Diversion 1 - Diversion (18 page)

“I dont want to do this! You had no right to tell her wed go.” Bo stood with his hands on his hips in the middle of their shared bedroom, lips pursed like hed bitten a lemon.

“This is too good an opportunity to pass up. A chance to get inside Ryersons house without a search warrant. Are you kidding? Walter will be over the moon.”

Lucky scrubbed his hand down his face. He should have known hed get an argument. “Itd be mighty strange if I showed up without you, dont ya reckon? Why are you dead set against going?”

Bo mumbled something Lucky couldnt make out.
“Is it cause you dont want to be „out and proud with me?” For some reason, Bo not wanting to be seen with him hurt a little more than Lucky thought it ought to.
“No, its just…” Again Bo spoke too softly to hear
“Whats that?” They faced off over a distance of a few feet. No way in hell would Lucky back down, not on something this important. Why did the possibility of Bo not wanting to be seen together bother him?
“Oh, fuck it! If you need me to come out and say it: you were right.”
“Of course I was right! Umm…about what, in particular?”
Bo shook his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. “About getting involved with the folks I work with. To you theyre
suspects
, to me theyre Hank, Linda, Bobby…”
Oh shit. Not good. Lucky recalled his early days as Walters flunky. Had he ever gotten too close to a subject? Well, no. Only because he didnt generally get close to anyone. “Do you need me to call Walter, tell him you cant do it?”
“No!” Bo shouted. More quietly he repeated, “No. I cant…I mean…”
Without quite knowing how it happened, Lucky found himself across the room, Bo enfolded in his arms. “Its a job, man. A job. This isnt your real life. You cant see them as friends, you cant get involved. Its hard for some people, and to be honest, many dont last six months in this line of work. But youve got it in you.”
God but the man felt right in his arms.
Hes not the only one whos getting too close.
Lucky told himself he was merely doing what hed been assigned to do, making sure his replacement didnt cop out.
Liar.
Lucky heard what sounded suspiciously like a sniff.
Bo pulled away first. “Youre right, youre right. I gotta remember the kid who ODd, and those shelves full of shit that shouldnt be there.”
“Good. Now lets get ready to go. Ummm…do you have Ryersons address or should I check her file.”
“She lives out Ponderosa way.”
Oh shit! Ponderosa? Why the hell did it have to be Ponderosa. Lucky suddenly found himself wishing
he
didnt have to go.

“Where are we going? Beverlys house is down there.” Bo tapped a finger against his iPads display, nodding in the opposite direction. Did he have to call the woman “Beverly?” Whatever happened to keeping objectivity?

“Im checking out the neighborhood for security reasons,” Lucky improvised. His stomach had somersaulted when Bo first told him Ryersons address. While in the neighborhood, he couldnt resist poking a finger into an old wound. Itd been over ten long years—what if the house wasnt there anymore? He passed the address twice before finally locating Victors former vacation home. He pulled into the drive of the empty house next door.

For five years he and Victor had shunned business to vacation there together. Just the two of them, lounging around the pool, dining out at the citys best restaurants. Theyd even gone to Epcot on occasion. If the DA had seen them as “a married couple in everything but name,” theyd even spent their honeymoon there.

He almost didnt recognize the house— it appeared much smaller and not nearly as well-kept. Insteadof Victors prized Roadster, a Ford Minivan sat in the circular drive, not that Victor would leave his precious baby outside for long. Itd be nestled safe and sound in one bay of the double garage. The orange trees that had once flanked the backyard were gone. Lucky missed them. Several times when theyd stayed there the trees were in full bloom, and Lucky opened up every window to let their fragrance fill the house. Victor laughed, calling him a romantic, but left the windows open.

A light came on in the upstairs bedroom, a body silhouetted in the window. It wasnt Victors. And it wasnt Luckys. Those days were over and gone. The ghostly images of Victor distorted, Bo inserting himself into the memories. Lucky tried to picture Victor sunning himself in achair by the pool, but his mind wouldnt cooperate, wouldnt form a clear picture. Instead it offered up Bo, eyes twinkling, The Dimple firmly in place as he offered Lucky a rum and Coke from the poolside bar.

Lucky shook himself, casting off his fabricated recollections. A hand fell to his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He attempted a smile. “Neighborhoods safe. We can go to the doctors now.”
“Youre lying, and if you dont want to tell me, thats okay.” Bo leaned in and offered a kiss of reassurance. His mouth carried the lingering flavor of green tea, and the scent of his familiar cologne soothed Luckys frazzled nerves. Thered never be another perfect week spent in that house, but Lucky grabbed and held onto the perfect moment in the car with someone who recognized his hurting and wouldnt push as to the why. God, after only knowing him a few weeks, Lucky would miss the hell out of Bo once their assignment ended.
“Wed better get on to the party.” Bo spoke quietly, reaching out to clasp Luckys hand. Lucky stared at their fingers, locked together. “What? Were pretending to be a couple, right?”
Yeah, like youre not trying to give me what I need right now.
Silently grateful, Lucky gave Bos fingers a squeeze and released his hand long enough to shift the car and back out of the driveway. Their hands were joined when they arrived at Ryersons mini- mansion.
“How wonderful you two came!” Ryerson exclaimed, air- kissing beside Lucky and Bos heads. “Boys, Id like you to meet my dear friend, Claude Elledge.”
Up close, mingling with the crowd, the man who Lucky suspected of being a low-rent Victor clone appeared benign on the surface, and bore more than a passing resemblance to his happygo-lucky nephew, Lee. However, there was a stern set to his mouth, and “meanness in his eyes,” as Charlotte used to say. He didnt appear to recognize Lucky.
“Gentlemen,” Elledge said, proprietary arm keeping Ryerson close. He extended his other hand and Lucky spotted the twin halfmoon cuts on the back, suspiciously similar to claw marks. Ryerson held herself stiffly, keeping an inch or two between her and Elledges bodies. Ah, maybe she was the one experiencing a little trouble in paradise.
They exchanged pleasantries, the doctor playing gracious hostess and showing them around her massive Spanish revival home. Back in his Victor days, Luckyd rubbed elbows with a lot of well-to-do types and had gained a pretty good idea of what things like those weathered urns and massive doors cost. Hell, just because the legs on the plank table in the kitchen were sort-of chewed up didnt mean the good doctor was economizing—that wasa genuine Spanish antique, if he didnt miss his guess, and might even be the same one Victor had bent him over while explaining how to tell a real one from a fake. She could have paid for a round or two of her husbands chemo with it, except someone in health care might have gotten adequate enough insurance coverage that her husbands extended illness didnt suck her dry.
Or she could be in debt up to her eyeballs. Even her dizzying schedule of ten appointments an hour would hardly bill out enough to pay for such a lavish home. According to the reports Lucky read, Dr. Ryersons husband left behind a modest life insurance policy and a heavily financed business.
A young woman approached, begged their pardon, and whispered into the doctors ear. Ryersons bright smile fell. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I need to go check on my children. They dont care for large parties.”
Two adorable towheads waited in the hallway, miniature copies of their mother. One appeared about six years old, the other a year or two older. The younger girl clutched a teddy bear. Lucky pictured his nephews, wondering how much theyd grown since hed last seen them. Ryerson took each girl by the hand and disappeared down the hall. Thankfully, Elledge wandered off as well. Lucky didnt relish spending too much time in the mans company, though he did remain close enough to catch tidbits of conversation. Nothing to help his case, however.
Dr. Ryerson returned a few moments later, good humor somewhat restored. “Sorry, I guess its obvious who the bosses are in this house.” She loosed a strained giggle. “Now, lets eat, shall we?” Rather than a full sit-down dinner, the meal was served buffet style, with guests perching wherever they found an empty seat.
Coworkers came and claimed Bo, who assured Lucky, “Ill be right back,” leaving Lucky alone with the doctor.
Ryerson watched Bo disappear into the crowd, tossing an occasional backward glance over his shoulder,and sighed. “Loves a funny thing, isnt it?”
Lucky did a doubletake. “Excuse me?”
Love? The ultimate four-letter word?
“My husband used to look at me like you two look at each other. I miss that.”
What the fuck?
She gave him her best sad little girl eyes. He imagined violins playing in the background. “I met Claude a year after Jacob died.” She sighed again, but this time it wasnt a breathy “Scarlett OHara in love with Ashley Wilkes” sigh. It was more how Lucky sighed when Walter told him to do something he didnt want to do. Did she consider Elledge a necessary evil?
Gazing past where Lucky stood, Ryerson gasped, and Lucky turned, following her line of sight.
“Now what the hell is he doing here?” she asked, displeasure pursing her trademark red lips.
Lucky shrank back, hiding behind a large flower arrangement. Standing in the foyer, exchanging heated words with Elledge, was none other than Orange-tie-guy, general manager of the now closed Raleigh division of Regency Pharma.
A group of women passed between Lucky and the door, and he ducked behind them, working to keep up with Ryerson. Though she tried to appear casual, Lucky recognized her single-minded determination to reach the newcomer quickly.
Her brightlypainted fingernails sank into the mans arm and he flinched, but didnt pull away. Ryerson bared her teeth and hissed something too low for Lucky to hear, dragging Orange-tie-guy toward the door. She and the two men disappeared outside, and Lucky counted to three before making a beeline for the front door to peer through a crack.
If he hadnt seen her with his own eyes, hed swear the woman he heard outside wasnt the doctor. Gone was the girlishness, replaced by a hard-asnails businesswoman. “What are you doing here? Havent I told you never to come here? Youll get your payment!”
“Beverly, the Feds are hounding me. Its only a matter of time before they piece things together. Theres nothing connecting me to you. Youll get off scot-free. I need you to get me to the Caymans. Help me get on a plane or a boat and Im out of your hair.” Lucky winced at Orange-tieguys grating, nails-on-ablackboard nasally whine.
“Theres nothing that I can do about that right now.” Ryerson never spoke above conversational level, but the ice in her tones sent chills upLuckys spine.
“Beverly…” The husky interruption sounded like Elledge.
“Dont „Beverly me, Claude. Listen,” she commanded in a voice Lucky couldnt imagine coming from such a dainty southern lady. “If you two dont calm down… Michael, Ive told you a hundred times. Youll have to hold off until Im relocated in Savannah. And for Christs sake dont come to my house, or the clinic. If youre under investigation,
dont
”—that one word slashed with the single-minded efficiency of a knife—“lead them to me.”
A few short minutes of conversation made a few things clear: mainly, Beverly Ryerson called the shots, and also, she intended to move her practice to the other side of the state line, possibly hoping to stay one step ahead of laws that would shut her down.
Lucky eased away from the door. Ryerson and Elledge returned a few minutes later, faces flushed and casting challenging glances at each other. Lucky hightailed it across the room to search for Bo.
He found his partner laughing and chatting with a group of women, one Lucky recognized as the receptionist at the clinic. Bos smile wavered when Lucky joined the group, but recovered quickly.
“Evenin, ladies,” Lucky drawled. “Im afraid I have to steal Will away. Weve got family coming for dinner tomorrow and we gotta get home and start cooking.” Several women voiced sympathy and wished them a happy Thanksgiving.
Hand firmly on Bos arm, Lucky led the way to the front door.
“Shouldnt we tell Beverly goodbye?” Bo asked.
“Not a good idea right now.” He spotted the doctor and her beau across the room, acting as though nothing had happened out of the ordinary. Checking out the massive front windows to ensure the coast was clear, Lucky stepped out into a beautiful Florida evening. Night critters sang from somewhere in the well-kept lawn, reminding him not only of time spent at Victors house down the road, but his parents farm, and lying on a hillside daydreaming with Charlotte.
How did my life come to this?
“Lets get home,” Bo said, taking the key ring from Luckys hand and unlocking the car.
Once they were on the road, Lucky felt it safe to talk. “Remember our meeting at Regency, the guy in the ugly orange tie?” Eyes fixed on the road, he couldnt see Bos expression, but well imagined the furrowed-brow thinking-face the man wore whenever puzzling something out.
“Michael Burnett? The manager of the Raleigh division?”
Trust a newbie to use actual names. Lucky avoided humanizing suspects whenever possible, to better keep a professional, and personal, distance. “He showed up tonight. Ryerson was none too happy about it either. Apparently, hes rather antsy about getting a payment from her and getting out of the country. She mentioned plans to relocate to Savannah.”
“I guess we need to move fast, dont we?”
Lucky nodded.“We should have everything Walter needs at this point. I wonder how long itll take for the lab to analyze those pills I sent him.”
“I gave you some of the best, and worst, of our current stock.”
“I figured as much. But heres the kicker: Burnett met us both at the Regency meeting, though I dont believe he saw us tonight. Ryerson warned him not to come around again, but if he does, you need to get the hell out of Dodge before he sees you.”
“Well, weve got firm connections between Ryersons and Regency viaRx Dispose. Maybe itll be over soon.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
God, I hope so, but…Ill never see you again.
Tomorrow would be Thanksgiving, and for the life of him, Lucky wasnt feeling particularly thankful.
Later, he called Walter, filling him in on the details. Then he tossed and turned, every conceivable form of the assignment blowing up playing out against his closed eyelids, along with the very real fear that hed soon be alone again.
“Cant sleep?” came a sleepy voice from his left.
“Nope. Too much to think about.”
“You havent been sneaking out to Starbucks behind my back, have you?”
“No.”
Bo let out a gusty breath and said, “Roll over on your stomach.”
“Huh? We already—”
“Trust me.”
Lucky obliged, rolling onto his belly. Bo climbed onto his back, perching on Luckys ass. “Fuck the foreplay,” Lucky snorted.
Bo whacked him between the shoulder blades. “Give me a minute, why don cha?” Both hands descended, kneaded the tight muscles in Luckys shoulders.
“Oh damn. Yeah, right there.”
While massaging the tension from Luckys body, Bo crooned soft and low, some old country song about needing somebody. Lucky drifted off to sleep to a hushed southern lullaby.