“WHERE WERE YOU?” I asked.
“What do you mean, where was I?” Lawrence said. “I was hiding. Did you want me to sit on the hood of your car?”
I waved at him dismissively. “Okay, you’re brilliant. But thanks for keeping a watch on things.”
Lawrence Jones shrugged. “Everything looked pretty harmless. You hardly needed me around. From where I was watching, the guy appeared to be doing a bit of blubbering. They seem a lot less threatening when they’re blubbering.”
“He unloaded,” I said. “Sorry if I dragged you out here for nothing.”
Another shrug. “Whatever. I only had to cancel some highly lucrative corporate surveillance stuff to do this.”
Lawrence was looking, as usual, trim and fit and immaculately turned out. Even to hide in the bushes and keep a watch over me, he wore perfectly tailored black slacks, leather shoes, and a dark green windbreaker with a Hugo Boss emblem stitched to the collar. This one outfit was worth more than everything in my closet.
I’ve known Lawrence a couple of years now. I was doing a feature on a day in the life of a private detective, and Lawrence, a former cop who’d gone out on his own, had agreed to let me tag along with him. That encounter turned into much more trouble than either of us ever expected, and nearly left my new friend dead. Lawrence credits me with saving his life. Not because I warded off his attackers. I just showed up in time to get him to the hospital before he lost his last drop of blood.
And more recently, he’d been there for me, and my father, when my dad was having a bit of trouble with his neighbors.
“I’m starting to worry that I’m becoming a nuisance,” I said.
“Becoming?” Lawrence said.
I smiled. “You got time for a coffee? I’m buying.”
“I’d rather you bought me lunch,” he said. “You mess up my day and think you can make it all better with a coffee?”
He had to go back and get his car, so we agreed to rendezvous at a nearby diner. He ordered an open-faced roast beef sandwich and mashed potatoes, smothered in gravy. With coffee. I got a BLT with extra mayo.
“So,” Lawrence said, “you keeping out of trouble?”
How could you not laugh?
I gave him the quickest possible summary. Trixie missing. Body in basement. Me handcuffed next to it. The Flint investigation. Possibly a couple of stun gun–selling bikers on Trixie’s tail. It appeared that she had a daughter she’d never told us about. Me suspended from the paper. Sarah demoted. Wasn’t sure she still wanted me around the house. Paul fired from his job. Nasty Russian ladies putting people’s fingers into deep fryers.
“Other than that,” I said, “things are pretty good.”
Lawrence’s expression never changed the whole time. He kept eating his roast beef and mashed potatoes. Finally he put down his fork, picked up his napkin, and daintily dabbed at the corners of his mouth.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I’m doing?” he asked.
I waited a moment. “How are things with you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Pretty good. Kent and I are still off and on.” Kent, who owned a restaurant in the city, and Lawrence had been seeing each other for a couple of years. “Work is good. Fairly steady. Like I said, I’ve got some corporate stuff. They throw money around like nobody else.” He waved the waitress over for a coffee refill.
He sipped some, ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, and said, “You are seriously fucked up.”
“Yes.”
Lawrence shook his head back and forth sadly. “Even by your standards, you are seriously fucked up.”
“Yes,” I said again. “I can see why you’re a topnotch investigator. You size things up right away.”
Lawrence put another forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “You need any help?”
“I don’t want to impose,” I said.
Lawrence grinned. “Really, if you run into some trouble, give me a shout.” The grin faded. “I’ve told you this before, so I won’t get all mushy on you. But every day I’m around, since that night, I owe to you. You’re annoying, kind of a pain in the ass, but if you need me to cover your back, I’m there.”
I allowed the corner of my mouth to go up a notch. “You’re not going to hug me, are you?” I asked.
Lawrence shoveled in some roast beef.
“Ewww,” he said.