Page 83 of Road Queens
“You caught me in a dry spell,” she admitted. “It’s been a while. For me.”
“Also impossible. Nothing you can say will persuade me that you haveanytrouble getting laid.”
She could feel her face heating up behind the helmet. “Dammit, Beane, that’s absurdly flattering.”
“Is that why you sound annoyed?”
“No, that’s just her normal tone of voice. Sorry to rain on your weird sex parade,” Sidney said in her ear, “but you’re on a group com.”
“Liar. You’re not a bit sorry, Sidney Derecho.”
“And are you taking the long way on purpose, you horny jackass?”
“Are you really?” Beane asked, delighted.
“I. Am. Avoiding. Construction.”
“There’s. No. Construction. Within. Fifteen. Miles. Nice. Try. Horny. Jackass.”
Berkeley Breathed had it right: friends are the ultimate mixed blessing.
The light changed, thank God, so Amanda goosed the gas and didn’t say another word until they were pulling into the MCF-Stillwater parking lot. Sidney pulled up beside them and hopped out. “How’d you like the ride, Beane?”
“Loved it.” Sean unbuckled his helmet and strapped it down. Amanda double-checked from long habit, but it was righty-tighty.
“Ah! A new convert.” Cassandra came around the van, as euphoric as Amanda had ever seen her. Who knew Cass was so excited to visit her incarcerated mom? Twice in the same week, even? “I got these two hooked on riding, so it’s nice I haven’t lost my touch. Time for you to get some leather and join a law enforcement motorcycle club. LEMCs are a real thing.”
“Naw. I’m happy to ride behind Amanda.”
“Presumptuous,” Amanda sniffed.
“Gotta give you credit, Beane, your connections are making life easier. Usually, only two people at a time can visit an inmate, and the guards need more than an hour’s notice.”
“Tsk, tsk, Sidney. You mean ‘individuals with justice-system involvement,’” Cass teased.
“I said what I said, goddammit!”Since shrieking could get them kicked out before they even got all the way in, she lowered her voice. “Sorry. I just hate euphemisms so fucking much.”
“You do? Gee, you’ve never said so.”
“Kindly die screaming, Amanda.”
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting across from a bemused Iris Rivers, who greeted them with, “I do love surprises. Amanda, how nice to see you. Thank you so much for the copy ofCooking with Deadpool.And Sidney and Cassandra! Again.”
“We’re aware. Mom, this is former detective Sean Beane—”
Her perfectly plucked eyebrows arched. Did they let “individuals with justice-system involvement” have tweezers? And if they didn’t, how did Iris create such perfect arches? Mysteries, mysteries. “Sean Beane? Truly?”
“There’s aneat the end, but it’s ridiculous, right? Don’t worry, he’s changing it.”
“No,he’schanging it,” Beane replied. “Nice to meet you, Ms.Schmitt.”
“It’s Rivers, former detective Beane. I took my maiden name back the day after I murdered my husband. And I think you knew that.”
Yeesh.Even after all this time, it was jarring to hear Iris confess to murder with such calm.
“And my daughter stopped using Schmitt on her sixteenth birthday.” Iris looked around at their small group. Sean had worked more benign magic and gotten them their own room for the interrogation. Visit! It was a visit. “What is it? What’s wrong? And please don’t insult my intelligence with false assurances.”
“Not even one false assurance?”
