Chapter 109
Scooter tuned that out, taking a few minutes to gawp out the tinted windows. He’d obviously seen New York City in countless movies and television shows—the most familiar skyline in the world, he’d heard it called. The sky itself seemed…very far away. Home to eight and a half million people…Jesus. Scooter ran his hand through his hair, feeling weirdly small and insignificant. Andy’s hand was warm in his, and Scooter summoned up a quick grin. “So, how long’s it take t’ get anywhere in this mess?”
Andy snorted. “In a car? You remember that day there was an accident just on the other side of the roadwork in the middle of the summer? It’s like that, only every single driver is also an entitled prick.”
Well. He supposed if you were going to spend all your time sitting in your car, it should at least be a comfortable one. Which reminded him, he should let everyone know they’d arrived safely. If that’s what he wanted to call this. Scooter dug his phone out of his back pocket. Turned it on. It buzzed several times as the texts rolled in. Ug. Kat had written all hers in Ukrainian, just to make his eyes bleed. Speaking Ukrainian was one thing, reading Cyrillic was an entirely different matter. He muttered a few choice phrases at the phone and not any of Kat’s fake cussing, but the actual swears while trying to get to the keyboard options for that language. She’d have words with him—not kind ones—if he answered her in English.
“Apparently Debbie’s trying to convince Jason that she should be in charge while we’re gone,” he reported to Andy after a while. “That should be entertaining to hear about.”
“God, why would she want—Nope, never mind, I forgot who we’re talking about.” Andy sat back in the seat and leaned into Scooter’s side. “How’s Jason taking it?”
Scooter tipped the phone to show Kat’s string of texts. “From here…to here…that’s all cussing.” And then there were some pictures she’d snapped, one of which had Jason in an apron and up to his elbows in dishwater.
“Real cussing, or Kat cussing?” Andy took the phone from him to look at the picture more closely. “Who convinced him to do a damn dish? My hat’s off to whoever it is. Even if it was Debbie.”
“Suspect it was Jeff doing his normal half-assed job,” Scooter said. “Jason’ll take the damn dishes away from you if you hand him a plate with streaks on it. Kat’ll get him back in line in a day or so. Just in time for us to come back, I reckon.”
Andy grumbled, “All this time he’s been too high-and-mighty to help out when I’m in the weeds and it turns out the reason is I’m too competent?” He scowled at Scooter exaggeratedly.
“At least we don’t have to listen to him complain,” Scooter pointed out. He thumbed back another quick message. Ugh. He had to be careful when texting in Cyrillic. Probably why Kat had done it, his normal texting grammar was hideous. He glanced out the window again; the buildings were enormous. And filthy. Ugh. And he’d thought downtown Richmond was metropolitan. He snapped a quick picture of the world outside and sent it off to Kat.
They chatted back and forth for a while, Andy pointing out points of interest amidst gossiping about their friends, and then the car shut off—rather suddenly, to Scooter—and Kenny exited the vehicle. They must have arrived. Andy closed his eyes and took a slow, bracing breath, then looked at Scooter. “Thank you for coming with me,” he said. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”
This, apparently, was a house three times the size of Scooter’s restaurant, at least. Five stories straight up, a wrought iron fence circling the whole thing, with high tech motion capture cameras set in the various corners.
“Oh, my god,” Scooter said, not quite able to stifle it. He counted: there were two other front doors in the building, so this was an end-unit, but still. For a long, long moment, Scooter wanted to just turn tail and run; there was nothing here for him, and if this was where Andy came from, this was…No. He very clearly remembered Andy, straightening up and facing down a sleazy, looming Nicholas Grant and enunciating, “I’m not going back to New York, with you or anyone else. I’m already home.”
Scooter stepped out of the car when Kenny opened the door, not because he was waiting for the driver to do it, but because Scooter was honestly stuck in the car, unable to function in the face of that intimidating house. “Yeah, baby. I’m right here with you.”
“Mrs. Howard, she’s been real excited to see you,” Kenny told Andy. “I expect she’ll be waiting right in the—”
“Front parlor,” Andy finished, with a sigh. “Yeah, I figured. Thanks for the ride, Kenny.” He took Scooter’s hand again as they faced the door, his own trembling, just slightly. “Well. Ready to go face the dragon?”
“Wish you’d told me,” Scooter said sincerely. “I’d have packed a sword.” He squeezed Andy’s hand. “A few days, an’ if we have to, we can leave whenever we want, right?”
“You bet,” Andy said. “Bus ticket to Virginia Beach is less than forty bucks.” He gave Scooter a small smile, then squared his shoulders and stepped forward.