Page 22 of Keep

I chewed on that information. “So this guy wanted to know if Hale had any business hanging around Scratch?”

Marian shrugged. “I guess.”

A bell sounded at my back, signaling the arrival of a customer. I half expected to see the possible cop we’d just been discussing but instead a laughing young couple walked in, probably university students who were looking to get yin and yang tattoos or some shit.

I left Marian to deal with the couple and conducted a casual inventory of the shelves devoted to products adorned with the Scratch logo. I was the merchandise manager and was proud of the growth of the product line. Sales on site were pretty good but online sales were far superior and growing every quarter.

Cord’s voice reached me and I headed down the hall, noticing that his door was open. Zack, one of the tattoo artists, was just leaving.

“You can count on me, boss,” he called to Cord and greeted me with a nod before ducking into the nearby break room.

Cord was sitting behind his large desk and sighing as he signed off on invoices. He looked up when I closed the door behind me but returned to his signatures as I took a seat in one of the chairs. Cord was a talented artist himself, though the demands of running a business had cut into his artistic time. Still, the walls of his office were covered with his sketches and paintings. Sitting in the middle of it was like being inside Cord’s mind.

“Something wrong?” he asked as he scrawled his initials at the bottom of a yellow invoice to approve payment.

“I just had a chat with Marian,” I said.

Cord looked up. “And?”

“She says there was someone here asking questions. A cop, or at least some guy who said he was a cop. He wanted to know if Hale Tremaine was ever seen around here.”

A wrinkle deepened between Cord’s brows and he sat back in his chair. “Why the fuck would Hale Tremaine be hanging around here?”

I shrugged. “He wouldn’t. He wasn’t in the ink business.”

“I thought he owned a bar or something.”

“Did he? I never got a straight story on what he did.”

Cord was watching me intently now. He knew me. He knew my history involved running around with the worst gangs down in Emblem. “What are you trying to say, Curtis?”

I shifted in my seat. “I liked Hale. I really did. From what I knew of him he seemed like an okay guy and he was devoted to Dalton. But I also got a certain vibe off him.”

“What vibe?”

“I’m not saying he was dangerous. But I’d guess he operated under his own set of rules and while that’s sure as fuck none of my business, it might have been catching up with him. Did you notice the guy hanging around the funeral with the ferret face and military haircut?”

Cord shook his head.

“He was keeping an eye on everybody who was coming and going. Maybe he’s Marian’s cop or maybe he’s something else altogether. Just thought it was weird that’s all.”

Cord was thinking. “I should give my daughter a call and find out if the cops or anyone else has approached her or Dalton.”

“Wouldn’t she have said something already if that was the case?”

“Maybe.” He smiled. “But remember Cami is a reporter. She notices everything and she can keep secrets when she wants to. It could be that she’s looking into things on her own.”

“You worried?”

“Nah. We’ve got enough real situations to worry about without chasing down fictional ones. Let the cops sniff around if they want to. They won’t find any link here to whatever Hale had gotten wrapped up in.”

I didn’t think the cops were the ones we needed to be concerned about if Hale had been neck deep into something bad. The criminal underworld didn’t concern itself with fairness. Hale was dead but if he owed money or whatever that wouldn’t stop someone without a moral compass from going after his family.

Still, Cord was right about one thing. There was no sense jumping the gun when there might not even be a problem.

“How’s Dalton doing?” I asked. “I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to him much.”

“He’s been busy taking care of his mother, dealing with the funeral. Cami says he’s hurting but Dalton’s not the type to let it show for long. His mother’s leaving today and Cami thinks he’s planning to be back at work at Dream Fields tomorrow.”

“So they’re not going on their honeymoon at all?”

“Not now. Cami said they agreed it should wait until this cloud of grief fades a bit.”

“I should go see him,” I said. “Breck spends a few afternoons a week down at Dream Fields so it’s no hardship to stop by.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Cord said. He looked down at his pile of paperwork and made a face of distaste. “This shit can wait until tomorrow. Let’s get out of here and go home to our ladies.”

That sounded good to me. I rose from the chair.

“I’m ready when you are.”

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