Page 64 of Fire
“No, not yet,” Tobias said. “I’m going to go through this one more time. Thank you, though. I’ll put these back in order when I’m done.”
Roger figured that the moron would work until his eyes fell out and went to get a roast and potatoes cooking. After the food was in and the dishes were done, he couldn’t go back to that little room with a thousand boxes, none of which had the answer that Jake wanted.
And, any other day, he could have also roasted Tobias for making him the arbitrator of what was sane in this fucked-up situation.
He was surprised when he stepped out onto the porch to find Tobias sitting on the steps, rolling a beer bottle between his hands.
Roger leaned against a pole across from him, not feeling the need to speak. Plenty had been said that day, plenty for them all to think on, without adding to it.
But perhaps that silence on his part was what led Tobias to clear his throat. “Roger—” He paused, doubt clear on his face even in the limited light that filtered from the house to the porch.
“Yeah?” When Tobias said nothing for a long minute, Roger sighed. “Just spit it out. We’ve bulldozed through enough shit today, might be better to flatten out the whole thing now.”
Tobias dipped his head in acknowledgment, but his voice was still halting. “I was just—just wondering. Why it was, when Jake said—said that he wanted—to get me. Get me out, I mean. Why did you let... that is, I mean, it would’ve made sense if you’d told him it was a—a bad idea.”
Roger took a minute to absorb that hit, grateful for the sturdy wood wall at his back. When he was sure of his words, he said briskly, “Because—and this is what Leon should’ve known, the stupid bastard—if you were that important to Jake, well, I know his instincts are good. With something that big, I know they gotta be good.”
“You didn’t—” Tobias faltered for a moment, then said low, “You didn’t think I might’ve laid some mojo on him?”
Roger snorted dismissively. “I’d seen you. And I knew by then what fuck-ups were running the whole asylum, and what kinda admission policies they had. Nah, I figured even if you had, we’d sort that out later. But I didn’t think so, else I wouldn’t have called him.”
After a moment, Tobias asked tentatively, “You called him?”
Roger hesitated. “Guess it was the last time I was there. Knew you weren’t gonna last much longer, so Jake had better act quick if he really meant to get you out. And ’course he did.”
Tobias stared out across the yard as the silence stretched. Roger’s discomfort grew—balls, that was not something he’d meant to share, at least not like this—and he was searching for a joke to break the silence when Tobias spoke.
“I hope I never give you a reason to regret it.”
Roger snorted, scuffing the peeling paint of his porch with his shoe. “Not likely, unless you stop making that sweet potato pie for Thanksgiving. Can’t cut a guy off like that.”
Tobias huffed in amusement, but Roger still felt the joke weigh too heavily between them—it didn’t feel like that long ago when Tobias wouldn’t have recognized it as a joke.
“More seriously,” Roger said. “Jake makes stupid-ass decisions sometimes.”
Tobias nodded, face serious as a coffin in the low porch light. “Yeah.”
“But, stupid as they are, those decisions are usually the right ones. I sure as hell don’t want you boys getting killed, but I can’t exactly say that he’swrong. Neither of you has ever given me a reason to doubt you on the big stuff, and I don’t see that changing.”
The quiet felt better now, more thoughtful, less broody. Maybe that was the last damn revelation for the night.
“Thank you, Roger,” Tobias said. “Thank you for everything.”
“My pleasure, kid. Now you just think of a way to blow up that damn camp that isn’t going to carry either of you morons with it.”
* * *
Alice keptthe burner phone with her all the time. Not because she lived in hope, but because she had had at least one nightmare where the call finally came in and cousin Jonah was the one who answered it. That said, she almost fell off her chair when the chorus from “One Headlight” started blaring from her purse.
“I have to take this,” she told her aide even as she fumbled for the phone. “It’s a contact. Reschedule for half an hour.”
Eyes wide, he nodded and booked it out of her office, closing the door behind him.
Alice waited until she heard the lock click, praying that whoever was calling wouldn’t get bored before she was in the clear. This office was regularly checked for bugs, but the soundproofing was only good when the door was closed.
She finally snapped the flip phone open. “Hello?”
“Alice Dixon?”
