Darker Than Any Shadow - By Tina Whittle Page 0,48
Revelations, with three-headed beasts and the whore of Babylon, and then I’d run, flat out, as fast as I could for the door. Homicidal I could handle. Pseudo-evangelical nuttery? That terrified me.
But Frankie took a deep breath, and the crazy evaporated. That was when I knew she was capable of becoming whatever she needed to be to get whatever she wanted. She was a Russian nesting doll of personas.
“Talk to Rico,” she said. “Tell him he’s got the team in his corner, if he wants to be a team player.” She jabbed her chin at me. “Now it’s your turn. Pick a corner.”
I shouldered my bag. “I never left my corner.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Short on time, I decided to abandon my dress shopping plan. Instead, I went by the dry cleaners and retrieved my Friday night dress. I was heading back to the condo to change when Trey called, as promised, at five-fifteen on the dot.
By five-sixteen, however, I was fuming.
“What do you mean, you can’t make it? I know you got that report finished on time.”
“I did. But a new client came in this afternoon, and Marisa needs an intake report.”
“That’s bullshit, Trey. You could do that in the morning.”
“She wants it tonight.”
I felt like snatching my gun out of the holster and shooting something, preferably something overbearing and fake blond. “This is a power play, Trey, nothing more.”
“Tai—”
“She’s pissed that you have a life outside of that office that might inconvenience her empire, and she’s gonna step on you every time you try to—”
“Tai.”
I took a breath. “What?”
“I know this.”
“You do?”
“Yes. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Do you understand?”
I understood. He needed that job as much as she needed him to do it. It provided a framework to hang his life on, and without it…
I sighed. “I understand. I’m not happy, though.”
“I can still meet you at the gym after class.”
The gym. I’d forgotten. Every Monday night Trey taught basic self defense there. I usually joined him afterward for a private session, since he had the room reserved for the entire evening. I was tired, so tired, but the thought of beating up a weight bag was enticing.
I let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll see you at the gym.”
“Are you staying over?”
This was also a mostly regular thing for Mondays—kicking things and then a night at his place, where the showers were continuously hot, the AC predictably cool, and the big bed soft and clean and filled with Trey.
“That sounds good too.”
“I’ll see you at eight. Bring your wraps. Tonight is sparring.”
He hung up abruptly. So much for putting Maurice Cunningham AKA Vigil through Trey’s cranial lie detector. I was on my own, again, facing some suspicious no-good-nik, again.
And then my phone rang. It was Rico. I pressed it to my ear.
“You called.”
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
“So what happened, did they—”
“Can we talk about it when you come and get me?”
“When I what?”
“I’m stuck at the lawyer’s office. Adam was supposed to pick me up, but he never showed, and he’s not answering his phone.”
I got a twinge of worry. That wasn’t like Adam. He was usually Mr. Good Deed. I immediately hooked a left back downtown.
“In return, you get to do me a favor.”
“This doesn’t involve anything Confederate, does it? You know I hate—”
“Nothing Confederate, only a wardrobe change.” I hit the parking lot of GA 400 and slammed to a halt. “So why’d you get hauled in last night?”
“They found the money at my place.”
“The missing two thousand?”
“Yep. Shoved under my mattress. I’m guessing Lex wasn’t kidding when he said he could prove I took it.”
“But how did he get it under there?”
“We had practice there Friday afternoon. It would have been easy.”
I added up the evidence. Blood on his shoes, stolen money in his apartment, an intense and well-documented dislike of the deceased.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Rico, but…why aren’t you behind bars?”
“Beats me all to hell, baby girl.”
***
Rico didn’t speak on the way to his apartment. I let him have his space until he started up the stairwell, when I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“What’s going on with you and Adam?”
“Tai—”
“I’m sorry, but I have to know. First, he calls me and tells me the bloody shoe story, then he doesn’t come with you to the memorial. Then he gets all hot about the police search, and now he abandons you at the lawyer’s.”
Rico sighed. “Tai—”
“I’m for real, he needs to step up.”
Rico’s hallway smelled of curry and menthol cigarettes. It was