“Sure, Detective. You take the lead.” They’d already discussed this, so she didn’t really understand why he was bringing it up again.
She heard footsteps, then the door opened, and Bart Yelkis stood on the other side of the screen. No introductions were necessary.They all knew each other. A television was on somewhere inside. Nikki heard the smooth voice of a sports announcer.
“What’s goin’ on?” Bart asked, eyeing them both with more than a little suspicion. He was a short, stocky man whose graying hair had receded while his belly had expanded.
“Is Toby here?” Pierce asked.
“Yeah, but I asked you what you want.”
“To talk to him.”
Bart muttered something under his breath, then called over his shoulder. “Toby! You got company!”
No response.
“Just a sec,” Bart said, but still didn’t unlatch the door. “Toby!” he yelled more loudly.
“What?” came a response from deep inside the house.
“I said you got company!” He walked away from the door, and then she heard him say, “Well, shit, son, take those damned things out of your ears, so you can hear. What’s the matter with ya? I told ya, someone’s here to see ya.”
Less than a minute later, Toby appeared on the other side of the screen, and even through the mesh, Nikki saw him pale at the sight of her.
“Okay, he’s here,” Bart said, catching up to his son and planting himself firmly by the kid’s side.
“I’d—we’d—like to talk to him.” Pierce looked directly at the boy.
Bart snorted. “Okay. So talk.”
“In private.”
“That don’t sit well with me,” Bart said.
“He’s seventeen,” Pierce said. “I think he can speak for himself.”
“About what?” Bart said.
Toby cleared his throat. “I can handle it, Dad.”
Bart scowled. “I don’t think—”
“I said, ‘I can handle it’!” Toby glared down at his shorter father.
Bart hesitated, then rubbed his jaw, scratching a few days’ worth of the silvery whiskers that covered the lower half of his face. “I really don’t—Oh, hell! Go on, talk if ya want. But I’ll be right here in the livin’ room watchin’ the game.” He peered through the mesh and repeated, “Right here.”
“Fine,” Pierce agreed.
Bart then glanced up at his son. “Toby? You okay with that?”
“Yeah.” Toby didn’t bother hiding his irritation as he opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch, while his dad disappeared inside and opened the blinds to the picture window that looked onto the porch.
Through the blinds, Nikki saw Bart sink into his recliner that sat next to a table with a top crowded by a bottle of beer, an ashtray, and several remotes.
“So you wanted to talk to me? About what?” Toby asked, a little insolence still in his words.
Nikki motioned to Pierce. This was his show.
Pierce said, “We saw your bike when we came in.”
