“So it’s not my fault?” Grade asked.
Dory looked up and gave him an aggrieved look. “Not everything is about you, Grade.”
He hooked his arm onto the bed and pulled himself up. “In that case,” he said, “why are you being such a cow to me?”
Dory didn’t look up as she shrugged, her hands wrapped tightly around the mug.
“Just felt shitty,” she said. “I wanted to share.”
“Work?” Grade asked. “Has someone been bothering you?”
“No more than usual,” Dory said. She looked up and pulled a face at whatever Grade’s expression looked like. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Work is nothing I can’t handle, nothing I didn’t handle when you weren’t here. You don’t have to sic your boyfriend on anyone.”
“Well, you didn’t have to sic Mom on me,” Grade said. “But you did anyhow.”
Dory handed him the mug and leaned over the side of the bed to grab the strap of her backpack. She hefted it up off the floor and into her lap so she could search through it. While he waited for her to finish, Grade took a sip of tea. He nearly spat it back into the cup. He’d forgotten how many sugars Dory took, even though he’d been the one to spoon them in.
“There’s this guy that comes to the Choke. Verne,” she said. “He’s usually one of Alina’s regulars, but a couple of weeks ago she got Covid, and I covered her shift. Verne likes to talk.”
“You should get extra for that,” Grade said.
Dory gave him an aggrieved look through her lashes. “Not like that,” she said. “Just conversation.”
“I know,” Grade said. “That’s my point.”
“This thing you have with Traynor?” Dory said as she pulled an envelope out of the bag and handed it to him. “You need to lock that down because I don’t know who else would want you.”
There was money in the envelope. Grade had a lot of experience with discreet packets of cash, and he’d say there was about a couple of grand here. It was thinner than most people expected. He turned the envelope over. The flap at the back had been peeled up and stuck back down, bits of it torn and wrinkled.
“Are you paying me to go away?” he asked. “That will work.”
Dory made an annoyed sound as she took the cup of tea off him. “Verne’s a skip tracer,” she said. “A good one, apparently. I told him about Dad and asked if he had any tips, and he offered to look into it for us.”
The “us” made Grade bite his tongue before he said something he’d regret. He’d never bought into Dory’s faith that Dad would come back one day. Tommy Pulaski was either dead andcouldn’tcome back, or he’d dumped his family for 100 grand in stolen drugs and justwouldn’t.
But Grade’s penance for getting Dory dragged into the Buchanan mess was that he didn’t get to argue with her about it anymore. That was harder for him than it should be. Luckily there were plenty of other things to argue about.
“Dory, people will say a lot of shit for two grand.”
“I wave my titties around for tips,” Dory said. “I know what people will do for money. Better than you.”
“Sure,” Grade said. “Because I don’t do anything gross for cash.”
Dory gave him a thin, smug slice of a smile. “Don’t talk about Traynor that way, Grade.” She ignored the face Grade pulled at her. “It’s not like I just took his word for it. I checked him and ran down his references. He’s legit. Lonely, but legit.”
Shit. It would have been easier for Grade if she’d not done that. As it was, she’d done her research, thought about the pitfalls, and…
“It’s your money,” Grade said reluctantly as he handed the money back. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but it’s not my call. You can do what you want.”
“Wow,” Dory deadpanned. “Can I really?”
She didn’t take the envelope, though. Grade put it down on the bedspread between them and waited.
“Besides, you’re a bit late,” Dory said finally. She finished her tea and leaned over to set the mug on the nightstand. “I already gave him the money. A couple of months ago after—after what happened.”
That meant, Grade supposed, that it sort of was his fault after all.
“And what?” he asked. “Now he needs some more money to pay a bribe or hire a hacker? Come on, Dory. You know better than that. He salted you.”
