The Song of David(41)

Millie obviously heard him and she hooted and pressed the gas pedal down a little harder.

“Henry just compared you to Danika Patrick. And he obviously isn’t alarmed that you’re driving because he’s already asleep again.”

“That’s because Henry knows I’m badass.”

“Oh yeah. Badass, Silly Millie. ‘Goin’ ninety miles an hour down a dead-end street,’” I sang a little Bob Dylan, enjoying myself thoroughly.

“And Henry trusts you,” Millie added, more to herself than to me, and I fought the urge not to kiss her temple again. I suddenly didn’t feel like laughing or singing anymore. I kind of felt like crying.



(End of Cassette)





Moses




THERE WAS SOMETHING about the smell of the gym. Tag loved it. He said it smelled better than fresh cut hay, a woman’s breasts, and steak combined. And those were his favorite things. Tag’s gym smelled like sweat, bleach, and a hint of fabric softener. I hadn’t decided why the fabric softener smell was so prominent until I realized that heat and sweat made the scent rise from clothing. It smelled wholesome—perspiration, soap and good intentions mixed with a healthy dose of testosterone and overconfidence. It smelled like Tag.

Tag kept music pumping all the time, but his choices were interesting—a little Merle Haggard, a little more Metallica, interspersed with songs by Michael Jackson, Neil Diamond, and The Killers, just to liven things up. He had eclectic tastes. That, and he had a short attention span.

Before Georgia had stepped onto that elevator eighteen months before and stepped back into my life, I’d lived in an apartment over the gym and worked out there with Tag almost every day. It was comfortable for me—the people, the atmosphere, all of it—and when I walked in the front doors, I was greeted on all sides with enthusiasm and obvious curiosity, which was fairly normal for me.

I spotted Axel working with a group of fighters and saw that Andy was padded up, taking punches in the octagon. As I debated who I should interrupt first, my name rippled through the gym, and they were both excusing themselves and approaching me without me having to make a move. Mikey followed on Axel’s heels, grabbing up his crutch and bearing down on me like he wanted answers too. Mikey rarely worked out with his prosthetic, and he was a one-legged wonder in more ways than one. A kid named Cory who’d been new to the team when I’d married Georgia wasn’t too far behind them.

The question in their eyes and the worry in their expressions had the tension I’d been trying to tamp down flaring once more. I didn’t have any answers. That’s why I was here.

“Any word?” Mikey asked, foregoing a greeting altogether. I noticed the people around us were waiting to hear what I had to say, and I didn’t want to discuss Millie and Tag in the middle of the gym. Axel caught my wary side glances and led the way to the little office I’d plundered two days before in an attempt to find Tag. Mikey, Cory, and Andy didn’t ask permission to come along, and I didn’t deny them. Maybe together we could figure something out. Axel didn’t wait for me to start the impromptu meeting. He pointed at the wall, at a schedule for the next month that was all filled out.

“That’s Tag’s writing. He must have come in here at some point last week and filled it in. Nobody saw him, and I didn’t think anything of it when we first talked, Moses. The schedule’s always updated, always written out a month in advance. It didn’t occur to me that he would have had to come in.” Axel shrugged. “It made me feel a little better. At least he’s not lying on the side of the road somewhere, you know?”

I nodded.

“Tell him about the papers, Axel,” Andy insisted.

Axel went to the filing cabinet, the cabinet where Millie and I had found the tapes. He pulled out a sheaf of papers and handed them to me.

“I got these this morning. Certified. They’re from Tag’s attorney.”

I scanned it as quickly as I could, and then looked at Tag’s team in horror.

“Did everyone get a copy?” I asked.

“I got a copy,” Cory said.

“Me too,” Mikey and Andy volunteered.

The papers were legal documents detailing the transfer of ownership of the gym to Axel Karlsson, with Andrew Gorman, Michael Slade and Cory Mangum listed as Tag Team co-owners and shareholders with merchandising and licensing rights.

“Has this already gone into effect?” I gasped, searching the legal jargon for dates and details.