Backward Page 5

  “Harry,” he began once his next call connected.

  “Tristan? What’s going on?”

  “I’m at work and Eddie’s here. He came in for lunch. Well, he says he came in for lunch, but I think he came in to intimidate me, and it’s working. He’s here with some of his friends, and—”

  “Just a minute,” Harry said, and then Tristan heard him speaking to someone else.

  “Bull and I will be there in a few minutes,” Harry said. “We’re leaving the club now. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone. I….”

  “You aren’t. When we get there, just make sure we get seated next to them. It seems Bull and I are ready for lunch.” Harry disconnected. Tristan put his phone back in his pocket, washed his hands, and left the bathroom. He went back to the food station. His order wasn’t ready, so he made a pass through the dining room, checking on his patrons. He reluctantly stopped by Eddie’s table, but the three of them were deep in conversation, so he left them alone and went back to check on his food.

  It was ready, so he loaded it on a tray and carried it out to the table, where he placed Eddie’s in front of him, followed by Jimmy’s, and Lewis’s. He hated all three of them and felt their eyes on him the entire time. As soon as he was done, he turned and hurried away. The bell on the front door tinkled lightly. Tristan set the tray and stand in their place and walked quickly to the front. He was glad to see Bull and Harry standing just inside the door. Tristan went into his standard greeting in case anyone was listening and led the two of them back, seating them at the table next to Eddie’s, even though there were plenty of tables available now that the lunch rush was over. He took their drink orders and scurried away.

  Curiosity about what the two of them had in mind kept him wondering, and he returned quickly. He brought them the wine they’d ordered and placed the glasses on the table.

  “Go along,” Harry whispered to him. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said more loudly and extremely sweetly before lightly tugging Tristan down into a kiss. For a few seconds he forgot where he was. Harry tasted like heaven. When Harry broke the kiss, Tristan blinked a few times and then reminded himself that it was just pretend.

  “What’s this?” Eddie hissed from the next table.

  “None of your business,” he retorted and turned back to Tristan.

  The intensity of Harry’s gaze went straight through his eyes, down his spine, and to his now wobbly knees.

  Eddie leaned back in his chair. “If it involves him—” As soon as Eddie pointed at him, Tristan’s blood ran as cold as the look in Eddie’s eyes. He saw no emotion there. Tristan was just property, nothing more. “Then it’s my business. See, you may not know it, but he’s mine.”

  Tristan turned back to Harry.

  “I don’t think so,” Harry said. “See, he’s his own man. He can spend time with whoever he wants, and I get the distinct feeling that isn’t you.” Harry sounded cool as he leaned a little closer. “Seen Carlos since last night?”

  Way to poke the bear. Tristan shifted his gaze to Eddie. He was beginning to think he was watching a tennis match. No, a soccer match, and he was the fucking ball. Harry took Tristan’s hand gently in his. Tristan let it stay there until he saw Mrs. Martinelli coming his way. Then he stepped away and asked if Harry and Bull had made a decision about their food. They both ordered a burger, and Harry handed him the menus without taking his eyes off Eddie.

  “You have something to do with Carlos?” Eddie asked, sitting straight up, gaze boring into Harry.

  “No,” Bull said, standing up from his seat. “I did, and I’m afraid you aren’t going to be seeing him for a good long time.” Bull walked over toward Eddie’s table, and Tristan stepped further away. If the shit hit the fan, he didn’t want to be around. “Given that the police have him in custody, I’d say you ought to be shaking in your boots. A weasel like that isn’t going to stay quiet for long.”

  Eddie smiled. “Don’t be so sure.” He turned to Jimmy and Lewis, and the three men shared a laugh. “I get what I want.”

  Bull leaned closer. “So do we.” Jimmy stood, and Bull clamped a huge hand down on his shoulder and slammed him back down into the chair hard enough that Tristan expected it to break. “And we aren’t lowlife drug peddlers. But we do know how to make sure no one ever finds the bodies. Get me?” Bull glared, and for the first time Tristan saw a chink in Eddie’s armor. “Now, you boys enjoy your lunch, and you treat your server with respect at all times. He’s a very good friend of ours.”

  Eddie straightened his lapel and brushed off imaginary lint. “Like I said, I get what I want, one way or another.” He turned back to the table, and Bull stepped away.

  Tristan wasn’t sure what to do, so he grabbed a pitcher of water and refilled glasses. When he got to Eddie’s, he felt him wrap his hand around his wrist and squeeze. Tristan tried to pull away, and when Eddie wouldn’t let go, Tristan dumped the pitcher of ice water in Eddie’s lap. “I think you need to cool off.”

  All hell broke loose after that. Eddie let go of him and jumped to his feet. Lewis and Jimmy did the same, bumping the table so hard it overturned. Food and water went everywhere. Tristan raced away and thought about hiding in the kitchen, but he wasn’t a coward, at least not like that. He set the water pitcher in the service area, grabbed some napkins, and returned to the mess.

  Mrs. Martinelli stood over the fallen table. She glared at Tristan, then said, “I’m so sorry, gentlemen.”

  “Don’t be,” Bull told her. “He grabbed your server and was hurting him. He deserved whatever he got.” Bull slowly stood. “Maybe we should call the police and let them straighten all this out?”

  “No. It’s fine,” Eddie said magnanimously. “It was an accident.” Tristan stood back, watching water drip out of Eddie’s pant leg and onto his shoes. He did his best not to smile, but the more he told himself not to, the more it tried to bubble up.

  “This still isn’t right,” Mrs. Martinelli said, clearly upset.

  “It’s fine,” Eddie said, and then he reached into his pocket and pushed some cash into her hand. Then the three of them left, and Tristan began cleaning up the mess.

  “I want to talk to you,” Mrs. Martinelli told him.

  “Ma’am,” Harry said from the table. “We really did see the whole thing, and it wasn’t the server’s fault.”

  “We can’t treat customers like that,” Mrs. Martinelli said, and Tristan lowered his gaze, picking up dishes and overturned glasses.

  “Ma’am, if you want the honest truth, those aren’t the kind of customers you want,” Harry said. “We’re businessmen downtown. We own a nightclub, and we regularly run that type of patron out. They have their own product to sell, if you understand us.” Harry held her gaze until she gasped slightly. “Exactly.” Harry sat back down, and Bull did the same.

  Mona came in, and together they righted the table. Tristan swept up the broken glass and food. Mona brought a bus tray, and within a few minutes they had the mess cleaned up, and Mona was resetting the table for him. Mrs. Martinelli wasn’t done with him, but she’d bustled away after what Bull and Harry had said.

  “Did he hurt you?” Mona asked and pointed to Tristan’s wrist, which had purple marks on it. At least that might help him keep his job.

  “Not really.”

  “Well, if he did that, then he should get ice water in the lap.”

  Tristan leaned closer. “He’s my asshole ex.”

  Mona gaped at him. “Why didn’t you say so? I would have dumped the water on him.” She smiled, and Tristan began to giggle. He saw Bull and Harry looking at him and stopped. “Really, I would have switched tables with you,” Mona said. “What is he, a stockbroker?”

  “Drug dealer. He got off on a technicality, and now he’s decided to go after me. I keep hoping he’ll leave me alone, but you can see how well that’s going.” Tristan shifted his gaze to Harry and Bull, who were finishing their lunch.
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  “Go on and take care of them. We’re almost done here.” Mona shooed him away, and he checked on Harry and Bull before heading to the kitchen to face the music. Mrs. Martinelli met him and ushered him into her office.

  “You know you must treat our customers with respect. You always have, and yet today we have this mess. What am I going to do?”

  “I’m sorry. He’s…. He—” Tristan nervously wiped the back of his neck. Mrs. Martinelli gasped and reached for his hand. Tristan let her take it, and she stared at his wrist.

  “Did he do this?”

  Red finger marks were now visible. “Yes.”

  She nodded. “Then you should have dumped his lunch and the water on the bastard.” She smiled. “Mind you, don’t make a habit of it, but you have a right to defend yourself.”

  “Thank you,” Tristan said.

  “You’re a good server. You know how to hustle, and you take care of the customers. They really like you and come back because of the service. We don’t want a reputation for bad service, but I don’t want my employees hurt either. Are you okay to finish your shift?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tristan said. “If you’re done with me, I need to get back to work and finish the cleanup. Mona is supposed to leave in a few minutes.”

  “Of course,” she said and gave him a small smile. “Let me know if your hand hurts.”

  “It’s all right,” Tristan said and left, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as he got out of the office.

  “Are you in trouble?” Harry asked as Tristan filled their water glasses a few minutes later.

  “No. It’s okay.”

  “Good.” Harry set his napkin aside. “Bull and I need to get back to the club, but be sure to call when your shift is over, and I’ll come get you.”

  “I will,” Tristan said. He went and prepared the check. Harry paid and left a generous tip before saying good-bye. He and Bull left, and Tristan spent the rest of his shift handling the afternoon customers and preparing the dining room for dinner. The other servers came in, and Tristan stayed through the busiest portion of the dinner service and then called Harry to pick him up.

  “Are you leaving for the day?” Mrs. Martinelli asked from the hostess booth.

  “Yes, ma’am. My ride will be here soon.” He stepped out of the way of incoming diners and waited while she seated them.

  “This is for you. I figured up the tips from this afternoon, and this is what’s left minus Mona’s share.” She pressed some bills into his hand, and he shoved them into his pocket. His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out. It was a message from Harry, saying that he was out front.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tristan said good-bye and left the restaurant, then hurried to Harry’s car and got in. The first drops of rain hit the windshield as they pulled away from the restaurant. Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled over them as they began moving.

  “Did you get in trouble?” Harry asked. “Because I was two seconds from beating the crap out of him.”

  “I’m fine, and not really. Mrs. Martinelli understood, I think.” Tristan held his sore wrist in his other hand. “Eddie was sure angry, though.”

  “He was,” Harry agreed, chuckling. “He also looked like he’d wet himself.”

  Tristan chuckled as well, then said, “Where are we going?”

  “There are some things I need to finish up at the club, and then Bull is going to run things for tonight. I haven’t had a night off in a while, so Bull told me to stay away. He ordered me to, actually, so I got about an hour’s worth of stuff to do, and then we can go home.”

  “You’ll take me to my apartment?” Tristan really wanted to just go home.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can come home with me for a few more nights. Hopefully Eddie will realize you come with more trouble than he wants.”

  “You’re hoping he figures out I’m not worth it?” That hurt.

  “You’re worth it,” Harry said and turned to flash him a smile as the rain picked up, pounding on the windshield. Tristan turned away and smiled as he stared out the window.

  The drive took a while. Some of the storm drains clogged, backing up water onto the streets. Harry took it slow, and finally they pulled into the private lot beside the club and hurried inside so they didn’t get soaked.

  The club looked very different without the flashing lights and people, and it seemed kind of tacky to Tristan as he looked around. It was also lifeless and hollow sounding. Of course, it was designed to be seen in a completely different light, so to speak. Harry led him through to the office, and Tristan took a seat across from Harry’s desk.

  “I have a few tasks that I have to get done,” Harry said.

  “No problem,” Tristan said as he sank into one of the chairs across from Harry’s desk. He got comfortable and closed his eyes. He had run around all day and he was exhausted, especially after not sleeping too well the night before. He heard the door open, followed by quiet footsteps and the door closing again.

  “Shhh,” Harry said.

  “I’m awake,” Tristan whispered, opening his eyes to see Bull leaning over Harry’s desk.

  “I just got a call from the police. They can’t find the copy of the video surveillance footage we gave them yesterday. It seems to have gone missing. They need another copy, or the charges against Carlos won’t stand up, and they have just a few hours. They’re sending someone by to pick it up.”

  “I’ll make them another copy. No problem.”

  “How do the police lose evidence?” Tristan asked. “I thought they were supposed to be careful about stuff like that.”

  “They are,” Bull agreed and looked first toward him, then back at Harry. “Give Spook a call. I have a hunch, and I want his take on it too. He’s working tonight, so see if he can come in a little early.”

  “What are you thinking?” Harry asked, but Bull didn’t seem in the mood to talk. He left the office without another word. “I love the man to death, but he can be the biggest pain in the ass.” Harry sat down as the door reopened.

  “I am not a pain in the ass.” Bull closed the door again.

  “You are too,” Harry called back.

  Tristan smiled at the two of them bickering. He used to do that with his brother, but now they couldn’t be in the same room for more than fifteen minutes without the bickering turning into an all-out fight, usually centered on the fact that he was gay. Tristan stopped his mind from wandering. “What do you think all that’s about?”

  “Wish I knew,” Harry said and picked up the phone. From the conversation that ensued, Harry seemed to have gotten in touch with Spook, and Tristan heard that Spook was going to come in. After Harry hung up, the office remained quiet. Harry worked, most likely getting what the police needed, and Tristan closed his eyes. He must have dozed off, because he started awake when Bull and Spook came in.

  “What?” Tristan said before he realized what was happening.

  “We didn’t mean to disturb you, sleeping beauty,” Spook teased.

  “Leave him alone. He’s been through a lot,” Harry chided. “Now, what’s going on? I have the video for the police.”

  “I talked this over with Spook, and he agrees with me. Eddie let on more than he intended to at lunch.”

  “Huh?” Tristan said, perking up.

  “You may not have heard it, but when Harry chided him about Carlos, he hinted that Carlos wasn’t going to be inside for long, and guess what? The main evidence against him goes missing? Sound familiar? That’s exactly what happened when they brought charges against Eddie. He got off because key pieces of evidence sprouted legs,” Bull explained.

  “That bastard knew it. You could see it on his smug face,” Harry added. “Son of a bitch!”

  “Yeah, but it won’t happen this time. We’ll supply a replacement before the time they can charge him elapses, and we’ll make sure to back up the security data and take it off premises, just in case.” Bull sat down next to Tristan.

 
“The thing is, evidence doesn’t just disappear… unless someone is making it disappear. I think Eddie and his accomplice made an error this time,” Spook said levelly. “He’s definitely got someone in the police department on his payroll.”

  “Okay. Do we tell the officer when he gets here?” Tristan asked, and the other three shifted their gazes to him and then looked at each other. “It isn’t like we can prove anything.”

  A knock sounded on the door. Spook opened it and stepped out of the office, allowing the police officer inside.

  “I’m Officer Ken Douglas. I called about a replacement video.”

  “Yes, of course. I have it here for you. I’m Harry Klinger, and this is Bull Krebbs. He and I own the club.” They shook hands. Harry handed the disk to the officer. “This is Tristan Martin,” Harry continued, and Tristan shook the officer’s hand as well. “We normally keep our security video for two weeks, but I’ve made a permanent backup so if something like this happens again, we’ll be able to provide another copy if needed.”

  “We’re sorry about this. The previous copy you gave us disappeared. We looked at it at the station, but when we were getting everything ready for the arraignment, it was nowhere to be found.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Harry said, sharing a quick glance with Tristan.

  Tristan nodded that he understood and sat back down. He’d let them handle this.

  “Yes, it was,” Officer Douglas agreed stiffly. “I need to get back to the station. We’re under a deadline by the court, and….”

  “We understand. If there’s anything else you need, just let us know,” Harry said.

  “Thank you. I can let myself out,” Officer Douglas left the office, and Tristan wondered if Bull would go with him, but he stayed where he was. They shifted their gazes to the monitors, and Tristan watched as the officer left the club. He caught glimpses of Spook in some of the cameras, but not a clear picture.

  “How does he do that?”

  “Who, Spook? Years of training and paranoia,” Bull said. It sounded like a quip, but the delivery said Bull was dead serious.