Blood Noir - Laurell K. Hamilton [22]
“And he got beat up for it?” I said.
“He did.”
“Very karmic,” I said.
Jason nodded, actually looking happy. We had our bags on the tarmac and the pilot was asking for a return schedule when we were joined by a man who, though well dressed in a nice conservative suit, had thug tattooed across his forehead. Metaphorically speaking.
The suit was tailored well enough that if I hadn’t been looking for it I might have missed the bulge on his hip. But I was looking, and I knew a gun when I saw it ruin the line of a suit. The Browning did not ruin the line of my suit jacket. For such a big gun it was strangely invisible under my little jacket in its new sideways holster.
I actually moved in front of Jason. Just automatic. After all, I was packing a gun, and he wasn’t. The conservative thug didn’t even look at me. He had attention only for Jason.
“The girl gets back on the plane.”
“The girl has a name,” I said.
“What I don’t know, I can’t lie about. Please, Keith, don’t do this.”
“I am not Keith Summerland. Do I have to prove it?”
“Keith, stuff like this isn’t funny anymore.”
“Do you want to see my driver’s license?”
The man finally looked puzzled. “What?”
“Call up the governor, or his wife, or even Kelsey, tell them that Jason Schuyler is just trying to visit his family, and you won’t let us leave the airport.”
The muscleman looked at Jason. “Keith, I thought this kind of shit was over.”
Jason got out his wallet and flashed his ID. “I got confused with them both in high school, too.”
The man looked at the ID, like he was really studying it. He looked at Jason, then got a small flip phone out of his outer jacket pocket. “This is Chuck, I’d swear it’s Keith, but I’m looking at an ID for a Jason Schuyler.” He said uh-huh a lot, then closed the phone and handed Jason his ID back. “I’m sorry about this, Mr. Schuyler. The governor says he’s very sorry about your father’s illness.”
“Yeah, my father is dying of cancer, and instead of being able to see him in peace, I’m going to get stopped by every piece of media from here to the hospital. Jesus, if I’d known about the wedding I might have held off a week.”
I touched his arm. “You couldn’t have done that.”
“I know,” Jason said, “what if he died this week?” I think he tried to make it a joke, but it fell flat and bitter.
“I am truly sorry about the misunderstanding, Mr. Schuyler. We have limos waiting for the guests to arrive; if we can drop you anywhere to make up for the difficulties, just say the word. The limos have dark glass, and we’ve had lots of the bride’s friends arriving. The media has stopped hounding the limos, because the interviews all sound the same.”
“And if I take a taxi they’ll wonder why Keith is with a brunette that isn’t his fiancée, and why he’s not in a limo,” Jason said.
Chuck shrugged massive shoulders. “That did occur to the governor.”
“Fine, drop us at the hotel.”
“But won’t us getting out of a Summerland limo sort of add to the confusion?” I asked.
Chuck looked perplexed, as if I was forcing him to think about things that weren’t usually his business. He’d been perfectly comfortable shoving me back on the plane. Forcing Keith to be a good boy. But figuring out what to do with an identical cousin who wasn’t close enough to be included in the wedding, that was beyond him.
“We’ll take the limo, and get a taxi to the hospital. I don’t know what else to do,” Jason said.
“I’ll call the press secretary from the limo,” Chuck said. “You guys look enough alike that it could be a real problem. If the media think you’re Keith and are cheating with this chiquita here, it’ll get ugly.”
“You’ve called me girl, now chiquita. Chuck, you are not winning brownie points with me.”
He gave me a look that clearly said he didn’t give a damn, and who was I to complain?
“This is Anita Blake; she’s my very close friend, Chuck.”
“Girlfriend?” He made it a question.
Jason nodded. “I’m bringing her home to see my dad before he dies, that put it in perspective?” Jason squeezed my hand as if