Page 107 of A Matter of Time

It was a tiny apartment, but clean and very tastefully furnished. The windows could be opened wide, and without screens you could lean out into the sky and listen to the music from the jazz piano bar across the street. In the summer there was only the moist breeze through the windows, and in the winter just one radiator in the whole place. He’d told me to wear socks and I’d be fine.

The building had an outer door that a resident needed a key for, or a visitor could be buzzed through. The inner door locked automatically, and you either stepped instantly to the apartment door to the right, turned to the left and got your mail, or took the flight of stairs in front of you to the second floor. I would be on the fourth, and when I called my boss from the cab after gathering all my possessions from Sam’s place, I asked him if he still owned it. He did. I then asked if anyone was living in it. No one was. I asked if I could and he said yes, very fast. He told me he would send movers to my old place in Oak Park first thing the following morning to get my mattress and box spring. I would have to sleep on the couch the first night. He would meet me there in half an hour to give me the keys.

“Don’t you even want to know why I’m finally taking you up on your offer?”

“I don’t care. I just want you out of the hovel you currently live in.”

“You never said how much you hated it.”

“It wasn’t my place to let my sentiments be known…until now.”

I sighed. “Listen, I don’t want charity, boss. I can hire my own movers.”

“No, you can’t,” he assured me. “My movers will clean up your place so you can get your deposit back after they bring over your bed. Do you have anything else left over there at all?”

“Some cottage cheese that used to be milk in the fridge and a few granola bars.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I have a lava lamp.”

He ignored my comment. “You have your laptop and all your clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Wait for me on the front stoop.”

He was in his Sunday afternoon clothes—cashmere trench coat and a charcoal suit with a navy polo underneath—and his boots clipped the pavement as he walked toward me.

“Sorry,” I called over to him.

I barely got a smile, just the curl of his lip at the corner. “You exhaust me,” he said softly, the voice husky and deep. “But I seem to enjoy it.”

I smiled as my phone rang and I saw Sam’s number flash on my display.

“Shall I?” he asked me, holding out his hand. I traded him my phone for the keys.

“Detective Kage,” he said politely. “This is Dane Harcourt, Jory’s boss. Yes, very well, thank you. Uh-huh, yes…yes, he is. No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I have decided that I can’t, in good conscience, have Jory stay with you a moment longer. It would be too great an imposition for you, as your lifestyles are nothing alike. With that in mind, I’ve moved him into an apartment of mine that I can assure you is very secure and quite tucked away. He’ll be safe there and safe at work, so you give us a call when you’re ready for him to show up at court.” He listened a moment. “Sorry? Oh no, no, it’s no trouble at all. I mean, let’s be blunt, once the trial concludes, you would have been sending him back home anyway. This way he can move now and get settled into a new life, a new routine. I mean, you didn’t really want to be saddled with him anyway, did you?”

I waited, straining to hear.

“There, see, I didn’t think so,” he said nonchalantly. “Please do call me, Detective, when you need him.” One perfectly shaped brow arched elegantly. “Because, unlike you, I have a vested interest in his welfare. I can’t get along without him.” He finished with a deep rumbling chuckle. “Thank you, Detective, you too,” he said as he hung up, smiling at me.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he grunted. “Now listen to me. The corner store has all the staples you’ll need, to your right is a really good Cuban place, to your left is a fairly good Chinese restaurant, and finally, there is an exceptionally good record store that still sells vinyl five doors down.”

“Thanks, boss. I’m sure walking around at night in this neighborhood will be fun.”

“Indeed.”

“We haven’t even talked about the rent yet.”

“I’m not worried about it, Jory. I know where you work.”

I smiled at him, and he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed tight. “Watch some TV, go get some Cuban food…relax. Sit in the window and freeze. Whatever you want.”

I nodded.