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“Disabled,” he says, as James chuckles in his chair. “But remind me to talk to you about something.”
That’s the second time he’s mentioned talking. “Is my mum okay?” I saw her a couple hours ago looking as happy as a pig in shit doing her thing in the kitchen.
“She’s fine.” He points to the screen. “Officer Richard Bean.”
I turn my eyes to the laptop. And recoil. “Fuck, he’s nearly as ugly as Ringo.”
“Who is?” We all look up and find the man himself gazing around the table at us.
“Him.” I point at the screen.
Ringo grimaces at the picture of Bean. “He’s definitely uglier than I am.”
“I don’t agree,” someone else says—someone who’s not at the table. “You’re way uglier.”
I lean back in my chair at the sound of the voice, as James sits up straight and Otto turns his head slowly. Goldie looks between us all, tugging down the sleeves of her suit jacket.
“Don’t all rush to welcome me back at once.”
I slowly turn my eyes onto James, assessing his disposition. It’s as I expected. He doesn’t look happy. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, rising. “You’re supposed to be on holiday, walking in the park, eating ice-fucking-creams, enjoying freedom.”
Freedom from James’s demons. That’s what he means. We all knew Goldie wouldn’t break away until whoever killed James’s family was taken care of, and it was taken care of the day Beau killed her mother.
“I heard some dead bodies turned up.” Goldie pulls out a chair, unfazed by James’s grumpy vibes. “I also heard Bernard King’s name thrown into the mix.” Her eyes drop to Otto’s stomach.
“Heard from who?” James glares at Ringo accusingly, and he shrugs, unperturbed. I smile. I know the ugly fuck missed our she-warrior. I think perhaps Goldie missed Ringo too. And here they are. Reunited. Let the banter commence.
“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” I ask, reminding James that we have bigger issues to worry about. Besides, I get the feeling Goldie’s holiday wasn’t all she thought it was going to be. I look between her and Ringo, wondering . . .
“Who is it, anyway?” Ringo asks, sitting, motioning to the screen.
“Officer Richard Bean,” I explain, taking a drag of my forgotten cigarette before it burns out. I flick it into the sea. “His kid, Preston, attends the same school as Daniel. They had a few words and Daniel’s been thrown out.”
“Basically,” James says, “Bean’s been saying things he shouldn’t have been saying to Bean junior, and Bean junior’s been antagonizing the kid.”
“Fuck me, was that a tongue twister?” I ask over a laugh.
James eyes me, his expression irked. “Otto’s been doing some digging and found Bean’s been talking?—”
Ringo starts sniggering. “I can’t take this seriously.”
“Bean has been?—”
“No.” Ringo chuckles, falling back in his chair. “Doesn’t work.”
Otto throws his hands up, exasperated.
“The cop,” I say. “Let’s just call him the cop.”
“The cop has been in contact with Nolan,” Otto finishes, and doesn’t that shut Ringo the fuck up. Yeah. My thoughts exactly.
“Does Brad know?” Goldie asks, frowning. “And where is he, anyway?”
“Probably hanging out the back of a hooker,” I murmur, rubbing at my forehead.
“Seriously, Danny.” Goldie’s face is pure disgust. “So he’s still a moody bastard?”
“Affirmative.” James eyes are on me, obviously thinking the same thing. Pearl. He’s moody because of Pearl. And it was hard seeing him so torn up in the club yesterday—admitting he’s struggling. Acknowledging the problem. He won’t fuck her. I know that much. And she seems pretty disgusted by him. Plus, there was a woman in his room this morning. Which means what? I blink, my head hurting.
