All That Matters (28 page)

“It's disgusting,” Train said, and everyone chuckled. It was basically what they were all thinking, anyway. Ace loved Jillian too much to tell her that her food sucked, so he suffered through it unless he could get out of it.

“It is disgusting,” Ace confirmed. “I'll call her now, and then I'm good to go.”

“Perfect,” Buster declared, and it was decided. Ace moved off to call Jillian. “Thanks for offering to do this.”

“No problem.” Train took out his cigarettes, lit one and offered the pack to Buster, who took one. “I could use the ride.”

“Everything alright?”

“I just need to clear my head. Is that a problem?”

“Of course it isn't, don't get defensive. Aren't you going to call Meg?”

“Why?” Train asked, and then it hit him. “Because I'm not going home tonight, right. Fuck. I'm shit at this whole relationship thing.”

Buster chuckled at that. “Everyone feels like that one time or another. I know that I did. And I did my best to fuck it up with her at first, you remember that?”

Train remembered Buster pulling back from Caroline, scared that she'd get caught up in Nightshade shit and get hurt. “I remember. You were a miserable prick at the time.”

“Probably,” Buster admitted. “And that just proves my point. I pushed her away when I should have pulled her closer. I don't want to see you make the same kind of mistake.”

“She pisses me off,” Train said after a pause. “And it pisses me off that she pisses me off.”

Buster chuckled again and Train gave serious consideration to punching him right in the smirking face. It must have shown, because Buster held up his hands. “I'm not laughing at you, I'm not. You think that Caroline doesn't piss me off. She does, trust me. You know that Amelia pisses Danny off. Bones is always mad at his old lady.”

“Jillian doesn't piss Ace off,” Train pointed out.

“Jillian and Ace are freaks. Everyone knows that.” Buster smiled. “Seriously, being pissed is part of it. It's not a bad thing, leads to make-up sex. So, even if you're pissed, you still should call her and tell her that you're not coming home.”

“Yeah. I will.” Train thought about what Buster said as he took out his phone. He dialed Meg's number, listened to it ring through to voice mail. He hated voice mail, so he hung up and called right back, again and again. A sudden urge to throw his phone rushed through him; he felt the lash of his temper and exhaled hard.

It was three o'clock; she'd be on her way to get Leo from school. Shit. She'd be walking because he'd taken the fucking truck. Fuck, it was too cold for them to be walking. He was the reason that they were walking. He'd taken the truck without thinking that she'd need it, just like he'd been ready to ride off without even calling to tell her he wouldn't be home.

“You ready to roll out, Train? You want to take your truck or mine?”

“We can take yours. I need to drop mine off to Meg at the school.” Train sent a quick text telling her that was the plan. He was still pissed that she didn't answer but figured that she was pissed because he'd taken the truck. He should have gone with his gut instinct and just bought her a car.

Ace followed him to the school. They missed the bell by a few minutes. Leo and Meg weren't there. Train followed the route they'd most likely have taken home and still didn't see them. He didn't start worrying until he got to the house and they weren't there. He didn't like to worry, it reminded him of his childhood, so he went with an emotion that was more familiar: anger. She hadn't so much as left a note to tell him where she was, on top of not answering her fucking phone. Train called her again, even though he knew somewhere inside that it was probably a bad idea.

When her voice mail picked up again, he felt something in his head snap. “What the fuck is wrong with you that you don't answer your phone? You're not at the house or the school. What the fuck, Meg? This is what pisses me off. I don't have time for this shit.” Train clenched his fist hard enough to feel the phone crack as he ended the call.

“You're a real sweet talker, aren't you?” Ace asked from behind him.

“Mind your own business,” Train replied. He flipped up his middle finger. “Let's go.”

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Ace looked amused. Train considered violence on a Brother for the second time in as many hours. “The keys, Train. Aren't you going to leave her the truck keys?”

“Of course, I am.” Train had nearly forgotten about the keys. He didn't forget things. He paid attention to detail, it was his thing. He hung the keys on the hook near the back door, checked to make sure that it was locked, out of habit.

“Not going to leave her a sweet little love note?”

“Suck my dick,” Train suggested. “You ready to go or what?”

“You got some snacks here?”

“Snacks?”

“Yeah, snacks. You know, tasty food that can be consumed while driving. So we don't have to stop. Maybe some sodas or something.”

“We've got those juice pouch things. Chips and stuff for Leo's lunch, and there's probably energy drinks.”

“Sweet. All we've got in our house is healthy shit, the closest I get to chips are pretzels.” Ace began to rummage through the cabinets. He piled items on the counter. “You got a bag?”

“There's some plastic grocery store bags in the pantry. You can't miss them. Do me a favor, lock this door behind me. I need a smoke. And hurry up, we've got a way to go.”

<#<#<#<#

Riverdale wasn't a very affluent town. Most of the houses they'd seen were in pretty shit shape, some obviously abandoned. Train was reminded of home, though the blight had hit home much harder. As they followed the GPS directions to the address Bones had uncovered, the yards became larger and in better shape. “That's it,” Ace pulled over to the curb and pointed to a red brick house about half a block down the street. “No car or truck in the driveway.”

“No way to sneak up without being seen. Doesn't look like anyone is home in the house next door.”

“Across the street looks empty, and there's a for sale sign hanging in the house next door.” Ace turned off the engine and reached over to the glove compartment. He took out his gun. “What's our play?”

Without knowing exactly what was going on inside of the house, any play would be risky. “Let's go knock on the door. See what happens.” Train took out his own gun, checked the clip and made sure that the safety was off. “If he's there, we do what needs to be done. Maybe we'll get lucky. Cane and the girl could be in there too. We could wrap this up with a bow.”

“You ever see any of her movies?” Ace whistled his appreciation. “She is really bendy. Gagliardi is a son of a bitch, but he knows to make some smoking hot porn. Seriously, I found this one the other night, showed it to Jillian. It got her so hot she said that she'd consider a threesome.”

“Seriously?” Train hadn't figured Jillian to be that freaky. Most likely she was just saying what she knew would get Ace hot with no intention of following through. It was obvious Ace hadn't figured that out.

“Hand to God,” Ace answered. “I'm telling you, the video was that hot. I'll email you the link when I get home. I saved it into my favorites, it was that good.”

“She want another guy or another chick?”

“Another chick. I think she'll say yes.”

“You hope she says yes. It's probably just the fantasy that turns her on.” Train watched Ace frown at the thought.

“Even if that's the case, the fantasy turns her on enough that it works for me. Come on, let's get this over with so that we can get home and I can find out.”

Train nodded. They might as well get it over with. The neighborhood was quiet, not even a barking dog. An unsettled feeling took root in Train's stomach, edging out the anger that he'd been stewing in since they left the house. Meg hadn't even left a fucking note. How was he supposed to know that she was okay? His phone hadn't rung, either, so she hadn't checked hers. What the fuck was she doing?

He shoved down all those thoughts as they approached the house. The blinds were all closed, the curtains, too. From the outside, it didn't appear that anyone was home. The mail stacked up in the mailbox, mostly junk mail and sales circulars, indicated that no one had been there in a while. Ace raised his hand and knocked.

No one answered. It was no surprise. There was an empty feeling about the house, like no one had been there in a while.“Let's go around the back, I don't think anyone is in there but I want to get inside,” Train suggested. If Cane and Info had used this address maybe they'd left a clue behind without realizing it. The back yard was neat and bare, no personalization anywhere.

Ace took a black leather case out of his back pocket, a lockpicking kit, and got to work. In under a minute, the door was open. The scent of stale air and decomp rushed out at them. “Jesus Fuck!” Ace coughed. “Something is dead in there.”

“Or someone.” Train took out his gun just in case. He followed Ace through the door into a small kitchen. There were dirty dishes piled in the sink, a trash can overflowed, which could account for the smell, but he doubted it. “I'll take upstairs.”

“I've got down here.”

Train moved through the house to the staircase quickly. There was a hallway on the second floor and three doors. The first was a bedroom, as generic as the new rooms at the clubhouse but nowhere near as clean. The second was another bedroom. Both were empty, but the smell of whatever was rotting was stronger than ever. The third door led to a bathroom and the source of a smell.

There were two bodies, both wrapped in painter's plastic. “Fuck me.” The smell when they opened the plastic was going to be the worst thing in the world. “Ace!” He moved forward, examined the bags. One body was much smaller than the other. His money was on it being Cane and the girl, with Info fully off of the reservation.

Ace's footsteps thundered up the stairs. “Jesus fuck.” Ace recoiled at the sight of the bodies stacked like cord wood. “We're going to have to open those, aren't we?”

“Yes. We are.” Train wished that they'd have brought his truck; he had a kit to deal with things like this. “You're gonna want to cover your nose. Look in the medicine cabinet for some vapor rub. It'll help with the smell. Do not throw up.”

“That was one time, once!” Ace protested but began to look for the vapor rub. He found it and a box of disposable gloves underneath the sink. “You doing the honors or am I?”

“I'll do it,” Train replied.

“You think Info did them both?”

“That's the most likely assumption.” Train didn't like to rush to conclusions, but in this case he might just make an exception. “It's going to be hard to tell how long they've been like this with the window open. It's probably just above freezing in here.”

The vapor rub did help lessen the scent, but Train still felt his stomach clench and roll. Ace turned a shade of green but managed to not puke all over the place. After looking at the contents of the first bag, it had been Norma Rae, Train told Ace to go and start searching the house. There was no way to tell cause of death, and he doubted that they'd ever know, unless they caught Info and he told them. It might not even matter. Norma Rae was dead. Gagliardi was not going to be a happy camper, especially with Info still running the streets a free, breathing, man.

Train took off the disposable gloves and tossed them in the trash can. He'd take the bag with him when they left. He dialed Buster. The President answered on the first ring; he'd been waiting for the call. As vaguely as he could, Train informed him of the situation. He kept his own thought that it might be better for Gagliardi to never find out that the girl was dead to himself, let Buster run through his own options.

“Can you get rid of the house?” Buster's question took Train by surprise. It was an extreme option, and frankly he was a little offended Buster had to ask.

“Of course I can,” he huffed. “Consider it done once we finish taking a look around. I'll be in touch when we're on our way back.” Train ended the call and went to find Ace.