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.