"Where are you going?"
"To see your momma."
"Bad idea, Jerry—totally bad. If you've got to talk to her, call her on the phone."
"I do better in person, darlin. You know that. I want some face time with her to warn her about spreadin any more of her shit."
"Don't do anything…"
He looked at her. "What? Stupid? Like making a scene and throwin things?" He shook his head. "I'm just gonna let her know that if she keeps this up, she'll be hearin from my lawyer."
He kissed her, hugged her, then he was on his way. She watched him stride out the front door, slamming it behind him.
What a mess. What a mad, godawful mess.
She felt a sob building as she thought about how totally she'd screwed up. Pregnant! She did so not want to be pregnant. She didn't want to be a mother—not yet, at least. The idea terrified her. Maybe later on she'd be ready to be totally responsible for another person, but now? No way. She could barely take care of herself. She had some living to do before motherhood.
But Jerry… Jerry was 50 into this baby.
She thought about how he'd danced around this morning when the other tests she'd bought all came out positive. Kept saying how it was a miracle and how the stars had aligned to make this happen and how it was meant to be and talking crazy about destiny and the baby ruling the world. And always "he" when he referred to it. Why not "she"?
He quieted down later, but he'd been just as happy, dragging her out to Work to celebrate, wandering around the place grinning like a drunk.
Like a drunk… Jerry all of a sudden wanted her to be a teetotaler. Not even a beer. Well, fuck that bullshit.
She went to the kitchen and pulled a can of Bud from the refrigerator. But as she reached for the tab she stopped.
Could alcohol really hurt a baby? She'd heard that, but was it true? Maybe she'd better investigate first. She didn't know what she was going to do about the baby yet, but if she decided to keep him—she was sounding like Jerry now—she didn't want to cause any birth defects.
She returned the beer to the fridge.
Shit. This pregnancy thing totally sucked.
11
"Hearin from my lawyer," Jeremy said as he drove along. "Yeah, that'll be the day."
He shook his head in disgust. Why couldn't things go smoothly just once? Just once. The day had started out so great, and now it was turning to shit. Goddammit, why couldn't Moonglow mind her own goddamn business?
Okay, okay, her kid was her business, but couldn't she just lay off? And where was she getting all this info? Who'd have thought anyone would be looking at his DNA.
The world had turned into a science fiction movie during his time on the inside.
He needed to talk to someone. He picked up his cell and thumbed Hank's number.
"Yeah?"
"It's me. Remember that good news I had for you this morning? Well, here's a little bad to go with it: Someone told Moonglow that I'm her half brother."
"Shit! Who?"
"Don't know. The detective she hired, I guess. But who's feeding him? I got a feeling it's someone from our old living quarters, if you know what I mean."
"/ know what you mean, but it doesn't have to be. DNA testing is done everywhere these days. Hair, a little saliva—hey, you watch CSI. You should know that."
Jeremy knew, but a picture of Doc Levy kept popping into his head.
"One thing I do know is we don't want anyone doing any more, do we?"
""Sure as hell don't."
"Well, if it ain't the folks upstate, then it's the detective she hired. I'm on my way to Moonglow's place now and—"
"Are you crazy? She's got it in for you. You go in there and she could beat herself up and say you attacked her. Then where'll you be?"
Jeremy had thought of that. Moonglow—Christy, damn it! Calling her
Moonglow would botch everything. Christy didn't seem the type to pull something like that, but anything was possible.
Still, he needed a face-to-face to get a line on this detective of hers. And thought he had a way to pull it off.
"I'll be careful—real careful. But I hope I can count on you for some backup if I need it, bro."
A long pause on the other end, then, "I'll do what I can, man, but I've got other obligations."
Jeremy's hands tightened on the wheel. Hank and his fucking Kickers. Jeremy loved the Kicker idea of dissimilation, but there had to be a limit. You had to have priorities. The two of them had already had a couple of arguments about this—damn near came to blows one time—but Hank didn't want to risk getting his hands dirty with anything, even if it meant backing off from Daddy's Plan. Way back when, he'd promised to do his part, but then when the time came he'd welshed. Said his Kickers were an adjunct to the Plan. Adjunct… Mr. Writer-man.
"Fuck your fucking obligations, this is crucial."
"/ told you—I'll do what I can."
"Yeah, right."
He cut the connection and bounced the phone off the passenger window.
Hank… useless piece of crap. Oh, yeah, he'd been all full of praise and compliments this morning when Jeremy had told him about the baby, saying stuff like, "You da man, Jeremy! Told you you didn't need me. You da MAN!"
Yeah, I'm the man all right. The only one of us who is.
12
Jeremy pressed Christy's front doorbell, then retreated to the bottom of the steps where he waited while the front lights came on. He saw her face peer through one of the sidelights, then the door opened. Slowly.
Christy stuck her head out, glanced at him with a worried expression, then looked around as if someone else might be hiding in the bushes.
Not likely. And not likely that he was coming within ten feet of her. Still plenty of light, easy for any nosy neighbor to see him standing out here in plain sight, not even in spitting distance.
"What are you doing here?" she said.
He looked up at her. "We need to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"Yeah, you do. This bullsh—" He cut himself off. Some of the neighbors might be listening. He didn't want any calls going out to NYPD. Didn't want another run-in with them. "This craziness has got to stop. You just can't go around spreadin lies about me."
"Who says they're lies?"
"I do. And you know they are. You and me related—that's a laugh."
That was a whopper. Daddy had told him all about little Moonglow Garber when he was a kid.
Her mouth twisted in disgust. "It's anything but a laugh—it's a horror."
"There are laws against this kind of thing. I'd be suin you now for libel—"
"You mean 'slander.' Libel is in print."
"Whatever. You'd be hearin from my lawyer instead of me right now if you wasn't Dawn's mother. But this is the last time. This is your last free pass. Next time, we go to court."
She smiled. "Fine with me. The only way I can get hurt in court is if what I'm saying is untrue. And it's not, is it."
Bitch. How could Daddy have sired such a dumb cow?
Well, maybe not so dumb. She'd found out he was her half brother. No, wait. She didn't find out—her detective did. Jeremy had to get the name of this guy. Couldn't handle him like Gerhard—that, he admitted, had been stupid—but maybe he could get Vecca to pay him off.
"Who's feedin you all this crap?"
"A friend."
"The same guy who fed you that other line of bull?"
"Maybe."
"Tell me who he is. I need to have a heart-to-heart talk with him, straighten him out on a few matters."