7. Tim
7
TIM
UNFINISHED BUSINESS
A nger beats in my blood and makes my pulse thump, thump, thump in the back of my head. Not because of Aubree’s brash treatment. Never because of her. But because of the name that flashes on my screen when I wanted so badly to stand by and watch her work.
I can’t take this call and risk her overhearing. So I step out of the apartment building and glance left, then right, to catalog every person who stands around and stares. Where there are cop cars and ambulances, there will always be people who come out to see the drama. Where there is a medical examiner—and Aubs looks the part, considering her jacket that literally has MEDICAL EXAMINER in bold type on her back—means the looky-loos will pull up a seat and wait the authorities out.
Soon enough, a dead body will come out the front door and the neighbors will get their morbidity fix.
Exhaling, knowing I have to deal with shit that should never have come to my attention, I swipe my thumb across the screen and accept the call. “Yeah?”
“Boss. He’s back at Sarge’s. And he’s already causing a ruckus. His credit ran out a long time ago, but he’s not taking a hint to stay gone.”
“He’s there right now?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“How deep?”
“About ten grand for this morning. I have a man inside the bar right now to keep an eye on things. But our sub isn’t leaving, no matter the threats coming from Sarge’s people.”
“Is he drinking?”
“Yes, Boss. He’s three beers in and feeling a little friendly.”
“Alright.” I bring my free hand up and scrub my fingers through my hair, thankful, at least, that Aubree is right here where I am. And most importantly, protected. “Booth?”
“Looking for his money, but he’s letting Sarge deal with it for now. But there are whispers…” He silences for a beat. Tension and fear, bubbling in the space between us until finally, he murmurs, “Doctor Emeri’s name has come up.”
I squeeze the device in my hand and hear the tiniest crackling as its components inside protest their new, tighter confines.
“I’m observing the situation, Boss. I’ll let you know if the threat becomes imminent.”
“Thanks. Get him out of the club and put him inside his apartment. Stand on the door if you have to. He’s not to leave. Not to accept visitors. And if he’s too fuckin’ comfortable with that, cut his internet so he’s not racking up more debt online.”
“You want me to imprison a man who?—”
“Yes. I do. Give him time to think about his decisions. Because if he doesn’t smarten the fuck up, Booth is gonna get noisy. If Booth steps in, we’re going to war. Not just for me, or for Aubree, but Felix, too. And Archer. And Cato and Micah. It’ll be a family reunion wrapped in bloodshed. I’m out of that world, but I’ll step in for her. Make it so I don’t have to.”
“Got it.” He hangs up without saying goodbye, knowing what to do. Which means I can relax—for now—and turn to the building’s front door once more and head back upstairs.
“Mom…” Aubree’s voice drips with exasperation. “I told you; I’ve got it under control. I don’t?—”
Curious, I broach the dead lady’s front door and step into the apartment to find Aubree pacing the living room. She’s limited in how far she can walk. Restricted in how freely she can move. This whole fucking apartment stinks of death, but Aubree Emeri provides relief from the dark. Energy where there is none other.
“I know it’s Eli’s big day, Mom! I’m not ruining anything.” She turns when she reaches the the end of free space, her hair flying and her eyes swinging to mine when she realizes she has an audience. “Uh… ”
“Continue.” I step back and lean against the door frame, crossing one ankle over the other and sinking my hands into my pockets. “Your rage is pretty, by the way.”
Her lips curl, not with a smile, but a snarl that would have her tearing my throat out if she could. “It’s no one, Mom! He’s someone I work with… No, he didn’t say I was pretty ! He said privy . As in, confidential information, considering I’m on a death scene right now.”
She listens to whatever her mom has to say, vibrating with anger when all I do is chuckle. Then she brings her head up, sharp as a whip and growls. “My transport van is here, which means I have to get back to work. I’ll call you later to discuss this… Yes,” she responds to something the woman says. “I love you too. Tell Daddy I said hey, and that I’ll see him tomorrow night at dinner.”
I push away from the wall while her mother speaks, her garbled words a sound I hear, but not able to make out.
“Okay. Bye.” Aubree drags the phone from her ear and glares up at me. Her volcanic rage, cute, when she wants so badly for it to be terrifying. “Don’t even ask.” She whirls on her heels and attempts to exit the living room, but I grab her arm, squeezing her too-thin bicep and holding on when the rest of her body tries to escape. Her feet leave the ground for a single second. Her hair, swishing with the effect of my stop . Then she looks up at me again, her nostrils flaring. “Let me go.”
“Don’t think I will.” I jerk her back until her shoulder nestles by my heart and her breath hits my tongue. “Your mom giving you a hard time?”
“I said not to ask.”
“You say a lot of things, often. But then I remember that I’m an independent, single man, and I don’t have to listen to you.”
I flash a grin, tossing her words back in her face, and then I’m rewarded with the molten lava of her eyes.
“If someone is bothering you, I wanna know about it.”
“It’s my mother. Not a friggin’ mafia empire. They’re not the same kinds of bother .” She rolls her eyes when I drop my hand, turning and stalking back to the room her dead body is in. “Get off my death scene, Timothy. You risk everyone’s jobs by being here.”
I follow her— I’ll always follow —and stop at the door to find Fletch, a little green around the edges, setting towels out on the bed in preparation to lift.
I spy Officer Clay, whose eyes are glassy from the stench and his lips are white… from the nausea, probably. Then I look at Aubree, completely in control of herself, and smile.
“Is it Eli’s birthday or something?”
“Wait…” Fletch latches on to anything except the decay in the room. “Your brother? I thought he already had his birthday this year. You asked me about gifts and shit.”
Pursing her lips, Aubree hooks a thumb toward her homicide detective bestie. “He listens when I speak. That’s such a rare and special trait in a man.”
“Ohhhhh… his wedding!” Fletch preens under Aubree’s praise. “Holy shit. That’s this weekend. That came up so quickly.”
“So that’s why your mom was calling,” I murmur, folding my arms. “She’s harassing you because you didn’t do something you were supposed to do.”
“She’s harassing me because I accepted the invitation without a plus one. My parents want me to bring a date, though I assured them that wasn’t necessary. I’m in the bridal party, so any date I bring will sit alone most of the day, and if I brought someone, they would be subjected to the Spanish inquisition. Where did you meet our sweet Aubree? Isn’t she just the loveliest thing? When will you ask her to marry you? We’re waiting for these grandbabies, and we’re not getting any younger, you know? ’”
“Good lord,” Fletch chuckles. “I was gonna offer to be your date. But if that’s the treatment I’ll get?—”
“I don’t want a date! I want to be left the hell alone. And I want my transport van to get here already! Jesus. Why is it taking so long?”
“Something about watching a pot boil.” I take out my phone and quickly type up a reminder to call Mr. and Mrs. Emeri and introduce myself. It’s time we mesh some worlds. “You said you were going to their place for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Yep. I don’t need a plus one for that, either.” She snags a thick, black bag, and snaps it out to its full size. “Let’s get her packed up so we can move her when transport arrives. I want to be back at the George Stanley within the hour.”
“So you can start your formal autopsy?”
She slides her eyes my way and firms her lips. “So I can work, knowing security will keep you out of the building, mostly.”
“Ouch.” Fletch swaps his gloves for a fresh pair and grabs his towel, carefully wrapping the thick fabric around the woman’s melting ankle. “If I throw up after this, I expect you all to mind your damn business.”