Ben took one look at my face then released my arm and held his hands out in a yielding gesture as he took a half step back. “Whoa, Kemosabe. Just a bit jumpy, ain’t ya’?”
I allowed myself to relax once I realized who I was dealing with, but only slightly. My mood hadn’t exactly been uplifted recently, and to be honest, I wasn’t in a big hurry to talk to Ben. We had made some headway last evening, but it had really only taken the edge off my anger. While that was a start, it definitely hadn’t repaired the schism by any stretch of the imagination.
As we stood there, I gave him a quick once-over. He really didn’t look any better than I felt, so I suspected he was dealing with his own demons and sleepless nights. I couldn’t say that I was sorry about that. I also noticed his jaw looked just about as bruised as my fist. Right or wrong, I took a modicum of satisfaction in that.
“Didn’t see you,” I finally replied, voice flat.
“Yeah…kinda got that from the ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ look on your face.”
“Uh-huh…well, as I recall you’re the one who told me to be careful when I’m in the city.”
“Yeah, but I meant the parts where ya’ really need ta’ be careful. I mean, look around. Ya’ got coppers all over the place down here.”
“All the more reason to watch my back, don’t you think?” I just couldn’t stop myself from uttering the choleric words.
“Yeah, uh-huh. So, obviously you’re right back ta’ bein’ major pissed,” he grunted. “Thought we’d patched things up a bit last night.”
“Maybe a little, but this is going to take more than a little patching. I mean, look at what I’m dealing with here? Can you blame me for being pissed off?”
“Guess not,” he assented with a shallow nod. “But ya’ need ta’ try and get over it ‘cause we ain’t the bad guys, Row.”
“It’s been my experience that the bad guys rarely think of themselves as such.”
“Yeah, okay,” he replied, holding up his hands again in surrender. “Not gonna go there with ya’. Don’t wanna argue right now. You’re pissed, that’s fine. It’s all good. We’ll just hafta work around it.”
“Thank you so much for your approval,” I offered with heavy sarcasm overtly tagged to the words.
He just shook his head but didn’t reply.
“So,” I asked out of curiosity. “Are you following me now? Am I under surveillance? On the verge of being arrested as Felicity’s accomplice or something?”
“Gimme a break,” he grunted. “If you were under surveillance, you wouldn’t know it unless we wanted ya’ to. The real deal is I was gonna call ya’, but I noticed your truck sittin’ here when I pulled in a couple minutes ago. Thought I’d just come over and talk to ya’ in person instead.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But I was seen talkin’ to ya’ last night, so if there’s gonna be any fallout, the damage is already done…for me, anyway.”
I didn’t really understand what he meant with his addendum to the sentence, but it wasn’t important. The fact was that his obvious conclusion about me being concerned for his career, while somewhat logical, was a misinterpretation of my query. I thought I should probably just let it go, but again my mouth was running out of sync with my brain.
“Actually, I was talking about your jaw,” I corrected him. “You aren’t afraid I might take a swing?”
“Uh-huh,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah. Well, don’t expect another free shot anytime soon, white man. Ain’t gonna happen.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he said, still not pursuing the caustic tone of my replies. Instead, he peered back at me with questioning eyes then repeated his earlier question, “So, anyway, how’s Firehair?”
“She’s been better,” I answered. “Of course, that stands to reason when you think about where she is.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, inspecting the sidewalk for a moment before looking back to my face. “But, she’s tough. She’ll hold up.”
“Yeah. I just hope she’s tough enough.”
“She is.”
“Glad you’re so confident.”
“You ain’t?”
“Let’s just say I’m worried.”
“Yeah, I can understand that…” he agreed with a nod.
“So,” I asked. “This great confidence you have in her fortitude…is that recent revelation?”
“Just drawin’ from what I know about ‘er.”
“Really? I thought you’d pretty much discounted all of that last night when the irrefutable evidence became the thing.”
“I never said that.”
“Not in those exact words.”
He shook his head. “Ya’know, the only reason I’m resistin’ the urge ta’ kick your ass right now is that I know your head ain’t on straight.”
“Okay. Am I supposed to say thank you?”
“It’d be nice, but I’d settle for ya’ tryin’ ta’ be a little more civil.”
“This is me being civil, Ben.”
“Yeah, right,” he harrumphed. “It’s more like you bein’ an asshole.”
“Live with it.”
“It ain’t helpin’ your wife, Row.”
“Coming from you, that sounds a bit empty.”
“Look, I’ve been doin’ some thinkin’ about all this and askin’ a few questions.”
“Oh yeah? Did you come to any conclusions?”
“Yeah, actually, I did.”
“Let me guess…you still think Felicity is guilty.”
“Actually, considerin’ some of the answers I’ve gotten, what I think is some shit don’t add up.”
“Okay, so, is that a yes or a no on the guilty part?”
“It’s a ‘I think some shit don’t add up’,” he replied and then added, “On both sides.”
“So what you’re saying is that now you’re on the fence?”
“Shit, Rowan, I was climbin’ the goddamned fence last night. Just wasn’t quite sittin’ on it yet.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Wanna know why? ‘Cause ya’ were too friggin’ busy bein’ pissed off ta’ listen to me.”
I paused for a moment to weigh what he had just said. In truth he was probably correct. Much of the previous evening was a painful blur, with even more excruciating but still out of focus highlights. I’m sure my emotional state clouded much of it just as it had been doing all along.
I finally gave him a shallow nod and replied, “Maybe so.”
“Yeah…so listen…you wanna go grab somethin’ ta’ eat this evening?”
Taking into account the events of the past day, the invitation seemed to come out of nowhere. While I was willing to make a concession about my stubborness, I was still on a roller coaster ride where my feelings about Ben were concerned. I was willing to talk, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to sit down to dinner with him. On top of that, I had more than enough to deal with at the moment.
“No offense, Ben,” I replied, begging off the invite. “But I’m not much in the mood for socializing right now. And, to be honest, I’m still not so sure about the company.”
“Yeah, well in case ya’ didn’t notice, that last part was actually kinda offensive.”
“Sorry about that. Just being honest.”
“Okay, but ya’ gotta eat.”
“Trust me, if I get hungry I’ve got food at home.”
He reached up and smoothed back his hair before dropping his hand back down. He started to say something then glanced almost furtively from side to side. I followed his gaze and noticed a fairly steady stream of people moving along the sidewalk.
Gesturing obliquely, he fixed me with an odd stare. As he spoke, he carefully enunciated the words. “Listen to me, Row. I really think you need to come to dinner with me.”
For whatever reason, I wasn’t getting his point, even with the out of character exactness of his speech. In fact, the only thing I was getting was annoyed. “Ben, I just said…”
“Fuckit,” he muttered, cutting me off as he shook his head then gave me an even more wide-eyed stare. “Listen to me very carefully, willya’?” His next sentence was slow and deliberate with heavy emphasis on each individual word. “You… Need… To… Come… To… Dinner… With… Me.”
It finally dawned on my overtaxed and under rested brain that what I was getting was not a social invitation but quite possibly an offer of information, or even help.