The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,36

“I had a shit day. I went to see LouElla.”

“What?”

Jem took a bite, and his face went totally blank. After a moment, he chewed and swallowed, and then he put down his fork. “This is good.”

“I know you hate it. I don’t care right now; tell me about LouElla. Are you ok?” Now that they were closer, Tean could see the faint bruising on one side of Jem’s face. He reached out before he could stop himself, adjusting the angle of Jem’s head, inspecting. “Did she do this to you?”

Jem was silent.

“I’m calling the police,” Tean said. “That’s assault and battery.”

When he reached for his phone, though, Jem reached across the table and caught his arm. He shook his head. After a moment, Tean sighed and nodded, holding up both hands to show they were empty.

Then Jem told him: the conversation with LouElla, her claim that someone else had committed the fraud, and her offer of a trade.

“Do you believe her?”

Jem stirred the stroganoff; he still hadn’t taken another bite. “I think she’s telling the truth about this. She’s been very smart about how she’s played the system. She’s greedy, but she’s not stupid.”

“She abuses children. She gave you that huge scar.”

“But only when she knew she could get away with it.”

“I think she’s lying.”

“She might be.”

“What does she want you to do?” Tean asked.

“She’s actually in the middle of being relicensed as a foster parent. There was an incident; she got suspended. Now she wants me to be there for the home visit.” A hard smile creased Jem’s face. “A success story, you know.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Tean said. “I’ve been doing some research on how to rebuild your credit, and—”

Jem shook his head, and Tean stopped; he recognized that gesture, knew he’d hit a dead end. Jem took a few more bites and set his fork down.

“Let’s go pick up a burger for you,” Tean said.

“Thanks, but I’m really not hungry.”

Tean tried not to let his eyes fall out of his head. He managed to say, “I think you’ve got some more work if you want it.”

“What?”

So Tean told him about Hannah, and he showed him the pictures that Hannah had emailed him. When he’d finished, he added, “She gave me phone numbers for Joy Erickson and her wife, Zalie, and two addresses: their condo here in the city, and a farm they have near Heber. And I did a little research. Joy is an environmental activist, blogger, and speaker, all of which sounds like a lot of unpaid labor. Zalie, her wife, has her online stuff locked down, but my guess is that she must make the money. Or Joy has family money. Anyway, I said you’d be willing to look into it without involving the police.”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s good money, and it’s something you’re good at.”

“No, about Hannah and all this mess.”

“I don’t know. She’s lying, but I don’t know why. I can’t even understand why.”

“But you want to find out.”

Tean had to think about that. “I want to help Hannah. I think this is the best way right now.”

Jem nodded. “Looks like I’ll be a gainfully employed, upstanding citizen for a few more days. I guess I should get going; you probably want to call it a night. Thanks for letting me crash your dinner like this.”

As Jem carried his plate into the kitchen and scraped the rest of his dinner into the trash, Tean said, “Hey, would you do me a favor?”

The scrape of the fork’s tines across ceramic paused. “You know I will. What?”

“Would you stay here for a few nights? I know you’re still getting everything set up at your new place, and I’m excited to see it when you’re ready. But I—I don’t like the thought of you being in limbo. I was up a lot last night, worrying about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know I don’t have to. But that’s just what worrying is. You do it when you care about someone, whether you want to or not.”

When Jem came back to the table, his face was unreadable.

“On the couch,” Tean said, “just so we’re clear.”

“I think you told me that last time I stayed here, and you remember how that turned out.”

“Well, I mean it this time. I care about you a lot, but I don’t think we’re right for each other as romantic partners, and—”

“Ok, ok, ok,” Jem said. “I know. You’ve given me the speech like eight times. I