Page 231 of Irreversible

“You’ve got the SFPD in quite the tizzy.”

Tanner looks down at me from the side of the bed.

Between my skills in wilderness first aid and a stash of antibiotics, I was able to convince Everly to let me recover in her apartment. The umbrella didn’t hit anything vital, and I’ll do just about anything to stay out of the hospital.

Warming my hands around the mug of herbal tea she left on the bedside table, I inhale the vaguely spicy scent. It’s in my best interest to try to be a better patient for her than I was for Nurse Rebecca. “If I could let them off the hook without producing a body, I would.”

The San Francisco Police Department was all over the venue after I had it evacuated, finding several fog machines full of a very concentrated hydrogen sulfide solution. The “grand finale” Vincent mentioned to Everly, no doubt. He’d planned to lock everyone inside and let them suffocate, while he cruised out into the Pacific and disappeared.

His motives were a mystery, until Garrison checked out that hotel I’d almost walked into the night before. Though the man I was following had vacated, he’d left supplies behind: industrialbondage attached to a chair, tranquilizers, and a video feed set to stream the fashion show. Live.

It was a trap.

A trap set forme.

The bastard was going to make me watch it go down—witness all those people dying, with Everly as the main attraction, just to prove he’d won. A big fucking checkmate.

If she hadn’t texted before I walked into that motel room—if I hadn’t been so paranoid I’d high-tailed it out of there the next morning—every one of those lives would have been on my hands.

I was still too late to help Jasper Cross, who will always be on my conscience. Maybe I didn’t like the guy, but he took a risk to get me on the scene.

No one should have died on my watch.

Of course, I immediately called my former partner, who managed to locate Allison James, uninjured, in a hotel room outside of Los Angeles. One of Vincent’s hired men had duct-taped her to a chair and abandoned her when he failed to hear from his boss.

The look Tanner gives me now would be unreadable to most people. “I guess they’ll have to be satisfied with a blood-soaked boat and DNA results. Convenient you had the ocean there to dispose of him easily.”

“Yeah. Convenient.” I take a sip of the tea. This way it ends, and I can disappear off the radar without explanations or unwanted attention.

He raises an eyebrow that says he suspects there’s more to it. “Not much has changed from our days in the department together, I see.” He points at his mug. “You don’t think she did something to my coffee, do you?”

I look at him sideways.

“This is the first time I’ve seen Everly since she found out I haven’t been exactly truthful for the past year. She looks sweet, but that’s the type you need to watch out for.”

“Oh, Tanner.” Everly enters the room with a plate of blueberry muffins. “I never thought you were being truthful. Besides, if I were going to do anything, it would be to that muffin you just took off the top.”

When he sets it on the plate like it might bite him, she hands it directly to me. I shove half of it into my mouth while she presses her lips to my forehead.

He shakes his head disdainfully. “This case consumed the last three years of your life. Have you thought about what you’re going to do next?”

Everly glances my way. “That’s true. Now that The Timekeeper is gone, you?—”

“Leonard Vincent,”I say, teeth clenching. Silence falls like a hammer as they both stare at me. “That was his name. Leonard Vincent. Not The Timekeeper, not some title that feeds his ego. He was just a murderer—a coward hiding behind a clock. And now, he’s nothing.” My gaze cuts to Everly, and I watch as realization dawns.

She swallows, nodding slowly. “Yeah. You’re right.”

I reach for her hand. “And I have no idea what I’m doing. Private sector bullshit, I guess.”Which sounds terrible.

“Have you considered fugitive recovery?” Tanner clears his throat. “Batman would approve.”

Everly suddenly appears very interested. “Is that the same as bounty hunting?”

Tanner and I cringe.

“What? They still have those; I’ve seen them on TV.”

“Those guys are bail bondsman runners who want to sound cool.” Ignoring the flowery-tasting tea, I snag my friend’s untouched coffee mug from the side table and take a drink.“Tanner is talking about a type of independent contracting the government doesn’t admit to.”

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