The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,49

she’d made a mistake, that she should have moved to California and tried her luck as a character actor? Then the fight broke up, and Dad scooped up Billy, who was sobbing into Dad’s shoulder while Dad walked him around the house and patted his back.

And then the truck had driven on, and Jem couldn’t see them anymore. Couldn’t see anything. He was startled, the world rushing back in, when Tean said something.

“What?”

Tean’s face was strange; his hand lay lightly on top of Jem’s, where Jem was holding the doc’s shoulder. “I said you’re hurting me.”

Then Jem felt the ache in his fingers, and his face flooded with heat as he pried his grip loose. “God, I’m so sorry. I was—I don’t even know what I was doing. My brain was totally somewhere else.”

The doc just watched him. He didn’t massage his shoulder, although he probably wanted to. He just stared at Jem, his dark eyes like they always were: warm, soft, frighteningly open.

“Do you want to handle this?” Jem said. “I don’t think Hannah likes me.”

Tean grabbed the keys, but he didn’t pull them from the ignition. He was still watching. Scipio snored softly in the back seat. Jem ran his fingers over the vinyl upholstery, his fingers bumping over the stitching.

“You’re the one who’s good at talking to people,” was all Tean said. “I can’t believe you got Leroy to talk to us. Gosh, I can’t believe you got him to cry.”

Jem shrugged, glued on a smile, and slid out of the truck. Behind him, the doc’s steps hurried across the pavement.

“Are you ok? What’s going on?”

“Yeah, of course. Just—my stomach. I think that breakfast burrito might have been wonky.”

They were almost to the porch when Tean pinched him. Hard.

“Ow,” Jem roared. “What the hell?”

“You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you,” Tean said, staring up at him, the glasses halfway down his nose. “You’re always entitled to tell me it’s none of my business, or just not say anything at all, or tell me you want to talk about it later. But don’t you ever, ever speak ill of a Rancherito’s breakfast burrito again. Not in my hearing.”

Rubbing the aching spot on his arm, Jem stared at Tean.

“You’re insane.”

“I know.”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

“Duh.”

“I can’t believe you pinched me.”

Tean shrugged and headed for the porch. “Believe it, sweet cheeks.”

Jem watched him go. “Sweet cheeks? What the hell has gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” Tean mumbled without looking back. “I might be having a stroke.”

Jem was smiling. Grinning, actually. And when he realized that, he forced the expression away and clomped up onto the porch next to the doc.

When Tean knocked again, the door opened immediately. Caleb stood there, his hair mussed, stubble on his chin and cheeks. He was still in work clothes: collar undone, shirt half untucked, trousers sagging like they were about to slide right off his nonexistent ass. His expression, in that first instant, was painfully hopeful. When he saw them, it evaporated.

“Tean, I don’t want to be rude, but I’ve got too much going on to do this with you right now.”

“We just have a few questions for Hannah. We ran into some strange stuff, and we just need to clear it up.”

“No.”

“What the hell do you mean, no?” Jem said. “Go wake her up if you have to. This is important. It’s her butt that’s in the frying pan.”

“You need to go.” He raised one hand; he was shaking. “Get off my property.” In his other hand, Caleb held a phone. A voice rumbled, and Jem would have put money on the voice belonging to Howard Lackey. Hannah’s father was saying something that sounded like “Get rid of them.” And then Jem realized no Divorcee. No barking.

“Is that Howard?” Jem said. “Let me talk to him.”

“Don’t answer any of their questions,” Howard was shouting. “Lock the door and wait until I get there.”

“Caleb,” Tean said, “where’s Hannah?”

Caleb started to cry, putting one shaking hand over his eyes. He disconnected the call. Through the tears, he managed to stammer, “I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Tean said, “let’s sit down and talk about this.”

As always, Tean was a different person in emergencies. He ushered Caleb into the living room, got him seated, and then headed straight for the kitchen. He came back with a glass of water and sat on the sofa next to the sobbing man. When he put his arm around Caleb, Caleb just cried harder, and Tean talked to