The Dangerous Edge of Things - By Tina Whittle Page 0,70
busted out, but denies doing it. Likewise on busting out my camera and planting the threats.”
Trey opened the door to the sedan. He was avoiding my eyes. “I’ll be in-field for the rest of the day. Call me if you need me.”
I put a hand out as he went to get in, and he froze, my hand on his midsection.
“What were you doing here?” I said.
“Dylan came looking for you at Phoenix. It made sense that this would be his next stop.” He finally looked directly at me. “Please be careful. Even though Perkins has been caught, it’s still dangerous.”
I removed my hand. “You worried old Dylan will get me in some dark alley?”
“No, I’m almost certain this will be the last we hear of Dylan Flint. But I’m afraid he’s not our only concern.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m apprehensive, and I don’t know why. And I usually do.” He got into the car. “Marisa told me that Janie has asked to see you. Please call me later and tell me what she said. And Tai…”
It was the first time he’d ever called me by name. “Yes?”
“I meant it. Be careful.”
***
I finished my emergency cigarette in the Phoenix parking garage, brushed my hair, and got ready to face Yvonne. To my surprise, she smiled as I walked to the front desk.
“You have to wait here,” she said.
“But Janie asked me to come, I’m supposed to—”
And then Landon walked out of the conference room. He was smiling too. My stomach sank.
“You just missed Janie,” he said. “She went to the hotel to pack. Now that her sister’s killer is behind bars, she going back to South Carolina.”
I shouldered my bag and turned to leave. Landon glided into my path.
“Not so fast. I heard you had a run-in with Dylan Flint.”
“I heard you did too, or so Dylan seems to think.”
A flicker of surprise rode across his eyes, but he covered it, quick. “I don’t care what he thinks, and neither does anybody else.”
“Somebody cared enough to trash his place.”
Landon tsk-tsked. “It’s a crime-ridden world out there.”
“Which makes it so great that Phoenix is there to protect and serve.” I delivered this morsel with a thick coating of sarcasm, but Landon didn’t bite. His smile deepened, which further unnerved me.
“Now that justice has been served and Janie is returning home, your services are no longer required. We’ll have the paperwork ready for you tomorrow, along with a check from the Beaumonts, a final thank-you.”
I didn’t move. He swept a hand toward the doors. “Go home. And don’t even think about running to Marisa. After I told her you dragged Trey to Boomers last night, she finally decided you’re more trouble than you’re worth, no matter what Eric says.”
I stared at him. He tsk-tsked.
“Of course I know about your little adventure—Trey submitted a 302 on it this morning. Filed it under personal protection.”
Of course he did. I fumed, but said nothing.
Landon continued. “So Marisa terminated your personal protection order as well. Case closed.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Maybe. But this isn’t. You have to leave now. Come back tomorrow morning for your termination package.”
“Keep it,” I said, and turned to go.
“Not so fast.” Landon held out his hand. “Your ID.”
“I lost the cheap piece of crap. Stick that in your termination package.”
Chapter 36
I found Janie in her room at the Ritz, a twin of the one I’d abandoned for Dexter’s pull-out. She invited me in absent-mindedly, and went back to the half-filled suitcase flopped open on the bed. Outside I heard sirens, an ambulance, a police car. The sounds of someone else’s day gone suddenly bad.
“I just got back from Phoenix,” I said. “Landon told me you’re leaving.”
Janie laid a white blouse in the suitcase. “They’ve released the body, so we can take her home now.”
“That must be a relief.”
“Yeah. We’ve just got to finish up here, and then we can get started with the arrangements.” She looked at the clothes-strewn bed, then back at me. “I appreciate all you’ve done, though, over the past few days.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“You listened, that was a lot. But it’s over now, and the best we can do is get back to normal.”
She was right, of course. But there was so much still unanswered, unhonored, unspoken. I sat on the edge of the bed. The room smelled of old coffee and fresh laundry, but a hint of smoke was in there too—I saw an ashtray by the bed, overflowing with butts. My fingers twitched.