Transactional dynamics, p.10
Transactional Dynamics, page 10
part #3 of Hazard and Somerset: A Union of Swords Series
Lawrence’s cheeks pinkened, and he cut the air with the cigarette. “You want to take me in? Fine. But I’m done talking to you.”
“Come on,” Somers said.
“No,” Dulac said, “I want this asshole to spend a few hours—”
“Come on,” Somers said again. “Mr. Lawrence, thank you for your time. We’re going to stop by your apartment and confirm that story with your grandma, but we appreciate your help.”
“Go on,” he said. “I’ll be right here, and she’ll tell you.”
And she did: told them the same story, down to Andy Griffith and Gunsmoke and the QVC special on birthstone necklaces.
When they left the apartment, Dulac was practically bouncing in his wingtips.
“We could have sweated him in the interview room,” he said when they got to the car. “We still can. Neither of us brought up Swaner, and that’s the second name out of his mouth? He’s in on this, man. Let me go back. I’ll drag that asshole down to the station and—”
“What? He stonewalls us until either the chief makes us let him go or he gets a lawyer who slaps us with wrongful imprisonment? Jesus, this is 101 stuff, Dulac.”
“I don’t like that asshole. He’s hiding something.”
“Great. Let’s find something we can charge him with, then.”
“Great,” Dulac said. Shouted.
“What’s your deal? You’re really on a fucking spree today.”
“Nothing,” Dulac said. And then he yanked open the door and dropped into the driver’s seat.
Sighing, Somers made his way around the car. It was easier with Hazard, he decided. There was still the moodiness, but Hazard only had two or three moods. Dulac had a goddamn department store of options.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FEBRUARY 13
WEDNESDAY
2:06 PM
HAZARD KNOCKED AGAIN.
“For fuck’s sake,” he growled, punctuating each word with another blow. “Open up.”
He could hear them moving around inside. He could hear them talking.
“Just a minute,” one of them said. Probably Chase, although the voice was muffled.
After hearing Nico’s voice on the phone, Hazard had decided he needed to do the rest of the interview in person. He knew Nico. A little too well, actually. And he knew he’d have a better chance of picking out inconsistencies, omissions, and lies if he did this in person.
He just didn’t like thinking about how he was going to explain this to Somers.
But when Hazard had requested the in-person meeting, Nico had hemmed and hawed, until finally Chase came back on the line and asked if they could talk in a couple of hours. No excuses. No explanation. Hazard’s list of possible reasons for the delay included everything from getting lunch to destroying evidence to just jerking him around. He figured it was just jerking him around, but in case it wasn’t, he had spent the two hours waiting outside Chase’s apartment. He’d used the time to call Billy—multiple times, actually—with no luck. Billy had either left the room against Hazard’s instructions, or he was refusing to answer. Hazard had finally stopped calling, telling himself he couldn’t deal with Billy right then. He had turned his attention back to the apartment building, and as far as he could tell, neither Nico nor Chase had left during that time—although he didn’t like to think what they were doing instead.
Making sandwiches, he told himself. Probably making fucking grilled cheese.
“Open. This. Fucking. Door. Right—”
The door swung open. Nico stood there, looking like classic Nico: sweat shorts with a raw edge; a t-shirt with so many holes it might as well have been cheesecloth; and under it all, the lean, long musculature of somebody who posed in his underwear for money.
“Move,” Hazard growled, bowling him out of the way as he charged into the apartment. The whole thing was college chic: nice, modern-looking furniture that had probably come from IKEA or somewhere like it, with a layer of pizza boxes and dirty clothes over everything. On the kitchen counter, someone with an alcohol-abuse problem had completed a pyramid of Pabst Blue Ribbon cans.
“God, Emery,” Nico said, shutting the door and rubbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to be such an asshole.”
“Be quiet. Where’s Chase? Chase?”
“He’s in the back, giving us our privacy. I figured we needed to set some ground rules before we did this.”
“We’re not doing anything. Chase, get your ass out here right this fucking instant.”
Chase poked his head out of a doorway at the back of the apartment. He emerged slowly, like he was being dragged onto stage by one of those big wooden hooks. He was cute, dark hair and dark eyes, and Hazard did remember him from the bar. He also remembered the major crush this kid had on Nico. Right then, he was wearing a rainbow tank and joggers; a flush still climbed his neck.
“I had to freeze my ass off so you two could fuck. And you couldn’t spray some air freshener? You both reek of cum.”
“If you’re going to be an asshole,” Nico said. “You can just leave. We don’t have to talk to you; you’re not a cop anymore, Emery.”
The way he said it, though. That was the thing. Like he’d scored a point, maybe the winning point.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Let’s sit down and be nice about this.”
“Just tell me what happened so I can get the hell out of here.”
Nico dropped onto the sofa, beckoning Chase with one hand, and Chase sat next to him. Nico squirmed until Chase had an arm around him. Then Nico wrapped a hand around Chase’s knee. Hazard wouldn’t have paid five dollars to see the whole show they were putting on for him; Evie’s preschool had done a better job with their Columbus Day pageant, even though it was filled with historical inaccuracies and sentimental tripe.
“You don’t have to sit down,” Chase finally said.
“Yes,” Nico said, “he does.”
“Have you reported this to the police?” Hazard asked. “I’ll just get their fucking copy.”
“From John-Henry?” Nico said.
“Yes,” Hazard said as he moved for the door.
“I didn’t file a report,” Nico said, voice rising with triumph. “They don’t even know it happened.”
“Well, that’s fucking stupid.” But Hazard had turned back toward them. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“You can’t talk to me like that anymore, Emery. You can’t. You humiliated me when we were dating. You beat me down.”
“He hit you?” Chase asked. “This asshole hit you?”
“You made me the butt of every joke in this town. I couldn’t look my friends in the eyes. Marcus said—”
“There it is,” Hazard said. “Marcus. Always fucking Marcus. I’m surprised you didn’t go running to him this time.”
“Marcus is my friend. You didn’t want me to have any friends; that’s a sign of an abusive relationship.”
“I didn’t want you to have any of your friends because they were all assholes. And don’t give me that line about them just being friends. Marcus wasn’t just a friend. Robbie wasn’t just a friend. Clarence wasn’t just a friend.” Hazard couldn’t resist throwing in, even though it was bitchy, “Apparently Chase isn’t just a friend either, judging by the jizz he left in your hair.”
Nico checked—just a quick hand shaking out his hair, but he checked.
“You’re even worse now,” Nico said. “I guess this is his influence. John-Henry’s. Everyone thinks you’re so happy with John-Henry. Everyone thinks you and John-Henry make the cutest couple. But here you are, meaner than ever. What happened, Emery? You spent our entire relationship wishing you were with someone else, and now you are. Why aren’t you happy?”
“Give me a fucking break.”
“Did he squeeze the tube of toothpaste wrong? Did he forget to make the bed?” Nico put his hand in front of his mouth, a mockery of horror. “Did he leave a plate in the sink?”
“A plate in the sink? Jesus, Nico, you left the entire kitchen in the sink. You left every piece of clothing you owned all over the apartment. But John could do all that shit, and it’d be fine.” And then, because that bitchy part wanted a jab, he added, “At least I don’t have to sweep up the clippings after you shave your asshole anymore.”
“I hate you.”
“Finally some fucking honest words.”
“You took months of my life. You embarrassed me. You—”
“Enough, Nico. That’s enough.” Hazard’s collar was tight; his knuckles ached from holding his hands in fists. “Either you tell me, or you don’t tell me. I don’t fucking care anymore. But I’m not doing this.”
“We are doing this, Emery. Yes, we are. Right now. I want to talk about why our relationship didn’t work.”
“Uh,” Chase said, trying to wriggle free. “Maybe I should—”
“No,” Nico said, clamping a hand on Chase’s arm. “Don’t. He might get violent.”
Hazard surprised himself by laughing, although it sounded more like a cough. “You are so fucking good at this. Christ, this poor kid doesn’t even have a chance.”
“You owe me an explanation,” Nico screamed.
“I gave you one when we broke up.”
“After I’d been shot. When I was on painkillers. When I was practically dying.”
“Ok,” Hazard said, raising his hands and forcing his fingers to straighten. “I’m done. Whoever doped you, good on them.” Then, to Chase, “Best of luck.”
“Don’t you dare walk out of here, Emery. Don’t you dare. I demand answers. I am worth your time and attention. I am a person with feelings, and I deserve to be treated—don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare!”
Hazard threw open the door and left.
He was halfway out of the building when he heard steps behind him, and he sighed. Maybe this was going to be the Second Punic War all over again. Maybe he was Fabius—or maybe he was just some schmuck on the front lines—and all he could do was retreat, fight, retreat, fight, retreat, fight. He wondered if they’d have to do the whole show here, again. And then again in the street. And then again when he got in his car.
Christ, easier to just eat a bullet.
But when Hazard turned around, he saw Chase hustling down the hall, arms folded against the cold as he came in his rainbow tank and joggers. He really was a cute kid, a lot of it just because he was young and fit, and some of it because he looked so damn earnest.
“Hey, uh, Mr. Hazard.”
“What?”
“I just—he’s really upset.”
“He’ll survive. Roaches are like that.”
A hint of color came into Chase’s cheeks, and he chafed his arms. “Don’t talk about him like that, please. I don’t talk about your boyfriend like that, do I?”
He might be—what? Twenty? Twenty-five, tops? Hazard felt a wave of something for the kid. Pity, maybe. Or compassion.
“All right,” he said.
“Could you come back and just, you know, talk to him?”
“You want me to go back and explain to your boyfriend why we broke up?”
“I don’t know.” Chase rubbed his face. “He’s really, really upset. He’s crying so hard I think he’s going to make himself sick.”
“Yeah, he will. That’s a classic Nico move. Better get him a bucket.”
“Ok, can you—”
“Are you dating him or just fucking him?”
More of that red worked its way into Chase’s cheeks.
“I’m asking because it matters for how you handle him,” Hazard said.
“We . . . we just got together last night. But I think it could be something serious. We’ve known each other for a while, and I . . . I really like him.”
Oh Christ, Hazard wanted to say. Oh Christ, kid, how young are you?
But what he said instead was, “He needs a lot of attention. A lot. Through the crying and the puking, yeah, and then he’s going to be angry again and tell you everything he wanted to tell me, and then some more. If he catches you not paying attention, then it all gets shifted to you.”
“So I just, like, listen?”
“And get him tea. Rub his shoulders. Say a few really shitty things about me when he needs to hear them. Food’s not a real comfort for Nico, so you can’t just shove some ice cream in him. He likes drama, and the more, the better. He’ll come up with some grand plans about how he’s going to show me I was wrong. You’ve got to tell him I’m not worth it, trying to tamp him down, but really you’re letting him cycle up and up and up. Eventually, he’ll just want to fuck, and then that’s usually the end of it.” Hazard couldn’t help but add, “Until it all starts again.”
“Uh.”
“Sounds fucking exhausting, right?”
“I mean . . .”
“Well, it is.”
“Huh,” Chase said, chafing his arms again.
“My advice, and I know I’m biased: get out while you can.”
“Thanks,” Chase said, the word slow. “But I think this time’s going to be different.”
Hazard shrugged and started to turn, but Chase caught his sleeve.
“I, uh. I saw them Monday night. I was working.”
“You saw Nico with the guy who drugged him?”
“I don’t know. He was with this guy, and they were having a pretty good time together. Dancing for a while. And then they were in a booth, ordering a lot of drinks. I kept an eye on them because—”
“You’ve got a thing for Nico.”
“Yeah, well, this guy was, I don’t know. A little too interested or something.”
“What’d he look like?”
“Dark hair, kind of curly. He was cute. Pouty, you know. Like he never got what he wanted.”
Billy. Chase was describing Billy. Which made sense, in a fashion, since Billy and Nico had both been drugged. Hazard could imagine it now: Billy and Nico somehow meeting, realizing they had both dated Emery Hazard, and enjoying the royal bitchfest that followed. Then dancing. Then drinks. And whoever had wanted to drug Billy had roofied both drinks, just in case, and gotten Nico too.
“Jesus Christ,” Hazard muttered. “Who was working the bar?”
“Me and Hal.”
“Hal and I.”
“Yeah, what about you guys?”
“Never mind. You and Hal were working the bar? Who made the drinks for Nico and the other guy?”
“I don’t know. I mean, it was a Monday night, so it wasn’t super busy, but we were both working steadily. I don’t even remember who their waiter was.”
“Did you put anything in their drinks?”
“God, no.”
“Did Hal?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think so; he’s a pretty decent guy, and I can’t imagine why he would.”
“Would he take cash to do it?”
“Maybe, but I really don’t think so.”
“The guys who wait tables at the Pretty Pretty, what about them?”
“Sure, some of them. But I don’t even know who was taking them their drinks.”
“Bar tab? Receipts? What about a credit card slip with a tip? Would any of those show who served them?”
Chase squinted. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, that’s how we split up the tips.”
“So,” Hazard said.
It took a minute. “You want me to look?”
“Here’s my card. Call me after you’ve checked. And ask around a little about Hal, see if he needs cash or if he’s got a thing for Nico.”
“No, man, he’s happily married.”
“Just ask. And call me. Soon.”
“Yeah, uh. I’m not really a—but, yeah, I guess I could. If you do something for me.”
“I’m not going back up there.”
“No, uh.” Chase glanced up and down the hallway; they were alone, but he dropped into a whisper. “Could you hit me?”
“Are you out of your damn mind?”
“Not really hard. But like, bust my lip or something? So he thinks . . .”
“For Christ’s sake, he’s not worth a busted lip. He’s not worth a hangnail.”
To Chase’s credit, he squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “I asked you not to talk about him like that.”
Hazard had to give Chase credit: he seemed like a decent guy. And, more than that, the punch was actually brilliant. Nico would be all over this kid if he thought he’d picked a fistfight.
“You’re sure you want this? I want you to tell me, in these exact words, ‘I am absolutely sure I want to be hit in the face and I surrender all legal right to compensation or prosecution.’” It was a bullshit, throwaway line that wouldn’t hold water, but Hazard didn’t need it to.
“I am absolutely sure—” Chase began.
And Hazard socked him hard enough that Chase landed flat on his ass.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FEBRUARY 13
WEDNESDAY
2:14 PM
SOMERS AND DULAC HAD BEEN calling around for over an hour, trying to get a lock on a woman called Snow, before they finally got an address. An hour might not have been much time somewhere else, but this was Wahredua: a small town, with an even smaller population of working girls.
It was Carmichael who came through for them again, naming an address near the MP lines.
“I knew a girl who went by Snow; I’d see her on patrol,” Carmichael said. “Almost albino. Guess some guys are into that. But I haven’t heard that name for a while.”
“Some guys are into anything,” Somers said.
“Definitely,” Dulac said, craning to pitch his voice into the phone. “One time this guy I was dating wanted to use a Waterpik to—”
“Thanks, Carmichael,” Somers said and ended the call.
“Dude, it’s a good story.”
“Pass.”
“It might give you and Hazard some ideas.”
“Double pass.”
“So you’re not, you know, falling asleep while you’re banging each other with semis.”
“One more comment, and you can walk.”
