Page 30 of Fish in a Barrel
Ellery bent down and scooped the three-legged black kitten up in his arms. “You need to keep him on his toes, you know,” he murmured, and Lucifer rewarded him with that fully vibrational kitten purr.
Together they made their way to the bedroom to prepare for a long, long night.
I Can’t Find My Way Home
“JACKSON, YOUwith me?” Cody had fallen into a light drug-induced doze, as had the rest of the bus’s occupants, and Henry’s voice in his ear was reassuring. Surreptitiously Jackson checked his phone battery, relieved to see he had more than half a charge. They’d been on the bus for two hours. Henry had filled the tank of the minivan and caught up with them again. Easy to do, probably, given that the buses were chug-chug-chugging along at a maddening sixty-five mph, but it was a relief to know Henry had them in his rearview. Jackson had told him to go in front for a while so he didn’t get queasy from the fumes.
“Still here,” Jackson murmured. “How’s the dog?”
“Sleeping.” Henry gave a sigh. “Poor thing. He was cold and wet too, but you can tell he misses his human. I used to wonder why people without homes kept animals, and then it hit me—everybody needs someone to love, right? If you’ve got something inside you that can help a stray dog when your entire world can fit in a grocery cart, I’m saying go for it.”
Jackson had to smile in the darkness. Henry had been raised “old-school.” His father, Jackson gathered, had been a classic bigot. Blacks, browns, Jews, faggots need not apply. Henry had tried hard to hold on to his father’s beliefs—even when they included Henry himself—but since he’d arrived on his brother’s doorstep, he’d worked even harder to let go of those same beliefs and to believe in his fellow humans instead. Hearing him discover things that Jackson had always known was sort of wonderful. It meant that the faith in his fellow humans wasn’t misplaced.
“Sometimes a pet is the difference between wanting to live and choosing the alternative,” Jackson murmured, closing his eyes against the sodium lights, against the vast agricultural dark and wet beyond the bus, and feeling what he said in his bones. He was never sure what had brought Billy Bob to his door, half-drowned, half-grown, fully determined to fuck all the things in the neighborhood as long as he could make his way back to Jackson’s home. He would never admit it, especially to Ellery, but getting the cat fixed had probably done both Jackson and Billy Bob a favor. Billy Bob would live a longer life, now that he’d declared Ellery’s house his domain to rule, and Jackson wanted his buddy with him as long as felinely possible.
“Bah,” Henry said playfully. “Who wants a dog when they’ve got five half-grown porn stars to take care of?”
Jackson gave a weak chuckle. “HowisCotton, anyway?” Henry and his boyfriend—who used to be a porn model himself—mentored the models in “the flophouse.” The flophouse was an apartment that a revolving bunch of young men used until they could afford rent on someplace less crowded—and less likely to smell like old jizz. According to Henry, sex wasonat the flophouse: morning, night, and afternoon delight. But just because the kids knew how to use their penises, thatdidn’tmean they were adults, and Henry and Lance had picked up on that all by themselves. By mutual decision, when they’d moved out of the place, they hadn’t moved far, because they could feel the need for big brothers radiating from that pit of angst and hormones, and they didn’t have the heart to let those kids down.
Cotton was a former model who had recently had his heart broken—maybe. He’d been rather forcefully recruited to nurse a soldier back to health when the man had needed to be hidden for a while, and the inevitable parting had hit Cotton hard.
“He’s going into nursing school, if you can believe that,” Henry said, sounding cheerful. “Some place from down in San Diego sent him a full ride offer. Uhm, the woman who signed the offer was, uhm, Jessica Constant.”
Jackson had to work to keep his giggle from escaping. The soldier Cotton had nursed back to health had been Jason Constant, and apparently he had a sister. And both Jackson and Henry knew Jason’s classified military base was down in the desert, northeast of San Diego. Well, maybe Cotton wouldn’t be brokenhearted for long.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” he said, meaning it. He, Henry, and Ellery had been called in to give Jason and Cotton an assist right before they’d caught the Zeke Halliday case. Jackson felt like it was the last time he’d taken a deep breath.
“Yeah.” Henry sounded self-satisfied. “I know Cotton did that growing all by himself, but I have to admit, I feel sort of gratified being there to see it.”
“Don’t be modest,” Jackson murmured. “That kid might not have made it if you—and Lance and John—hadn’t stepped up to be there for him. And he’s going to nursing school? He wouldn’t have had that confidence back in June. Part of that’s you. You need to take the win. It doesn’t happen often.”
“Says the man who literally had me rescue a puppy from the rain,” Henry laughed.
Next to him, Cody Gabriel gave a little whimper and a twitch in his sleep, and Jackson couldn’t make himself laugh back. Cody had eaten another quarter of the hamburger, keeping half of it carefully wrapped and rationed, but Jackson knew they were going to be cutting it close. Cody had to fix to make it through the night, and he’d have to fix to make it through court. And after all that, keeping him alive while Ellery begged for protective custody was going to be a challenge.
“Jackson?” Henry asked, his voice unbearably gentle.
“I’m fine,” Jackson lied. “Have you been able to figure out exactly where we’re going?”
“I’ve been trying to imagine where the best place to ship people would be, particularly in the winter when nobody’s there. There’s a lot of empty around Redding, but it turns out the campgrounds at Whiskeytown have been closed since September. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say out there. I mean, I know the lake is probably nonexistent at this point, but it’s still water. And you have to go out of your way to get there. I think the bus could make it down the road, and there’s camping facilities. I mean, ifIwas a Machiavellian genius, that’s whereI’dgo.”
Jackson let out a burst of air, a silent laugh. “Well then, we’ll guess that’s where we’re going. Which means we’ve got another hour.” He gave a tiny, uncomfortable grunt.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I really have to pee.”
Henry’s laughter in his ear kept him sane for the next half hour, while next to him, Cody Gabriel’s restless sleep got less and less peaceful. When he twitched hard enough to drive an elbow into Jackson’s ribs, Jackson grunted softly and shook him awake.
“More hamburger,” he muttered, and Cody groaned.
“Tastes like crap,” he muttered, but he was unwrapping the cold food as he said it.
“Sorry about that. If we were at my house, I’d do hot grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. My boyfriend cooks the best soup. Fresh ingredients, puts it on simmer. It would warm you to June.”
Cody munched moodily on the burger, wrapping up the last precious bit and setting it neatly in the empty box. “You’ve got someone?” he asked, and Jackson let out that small bit of tension that he imagined everybody LGBTQ had when they let loose with a pronoun or a bit of reveal about their private life.
“Yeah. Your lawyer, actually. Hope that’s not a problem.”
