Chapter 48

I sat down in the guy’s football field of a living room, put on the TV, turned it up good and loud, and waited. I wasted five minutes fiddling with my handheld and my cell phone, copying over Zack’s email address to the computer and poking around in the logs and settings for a little bit.

“Hello. I’m Brom,” came a voice from behind me.

He was taller than me, with the soft features, heavy brow, and thick hair of an eighties male model. The white T-shirt and black jogging pants were crisp enough to have been sold to him an hour earlier. I got up and we shook hands like men.

“Trix will be down in just a second,” he said, searching my eyes for a reaction.

“Whatever.” I smiled. “I don’t keep my employees on a clock. Do you have time to talk for a few minutes?”

He waved me to the sofa and took the big, high-backed armchair for himself. I suppressed a smile. Sitting down, I asked him if Trix had told him anything about the case.

He wriggled a bit. “We haven’t had a chance to talk properly beyond, you know, catching up and stuff.”

I let that hang just a little too long, to see him wriggle a bit more. “Well, okay. I’ve been hired by an individual in Washington, D.C., to track down a stolen item. The trail’s led me here, to a law firm in Los Angeles. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the firm in question.”

This worked better for him. I needed something from him. Anyone could see from the way his posture shifted that he liked it when people needed something from him. I decided that I could get to hate this guy pretty quickly.

“Shoot,” Brom said. “Anything I can do, really.”

“For a friend of Trix?”

“Right.” He coughed.

“Islip, Sinclair, and Collis. Ring any bells?”

He stiffened. “There’s no way in hell Frank Islip is trafficking in stolen goods.”

“Not saying it’s him, or any of the partners. But someone is at the very least using the firm’s identity in connection with this item.”

“Islip, Sinclair is an incredibly important player in the L.A. legal community. No one—”

“I’m betting that no one in Las Vegas has even heard of them.”

Brom smiled and relaxed. “—ah. Yes, well, that’d make sense.”

“Could you possibly get me an introduction? I realize it’s imposing.”

“Well, yes, it is, a bit.”

“But, then again, you have just fucked my assistant. And I’ll be leaving her here once I’m done with interviewing at that firm, so you two can catch up at your leisure.”

“Mike?” Trix had come down the stairs.

“Hi, Trix. Just tying up the loose ends here. So could you get me an introduction? The sooner the better, obviously.”

Brom didn’t speak. The silence turned venomous. Trix came and sat next to me. I moved over a space and watched Brom.

Eventually, he said, slowly, “I’m actually attending a private party at their offices tonight. I’ll speak to someone there and get you in tomorrow morning. You can stay here tonight, obviously.”

“Thank you, Brom. Much obliged.”

He stood, a sharp movement. “My ticket’s a plus-one, Trix. I’d love it if you came with me. No dress code. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I brought some work home with me. Make yourselves at home, and I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He padded quickly out of the living room.

“That was a prickish thing to do, Mike,” Trix hissed.

“So?”

“What do you mean, so? What’s wrong with you? No, forget I said that. I know exactly what’s wrong with you.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

She tried a smile. “I thought you were Sherlock and I was Watson.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You fucked him?”

“Goddamnit, Mike, we talked about this. He’s an old friend. An old lover, okay? He’s a very sweet man and he’s good in bed and we haven’t seen each other in years and it felt really nice especially after having had a fight with you and we didn’t hurt anybody except maybe some willfully dumb guy who refuses to listen to a word I say. And I don’t think it even hurt you, not really. It offended you. You think because we sleep together you own my sexuality, and you really don’t.”

I didn’t have an answer to that, but it didn’t seem to slow Trix down.

“You know what the worst thing is? I told you I love you—”

“You never said any such goddamn thing.”

“—told you I could love you and you went white as a sheet and stiff as a goddamn board. And not in the good way. You act like you own a piece of me and you don’t even love me. You like being the white knight and you like, excuse my arrogance but fuckit I know who I am, a hot girl taking pleasure from you, but you won’t let a damn thing get under your skin or disturb the shallowness you cultivate to get through the fucking day, Mike.”

“Shallowness. This is going back to the goddamn book, isn’t it?”

She laughed without mirth. “I guess you’re hellbent on getting that thing and handing it over now. Get the likes of me reprogrammed. I’m gonna look hot in an apron, barefoot in the kitchen, right?”

“You can hide out here with Brom. I won’t tell.”

“You know? I might. He’s at least aware of the world outside and trying to change it for the better. I don’t know what you’re doing anymore, Mike. This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Guess what. Not everything is fun. We deal anyway.” My cell phone went off. “Excuse me.”

I walked out of the living room, put the front door on the latch, and sat down on the porch outside.

“It’s Zack. The creepiest thing just happened, dude.”

“What?”

“Two isweartogod Men in Black just left, with an old guy in tow. They asked me about you.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“What was that about? It wasn’t a raid. Hell, the old guy asked if we did any medical-fetish porno and I gave him a DVD.”

“That, Zack, was my client.”

“Damn, Mike. I’ve met some weird people in this town, politicians and lawyers, but I never had anything like this.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I have no idea how that happened. If it helps, they’re in no position to drop the boom on you. You’re cool.”

“If you say so, dude. But damn that was weird.”

“Listen…You’ve dealt with lawyers?”

“Oh, they’re the worst. I have to chase them out of here with a broom. Sick stuff, lemme tell ya.”

“Do you know an outfit called Islip Sinclair Collis?”

“What the fuck are you into, Mike?”

“Zack, please.”

“I won’t deal with ’em. Life’s too short. And those parties of theirs, Jesus.”

I pulled a cigarette. “Tell me about the parties, Zack.”

“First I’m going to send a configurator to your phone. You carrying any other Internet-enabled devices I should know about?”

Crooked Little Vein
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