The Square Peg (34 page)

Ben turned toward her arm and rested his head against it for a few seconds.

“Thank you. I don’t know…I don’t know what we’re going to do. About the bar,

and…there’s insurance, but—”

“Stop,” Shelly said, encouraging him to his feet and toward the hallway. “It’s

okay. Don’t worry about it now.”

It was a generous, kind attitude to have considering her job had just gone up in

smoke, but Ben was literally shaking with exhaustion. He could put off worrying about

what the fuck they were going to do until tomorrow.

Vin drove him home and told him to go to bed, and Ben did. He managed to take

off his pants and to kick his shoes into the corner, but that was all. He fell onto the

pillows and was instantly asleep.

* * * *

drooled, and he could hear voices on the other side of the bedroom door. For a few

seconds he was so disoriented he had no idea what was happening, but a faint hint of

smoke reminded him, and he sat upright fast enough that the room spun.

Ben pulled his pants back on and stumbled out into the kitchen, where Vin and

Dave were sitting at the table with a note pad and their cell phones. “What’s going on?”

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“Damage control,” Vin said. “Patrick wanted to come too, but I thought he’d be

more than you could handle. He’s freaking out about the fire and Shane, and when he

gets that hyper…”

“We want you to be able to concentrate on Shane,” Dave explained. He picked up

the notepad and handed it to Ben. “If you can give us the number of the insurance

company, I’ll call and see what we have to do to set things in motion. Already talked to

the cops, and they said you can go in before lunch to give a statement.”

Ben leaned against the wall, wondering what he’d done to deserve Vin and Dave.

“What about—”

“Shane’s fine.” Vin grinned. “What, you think we didn’t know you’d ask? They

said he’ll be released later today, which in my personal experience means by dinnertime

if you’re lucky. He knows to call so one of us can pick him up if you can’t. Shelly

dropped by the hospital this morning and left him her spare cell. Don’t worry.”

Ben didn’t go around hugging people often, but he needed to show them how

grateful he was, and he needed some physical contact. He walked over and hugged

them as they sat, the embraces brief, but the gesture helping him.

“There’s coffee made,” Dave said. “Does that get me another hug?”

Ben grinned at him, his mood lifting. “Depends if it’s good coffee or the rocket fuel

Vin makes.”

“Coffee should get you moving,” Vin said. “You drink flavored water.”

“I made it,” Dave said. “Vin, zip it and let the man wake up.”

“I’m awake,” Ben said, pouring himself a mug of coffee. He took a sip, not caring

what it tasted like as long as it was hot. He tried to organize a mental to-do list. “I need

to call work. They’re not going to be happy about me taking more time off.”

“But it’s an emergency,” Vin said, frowning. “They’ll understand, won’t they?”

“Yes, but they’ll still think their needs come first. There’s this big client…” He

shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Not today.”

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His employer didn’t agree with him. Mulholland’s voice was testy and filled with

impatience as he brushed away Ben’s explanations. “I’m sure it was a dreadful

experience, and I’m very glad no one was hurt, but you’re needed in the office, Lozier.

There’s no possibility that you’ll be able to come in later, after you’ve spoken to the

police?”

“None whatsoever,” Ben said and didn’t even try to sound apologetic. “My

partner will be discharged from the hospital later today, and I’ll have to meet the

representative from the insurance company on site. I need to get over there to see

what’s left of the building, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“This inheritance of yours has been nothing but trouble,” Mulholland snapped.

Ben thought about Shane, the friends he’d made, the satisfaction he’d felt in

restoring the Square Peg, and shook his head, rejecting that judgment without

hesitation.

“Not to me, sir. I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up, knowing he’d need to look for a new job soon. They wouldn’t fire

him over this—it wouldn’t look good—but he’d labeled himself unreliable, and that

meant no more big clients, no pay raises, and no hope of promotion.

Once, that would have kept him awake at night, but not now. To most people,

going from being an accountant to running a bar would seem like a mistake, but Ben

knew it wasn’t.

“I’ve got the info here for a rental car,” Vin said. “Your car insurance will

reimburse you for it until three days after they make you an offer on your old one.

Assuming the old one is totaled, but I think that’s a pretty safe bet.”

“Sadly, I agree with you.” By the time they’d left last night, the car had seemed

little more than a smoking shell of a vehicle, but Ben figured there was a slim chance it

had looked worse than it was.

“If you want, I can run you over there so you can pick up a car,” Dave offered.

“They’re holding a compact for you. I didn’t want to chance you getting over there to

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find out they didn’t have anything available, but you can change it to something else

they’ve got if you’d rather.”

“I think I need to hire you both to run my life,” Ben said honestly. “Shit, sorry.

We’ll get everything straightened out, okay? I don’t want you to think you’re screwed

job-wise.”

Vin had the most serious expression Ben could remember seeing on his face.

“Don’t. There are more important things to worry about right now. We totally get that.”

He grinned suddenly. “Besides, it’s not as if I’m going to get evicted.”

“I’m going to make you some breakfast,” Dave said. “Go do whatever you need to

get ready. The last thing you need’s to pass out because you haven’t eaten.”

By the time Ben got back from a quick shower, Dave had made him a cheese

omelet and some toast. Vin had changed into the oldest clothes Ben had ever seen him

wear. “I know, this shirt’s practically transparent,” Vin said. “But we figured we’d get

in there and see if anything can be salvaged.”

Ben alternated taking bites of food and arguing with Vin about that being a

terrible idea. “It’s dangerous.”

“Fine,” Vin said finally.

“
Fine
means you’re going to do it anyway, doesn’t it,” Ben asked.

“I refuse to answer that question on the grounds it might incriminate me,” Vin

said. “Or whatever.”

“I mean it,” Ben said, wondering if what worked on Shane would also work with

Vin. “If something in there is still in one piece, well, it’ll still be in one piece once the

building’s been declared safe.” Something else occurred to him. “And it’s a crime scene.

It’s probably covered with yellow tape.”

That got through to Vin—or diverted his attention, at least. “Those vicious little

fucks. I don’t get how anyone could do that. We could’ve all been killed!”

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“I don’t think that was the plan,” Ben said, thinking it through as he spoke. “They

waited until the bar was closed, and they set my car on fire to draw us outside. I think

they wanted to burn the place down, yes, but not necessarily kill anyone.”

“That doesn’t get them off my shit list,” Dave said flatly.

“No,” Ben agreed. “What they did was terrible.” Four young men, four families

dealing with the knowledge that their sons had committed a major crime—and one of

them gotten badly hurt doing it… He wasn’t the only one who’d woken to a world

that’d gone dark.

“All that work to do again.” Vin shook his head as if the lion’s share of it would

fall on him, from clearing the debris to rebuilding the walls. “Still, this time we can

choose a different color for the walls. How about black? It doesn’t have to look dark.”

“In what world do black walls ever make a place look bright?” Dave demanded.

Ben let them squabble for a few moments, then cleared his throat. “So you’re

expecting us to rebuild?”

They exchanged worried looks. “You’re not?” Vin asked. “I mean, we haven’t seen

it yet, but even if they have to tear the whole thing down, you can rebuild with the

insurance money, right? And you could sue those assholes too.”

“It was insured, wasn’t it?” Dave put in. “Shane’s hopeless with paperwork, but

not about the big stuff.”

“It’s not the money, and yes, I made sure the policy was up-to-date and reflected

the investment we’d made. It’s just…” Ben shook his head. “This isn’t any time to be

making rush decisions.”

“But if it was? Do you want the bar back?” Vin was staring at him intently, as if he

could see the answer inside Ben’s skull.

Ben pushed aside the mountain of work that would be needed and focused on the

end result, the bar open again, himself working side by side with Shane…

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“Yeah,” he said, and felt the surety that came from making the right decision.

“We’re rebuilding.”

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Chapter Eighteen

Shane was in a terrible mood—no surprise, that—and it seemed likely that was

why the nurses were working at top speed to get him discharged. Not that he cared. He

wanted out. There was no real need for him to be there. He was still coughing, but his

oxygen levels were within range of normal, and a mild concussion was no reason to

submit to the torture of constant monitoring. He’d reached the point where he was

tempted to just walk out.

He used the cell phone Shelly had left with him to call Benedict.

“Hello?” Benedict sounded harried.

“Hi, it’s Shane. They’re going to let me out of here in about half an hour. Think

you can pick me up? I can get a taxi if—”

“Don’t be stupid. I can come get you. Hang on.” Benedict said something,

muffled, to someone else. “I’ve just got to finish this paperwork; then I’ll be there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I’m getting the rental car now, and I’ve got to call the police

department about making a statement. But I should be there in, hmm, twenty minutes.

Can you wait that long?”

“If I know you’ll be at the end of it? Sure.”

“Okay. See you soon.” Benedict hesitated, then hung up without saying anything

more.

The paperwork was a nightmare, and Shane didn’t realize until he’d finished it

that he didn’t have any clothes to change into. Of course, he’d leave hospital any way

he could, even wearing a cotton robe with his arse hanging out, but Benedict turned up

with some things in a paper bag.

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“I only had a minute,” Benedict said, apparently explaining to the nurse as much

as to Shane. “At least it’s something.”

“It’s great,” Shane said gruffly and took the sweat pants and T-shirt into the

bathroom to get dressed. When he came out again, Benedict and the nurse were talking

about him.

“And make sure he gets enough rest. In a few days he should be back to normal,

but for now he shouldn’t push it,” she said.

“He’s right here.” Shane dropped the robe onto the bed. “And capable of looking

after himself, thanks.”

The nurse gave him another one of the looks he’d been getting all morning.

“Right. Well, good luck.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “I think she was talking to you, not me.”

“I’m sure she was.” Benedict frowned at him. “Have you been giving the staff a

hard time?”

“Depends on what you mean by
hard time
. I’ve been putting my foot down when

they treat me as if I’m ten, and I’m not going to put up with it from you, just so we

know where we stand.” Shane’s head was aching, the relentless stab through his skull

when he moved too quickly making him irritable. Benedict not giving him as much as a

hug wasn’t helping either. So much for being in love with him.

“I’ve got no intention of treating you like that unless you act like that, so the

solution’s in your hands.”

“Whatever,” Shane muttered. “Can we get the fuck out of here?”

Benedict stepped closer, and for a moment Shane though he was about to get the

hug he wanted—or a slap on his backside—but Benedict just reached for the plastic bag

filled with Shane’s smoke-tainted clothing and picked it up. “Sure.”

Shane blew out an impatient breath and stormed out, knowing he was being

unreasonable—but locked on course, unable to free himself from his bad mood.

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And why should he? His home and job had gone up in flames. Everything gone.

Even the man walking beside him wasn’t going to be around for much longer. The bar