Page 90 of Bad Habit
I lifted my arms to keep the coffee from spilling. “Hey. Asshole. Careful.”
“Oh!” A look of alarm came over his face. “I get it.” He started to search the room, checking the walls with his hands, looking under the generic, hotel-lobby-style paintings that had been hanging here since Dill and I moved in. Hell, they’d probably been hanging here since the 1960s.
Dillon wandered over, holding his favorite black coffee mug and wearing only boxers. At least he’d pulled those on. Sometimes Dill wandered around our place naked until he noticed or I pointed it out. Easily the smartest Downey—book smart, anyway—when Dill was in the middle of some idea or problem, he didn’t waste any brain cells on everyday matters like remembering to get dressed.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Dill asked Shane, who was looking under a lampshade.
At Dill’s question, Shane’s eyes opened even wider. He pulled out his phone and texted us both, “Looking for bugs.”
I showed Dillon the text.
“Shane, don’t be an idiot.” Dillon plopped down on his leather chair and put his feet up on the table.
Shane lifted the sofa cushion beside me and looked under. “They’ve got Keagan,” he said in a loud whisper. “They’re probably following us.”
“If they are”—Dillon took a sip of his coffee, —“then they sure as fuck intercepted that text you just sent.”
Shane froze, stared at his phone, turned it off, then started pacing again. “What are we going to do?”
I shook my head at Dillon. What he’d said had been less than helpful. He’d only fueled Shane’s paranoia.
“They’d need a warrant to tap our phones. Isn’t that right, Dill?” I needed to calm Shane down.
“Sure,” my twin said. “But maybe they got one.”
“Dillon.” I kicked his outstretched legs.
“But I doubt it,” he added. “This score was big for us, but it’s small potatoes for the SFPD. They don’t give a shit about us.”
The door opened and Nick entered. Shane raced over to the kitchen and cowered in the corner. If he’d looked paranoid before, it was worse now Nick had arrived.
“How’s it going?” I asked Nick.
“Good.” He dropped onto the sofa beside me. “Jade’s out looking at apartments.” Nick and his girlfriend had burned some bridges with the owner of Shady Oaks, meaning they’d both lost their apartments upstairs.
“Why don’t you guys crash as Keagan’s for a while,” I suggested. “Not like he’s using it.”
“That’s fucking cold, man.” Nick shook his head. “But a good idea. I’ll run it by Jade.” He stretched out his long legs. “What’s the word? Whole family going prison?”
“It’s not my fault.” Shane shot toward us. “Keagan was in charge of planning.”
“It was your fucking contact.” Nick folded his arms over his chest. “Job was too risky from the start.” Nick hadn’t shown up Saturday night, but he knew enough to be implicated if the rest of us got nailed.
“It’syourfault.” Shane’s hand shook as he pointed a finger at Nick. “If you’d come. it wouldn’t have happened. Keagan’s going to spend his life inside because of you.”
Nick shot to his feet. So did I.
“Hey, guys.” I put myself between then. “This isn’t going to help.”
“Pounding Shane into the floor would sure as fuck help me.” Nick glared at Shane.
“Look.” I held up my hands. “We all want Keagan released, right? Let’s focus on that. Dill? You learn anything?”
Dillon set down his coffee mug. “Sully says they’ve got video surveillance of Keagan at the scene.”
“I thought you took care of the security cameras,” I said to Dillon.
He winced. “I did. All the ones at the dockyard, but there’s a business across the road from where Keagan was. Didn’t know they had a camera. If I’d had more time to plan this—”
