Helaughed again, pulling his wool coatonand fasteningthe toggles. “Then, maybe it’s you who’s blind. Ye have those eyes examinedrecently?”
“Ah,”I slashed a hand through the air dismissively, shaking my head and turning myattention back to the list, “getyerarseto work, ye fuckin’bawbag.And don’t forgetyercamera.”
“Yes,dear,” he said, kissing the air in my direction. “Anddinnaeye forgetyerprotection. I ken it’s been a longtime.”
Sneeringthrough a grin, I pulled back the lapel of my jacket to reveal my baton. “I’vegot all the protection I need right here,laddie.”
“Uh-huh,”Rick grunted, rolling hiseyesand smiling. But then,his grin was wipedcleanand his playful demeanor wasreplaced with a straight face and solemn eyes. “Be safe, Alec. Useyerhead. Ifyeralone in this,ye need to mindyerback more carefully.”
Inodded with every drop of sincerity as I could muster. “Ye have my word.”
“Good,”he replied, smiling as he headed for the door, but I’d be blind to have missedthe worried crumple of his brow as he left.
AndI wasn’t blind.
***
TJreally shouldn’t have accompanied us on our search. Not only was the boy tooyoung to handle matters like these, but he was also a thorn in my side if thereever was one. I knew it the moment we got into the car that he would hinder thesearch. But without knowing the extent of the threat they were under, I couldn’twith a clear conscience leave him alone at the house. So, take him with us, Idid, and I silently wished the woman had left him in the States.
“God,do you ever clean this thing out?” he complained from the backseat, pushingaside some rubbish from supper a fortnight ago—or wasitlunch?
“No,”I replied, lacking in reaction.
“Andyou’re, how old? Forty-five? Fifty?”
“Forty.”
“Holyshit,” he muttered, snickering. “You lookwayolder than that.”
“TJ,”Rosie groaned, shaking her head. “Knock it off.”
“What?”He laughed incredulously. “I’m just saying, he looks crazy old.”
“Hedoesn’t look crazy old,” she disputed with an exhausted sigh.
“Mom,come on,” he laughed. “You’re, what, the same age, and you look so much youngerthan he does.”
“Firstof all,” she said with another sigh, “I’m thirty-seven, thank you very much,andsecond of all—”
“Jesus,you don’t need to defend the guy.”
“Andyou don’t need to insult him. He’s doing a lot for us, and—”
“Ican’t hear you,” TJ finally said, dismissing his mother by shoving his earbudsdeep into his ear canals, and I thanked the baby Christ for silence.
Sittingbeside me in jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes, Rosie scrubbed her palmsvigorously over her face and growled angrily. Her frustration with her son wasevidently clear, and if it were up to me, I would’ve given the wee shite alashing for repeatedly pushing her so far to her inevitable breaking point. Butit wasn’t up to me.
“I’msorry,” she said, shaking her head and dropping her hands to her lap. “I’msorry he’s so difficult. I’m sorry he’s even here at all. And I know Ishouldn’t play into it, I know I don’t help anything by fighting back, but it’sjust so … so …” Her hands curled into tight fists, as she finished, “Infuriating.”
“Dinnaeworry about it,” I said, shrugging it off. “Doesnaebother me in the slightest.”
Sheturned to glare at me, doubt heavy in her eyes. But when I offered no reaction,she sighed and uncurled her hands, settling more comfortably into her seat.
“Youdon’t look old, by the way,” she replied, laughing. “Honestly, I would not havethought you were forty.”
“Itwouldnaebother me if ye did.” I shruggednonchalantly. “This work will make ye old long beforeyertime. It’s the nature of it.”
“Ican understandthat,” she said, nodding. “I can’t evenimagine the things you’ve seen or had to deal with—”
