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The Flannigan family held a small funeral for Mick, in which her dad was in attendance. Despite the pisspoor ending to Mick’s story, it still had been a lifelong friendship and Layne was sure that deep down her father had to mourn the tragedy in his own way.
Rebecca had summoned her natural inner caretaker, bringing Layne a series of homemade foods to help stock up a freezer stash. Layne was confident that she would never have to order takeout, like, ever again. Amongst the variety of foods, there was a particularly delicious-looking turkey tetrazzini she was looking forward to digging into tonight. In addition to all the meal prep, her bestie had left her very strict instructions pinned to the fridge:
1. Get rest.
2. Seriously. See #1 above.
3. Do your physical therapy.
4. Eat something.
5. Hydrate.
6. Binge-watch trashy TV.
7. Call me ASAP if you need anything.
XoXo, Rebecca
Layne had done her best to abide by the rules set forth for her, but listening to directions wasn’t her strong suit. To make sure Layne didn’t completely disregard her, Rebecca insisted on coming over for a taco night tomorrow.
After the ding of the microwave chimed, Layne grabbed the corner of the steamy hot bag of popcorn and brought it into the living room. The distinct aroma of the buttery snack filled the air as she took her seat on her sofa. She used her teeth to tug on one corner while pulling the other with her right hand to pry open the bag. Setting the bag in her lap, she grabbed the remote on the cushion next to her and unpaused an episode of You.
“Man, that guy is a freak.” A husky voice that made her legs weak commented from behind her. Knocking her popcorn off her lap onto the floor, she spun around in her seat to look back at Joey. Layne’s first instinct was to greet him with a smile, and she struggled to prevent it from tugging at her lips when she saw him standing there behind her couch.
“Says the guy who has made a habit of having never not broken into my house.” She picked up a kernel of popcorn off the sofa and flicked it at him.
“If you want, I can go back outside and ring the doorbell if it would make you feel better.” He had a smartass smirk on his face, but instead of making good on that offer, he leaned over onto the back of the couch on his forearms, a warm sparkle in his puppy dog brown eyes.
She turned back around in her seat doing her best to ignore the charm he was trying to pour on just by giving her that look. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Figured you could use some company.” He spoke like he hadn’t been invisible for the last week and a half.
“I could have used company the night I got shot.” She fired right back at him casually.
He audibly sighed behind her, not with annoyance but with the knowledge that he had some damage control to do here. Layne kept her eyes focused on the television, but her brain wasn’t focused enough to retain what was happening onscreen.
“Look, I know I haven’t been around. I couldn’t be.” Kudos to him for sounding decently apologetic.
“Oh?” Not hiding the disinterest in her voice.
“Layne, don’t be like that.” He begged of her.
“Like what?” Feigning ignorance at what he was possibly referring to.
“You know what. I get it, you’re pissed, and you have every right to be.”
She rose from the couch and walked over to a drawer on the far side of her coffee table. Using her uninjured arm, she pulled it open and retrieved a manilla folder with some papers in it. Going around the back of the couch, she shoved the file into his hands.
Joey took the folder, opened it up, and flipped through a few pages. His face fell at what was inside. Sheet after sheet of information on the very thing he had been avoiding telling her. Documents reflecting his assistance in police investigations as an informant.
“Pissed? I don’t think that even begins to describe what I felt when my guy brought this to my attention. I saw you that night acting like you and that cop were best bros. From there, I started to piece it all together. I had hoped I was wrong, Joey, I really did. You knew things about the 227 project that Franzetti didn’t even know. The way you acted when we encountered those two officers in the subway. Not to mention all the other things I ignored because I have been so stupidly blinded by you.”
“Layne,” he reached out to touch her arm.
She pulled back from him. “Don’t.” She stared at him, searching for a sign of who he really was underneath the façade he put up. “How long have you been feeding information to the cops? The entire time I’ve known you?”
He stood there silently, confirming her assumption.
