Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(152)

“Maybe you need a mirror,” he suggested and she jumped from his arms.

“I knew it!” she cried, whirled and rushed into the bathroom.

Layne looked at the closed bathroom door while counting them down. That was two problems covered, his Ma and Astley. Then he walked back into his office thinking, his mother wanted to help out, he’d let her. She could do the books. He had checks to cash, invoices to send and bills to be paid. He was going to spend Monday doing it. Now, Vera could spend Friday doing it.

He didn’t make it to his desk when he heard the beep, looked to the monitor and saw Ryker walking up the stairs.

“What the f**k?” he whispered to himself, quickly rounded the desk, pulled his nine millimeter out of a drawer and shoved it in the waistband of his jeans at his hip.

He was back in the outer office by the time Ryker came through the door.

“Yo, bro,” Ryker greeted.

“Ryker,” Layne returned, hoping his mother was adding a whole new layer of makeup.

Ryker looked around the office then back at Layne. “Dig the digs,” he commented.

“Thrilled you approve,” Layne replied.

Ryker’s eyes dropped to Layne’s gun then went back to his and he smiled his big, ugly smile. “Nine millimeter? Take that as a compliment, bro.”

Layne cut to the chase. “You here for a reason?”

Without delay, Ryker walked in, skirted Layne and went into his office. Layne stood where he was, eyes on the bathroom door, counting to ten.

He found this didn’t work and he followed Ryker into his office to see him lounging in one of the two chairs in front of Layne’s desk.

Layne rounded the desk, pulled out his gun and set it on the desktop, close, as he sat down.

“Well?” he prompted.

“Thought we could go out, get a beer, play some pool,” Ryker replied and Layne stared.

Then he asked, “Come again?”

“Pool. Beer. Women. We both got hot babes but that don’t mean we can’t look.”

“Not sure what keeps you in motorcycle boots and leather jackets but it’s four o’clock in the afternoon and I got two growin’ boys so I gotta work for a living,” Layne replied.

Ryker smiled his big, ugly smile again and stated, “Yeah, been askin’ ‘round about you. You’re like King Dick. The top of the Private Dick Heap. What you charge, bro, you could work three hours a day and still feed those two powerhouses.”

“I worked three hours a day, Ryker, wouldn’t have clients to pay those fees,” Layne returned.

Ryker shrugged, “Suit yourself.” Then he leaned forward and asked, “So what we workin’?”

Oh shit.

“We?” Layne asked back.

“Yeah,” Ryker lounged back in his seat, “we.”

“I think I told you already I work alone.”

“Now you work with me.”

“I skipped a part,” Layne informed him. “How’d that happen?”

“Baranski’s out of your old old lady’s house. That happened because of me. You think I do somethin’ for nothin’?”

Fuck.

“And payback is we partner up?” Layne asked.

Ryker shrugged again. “Sure, when I’m bored and I’m bored,” he answered. “So what we workin’?”

Layne heard the bathroom door open and Ryker shot out of his chair, his hand going behind his back, he pulled out his .45.

Fuck!

“Honey?” Vera called.

“In here, Ma,” Layne called back and then said low to Ryker, “Stand down.”

Ryker relaxed and shoved his gun back right before Vera hit the door. She looked up at Ryker and her mouth dropped open.

“My,” she breathed, “you’re a big boy.”

“Ma, this is Ryker. Ryker, Vera Layne,” Layne introduced.

Ryker grinned his ugly grin and stuck out a meaty hand. “Ma’am.”

Vera took it and shook it, placing her other hand on top, saying, “Ryker. Is that your first name or your last?”

“Both,” Ryker replied and her eyebrows shot up.

“Both? You’re a one name man?” she asked and Ryker let go of her hand.

“Yep,” Ryker answered and Vera’s eyes shot to Layne.

“How neat!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never met a one name person before!”

Ryker turned his ugly smile to Layne.

Layne sighed.

Then he suggested, “Ma, how ‘bout you get your coffee, get your ass to the grocery store and buy a beef tenderloin for dinner.”

Vera stared at him and then stated firmly, “Beef tenderloin is for special occasions, Tanner, you know that.”

“Like you makin’ up for bein’ a bitch to Roc for the last week, an occasion like that?” Layne replied. “It’s her favorite, or, when you used to make it, it was.”

Vera was silent before she whispered, “Oh, right.”

Layne smiled at her to take the bite out of his earlier words. “Don’t forget the horseradish sauce and you can come in tomorrow and do my books.”

He watched his mother’s face light up. “Really?”

Jesus, only his mother, the nutcase CPA, would be excited about doing books.