The 'Burg: Hold On Part 73

He put the phone to his ear.

She was busy getting her kid ready for school. The phone not close. Whenever he called, or even texted, if her phone was close, she answered right away.

This time, it was answered after four rings.

"Uh...boss, school doesn't start for an hour," Cher said in greeting, her voice warm and filled with humor. "Can't confirm I dropped my kid off safely just yet."

"Get somewhere that is not close to your boy," he ordered.

"What?" she asked, no longer sounding warm and amused.

"Get somewhere where Ethan can't hear this discussion."

She didn't reply and he knew she didn't because she was doing as she was told.

He also knew she was there when she asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Wendy Derian was murdered this morning, shot three times."

Cher said nothing for a beat before she said softly, "I don't know who that is, Merry."

"She's Jaden Cutler's recently ex- and very recently deceased girlfriend."

"I don't know who that is either."

"Jaden Cutler is your neighbor, two doors down."

"Oh f.u.c.k," she whispered.

"Pack," he grunted. "I'll go to the grocery store. I'll buy a f.u.c.kin' skillet. But you and Ethan are in my condo until whatever the f.u.c.k is happening is done."

"Merry, I think-"

Garrett cut his eyes to the Fiesta. "Dead in a pool of her own blood in a G.o.dd.a.m.ned Ford Fiesta sitting at the curb in front of her sister's house."

He actually felt her emotion through the phone-horror, a vague sadness for a woman she didn't know, concern about Merry-before tentatively, "Did this...Cutler guy...have anything to do-"

"Unknown."

Her voice was a lot less hesitant when she reminded him, "He's just my neighbor, Merry."

"He's a threat, Cher."

"I-".

"You move in with me, or you move in with your mother, or you move in with Colt and Feb or Vi and Cal. Strike that, your mother's off the list. It's me, Colt, or Cal. Pick."

"Maybe you can come by the bar tonight and we can discuss-"

"Me at the bar with you while Ethan and your mom are two doors down from this guy?"

She didn't say anything.

"Pick, Cher," he demanded.

She still didn't say anything.

"Pick, baby," he pushed.

"You," she whispered.

Thank f.u.c.k.

"Pack," he ordered.

"You're bossy when you're freaked out," she muttered.

"I'm bossy all the time," he returned. "Pack."

"All right," she said, but it came out as a grumble.

Garrett drew in a deep breath.

It didn't release the feeling.

The sour. The fear. The poison.

"Don't worry about the skillet. I'll bring one," she told him.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head.

The f.u.c.king skillet.

That was what he needed.

The sour. The fear. The poison. Gone.

"I got s.h.i.+t to do right now. Get you a key. We'll sort it out later," he told her.

"Okay, babe."

"Glad you picked me, Cherie."

"You think this is it?" she asked.

He didn't get it. "What's it?"

"The end of the suckage that seems to infest my life, this time even when I'm not making stupid decisions that f.u.c.k up said life and totally have nothing to do with it."

He lifted his head and put his hand to his hip. "Don't know, sweetheart. Just know with this particular suckage, I'm gonna be there to make sure you get through."

She sighed. "Unfortunately, you're right. I'm a d.i.c.khead magnet and I'm a life suckage magnet. This means, that a.s.shole's just my neighbor, but since I'm in close proximity, whatever his s.h.i.+t is would find some way to stick to me."

"Lucky you're not gonna be in close proximity. You're gonna be in a c.r.a.ppy-a.s.s condo four miles away."

Some humor was back when she said, "Yeah, lucky."

"Got a homicide to investigate, brown eyes. Gotta let you go."

"Okay, honey. Do that s.h.i.+t quick and make my 'hood safe. The Mamas and the Papas are slated to come to dinner this weekend and I'm not sure they'll dig your pad."

It was painful, but he had to do it.

So he bit back the laughter that left a different ache in his gut.

"Not a rule, but definitely frowned on to bust a gut laughin' while standin' in the yard of a grieving sister whose curb has become a murder scene," he informed her.

"Oops, sorry," she muttered. "I'll curtail my comic genius until a more appropriate time."

"How about startin' that now?" he suggested, turning his back on the street so no one could see the smile he couldn't beat back.

"Right."

"Get Ethan safe to school," he ordered.

"Definitely. 'Bye, gorgeous."

"Later, brown eyes."

He disconnected, turned, and headed across the yard to his partner, his colleagues, and a dead woman in a compact car.

Forty-five Minutes Later Before Garrett got in his truck to leave the scene and meet Mike at the station, he stood outside it, watching the ME van rolling away with Wendy Derian in a body bag in the back at the same time their tow guy was hooking up the Fiesta.

He did this with his phone to his ear.

He listened to it ring and he kept hold of his s.h.i.+t as it kept ringing until he got Ryker's voicemail.

"By now, you've probably heard that Jaden Cutler's girl took three. She just rolled away in the back of the ME's van. You also probably get that this does not make me happy. And I'm guessin' you get that your continued disappearing act is making me less happy. You know d.i.c.k about this, Ryker, you better f.u.c.kin' come forward. You got friends. They give a s.h.i.+t. They'd cover your a.s.s on a lot, and you know this because we've already done that. But now a woman's dead." He drew in breath and finished, "I think you get me."

He disconnected.

Then he swung into his truck.

Cher I sat across from Ethan and watched him wolf down three soft-boiled eggs crunched in with saltine crackers, a touch of b.u.t.ter, and some salt and pepper.

Something my mother made me eat when I was a kid that I detested.

Something that I'd tried on my kid when it became clear he liked everything that could be considered food, as long as it had only so much nutritional value.

He loved it. He called it my "breakfast specialty."

I could make it, but once made, I could barely look at it.

"Kid," I called.

"Yo," he said, eyes to his bowl, mouth full and getting fuller since he was shoveling bright yellow, slimy cracker goo in it.

I made a face.

He looked to me.

"What?" he asked.

We had important s.h.i.+t to talk about. I had to get past the egg goo.

"You remember that conversation we had not too long ago about you growin' up and me needin' to have a mind to that?" I asked back.

He slouched in his chair, fleeting panic racing across his face as he said, "G.o.d, Dad. What'd he do now?"

I quickly shook my head. "No, kid, it's not your dad. I haven't heard from your dad since all that went down on the front walk. And like I said then, your dad is not gonna do anything you don't want him to do, I'll see to that. But I do have something to talk to you about, and it'll require me trusting that you actually are growin' up and I can tell you what's gotta happen. Then we can talk it out however you need to do that."

He came right out of his slump, straightening his shoulders and keeping eye contact.

My little man.

"Hit me," he ordered.

I wanted to laugh or at least grin, but he was being serious and I had to give him that.

"Right, okay, you know that guy who lives down the way that gives off a bad vibe, the one who was bangin' on Tilly's door?"

Ethan nodded.

"Well, somethin' is goin' down. I don't know a lot about it, but Merry doesn't have a good feeling about him and he's a cop, so his feelings are usually smart to pay attention to. Until he figures out what's going down, he wants us to stay with him. So, today, we're goin' to his place where we're gonna stay for a while."

Ethan just sat there.

I did too.

"Is that it?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," I answered.

He went back to eating, but before shoveling in another load of egg mush, he muttered, "Cool."