Bennett grabbed the neck of the beer and yanked it out of Franklin’s grip. “I look like your brother?”
He rolled his eyes. “Turn of phrase.”
“And we’re talking about Marlow getting all soft-hearted over that wolf-bitch that tried to kill her kid,” Bennett said. She drained his beer while Franklin mugged indignantly at her. “Like he won’t have to put a bullet in her next full moon if she doesn’t learn.”
Franklin shrugged. “Whatever,” he said and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Unless we’re roasting Marlow for his bad taste in boys, we got a rookie to initiate.”
They looked over. Half of Bennett’s team were clustered around the kid. They’d kept his glass full and his blood high all night. Dawson had him in a headlock, and he laughed along with the others even as his face went red.
“That we do.” Bennett handed the empty bottle back to Franklin and slid out along the bench. “I need to piss first; then we can go.”
“Fuck sake, there are ladies present,” Franklin mock-protested as he waved a hand at Marlow. “Mind your language!”
Bennett gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder and sauntered away from the table. The expression on Franklin’s face as he watched her was soft, his mouth creased with something rueful. Marlow looked away. There were some sore spots you just didn’t poke at, because people would never forget it.
“So am I a ‘lady’ now because I like guys?”
In the time it took Franklin to look around, he’d rearranged his face into cockiness.
“No,” he said. “I’m not adick. It’s because you’re all soft and sentimental inside and get all, you know, up in your feelings about some girl that’s sad she nearly ate her kid.”
That was good. Marlow had been worried that Franklin had upgraded his jerkiness to the point it couldn’t be ignored as banter.
“That’s a surprise,” he drawled. “You and Bennett agreeing that she doesn’t deserve sympathy.”
His phone buzzed in his hip pocket. Marlow reached down to grab it while Franklin snorted at him.
“I think she doesn’tneedsympathy,” Franklin said. “Nothing happened to her. She doesn’t even remember it, so it might as well never have happened. That’s one thing that Piper got right. The wolves have it made. It doesn’t matter what they do or why they do it. Nothing sticks. She could have eaten that kid, and as long as no asshole told her, would she even know?”
It was Cade’s number.
“I think she’d notice the kid was missing,” Marlow pointed out as he got up. He fished his wallet from his pocket and pulled out about thirty bucks. He dropped the bills on the table in front of Franklin. “That should cover my share of the pot. It looks like I’ll have to duck out.”
Hopefully. Cadecouldhave called to tell him that all their leads had fallen flat. That wouldn’t take the rest of the night to deal with, but it wasn’t like Marlow had really wanted to be here in the first place. Bennett had dragged him along, so he’d take the opportunity to get out of it painlessly while he still could.
Franklin picked the notes up and folded them over and over again into a thick wad. “What? The wolf whistles and you go running?” He laughed at his own joke as he tucked the money into the inside pocket of his jacket, then sobered. “Don’t go soft on the wolves just because you’re fucking one, Marlow. You start thinking about who they are in daylight, you’re going to flinch. Then you’re going to be dead.”
“I don’t flinch,” Marlow said. He plucked his coat from the back of the chair and slung it over his arm. “And I didn’t know you cared.”
Franklin shrugged and glanced around at the bar. “I don’t trust the rookie to watch my back,” he said. “Not yet.”
The call rang out. Marlow swiped to call back and lifted the phone to his ear as he stepped away from the table.
“You probably could if you weren’t an asshole.”
Franklin’s snort of laughter followed Marlow as he headed out of the bar and onto the street. He dodged through a group of Day Shift cops who’d retreated outside to smoke, their liquor decanted into plastic glasses. A few of them tried to stop him for… something… but he pointed at the phone to put them off.
Just before the call disconnected again, Cade answered.
“I can’t remember the last time someone let me go to voicemail,” he said down the line. “Next time, pick up.”
Marlow laughed. “Sure,” he said. “That sounds like something I’ll do. Why did you call, Cade?”
There was a dry pause on the other end of the line. Marlow couldfeelit as Cade decided whether or not it was worth it to follow through on his attitude. He must have decided not.
“I tracked down Lance. It turns out he’s not an easy man to find,” he said. The cold edge was gone from his voice and what was left was practical. Businesslike. “My plan will work better if I have someone tied to Piper with me when I talk to Lance.”
He didn’t actually ask. It was easy to assume that he had, but he never did. If Cade couldn’t order you to do something, he expected you to volunteer off your own bat. Marlow stopped next to a half-empty newspaper rack and looked through the greasy glass at the headlines. The tally of full moon damage had been pushed off the front page days ago; now it was sports, scandals, and politics.
