Golden Trail (13 page)

“Gotcha,” Tripp said and rushed to the
fridge.

Tripp got Jasper the hamburger meat while
Jas pulled out another pan and Rocky and Layne sipped at their
beers. Then Tripp returned to the island while Jasper opened the
meat and dumped it in the pan, turning on the burner.

Then Tripp looked at Raquel, he grinned,
then looked over his shoulder at his brother.

“So, Jas,” he called, “since we got a hot
chick here, you should ask for advice on how to get Keira Winters
to go out on a date with you.”

Oh fuck.

Jasper turned slowly from the stove, ice
cold badass gone, he was pissed.

Layne moved quickly which was good since
Jasper lunged, shouting, “You
dick!
”

Layne got in between them, lifting up a hand
which caught Jasper dead in the chest.

“Stand down, Jas,” Layne warned.

Jasper strained against Layne’s hand, his
eyes locked on his brother, his arms reaching for him and he
repeated, “You
dick!
”

“Bud, cool it,” Layne ordered.

“I’m just sayin’!” Tripp shouted back,
sounding upset and confused, his comment was innocent and Layne
decided that lessons on being cool in a variety of ways were at the
top of the agenda for their breakfast conversation the next
morning. “Mrs. As… I mean, Rocky’s pretty, she should know how
pretty girls think.”

“Shut…
up
, Tripp!” Jasper shouted,
still straining.

“Jasper,” Rocky called softly in a way that
all three Layne Men turned their attention to her and Layne felt
Jasper’s body go still. “Keira Winters stands outside my door with
her friend Heather between second and third period every day.”

She stopped talking but her eyes stayed on
Jasper.

“I know,” Jasper grunted, those two words
forced.

“Do you know why?” Rocky asked and Layne
didn’t look away from her but Jasper must have shaken his head
because she kept talking and she did it even more softly. “Because
you walk by my classroom every day between second and third
period.”

The power of Jasper’s body left Layne’s hand
when he moved back an inch.

Rocky carried on. “They talk, I’ve heard
them and… well, we girls don’t tell each other’s secrets but…” she
hesitated and Layne watched her face change, it was almost the look
she used to give him, without her eyes going half-mast, but they
got warm and her mouth got soft and she whispered, “I think the
best way to get Keira Winters to go out with you is just
ask.
”

Then she smiled at his son, giving him her
dimple, her eyes warm and it took effort but Layne forced his gaze
from her and he looked at Jasper.

Jasper was staring at Raquel with a version
of the expression he’d given his old man twice that day. It wasn’t
the same but it was nearly as golden. Then Layne watched Jasper
smile back at her.

And Layne knew Jasper loved him, once, he
knew when Jasper was a little kid that he and his son had a bond
that Layne broke when he divorced Jasper’s Mom and took off, only
seeing his kids a couple of times a year when he’d come home or
they’d come to wherever he was to visit. And he knew Jasper felt
abandoned and betrayed. He just didn’t know how to heal that or if
he ever would.

So he knew Jasper didn’t want much to do
with his old man but seeing him standing there with that golden
look of hope in his eyes about a girl he liked, Layne didn’t
care.

His hand was already in the air so he moved
it slightly and curled his fingers around Jasper’s neck, giving him
a firm squeeze. Jasper’s eyes moved to him, that golden hope shone
on Layne in that moment and Layne didn’t want to lose it and he
knew it would be lost when Jasper came back to himself. So Layne
quickly gave him another squeeze then a gentle shove, released him
and turned away.

Therefore, he missed the fact that the
golden hope had changed, gone deeper as Jasper’s eyes stayed on his
Dad’s back as his father walked away.

And since he was watching his feet hit the
floor, he missed Rocky’s eyes go half-mast and her mouth staying
soft as she watched him walk away from his son.

* * * * *

He felt her mouth touch his then slide to
his jaw, up his jaw and to his ear.

Then Rocky whispered, “Wake up, baby.”

* * * * *

Layne heard those words in his head at the
same time he heard dog tags in the room and his eyes opened.

He was at an angle on the couch, slouched,
his feet on the coffee table. The TV was on but low, some sports
talk show. There were lamps lit, not many of them.

He looked to the left to see Rocky, her
sandals on the floor, curled barefoot in the armchair, knees up and
lying on the armrest, head twisted and resting on the pillowed back
of the reclined chair. She was asleep.

“Dad,” Jasper called quietly and Layne
looked up to see his son standing beside him looking down. “Tripp’s
already upstairs. You cool?”

“Yeah, Jas,” Layne replied, straightening in
the couch. “You goin’ up?”

“Yeah.”

“Turn out the lights, yeah?”

Jasper looked across the room at Rocky then
back at Layne. “All right, Dad.”

“’Night, Bud.”

“’Night.”

Jasper walked away, Blondie came forward and
butted his knee with her nose so Layne bent to her, giving her head
and neck a rubdown while the lights went out one by one. When they
were in darkness outside of a light coming down the stairs, he
pushed her off and she got the hint, jogging after Jasper up the
stairs.

Layne put his elbows to his knees and turned
his head to Rocky.

Pasta bake had been a hit. It was just
hamburger meat, spaghetti sauce and penne mixed together, dumped
into a dish, smothered in mozzarella and baked but it was still
good. This was mainly because it was smothered in a ton of
mozzarella about which Jasper had stated confidently, “Cheese makes
everything awesome.”

They’d eaten in front of the TV watching
sitcoms which Rocky had laughed through, once so hard she had to
curl her arms around her stomach and lean forward, tears streaming
from her eyes. They’d graduated to a gritty cop drama during which
Rocky fell asleep, probably having had as much sleep as he did last
night. Both Tripp and Jasper had noticed and Layne had given them
looks to ignore it and keep quiet.

Then Layne had fallen asleep.

He looked at the time on the DVD player,
just after eleven o’clock.

Then he looked back at Rocky.

Then he made a decision.

He walked to her and slid an arm behind her
knees, one at her waist and he lifted her up. He figured she’d wake
but her head fell heavy on his shoulder then slid forward so her
forehead was pressed to his neck and he remembered then that he
should have known she wouldn’t wake. If she was out, as in
out
out, Rocky slept like the dead.

And she didn’t wake until he bent to put her
in his bed.

“Layne?” Her voice was groggy, her head came
up and she glanced around.

Then her body went alert.

“What –?” she started, her voice sounding
not groggy anymore.

“Shh, Roc,” he murmured, setting her seated
on the side of his bed.

Her head tipped back to look at him and her
palms went into the bed to push herself up. He quickly twisted to
turn on the bedside light and just as quickly moved back to her,
planting a fist in the bed on both sides of her hips, taking his
face close to hers so she reared back.

“You sleep in a bed tonight,” he whispered
and watched her eyes get wide and her lips part.

Then she whispered back, “I don’t think
–”

“Your car’s in my drive,” he told her.

“So?” she asked.

“Imagination is a powerful thing, baby,” he
repeated her words of earlier that night then before she could
protest, he pushed away, went to the dresser, grabbed one of his
tees and a pair of pajama bottoms and he went back to her. He
dropped his tee in her lap and her head tipped down to look at it
as he reached beyond her to nab a pillow.

Then he turned and walked from the room,
going to the linen closet in the boys’ bathroom, he snagged a
blanket, turned off the upstairs light and went downstairs to the
couch. He tossed down the pillow and blanket, changed to his
pajamas and settled into the couch.

He waited for her to come down in order to
sneak out and he did this awhile.

She didn’t come down.

Then he laid there thinking of Rocky wearing
his tee and sleeping in his bed.

Then he muttered, “Christ,” turned to his
side and, after awhile, found sleep.

Nepotism

Layne moved through his closet, pulling out
a sweater to yank over his tee to wear to the game.

The last couple of weeks they’d had Indian
Summer.

That morning, he’d discovered, Fall had hit
and it had done it with a vengeance.

That morning, he’d also woken up to a note
on the island from Rocky addressed to him and his boys thanking
them for dinner with a postscript to Layne saying she’d see him
that night. That was all she left, except the vague scent of her
perfume in his bedroom and his tee folded on the bed she’d made, a
tee which held a not-so-vague hint of her perfume.

He was not happy she’d left like that but he
gave her that play. What they were doing wasn’t easy on him and he
reckoned it was just as difficult for her.

Tripp came down first, as usual, and Layne
had taken the opportunity with Jasper not around to give a few
pointers to his younger son about being cool, for his sake but
mostly for his brother’s. He explained that Keira Winters was not
just one of Jas’s “babes” and that Tripp would be doing his brother
a favor if he kept his mouth shut and just let his brother make his
moves with
silent
support.

Tripp got it, promised he’d be cool and
Layne knew he would. Jasper kept his thoughts and feelings to
himself most of the time but Tripp wore his heart on his sleeve. He
felt shit for pissing off his brother the night before and he
wouldn’t do that again, innocently trying to help or not.

The boys went to school and Layne went into
the office, checked his e-mail and voicemail, returned them, went
through his post and wished he had a receptionist because he did
not like to be in the office returning e-mails and voicemails.

He liked to be in the field. If he had to be
in the office, he preferred to be doing computer investigations but
even that wasn’t his favorite activity. Luckily, the post included
a paid invoice, the check relatively substantial, for a job Layne
completed prior to getting shot.

A receptionist had been on the cards six
weeks ago. Now she was not. It would take a fair few more
substantial invoices being paid before an ad in the newspaper was
scratched on top of his to-do list.

He made an appointment with a potential
client and took an appointment with a client who he’d called the
day before to tell him that the job was done. The guy was not
thrilled with the results of Layne’s investigation but then no man
whose wedding was scheduled for three weeks away liked seeing video
of his bride-to-be, high on E, taking it from behind while she
sucked someone off at the front. Then again, his client was a
spoiled rich kid who fell for an admittedly gorgeous party girl and
thought she’d snap to when offered a life of champagne cocktails
and charity receptions with vacations in the Swiss Alps. Clearly,
at twenty-one, she wasn’t done partying in all the forms that could
take.

Spoiled rich kid or not, Layne felt for him
as he walked him to his front office door. He loved her, it was
plain to see, and a future he thought was bright suddenly wasn’t so
bright anymore and Layne knew exactly how that felt.

After the client left, he was shutting down
the office and trying to decide if he should pay a visit to Stew at
work or go into Indy and follow the husband of a woman who was
convinced he was fucking around on her during his lunch hour (even
though Layne had followed the guy to a variety of restaurants on a
variety of occasions, not to mention doing extra time following him
home, just in case, for the last week and for a month prior to him
getting shot and the guy didn’t even look at his waitresses too
long) when his cell went.

He nabbed it off his desk, flipped it open
and put it to his ear.

“Layne.”

“Big man, gonna be at Mimi’s in five. Could
you use a coffee?” Merry asked in his ear.

“See you there in five,” Layne replied.

Five minutes later, Layne had an Americano
and Merry’s cappuccino and was sitting at the table in Mimi’s that
had the words, “Feb’s spot, sit here and die” carved into it. Layne
had learned from Mimi months ago that Colt’s wife, February, sat at
that table a lot prior to hooking back up with Colt and Mimi’s kids
thought her clientele should be aware of the fact that, if Feb was
there, she had a reserved seat.

He’d also met Mimi’s kids in the meantime
and found Mimi was lucky they only carved the words into the table
rather than using a flamethrower to mark the entire wall around
it.

Merry came in, eyes on Layne, and made a
bee-line.

“Hey Merry,” Mimi called from behind the
counter.

“Hey Meems,” Merry called back as he arrived
at the table and looked down at his mug. “Tanner, buddy, no
cookie?”

“You wanna keep gettin’ laid, Garrett, you
can’t get a gut. That cappuccino is skinny. Just lookin’ out for
you, man.”

Merry grinned at him and patted his flat abs
before he sat down, muttering, “Good friends like you, hard to
find.”

He meant that in more than one way and Layne
studied him closely.

Merry didn’t make him wait for it. “Hear
Rocky’s got herself a new beau.”

“Merry,” Layne murmured.