They’d also had dinner at his house both nights. The first night was Wednesday before the Youth Group meeting and when the boys were gone Rocky had been as jumpy as a cat waiting for Tripp and Jasper to get home. Luckily, Devin was there and entertained her with his own particular blend of cantankerous, flirtatious and hilarious. When the boys got home, though, Raquel interrogated them like she’d been trained by the CIA. Even so, they didn’t have much, it was a Church Youth Group and the boys were getting the lay of the land. But Jasper decided to go to the Saturday afternoon meeting as well before he left Tripp to it. They didn’t try to bag anything with a print. The other kids were surprised to see them there, the Layne boys weren’t Church Youth Group kind of guys, their turning up caused a minor sensation and his sons, rightly, didn’t make any rash moves.
The second night was Thursday and, after dinner, he made Rocky stretch out on the couch with him and watch TV while Tripp took one armchair, Devin the other and Jasper talked on the phone with Keira upstairs while he was supposed to be doing his homework. Rocky didn’t like it but she didn’t fight it, likely because Tripp and Devin were there. She fell asleep with her back to the couch, her cheek to his chest, her arm resting on his abs and her legs tangled with his. And just like eighteen years ago, when he moved after Letterman, she woke, groggy, and he helped her stumble up the stairs, she disappeared in the walk-in closet while he gave her time to change, came out wearing his tee, collapsed in bed and was out in seconds.
But for two days she didn’t give him an in and she didn’t let her guard down for him to knock her off-balance. She played the part but every word, look and step she executed with extreme caution.
And now she was greeting him, excited and happy.
“Hey sweetcheeks,” he greeted back.
“We’re having hot beef sandwiches for dinner,” she informed him and then finished, “with cheese.”
“Sounds good, Roc, but I’m gonna be late.”
There was silence then a disappointed, “Oh.”
Fuck. He liked Rocky excited and happy, he was not a big fan of Rocky disappointed.
“Colt came by, we need to talk,” he explained.
“Um… okay. Are you going to be long?” she asked and Colt moved, Layne looked at him and saw he was leaning forward.
Colt dropped the legal pad in front of Layne and the words, “Do you sweep?” were written on it.
Layne’s eyes went to Colt. He wasn’t talking about the floors. He was talking about bugs.
“Might be awhile,” Layne said to Rocky but his eyes never left Colt as he nodded his head.
Colt sat back and held Layne’s gaze.
Rocky hesitated then replied, “I’ll wrap them up. We’ll take them with us and eat on the road.”
“Perfect, baby,” he murmured. “Gotta go.”
“Okay, Layne. Tell Colt I said hi.”
“Will do, Roc, later.”
“Bye.”
He flipped his phone shut and Colt didn’t hesitate before saying, “It’s clean?”
“It’s clean,” Layne replied, moving the phone in his hand, sliding it between his fingers, end to end, then flipping it around and doing the same. “What’s up?”
“We got a situation,” Colt replied.
“That being?” Layne asked.
“Sean’s sister,” Colt told him and Layne’s brows went up.
“Sean’s sister?”
“She’s got a tumor on her pituitary gland,” Colt answered.
That sucked. Sean was a good man, a good cop, a newer detective in the department, he was young, his sister younger but it would suck that anyone was sick. That said, Colt didn’t need to give him this information and therefore Colt had another reason for giving him this information.
“You’re tellin’ me this because…?” Layne prompted.
“I’m tellin’ you this because it’s benign, it won’t kill her but it messes with her hormones. She’s gotta have replacement therapy her whole life or she’ll feel like shit. She got diagnosed, had neurosurgery where they got most of the tumor but before they got the tumor, it damaged the gland. That’s not unusual, Sean says the damn thing is the size of a pea and it’s not easy, maneuvering up there. They go through the freaking nose.” He shook his head then went on. “But the gland doesn’t work right and she’s not feelin’ better. She’s got two kids, an asswipe of a husband who bagged on her when she started to get sick, before she was even diagnosed. He’s gone and not comin’ back. Now they’re tellin’ her she has to have an injection, she has to take it every day and they say it’ll help her get back on her feet, feel more like herself. She can’t work but part-time, doesn’t have the energy, quality of life is shit, she needs this injection.”
“Okay, Colt, now you’re tellin’ me this because…?” Layne repeated.
“Because, with part-time work, her insurance won’t cover the entirety of the injection and it’s expensive.”
“You takin’ a collection?” Layne asked but he knew he wasn’t.
“They say sometimes it takes as long as six months for it to really kick in. She’s got a good job, pay’s all right, but part-time isn’t gonna cut it. Until she gets back on her feet, goes back to full-time, gets decent insurance, she’s gonna need help and that help’s gonna be expensive.”
Layne stared at Colt and Colt stared back.
Then Layne whispered, “He’s vulnerable.”
He meant Sean. Sean wanted his sister to feel better and her kids’ life to get better.
Which meant he needed money to do it, a lot of it, more than a cop made unless that cop was dirty.
“Someone’s recruiting,” Colt whispered back.
Colt knew about Rutledge. This didn’t surprise Layne, not much got by Colt and Rutledge’s slipshod police work would definitely not be lost on Colt.
Colt also knew about Layne and, more than likely, Merry. This also didn’t surprise Layne.
“I have to let that cool down,” Layne said quietly.
“I get you, that doesn’t mean it’s not still hot,” Colt replied. “You gotta know what you’re workin’ and who you’re up against.”
“You gonna let Sean go down?” Layne asked and this did surprise Layne. Those boys took care of their own, like they were blood brothers. And even if they didn’t, Colt, being Colt, wouldn’t let Sean go down.