The Hard Bounce - страница 81

I nodded. “That’s the guy. How did you know that?”

“Holy fuck! Dude, you are one lucky man.” Twitch’s burst of exuberance sent tiny flecks of Jell-O from his mouth across my legs. He wiped the green mess into the sheet. “Sorry.”

“How in sweet fuck-all am I lucky?”

“Lucky that you’re not in a meat locker in the basement.”

Before I could ask questions, the door handle shifted with a click. Fluidly, instinctively, Twitch slipped behind the opening door. As Barnes came walking in, Twitch slid neatly behind him and out as the door closed. Barnes never even knew he was in the room.

“So,” Barnes said.

“So,” I croaked.

“You’ve got some detectives on your ass over this.” He clucked his tongue in mock pity. He probably wished the bullet had gone into my face.

“Why?”

“Why?” Barnes huffed a laugh. “Gunshot wound. Always gonna be questions asked where gunshots are concerned. That and a panicked young lady who works for the DA calling the cops, a battalion of cruisers, a smashed van with no driver or plates, and two bleeding jackasses at the scene. You wanna ask me why again?”

“I got shot? No wonder my leg hurts.”

“Don’t try to pull that shit. I made a couple calls, and the detectives agreed to let me talk to you first. So, what happened?”

“I got shot, apparently.” The truth didn’t exactly set me free, but it did loosen up some capillaries in Barnes’s head.

“You wanna tell me who?”

“I think they were Canadian.”

“Canadian?”

“They had French accents. I had a problem with them at the bar. Must’ve followed me home for some payback.” The IV needle was starting to itch.

“And they waited until the next morning?”

“Those Canucks are a patient lot, eh?”

Barnes wiped his eyes in frustration. “So, you expect me to go back to these detectives-who are doing us both a favor here-and tell them a gang of Canadians followed you home, waited all night for you to get up, then shot you.”

“Sure.”

“And these Canadians went after Kelly because…” He held onto the last syllable, waiting for me to answer. I didn’t. It was too early in the morning, and I’d been shot. My tank was low on smartass juice. “Because?”

“Because of the wonderful things she does?” No, wait. Had a little left.

Barnes grabbed the front of my johnnie and slammed me back onto the bed. I was too weak to offer much resistance. “Play your games, Malone. Play your little fucking games.”

“Get your fucking hands off me, Barnes.” I grabbed his thumb and twisted it back. The knuckle popped, straining. “You want to dance sometime, we’ll dance. You want to get hard on me when I’m too weak to stand? I’ll still rip your fucking thumb off.” I wrenched the thumb harder, close to the breaking point. Barnes didn’t so much as flinch, even though it must have hurt like hell.

“Let’s do that sometime.” Murderous fires blazed in his eyes. “Soon.” With that, he let me go and I released his thumb. He exited, trying to slam the door, but the hydraulics just hissed violently as he stormed out. It was nice to know we were still buds.

My heart was still pounding, hands shaking, five minutes after he’d left. Barnes could have jacked my ass up into the next millennium, if he’d chosen to. Cop right outside the door or not. Shit, the cop probably would have given him a hand.

I figured Donnelly would be worried about damage control. The bullet wasn’t an act of God. I’m sure they wished I’d come up with a more plausible line of bullshit to cover their asses, but I was doped up and pissed off. Let them cover their own asses if they needed to. I wasn’t lying for them. I was lying for Cassie. Besides, fuck Canada.

The rest was the standard battery of bullshit. Not satisfied with what Barnes told them, another detective came in and tried the threatening approach. I stuck to my story about the rogue gang of gun-toting Canadians. Twitch’s theory about disproving an absurd lie seemed to hold true. The second cop didn’t seem any happier with my answers than Barnes was, but what were they going to do?

The doctors grudgingly gave me my walking papers. Junior brought me a set of clothes, which was an improvement on the pantsless state I’d arrived in.