Daniel’s suddenly pouting, and it prompts Rose to speak up. “What’s up? Did you find your hamster?”
“No. And I’m also not allowed to take jet ski lessons,” he says, totally solemn.
I snort. Says who? The couple who bought him on the black market? “I’ve got a surprise for you,” I say, lifting my shades.
“What? Tell me.” The kid looks like he could pee his boxers at any moment, and Rose casts me a dubious look that I ignore as my phone rings in my pocket.
“I’ll show you when you visit.” I stand, dropping a kiss on Rose’s head as I fish my mobile out. “I’ve got to take this. See you soon, kid.”
“When?”
“I’ll let Mum sort it.” I walk away, taking Esther’s call. “She’s here,” I say immediately, knowing she’ll be worried.
“For Christ’s sake,” Mum breathes, rattled. “Has that woman got a death wish? Goldie’s flipping.”
“Where is she?”
“Zooming toward you, I expect.” The second Mum’s finished speaking, I hear the undeniable angry screeching of tires skidding down the track.
“She’s here. Thanks, Mum.” I hang up and look across to Rose, who is in the middle of saying her goodbyes to Daniel. She clicks off the call. “You’re in big trouble,” I say on a shake of my head.
“Save me,” she sings, throwing the back of her hand to her forehead like some twisted damsel in distress. I grin. But I’ll make damn sure it’s gone when I face Goldie, who I can hear marching up behind me. I turn.
And nearly have my eye poked out by her pointing finger. “Do not ever ask me to watch them again,” she seethes, nostrils flaring.
I close my eyes and gather some patience. I know how fucking cunning my wife is. Goldie’s mood is simply a reminder of the shit I have to deal with as a consequence. Looking over my shoulder, I find the object of my deepest affection and my deepest fucking frustrations, nibbling at her lip nervously. “See what you’ve done?”
“It was my fault,” Beau calls, hurrying over and joining Rose on the rock, putting an arm around her friend protectively. Partners in crime, these two. Thick as thieves. I’m only marginally grateful in this moment, when I’ve got what I’m sure is a premenstrual black widow hissing at me.
James joins me. He looks about as happy as Goldie. “Never again,” he practically growls at Beau. “Clear?”
Are they holding back laughter? God help them.
“A word,” James says, tearing his warning eyes from Beau and walking away. I give Rose a look that suggests if she moves, I’ll set Goldie on her. Then I follow James, giving Goldie a sorry look as I pass. She isn’t happy. I can’t blame her.
“It was bad enough when there was only one of them,” she growls, going back to her car. Why am I not surprised that Beau gave her trouble as well? I’d say sorry, but Goldie would possibly shoot me for that too.
“What’s up?” I ask, falling into stride next to James as he walks toward the shore.
He rakes a hand through his hair, showing a certain level of stress. I’ve not known James long, but in that time, I’ve figured out a few things beyond doubt. For starters, I like him. It’s a rarity. He loves fiercely like me. His woman’s peace is his end game. He hunts his prey and rips them limb from limb, literally. But I’ve also learned he doesn’t show stress. He walked away from his obliterated apartment unfazed, so whatever’s on his mind is heavy. “Beau’s not letting it go.” He turns toward me, flicking his eyes to the girls, who are still perched on the rock, looking too beautiful amid the construction site and graveyard.
“Dexter,” I say, showing my understanding. “What do you need me to do?”
“Give me his body.”
I throw a stunned look his way. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Maybe I thought he’d ask me to talk to Rose. Ask her to talk to Beau. I don’t know, but having his decomposing remains dug up? “You serious?”
“She needs closure. For that, I need his body.”
“Fuck me,” I breathe, joining him with a rake of my hand through my hair. What a gift. “I’ll see what I can do. How’s her uncle?” The guy has practically barricaded himself in his room since he arrived at the mansion. The doctor’s come and gone. The meds have rolled.
“Not good. I’m not his biggest fan, but he means a lot to Beau, so if I can fix that shit I will.”
I blow out my cheeks, reaching for another cigarette. “I need a drink.” I offer one to James on the off chance he might accept this time; he looks like he needs one, but he shakes his head and I get to pulling one out with my lips. “The men probably do too after your little rendition of Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” I nod to the body. “The fucking Dodo,” I mutter, walking away as I light up. I’ve only been back in Miami a few weeks, and hell knows I could do with a break from it already.