Page 74 of Devil and the Deep Blue Fish

“If I’d known the car was the trick,” he said, lifting one corner of his mouth, “I would have been driving up and down California like new parents with an infant in a car seat.”

“Very funny,” Jackson muttered, scrubbing his face with one hand. “Changing my diaper would be abitch.”

Ellery was too tired to snicker, but his one-sided smile cranked up a little. “Let’s go inside,” he murmured. “You can hit the shower. I’ll make you some food.”

He’d showered at Jade’s before changing, and his suit was in a garment bag in the back of the car. He was tired, yes, but it wasn’t desperate at the moment.

Jackson was desperately tired. He was organ-shutting-down-immune-system-compromised sort of tired, and he needed the shower and the food so he could sleep.

Ellery had seen him through these moments before.

“Believe it or not,” Jackson said with dignity, “Cody talked me into eating after we left the office.”

“So a snack,” Ellery retorted, not put off in the least.

“With coffee,” Jackson added.

“But a snack.”

“But I’m not starve….” The last of the word was swallowed in a yawn.

“Sure,” Ellery agreed as they both walked through the garage door. “Get in the shower now… oh my fucking God,Mom!”

His mother was sitting calmly at the table, Lucifer in her lap, Billy Bob curled on the table next to her laptop as she worked assiduously away.

“Holy Lucy Satan,” Jackson said blankly. “Ellery, I… I can’t—”

Ellery’s mother turned calmly toward them. “Jackson, go shower. Ellery will bring you food.”

“Yes’m,” Jackson muttered before fleeing.

“You broke his brain,” Ellery said, staring at her. “You brokemybrain. We were on the phoneten hours ago. How does that even—”

“I had a friend with a private jet flying to Denver to ski,” she said pleasantly. “Not that I approve of that much conspicuous consumption or the waste of resources, but it was damned convenient. From Denver, I caught a commuter flight to Sacramento. They do run all day.”

Ellery blinked. “So you’ve been here—”

“For about an hour,” she said. “I didn’t know you’d gone full lumberjack out here in the West, Ellery. What on earth are you wearing?”

Ellery glanced down at his flannel shirt and sweats and shook his head. “Have you eaten?”

His mother’s delicately arched eyebrows made an exquisite littleV. “You know, I don’t remember,” she said, and he found himself growling.

“Soup,” he said. “We have lots and lots of wonton soup. And some leftover bread.”

Her face—a perfect oval with expressive brown eyes, perfect makeup, and all—lit up with genuine appreciation. “That would be lovely,” she said. “Thank you, son.”

“My pleas—”

“And while you’re fixing that, and Jackson’s in the shower, perhaps you could update me on your current situation. It soundsfascinating.”

FORTY-FIVE MINUTESlater, his mother was eating, the cats had been displaced to the couch after—apparently—having been petted into twin comas, and Ellery took it upon himself to wonder where Jackson was.

He’d made it through the shower and into his briefs. And one leg of his pajama bottoms.

And then, apparently, he’d sort ofmeltedover to the side and fallen asleep.

Ellery paused in the doorway and marveled at him for a moment. He was battered and bruised—there were always bruises somewhere, he might as well have been a longshoreman—and his body showed the signs of hard, hard use in a relatively short amount of time.

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