Burning Bright (Peter Ash #2)(58)

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“DID YOU MAKE IT to the library?”

Showered, scrubbed, and shaved, Peter had the rice simmering, the lettuce washed, and the vegetables chopped. Peeling and dicing mangoes, he didn’t want to ask about her research in front of Leo Boyle. He definitely wasn’t going to bring up Tyg3r, or whatever he was supposed to call the skeleton key algorithm.

“For a few hours,” she said. “Public Investigations has a subscription to TransUnion, where I found more history on our guys.” She held up a hand. “Before you ask, I logged on with one of my coworker’s passwords. But I got location histories, legal histories, past and present vehicle registrations. Then cross-referencing on all of that. We definitely have some new leads there. But nothing new about the companies we talked about.”

Peter noticed that June was being cautious with the details, too. Maybe it was Boyle, or maybe just habit. Then she waggled her eyelashes at him, Groucho-style. “I did buy a new computer. Leo was just geeking out on the specs.”

Her landlord had downed his martini with no evident effect, and was sucking on a lollipop. “What are you working on?” He talked to June as if Peter wasn’t in the room.

“Just background,” she said, catching Peter’s eye. “It probably won’t turn into anything.” He was glad June didn’t seem to want to get Leo involved. The less anyone else knew, the safer they would be.

“Gotcha,” said Boyle. “Woodward and Bernstein stuff.” He watched June out of the corner of his eye, trying not to stare, and failing. June didn’t seem to notice.

Or maybe she was used to it. Peter understood why Boyle would come over to see June. Anyone in their right mind would. But what did June see in Boyle? The man had the personality of a banana slug.

The timer went off for the rice. Peter put the fish in the oven, turned the timer on again, then stirred the diced red pepper and smoked jalape?o into the rice along with some paprika and garlic powder, poured in a little of his beer, then put the rice back on the heat. He put the mango pieces into a bowl with chopped tomatoes and basil and squeezed a few limes into the mix for a simple salsa. His shoulders were tight from the static, but cooking helped calm him down.

As he assembled the salad, he thought maybe he could distract Boyle from staring at June. “So, Leo. What do you do for a living?”

“Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that.”

Peter knew that dodge. He’d used it himself.

Boyle took the lollipop out of his mouth and examined it. “You want a sucker?”

“With beer? No, thanks.” Peter had another Lagunitas open on the counter. “I like the apartment. Did you do the work yourself?”

“Most of it. The cabinets came out of the house. I’m working on that kitchen now, or I’m supposed to be.” He shrugged. “I kind of lost interest. I’m building an app right now.”

Peter imagined Seattle to be a place where half the population over the age of twelve was building an app. Either that or brewing craft beer or roasting artisanal coffee. Or renovating these old houses. He’d seen a lot of Dumpsters and scaffolding in the neighborhood. Seattle was probably a good place to be a carpenter. He’d have to retrieve his truck and tools if he wanted to work.

The timer went off and Peter checked the fish. “About five more minutes,” he said.

Boyle pushed himself to his feet. “I’m gonna grab a smoke,” he said, and strolled to the front door.

When the door closed behind him, June turned to Peter. “It was nice of you to invite him for dinner,” she said. “He can be a little annoying sometimes.”

“Any friend of yours,” Peter said, raising his beer to her.

She gave him a rueful smile. “I’m not sure Leo has any real friends,” she said. “I’ve kind of adopted him, like a big sister.”

Peter had seen the way Boyle looked at June. Not how any brother should look at his sister.

“He’s pretty young to own a house like that. What does he do?”

June rolled her eyes. “Trustafarian.”

Peter didn’t know the term, and it must have showed on his face. June clarified. “He told me he inherited some money and doesn’t have to work. Those are marijuana lollipops he’s always sucking on. But he’s a computer nut, talks about all these groups he works with online.”

“What kind of groups?” Peter was thinking about the people who’d hacked June’s laptop.

“I can’t keep them straight,” she said. “He’s always starting some new project. He’s smart but lazy. He never seems to finish anything.”

“He finished this apartment,” Peter pointed out.

“Are you kidding?” said June. “When I moved in, the kitchen and bathroom were done, but the walls were all unpainted. The floor was bare concrete. No baseboard, no trim at the windows or doors. I put in that slate tile. I installed that trim.”

“That was you?” Peter raised his eyebrows. “Got some skills, girl.”

“If you ask me nice, I’ll show you my nail gun.”

“Now you’re just teasing me.”

Boyle came back inside, and it was time for dinner.





27





Stuffing down his fourth taco, Boyle said to June, “Was there some kind of problem with your old laptop? I could give it a tune-up. Might be nice to have a backup machine.”