“You’l come back to testify,” he muttered.
I got up, shook his hand, hooked my purse over my shoulder and walked across the room.
Everyone in the room watched.
Hank, Lee, Eddie and Vance were in a huddle. Vance broke off and walked over to me. The other three turned to look.
“Hey, girl,” Vance said when he arrived in my space, seriously in my space.
I didn’t back away.
“Hey. I need a ride back to Tex’s. Can you take me?” I asked him.
“First, I’l take you to lunch.”
I didn’t want lunch. I hadn’t had breakfast or even any coffee but my stomach was clenched tight knowing Hank’s eyes were on me. I was torn between throwing myself at his feet and begging him to understand, and jumping on him and scratching his eyes out.
Instead, I kept my eyes on Vance and said, “Sounds good.”
Vance turned to The Huddle.
“Keys,” he cal ed to Lee.
Lee threw him a set of keys and Vance caught them. I avoided Hank’s gaze.
Then Vance grabbed my hand and we walked out.
I was concentrating so hard on not tripping or doing anything else idiotic that I didn’t realize the pulse of the room had changed when Vance grabbed my hand.
I also didn’t catch the look on Hank’s face when he saw Vance take my hand, which was good because if I had, I would have tripped for sure.
*
Vance took me to Lincoln’s Road House, a motorcycle bar skirting an off-road on I-25. He settled me at a high barstool at a table. I glanced around, thinking that perhaps I should have changed my outfit. Denver was definitely a jeans town and, at Lincoln’s Road House, jeans were practical y required.
I noted that optional were black leather chaps.
Vance bought me a beer, a pop for himself, got some menus and sat across from me.
“How’re you doin’?” he asked, watching me closely.
“My life’s a total shambles, my body stil aches and I’m pretty certain I’m going to have a scar on my face to remind me daily of this precious time in my life,” I told him. “How’re things with you?”
“Better than you.”
“Vance, honey, that isn’t saying much.”
He smiled.
I crossed my legs, looked at my menu and noticed Vance move out of the corner of my eye. I glanced at him but he was looking over my shoulder.
I turned around and saw Mace enter the bar from the back.
Mace did a chin lift to Vance, got himself a beer and then came over and sat beside me.
He gave me a once over and said, “Nice outfit.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
“I thought you were on a stakeout,” Vance said to Mace.
“Matt relieved me. I hate stakeouts. Fucking boring. Any word from Ike?”
Both Vance and Mace’s eyes slid to me.
I was taking a pul from my beer and I waved my free hand at them. I set the beer on the table and said, “I know about the holding room and the planned ass-kicking. I’m al right with it.”
Mace looked at Vance.
“I think I like her,” Mace remarked.
“Take a number,” Vance replied.
Good God.
“Is anyone going to feed me?” I blurted to stop them talking about liking me.
Vance did his shit-eating grin, then we ordered.
My purse rang so I opened it and grabbed my phone. It said “Annette Cal ing”. I flipped it open.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she said back.
Oh no.
Annette didn’t give her normal greeting. This meant something was wrong.
I got tense. Since I got tense, I felt both Mace and Vance get tense.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“Wel , Jason and I are on our way out there. We’re in bumfuck Iowa, goddess almighty. Iowa.”
She stopped, as if there were no words for Iowa, so I prompted, “And?”
“Wel , we went by your place and it was kind of trashed.” I got even tenser. Vance and Mace were watching me.
“Trashed?”
“Yeah. Your laptop was there and it didn’t look like anything was missing but a lot of stuff was broken, your furniture was slashed. I’m no expert but it looked like someone was looking for something. I got most of your clothes and some other stuff I thought you might want.” I closed my eyes, put my elbow on the table and my head in my hand.
“Thanks, Nettie.”
“We’re gonna see if we can power through. We’l get a hotel or something when we get there. I’l cal you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Be careful and… thanks.”
“Later.”
Then she disconnected and I flipped the phone shut.
Vance and Mace were stil watching me.
“Trashed?” Vance asked.
“My loft. A friend went by to pick up some of my stuff.
She said it looked like someone was looking for something. She said nothing was missing that she could tel . She even got my laptop so they couldn’t have been there to rob me,” I told him.
Vance looked at Mace.
Mace peeled off mumbling, “Gotta make a cal .” I ignored Mace and asked Vance, “Should I be worried?” He stared at me.