Bass spat onto the mildewed carpet. He left the door ajar—what did he care if some squatter moved in—and headed out of the yard and back across the road. A dog in one of the yards leaned on the end of its chain, collar dug deeply into its neck, and barked monotonously at him. Bass ignored it as he tugged his helmet back on and buckled it under his chin. He let the eager itch scratch under his skin and obscure any doubts he had.
The endgame of this operation was coming up, and he needed to stay sharp to keep both sides happy.
He left the street behind on a growl of over-revved engine and a cloud of white smoke. As he drove away, he took one glance back in the rearview mirror.
The last time he saw that exact view was in the cop car as they drove away. The bank was two days away from foreclosure on the house when Bass got turned in to the cops, but after he was charged, his dad paid off the note, free and clear, a fair trade of a house for a son. And he even got to die with a clear conscience after he unburdened himself about what he did—and why and for whom—on his deathbed.
It was the house that Shepherd bought, and Bass left it in his rearview mirror. He took his grudge with him.
THE WHITEstucco house in the end lot of the suburb was a lot nicer than the one Bass grew up in. It was clean and well-maintained, with golf-course smooth green lawns and floor-to-ceiling windows that gave passersby a glimpse at pristine walls, waxed wooden floors, and perfectly curated cushions on the couch.
It made Bass wonder if Dr. Cochrane had gotten better terms on his deal with Shepherd or if it was just down to inflation.
He crossed the road and cut across the smooth lawn to the front door. Cochrane’s car wasn’t in the drive, but that wasn’t a problem. Bass hadn’t expected it to be. His girlfriend was in the hospital, and he’d been by her bedside since she was taken in.
Guilt nudged at Bass about the source of that information—he’d claimed he just called Tag with a question about the Mustang, asked about his friend—but he ignored it. He’d gotten good at that over the years. When he finally bowed out of undercover work, that would be hard to unlearn.
Right now, Bass needed to lay the foundations for his threat to Cochrane. It took a bit more work than just giving a corner dealer a brisk workover so they remembered not to short the hand that supplied them. Someone like Cochrane had invested a lot of time and student debt on the idea that he could ward against that sort of thing. His conviction might have been shaken recently, but probably not enough.
Bass scraped garden mud off his boots at the front door and hammered his fist against the lacquered black surface. On the other side of it, someone dropped something heavy on the floor with a clank and a yelp. A child started to wail. Bass hooked his thumbs in his pockets and waited. When no one answered the door, he kicked the bottom of it in a vicious tattoo that rattled it dangerously in its frame.
“I can fucking hear you,” he said conversationally when he stopped. “Open the door.”
After a moment the door creaked open, security chain looped securely across as though it would do any good, and a vaguely familiar girl in a neat gray uniform peered out at him. He couldn’t place her immediately, but the girl didn’t have any such problem as the color drained from her face and she tried to slam the door on him. He jammed his boot in the gap just in time and wedged it open.
“I don’t need help,” she stammered out, her accent thick with fear. “I told him that. We don’t need help.”
The background wail of a miserable child jogged Bass’s memory. It was Tag’s neighbor, the one with the sick baby.Great.The girl glanced nervously over her shoulder, and Bass let himself grimace. The last thing he needed was this to come home to roost. Tag might have given him a second chance, but Bass didn’t think even Tag was softhearted enough to offer up a third.
Unfortunately it looked like Bass might have to find that out.
“Where’s Cochrane?” he said as he leaned on the door.
The girl flicked her attention back to him and shook her head. “Gone,” she stammered. “His wife is… is sick. Not well. Nothere.”
Bass tilted his head to the side. “You wouldn’t lie for him, would you?” he asked.
Something flinty cut through the girl’s eyes. “No,” she said sharply. “Leave now. I am not to let anyone in.”
She shoved the door. Behind her, a little boy in a fire-engine T-shirt and jeans, dark curls stuck up in matted commas, appeared at the top of the stairs. Tears and snot slicked his round cheeks and the arm he used to wipe them away.
“Where’s Mama?” he whined. “I want Mama. I don’t wan—”
Bass caught the kid’s eyes and gave him a nod. “Hey.”
The little boy shut up, shocked out of his whine. He stuck his snotty thumb in his mouth and shuffled to the side to hide behind the banister. A big dark eye peeked around the carved wooden pillar.
“Good-looking kid,” Bass said as he turned back to the girl. “You the nanny?”
She gave a small, nervous shake of her head and pushed the door again. It squeezed Bass’s foot, although he couldn’t really feel it through the heavy leather.
“I just…. I clean for them,” she said. “Today I help with… ah…. While Mrs. Cochrane is in the hospital, I help to watch Johnny. Please. I will get in trouble. I will not tell. I won’t talk to the doctor.”
Bass hesitated. He could feel the bad idea like a balloon in the back of his head, but that didn’t help him resist it.
“Tag, the doctor?” he said. “He’s not a part of any of this. Okay? He really just wanted to help.”
The girl stared at him as though it were a trap and slammed the door the second he pulled his foot out of the jamb. Bass grimaced and shoved his hand through his hair. Sometimes he felt bad about lying to people who trusted him, even if they were crooks. But he could justify that. It never felt good to scare some innocent bystander.
But now Cochrane would know that his house wasn’t a safe haven, that there was nowhere safe in Plenty. Like everything else Bass did, that served two masters. On the surface Cochrane would be scared enough to shut his mouth about whatever he knew about Shepherd, but hopefully it would scare him enough that he’d take Merlo’s offer of protection in return for information.
