Remember When (In Death #17.5)(46)

He rocked himself for comfort while Laine wrapped her arms around him, pressed her cheek to his. "I sent him here. I told him to come because I thought it was... Ran out into the street?"

His head came up now. Tears tracked down his cheeks, and she knew he'd never been ashamed of them, or any big emotion. "He wasn't a child who goes running into the street."

"But he did. There were witnesses. The woman who hit him was devastated. There was nothing she could do."

"He ran. If he ran, there was a reason." He'd gone pale under the tears. "You need to get what he gave you. Get it and give it to me. Don't tell anyone. You never saw him before in your life, that's what you say."

"He didn't give me anything. Dad, I know about the stones. I know about the New York job."

His hands were on her shoulders now with a grip strong enough she knew there'd be bruises. "How do you know if he didn't give you anything?"

"The man who's upstairs. He works for Reliance. They insured the gems. He's an investigator."

"An insurance cop." He came straight out of the chair. "You've got a cop in your shower, for the sake of Jesus!"

"He tracked Willy here, and he connected him to me. To you and me. He only wants to recover the stones. He's not interested in turning you in. Just give me what you have, and I'll take care of this."

"You're sleeping with a cop? My own daughter?"

"I don't think this is the time to go into that. Dad, someone broke into my house, into my shop because they're looking for the stones. I don't have them."

"It's that bastard Crew. That murdering bastard." His eyes were still wet and swimming, but there was fire behind them. "You don't know anything, do you hear me? You don't know anything, you haven't seen me. You haven't spoken to me. I'll take care of this, Laine."

"You can't take care of it. Dad, you're in terrible trouble. The stones aren't worth it."

"Half of twenty-eight million's worth quite a bit, and that's what I'll have to bargain with once I find out what Willy did with his. He didn't give you anything? Say anything?"

"He told me to hide the pouch, but he didn't give me one."

"Pouch? He took them out?"

"I just said he didn't give me a pouch. He was... fading, and it was hard to understand him. At first I thought he said 'pooch.'"

"That's it." Some of the animation came back into his face. "His share is in the dog."

"The dog?" Genuine shock had her voice squeaking. "You fed diamonds to a dog?"

"Not a real dog. God almighty, Lainie, what do you take us for?"

She simply covered her face with her hands. "I don't know anymore. I just don't know."

"It's in a statue of a dog, little black-and-white dog. Cops probably have his things. Cops probably have it and don't know what they've got. I can work with that."

"Dad-"

"I don't want you to worry. No one's going to bother you again. No one's going to touch my little girl. Just stay quiet about it, and I'll handle the rest." He gave her a hug, a kiss. "I'll just get my bag and be gone."

"You can't just go," she protested as she hurried after him. "Max says Crew is dangerous."

"Max is the insurance narc?"

"Yes." She glanced nervously toward the steps. "No, he's not a narc."

"Whatever, he's not wrong about Crew. Man doesn't think I know who he is," Jack muttered. "What he did. Figured I'd swallow his fake names and fairy story whole. Been in the game since I could talk, haven't I?" Jack slung a duffel over his shoulder. "I should never have gotten tangled with him, but well, twenty-eight million, give or take, makes for strange bedfellows. Now I've gotten Willy killed over it."

"You didn't. It's not your fault."

"I took the job knowing who Crew was though he called himself Martin Lyle. Knowing he was dangerous and planning a double cross all along, I took the job. Willy came with me. But I'll fix it. I won't let anything happen to you." He gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, then moved to the front door.

"Wait. Just wait and talk to Max."

"I don't think so." He let out a snort at the idea. "And do us both a favor, princess." Now he tapped a finger to her lips. "I was never here."

She could hear him whistling "Bye Bye Blackbird" as he set off at a jog. He'd always moved well for a big man. Before she knew it, he'd rounded the curve of her lane and was gone.

As if he'd never been there.

She closed the door, rested her forehead against it. Everything ached: her head, her body, her heart. There'd been tears in his eyes still when he trotted away. Tears for Willy. He'd grieve, she knew. He'd blame himself. And in that state, he might do something stupid.

No, not stupid, she corrected and wandered into the kitchen to pace aimlessly. Reckless, foolish, but not stupid.

She couldn't have stopped him. Even if she'd begged, pleaded, even if she'd turned on the tears herself. He'd have carried the weight of them when he walked away, but he'd have walked.