Fish on a Bicycle Page 4

  “The receptionist. Apparently he got some jail time for vandalizing her house and terrorizing her when she was inside, and that’s on the record. What’s not on the record is that he stalked Henry’s brother for a short time too. Hence the CDs being thrown at his head.”

  Jackson’s eyebrows went up. Galen had said two employees, but this was a surprise. “Why didn’t it go on record?”

  “Dex’s husband scared the boy off,” Galen supplied, a grim smile on his mouth.

  Well, if Jackson remembered correctly, Kane had shoulders like a moving van—he would have scared Jackson off too.

  “So that’s another connection,” Ellery said, frowning. “Does Dex have an alibi?”

  “He was home with Kane,” Henry said, sounding irritated for reasons known only to him. “Kane’s niece had school the next day. They’ve become fucking model citizens now.”

  Jackson made eye contact with Galen. “Do we have any clue why this pisses him off so much?”

  Galen gave an evil smile. “Guilty conscience and unrequited love.”

  “Fuck you!” Henry yelled. “Fuck you and fuck off and fuck this fucking bull—”

  Jackson got behind him and grabbed his ear. It was a gamble—the guy was decked and he was military, and he could have gone ballistic on Jackson’s ass and taken out the entire brand-new office, Galen and Ellery included. But Jackson had the feeling there was something of a mama’s boy in this guy. And getting grabbed by the ear was a mama’s boy’s secret weakness.

  Sure enough, Henry flailed, his arms windmilling, but he never once sucked it up, stood still, and tried any of the thirty things he could have done to debilitate Jackson.

  “Let me go, motherfucker!” Henry snarled, still flailing.

  “No!” Jackson kicked him in the back of the thigh and sent him down to his knees. “Now shut up and let the grown-ups talk, Junior. This nice man is trying to keep you out of jail, and you’re being a complete twat. Do I care why? Well, only if I’ve got popcorn and a soda and a big screen—and it has something to do with the case. In the meantime, check your chip in at the door and let’s hear what Mr. Henderson has to say.”

  “I’m twenty-seven years old,” Henry muttered.

  “Shut up. If I roll my eyes back in my head any further, they’ll pop out.” Jackson let go of Henry’s ear, and Galen Henderson beamed up at Jackson with a beatific smile.

  “Mr. Cramer, do you and Mr. Rivers come as a package deal?”

  “We do,” Ellery said, lifting an eyebrow. “I do the lawyering. He does the investigating.”

  “Excellent. Are you interested in taking the case?”

  “We are,” Ellery said, after eyeball-checking with Jackson first. “But I’m not sure if you’ll need us. So far the police haven’t made contact with anybody but Henry here, have they?”

  Galen shrugged. “Between Henry and Dex, somebody is going to become a person of interest, I have no doubt.”

  Jackson didn’t either, and by the look on his face, neither did Ellery. “Jackson?”

  “I’ll do the legwork. You look up the victim’s record?” Jackson suggested, and Ellery grunted.

  “Are you sure—”

  At that moment, the door burst open and a force of nature blew in. “Gentlemen, I have drinks, and there’s a nice man with a refrigerator to store them in on the way in fifteen, but we need help here!”

  “Excuse me,” Jackson said courteously. Realizing Galen and Ellery needed to speak lawyer-to-lawyer for a moment, he added, “Henry, would you like to remember your manners and help us out here?”

  Henry stood up reluctantly and glowered. “Sure.”

  Jackson turned to his sister. “Jade, my darlin’, we have here our first client. This is Henry Worrall, and the guy talking to Ellery is Galen Henderson. If you can pull out some paperwork and shit, Henry and I will start hauling supplies.”

  Jade—curvy, strong, and vibrantly beautiful from the crown of her straightened magenta hair to the tip of her scarlet-painted toes—had lovely dark brown skin with hints of bronze, round cheeks, and a solid bullshit line between her elegant eyebrows that had been put there by assholes just like Henry.

  “There are drinks in my car, which is parked on the street, and boxes of paperwork in the trunk.” She tossed Jackson the keys to the little Toyota she was driving these days, and Jackson caught them midair.

  “Did Mike not lend you the SUV?” he asked, and she snorted, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.

  “Do you know that thing has no air-conditioning? He can drive that piece of shit to his own damned job. He says the heat is meaningless without humidity. I swear, that man makes Virginia sound like fucking Mordor, the way he talks about summer in the South.”

  “He is not wrong,” Galen said, struggling to his feet. Ellery hopped up and gave him a hand, and Galen shot him a grateful look—and then rolled his eyes at Henry. “Ma’am, pardon me for not rising sooner.”

  Jade’s bullshit line eased as she recognized an attempt at graciousness in a room in which camp chairs were the prevalent furnishings. “Hello there, I’m Jade Cameron, receptionist and paralegal here at….” She paused in the act of shaking Galen’s hand and scowled at Ellery. “What in the hell are we calling this place?”

  “Ellery Cramer, Attorney at Law?” Ellery shrugged. “I mean, that’s what my business cards say.”

  Jade harrumphed. “Those are the interim cards. We need something with a logo—something flashy. But we’ll work on it.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Galen said, dimpling at her. When he smiled deeply, Jackson could see that he had some scarring on his face, partially hidden by longish dark hair and the scruffy beard. “In the meantime, I’m Mr. Galen Henderson, also an attorney but in corporate defense, and my client here is Henry Worrall. And he will help you with your burdens.”

  “Why thank you,” she said, and Jackson loved how she could be all that was gracious in the middle of the chaos in the room. “Jackson’s mostly housebroken—I’m sure they can make themselves useful.”

  Mostly. Mostly he loved how she could be gracious. When she was being gracious, and not being the sister who would throw him under the bus at a moment’s notice.

  “C’mon, Henry,” Jackson muttered. “We’ve got shit to do.”

  Henry gave him a fulminating look, but he followed Jackson out the door, where Jackson skipped the elevator, which was slow as turtle shit, and took the stairs down to the curbside to get to the car.

  “I don’t know why we’re here,” Henry said, as Jackson opened up the car and started shoving cases of water into his arms. “I haven’t even been charged.”

  “Oh, it’s coming,” Jackson said with confidence. He shut the door of Jade’s white Toyota and moved around to the trunk to look for the boxes of paperwork. “Oh, Jade, you lovely woman, you bought soda.” He put the case of soda and one of vitamin water on top of a couple of file boxes, lifted everything out of the back, and managed to shut the trunk with his elbow. “Don’t worry about the cops—they’ll find out just enough about you and your brother to draw the wrong conclusions. Give them two days before they come knocking on your door again. One if Sampson’s got any connections.”

  “His parents are rich,” Henry said, and Jackson nodded.

  “So, tomorrow, then. You may want to warn the guys in the flophouse. If they’ve got any other place to flop, they should go there.”

  Henry let out a breath. “They’re not going to come after my brother, are they? I mean… there’s a little girl there. I… I guess she’s living there because her father was abusive and her mother sort of picked him. Anyway, she’s a cute kid. I don’t want her upset.”

  “But your brother and his husband can go to hell.”

  Henry grunted. “You know, in the house I grew up in, if we talked about a guy having a husband, it was an insult to both of them.”

  “The world’s moving past that bullshit,” Jackson said soberly, leading the way back up the stairs.
“You should too. Being gay’s not a bad thing, you know?”

  Henry let out a bark of bitter laughter. “You should try telling that to my father. He hasn’t said Davy’s name in our house in two years.”

  “Davy?”

  “Dex. It’s weird, Dex was his porn name, I guess, and everybody knows him as Dex here. The only ones who call him Davy are me and his….” Henry let out a breath as they cleared the landing on top of the stairs. “His husband,” he said in mild defeat.

  “Is Kane his real name too?”

  “No. It’s Carlos. It’s….”

  Jackson paused with his hand on the doorknob, his load of boxes balanced against his shoulder, while Henry said something human.

  “What?”

  “It’s like they call each other their real names as an endearment. Like they’re the only two people who know who they are. And a part of me wants to think it’s sweet, but a part of me feels….”

  The doorknob turned under Jackson’s hand, and he almost fell through and lost the load of crap in his arms. He gained his balance and made it inside, and by the time he’d set the boxes on the counter and the cases of beverage on the floor, Henry was back to scowling again and looking irritated he was even there. Not even a vitamin water could cheer him up, but Jackson downed his thankfully. The pavement was steaming outside and it wasn’t even noon yet.

  And in the back of Jackson’s head, he kept hearing that final word from Henry, as if he’d said it under his breath just when chaos had erupted.

  Jackson couldn’t be sure, but he thought the word was guilty.

  Esquire

  A YEAR ago, before he’d worked closely with Jackson and seen his compassion for everybody—recovering addicts, prostitutes, spacey psychics, damaged warriors, everyone—Ellery would have regarded Galen Henderson with a great deal of suspicion. And that would have been a shame.

  Galen was as Southern gentleman as Ellery was Massachusetts liberal—both of them bred from the cradle to do something serviceable and honorable with their lives and their profession as they grew. Whatever Galen’s story was, and of course Ellery was curious, that didn’t stop Ellery from admiring his sharp presentation of the facts and the extent of his organization as he listed home and business contacts for the people Ellery or Jackson would need to interview on top of giving Ellery some gentle pointers about running his own law firm.

  “So, you have the paperwork for us to fill out ready?” he asked, as though this was a test Ellery needed to pass.

  “I have your forms right here, Mr. Henderson,” Jade gushed, pulling a clipboard out of the box Jackson had carted up. It had the forms Ellery and Jade had hammered out the month before, the clearances, the permissions, the form promising to pay Ellery’s retainer and the fee sheet for Ellery’s time as a lawyer, as well as Jackson’s time spent on the case. Jackson’s name wasn’t going on the door, but Ellery knew from the last year that he didn’t want to do his job without Jackson’s help doing what he did best.

  Galen scanned each form before he signed it and then twinkled up at Jade. “Your organization is perfection, my dear. I worked in Miami Beach at Spencer, Cohen, and Harris, and I have to tell you that this is some of the cleanest paperwork I’ve seen.”

  Jade beamed at Ellery. “I like him,” she said, nodding vehemently, and Ellery held back a flash of resentment. It had taken her months to warm up to Ellery, and he was pretty sure that if Jackson hadn’t followed him when he’d been let go from Pfeist, Langdon, Harrelson, and Cooper, Jade would have been still working there—maybe a little sad, but not devastated.

  “Of course you do,” he said mildly. “Jackson, did you get everything from the car?”

  “One more load,” Jackson said. “Henry.”

  Ellery watched as Henry followed Jackson outside again, his permascowl not even lightened fractionally by the shared task.

  “Well, isn’t he special,” Ellery muttered under his breath.

  “You have no idea,” Galen responded, because his mild limp didn’t seem to impede his hearing in the least.

  Ellery glanced at him sharply. “Do tell?” He tried to keep his shark sense from tingling, but Galen’s droll look told him he’d failed miserably.

  “My boy, do you have no idea how gossip works at all? You are supposed to wait until the second time I come to visit your office—wherein I shall comment on the lovely décor that will undoubtedly be here in place of this rather temporary setup that is not your fault because we surprised you, of that I am aware. Then, while you are occupied with your next client, or with the delightful Mr. Rivers, who does cut a fine figure without his shirt, I would casually engage your lovely receptionist in conversation, dish everything to her, and she would relay the information to you.”

  Ellery choked on a sip of warm water at the mention of Jackson and continued to cough as Henderson finished. “I’m sorry?”

  “What? About you and Mr. Rivers? Did you want that to be a secret? You failed.”

  Ellery took another sip of water so he could stop choking on the last one. “You caught us unaware, like you said.” Oh, how embarrassing. He and Jackson had been sleeping together for months while working at Pfeist, Langdon, Harrelson, and Cooper, and Langdon had only begun to suspect toward the end because Jackson had dropped off the grid and Ellery was losing his mind. “We are usually very professional.”

  Galen’s snort was far more elegant than Ellery’s choke. “You may be,” he said. “But your Mr. Rivers is exactly who he is, and that’s a good thing. Trust me. I have one of those. Don’t trade him for gold.”

  “I won’t, or for information. So when would I ask you about Henry?”

  “You,” Henderson said distinctly, “have no finesse.”

  Ellery just looked at him. “I win cases. What’s his damage?”

  Galen’s eyes flickered up to the closed door, and Ellery looked over his shoulder, where he could see out the window, down to where Jackson and Henry were still unloading the car.

  “You’ve got two minutes,” he said lowly. “We need to know.”

  Galen’s grimace was not reassuring. “I know you do. And I know it’s going to come up. It’s just that it’s personal. Dex only knows because he got a phone call from someone in the family. If the boy finds out Dex told me, it could make everything… worse.”

  Ellery opened his mouth to press, and the door opened, revealing AJ, struggling under a mountain of packages and grocery bags. Ellery popped to his feet, going in for the assist.

  “Sorry, Mr. Cramer,” AJ murmured, spilling bags into Ellery’s arms. “It’s just Jade said I needed to hurry because we had clients, and I know the fridge and furniture people are coming and—”

  “No worries,” Ellery told him, working hard to project gentleness. Usually he failed miserably at it, but with AJ—maybe because he’d seen AJ at the lowest moment of his life and the young man had worked so hard to climb out of that hellhole—he managed not to scare the kid shitless 90 percent of the time. “Here. Let’s get this behind the desk where the fridge is going to go. AJ, this is Galen Henderson, a fellow lawyer and friend to our first client. Galen, this is AJ, our gopher and go-to guy, who is pretty much helping us out for free until we can afford to pay him.”

  AJ was slightly built, with mixed genetics—skin of pale ochre, dark freckles, and tightly curled hair the color of a faded sunset. He gave Galen a shy smile and ducked his head.

  “Nice to meet you. It’s more fun to work here,” AJ said, turning that smile to Ellery, and Ellery tried for a wink. He didn’t fail too badly, because the kid didn’t jerk back in disgust.

  “Jackson will be up in a minute,” Ellery told him. “He was painting the reception area, but I think he’s going to have to go make some calls after he and Henry come back up.”

  AJ nodded. “I’ll finish up the kitchen so it’s ready for the fridge.”

  With that he turned abruptly, probably anxious to get away from the stranger who was regarding him as mildly and unoffensi
vely as possible.

  Ellery turned back toward Galen, hoping to get Henry’s backstory before Henry got back upstairs, only to find Galen regarding him thoughtfully.

  “So about Henry—what?”

  “I’m just… pleased,” Galen said cryptically. “I contemplated not returning to law, you know. I was out of the game for a few years after a motorcycle accident.” Which explained his careful walk and the scars on his face. “But I took the bar when I came out here to join John, just in case he needed help.”

  “Why’d you leave?” Ellery couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

  “I usually don’t like lawyers.”

  Ellery’s mouth dropped open, and at that moment, the guys came back in with one more load of file boxes and cleaning supplies, arguing hotly.

  “I don’t see why!” Henry snarled as Jackson opened the door. “Why do you gotta go poke your nose into everybody’s business? I’d just as soon none of them even know I’m fuckin’ here!”

  “Well, I’m sure your brother would just as soon you not be, you shitkicking little punk. But if we want to keep you out of jail, we need to have an idea, at least, of who else might have killed your drug-dealing scumbag and what the people around you were doing when he died. So yes, I’m going to go talk to your brother and his boss and your roommates at gay-fucking-topia, because that’s my job. And if I’m not mis-fucking-taken, your lawyer just talked to my lawyer, engaging our services for me to do that exact goddamned thing. Suck it up, buttercup, because whatever nasty crawly secrets you’ve got, I’m about to kick over the rock they’re hiding under.”

  Henry barged in, past Jackson, and dropped his boxes in the middle of the room without ceremony.

  “Galen, I’m fucking out of here!” he bellowed.

  Galen cocked his head, raised his eyebrow, and looked actively bored. “I have the car keys, Henry. Enjoy the walk.”

  Henry pulled up short, his chest pumping, sweat running down his back from his short time outside, because the day was that ugly. “Fuck.”

  “Mr. Rivers?” Galen smiled charmingly at Jackson. “If you would like, I can give you a ride to the offices. I do believe John is there, so you may speak to him. But you will have to catch Dex and Kane at home later this evening. They’re currently at a volunteer event for Kane’s niece.”