Aidan shook his head in self-deprecation. “Hey, this might just be me being neurotic, you know,” he said. “And it’s not like we have a client.”
“I’ll go by the police station,” Jeremy offered. “I’ve gotten to know some of the officers through the Children’s House campaign. I can see if they’ve got anything to suggest. There are still hundreds of people listed as missing from the hurricane, but I’ll concentrate on the more recent cases.”
Aidan nodded. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep on pestering Jon Abel for the time being.”
“As for the house, Aidan,” Jeremy said quietly, “I know you think we’re biting off more than we can handle, but there’s something about the place…Anyway, you don’t have to deal with it if you don’t want to. Zach and I can talk to the carpenters and whoever.”
Aidan shook his head. “It’s my responsibility, too—if we decide we’re keeping it…Oh hell, one way or the other, we know we’re going to do some restoration. First things first. We need a structural engineer. I’m not taking anyone’s word for the soundness of the place, not until we’ve had a pro out,” Aidan said.
“First things first,” Zach agreed.
Aidan leaned back, watching the band again. After a few minutes, he found himself studying an old man who was watching the musicians—and the room—instead. He had a complexion that was more golden than black or brown, and features that indicated a heritage made up of some combination of white, black and Cherokee. There was strength in that face. And sorrow. He was leaning against a pillar to the right of the stage, and something about his relaxed pose suggested that he came here often.
“Know how you can tell these guys are better than most of the bands in town? Because the locals come out to see them,” Jeremy commented, drawing Aidan’s attention away from the stranger. Then he frowned and tensed suddenly.
“What?” Aidan demanded.
“Your medical examiner’s over there, sitting with a bunch cops, including that Hal Vincent guy. He cleans up well. He’s looking a little less like some mad scientist.”
“Jon Abel? Here?” Aidan asked, definitely surprised. He’d figured the guy for a loner, the kind who went home at the end of the day and played in his basement lab.
But Abel was indeed sitting at a table with a group of cops. He was in jeans and a T-shirt, and looked younger than he had earlier in the day. He was wearing contact lenses, apparently, and had actually drawn a comb through his hair. He seemed to be enjoying his time off. No wonder he didn’t want more work than was already pouring in from a city that was still in the process of making a precarious comeback.
“Don’t look now,” Jeremy said, nodding to indicate the side door, “but here comes another one of your pals.”
“My pals?” Aidan asked, confused, then turned to look, despite his brother’s warning.
Jonas was walking in with Matty, his wife of many years.
Sure, the band was good and the locals hung out here. But it was also downright strange, Aidan thought, that they had all ended up in the same place on the same night.
And he began to wonder what the hell was really going on.
4
Jonas was in jeans, too, but they fit as if custom-made and probably bore a designer label. His polo shirt appeared to have been ironed, and his hair was still perfect. Matty was a beauty in matching designer jeans topped by a silk blouse that hugged a body that had probably been good to begin with and then had been nipped and tucked into perfection. Not a platinum-blond hair on her head was out of order.
“Yeah, it’s Jonas, and that’s Matty, his wife,” Aidan said. As he spoke, they saw him. Jonas lifted a hand in greeting and then looked away, obviously tired of his company for the day, and headed over to join the cops. Matty, however, walked over to them. “Hey, if it’s not Aidan Flynn, and these must be your brothers. Jonas told me you guys inherited a house down here. How are you?”
Her body might be largely composed of silicone held together by stitches, but her greeting was sweet and sincere. Aidan rose to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek; his brothers rose, as well, and he made the introductions.
“So, Jonas says you’re going to keep the place!” she said, as Jeremy drew up a chair for her.
“We’re hoping to,” Jeremy said.
“I’m so glad you’re going to live here,” Matty said. “This area needs people who want to be here, who want to work, to make it a community again. And there’s plenty of private security work and stuff here,” she added, her eyes a little troubled as she looked at Aidan. He realized that she felt awkward about Serena. They’d been a foursome often enough during his FBI days, and she knew it was Serena’s death that had been behind his decision to leave the Bureau.
Live here?
He hadn’t actually thought of living here. But then, he hadn’t hung around any one place for long, not even the place he called home, in years. He’d kept moving. Grabbing all the cases that gave him the opportunity to be in a different city.