Bad Behavior (Bad in Baltimore) (4 page)

C
hapter Three

T
he next time Bob decided to go on a bender, he could fucking well get some paperwork out of the way first. After the adventure with Beauchamp this morning, Tai’s day had been quiet. His spot-check on his teenagers found them both in summer school where they were supposed to be. With only him and DiBlasi, they couldn’t do much out of the office, so Tai gritted his teeth and started clearing through Bob’s files.

At six thirty that night, Tai slammed the drawer on his filing cabinet and punched the lock. Before he could get the hell out, Sutton popped up in his doorway.

The field director looked like shit, and Tai could almost feel sorry for the bastard, if it wasn’t his own damned fault for enabling Bob’s fuckups until everything hit the fan.

Sutton pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving his glasses sideways. “What was that case you were bitching about this morning?”

“David Beauchamp, some asshole with more money than brains. He—”

Sutton held up a hand. “I don’t give a shit what’s got your panties in a twist. You wanna switch it with one of DiBlasi’s, tell him I said to do it.”

Tai nodded.

“You’re welcome, Fonoti. They don’t do manners where you come from?”

“Washington Hill?” Tai squared his shoulders.

“Really? Thought you were Hawaiian or something.”

Or something
fit. Tai had been checking the “Other” box under ethnicity all his life. Black, yes. White, yes. Pacific Islander, yes. “Samoan.”

“Yeah? How they say thank you in Samoan?”

“I don’t know. I grew up in Washington Hill.” Other than when he’d been hired, this was the longest conversation Tai had ever had with Sutton. And he hoped they never had another one go on this long.

“You said.” Sutton hoisted the strap of an overstuffed business case to his shoulder. “Okay. That’s it. Aloha, Fonoti.”

“Still not Hawaiian,” Tai muttered under his breath.

A
s Tai pulled his head out from under the shower, he heard the last of his ringtone cut off as his phone went to voicemail. He finished rinsing and hopped out, drying enough to grab his phone. Four missed calls in a six-minute shower was pretty impressive.

He played his voicemail.

DiBlasi first: “Who the fuck is this asshat you’re dumping on me? I’m sticking you with both of Bob’s JD girls for this. Did you fucking forget my daughter’s getting married tomorrow?”

Whatever. No one liked getting stuck with the female juvenile offenders, but it was better than dealing with Beauchamp after what had happened.

His mom was next: “Hi,
la’u tama
. Phillip and I both have the Fourth off for a change. We’d love to have you out for a barbecue. You know I’d love to see Sammie, and Gina is always welcome. Or if there’s someone you’d like me to meet…”

The word boyfriend might not be something his mom found it easy to use in connection to her only son, but she’d accepted his explanation for why he’d be supporting Sammie as his daughter but not marrying the baby’s mother. He couldn’t help but wonder if his mom had harbored some hope he’d have an epiphany of normal. But her hopes—and Tai’s illusion of family—had all gone to hell when Josh came back in the picture. Josh and the damned paternity test. Tai couldn’t wrap his brain around that. For three years Sammie’d been his. She would always feel like his, no matter what the DNA said. With that ache nice and fresh, he should have predicted the next message would be from Gina.

“Having a barbecue tomorrow if you want to stop over.”

Yes, stop over and see Sammie and Gina snuggled in with Josh’s family. Josh put up with Tai coming around, let him have access to the child who still called him Daddy—mostly because of Gina. Though he was glad Josh had moved them out to Overlea. Better schools, less chance of Sammie running around with future probation clients.

The last one read out as private number.

“Ah—um—well.” The voice was barely familiar, a tease in his ears. “My lawyer—well, it’s Beach, uh, David Beauchamp. My lawyer said I should call you. I’m afraid I’m going to be a bit delayed for my curfew. My car’s been impounded.” Then quickly, “I wasn’t breaking any laws, not even speeding. But…” After he let that trail off, the message was over.

Tai pressed
call back
. As soon as he heard some breath on the line he snapped, “What happened?”

“It was a DUI trap. I wasn’t drinking. You can check your little monitor thing. But they decided to run my plates. Did you know you can earn a lot of parking tickets when you’re in a coma?” A pained inhalation. “Are they always so brutal with those tow trucks?”

“Generally.”

“My poor baby. So I was told to let you know that there were extenuating circumstances. I suppose I should call a cab.” The tone suggested a cab ride was a minor improvement over a ride in a manure truck.

“Where’d they get you?”

“I was hoping you knew. Doesn’t this handy-dandy device strapped to my body keep you informed of my whereabouts?”

It did, but only sent out an alert if the client went somewhere out of bounds or triggered the ethanol detector. Tai wasn’t about to give Beauchamp that information. “You have no idea where you are. And you aren’t drinking?”

“I was between here and there according to the route in my GPS. Hang on a moment.” No waiting for Tai to agree, only the assumption that he would. And then Beauchamp’s voice again tinny, muffled, “Might I inquire where on God’s green earth I find myself stranded?”

The guy would be lucky if he didn’t end up busted just for being an asshole.

“I’m in some wilderness known as Boston Street, east of the intersection with South Haven. Brewers Hill. Apparently they felt that an apt location for their trap.”

“Beauchamp. Shut up.” Tai released the punishing grip on his phone and flexed his fingers. Beauchamp would have a hell of a time getting a cab down there. But he was DiBlasi’s problem now. Tai was about to tell Beauchamp to call his new PO when he remembered DiBlasi’s
Did you fucking forget my daughter’s getting married tomorrow?
They’d done each other favors before. And if it was anyone but Beauchamp, Tai wouldn’t have hesitated to bite the bullet now. So that meant if he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, he’d be better off treating Beauchamp like a regular client. Even if nothing about Beauchamp was regular. “Yeah, I know where that is.” And it wasn’t far. All the more reason to pitch in and save DiBlasi from a different kind of hangover when he came in on Monday.

“How useful for you.”

Before Tai could respond to the condescension, a deep exhalation whooshed over the line.

“My apologies, Officer. It’s one thing to face consequences for your actions while awake, quite another to have them thrown at you for something out of your control.”

Maybe Beauchamp was digging for sympathy, but that sigh had acted like a balloon deflating, taking the snotty brat with it. With a sigh of his own, Tai muttered, “Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Stay there. I’ll pick you up and take you home.”

Beauchamp’s answer wasn’t at all arrogant, and the hair on the back of Tai’s neck stood on end as the man purred, “How very gallant. I’ll be waiting.”

T
he cops still had their checkpoint running when Tai pulled over to the side, holding out his badge for the cop who came up to his window.

“Jez, stay down.” He used his sternest voice, and he heard her settle across the backseat with a grunt. He had to be honest, he hadn’t brought her out of necessity. He’d walked her at lunch and taken her for their long walk after dinner. No, he’d brought her along as a big, furry chaperone.

The cop checked his badge, then scanned the interior of Tai’s Focus hatchback. Tai knew the exact moment the cop saw Jez, the way he reared back, hand on his piece.

Tai had no doubt Jez was holding her stay. He might have fucked up more often than he’d care to admit, but saving her from doggie death row was the one sure good thing he’d done in his life. She was completely broken of all her bad habits.

The cop moved his hand away from his holster and tossed Tai’s badge back at him. “You here on business?”

“Picking up a probie. You impounded his car.”

“Yeah, the smart-assed gimp.” The cop straightened and waved. “All yours. If you feed him to the dog, I wanna watch.”

Beauchamp limped across the beams from Tai’s headlamps, one hand on the hood, the other shielding his eyes as he peered through the window. Was he expecting a friendly wave? A thumbs-up?

Tai jerked his thumb at the passenger door. With a grin, he released Jez. “Good stay, girl.”

She stood on the backseat, shaking herself as Beauchamp opened the door, then thrust her head into the space between the seats. Even Tai still startled when faced with the size of her head, the gleam of teeth closing in.

Beauchamp stood motionless as Jez loomed at him, then tilted her head. Tai kept a cautious hand near her collar, but he wanted to see how it would play out.

Beauchamp’s gaze flicked over at Tai for an instant before he lowered his lids and performed what Tai could only describe as a bow—to the dog.

“The honor is mine.” Beauchamp eased his hand forward in a closed fist.

Jez hesitated.

“Okay, Jez.”

She sniffed around Beauchamp’s fist, then his wrist. In the rearview mirror, Tai spotted her stub of a tail wiggling around in Jez-speak for happy.

“You getting in?” Tai drummed on the steering wheel.

“If everyone agrees to that course of action.” Again Beauchamp spoke directly to Jez.

Jez licked Beauchamp’s hand, and he opened it to rest the palm on her head. She nudged for pets.

“Everyone’s on board. Get in. Lie down, Jez.”

Beauchamp lowered himself into the passenger seat, placing the cane between his legs. “You know there’s no difference in the way you snap commands whether to me or your dog. Are you like this with all of the people you supervise, or am I special?”

That was exactly what Tai didn’t want to think about.

After Beauchamp had hooked his seat belt, Tai reversed them back onto Boston Street, grumbling, “So are you supposed to be the dog whisperer?”

Beauchamp pressed himself into the corner so he was angled toward Tai. “Isn’t the dog a bit over the top? You have a badge, a gun and a chest that could double as the deck of an aircraft carrier. Did you actually need a rottweiler?”

“She’s a rescue.”

Beauchamp’s rigid posture softened. Jez’s face popped up between the seats again, and Beauchamp stroked her forehead, rubbed behind her ears.

“If she’s being a pest—”

“I love dogs.”

“Should have seen her when I brought her home.”

“Hardly her fault if she was abused by people who damn well ought to be neutered.”

Tai grunted agreement. That would have been the least of what he’d have had in store for the assholes trying to start a dog-fighting business out of Armistead Gardens. Still, not even the judge who’d initially ordered her put down or, hell, Tai’s ex-boyfriend Donte could argue Jez’s transformation from the unpredictable snapping animal she’d been into model citizen.

Back when Tai thought he knew why things had gone to shit with Donte, Tai had shown Jez off, shown how docile and obedient she could be when treated the right way. And it had seemed to work, Donte kneeling to let her lick his face. But in response to the question Tai had only half been able to ask, his muttered, “So?” with a nod around the apartment, Donte had given Jez a last rub around the ears, and with his hand on the back of his own neck as if for protection said, “I didn’t leave because I was scared of the dog, Tai. I left because I was scared of you.”

One thing about Beauchamp. He didn’t scare. Even when he probably should. His fancy Ferrari impounded, being driven home by his probation officer, and he took up space there in Tai’s passenger seat with lazy confidence. Like he’d set the whole thing up to get chauffeured home.

Thank God it was a short trip to the address Tai remembered from the file. A short trip to Beauchamp getting the hell out of Tai’s life before he did something he really regretted.

Beauchamp’s address was one of those new apartment complexes for the beautiful people coming to Fell’s Point and blocking the view for the people who’d lived there through the shitty times. Tai hated the way going past the gate made him feel, so he flashed his badge before Beauchamp could offer his own ID to the guard.

When they pulled up in front of the chrome and glass and fountained entrance with the artsy iron fire pit and sculpture, he knew he couldn’t get Beauchamp out of the car fast enough. Tai’s palm itched with the need to wrap around Beauchamp’s neck, drag him down, put his face into the footwell. And for the worst reasons. Reasons that made it hard to trust himself.

Avoiding temptation, Tai stared straight ahead at the row of birches lining the drive. “Here you go. Made your curfew.”

When Beauchamp didn’t move, Tai leaned across him and popped open the door. Beauchamp put a hand on Tai’s forearm.

The skin-to-skin contact froze him, muscles tightening under the light touch. Now he wanted his hand on the back of Beauchamp’s neck for an entirely different purpose.

When Tai didn’t pull away, Beauchamp gently closed his fingers. “I wonder if you’d be so kind as to take me into the parking garage, up to my floor. I’d invite you in, save you a trip for that home visit you promised.” His voice was silk and sunshine, teasing the edge of open seduction. “You can check for all the illegal substances you want. Of course, Jez would be welcome too.”

Tai dragged his arm back. “No, thank you.”

“I’m disappointed to hear there’s nothing in my apartment you might find of interest. Are you sure?” Beauchamp’s self-mocking humor kept the line from being over the top.

Tai regripped the steering wheel as he imagined smooth, warm and wet sliding down his dick instead of hinting in his ear. Not happening. Beauchamp might not be his probie anymore, but he was still in county custody.

“Get out.” Tai clenched his teeth against the wave of disappointment when Beauchamp pushed open the door.

“On second thought, I hear this is the best sport-fishing season they’ve had in a long time off the Eastern Shore. I’d like to head out to Ocean City, see if I can’t beat my record white marlin.”