, but it’s clear that he is exclusively interested in you.”

  “As in me or as in the two of us?” Laurel asked.

  “The two of you. There was nothing to indicate that Xiao or any of your family members are in danger.”

  “That’s good,” I said.

  “It is, but the notes and photos we recovered suggest a deep fixation.” He placed a hand on the closed file in front of him. “He has been stalking the two of you for months. Brewer wants to kill you. He’s been unsuccessful, but I’m certain he will try again.”

  “So what?” I asked. “He’s not the only person who wants to kill us. We both have our fair share of enemies.”

  Reyes shook his head. “The depth of his obsession is pathological. An FBI profiler is working up an analysis right now, but it doesn’t take a psychologist to know that he is completely unhinged.” He made meaningful eye contact with Laurel, then me. “I’m scared for you.”

  “Did the phone give any insight into where he’s been living?” Laurel asked.

  “Nothing yet.”

  “So we just wait until you arrest him or he kills one of us? Solid plan. Love it,” I said.

  “I’ve asked Michelson to put the two of you in a safe house where you’ll have twenty-four seven protection,” Reyes said.

  I laughed. Laurel laughed. Oh, good. Common ground.

  “I’m not hiding. I can help you find him. I’m your best chance,” Laurel said.

  “Absolutely not. We don’t use people as bait,” Reyes said.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not getting locked in some random safe house in some random location for who knows how long,” I said.

  Laurel rolled her eyes. “They would put us in a hotel or a condo. It’s not like they would ship us off to a black site.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you advocating for this now?” I asked.

  “No, I’m just saying there’s no CIA bunker to sequester us in.”

  “So your issue is the assumption of a bunker, but sequestering is fine?” I was being a petty asshole. I knew it and I didn’t care.

  “Hey.” Reyes snapped his fingers at us several times so we would look at him. It was like we were five-year-olds. “We don’t have time for this. I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s the best way to guarantee your safety. An officer will escort each of you home to pack a bag.” He stood. “We will meet back here in two hours.”

  “No, I’m not going,” Laurel said. She stared Reyes down.

  “We’re not using you to draw him out. It’s just not going to fucking happen,” Reyes said.

  Laurel stood and squared her shoulders. “Okay. Don’t include me in the investigation. But I’m not going to a safe house. You can recommend it, but you can’t force me.”

  “I’m not going either,” I said.

  Laurel groaned. “God, you’re stubborn.”

  “Seriously? So it’s okay for you to skip on a safe house, but I have to go? That’s absurd and you know it.” I crossed my arms. They were both towering over me, but I didn’t care.

  “Let us protect you.” Reyes shifted to speak directly to Laurel. “I can’t investigate this if I’m worrying about you.”

  Laurel smirked and shook her head. “You’ll do just fine. You’re perfectly capable of investigating while worrying. This is hardly the first time I’ve had my ass kicked.”

  “This wasn’t some basic ass kicking.” Reyes waved his hand up and down. “He strangled you. He stabbed you. Twice.”

  He stabbed her? She neglected to mention that detail.

  “I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t go to a safe house. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

  “I am not. This dude is batshit and he’s basically writing fan fiction about murdering you,” Reyes yelled.

  Laurel laughed cruelly. “Do you hear yourself?”

  “Yes, I do. And I know how this sounds. But his notes are terrifying.” He held up the case file and shook it. It was very dramatic. “This guy is a trained law enforcement officer with a stockpile of weapons and equipment and a psychotic fixation on my best friend who hasn’t called me in three goddamn months.”

  Laurel and I stared at Reyes, waiting to see if his diatribe would continue. Or that’s what I was doing. She looked like she was processing.

  “I’m sorry,” Laurel said.

  “No, you don’t get to do that. Don’t patronize me.”

  “I’m not. I really am sorry.” Laurel looked at me, then back at Reyes. She sat back down. “I handled leaving all wrong and I hurt just about everyone I could hurt. And by the time I figured it out, I was too ashamed to come back.”

  “Dammit, Kallen.” Reyes came around the table and hugged her.

  I stood. “Well, this has been enlightening, but I’m going to take off. Let me know when you catch Henry.”

  “Hold up.” Reyes let go of Laurel. “It’s not safe for you.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever, man. It’s your fault he is in the wind. I did my part.”

  “How is it his fault?” Laurel asked.

  “All the Sac PD officers are at fault. If you guys didn’t have such a bullshit toxic culture, maybe someone would have listened to me the night you arrested me and Henry got away. Anyone who participates in and benefits from that culture and doesn’t fight against it is at fault for it.”

  “Christ, I forgot how obnoxious you are,” Reyes said.

  I forced a grin. “Yeah, it’s annoying to have someone point out systemic power structures.”

  Reyes took a deep breath. “Can you just cool it for a minute? Your self-righteous anger isn’t going to protect you. When Brewer comes after you, explaining that it’s my fault isn’t going to stop him.”

  “You’re not wrong,” I said.

  “So let me keep you two safe.” He turned around to look at Laurel. “Please. We will wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

  “I’m sorry. I still can’t do it,” Laurel said.

  “Neither can I. I just opened an art gallery. I have to be there. Plus, there’s a lot going on in my life. I can’t just dip out.” I tried to keep my tone even and non-confrontational. I was mildly successful.

  “Let’s compromise, then,” Laurel said. She slugged Reyes in the shoulder. “Everything will be okay. You can keep the patrols outside our residences. Hell, you can assign us bodyguards if you have the resources.”

  “You know damn well that we don’t,” he said.

  “Whatever. Monitor us however you see fit. If Henry escalates in any way, we can revisit the discussion. Cool?”

  “Cool,” I said.

  “Okay. But any escalation and I’m locking you in a room,” Reyes said.