The Last King of Texas - By Rick Riordan Page 0,29
and patted George's hand. "I hate to cut out, but I should catch a taxi. You remember how it is, George, you get an arrest case and the clock starts ticking for the indictment."
"You're a - "
"Cop, honey. Homicide detective. The hot-shit variety."
"Oh, hey, I didn't - "
She smiled. "Not a problem, George. I sympathize. Really, we should do this some other time. It's been great, and really - " She slid her plate over. "You guys have some chile relleno. Looks terrific."
She gave Jenny a silent, unequivocal order with her eyes, a we need to talk command that made Jenny grab her purse before she even knew she'd done it. "Oh - you shouldn't go alone, I guess," Jenny gabbled. Then to me, "Maybe I should - I could just take a rain check or - you know?"
"Sure," I said.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, sure."
'I'll - "
Jenny wavered, looking at me apologetically, then saw something she hadn't expected, the beginnings of a smile I'd been trying to suppress.
Her face got a little colder. "Well - maybe another time."
George and I stood and mumbled sureties that we'd all be sitting around the table again real soon, and then the women left to catch their taxi. Rod "the Rod" Rodriguez oozed into the mambo version of "The Long and Winding Road."
George deflated into his seat. I sat next to him and started laughing.
"What the hell are you so cheerful about?" George snarled. "You knew who she was, didn't you?"
"The food is really good," I told him. "Isn't it?"
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah?"
"Yes, already!"
I grinned, then waved down the waitress and told her to bring two more margaritas for the bachelor master detectives.
Chapter 12
After dropping off George that night, I should've gone straight home to bed. Of course I didn't.
The abbreviated dinner date had left me wired. My mind was still spinning from getting nearly blown up and shot at and gainfully employed all in one day. Most of all, I'd allowed myself to slip into case mode. Too many years of missing-persons traces, peripheral work on homicides - training myself to work in forty-eight-hour sprints before the statistical window of success slammed shut in my face.
I decided to swing by Erainya's, see if she was awake. Just for a minute, I told myself. Just to get back in her good graces and promise to be a good little teacher from now on.
That plan changed as soon as I pulled in front of Erainya's house. Her door opened instantly. Erainya stomped down her front steps with Jem in tow and an armful of gear. She was wearing her commando clothes - black drawstring pants, long-sleeved T-shirt, black sneakers. With her black hair, in the dark, she looked like a pale, floating, pissed-off face. Jem was wearing scarlet Rugrats pajamas and new white Reeboks only slightly brighter than his smile.
Erainya let Jem into the backseat of the VW, then lowered herself and her stuff into the passenger's side and slammed the door. "Shoot me if I ever let you out of my sight again."
"Look, about Ozzie Gerson - "
"You ain't been home making lesson plans, honey."
"The call just happened to come in while we were talking and - "
"Wherever you go tonight, you're taking me."
"I'm going home."
"I brought my 9mm. Stop now and I might not use it."
I shut up. Jem squeezed me around the neck from behind and told me he was glad we were going to have fun together tonight. I mumbled my halfhearted agreement, then started the engine.
We did a U on Garraty and headed south through Terrell Hills.
Erainya said, "Full story."
The full story took us all the way to Broadway. Erainya loved it. She asked me where I wanted to go now and when I told her, she loved that even more. She muttered Greek words of disgust all the way to the Hildebrand intersection. Jem asked where we were going.
I glanced at Erainya for guidance.
Having the mother he did, Jem had been on excursions that most kids would've found boring or nightmarish or both. His nap and sleep cycles were completely unpredictable, much like his mother's verdicts on what was safe and appropriate for him. At the moment he seemed happy, ready for anything. The place I wanted to go, however, might not be so kid-friendly.
"He's fine," Erainya promised. "I got to baby-sit you and him at the same time, I can do that. Uncle Tres is taking us somewhere, honey."