Marriage & the Mermaid (Hapless Heroes) (30 page)

A crack in the Plexiglas.

Chapter Thirty–Seven

R
andolph swallowed down the last of the whisky in his glass, hoping the alcohol would give him clarity. As a child he’d managed to run away from home, cheat, steal, survive prostitution and navigate the dark corners of the Valley where every low–life had tried to bleed him. He’d run his own life and never been outsmarted, yet this old man’s doddering unpredictability was consistently deflecting his carefully–laid plans.

“Could we see your study now, Theodore?” he asked. Being in the same room as the paperwork might give him the opportunity to get it finalized. “You’ve told me so much about it. I don’t want to miss the opportunity to see it for myself.”

“Yes, yes.” Ted nodded eagerly and even stood and took a couple of steps away from the dining table before he turned back frowning. “Did we have our tea?” he asked.

Rand, who had also risen, leant back over the table and picked up his empty glass. “We had a drink,” he said. “It was most refreshing.”

“Oh yes. That’s right. And dinner?” Ted wavered from side to side, his mad hair sticking out at all angles, his cardigan buttoned askew over unironed tweed pants and a flannelette pajama shirt. His hands clasped and unclasped in front of him.

“Betty made us a chicken salad,” Rand reminded him. “It was delicious.”

“Good girl, that Betty,” Ted said, nodding his approval. “And pretty too. You could do worse than ending up with a girl like that, Randolph.”

Ted had a point. Betty was gold, but Rand doubted the old man knew her talents probably lay in thievery. He’d seen that shifty–eyed glance often enough to recognize it.

But instead of commenting on that, Rand conjured a smile. “You’re embarrassing me now, Theodore. She’s too pretty for me.”

Ted barked a laugh. “Good looking young man like you?” He shook his head. “You must be swamped in women.”

“Well, I do have a special friend,” Randolph said, deliberately being ambiguous in case the old guy had been expecting him to be gay. With a bit of luck, that would be the end of the matchmaking. There’d been enough distractions already in the last couple of hours. Gardening, old movies, chess. Rand wanted to get into the study. The groundwork had been laid. It was time to nail the deal.

“Sly old dog,” Ted said. “You never told me!”

“Well, a gentleman doesn’t discuss his private life, Theodore. You know that.”

Ted laughed and let Rand walk him to the dining room door. “I do indeed,” he said. “But it’s refreshingly rare to meet someone of my son’s generation who has some discretion.”

Rand simply smiled at that, pleased with himself that Ted thought he was in his twenties. Clothes obviously made the man. “Which way to the study, Theodore?” he asked when they were out into the hallway.

“Oh, the study.” Ted looked up and back, and Rand steeled himself for another deflection. Instead, Ted said, “This way, Randolph,” and led him to a long narrow room with French windows leading out onto the veranda. A gilt–edged fireplace crouched against one wall. “Here’s the computer you recommended,” Ted said, leading him past a gigantic mahogany desk a smaller one at the back where the latest model
Voodoo Omen PC
sat waiting.

Rand had been lusting over this brand of computer on gamer websites for years. He slid a hand over the top of the hard drive case. “The Roles Royce of computers, Theodore. Very nice.”

“And the digital camera is here in the bureau.” Ted led him behind the desk. “With the handheld, the laptop and the …” He waved a vague hand at the matching mahogany sideboard. “The other thing you said I should get.”

“The digital telescope?”

“Yes!” Ted opened the doors and shuffled from one foot to the other, like a child showing off Christmas presents. “I don’t let Balthazar touch them,” he said and nodded at the wisdom of that statement.

“Is he clumsy?” Rand asked, keeping his attention on the digital camera box he’d deliberately picked up to inspect.

“Nooo, he’s …” Ted frowned, as though searching his memory.

“Careless?” Rand asked lightly, putting down the camera to pick up the PDI.

“Exactly!” Ted said. “He’s easily distracted.”

Impossible to avoid around Theodore. But instead of pointing that out, Rand put down the outrageously overpriced boy–toy and turned to look his host in the eye. “Is that why you wanted me to look after Saltwood?” he asked.

Ted frowned. “Look after Saltwood?” he repeated, seemingly completely baffled. “Balthazar does that now.”

“But you said yourself that he’s careless, Theodore,” Randolph replied smoothly, glad to be at the business end of the day now, working the scam into its parking slot. With luck he’d have the engine off and be back in the cabana fucking the brains out of his new little friend before the hour was out. “And this is your home. You don’t want to lose it.”

“How could I?” Ted asked, wringing his hands together now. Almost there…

“Carelessness,” Rand told him. “Not paying attention to details. Not dotting all the i’s and crossing all the t’s. Is your boy good with paperwork, Theodore?” Rand demanded, as though Balthazar was younger than himself. “You know I am. I filled in those papers the moment you sent them to me.”

“What papers?”

Okay, that was a hiccup, but Rand was determined to cruise through it. “These papers, Theodore,” he said, pulling them out of his briefcase. “The papers where you asked me to help you do things, like paying bills and organizing your tax, dealing with government issues. I realize it might seem odd because we’d never met at that point, but I trusted you, Theodore. You were my friend. I was happy to help you.”

“Oh.” Ted said, nonplussed.

“I’ve brought them with me, Theodore,” Rand said, smiling an
aren’t I a good boy
smile. He handed over the papers and Ted fumbled through them. “Now you just need to sign your sections. Where the stickers are. And then you’ll never need to worry about paperwork again.”

On Tuesday when Rand turned eighteen he’d be at the JP desk faster than you could say
Swindled Millions,
and then he and Possum would be rolling in it. But before Rand could get carried away fantasizing, Ted said, “These need to be witnessed.”

Rand kept smiling but inside he was thinking
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
He’d meant to ask the gardener to hang around. But after Venus had left the cabana Rand hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. Which was crazy. This was serious money. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to be distracted. As a consequence he’d forgotten to ask Carlos to stay near the house. Now the gardener was at the dump. Shit! “Can we ask Betty?” he said.

“Is she eighteen?” Ted asked, frowning at the papers. “A witness needs to be eighteen. I remember that distinctly. I’m sure she’s younger than that.”

Rand had no doubt that a scammer like Betty could pretend to be any age, but this was a legal document. “What about Venus?” Rand asked. “The housekeeper. Is she eighteen?”

Theodore’s eyes narrowed, and he looked up from the papers. “Why do you want her to do it?” he demanded in a hard voice Rand hadn’t heard before.

“Because she’s the only one here over eighteen?” Rand’s mind raced back through their conversations. Ted had told Betty to make the dinner to give Venus the night off, so it was okay that Rand knew her name. That wasn’t suspicious. And if Ted was concerned to give her time off he must like her. Mustn’t he? Or had Venus said something about Ted being difficult. Rand struggled to remember.

“Did she put you up to this?” Ted asked, holding the papers so tightly that they scrunched in his hands.

Rand felt his pulse slow as ice settled into this stomach.
Shit.
There was something happening between Venus and Ted, and he hadn’t seen it. Were they fucking? He felt a surge of violent anger at the thought, then wondered why he should. He’d had prostitutes before, plenty of times. It had never worried him who they’d been with. But he’d believed Venus’s
hot little virgin
routine. He’d been conned, and he had no idea why. What agenda had she been pushing?

No time to think of that now. He had to placate Ted. “I’ve never met her, Theodore,” Rand reminded him. “Isn’t she to be trusted?”

“You’ve never met her,” Ted repeated, and his eyes cleared. “No, you haven’t, have you?”

“You spoke to Betty about her. You gave her the night off. I thought …” Rand tried to inflict hurt into his voice. “I thought you liked her. But … I’m sorry if I offended you with my suggestion. Your staff relationships are none of my business.”

“I don’t like her,” Ted said plainly, and Rand wondered then if he’d tried to have her and she’d knocked him back. But to be so vehement? “Carlos will be back soon,” Ted added. “We’ll wait for him.”

“Fine,” Rand said, but this time his smile was strained. The first heavy drops of rain had just started to fall on the tin roof above them, which meant that Carlos, in a utility, could be bogged on the way home. Balthazar on the other hand, had a four wheel drive, which meant he and his girlfriend could arrive at any minute. Not to mention the fact that it had been dark for over an hour, which meant Venus would be getting impatient inside the cabana. What if she came looking for him, and Ted found out about their afternoon fuck?

Could the situation
get
any worse?

“Another drink?” Rand asked, and nodded at the drinks cabinet he could see on the opposite wall.

“I drink tea,” Ted said.

Rand’s mobile phone beeped then, and he was so keyed up that he jerked in fright.

“Was that you?” Ted asked, looking at him quizzically.

“My mobile telephone,” Rand said, reaching inside his suit coat, unable to believe he hadn’t put the phone on silent mode. Where was his head? Back in the cabana fucking Venus, that’s where. And here he was trying to impress Ted with his ‘attention to detail’. “It’s a text message, Theodore,” he said. “I won’t be a moment.”

He stepped away and retrieved the message:

naziboys hit us.
UR shits gone.
im beet up.
stayin wit lillbit.
Cum home. p

Rand looked at the small square screen and couldn’t think for a minute. Then all he could think was that he should try to get his breathing under control. Possum was alive. Their belongings didn’t matter. It was just stuff. Stuff could be replaced. People couldn’t. But it was okay. His ‘people’ were alive.

He replied to the text message, his fingers shaking on the buttons:

stay with Lillbit. I b bak tmoro. r

“Problem at home?” Ted asked.

Rand clicked
send
and put the mobile back into his pocket, but as he turned to face Theodore, his determination wavered. Half an hour ago he’d wanted Saltwood enough to sell his soul for it, but now it looked like slipping through his fingers. Add to which, Poss was hurt and Rand ached to get back to him, to prove to the kid that there were people in the world he could trust.

But they needed a lump sum to escape the Valley and Poss’s ex–pimp was the sort who’d track them down if they tried to renege on their debts. Rand had been scrounging up ‘lease payments’, but if he wanted the kid released from his ‘contract’, he had to come up with a final payout. Ten grand. May as well be a million to a streeter.

“My little brother is in trouble with the police,” Rand said hesitantly, as though embarrassed. “He’s a tearaway, I’m afraid. I try to keep him out of trouble, for our mother’s sake.”

Ted came and put a hand on Rand’s shoulder. “You’re a good son, Randolph. I wish Balthazar was a son like you.”

“Thank you, Theodore,” Rand said, blinking and finding he wasn’t having any trouble conjuring damp eyes. The thought of a bruised Poss trying to sleep on Lillbit’s flea–bitten beanbag tugged at heartstrings he hadn’t known he possessed. “I’ve come to think of you as a father myself,” he added, trying to keep his eye on the prize. To stay in there, working.

Ted’s bottom lip quivered for a moment, then he pulled Rand into a bear hug and started patting his back. “And I’ll be more than happy for you to look after my interests as a good son should, Randolph,” he whispered, his voice shaky.

Rand patted back. Who would have guessed? Five minutes, one hug, and Rand’s fortunes had turned 180 degrees. He was about to offer some platitude in return when he heard a sound near the door, but before he could pull out of Ted’s awkward embrace, a male voice cut across the room.

“What the
fuck
is going on!”

Chapter Thirty–Eight

V
enus paced the kitchen, two hands against her solar plexus, pushing against the sensation that had started there – a wrenching, like someone was pulling her insides towards the ocean.

The sun had set an hour ago and Randolph had stood her up so she’d come back into the house to do what he’d asked her to — to distract Baz when he got home, but the more time passed, the less she was able to concentrate. Every muscle in her body strained towards the door and it was only the desperate need to say goodbye to people she cared about that kept her in the house when an overwhelming compulsion demanded she head down to the beach — not to where she’d spent the day in a damp, boring cave — into the water. Her skin felt dry and itchy and she was convinced that only immersion in the cool, salty ocean would soothe it.

She had to go.

But she needed to say goodbye, and she didn’t want to go looking for people in case she ran into Ted. He didn’t like her and she didn’t like him. It would be better if they didn’t meet again.

Lightning flashed off the kitchen windows and she winced at its brightness, as though all her senses were heightened and oversensitive. Her feet felt light as though she wanted to fly to the water, or at least run very fast, but there were people here who would worry if she disappeared. She had to tell someone she was going, and that was keeping her indoors. The incompatibility of the two opposing urges was turning her mind into mush.