In The Enemy's Arms. Pamela Toth

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СКАЧАТЬ trained by their father to deal with important clients. Even though Geoff was younger than Mari, when the two of them were growing up he’d always managed to manipulate her into giving him what he wanted.

      “What’s the condition?” she asked warily.

      “Let me line up the best defense attorney I can find, just in case. You don’t have to worry about the bill.”

      “That’s not the point. I don’t need—” Mari began.

      “But your family needs to do something, okay?” Geoff said. “Something more than playing taxi while we wait for your detective friend to crack the case.”

      She wanted an aspirin. “Okay.” Surely this mess would be cleared up soon—any day now—and her life would return to normal.

      They set a time for him to pick her up in the morning, she asked that he give his bride her love and they said goodbye. After she hung up and took some aspirin, she turned on the television. Perhaps watching a tribe of ordinary people attempt to outplay, outwit and tearfully eliminate each other on some deserted island would put her own life back into perspective.

      Chapter Three

      “Collins! Phone call on line two,” shouted the uniformed deputy filling in for Christine while she took a break.

      Bryce was sitting at his desk with his notes about the Orcadol case spread out before him, but he couldn’t concentrate. An hour had passed since Mari stomped out of the office. He might as well leave, too, for all the work he was getting done.

      Disgusted with himself for letting her walk away, he picked up the receiver and punched the button that was lit up.

      “Detective Collins.”

      “Hey, bro! How ya doin’?”

      His mood dropped another notch. From the giggle that followed Joey’s question, Bryce figured that his younger brother was either high or drunk. Unfortunately, Joey had never met an addictive substance he didn’t like.

      “Hi, Joey. What’s new?”

      “Oh, not much. Just figured I’d check in with my law-abiding big brother.”

      Bryce could hear laughter and rap music in the background. Joey seemed to collect no-good bums and losers. No matter how many times Bryce told himself that he wasn’t responsible for his brother’s behavior, it didn’t wash.

      “You okay?” he asked reluctantly.

      In his opinion, Joey was never okay. The coal mine accident that left their father paralyzed when they were kids had somehow crippled Joey, as well. He had been in and out of juvy for small stuff. Between losing or quitting every job Bryce got him, he’d been arrested for a DUI, shoplifting and possession.

      “Right as rain.” He giggled again.

      “I’m at work, Joey. You must know that, because you called me on the department number. Why didn’t you ring my cell phone like I’ve asked?”

      As soon as the words were out, Bryce winced. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. It wasn’t Joey’s fault that his own day had gone so badly.

      “Sorry, bro. I, uh, I lost your cell number.”

      “No problem,” Bryce replied, struggling for patience. “Let me give it to you again.”

      He rattled it off and then he made Joey repeat it back. Maybe he’d keep it this time. The way he was headed, he’d probably need Bryce’s help.

      “I’m about done here,” Bryce said. “You want to get a bite? We could go to Melinda’s. I’ll buy you a steak.”

      Joey was as gaunt as a greyhound and usually in need of a haircut, but Bryce didn’t care how his brother looked. Perhaps he could talk some sense into him.

      Melinda’s was Binghamton’s version of fancy. The decor was a little dramatic, but the food was reliable. On weekends, the live music alternated between country bands and classic rock, but it would be quiet tonight and they could talk.

      “Nice of you to ask, bro, but I’ve kind of got something going here already. Rain check?”

      Bryce felt a mix of disappointment and relief that added to his guilt. Where had he failed his only sibling?

      “Sure thing. I’ll catch you next time.”

      “One of these days real soon, I’ll be the one picking up the check.” Joey’s voice was hyped. “You wait. Maybe I’ll buy you a car, some fancy wheels to replace that piece of crap you drive now.”

      Joey’s bragging barely registered. He always had some deal going, some shortcut to wealth that never amounted to a hill of black-eyed peas.

      Once again a corrosive mix of guilt, regret and resentment sloshed around in Bryce’s gut like cheap whiskey. “That would be great. Make it red, with a good stereo, okay?”

      “You never listen!” Joey’s mood flipped abruptly, as it often did. “Don’t you p-p-patronize me! I’m gonna show you! I’ll show everyone!”

      Before Bryce could say anything more, the phone slammed down in his ear. Damn, he thought as tension zinged his brain. Another warm and fuzzy Collins family moment.

      He slid open the drawer of his desk, found the battered aspirin bottle clear in the back and shook out two pills. He swallowed them with the rest of his cold coffee. As he shuffled the reports on the Orcadol investigation back into the folder, Hank sidled up to his desk like an overweight crab.

      “When you gonna crack the Orchid case?” he asked loudly, jingling the coins in the pocket of his pants. His free hand rested on his gut as if to hold it up. “Got any leads yet?”

      Hank’s interest was puzzling until Bryce saw that Sheriff Remington’s office door sat open.

      “Save it, Butler,” Bryce replied with a jerk of his thumb. “He’s not paying attention.”

      Hank flushed an unhealthy shade of red.

      “You’ve got the wrong idea,” he blustered. “I’m just trying to help out.”

      A rookie might have been taken in by Hank’s innocent expression and his helpful tone, but Bryce had been around long enough to know better. The other detective had a reputation for easing into a case after the legwork had already been done so he could hog part of the credit.

      Bryce had already been pointedly rude to Hank today and the other detective still had juice with a couple of old-timers in county government. Hank’s other connections were mostly petty criminals and snitches, but antagonizing a fellow cop was never smart. You never knew when you might have to count on him to watch your back.

      “I appreciate the offer.” Bryce kept his expression bland. “Let me get back to you.”

      They exchanged phony smiles before Hank lumbered out to the vending machine in the lobby. Just watching him was enough to sink Bryce’s mood even further.

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