When she pulled the van back in front of the big house the lights were still on, even though it was almost one in the morning. It would be Eddie in there waiting for her, she just knew it. Eddie wasn’t really as bad as she made herself out to be, but Sally’d rather discuss her feelings with a tiger shark than her.
When the engine died she expected Manny and Zuraida to wake up. It had always been enough to wake her up, back in the days when it wasn’t her driving. Zuraida rolled over to her other side but settled back into a deep sleep immediately. In the seat next to her, Manny was leaning against the door, eyes closed, mouth open. He didn’t stir at all as the engine cut, and Sally watched him for a bit to make sure he was still breathing. Sally worried for Zuraida, but only as far as the next few months. Zuraida was new to this and might die from a rookie mistake, but there was some spark about her that made Sally think she’d be okay. Hell, she got attacked by a vampire and managed to sleep a little that night. More than you could say for some.
Manny, on the other hand, she just plain worried about. He’d been living with Trini for…she didn’t even know how long. Longer than she’d know either of them, and that was months. At least a year before that, given the way they talked to each other. But there was still this idea in him that his life could go back to the way it had been. That something could snap back at any moment and put him back in New York. He had that same hope for Zuraida. It was going to get someone killed.
With a slow, practiced hand, she popped the van door open, climbed down to the brick, and closed it again, careful to make as little noise as possible. When she peered in through the window, Manny and Zuraida hadn’t even moved. Good. Let them sleep. She’d come back in a few minutes.
There was no reason to ring the bell. She opened the door, knowing it would be unlocked. The only sounds were the sounds that would continue for hours or days if everyone inside died, the motors and the air and the chimes of the clock on the wall. It didn’t slow Sally down. She knew exactly where she was going. Through the living room, down a hall at the back. The wall to her left, the back wall, was entirely glass, now only reflecting herself back to her. The hallway ended on a single door, half opened. The smell of cigarettes and the tinkling of piano music wafted out to meet her.
It was an office, looking entirely out of place among the rest of the house. It was modern, sleek, with plenty of white and glass surfaces and dim lighting. The desk Eddie sat behind was large but simple, pale metal and glass. A crystal ash tray on the corner was full of butts and a still smoking cigarette. The wall of shelves behind her was sparsely populated with very expensive looking things, a Fabergé egg, a katana, a comic book sealed in a plastic bag. The window to the river had continued from the hall, and Sally knew the glass was bullet proof. The other wall had a built in wet bar, and that was where Sally went first, barely acknowledging Eddie, who didn’t even look up from her paperwork herself.
“No ice?” Sally asked, peering into the empty mini-fridge that sat under the sink.
“Ice dilutes the bourbon,” Eddie said, not looking up. “Drink it like a man.”
As Sally poured herself a drink from one of the glass bottles on the counter, Eddie finished up whatever it was she was working on and put the papers in a drawer next to her. She picked up the cigarette from the ash tray and pulled on it heavily, burning it down to the filter. The butt got smashed in with its already fallen brethren and Eddie lit another one. She offered the pack to Sally as she sat in one of the stiff chairs in front of the desk.
Sally shook her head. “Trying to quit.”
“That sucks,” Eddie said, tapping ash into the tray. “Seems to be a pattern with you. Did you get it?”
The look Sally gave Eddie as she pulled the velvet bag of cards out from her pocket was ice cold.
“How long?” Eddie asked as she picked up the bag to inspect the cards.
“You mean, how long did it take for me to figure out that they weren’t criminals and you did actually send me to knock over a mom and pop shop?” Sally asked.
Eddie waited for half a second, then nodded. “Yes, that.”
“I half figured that was the truth the entire way there, honestly. I’ve never heard of Sylvester and Ammie Piquo. But, hell, I didn’t do work for every fence in the country, did I? Then we get there, I send those two to scout the front and slip around back. And what do I find? No cameras. No guards. And that Sylvester fella had left the back door open to let the night breeze in. Once I saw that I knew.”
“But I’m guessing you didn’t buy these from them?” Eddie asked, holding up the cards.
Sally snorted. “Fuck no. They wanted four grand for them.”
“I told you they had them overpriced.” The cards almost went back on the desk, but after a quick glance at her cigarette Eddie leaned down and put them in a drawer. “Did you tell Frick and Frack out there?”
Sally was going to answer, and she was going to tell the truth. Of course she was, because she wasn’t worried about it. They didn’t need to know the Piquos weren’t criminals, there was already enough on their minds without getting into the sticky moral quandary of what constitutes ownership. The answer didn’t come fast enough, not for Eddie’s liking, who shot her a viper smile as smoke poured from her nostrils.
“Already lying to your friends,” she said, and then tutted. “Not a great way to start a relationship.”
Sally stared at the brown liquid in her glass like it might have answers. Now there’s a guaranteed path to failure. Bourbon didn’t have answers, and never pretended it did. Just burning. She swallowed the whole thing down and put it down on Eddie’s desk.
“They’re not friends, and we’re not starting a relationship,” she said. She stood up quickly, as though momentum was required for the next step. “They wanted to get to Needles and get those books. Now they have them and my job is done.”
Slick Eddie had stared at Sally’s glass for a few seconds in irritation. When no coaster had sprung into existence underneath it, she had sighed and gone to the shelf behind her for one from the stack. It was only after she had gotten the round piece of leather under the glass that she looked up, her face carefully even.
“It’s funny. It kind of sounds like you’re planning on leaving and making me babysit the kids. But you can’t do that to me.”
“Watch me,” Sally said. She shrugged. “They’re adults, Eddie, they can take care of themselves, they just-”
“No, you misunderstood. You can’t do that to me. I made that deal for the books under the assumption that you would be here to supervise. If you leave, I’m afraid the books do, too.”
“That was never part of the deal!”
“It was from my end,” Eddie said, holding out her hands. “I guess that’s the problem with verbal agreements. What, you want to call a lawyer? Take it to one of those TV courts? I’ve got the books, so as far as I see, I’ve got the power. You stay. Keep an eye on them while I can’t. Did you really think I’d let you walk out and leave me alone with whatever the girl is and Rikki Tikki Timebomb out there?”
Sally slowly sat down on the edge of the seat. “What did Trini tell you?”
“Same thing she tells everyone – nothing. But I gathered the books are for the girl, otherwise she’d be at home eating mama’s cooking.”
“And Manny?”
Eddie raised her eyebrows. “I’ve got eyes, don’t I?”
“I’ve been leaning towards ‘tragic chainsaw accident’ on that,” Sally said.
“Yes, well, you were always the optimist.”
“You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”
“If by ‘this’ you mean ‘you,’ then no, I’m not.”
Sally sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m going to need more bourbon.”
High Urban Fantasy Jazz 