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“Just a regular piece of letter-sized white typing paper. With numbers written on it.”
“Handwritten? Typed?”
“Handwritten. Fuck! Handwritten!”
“What’s the difference?”
“Handwriting. You can tell a lot about someone by handwriting. I used to use handwriting experts all the time.”
“Okay. Good. But you have a picture, so you have the handwriting.”
“Yeah. I still want to look for it, though. You’re right. It’s probably fine, but what if… What if someone finds it, someone who…”
Who what? I want to ask. But I don’t. He needs me to be calm. “All right. We’ll look for it. Where do we start?”
“The wind was blowing to the east, I think, when it blew out of my hand while I was on the balcony in our room.”
“Then we walk east.”
Donny and I begin our quest, and I look around. There’s not a lot of litter in Denver, which is a good thing. So when I see a piece of white paper, I zero in on it. I lean down and pick it up. But it’s only a flyer for an upcoming concert. I scrunch it up and throw it in the next wastebasket that we pass. Once we’ve walked an entire city block, I tug on Donny’s hand. “You want to continue?”
“Yeah.”
I honestly feel like this is a losing proposition, but if it makes him feel better, I’m all in.
Another city block, and nothing.
Donny sighs then. “It’s gone.”
“Donny, I wouldn’t worry. The chance that the person who finds it will know what those numbers are is one in a zillion. If anyone finds it at all.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that when you’re a Steel, sometimes things have a way of finding you and biting you in the ass.”
I’m not sure how to respond. I’ve spent so many years thinking the Steels are golden, and now I know they’re not. Financially, of course they are. But money isn’t everything. And right now, Donny’s fighting some kind of demon—a demon that may be more dangerous than the one I’m fighting myself.
Pat Lamone is no one. In the end, he can’t really hurt Rory and me. He can make our lives a little more difficult, but what can he really do to us? We didn’t commit a crime, and even if he finagles evidence and tries to prove that we did, the statute of limitations will protect us as much as it will protect him. We can’t be sent away. So our reputations get a little bit of trashing. We can handle that. We won’t have a choice.
So the Steels aren’t golden.
Neither are the Pikes.
Unfortunately, none of that makes me feel any better.
“You want to go back to the room?” I ask Donny.
“I suppose.”
“Are you hungry? We could stop for lunch somewhere.”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t eat, but if you’re hungry, sure.”
I haven’t been hungry since we ran into Pat Lamone. “Let’s go back. If we’re hungry later, we can call room service.”
“Callie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For helping me try to find it.”
“I’ll do anything for you, Donny. You know that, right?”
He nods. “I’d do the same for you. You still have to level with me about what’s going on.”
“I will,” I promise. “Will you do the same?”
“I have. You know everything. The mistakes I’ve made. How I let my need for information blind me to my ethics.”
“For a hot second,” I say. “You fixed it.”
“Not before Murphy’s place got trashed.”
“You’ll take care of that.”
“Yeah, I will. A Steel always cleans up his own mess.”
His words are not lost on me. I believe them. I believe a Steel does clean up his own mess.
The Pikes should adhere to that same philosophy.
Rory and I didn’t create the mess that we’re in. Pat Lamone did. But we added to it. We could have let sleeping dogs lie.
But we were young. Hormonal. Full of anxiety and energy.
We didn’t let the sleeping dog lie.
And now I fear we will pay the price.
Chapter Forty-Three
Donny
Callie’s presence soothes me. Much like Dale’s did during those dark days. Much like Mom’s did when Dale and I first came to the ranch.
I’ve always found others comforting, which is probably why I go outward to deal with stuff while Dale goes inward.
He only needs himself.
Until now.
Me? I’ve always needed others. It’s one of my weaknesses.
I don’t want to need others.
I don’t want to put Callie in that position. She deserves better.
Which is why I’m going to have to let her go.
A vise squeezes my heart. It will kill me. My life will be a shadow without her brightness. But I love her that much. Enough to let her go, to have a life free from my mess.
Yet here she is, her touch a comfort to my soul. Just her presence brings me peace.
But I have Mom for that. I have Dale for that.
They can’t give me all that Callie gives me, though, and once, before I free her, I’m going to do what I’ve been promising.
