Chapter 18 #2
I smiled weakly. “Yep, that’s why we’re here.” Inside, I was berating myself for not being completely honest with him, but I was sure one more layer of problems would send him off for good.
Damon had pulled onto the off-ramp, and we were heading into a neighborhood. “Looks like we might be getting close,” Slade said.
Another round of stomach flutters gripped me. “Now that we’re on small streets, has he noticed us? This was my sister’s car, after all.”
“I don’t see him looking in his rearview, and I’m staying far enough back, I think.
Never really done this before. Besides, he’s probably not expecting anyone to follow him.
” Slade was wearing his usual confident smile, and he looked completely at ease.
I, on the other hand, felt stiff as a concrete statue afraid that if I moved or let myself think too much about the whole thing, I’d crumble into a pile of cement dust.
“Tell me, does anything ever make you nervous?” I asked.
“Hmm, let me think.” He seemed to be contemplating the question.
He turned to me. “To be honest—” He moved his finger back and forth between us.
“This kind of makes me nervous. Not following Damon home, but you and me. Not completely sure what’s happening here, and when I’m not completely sure, I get a little uneasy. ”
“Guess I’m wondering about this too.”
His attention turned ahead again. “Here we go. Looks like the eagle has landed or in his case the eagle crap has landed. He’s parking in a driveway.”
Slade pulled over to a curb four houses away.
It was a neighborhood of small, matching homes built in the adobe style of square walls with a flat roof.
Damon stopped the jeep in front of a shabby, tan-colored house that had a sandy front yard with several cactuses and not much more.
There weren’t any other cars in the driveway.
“It looks like he’ll be the only person home,” Slade said. “Unless he has a carless roommate.” The confident set of his shoulders and his relaxed expression helped alleviate some of my anxiety. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”
I chuckled nervously. “Not a friggin’ clue. I’ll probably start with ‘I’m here to pick up Perris’s things.’”
“Sounds like a good place to start. You ready?”
“Uh huh. Let’s just do this before I lose my nerve.
” We stepped out and both immediately felt the static electricity in the air.
In the distance, a towering gray cloud formation was pressed into the deep blue sky, unmoving and daunting, as if it was just watching and waiting to pour its contents onto an unsuspecting desert.
“Whoa, I guess that’s one of those thunderstorms the date guy warned us about,” Slade said.
“It looks like it’s not moving at all, so maybe we’ll be done here before it rolls through.
” Slade caught the waver in my voice. He reached for my hand but didn’t say anything.
It was the second time he’d taken my hand into his strong, confident grasp, and it was something I could easily get used to.
We reached the stone path leading to the weatherworn front door. I took a deep breath. “Here goes.”
We climbed the two steps to the front stoop.
A familiar clamor came through the open window.
Damon was walking around tapping out beats with his drumsticks.
Perris used to complain that he’d even bang out a tune on the shower tile.
It annoyed her, but she never said anything because according to her, ‘drumming was his thing.’
Slade shot me questioning glance.
“Damon is a drummer, and he’s got drumsticks glued to his hands,” I explained. I took a deep breath and knocked.
“Hey, babe, did you forget your key?” Damon called as he stopped tapping his sticks long enough to cross the room to the door. He yanked it open. For a brief moment, his face blanched and his mouth dropped open as if he was looking at a ghost. In a way, he was.
He released the breath he’d been holding. “Shit, Brit, it’s you. For a second—”
“For a second you thought I was Perris? Yeah, I get that a lot, only Perris doesn’t show up to any doors anymore.
” I’d been nervous up to the second he opened the door and nearly wet himself at the sight of me.
It reminded me what a weasel he was and how much I disliked him. My fury at him came right back.
He’d grown a flimsy excuse for a beard, which only served to make him look meaner.
I’d always disliked his sneering smile, and it crossed his face in one ugly grin as he shook his head.
“What the fuck do you want? And what’s with the little boy haircut?
” He looked for the first time at Slade, and I wasn’t imagining a tiny twitch of nerves in his cheek. “Who the hell is this?”
Slade looked at him with a hard expression that made Damon take a small step back. “As far as you’re concerned, I’m her guardian fucking angel.”
I knew Damon well enough to know that he was sizing Slade up to see if he could take him. It seemed he came to a fairly quick conclusion that there was no damn way.
I stepped forward. “I came here to get Perris’s stuff, and I think I deserve some questions answered. Unless you’ve got something to hide.”
“I don’t have a damn thing to hide. Already made my statement to the cops.” He looked anxiously at Slade.
Slade held up his hands. “Just here to make sure she’s all right.”
Damon relented and opened the door wider for us to come in.
I knew right away that he wasn’t living alone, and it was obvious from the curtains, pillows and throw on the couch that his housemate was a woman.
And after hearing his question before opening the door, I could only assume he was living with a girlfriend.
Damon’s metallic blue drum set sat in the corner of the cramped front room.
Perris’s shiny silver lamp with the modern lampshade sat on the end table next to the couch.
I’d been out shopping with her when she’d bought it.
It had been one of those awesome, easy days where we laughed, and shopped and feasted on corn dogs and lemonade.
Damon hadn’t taken his distrustful gaze off Slade. “Wait, you’re that tattooed punk that came after my brother and his friends at the bar.”
“They were tossing Britton around, so I stepped in. But maybe those are the kinds of uneven fights your brother and his friends like to pick. You know, three guys against one small woman.”
Damon picked up his drumsticks like a little kid with his favorite blanket or toy. In this case, he seemed to think he had some protection against Slade with his thin, battered sticks because he lifted his chin defiantly and his mean sneer reappeared.
“Guess they gave it to you good,” Damon continued. At this point he was far more focused on Slade than on me. “Heard they put you in the hospital.”
“Yep, three guys with a knife against one unarmed man. Like I said, they like uneven fights.”
Damon leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the front room.
He glanced my direction, and I could tell it was still disconcerting for him to be looking at my face, at my sister’s face.
“Hate to tell you, but I tossed the box of Perris’s things.
I didn’t have room for them, and they were making Becky uncomfortable. ”
It felt like a face slap, and I blinked to keep back tears. “I told you I wanted that stuff. That’s, of course, why you dumped it. Because you’re an asshole, and you’ve always been an asshole. And who the hell is Becky? You moved on fast.”
His laugh was as cruel as his sneer. “Moved on? Fuck, I was dating Becky when I was still living with Perris. That’s why she’d been hitting the drugs extra hard.
I told her I was leaving her and her sorry, wasted-junkie ass.
But I didn’t know she’d OD. I knew she was nuts, but I never thought she’d off herself. ”
I gritted my teeth in rage as he spoke. Slade hadn’t moved a muscle, but I could sense heated tension radiating off of him. Something I’d never felt before.
I pulled in a shuddering breath. “In other words, you broke it off with her, and you knew she was depressed about it.”
He shrugged. “She had a big meltdown, and I knew she was upset. But her death wasn’t my fault, and the cops know that I wasn’t at home. So, I guess I’ve got nothing more to say.” He started tapping the drumsticks on the stool in front of the counter.
I took a step toward him, but Slade put out his arm to stop me. He shook his head so slightly that I might have been just imagining it. He didn’t turn to face me but kept an unflinching gaze on Damon.
“So, you weren’t around when Perris died?” Slade asked suddenly.
Damon shot him a cold glare. “Just said I wasn’t at home, so you can shut down your interrogation now, asshole. You know all that ink doesn’t make you any tougher.”
Slade kept his cool. I, on the other hand, wanted to pound my fists into Damon’s obnoxious face.
Slade looked at me. “Britton, play your sister’s voicemail.”
I stared at him, not completely sure I’d heard or understood his request.
“Let him hear it,” Slade said with an encouraging look. I had no idea what he was up to but all I really wanted was to get the hell out of there.
“Yeah, the cops said Perris’s cell phone showed that her last call was to you.
” Damon was holding back a grin. “Guess she made a final plea for help, but you didn’t come to her aid.
Sort of makes it seem that her death was your fault, since no one else was around to help her.
Maybe that’s why you have been such a fucking, obsessive bitch these last few months. ”
“Play the fucking voicemail,” Slade said through a clamped jaw.