Thin Air (Weather Warden #6)

"Water under the bridge," he said. "Now. Just so we understand each other, Jo, I did put up your bail money. It wasn't purely because I like you, although I do...or because I love your sister, although I do love her, obviously. It's because I have a business proposition for you, and I thought this might be an opportunity to have your full and undivided attention while we discuss the details."

What kind of business did I have with Sarah's boyfriend? I felt a growing sense of disquiet, and it wasn't anything I could put my finger on... Eamon's body language was kind, gentle, unaggressive. His eyes were bright and his smile a bit too sharp, but that might have been my own paranoia. Yes, the trailer wasn't a Malibu beach house, but it wasn't exactly a horrifying dump, either. Sarah was on drugs-I was nearly sure of that-but that didn't mean danger to me, only to her.

And yet. And yet.

"A business proposition," I repeated, locking gazes with Eamon. "Go on. I'm all ears. Anybody who puts up bail money gets that much."

His smile got wider. "You might not recall, but I had a small business venture under way in Florida when you arrived back there and took up residence. I was investing in construction with some silent partners. I was hoping to revive that effort, maybe do something on the West Coast for a change. I'd like to have your commitment to be involved."

"I'm not really up for investing," I said. "What with the murder charge, and the fact that I seem to be running a little short of cash. Nothing personal."

Something flashed in his eyes, and I had no idea why he'd find that funny. "No indeed," he agreed. "Not personal in the least. Well, to be blunt, you do owe me, Joanne. Not just for the bail, although obviously I have to consider that. No, before you left Florida, you promised to locate something very rare and very special for me-something I needed a great deal. As it turned out, you had a bit of a problem delivering on your promise, which was very disappointing for me, and caused me to lose something that I really wasn't planning to give up. But as you said, water under the bridge, and that's certainly far downstream at this point. Both our circumstances have changed-perhaps not, in your case, for the better. So please consider my offer as being a way for you to get back on your feet, in a sense, as well as a way to repay your debts to me."

"I see."

"It's either that or, regretfully, I'll have to ask you to immediately pay back the money. As you heard, I'm waiting on a funds transfer from Asia, but various political problems in that part of the world are causing delays. And, of course, I had to sink some of my capital into providing for your temporary freedom, pending trial. So perhaps you'd like to contact your bank and have them wire me about five thousand dollars. That should tide us over."

In a trailer like this, in Ares, Nevada? I imagined that five thousand would probably tide them over for months on end. In style. Even if Sarah's drug habit was worse than I thought. "I'm sorry," I said. "Even if I wanted to, I can't. I don't have any cash. No wallet, no credit cards, no checks. Nothing. I can't even go to a bank and draw out cash with no identification. If it makes you feel any better, I'm just as pissed about that as you are."

"Ah," Eamon said, and sat back, eyes going half-lidded and remote. "Well. How ever are you planning to pay me back for your bail money, then, if you're not interested in the investment and you can't provide the cash?"

"It's a temporary situation. It'll all-"

"Work out?" he supplied dryly. "Yes. I'm sure it will. Things do seem to do that for you. The favored, fortunate child, aren't you just?" Eamon suddenly came up with a lovely, charming smile, which he turned on my sister like a cannon, with about the same effect. "Sweets, why don't you give us a moment alone?"

Sarah clouded over, but it was a foregone conclusion that she'd obey. I ignored the intervening whines and concentrated on Eamon and on my environment. What kind of trouble was I in? And what could I do about it?

Sarah finally left the room, went to the bedroom, and slammed the thin, scratched door behind her.

He watched her go, his eyes intent and strangely fond, and without any change in his expression Eamon said, "I don't want to alarm your sister, but I'll warn you, if you try to pull any of your magical shit with me, I'll make both of you pay for it. Are we clear, then?"

It felt like he'd kicked me in the stomach. I opened my mouth but didn't quite know what to say. What the hell had just happened?

"Right," he said. "Enough of our little dance, my dear. You're a puzzle to me at the moment-a not entirely unattractive one, but I have issues of my own to overcome, so I'm not terribly concerned about yours. Although you certainly can't believe some of the things you've been telling me, and I wonder what kind of mad plan you have in mind if you're lying about so much, and so blatantly. Nothing to my benefit, I'm sure. Well, let's be blunt, then: I need to get out of this town before I either go mad or do something quite unpleasant to your dear sister. Neither of us wants that, and I'm sure you'd like to help me out in this."

"Are you threatening Sarah?" I asked. I stood up-not because I meant to, just because my muscles tensed so badly I couldn't sit still. I stared at him, and he smiled, still entirely at ease.

"Oh, yes," he said. "Come, now, don't act surprised. You knew it was coming, love; it was just foreplay to get there. Now we're down to the sweaty parts."

"Watch it."

"Well, you know that I do enjoy that as well," he said, and grinned like a wolf. It made my skin crawl. Who was this guy? Why couldn't I get a decent read on him?

"Why'd you really bail me out?" I demanded. Eamon shrugged and tossed back the rest of his drink in one neat mouthful.

"I suppose because Sarah felt it was the thing to do, and I was curious about what you'd do and say; besides, I thought you might be useful. You had to know that I had her sometime, and it seemed to be a good time to press my advantage in that area. Tell the truth. Did you know I'd be with her? I know you were very serious about the threats you delivered last time, and I don't underestimate your ability to carry through...except that you do seem to be more alone than ever. What's wrong, love? Finally drive away the last few people who cared about you?"

I felt a buzzing in my head and a buildup of power along my spine. You can fry him like an egg, I thought. Erase any trace of this asshole. It'd be a public service. Except that I wasn't a murderer, and I didn't aspire to become one, either. I controlled my anger and directed it in less mutilating ways. "So tell me, was Sarah already an addict when you brought her to this little paradise, or did you start her on that once you got her here, just to keep her occupied?" I asked. "And don't give me any you-didn't-know bullshit. I know, and-" And I just met her. I didn't want to say that, though. One thing about Eamon: He was inspiring me to keep my cards close to my vest. "And I don't live with her."

I thought I saw a deep flash of something in his eyes, quickly hidden. Anger? Appreciation? No idea. He was pretty hard to read, all around. His physical cues-a relaxed posture, friendly smile, graceful and gentle gestures-were all completely at odds with what I sensed was going on inside of him. Tightly controlled, this guy. And dangerous. I was sure of that part.

"Hardly my master plan. Sarah was bored," he said. "I didn't encourage her, but no, I didn't stop her, either. It keeps her...relatively content. And I'm sure you know that Sarah can be demanding. She's always going on about how much she misses her old life, with all her country club friends and shopping sprees. And while I'd love to give her that life...well. It's not possible, given what I do."

"And what is it you do?" I asked.

"Oh, love," he said. "You know exactly what I do. I'm a criminal. I'm a very bad man, and if you don't remember that, well, there's something very wrong with you, isn't there? And that can only work to my advantage."

The trailer was starting to close in on me. I was thinking wistfully of open forest, cold, sharp air, the company of David and Lewis. Good times, even if I'd thought I'd been suffering. This was suffering, right here. What my sister was going through with this asshole was real suffering, and he had every intention of spreading the joy to me, too.

"What do you want?" It came out harsher than I intended. My hands were curled into fists, and I forced my aching fingers to straighten out.

Eamon smiled at me, the same blindingly charming smile he'd used on Sarah. Luckily I was wearing my cynical sunglasses. "You don't remember, do you? None of it. Not Quinn. Not what happened in Florida. No wonder you're so careful when you say something to me. Couple of critical mistakes along the way, though: First, Thomas Quinn and Orry are one and the same, and you of all people should have remembered that, if you remembered anything. It was a bit important to you, that piece of information."

"What do you want?"

"Almost nothing, really. I just want you to change the weather," he said. "See? Couldn't be easier. Do that, and I'll forget the money you owe me, the favors you failed to perform, and I'll put your sister into rehab and part ways with her for good. I'll leave you and yours strictly alone in the future. In short, I'll give you everything you want, Joanne."

"In exchange for changing the weather."

"Exactly."

"Where?"

"Ah." His teeth flashed, white and slightly crooked, just enough to give him character. I could see how Sarah got sucked into this guy's orbit; she didn't strike me as especially strong, and Eamon just radiated competence. Bad competence, sure, but..."I'll show you, but not until we have an agreement. Do we?"

"No. We don't."

"Damn. I was hoping I wouldn't have to raise the stakes, but you really leave me very little choice." The warmth drained out of his smile. "Things can happen to your sister. Terrible things. I'm not saying that I would personally do them, but such things can be outsourced these days, and it's such a cold, cruel world for a sensitive woman with a drug problem, yeah?"

I was almost speechless with fury. "You-"

"Ah!" He held up a long finger and waggled it gently from side to side. "Let's not insult each other. We both understand that Sarah's a dependent personality; if I want her to stay with me, she'll stay, no matter how I treat her. No matter how much I hurt her. If you want to ensure your sister's future safety and happiness, you're going to have to pay me off. And that means this one simple favor."

"Fine," I snapped. He raised his eyebrows. "What, you want me to sign it in blood? You've made your fucking point!"

Eamon sniffed the air. "Is that brimstone I smell? Love, I'm not the devil. I don't require signatures, and I wouldn't want your grimy, well-used soul, either. Don't play the innocent with me; I've seen you without your airs and social graces." His eyes focused in on me like laser guidance systems for a bomb. "And by the way, I know what Orry did to you that day in the desert. I don't blame you for killing him. It did put me to a spot of inconvenience, but no one can debate that he deserved what happened to him out there."

That spoke volumes about things I didn't remember, and was glad I couldn't. I shuddered, but I did it inside, where he couldn't see. "Let's leave the past out of it," I said. "So I do this thing for you, and you're out of my life? Out of my sister's life?"

"Once and for all," he said. "Truthfully, I'm a bit sorry I ever came back into it. She's...difficult. But I did-and do-care about her. Please believe that. It's not all about leverage. If it had been, I'd have kicked her to the curb weeks ago, when she ceased to be amusing."

Strangely, I did believe that. Or wanted to, anyway. "I wish you had," I said. "She'd be better off."

He gave me a pitying look. "When I take the trash to the curb, I put it out in plastic bags," he said. "Think, love. I never claimed I was a good catch. But in my own way, I have tried to do my best for her."

"Just not enough to keep her off of drugs," I said.

He shrugged. "The only person who can keep Sarah clean is Sarah. You know that."

Eamon's philosophy of personal responsibility was convenient, to say the least. I got up and paced the trailer's worn carpet. The floor creaked. Eamon watched me without appearing worried about anything I might do; I stopped near a lopsided scattering of framed photographs and stared.

There I was, with my arm around Sarah. Happier times, clearly; I had a smug grin, and she looked rosy and glowing with happiness. Younger, both of us. There was another photo next to it of an older woman sitting on a beach, looking out to sea. There was a contemplative air to the picture, and a kind of sadness. I reached out and touched the face with a fingertip.

"I haven't seen this in years," I said. I was taking a guess that Eamon wouldn't bother with family photos-if he had, and I was pointing at a picture of his dear old mum from Manchester or wherever, I was probably screwed. He already knew my memory was faulty; I just didn't want him to know the extent of it. He'd probably assume it was confined to a specific period-hell, I'd have assumed that, in his place. The alternative would have seemed ridiculously unlikely.

Whatever he thought, he just said, "Sarah loves that photograph. She said it was your mother's favorite, as well. You took it, didn't you?"