The 'Burg: Hold On Part 70

"Yo, brother," he answered.

"Yo," Garrett returned. "Need a few minutes."

"You got 'em."

"You know where Ryker is now?" Garrett asked.

"Nope," Tanner answered.

"You two workin' any jobs together?"

"Yep."

Garrett drew in a breath and then asked the question he needed answered right or he'd be going apes.h.i.+t on his brother-in-law.

"One of those jobs gotta do with a man called Jaden Cutler?"

"Nope. Never heard of him."

Garrett relaxed. Slightly.

Jaden Cutler was Cher's neighbor.

Then he asked about the owner of the GT. "How about Robert Paxton?"

"Never heard of him either."

Good.

"Been lookin' for Ryker for a coupla hours, big man," Garrett told Tanner. "Called him twice. He's not pickin' up. He's not at any of his known hangouts. Got any advice on where I can find him or what he might be doin'?"

"You wanna tell me why you're lookin' for him?" Tanner asked.

That was when Garrett gave him what he knew from what he'd run that day at the station about Cher's neighbor and his bud in the GT, some of which Cher had confirmed that night.

"Jaden Cutler's got a rap sheet about fifteen pages long. a.s.sault. Theft. Possession with intent. His known a.s.sociates read like a who's who of the sc.u.m of Hendricks and Marion counties, but he's new to the 'burg. He's done community service. He's also done six months for a B and E. Got off on a technicality on another arrest when an IMPD officer accidentally contaminated some evidence. Got off on yet another charge when a witness recanted their testimony. And he's now livin' two doors down from Cher and Ethan."

"f.u.c.kin' s.h.i.+t," Tanner clipped.

"Robert Paxton visited Cutler Friday night in his GT-R that probably costs as much as Cutler's rental house," Garrett continued. "Paxton's rap sheet isn't as long, but with what's on it, it just means he's smarter than Cutler about gettin' caught. He's not 'burg related at all, until now. All his activity has been in Marion County. Made a coupla calls to some of my boys in IMPD and both names are well-known in Indy. Both of them also got a known a.s.sociate. A man someone we know knows real well: Carlito Gutierrez."

"f.u.c.kin' s.h.i.+t," Tanner bit out, and Garrett could tell he was on the move, probably to get out of hearing distance of Rocky.

"Ryker's got somethin' workin' in regards to Cutler," Garrett shared. "I know this because I walked into J&J's tonight to hear Cher rippin' into Ryan, who Ryker tagged to surveil Cutler's place. Cher saw him doin' it and lost her mind. Ryker's also warned Cher to steer clear of Cutler, but she's heard Cutler talkin' about Carlito. She might be steerin' clear, but, until tonight, she didn't tell me Ryker gave her that warning and Cutler isn't feelin' like steerin' clear of her. He's asked her out."

"Even if this is all a surprise, Garrett, gotta say none of it is actually a surprise. As stupid as Ryan is, he's a genius at monitoring and surveillance. If Ryker's got a job he wants done, he's gonna go cheap and he's gonna get the best he can for bottom dollar, which is part of why Ryan is so stupid, seein' as the guy's got the talent to charge a f.u.c.kuva lot more. And, brother, it's 'burg lore that Ryker and Carlito got a beef."

"It absolutely is," Garrett agreed. "Problem with that is, no one knows how that beef started, which means no one knows why it's so strong, it's lasted for years. Those two give each other a wide berth, Tanner, and those two don't give anyone a wide berth."

"I'll have a conversation with Ryker," Tanner said.

"No, brother, I'll have a conversation with Ryker."

"Okay, Merry, give you that and set it up, but I'm gonna be there."

He could do it, and to keep his s.h.i.+t sharp, he should.

"Set it up soon," he agreed.

"On it."

"Right," Garrett muttered, pus.h.i.+ng away from his truck to head to the driver's side door. "Not findin' Ryker, so gotta go have another chat with my woman."

"Right. Later, man. I'll call when I touch base with Ryker."

"Thanks, Tanner. Later."

They disconnected and Garrett swung up into the cab of his truck. He drove to J&J's. He parked. And he hit the bar to see Feb still there but Colt gone, likely at home, looking after their boy. Ryan was also gone. Business had picked up, but on a Monday night, not by much.

Feb was clearing gla.s.ses at the pool area.

Cher was behind the bar.

Garrett kept his eyes to her as he walked the bar and watched her walk it too.

He got to the end and slid his a.s.s on the stool next to Colt's empty one.

"Beer or whisky, baby?" she asked quietly.

"Beer," he answered.

She went to the fridge and nabbed a bottle of his favorite brew.

She uncapped it, set it in front of him, and leaned into her forearms on the bar.

"Find Ryker?" she asked.

"Nope."

"That must be why you don't have blood on your clothes."

He grinned at her before he took a slug of the beer and lowered the bottle to the bar.

It was then he gave it to her.

"I don't like this. I don't like that guy. Seen him twice when I've been comin' or goin' to your place, and even before knowin' he's got business that links him to Carlito, didn't like the feel of him. So, you got somethin' you got two nights to chew on, Cherie. Either I start hangin' at your pad a whole lot more, that bein' me bein' there when you and Ethan are there as much as I can be, including spending the night, or you and Ethan have a long-term sleepover at my condo."

Her eyes went huge before she leaned deeper into her forearms.

"Honey, the dude is my neighbor. He might be into bad s.h.i.+t, but he's just my neighbor. You think that might be a bit of an overreaction?"

"I got a bad feeling, sweetheart."

"And I got a kid, Merry. It wouldn't be too smart to give Ethan the wrong messages about stuff like that, and I mean that in a lot of ways. It's too d.a.m.ned fast, for one. And he digs you and we're just startin' out. If it doesn't work, we all crash and burn."

"You don't think that crossed my mind?"

Cher shut her mouth.

"Two days, Cherie," he said softly. "Think about it. You can say no. I just won't like it."

It took her a few beats, but she finally nodded.

The lights were dim. It was a bar.

But Garrett still saw the look in her eyes.

"Takin' care of me," she whispered.

"Yeah," he whispered back.

"Takin' care of my kid."

He didn't reply.

She reached out a hand and wrapped her fingers around his forearm.

He twisted his arm and moved it so he could wrap his fingers around hers.

"You kiss my hand in J&J's, you're gonna deliver a hit to my rep as the 'burg's resident tough chick," she warned.

He hadn't intended to kiss her hand.

When she was done talking, he lifted her hand and kissed it.

"Aw, that's sweet," Feb declared as she walked behind him to go around to the back of the bar.

Cher rolled her eyes.

Merry grinned.

The front door opened and she looked over her shoulder toward it before she pulled her hand from his.

But she didn't do that until after she gave his fingers a brief squeeze.

"Be back," she murmured.

He lifted his chin.

As Feb transferred spent gla.s.ses to the sink and spent bottles to the bin, Cher moved down the bar and called out to the new patrons, "Yo."

The 'burg's resident tough chick.

It was true. She'd taken a beating and there she was, just keeping on keeping on.

But she wasn't made of steel.

And Garrett didn't lie.

He had a bad feeling.

He took another tug from his beer and watched Cher serve the newcomers a couple of drafts, trying to a.s.sess if he was actually overreacting due to her history, his history, or if his gut was telling him his tough chick was facing a viable threat.

He watched her smile as she pocketed her tips and moved back his way, making eye contact with other folks who had a.s.ses to stools to see if they were good.

She had to stop to mix a drink.

And while she did, Garrett decided he didn't give a f.u.c.k if it was an overreaction or if his gut spoke true.

With her history and his, he hoped she picked door one or door two, either of them meaning Garrett had access so he could look after Cher and Ethan.

Because he didn't want to take any chances.

Chapter Eighteen.

It's Just Merry Garrett Early Wednesday Morning Garrett woke up to his phone ringing.

On his stomach, alone in his bed, he reached a hand to his nightstand and tagged it.

He looked at the cracked screen, made another mental note to go out and get a new one, and took the call.

"Yo, Mike," he greeted.

"Sorry, man. Call out." Mike sounded just as drowsy as Garrett, meaning he'd been woken too. "Homicide."

f.u.c.k.

Garrett pushed up and reached out to his light.

Homicides in the 'burg were rare.