Chapter Twelve #2
He hands the phone to me, so I end the call before passing the phone over to the lady. “Thanks,” I tell her.
She nods slowly, probably questioning exactly what kind of call had been made on her phone.
“Felix, what’s the next stop?”
“I don’t know. How do you tell?”
“Look above the door,” he says.
“Uh…” I look at the minuscule map above the door that I guess I’m supposed to be able to read and decipher. It just looks like a bunch of crazy lines to me.
I look around and finally realize we’re on the red line. “Redline, next stop is…”
“Chinatown,” the woman who we’d borrowed the phone from says.
“Thanks,” Lane says.
“Ohhhh, I want some Chinese food,” I say, suddenly very excited. That would be a perfect end to this nightmare. Just go into a Chinese food coma after stuffing my face with all the wondrous delights.
“I think…we have more pressing matters to attend to. First of which is that we are headed the wrong way,” he says.
As the train starts to slow he stands up. I get up and nearly fall on my face as the train lurches before stopping. Lane must sense my imminent demise because he grabs my shoulder.
I reach out and take Lane’s hand, mostly to keep myself from dying but partly to keep him from dying as well.
Who knows when he will decide to leap onto the track again?
I lead him through the open door as people try to cram in.
“So…do we go get a ticket? Or do we just climb through the track again?”
“We can just go to the other side like normal people,” he says.
***
I walk into the department as my head moves on a swivel. “I feel important.”
“Yeah, you are. You’re…there to keep me from stubbing my toe,” he says.
“‘You are very important, Felix. You have saved my ass multiple times. I’m so lucky to have you,’” I say as I try to talk like Lane. It’s nowhere close and it just makes me sound like I’m a heavy smoker.
He snorts. “Take us over to the elevator.”
I lead him with me over to the elevator and hit the up button as I watch people move about. The door opens, and a woman looks at us in surprise.
“Lane!” she says.
“Hey Jenny,” Lane says before quickly stepping past her even though it looks like she’s interested in talking more.
He’s acting calm and collected, but I can tell he’s a little upset. He doesn’t like people seeing him like this, but he’s going to have to get used to it.
“Would you rather hold Copper’s leash? He probably won’t lead you into anything,” I say as I squeeze his hand.
“Sure,” he says as he lets go of my hand and holds his out.
As soon as I set Copper’s leash into his hand, he wraps his fingers around the leather. I watch as he gathers the leash up as the elevator dings. The door slides open and I step out, instinctively wanting to reach for him to pull him after me, but Copper starts walking, and Lane follows.
“Where are we going?” I ask, but I don’t have to wait for an answer because a man in a button-up and dress pants is walking toward us.
“Hey, Price,” he says when he sees Lane.
He looks to be in his sixties with eyes that I can only describe as birdlike.
I feel like with those eyes he could catch me doing anything even if his back was turned to me.
He’s wearing a button-up that is pulled tight over his gut.
Two of the buttons should win an Oscar for how hard they’re working at keeping it together.
“Sir,” Lane says with a respectful nod. “Did you send anyone out there?”
“Yeah, let’s talk,” he says.
He starts walking before he seems to remember that Lane is blind and looks back at him like he’s unsure of what to do with him. I’m so glad Lane can’t sense these looks he gets from people because I think it would make him upset or angry or a combination of both.
So, I start following the man, and Copper follows me.
“Whose dog is that?” the man asks curiously.
“Reed’s. I’m not quite sure why we have it,” Lane admits.
“Because Mick was treating him poorly and because Mick is a dick,” I say.
The older man nods slowly like he’s not sure how to confirm that information. “And this is?”
“I’m Felix,” I say with a smile.
“The babysitter James hired,” Lane says.
“I see. Aaron Walsh,” he says as he holds out a hand.
I reach out and take it. He gives it a solid, bone-crushing shake like he has to prove his masculinity and I glare at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I’m just glad my right hand isn’t the one that had been bruised.
“He can sit out here and wait while we talk,” Walsh says.
“I think he’s fine to hear what’s going on. He’s already aware of everything happening,” Lane says. “And he could prove helpful in case he noticed something that I didn’t.”
Walsh looks back at me and it’s clear he’s not very keen on the idea, but he doesn’t say anything as he leads us through a door and into a small, conference-style room. “I’m going to go find García, I’ll be right back.”
He leaves, so I take Lane’s arm and lead him over to a chair. He sits down and by the time I sit, Walsh is back with a Latino man.
“Hey Lane!” he says as he rushes over to our side of the table.
He reaches out to Lane and instead of shaking his hand like I thought, he grabs him in a big bear hug.
The man is almost as short as me but is built.
His shirt is so tight over his muscles that I can’t help but admire them.
Not that Lane doesn’t have nice muscles, but my God this García man looked nice.
Even with his shirt on, I can see every outline of muscle which has me wondering how exactly he gets that shirt on and if he has to cut it off at night.
“How have you been, García?” Lane asks, actually hugging him back. Is there something going on here that I should be jealous about? But then I think about how hot it would be to have a threesome with García included. That I could handle.
Bad thoughts, Felix. Bad thoughts .
I really didn’t need a hard-on in the middle of the seemingly important meeting.
“I’ve been good! Real good! I’ve missed you around here!” García says a bit too loudly.
“What?” I ask. “Lane, someone could actually…miss you?”
García starts laughing as he looks over at me. “James told me Lane scared away the first person assigned to helping him, but I see you have prevailed.”
“I have. I’ve just been locking him in the bathroom. He can’t find the door without his sight and I just toss some food at him once a day,” I say.
García laughs. “That’s cruel.”
“Felix also thinks he’s funnier than he is.”
“Alright, have a seat, García,” Mr. No Fun Allowed says.
García sits down next to Lane and we turn our attention to Walsh.
“After your call, we sent a few people out to the location. When they got there, there was no one still around. You said they had followed you to the station, right? I had them check the station out and suggested they look at the footage to kind of get an idea of who all was involved, but we already have a pretty good idea of who they were. The larger issue is that we haven’t heard from Dixon in a few days. ”
Lane leans forward. “What? What do you mean you haven’t heard from James? When’s the last time?”
“Wednesday.”
“That was when we were at the hotel,” I say as I try to think about it. My days are a bit of a jumble, but we’d stayed at Mick’s for a few days, not aware that James had been missing the entire time.
“He returned from the job we sent him out on, but we haven’t heard from him since.”
“Reed said he had been talking to him,” Lane says.
“Well, Mick the Dick clearly wasn’t being real honest with most of what he was talking about,” I say snidely.
Lane nods slowly like he’s thinking about something more. “So, Reed knows where he’s at.”
Walsh shakes his head. “We don’t know that. We can’t jump to conclusions. That’s how mistakes are made.”
“Well, we can’t just sit here. Have you talked to his wife? Want me to go talk to her?” Lane asks.
There’s a noticeable moment of hesitation as Walsh leans back in his chair. He glances over at García before looking back at Lane. “Lane…we’re going to have someone come to pick you two up and take you to a safe location.”
Lane seems to sink into his chair, and I can see the surprise on his face. García looks a little upset about it, and I realize what this is. And know that it will not go over well.
“You think I can’t help?” Lane asks.
“I think it would be best for you to go someplace safe,” Walsh says. “You have already been targeted multiple times.”
Lane snorts in disbelief. “You think I can’t help.” It’s not a question this time.
“Lane, you’re blind, I think this is a bit…too much for you. I’d like to place you someplace safe until this whole thing blows over. I have talked with your department, and they agree with me. It will just be until we can figure something else out.”
Lane nods. “Okay.”
“Great,” Walsh says with a relieved smile. “I’ll call them right now.”
Yeah, I know there is no way Lane would have agreed that quickly.
“Felix, let’s go,” Lane says as he stands up.
Walsh looks surprised, but I’m not sure why. He clearly hadn’t worked with Lane a whole lot if he thought he was going to take all this in stride. “What do you mean?” Walsh asks. “Lane, you can’t honestly think it would be wise for me to put you on this case.”
“Of course not,” Lane says as he heads in the general area of the door. “I don’t need you to protect me. I’m leaving. I’m not dealing with this shit. Come on, Felix.”
I rush for him, but García reaches him first.
“Hey, we’ll figure something out,” he says as he gives him a hearty one-armed hug.
“Thanks,” Lane says.
I step in front of García and smile at him. It’s not often I chance upon someone as short as me, so I feel an instant connection with him. “I like you. Mostly your muscles. But I like you,” I say.
He laughs. “Do you need a hug too?”