5. Give a Shit

FIVE

Give a Shit

Rus asked Lucinda to remain in the room when he spoke with Keyleigh, and she’d agreed.

She’d also gone somewhere and returned with a box of Kleenex, which had been a good call.

Keyleigh wasn’t as beautiful as Brittanie had been, nor was she stunning, like Lucinda, but she was pretty.

She was also a mess.

So much so, he was worried he wasn’t going to get anything from her because she couldn’t talk through her sobs.

It was interesting, however, to watch Lucinda sit on her side of the desk, removed from the emotional woman sitting next to Rus, and yet exuding warmth and understanding even in silence.

“I-I’m sorry, Ms. Bonner,” Keyleigh stammered to her boss. Another something that was interesting, the formal address to a woman who couldn’t be much more than seven years older than Keyleigh.

Then to Rus. “Sorry.”

“I’m sure Special Agent Lazarus has experience with people who’ve sustained an unexpected loss, Keyleigh,” Lucinda said in a serene, yet affectionate voice. “Take your time.”

“I-I can’t…this is…it’s…this is crazy!” she wailed, then buried her face in a cloud of tissue.

Rus glanced at Lucinda to see her gaze on him.

She tipped her head to the side.

He didn’t know how he knew what she was communicating with that small gesture.

But he knew.

Push.

He gave it a few moments.

Then he went after it.

“Keyleigh,” he began. “It’s important to learn as much as we can as quickly as we can after the event happens. This is a shock, I know, but if you could take a few deep breaths for me and answer a few questions, it would help Brittanie.”

Keyleigh took her face from the tissues, nodded, dragged in a few stuttering breaths, and her eyes slid to Lucinda.

Lucinda held them and sat unmoving, the rock Keyleigh could lean on.

Keyleigh leaned.

She swiped her face, blew her nose and said, “Okay. I wanna help. I wanna help Brittanie.”

Having a window, Rus launched in.

And he learned no, Brittanie wasn’t seeing anyone new, or anyone at all in an official way. Though she was seeing a few men casually, but she didn’t talk about them much. Keyleigh didn’t know their names and got the sense she wasn’t that into them and they weren’t going to last very long.

Yes, she was terrible with money, but not only didn’t Keyleigh know of any other than her usual troubles with overspending, she thought Brittanie was getting better with managing her funds.

Yes, even though it was frowned on, sometimes she hooked up with people she met at the club. These were the men who weren’t going to last too long. It never led to anything but some one-night stands, or short-term hookups, and Keyleigh had no knowledge if anything turned weird or sour.

Unfortunately, yes, some of these men were married. Keyleigh tried to advise her not to mess with married guys, but sometimes Brittanie did stupid stuff Keyleigh didn’t understand.

No, Keyleigh didn’t know anyone who might want to cause her harm, or at least not anyone who would go that far. Brittanie had made some enemies, specifically with female acquaintances whose boyfriends she’d set her sights on. But killing her for that would be extreme.

No, she did not have a close relationship with her mother or brother. Her brother often got into trouble, which Brittanie wanted to avoid, and she avoided her mother outright, and to Keyleigh’s knowledge, she hadn’t seen either of them in some time.

And through sniffles and barely controlled weeping, Keyleigh couldn’t add anything else, but if she remembered something, she’d be happy to contact Rus.

Throughout the questioning, even though her emotion would sometimes get in the way, Rus didn’t sense she was holding anything back. It was clear she loved Brittanie, she was suffering at her loss, and she truly wanted to help find who hurt her.

But more, intermingled with all of this, she’d say how funny Brittanie was. How Brittanie would be the one who would feed your cat when you went on vacation or go to the grocery store if you sprained your ankle. How she loved kids and animals.

And life.

She wanted Rus to have the answers to his questions.

And she wanted Rus to know that Brittanie might be flawed, but she was a good person.

When it was over, Lucinda walked her to the door, hugged her, and Rus was impressed how she could be both aloof and tender in the way she held her girl. She then handed her off to the security woman who’d shown Rus in.

Security Sue was solicitous as she led Keyleigh to the stairs.

But filling her place was a woman in a white chef’s uniform who handed Lucinda a tray.

She took it, the woman closed the door, and Lucinda made her way to Rus.

She set the tray in front of him, and Rus stared down at a gigantic sandwich of perfectly rare, exquisitely shaved slices of beef and what looked like melted provolone on a French roll next to a mess of homemade potato chips and a small bowl of au jus. A tall, narrow glass of ice rested beside a bottle of San Pellegrino, and there was another bowl with slices of lemon and lime.

“Angelina makes a superb prime rib dip,” Lucinda murmured as she moved back behind her desk.

He watched her sit.

“You seem like a meat and potatoes man,” she finished.

“How did you know?” he asked after how she knew he needed food, not about how she knew he was a meat and potatoes man, which he was.

“Are you from the Seattle bureau?” she asked in return.

“No.”

She said no more, but he knew she’d put together he’d gotten a call from wherever he lived and from then to now, finding food hadn’t been his priority.

He took the ivory cloth napkin that was on the tray, draped it on his thigh, but before he dug in, he said, “Most obliged.”

She dipped her chin.

He dipped his sandwich.

She spoke while he took a bite.

“If you wish to come back up here, I can sort interviews for you in my office with staff. If you want, I can make myself available while you speak to them. I think they’ll be more comfortable here and it’ll be easier for you than traipsing all over Misted Pines. Tell me a time you want to begin, and I’ll handle it.”

She was right, even though this was a trek, having interviews scheduled would save time. Further, he’d normally ask them to come to the station, which always set people on edge. Last, being in a safe space, without him invading their homes, was definitely a better option.

She was also wheedling her way into his investigation, which he would allow her to do because it served his purpose.

He and Moran would hit the mother and brother in the morning.

Which meant…

“Tomorrow,” he said. “Beginning with the top of the list you gave me, starting at one o’clock. I have to warn you, though, this will depend on if we have any other leads we need to follow.”

She nodded and picked up her phone.

He ate while she texted.

He spoke when she put the phone down.

“Where’s your theater?”

“The basement.”

Mystery solved.

“Have you spoken to Melanie yet?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I want Brittanie,” she announced.

He did a slow blink. “Pardon?”

“Melanie won’t have the money to pay for anything fitting, and she didn’t know her daughter. She couldn’t begin to know what Britt would want. So, when she’s released, I want Brittanie.”

Jesus Christ.

One could say with that, compartmentalization was out the fucking window.

“I’m sure you understand I can’t do that,” he said carefully. “She’ll be released to next of kin.”

Lucinda looked out at the darkening damp.

The rain had subsided, but the clouds hadn’t gone away. It was September, the day was waning.

What was outside was now the mood in her office.

“Lucinda,” he called gently.

Her gaze cut to him. “Please, do what you can?”

He nodded. “I’ll talk to Moran. We’ll see what we can do.”

She drummed her fingers on her desk again.

He watched her openly while he ate.

She was right, the sandwich was superb, though it was a shocker, the potato chips might have been the best thing on the plate.

He was washing it down with sparkling water that he’d put both the lemon and lime in when he broached it.

“I don’t know how hard this is,” he said. “I’ve never had someone I cared about murdered. But I’ve been where I’m sitting too many times in my twenty years of experience, so I’m sensing you’ve held something back regarding your relationship with Brittanie.”

“You know,” was her strange reply.

“I don’t,” he returned.

“People, on the whole, but women especially have two choices in life. A walk-on part in the war, or a lead role in a cage.”

Rus felt his innards tighten.

He knew those words.

They were hopeless words.

Lucinda kept talking.

“Me, and my mother and my grandmother, for generations, have done what we could to offer another choice to the women who walked through our doors. There’s freedom in claiming domain of your agency. I’ve heard countless stories that would shock most, but not you. Brittanie’s was neither better nor worse than many others. What she was, was mine.”

Now they were getting somewhere.

So he wouldn’t spook her, Rus was back to gentle when he prompted, “How was she yours?”

“On occasion, she babysat my daughter.”

Well…

Shit.

He’d been right, but damned if he wasn’t ticked about it.

Therefore, it was not gentle, but irritated, when he said, “Lucinda, these are things I need to know.”

“I wasn’t ready to share.”

“I can’t wait for you to share. You said your relationship with her happened in these walls.”

“That relationship wasn’t mine. It was Madden’s.”

Right.

Now he was getting pissed.

“That’s bullshit,” he clipped. “It’s also a distinction you don’t get to make, and you know it. I make those decisions.”

Her mouth tightened.

She untightened it to hand him more bullshit.

“The walls it happened in were in my home, which is down the valley, and I’ve always considered it part of the whole of Bon Amie.”

“You know this is too important for you to play word games with me, and definitely too important for you to use those games to lie to me.”

Her jaw bulged as she clenched her teeth.

She knew.

He swung his arm behind him and stabbed a finger at the door.

“That’s your kingdom, Lucinda. You don’t get to decide on me. Brittanie was yours, but whether you approve or not, she’s now mine.”

“You’re right,” she said tersely.

“I know,” he fired back.

She glared at him, and there was sulk in that glare. Seeing it, it was a relief she could be human, and it was a turn-on to know she had some latent cuteness.

But they needed to get shit straight.

“What else didn’t you tell me?”

That was when she verbally punched him right in the throat.

“Madden adored her, she adored Madden. So how do I tell my baby girl her big sister is dead?”

“Shit, Lucinda,” he whispered.

Knowing he was no longer feeling anything close to pissed, she pressed her advantage.

“I want her, Agent Lazarus.”

“I can’t—”

“I. Want. Her.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

She leaned his way. “I want her.”

“Honey,” he said softly, “I can’t make promises, but I swear to you right now, I’ll do what I can.”

She snapped her mouth shut, sat back and cut her eyes again to the window.

“You didn’t let her waitress for you when she needed money, but you let her watch Madden to help her out,” he deduced.

She refused to admit to that.

She said, “You heard Keyleigh. Britt loved kids.”

She let her watch Madden to help her out.

In fact, he’d lay money on the fact Brittanie Iverson was the highest paid babysitter in the county.

“She wanted her own one day,” she went on, her gaze coming back to him. “She was going to be nothing like her mom. When someone is starved for love all their lives, they go one of two ways. Either they have no idea what it is, so they can’t give nor receive it, or they have so much of it pent up, when they find someone worthy of it, it explodes all over the place.”

“It exploded for Madden,” he guessed.

She didn’t confirm.

She said, “There’s nothing more I didn’t tell you. You’re right. I was testing you. You handled me well, you handled Keyleigh well.”

She left it at that, but he got what was unsaid.

So it was half joke, half true when he replied, “I’m pleased to earn your approval.”

“I’ll have your appointments sorted for tomorrow, starting at one.”

Brittanie might now be his, but those were his marching orders.

At that, he couldn’t beat back the smile, but he dropped his head to hide it as he stood.

However, one more thing…

He tossed his napkin on the tray and looked to her.

“Is there something between you and Melanie Iverson I need to know?”

She shook her head. “Outside her being shit as a mom so Brittanie felt unworthy and needed to search for that worth in men she could attract or steal, no. This wasn’t abuse, precisely. It wasn’t neglect, as such. It also wasn’t competition, exactly. It was all of those in a unique package that’s Melanie. You’ll know when you meet her, Agent Lazarus. You’ll know more when you meet Dakota. These days, people spend a lot of time talking about how our country has gone to hell. They say we need church. They say kids need discipline and faith. They’re wrong. They simply need someone to give a shit.”

“I can’t argue that.”

“I know you can’t.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at one.”

“Come at twelve thirty. I’ll have a sandwich waiting for you.”

“You don’t have to feed me.”

“Yes, I do, Agent Lazarus, because in case you haven’t noticed, I give a shit.”

Christ God, he had a huge fucking problem.

Because he really wanted to kiss her.

This being, of course, before he fucked her.

“I’ll be here at twelve thirty,” he said low.

“I’ll see you then.”

With that, because he had things to do, even though he didn’t want to, he turned and walked away from Lucinda Bonner.

He was okay with that.

But only because he’d be back the next day at twelve thirty.