71 - Tick Tock

“You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on now?” Matt inquired drolly as he and Jon took a seat in the Tick Tock Diner.  “I know you didn’t drag my ass into the city to eat greasy diner food.”

Delaney wasn’t here yet, but Jon had picked a central table.  He should be able to keep an eye on things no matter where she and Paramedic Prick decided to have their coffee meeting, and if things didn’t go to Jon’s liking…

Well, that’s why he’d invited his little brother to a place that neither of them would go out of their way to patronize.  

“Little” only applied in the sense that Matt was twelve years younger, and his bulked-up sibling had pulled bodyguard duty for Jon by knowing how to use that bulk.  It would be good having him on hand should anything go awry. 

Jon shifted in the fifties-style chair while resituating the Patriots’ cap intended to make him less conspicuous.  It was his only concession to going incognito, though.  Nothing he owned was more nondescript than the navy t-shirt and jeans he would’ve worn, anyway.

“Delaney’s meeting somebody here, and I want to monitor the situation.”

“I’m sorry.”  Matt poked a finger in his ear and wiggled before pulling it free.  “I must be losing my fucking hearing.  We’re here to spy on Bounce?”

Flipping open the cover of the multi-page menu that he’d never order from, Jon ignored the nickname that wasn’t as bothersome as it used to be.  He chose to peruse the million-calorie omelet selection instead of acknowledging it or facing the gaping incredulity across the table.

“Not spy.  Monitor.”

“Is this somebody a guy?”

Blue eyes lifted to blue.  This had nothing to do with jealousy, and his hard look dared Matt to go down that path.   

“Jesus Christ, it is.”  Challenge accepted, dammit.  “You’ve had a girlfriend for two weeks, and you already don’t trust her?  And give enough of a shit to hide behind a menu and watch her betray that trust?  Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

Jon’s middle finger subtly lifted while all the others stayed curled around the menu.  “I trust her fine, and I’m not fucking hiding.  She knows I’ll be here, because it’s the guy I don’t trust.”

“I still got no words for this.  You’re gonna have to fill me in.”

While he was providing Matt with the background about Paramedic Prick – Hugo – a waiter came and took the order for Jon’s coffee and his brother’s burger.  The coffee arrived by the time he was done, and as he threaded his middle two fingers through the handle, Matt’s gaze steadily swept the restaurant. 

He’d shifted into protector mode, which meant Jon could relax a little.  It was just a couple of minutes before one, so things should get underway soon.

His covert surveillance of the room never stopped, but Matt briefly flicked questioning eyes at Jon.  “So, what’s the deal with you and this girl?  I mean, I saw the pictures from the beach, but what’s the real story?”

“Exactly what the pictures imply,” he confirmed, taking the sunglasses from his neckline and parking them on the table.  “We’re together in every sense of the word.  I moved in with her until my apartment’s ready, and Petra’s already been putting the thumbscrews to me about marriage, even though Mou says she’s not interested.”

There was a long pause before Matt slowly admitted, “Mou?  Marriage? Moved in? I only thought I had no words before.  Now I feel like a mother fuckin' mime in an episode of The Twilight Zone."

The nickname was easiest to address, so he explained it before moving onto the rest by essentially repeating what he’d told David.  It may not make a damn bit of sense, but this was how it would be.  Everybody might as well get used to it and accept her as part of the family.

“That the ultimatum you gave the kids?  Get used to it?”

“No.  They were offered the opportunity to provide input if they so chose, but they didn’t.  The boys all love her to death, and Steph… is accepting.  They’ll become better friends in time.”

That was mostly on Delaney, but he had faith that she was going to make the effort.  That she was capable of making the effort.  If only Poppy would get on board, they’d be living the mixed family dream.

“And Dorothea?”

Jon fidgeted restlessly with the silverware, wishing to for her rendezvous to be over as he absently replied, “She’s fine.  Thinks I don’t deserve Delaney.  I probably don’t, but Delaney disagrees and I’m not gonna correct her.”

A close-cropped head shook in wonder.  “I have no idea how you manage to fall into a pile of shit and come out smelling like roses every single damn time.”

“Usually because I work like a son of a bitch.  This time, I just got lucky.”

Matt dipped his chin, the line of his gaze pinpointing a spot beyond Jon.  “There’s Bounce, but she’s alone.”

Twisting in his seat, he found that Delaney looked nearly nothing as she had when leaving home this morning.  Instead of a bare face and baggy Dandelion Dreams tee, her non-ripped jeans were now paired with the black blouse from one of the shows – the one that accented her hourglass figure.

 Its cleavage-exposing neckline was emphasized by a chunky silver necklace, which matched a pair dangly earrings that were also a recent addition.  As if it weren’t enough, she’d also gone with a liberal application of makeup and upswept hair. 

She was a beautiful petite bombshell, and it irritated Jon like an angry case of jock itch. 

Yes, she’d promised when going out the door that she would look better for all the parents in Jersey.  That’s probably what this was, but the fact that it coincided with her coffee “meeting” was aggravating as fuck.

The expressive eyes that spotted him and rolled high before turning to a booth and its lone occupant didn’t do anything to appease.  Especially when she went overboard showering the guy with dimples. 

“Watch every fucking move,” he muttered to the brother that didn’t need prompting.  Matt was already poised and alert.  If Paramedic Prick made one wrong move, his ass was grass.

Delaney had known Jon would be lurking around and had even made her peace with it.  What she hadn’t expected was for him to bring along a bodyguard.  That was a whole lot of overkill from her perspective, but there wasn’t time to dwell upon it.  The man in the blue plaid shirt was rising to meet her.

“Hi,” she greeted cheerily, accepting his outstretched hand.  “I guess I don’t really need to introduce myself, but I’m Delaney.”

“And I’m glad to meet you under somewhat more pleasant circumstances.”  The smile inside a chocolate goatee was pleasant and strong fingers squeezed hers for a split second before releasing.  “Hugo Langfelder.  I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you actually showed up.  Thank you.”

A shiver of trepidation pimpled the skin on her forearms, and Delaney immediately developed a newfound appreciation for her souley and his bodyguard.   The guy was nervous and twitchy, wiping sweaty palms on his jeans.  

This could go very wrong.

“Yeah.  No worries.”  Sliding into the booth while he did the same on the other side, she nervously prattled, “Thanks for calling this morning with the heads up on what you’d be wearing.  I do kinda recognize you, but I’m not sure I wouldn’t have ended up at his table.”

Looking in the direction she gestured with her tilted head, Hugo laughed.  The solo man having lunch on other side of the aisle was also bald with a goatee, but that’s where the resemblance ended.  Tattoos, leather, chains and his aura of intimidation would’ve had per backpedaling right out the door.

“Wouldn’t want that to happen,” he agreed.  “Although by the time this is over you may think he’s the better choice.”

Her pimpled flesh puckered into goosebumps of steel.  That didn’t sound the least bit ominous.  Not at all.

“And why would you say that?”

Brown eyes sought hers, and there was indecision and unrest in their depths.  “My wife has spent five years telling me I shouldn’t do this.  Now, finally meeting you and looking at your face, I’m concerned she may be right.”

Delaney’s brow instantly slammed down with confusion.  Masculine hands were folded together on the tabletop, and it only took a glance to confirm that the left one bore a thick gold band. 

Great googley moogley, he’s married.  And his wife has been trying to talk him out of this for five frippin’ years? 

If that didn’t affirm Jon’s “sicko stalker” character assessment of the man, nothing did, and the only thing that kept her from sliding right back out of that booth and walking away was the Bongiovi brothers’ watchfulness. 

From where she sat, Delaney could plainly see Matt eating a burger and Jon’s hands casually draped around a coffee mug, but neither man was relaxed.  Both were attentively surveying the unfolding scene.   There wasn’t a breath being taken at her table that they weren’t aware of, and their vigilance what kept her from running like a scared rabbit.

“Five years?” She gave an attempt at a light chuckle.  “I thought we only met last month?”

Light bounced off the glossy dome of his skull as Hugo angled his head in concession.  “That’s true, but I’ve known of you much longer.”

Dread clutched the muscles of her stomach, and Delaney inched marginally closer to the edge of the bench seat.  She was officially freaked out and began twirling her forget-me-not thumb ring as an outlet for the anxiety

“How so?”

Hugo’s smile was a bit embarrassed, but he reached out to place a stilling hand over hers.  The physical contact had Matt poised to pounce and Jon’s knuckles white around the mug, but she gave a subtle head shake that kept them at bay while Hugo soothed, “Relax, Delaney.  I think I’ve handled this badly.”

Retreating from his grasp, she deposited both hands in her lap and fixed him with a cool glare.  “You have thirty seconds to figure out a better way to handle it.”

“Yeah, sure.  Sorry.”  Expelling a deep breath, he also dropped hands in lap to say, “My son Kyle graduated with Violet and Poppy.”

Her cemented shoulders lost a bit of their inflexibility at the mention of her daughters.  It was the surest way to ease her nerves, but she didn’t recall any Langfelders in the girls’ graduating class.  Delaney had known nearly all of the kids, if not by face, at least by mention.  Violet and Poppy would always flop across the foot of her bed when coming home from a party or sporting event, and they shared all the school gossip. 

“The only Kyle I remember from their class is Kyle Garvey.  He was in their homeroom and… Poppy’s chemistry class, I think.”

Hugo nodded.  “That’s my son.  Legally, my stepson, but his mother and I have been married since Kyle was a toddler.  His biological father wouldn’t let me adopt, so we have different last names.”

 

The last time she’d heard Kyle’s name was the day Violet died, and now – here, with his father – Delaney felt herself go numb. 

“I can tell you just made the connection,” he observed gently.  “It was my house where…  God, I’m so very sorry Delaney.”

The party was in the basement of his house that Memorial Day weekend.  Kyle Garvey hosted the party where Violet overdosed. 

Delaney vaguely recalled receiving a sympathy card from the family, and even more vaguely remembered Petra keeping them away from her at the funeral.  He wasn’t completely bald then, but Hugo’s goatee was the same as the man who’d wanted a word with her when she hadn’t been willing to speak with anyone. 

She still had no interest in talking to someone who couldn’t keep heroin out of his home, and she made that clear with a frosty, “Your sympathy card said that just fine.  What do you want?”

Across the restaurant, the two observers to the scene couldn’t hear what was being said, but the body language was loud and clear. 

“She’s pissed,” Matt murmured without averting his eyes from the pair who were now both sitting with stilted posture. 

Jon had seen the lighting split her irises from his seat thirty feet away, so he had no doubt that his brother’s call was right on the money.  As long as she wasn’t in danger, though, he wouldn’t interfere.  Mou could take care of herself in any argument.    

“Pissed is good.  It means he doesn’t have her blinded with charm, and she won’t take any shit from him.”

He’d like to see her wrap this up and be done with it, but Jon it looked like he might have to sit on his hands at least a few minutes longer.  The paramedic was leaned forward doing some serious fast talking.

“I have something that I wanted to tell you – give you – years ago,” Hugo said in earnest, but Delaney’s stance didn’t soften.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I tried at the funeral, but your sister was adamant about keeping people away.  Afterward, my wife convinced me to let it go.  She said it would just make things harder for you, so I tried to forget about it – until I picked you off the sidewalk in Greenwich Village.  It was too coincidental, and now I can’t let it go anymore.”

“Why?” she demanded.  “Why can’t you?  Is this supposed to ease your conscience?  Make you feel better about what you allowed to go on in your house?  Because there’s not an egg sucking thing you can say or do that will make a difference to me.  I lost both my daughters because of that day, in case you didn’t know.  Poppy walked away after the funeral and never came back, so I have nothing that your freeping clear conscience will fix.”

Blood rushed through her ears at the arrogance of this stupid man.  She wasn’t here to make him sleep better at night, and she sure as shooting didn’t care whether he did.  If there was anyone she’d ever subconsciously blamed for this – besides herself and Violet – it was him.

This meeting was over.

Scooting out of the booth, Delaney stood only to have steely fingers close around her wrist.  Matt was on his feet in a flash, but she tersely shook him away.  Whatever kind of anus this man was, he wasn’t the kind to hurt her.

Hugo proved that by quietly appeasing, “I understand why you’d be angry with me.  You’re wrong, but I still understand.”

“As if I care.”

Frustration was evident in the harsh breath he expelled, but he didn’t push the subject.  Hugo merely withdrew something from a pants pocket and held out his open palm.  In it was a computer flash drive that looked very much like the ones her girls had used for school assignments and the like. 

“We had a nanny cam in our basement, and it was on during the party.  I thought maybe you’d want to see what happened, but if you don’t, fine.  Like you said, my conscience is clear.  Take it.  Please.”

Violet.  You sent me my answers.

Yet she couldn’t make herself move to take the black piece of plastic.

“Please.”  Hugo pushed his open palm closer.  “Whatever you may think of me, Delaney, please know that I’ve prayed for you and your family day in and day out since it happened.  And that I’m truly, truly sorry for your loss.”

When she still didn’t take the flash drive, Hugo placed it on the blue Formica tabletop and slid from the booth to tower over her.  "There are two versions on there.  I’d suggest watching the one that says ‘edited’ if you don't want to see Violet’s last moments."

Then he walked away, leaving Delaney to stare at the device with hope-filled terror.

Now that I have the answers, do I really want to know?