Brandon handed Jamie and Dillon each a cup of steaming coffee. They were the only three people in the waiting room of Chicago General's I.C.U. at the moment, and Jamie was grateful. He couldn't get the picture of Ash's limp body from his mind. He felt sick, and he felt responsible. If he hadn't given Ash that letter, none of this would have happened. His only consolation right now was that Ash was still alive, albeit barely. Well, that and the fact that Brandon wasn't questioning the story Dillon and Jamie had given him. At least, not yet anyway.
Brandon sat down across from Dillon and stretched his long legs in front of himself. "Okay, let's go through this one more time, just so I'll have it all straight in my head when I go back to the station to file my report. You say you went to see Ash because you had some papers that belonged to him and needed to give them back."
Jamie said, "Yes, sir," and felt the slight nudge from Dillon's knee. Since they were sitting side by side, Brandon didn't seem to notice it, but Jamie got the message, loud and clear. He knew Dillon wanted him to tell Brandon everything, but Jamie couldn't do it. Not until he knew what Ben was doing out on Tully Road that night. Not until he had a chance to get a few things settled in his mind.
Brandon took a sip of his coffee. "When you got there, did he seem anxious, depressed at all?"
Jamie played it off. "I don't really know Ash that well, Sheriff. Not well enough to judge his mood."
"Uh huh. And these papers you say you had of his, what were they, and how did you come to have them in your possession?" "I didn't read them, Sheriff." True enough. Dillon had read the letter out loud at Ash's request. "I'm not really sure why I ended up with them, but when I realized the papers belonged to Ash, Dillon and I took them over there."
Brandon narrowed his eyes. "So the fact that you were at Ashton Barnes's house the night he tried to off himself was just some stellar coincidence? Some cosmic mistake?"
"Oh, yeah. No doubt." Jamie wasn't lying in the least when he said that part. This whole thing was a mistake, from beginning to end. Jamie still loved Ben, loved the memory of him, but he was blown away by his first real glimpse of Ben's mercenary side. How could Ben be so loving with him, and so damned cold towards everyone else? It made no sense.
Brandon crossed his ankles. "Well, whatever the circumstances, Ashton is damned lucky you showed up when you did. What did he do, get up to go to the bathroom and then lash a belt to his neck while he was in there?"
Jamie shrugged. "I'm not sure what he was thinking." True again. He couldn't imagine what Ash must have been thinking.
"What made you decide to go back to the bathroom to check on him? Did you have a reason to be worried about him?"
Jamie was this close to coming apart under the questioning. He was grateful when Dillon stepped in. "Actually, Jamie had to pee, Sheriff. He figured Ash would be finished. Speaking of Ash, how is he?"
Brandon sighed. "I'm not sure. As soon as I got the call from the nine-one-one dispatcher about a possible attempted suicide--and found out who it was--I called my brother, Keith, who's a neurologist here on staff, and asked him to take the case. It's not unusual for me to request a specific doctor for a case, and Keith is one of the best. If anyone can put Ash back to rights, it's him."
"Wait a minute. What case? Ash hasn't committed a crime or anything."
Brandon made his voice sound as gentle as he could. "Jamie, he tried to commit suicide. That's not something to be taken lightly. If Ash does pull through, it's gonna be a while before he can go back home. He'll need to see a team of psychiatrists and counselors, and those guys will have to be satisfied that Ash won't try to kill himself again before they let him leave. Even then, he's gonna need therapy, maybe even medication."
Jamie rubbed his hands over his face. God, what a mess. Dillon leaned forward. "Here comes Keith."
Jamie looked up to see the eldest Nash brother coming down the hall. Keith Nash looked a lot like Brandon, dark haired and blue eyed, but there was no doubt which one was the doctor and which one was the sheriff. Keith just screamed bedside manner, while Brandon was the picture of a no-nonsense cop.
Brandon, Jamie, and Dillon all stood as Keith held out his hand to Jamie. "Keith Nash, brother to Megan and this lug right here, as well five assorted others."
Jamie shook his hand. "James Walker. Megan talks about you a lot."
Keith beamed. "Of course she does. I'm her favorite brother."
Brandon elbowed him in the ribs. "Quit clowning and tell us about Ash."
Keith eyed Jamie and Dillon. "Normally I'd only give this information to Ashton's next of kin." He looked to Bran. "Any luck getting in touch with his dad?"
"Not yet. I got through to the secretary at Barnes Securities, his dad's company. She said she'd try to reach him, but I have no idea when that will be."
Keith nodded. "Since these two saved Ashton's life, I'm sure his father won't mind if I bend the rules just this once. If he does, he can take it up with you." He grinned at Brandon.
Bran said, "Gee, thanks. Why don't we sit back down and then you can give us the update?"
The four of them chose their chairs, Keith and Bran facing Jamie and Dillon. Keith said, "From the E.M.T. report and your own statements, the best we can figure is that Ash was only without oxygen for two minutes, tops. That's a good thing. The M.R.I. shows no obvious signs of brain or spinal cord trauma, again, a good thing. His vital signs were faint and iffy when he came in here, but now they're steady and climbing, the third ball in our court." He shifted in his chair. "Now for the not so good. Ash is still not conscious, and we can't find an obvious cause. I'm guessing shock, but like I say, that's just speculation on my part. He's got a two-inch contusion encompassing the circumference of his neck, most noticeable in the front where the bulk of the force was exerted against his skin, and there's no doubt it'll leave a scar. A good plastic surgeon could probably decrease the appearance of the scar, but he'll always have a slight reminder of what he tried to do. That won't be his only reminder, either. Ashton's vocal cords were damaged. He'll be able to talk, but his voice will never sound the same. Even with all that, though, he's one lucky young man. Our goal now is to keep him from ever trying this again."
"I already explained to them about the observation and the counseling." Brandon stood up, stretching. "I'm gonna try one more time to light a fire under that secretary's butt, and then I'm off to the station to fill out a report." Bran clapped his brother on the back. "Keep me posted." He squeezed first Dillon and then Jamie on the shoulder. "You two call me if you need me, or if you think of anything else that might help Ash." The look he gave them let Jamie know that Brandon had no doubts they were hiding something. Thank God he wasn't pressing it. With one last goodbye to all three of them, Brandon left.
Keith stood as well, prompting Dillon and Jamie to rise to their feet. "I've got another critical patient upstairs, so I'm gonna go back up. Why don't the two of you head on home? It'll be hours before Ash wakes up, I'm guessing, and even then, you'll have to wait until he's moved out of I.C.U. before you can see him."
That sounded like a plan to Jamie. He was tired, tired of all the sickness and death, and tired of trying to reconcile his memories of Ben the friend with his knowledge of Ben the blackmailer. He felt Dillon take his hand and lead him towards the exit. Jamie was more than happy to go.
The elevator ride down to the parking garage was largely silent. It wasn't until they were halfway between floors nine and ten that Dillon said, "Are you so quiet because you're worried about Ash or because you're thinking about Ben and what he did?" Jamie grimaced. "A little of both, I guess. Well, that and I'm still trying to figure out what Ben was doing out on Tully Road when he'd promised to meet Ash at Tanner Textile."
Dillon leaned against the south wall of the elevator. "Maybe he just said that to get Ash off his back. Promising to meet somebody and then standing them up is a sure way to get that 'fuck off' vibe across to them."
Jamie shook his head. "I don't think so. Ben was way too direct for that. If he'd wanted to tell Ash to fuck off, he would have just said it. No, if Ben told Ash he was gonna meet him, he was planning on following through."
Dillon said, "Maybe," but Jamie could tell he had his doubts. After a few minutes of silence, Dillon picked back up with, "So, what's the plan?"
Jamie did his best to project the proverbial halo. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Come off it, Jamie. This is me you're talking to." The elevator doors opened to their floor just as he said it. Dillon took Jamie's hand and led him out. "I've known you too long for that to fly. You've always got some kind of plan. You're a whole lot like Megan on that score."
Jamie gave in. "All right. I'll tell you what I'm thinking, but you aren't gonna like it."
* * *
Just as Jamie predicted, Dillon didn't like what he was planning. Even so, Dillon was supportive and offered only minimal protest when they pulled up in front of the Reed County Jail the following Monday after school.
"You sure you want to do this?"
"I'm sure. The only person who might have seen anything that night--that we know of, anyway--was Barry Sledge. He's the last person ever to see Ben, and if Ben was up to something that night, Sledge might have seen it."
"Jamie, the guy's in jail for vehicular homicide. He hasn't even been sentenced yet. What makes you think he's gonna tell you anything?" Jamie reached for the door handle. "He may not say a single word to me, but I don't have anything to lose by trying. I'm hoping that if I approach him the right way and show him that I'm not any kind of a threat, he'll open up to me. That's one of the reasons I want to go in by myself. If you come with me, he might not say anything. One on one is better."
"I understand, but just be careful. And hurry. Keith sent word through Megan that we can see Ash this afternoon."
"He's awake, then?"
"Awake and in his own room." Dillon left the car running and leaned back in the seat. "I'll wait here for you." Jamie reached for the door handle just as Dillon said, "Hey, Jamie?"
"Yeah?"
"I . . ." He trailed off, and Jamie could tell he was measuring his words. Finally, he said, "I'm here if you need me."
Jamie leaned over and gave Dillon's lips a soft brush with his own. "I know that. Why do you think I've made it through this whole mess as well as I have?" He left before Dillon could say anything else.
* * *
The Reed County Jail wasn't a place Jamie wanted to become well acquainted with. Unlike the small cluster of holding cells attached to the sheriff's office, the county jail had the look of a prison, from the gray, peeling paint on the walls to the stands of metal detectors anchored in the lobby. In essence, it was a prison, the place where the most serious offenders were held over for trial, and where those serving less than a year did their time. After signing in, Jamie was led to the visitor's area, a row of glassed-in booths with phones on either side of the glass. The officer in charge instructed Jamie to have a seat at booth seven and wait. Jamie swallowed against the butterflies in his stomach and did as he was told.
Barry Sledge came out a few minutes later. Even with the orange jumpsuit and the cuffs encircling his wrists, Sledge didn't look like a killer. Jamie did his best to remember that this man was responsible for Ben's death, but one look at Sledge's pitted face and brown, sorrow-filled eyes had Jamie feeling pity for the man. Sledge sat down and picked up the phone, motioning for Jamie to do the same. Jamie picked up in time to hear Sledge say, "There must be a mistake here. I was told I had a visitor, but I don't know you." His voice was scratchy and strained, years of alcohol abuse having made its mark.
Here goes. "Mr. Sledge, my name is James Walker, and I need to talk to you. I promise I'll make it quick." Jamie hesitated. "I'm a friend of Ben Lewis."
All the color drained from Sledge's normally ruddy face. He started to hang up the phone, but Jamie wasn't about to let that happen. "Wait, don't hang up. Please. I promise I'll make it quick, but this is important, and you're the only one I can ask."
Sledge hesitated but put the phone back to his ear, giving Jamie the window he needed to say, "I'm not here to talk about the accident, not really. I have reason to believe my friend was supposed to have been somewhere besides Tully Road that night. Since you were the last person to, uh . . . see him, I was hoping maybe you saw something--anything--that might help me figure out what he was doing out there."
Sledge looked around, making sure no one was standing behind him. Finally, he said, "Look, kid, all I can tell you is what I told the cops when they picked me up. I was driving home from Philly's Tavern when I saw this kid laying in the middle of the road. I tried to slow down, but he was wearing black and I didn't see him until it was too late. There wasn't anything I could do for him, so I split. I didn't see nothing or no one besides that."
Jamie's mind was reeling. "What do you mean Ben was 'laying in the middle of the road?'"
Sledge screwed up his face. "What are you, deaf? I meant just what I said. I was moving along Tully Road at a fair clip and all of a sudden, there was this kid, just laying there." Sledge snorted. "Not that the cops believed me. Thought I was lying just to save my own skin. That court-appointed, ass-wipe lawyer they assigned me swore up and down all the tests confirmed that kid very well could have died from the impact of my car. That's when I knew I couldn't get out of it, so I took the deal the D.A. offered and told em what they wanted to hear. Well, I got news for em: I wasn't lying. I may have hit that guy, but let me tell you something, Mr. James Walker, I didn't kill him. You want my opinion? That boy was dead before I ever came along."
“Jamie, the guy’s a drunk on his way to the pen for God knows how long. He’s bound to be lying to save his own ass.”
“Why now, though? He’s already taken the deal. He’s just waiting for the judge to impose sentence. What could he possibly have to gain by making up this story?”
Dillon waited until the doors closed and then pressed the button for the sixth floor. He did his best to reign in his temper, but he was mad as hell at Sledge for stringing Jamie along. Still, Dillon managed to sound halfway civil when he said, “Who knows why people lie? Maybe he’s one of those sick fucks who enjoys playing games with people’s heads. Or maybe he feels so guilty about offing Ben that he’s made up this thing about Ben already being dead just to make himself feel better. Who knows? I’ll tell you one thing, though. Brandon is gonna be pissed when he finds out you went to see the guy.”
The look on Jamie’s face made Dillon feel guilty, but he couldn’t help it. Jamie needed to understand that Sledge was lying. Dillon wanted this to end, for Jamie’s sake as well as his own.
The elevator doors opened, allowing them passage to the sixth floor of Chicago General. Just before they got off, Dillon raked his fingers across Jamie’s cheek. “You mad at me?”
Jamie moved slightly into Dillon’s hand. “No, I’m not mad at you. I know you’re only saying what you’re saying because you wanna help. Doesn’t mean I agree with you, but I know why you’re saying it.”
That was something, anyway. They walked off the elevator and searched for room six-eighteen, the number the volunteer at the visitor’s desk had given them. They found it without trouble and were just about to go inside when someone said, “Hang on for a second, boys.”
Dillon recognized Ash’s father from the handful of times he’d visited Ash. He’d always liked Mr. Barnes. The guy was friendly, if a little bit immature for a man his age. He was always jetting off, leaving Ash in the hands of housekeepers and nannies. It was just rotten luck that no one was on staff the night Ash tried to do himself in. Dillon’s parents might not be the best in the world, but at least they were always around. Attendance had to count for something.
Ashton Barnes the Second looked nothing like his son. Ash was tall and dark-headed, where Mr. Barnes was medium height and blond. Mr. Barnes was wearing a white silk shirt and black tailored slacks, whereas Ash was jeans and t-shirts all the way. The only similarity at all was the eyes, and, even there, Ash’s eyes were a darker shade of brown than his father’s.
Dillon introduced Mr. Barnes to Jamie. After shaking hands with them both, Barnes said, “Listen, boys, there’s a private waiting area down the hall. Do you think we could go down there and talk?”
Dillon wanted to say no. He’d had enough of waiting rooms and private chats. He took one look at Mr. Barnes’s pleading face and heard himself saying yes just as Jamie said the same thing.
Once they were seated in the waiting room, Mr. Barnes said, “I don’t know how to thank the two of you enough for what you did.” He looked down at his hands where they lay trembling in his lap. “I know I wouldn’t win any father of the year awards, but I do love my son. I’d be lost if anything ever happened to him. When I think about what could have--” He broke off, his face strained with the effort of holding back his tears. Once composed, Barnes said, “I just thank God you were there.”
Jamie shook his head. “Mr. Barnes, you don’t understand. This whole thing was my fault to begin with.”
Dillon was about to protest when Barnes beat him to it. “You can just put that nonsense out of your head, James. I saw the letter, and the pictures. When he woke up, Ash told me everything, including the fact that Ben Lewis was the one who asked you to bring Ash that vile note in the first place. My son also tells me that you had no idea what was in the envelope when you took it to him.”
“That’s true. If I’d known, I never would have taken it over there.”
“I believe that, James, but in a way, I’m glad you did. I wish I’d been there when it happened, so that maybe all of this could have been prevented, but at least now Ash knows the truth about Ben. Maybe this will help him get on with his life and find a good man or woman to love. Someone capable of loving him back.”
Dillon was shocked. “You don’t mind that Ash is bisexual?”
“No, I don’t.” Mr. Barnes fiddled with his sleeve cuffs. “I can’t say that I’m happy, not because he’s bisexual, but because I know that bisexual people face prejudice from both the gay and straight communities alike. It isn’t like he has a choice, though, and I intend to stand by him, no matter what.”
Dillon never thought he’d have reason to envy Ash, but at that moment, he did. Why couldn’t his parents see it the way Mr. Barnes did? He shook himself out of it, just in time to hear Jamie say, “Mr. Barnes, about the money . . .”
“You mean the blackmail money?” Jamie nodded, and Barnes sighed. “I’m so sorry Ash had to find out about that. That’s the only reason I paid Lewis off, you know. I wasn’t worried about him outing Ash like he threatened. That I could handle. I knew, though, that Ash would be crushed when he found out Lewis was just using him. I wanted to protect Ash. I hoped if I paid Lewis off, Ash would never find out.”
Jamie nodded again. “I understand that, Sir, but see, the thing is, Ben left the money to me when he died.”
It was Mr. Barnes turn to look shocked. “You’re kidding.”
“No, Sir. Believe me, I wish I was.” Jamie rubbed his right hand across his face. “Mr. Barnes, that money belongs to you. I want you to have it back.”
“I don’t know what to say. That’s very generous of you, James, but you don’t have to do that. I owe you for saving my son’s life.”
“No, you don’t. To be honest, I wouldn’t feel right about keeping it now, no matter what. Knowing what Ben did, and where that money came from, changes everything.”
Mr. Barnes looked to Dillon. “Is he always this loyal and trustworthy?”
Dillon rubbed his leg against Jamie’s and grinned. “Always.”
Jamie steered the conversation back on topic. “The money is in a safe deposit box. If you’d like to meet me at the bank tomorrow after school, I can give it to you then. I’m not sure how much of it Ben spent, but I do know there’s about forty-two-thousand dollars left.”
“Forty-two-thousand? I’m sorry, James, but you must have miscounted.”
“Like I said, Sir, Ben may have spent some of it--”
Mr. Barnes shook his head. “You misunderstand me, son. I wasn’t trying to say that any money was missing. In fact, just the opposite. I paid Ben one lump sum of twenty-thousand--even. That means there’s twenty-two thousand extra in that box.”
* * *
Jamie and Dillon stood outside the door to Ash’s room. Jamie hoped he’d washed the confusion off his face so Ash couldn’t see it. The last thing Ash needed right now was to be dragged back into this mess.
Dillon knocked on the door. They heard a weak, gravely “Come in,” and entered the room.
Ash was lying in bed wearing a hospital gown and a manufactured smile. He looked like pure hell, but he was alive, and that’s all Jamie cared about. Ash had been victimized by Ben, and for some reason, Jamie felt responsible. If he’d been able to love Ben back, maybe Ash never would have been involved.
Ash broke him out of his morbid thoughts. He motioned to a couple of bedside chairs. “Sit down.”
Dillon took the chair closest to the wall, leaving Jamie to sit directly facing Ash. Jamie had a feeling Dillon had done that on purpose, and Jamie couldn’t fault him. He and Ash needed to talk.
Ash must have had the same idea, because he said, “Dillon, I know I owe you both, but, um . . . do you think I could talk to James alone for a sec?”
Dillon nodded. “I think I’ll run down and get something to drink. You guys want anything?”
Ash managed a laugh. The sound coming through his injured throat reminded Jamie of the scrape of metal against concrete. “ I don’t want anything, thanks. They’re pumping me so full of fluids now I feel like I’m gonna pop.”
“Nothing for me, either, Dillon.”
“I’ll be back in a few, then.” Dillon pulled the door closed as he left.
There was an awkward moment of silence while Ash searched for what he wanted to say, and Jamie waited. After staring down at his hands for a full three minutes, Ash looked up and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Look, Ash, you don’t have to--”
“Please, James. It hurts to talk, so just let me get it out.” Jamie nodded as Ash continued. “I have a whole lot to apologize to you for, from that stupid showdown in the hall, to the way I acted at the church, to trying to kill myself while you and Dillon were in the next room. For what it’s worth, I only tried that at the church because I wanted to know what it was Ben saw in you. I wondered what you had that I didn’t. I guess I thought if I could try you out for myself, I might see it, and then it wouldn’t hurt so bad. Pretty stupid considering the only thing Ben ever actually saw in me was a pay-off.”
“Yeah, well, I loved Ben, and I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop missing him, but in this case, he was an idiot. He could have had something real with you, Ash. It’s not your fault he didn’t seize the opportunity.”
Ash leaned further back into the pillows. “Maybe one day that will matter to me, but right now I can’t really see it that way, ya know?”
“Yeah, I do. I spent a whole two years wondering what was wrong with me, why I couldn’t have the one guy I really wanted. It took me a while, but I finally figured out it was him, not me.”
“That guy, was it Carver?”
“One and the same.”
“And now you and him have the real thing?”
“I think so. That’s what we’re working towards, anyway.” Jamie leaned forward and put one cautious hand on Ash’s arm. “And just because Ben wasn’t it for you, that doesn’t mean there isn’t a guy out there just waiting for you to find him. But, Ash, you’ve got to stay alive to find that, man.”
Ash closed his eyes. “I know. It just hurt so bad. I felt so, I don’t know, lost, I guess. The sheriff’s brother recommended a shrink here at the hospital who’s helping me work through it all. Dr. Carson said as long as I keep all my therapy appointments and submit to an evaluation every month, I can probably go home in a couple of weeks.”
“Cool.” Jamie hesitated. “What about school?”
Ash closed his eyes. “You know, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, man. You may not believe this, but Dillon and I didn’t tell anybody.”
Ash opened his eyes, and the look he gave Jamie was pure sincerity. “I know you didn’t, James. I never even thought that.”
“So, how--”
“How do I think the fact that I’m gay and had a flaming affair with Ben got plastered all over the school?” Ash shrugged. “Who knows? Chad came rushing in here this morning, yelling at me, wanting to know when I turned ‘fag’ on him.” Ash snorted. “Like this is something I did to him. I tried to explain to him that I was pretty much bi, but he didn’t wanna hear it. He left without ever telling me where he heard it, but I gathered it had gotten around, somehow. To be honest with you, I don’t really care, not anymore. So, I’m out. So what? What am I gonna do, kill myself over it? You see how well that worked out the last time.” He pointed to the bandage encompassing his throat. “Believe me when I say I won’t be trying that again.”
Jamie gave Ash’s arm a squeeze before withdrawing his hand. “When can you go back to class?”
“Actually, I won’t have to. Morgan came to see my dad this morning, not long after Chad left. Told him I have enough credits to graduate. My college acceptance is already in, so all I have to do now is wait it out until fall.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m glad I’m not gonna have to face those guys. I’m not worried that they know about me and Ben, but I hate the way people look at you when they know you’ve tried to commit suicide. It’s like they’re just waiting for you to freak out and try it again. I’ve seen enough of that from the few people who’ve visited me. You and Dillon are the first visitors I’ve had who haven’t made me feel like a charity case.”
Jamie nodded. “They look at you the same way when they find out you don’t have parents. A person can only stomach so much pity before he feels like he’s gonna hurl. I understand how you feel.”
Ash smiled, a real smile this time. “I believe you do, James. I really believe you do.”
* * *
Jamie had only been home for twenty-minutes when the phone rang. It couldn’t be Dillon, because he’d just dropped Jamie off on his way in to work. Jamie was tired, and nursing a headache. He hoped the caller would just go away, but after the sixth ring, he gave in. Reminding himself to set the answering machine to take over after the fourth ring next time, Jamie picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Wanna tell me what in the hell you were doing down at the county jail talking to Barry Sledge?”
“Well hello to you, too, Sheriff. Great to hear from you.”
“Don’t dick around with me, Jamie.” Brandon’s voice was hard, but even agitated, Jamie could tell Brandon held no real malice against him. His next words proved his only motivation was concern. “You have no business rubbing elbows with people like Sledge. Haven’t you been hurt enough?”
If Bran was mad about Jamie visiting the jail, he was gonna hate this next part. “I know you’re not happy about me meeting with Sledge, but he said some stuff I think you need to hear.” Jamie took a deep breath. “He said he was pretty sure that Ben was already dead when he hit him.”
“Uh-huh. And did he also tell you that Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy were all planning a coup to break him out of jail, too, because that scenario is just as likely as the one Sledge is trying to sell you.”
Jamie could feel himself getting angry. “So you aren’t even gonna look into it? Ben’s death doesn’t mean enough to you?”
Brandon’s sign reverberated through the phone. “Jamie, I understand how much you want to believe that Ben’s death was something other than it was. You want it to mean something, but the truth is, it was just another meaningless tragedy. Sledge may spin a pretty good yarn, but he left out a few details.”
“Such as?”
“Did he tell you that the autopsy results proved that Ben died with injuries consistent to those sustained by a high velocity impact, such as a motor vehicle?”
Jamie could feel the wind draining out of his sails. “Uh, no, he didn’t.”
“Big shocker there. I guess he also forgot to mention that my men investigated his claim the second he told us and found no evidence whatsoever to back up his story. Oh, and I suppose he neglected to mention that at least seven people at Philly’s Tavern saw him down enough beer and whiskey to intoxicate a third-world country.”