Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(96)

Layne bleeped the locks, Rocky climbed in and he handed her the bag which she set between her legs on the floor as he shut her door. Layne rounded the back and when he swung in his side she was already buckled up but straining the belt because she was bent forward and digging in the bag. She pulled out what appeared to be a huge, oval, foil wrapped sandwich while Layne pulled out of the parking spot.

“You gonna talk?” he asked when they were out of the complex, on the road and she seemed intent on unwrapping the sandwich, a sandwich that, as she unwrapped it, subsequently filled the cab with a mouth-watering scent of fresh roast beef.

“Get this,” she started, handing him the sandwich that had its foil-over-greaseproof paper unwrapped enough for him to eat, wrapped enough so that he could eat it without the gargantuan portion of warm beef and melted cheese stuffed in a hoagie roll dripping all over his jeans. “I called my attorneys this morning because, well…” she paused, “I told you about Jarrod playing dirty but I didn’t tell you how but he cut me off, money-wise. Rent is due at the end of next week and things will be…” she paused again, “well, you know, I told you about it.”

“Yeah?” Layne prompted through a mouth full of succulent, warm roast beef and tangy melted cheese when she stopped speaking.

“So, I called my attorneys to see if anything was happening with that. They promised to call Jarrod’s attorneys and, this afternoon, I had a text to phone them back urgently.”

Layne had a feeling he knew where this was going. He’d been letting Devin do his work and hadn’t asked for a status report since that first night. Layne was the only man Devin had worked with in his career, post-CIA, so Devin was used to working alone, doing his own thing and not reporting in or asking for instructions. Therefore, Layne’s feeling was that Devin had done his own thing.

“Did you phone them back?” Layne asked Rocky and glanced her way.

She yanked open a bag of chips and set it between the two seats, the opening of the bag facing Layne.

“Oh yeah, I phoned them back,” she told him, going back to the bag and digging, she pulled out a can of cola and snapped it open. “And guess what?”

“What?” he asked as she put it in his cup holder.

“Fifty thousand dollars is what!” she announced then started digging in her bag again.

“Come again?” Layne asked.

She came up with a can of diet orange which she popped open while saying, “Fifty thousand dollars, Layne. He’s transferring it into my new account on Monday.”

Yep, Devin had done his own thing.

Layne smiled and said, “Good news, sweetcheeks.”

She placed her pop in her holder and went back to the bag. “No, Layne, not good news. Great news! I was freaking out!” she declared and Layne’s smile died. “My attorneys told me they called his attorneys and they phoned back in, like, thirty minutes. He offered ten K at first but my attorneys pushed it and got fifty!” He glanced at her to see she had her own sandwich in her hand and she sat back, wiping the fingers of her other hand on her brow and emitting an adorable yet annoying due to its cause, “Shoo!”

That f**king jackass. Ten K? He should give her fifty times that, he had it and she’d lived with his bullshit for ten years so she’d earned it. Not to mention, she’d lived a week with the worry she couldn’t make her rent.

Right before she took a huge bite of her sandwich, she said, “I wonder what happened.”

Layne knew what happened. Devin Glover and Natalie Ulrich happened.

“Maybe he isn’t so stupid,” Layne replied.

“Or maybe he’s moving on,” Rocky suggested through a mouth full of sandwich he knew she swallowed before she went on. “That would work for me, maybe he’ll settle and this will be done and I can get on with my life.”

Layne glanced at her before his eyes went back to the road, knowing, one way or the other, Dr. Jarrod Astley would settle so Rocky could get on with her life.

“Beginning of the end, baby,” he muttered.

“I hope so,” she replied.

Layne ate and drove and when he heard Rocky’s hand crinkling the chip bag, he spoke.

“Need you to think about doin’ somethin’ for me.”

“What?” she asked and he heard crunching chips.

“You know Sean O’Leary?”

“Of course,” she replied, reaching for her orange soda.

“His sister’s in a bad way.”

She took a slug, put the pop back and Layne heard the foil move on her sandwich as he peeled back more on his.

“I know,” she said softly. “Meghan’s had it tough. She was having symptoms for ages and no one knew what was going on. It took five years to diagnose her, can you believe that?”

Jesus, five years?

“There’s a treatment that they think can help,” Layne told her. “Colt stopped by, told me about it.” Layne took another bite of sandwich and said while chewing. “It’s expensive.”

“Most of them are,” Rocky murmured and he heard her moving foil.

Layne put his sandwich in his hand at the steering wheel and dug into the bag of chips. “She can’t afford it and I thought you could do your magic.”

He knew she’d turned to face him when she asked, “My magic?”