Tied Up in Knots (Marshals 3)

“Won’t you need a code, Miro?” He was worried about this.

“I have an override, kid,” I told him.

Once he was in and his stuff was on the bed, we left again because I had to take him back to the office to fill out bank account information that could only be done after the witness was shown his domicile. Normally, because I was a little lazy, I would take the daily fund allotment out in cash and give it to the witness and tell them to go wild. The thing was that I had not placed anyone alone in years. Josue needed friends, and at the moment I was it, so based on how I would have wanted things to work, I was getting him as set up as possible. His questions were killing me, though.

“But I don’t get it. How do I get money to buy stuff? I mean—I should make something and bring it with me for dinner, right?”

“No. Don’t bring anything but yourself.” We were sitting at my desk forty minutes later with White, who was typing because I couldn’t get my eyes to focus anymore. I needed to sleep. So did Josue. He didn’t have that much more rest than I did, but I guessed newness and adrenaline were powering him.

“Hey.”

Turning, I looked at Sharpe.

“Come here.”

I rolled away from White’s desk and over to his. “What?”

“My buddies in Jersey got back to me on that guy Ian needed checked out.”

“Oh, okay. And?”

“He committed suicide like a month or so after he got back home from that tour four years ago.”

It was sad and scary at the same time because Kerry Lochlyn had been dead a long time, and if he wasn’t the one getting revenge on the other men in his unit, who was? “What about his family?” I asked.

“His parents were killed a year ago in a car accident,” Sharpe said, reading the information on his computer screen. “There’s only his sister and brother now.”

“Where’s the brother live?”

“That they don’t know. He’s estranged from the family and has been since Kerry’s death.”

“How estranged?”

“Like changed his name, never heard from him again estranged.”

“Why?”

“According to Kramer, who talked to the sister who lives in Albuquerque now—he never forgave his folks for his brother’s suicide. He thought they drove him to it.”

“Jesus.”

He shrugged. “Family’ll make you put a gun to your head faster than anything else.”

I would have to take his word for it, as I had none.

“Jones,” White barked over at me, and I realized that while Sharpe and I were talking, he had Josue’s total 110 percent focus on him and only him, and the questions were still coming fast and furious.

Ten minutes later, with all the information he needed for the following day—who to see at the bank, for instance, to claim bankcards—I had Josue back at my desk.

“But how do I get to see this”—he pulled the business card I’d given him and read the name off it—“Lillian Doss tomorrow if I don’t have cab fare to get there?”

“That’s why I said that there will be a marshal there in the morning to take you. There’s a whole checklist in that packet you got, along with the laminated cards in case of emergency and the app that only works with your fingerprint on the new phone we just gave you.”

“Yeah,” he said in a very small voice, and then he lifted his big dark eyes to me. “Are you gonna pick me up?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you just sleep over and we’ll wake up early, have breakfast, and then you don’t have to drive.”

“Listen, it’s—”

“Or I can go home with you, and the same plan applies.”

I shook my head.

“Why?” His comical silent scream, with his head back, eyes closed, hands curled into rigor was funny, and he got a smile out of me, but we were not going to be girlfriends.

“Because with me hanging around, you’re never gonna fit in.”

He made a noise like I was just so irritating.

“You have to give this a try, starting now.”

“No, you know, I really think I should stay with you because you’re the one I trust, and trust goes a long way, and… yeah,” he said, deciding something, getting worked up, nodding a lot. “Yeah… yeah, I think so. I’m sticking with you.”

I took a deep breath. “Hold on, kid.”

“Oh man,” he whimpered. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“That’s not what the cards said,” I reminded him as I took hold of his shoulder, not hard, but firm, keeping him with me as I found the contact I needed on my phone. “You just need a little support.”

“I think I should live with you.”

He was so not living with me.

“Hey,” I huffed, talking to one person while I concentrated on the guy in front of me having a nervous breakdown. “I need a favor.”