Page 43 of Bidding War

The man is a fucking mind reader. He knows I want out from under Dad’s thumb. He knows I don’t want to be in on the ride-alongs. He knows I have plans to end Dad’s illegal dealings, and he doesn’t want to be fired anytime soon.

Right now, I’m angry with him. I should be by June’s side. Holding her, getting her take out, whatever she needs. That is where I belong. Instead, he has me doing his grunt work.

But …

Moss, for all his condescension, isn’t wrong. I do need to learn things from him. I would have botched trying to hide Green Sweater’s body. Without a doubt, I know that. And the only time I saw June stop shaking was when she was spraying whatever that chemical was. He gave her something to concentrate on. Me, too. Condescending or not, it was useful. Moss is useful.

And once Dad is out of the picture, I have to keep him happy or end up in a carpet myself. He’s showing me what happens to people he deals with. He has since day one. The ride-alongs are useful to Dad because we get things done for him, but they’re useful for Moss, too. He’s been showing me his skillset, so I know who I’m dealing with because he knows Dad’s plan is for me to take over, and he wants a secure position with me.

“I won’t cut you off, Moss. I might not like everything Dad does, but he’s not stupid. He hires the right people for the job. When I have his seat, you’ll retain yours.” Until I figure something else out.

He grins and claps my shoulder. “I like you, Anderson. You are better than the last man I worked with.”

And what the hell happened to him? Staring out across the blackwater, I have a feeling I know. “How am I better?”

He points to his temple. “Absent here. A moron, too dumb for my own good. Nearly got us arrested twice.” Then he shakes his head. “He liked disco music and always insisted on playing it on the job. Disco!”

“What, like The Bee Gees?” I ask with a laugh.

“And Donna Summer and KC and the Sunshine Band and Sister Sledge, but the worst was ABBA. So much ABBA.”

I snort a laugh, thinking about the big bad killer bopping to disco, and I can’t make the picture work. “That is hard to imagine.”

“You let me listen to my music. I like that very much. You are considerate when we travel. Much improvement.” He kills the motor. “Ready?”

I gulp against a dry throat. “Thought you didn’t need me for this.”

“It’s your first body. I will not take that honor from you. Come. We weigh it down.”

I hadn’t noticed the cement block at the far end of the boat because it was covered by a tarp. Apparently, we are on his body-dumping boat. It seems this man has a mode of transport for every occasion.

We chain the cement blocks to the body. He swears it doesn’t take all that much to weigh a body down, but I worry it’s not enough. “You do not trust easy, but I do this for a long time now. No one will find him. Not out here. Not ever.”

With that, we fling the blocks overboard, and when enough of them are over, their weight drags the carpet overboard, too. Moss spits in the water after him. “Good riddance.”

I spit, too, because he’s right.

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24

ANDERSON

Once the body is gone, I feel things. The cold, for one. It’s beyond brisk out on the open water. Some part of me had gone numb after Green Sweater was dead. Maybe my mind tried to protect me from the severity of my actions … I don’t know. But I start to feel better once I see the docks again.

The docks mean I can put this behind me and check on June.

We disembark and get into his van fast. When he cranks on the heat, it’s not enough. The freezing cold has finally cut into me, and I cannot get warm. Something tells me I won’t be warm again until I see her face.

“You did well, Anderson,” Moss says. “Your father will be proud.”

“Proud that I murdered someone?” Saying it out loud makes me want to vomit.

“Ees not murder. You were right to call me—police … they do not take these things well. But it was no murder. You did what you had to do to protect the one you love. The haddock brought it on himself.”

I’m not sure if the approval of an actual murderer is what I should be looking for, but at the moment, it soothes the guilt I have a right to have. I know I did the right thing. It wasn’t even a conscious call to make, truthfully. Once I saw him put his hands on her in a way she didn’t want, I went on autopilot, and I wasn’t about to stop until he was down for the count. Truth be told, before I knew he was dead, I’d begun to plan his death for what he’d done to June.

I sigh at the thought of her. Fuck, she looked so fragile in his grasp. My strong June, weakened by a beast. My equal, gasping for air … no. Not my equal. June is better than me in every aspect. I would give her everything just to have her back in my arms again. That’s what makes the night so foggy.

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