Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [102]
“Nothing besides ice fishing.”
“What?”
“I went ice fishing.”
“You don’t ice fish.”
Kevin leveled his gaze at me. “Yes, I do.”
“Since when?”
“Since always. You don’t know everything about me, Jules.”
What the fuck was going on with the men in
my life and their undisclosed love of winter sports?
Martinez—skiing? Kevin—ice fishing? Would
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Jimmer confess he was a closet pairs figure skater? I could scarcely wrap my head around the hidden sides of these men I thought I knew so well.
“Anyway. I needed time to clear my head.”
“About?”
“The business.”
“What about it?”
“It’s been too slow. We need to expand. With two of us . . . I’m thinking of trying our hand at bond enforcement.”
I blinked. “Like chasing bail jumpers and beating them up and shit?”
“Yeah.”
“I am so totally all over that.”
He sighed. “I thought you would be, so that’s why you’re not going to do it. I am. Besides, half the guys we’d be after probably are associated with your criminal boyfriend.”
“You’re fucking hilarious.” But it explained why Kevin had started bookmarking sites dealing with that skip trace stuff.
“I also had time to think about Amery.”
“I take it she wasn’t with you?”
“No. I went alone.”
Kevin didn’t sound particularly happy about that.
“Tell me something. Are you two officially broken up?”
“Wasn’t like I asked her to go steady and demanded back my class ring when she stopped calling me.”
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Probably unproductive to point out Amery was young enough for the scenario to be true. “You know what I mean. Are you?”
“Why?”
“Are we still working for her?”
“No.”
“Maybe I should rephrase that: are you working for her?”
He slouched in the chair and scowled at me. “Why the clarification?”
I smiled sweetly. “Why the evasion?”
“Touché. No, I’m not working for her. I’m not doing anything with her.”
“Good. I didn’t know how to bring this up, but guess who wants to hire me?” He lifted his eyebrow. Damn. Martinez had that little quirk, too. I found it sexy as hell on both of them. “Bud Linderman.”
“You’re joking.”
“No.” I detailed the visit from Linderman, my suspicions, and recapped my run-ins with him last summer in case Kevin didn’t remember. Kevin didn’t say much after I finished. In fact I sucked down the rest of my Marlboro in the silence.
“You would’ve taken the case without discussing it with me.” A statement, not question.
“Yes, but not to be contrary. Linderman is not the same ruthless man, Kev. Loss changed him. We both know what that’s like. He wasn’t bullshitting me when he said if his facility was negligent he’d have no 364
problem paying Amery compensation.”
“And you bought into that?”
“Not until he told me Vernon Sloane wasn’t some destitute old man, like Amery led us to believe, but worth five million dollars.”
Stunned silence. Then, “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Vernon Sloane was rich. Linderman said Prairie Gardens has a copy of Sloane’s will on file. Amery might not have power of attorney, but she is his sole heir.” I lit up. And I’ll be damned if Kevin didn’t grab my smokes and do the same.
We smoked in hellish stillness. Affected pauses weren’t the norm with him, which was what made them so dramatic.
Kevin extinguished his cigarette and stared at his shoes for the longest time. “Ever been walking along, minding your own business, not paying attention to anything, and you trip on something? After falling flat on your face, you take a quick look around to see if anyone saw you?”
I didn’t answer; I didn’t move. I barely breathed.
“That’s what I feel like, Jules. I’m looking around to see if anyone saw me fall and make a fool of myself.”
When he raised his gaze to mine, his eyes were that unusual shade of stormy green, a mix of fury, humiliation, and self-reproach. “Amery played me, didn’t she? Big-time.”
I still had no response, no “there, there, sweetie”
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comforting words. I wished I did. God did I ever wish I had something profound or sweet or encouraging to erase that brooding