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“Hello?”
“Is this Mr. Varden Gallagher?”
“Yes, it is. Who’s this?”
“The San Francisco Police Department. Your brother, Beaumont, asked us to call you.”
Shit. What was he up to now?
“Mr. Gallagher, your brother’s been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct.”
“Is he all right?”
“He was in a fight but is okay. Do you want to come bail him out?”
“Yes. Yes, I will. I’ll head over right now. Thank you.”
I whipped the car around to head for the county jail on Seventh Street. The sad thing was, I’d been there so many times to pick up Beau that I actually knew where to find the best street parking.
I headed straight for the information window. It was always where they had you start.
“I’m here for my brother, Beau Gallagher.”
The clerk couldn’t have looked more bored she as she clicked on her keyboard. She handed me some papers and directed me to another window to post bail.
After waiting twenty minutes for my number to be called, I approached the payment window.
“You’re bailing your brother out? What a nice guy.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
The truth was, I’d been bailing my brother out for a long time, whether it was saving his ass in fights when we were kids, sending him to rehab, or getting him out of jail. The two of us had come a long way from our humble beginnings, but Beau always hovered inches away from slipping into the same alcoholic despair that had ruined our dad’s life. And nearly ruined ours.
They escorted Beau to the waiting area. The shame on his face was so painful I looked down at my own feet.
“Var. Thanks, bro,” Beau said in a quiet voice.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all good, Beau. Ready to roll?”
“Yeah. Let’s get the hell out of this shithole.”
The drive to my place was silent. I didn’t need to ask Beau if he wanted to crash at my place for the night—it was what we did when he’d fucked up. He’d come home with me for a day or two and then go back to his own place, clean up, and commit to staying sober until it all went down again.
“Beau, do you mind if I go out for a while?” I asked after he was settled into the guest room.
“Nah, go for it. I’ll watch some TV and crash after I clean up.”
“I’ll see you in the morning then?”
“Sure. And Var?”
“Yeah?”
Beau avoided my gaze, busying himself with the bed sheets. “Um. Thanks.”
I nodded. After I’d pulled the apartment door shut, I took a deep breath and headed out for the evening’s second act. Time to let off some steam.
Chapter 8
