Jesus.Cursing Hammer and Noel to hell and back, he rushed to get a spare diaper and a box of wipes from the baby’s room. He heard a shriek and darted back into the bathroom. Just as the baby reached for the dangling washcloth turning the showerhandle, Deacon put his body between the kid and the ice-fucking-cold water that followed.
He shut off the water, too late to save himself, and stood the dirty baby in the tub while he wiped the boy clean with a washcloth. Then he dried the kid and held him in his arms, staring down at such innocence.
The baby babbled to himself, seeming pleased to be naked. Deacon sighed and saton the toilet with the kid in his lap, lost in thought.
He wanted a beer. Freakin’ Noel and his inopportune meeting to get “information.” More like another shot inside his sexy neighbor’s pants. Finally, someone had melted Ice’s heart, but the timing couldn’t be worse. He’d seen Noel acting goofy, had talked to Hammer about it for some time. Meeting the gorgeous Adeline Rose in the fleshmade some sense of Noel’s fixation. But did the guy’s crush need to blossomnow, when Noel Jr. was in the middle of the runs?
Another God-awful second later, Deacon glanced down to see he should have made putting a new diaper on the kid a priority.
“God damn it!” He stood and held the boy at arm’s length. So of course the kid started crying. Deacon wanted to cry too. “This was anew pair of jeans. You could at least have the decency to make Deacon your first word.” The baby sobbed some more, until Deacon cradled his stinky ass tight.
The boy blinked big brown eyes at him and stopped crying, finally.
“Dea-con. Dea-con,” he repeated, doing his best not to gag at the stench coming from his now-ruined pantsandshirt.
The baby stuttered what sounded likeDee-something. Twice.
Deacon stared. The baby suddenly discovered his toes.
Having learned his lesson, Deacon hurried to clean and diaper the kid. Then he stripped down, cleaned up, and fetched new clothes before he made a call.
Noel listenedto the message with half an ear. Something about shit everywhere and the baby sayingDeacon. Yeah, right. As if a four-month-oldcould communicate past grunts and coos. Though the thought of Deacon covered in poop made Noel smile.
He finished gassing up his car, then drove toward Fremont, where he had a meeting with one of Big Joe’s informants. He parked and walked across the street, only to hear the squeal of tires and the roar of a fast-moving car. He waited on the sidewalk, out of the way, for the street dramato unfold. But he saw no car chase or reason for the red Mustang to be driving so fast. Or to be veering toward him.
Noel stood in place until the last possible second so the car wouldn’t mow him down. Before it hit, he jumped back, avoiding major injury, just a graze and some massively sore muscles from the fender. But man, that had been close. The car fishtailed, righted its trajectory,then sped away as the bright lights of a nearby patrol car gave pursuit.
“Holy shit! Yo, man, you all right?” someone asked him.
Noel rolled to his feet and dusted off his trousers and jacket. “Yes, thanks. Stupid drunk, I’ll bet.”
Several onlookers nearby started talking about the number of DUIs in the paper lately.
Noel quickly walked away, heading toward his objectiveand ignoring the pain in his knee where he’d hit the pavement. He entered the café and ordered a bowl of soup and a salad. Then he waited.
Half an hour later, he left his companion and the meal behind. But the nosy individual lurking in the back hadn’t fared so well. Big Joe’s informant didn’t like being spied on. Neither did Noel, but he would have simply put a hurt on the snooping dishwasher.Broken a bone or three.
The informant, however, had utilized a poison that would make itself known in a few hours, wherein the spy—dishwasher, my ass—would become violently ill, assuming he didn’t end up dead of a heart attack first. The poison would also be untraceable unless someone knew exactly what to look for.
Noel walked back to his car, pulled a subtle diagnostic tool fromhis pocket, and after verifying the car hadn’t been tampered with, got inside. He called Hammer’s number, let it ring twice, then hung up and waited.
First, a botched druggie attack. Now, a drunk driver.Two coincidences? Noel wasn’t buying it. And just who the hell had put a spy in the diner to watch Big Joe’s guy? Big Joe? Someone else from the Business? Some faceless enemy? Questionson top of questions. Since the informant hadn’t wanted to wait for answers, just get out of Dodge, and fast, Noel was no closer to knowing anything about what looked like amateur attempts on his life.
Big Joe’s run-down of the dead meth head turned up little but the name of a guy who had never crossed the street at anything but a crosswalk. Ted Wilkes. Nothing else.
But who reallywanted Noel dead? Big Joe hadn’t passed on any warnings about his cover being blown, and the government didn’t know who he was or where he lived. Sure, they knew about Noel Cavanaugh, the finance consultant. And Noel Ridgemont, the man who lived in Washington and was on the books for a popular lobbyist. They didn’t know Ice. Unless someone in the Business had decided to take him out. He had to wonderif Big Joe was in on it. Or was Big Joe being played?
“Or am I dreaming up conspiracies where there are none?” Noel let out a frustrated groan. If the Business wanted him dead, he’d be a lot closer to nearly deceased. No bruise on the knee, he’d be dodging a bullet to the brain. The puzzle gave him a headache, because he needed to solve the riddle of his accidents before meeting up withAddy. No way he’d do anything to place her in danger.
Unless there was no danger. Nothing but a baby with smelly diapers to contend with until they learned who had fathered the little guy.
Personally, Noel leaned toward Deacon. The playboy with the sly grin and supposed charm liked the ladies. A lot. Deacon might dip his wick in a less than safe manner. Hammer liked women as well,but he seemed more cautious, like Noel.
As if thinking about the guy had conjured him, Noel’s phone rang. “Hammer?”
“I talked to our ghostly buddy.” To Phantom. Interesting. No one ever saw or heard from Phantom unless he wanted it. And in this instance, Phantom had contacted Hammer.
“What did he want to know? Did you see him?”
