Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You (v1.2) (28 page)

“A fight?” Quinn repeated, lowering himself onto the couch. “No, why do you ask?”

With one eye on the television screen, Gary said, “I dunno. Just that Brandy would barely let me in the apartment, pushing me out as I tried to talk to her, and then I saw Shelley for a moment and she looked kind of like she’d been crying. Oh, and you’re drunk. That’s the other reason I—
Well, awright!
Home run ties it up!” He punched a fist toward the ceiling. “Go, Phils!”

Quinn decided that twelve aspirin would probably be overkill, and headed for the kitchen to down three with a glass of water.

Either the aspirin or the first real food he’d eaten all day helped rid him of the worst of his headache by the time the Phillies had outlasted the Pirates in the bottom of the ninth, and Quinn suddenly realized the last thing he wanted was for Gary to leave, leaving him alone.

He had to talk to someone. Grady was out. Maisie was out. Brandy wasn’t even an option. That left Gary.

He looked at the guy’s simple, open face, that perpetual smile. Gary Mack was a great, big, muscle-bound teddy bear. He was also Brandy’s fiance, and Brandy had the sort of mouth Quinn’s grandmother used to say “ran on wheels.”

Brandy knew about Shelby. Quinn would bet on that. And if Brandy knew, odds were that Gary knew. And, pulling the thread of his thought all the way through, if Gary knew, then Gary might be able to help him. Or at least listen to him.

“Gar,” he began, picking up the remote and clicking off the postgame show, “may I confide in you? I mean, I don’t want to make you slit your palm and swear it on your blood or anything, but can I count on you to keep what I say just between the two of us?”

Gary looked blank for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“You won’t tell Brandy?”

“Brandy? Naw. If I told her she’d just ask questions and then get mad at me because I didn’t think to ask those questions, and then I’d ask her if she thought I was stupid and she’d say of course you’re not stupid but you sure are
thick,
and we’d end up in a big fight. I don’t tell Brandy lots of things, Quinn. It’s easier that way. Besides, she talks enough for the both of us.”

So Quinn told him. He was still just drunk enough to tell him. He told Gary everything, then sat back and waited for the man to react.

That took a while, but it was worth it.

“A bodyguard, right?” Gary said at last “Like with guns and armored cars and terrorists and stuff? Yeah, sure, it would have to be. Cool.”

Quinn shrugged and smiled. Obviously Gary still hadn’t gotten the point. But he had faith in the man. He’d get around to it sooner or later.

So Quinn kept his silence and Gary thought some more. “I don’t know about ethical and all of that, but sleeping with the girl you’re supposed to be protecting? That sounds downright dangerous to me, if she finds out. Except I guess you’ve already thought of that—a little late, but you’ve thought of it. Man, if Shelley’s anything like Brandy, you’re a dead man.”

“Thanks,” Quinn said, and waited some more. Watching Gary Mack think was a real experience. He could almost see the thought processes moving along, slowly gathering themselves until there were enough to come to a conclusion. It was a slow process, rather like watching molasses make its way to the neck of the bottle, but fascinating.

Gary studied his fingers, touching one against the other, counting off facts, assembling them for distillation, distribution. “How can she not believe he’s been lying to her when he
has
been lying to her? How can she say she hasn’t been lying to him, because she
has
been lying to him? And this Parker guy? What if he
is
the bad guy, not just a jerk who doesn’t deserve her? What if he isn’t?”

While Gary paused, chewing at his bottom lip, Quinn got up and got the man another beer.

“Can’t say he loves her, because that could be a lie, too. Gotta protect her, watch her.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t have made love to her. Shouldn’t have said anything about love. And she’s leaving, too, after the dinner for the memorial. Man, this is confusing. I don’t—”

“Whoa, back up, would you, Gary?” Quinn said, sitting front on the edge of the couch. “Shelby’s leaving after the dinner this Friday? Are you sure?”

Gary clapped a hand over his mouth for a moment and rolled his eyes desperately. “I don’t think I was supposed to say that, was I? No, I’m sure I wasn’t. But I promise, Quinn, I won’t make the same mistake with Brandy. Promise.”

“I believe you, Gary,” Quinn said, not believing him at all. “And when you don’t say anything to Brandy, make sure she understands that, if she believes I really love Shelby, want to marry her, and I do, she won’t say anything to her. Okay?”

Gary’s eyes slid back and forth as he repeated Quinn’s words in his head. “You got it,” he said at last. “And I sure do need this beer, because I understood that.”

Quinn and his headache woke at nine-seventeen the next morning. He knew that because he looked at his bedside clock, then all but jumped out of bed, already knowing he was too late to take Shelby to breakfast at Tony’s.

Holding one hand to his throbbing head, he searched for his pants, then remembered that he had to answer the continuing knocks at the door.

Shelby?

No, he doubted that.

Mrs. Brichta?

No, she’d use her key, the way she did the other day, to find him coming out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around him. She hadn’t apologized, eidier, only told him she hadn’t had such a great “cheap thrill” in years, then started dusting the living room furniture.

His mouth dry, and tasting as if he’d been chewing sweaty socks, Quinn stabbed his fingers through his hair as he blinked, shook himself like a wet puppy, and positioned himself in front of the closed door. “Who’s there?”

“A friend. Now open the damn door and get me out of this hallway,
friend,
or I can safely assure you that we’re both going to rue the day we were born into this mortal coil.”

Quinn’s eyes opened wide, letting in entirely too much light for a man suffering a hangover. He unlocked the door, pulled it open, and glared at the man standing there with a smile on his face and a suitcase in his hand. “Uncle Alfred?”

Alfred Take swept past the stunned Quinn, deftly kicking the door shut with his foot. “One and the same, dear boy. Oh, my. You look like I usually do in the morning. Drink’s the very devil, son. Stay away from it; that’s my advice. Now, where do I put this?”

“Where do you put it?” Quinn shook his aching head. “Don’t make me answer that; you wouldn’t like it.”

“Ah, not a happy drunk, I see.”

“Not a drunk at all, damn it,” Quinn protested, sinking onto the couch, one hand still pressed against his forehead. “I haven’t had that much beer in one sitting since college. And I’m never going to drink that much again. I only wish I could believe I’m hallucinating, and you aren’t really here. Other people get pink elephants, you know. Why do I have to see grinning Taites?”

“It’s because of your good heart,” Uncle Alfred said, looking around the small apartment. “I suppose this isn’t the foyer, is it?”

Quinn chuckled in spite of himself. “Nope. This is it. Except for one small bedroom. Which doesn’t matter, suitcase or not, because you aren’t staying here. Not that you were thinking about that, right?”

Uncle Alfred walked over to the couch, bent down, and pushed on the cushions. “Ah, uncomfortable enough to be a pullout.” He waved a hand at Quinn. “Stand up. That’s a good boy.” Then, as Quinn watched, the two floral cushions hit the floor and Uncle Alfred pointed to the pullout bed with some satisfaction. “I’ve slept on worse. You should do very well here, my boy.”

“You’re not—An not… Oh, hell,” Quinn said, picking up the cushions and replacing them before he sprawled on the couch once more. “Okay, I’ve fought it long enough. Guess it’s time for the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. Why are you here?”

Uncle Alfred’s grin was wicked behind his natty silver beard and mustache. “I thought you’d never ask.” He motioned for Quinn to remove his feet from one cushion, then joined him on the couch, carefully pulling up his slacks so not to ruin the knife-sharp crease in the navy material. “I’ve been tossed out on my ear, actually. Somerton has threatened it often enough but, thanks to my dearest niece, he has at last turned threat to fact. Obstinate boy, Somerton, and nearly insufferably smug since he punched old Westbrook in the chops.”

Quinn stared at the older man for a few moments, trying to make his brain work at least a little bit. “Coffee,” he said at last. “I need coffee. About two gallons of it. Care to join me?”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Uncle Alfred said, standing up and trailing after Quinn as he made his way to the efficiency kitchen that was, in truth, still a part of the living room. He sat himself down at one of the two stools at a small serving bar, pulled a silver flask out of his pocket, and placed it in front of him. “I take mine black, dear boy, with a chaser. Although I don’t suppose I could interest you in a… what do the lower orders call it? Oh, yes, of course. Would you care to join me in a
belt?”

Quinn eyed the silver flask as he loaded the coffeemaker. “You probably put that stuff on your cornflakes.” Then he walked around the bar and perched himself on the second stool. “Talk to me, Uncle Alfred. Talk slowly, and don’t raise your voice. But talk to me.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Uncle Alfred said. “I hadn’t known you had this flair for the melodramatic, son. Oh, very well, I suppose if I must, I must. It would seem that I’m, er, financially embarrassed. That’s dead broke, to you, and more in debt than I care to think about this early in the morning. I am also between allowance checks, which is highly embarrassing, and dangerous, when one considers to whom I am in debt, if you catch my drift. Catch my drift. My, I’m doing very well with the vernacular, aren’t I? Must have something to do with all that consorting I do with those nasty gambling types.”

Enough coffee had dripped into the pot to send Quinn over to the counter, pulling the pot aside and replacing it with his cup, which he watched fill as he replayed Uncle Alfred’s words in his head. After filling a cup for the older man, too, he replaced the pot and returned to the serving bar.

“You’re broke, you’re in debt to some gamblers, you’re between allowances, and Somerton threw you out on your ear. That much I understand. What I don’t understand is why this is Shelby’s fault, and why the hell you’re
here.”

Uncle Alfred took a sip of coffee, then followed it with a sip from his flask. “Ah, that’s better. I haven’t had a nip since Jim drove me here in the limousine. Can’t go off into oblivion, I say, unless you travel in style. Not us Taites, anyway. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. If your head weren’t so clogged with drink, son, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“No, I wouldn’t have,” Quinn said, drinking deeply of the coffee, cursing as he scalded his tongue. “I would never, not in a million years, be able to figure out why in hell, of all the places you could have gone, you’ve shown up here in East Wapaneken.”

Uncle Alfred took a last sip from the flask, then returned it to his pocket. “Somerton believes that his sister is a heroine of sorts. A true Taite. Independent, fiercely so, and able to stand up on her own two feet, find herself— Lord help us—
employment,
and make her own way in the world. I, on the other hand, am an embarrassment to the Taites, pure and simple. So when I asked Somerton for an advance on my allowance, just a piddling twenty thousand, he said no. Absolutely, positively no. I was to do as Shelby has done: go out in the world, fend for myself, and come back with a paycheck made out to me in my own name. Then, and only then, will he take me back into the Taite fold. So, considering how fertile the—what do you call it, the job market?—is here in East Wapaneken, it seemed quite natural that I toddle off here. I have a relative here, I have a friend here—that’s you, son—and my friend has an apartment here. It was the only logical step, truly.”

Quinn looked at the man through slitted eyelids. “I’ll tell you what’s logical. Who’s after you?”

Uncle Alfred reached for his flask, then thought better of it. “Well, so much for dulled wits. That’s very astute of you, son, surely. But not to worry. They couldn’t have possibly followed me here. I mean, who’d come
here?”

“You were driven here in the Taite limo, Alfred. I suppose it never occurred to you that whoever you owe this piddling twenty thousand to just might have had someone watching the estate?”

“Oh, dear,” Uncle Alfred said, and this time he did take the flask out of his pocket. “I hadn’t thought of that. Do you really think I’ve been followed? I mean, what are the odds?”

“I don’t gamble, Alfred,” Quinn said, walking over to the counter and tossing the remainder of his coffee into the sink. “And I don’t think you were unaware that you could have been followed. After all, you didn’t go to Shelby, did you? No, you came to me, the Taite bodyguard. I’m supposed to keep you safe from the knee-breakers for the next ten days, aren’t I?”

Uncle Alfred picked an invisible bit of lint from the sleeve of his brand-new golf shirt—just the sort of thing he believed would make him inconspicuous in East Wapa-neken. “I do hope Somerton pays you enough, son. You’re definitely worth every penny. Oh, and don’t worry about Shelby. I’m sure to see her soon enough, and I will quickly take her aside and explain that I, on my own, figured out where she was after talking with Jim, and have come to support her in my way, and have an adventure of my own. She’ll believe me. She’s a good girl; she always believes me.”

“Uh-huh,” Quinn said, having his doubts, but keeping most of them to himself. “But how are you going to explain staying here, in my apartment? Which you’re not going to be doing, by the way.”

“You don’t want me? Well, I’m crushed. However, I did speak with the most delightful woman downstairs, and she told me there’s an apartment just like yours available on the third floor. Can you believe it, son—there’s no elevator in this building. Shocking! Now, if you wouldn’t mind advancing me a month’s rent, I’m sure I could be out of your way in no time at all.”