The Departed

bad—
    Yes —an intact memory. Last night. He’d written in it last night. She heard that rapid-fire succession of his thoughts. Beau, Jack Daniel’s, the rage…
    Gasping, she pulled away, and at the same time, she stood up, jerking him to his feet. “Okay, pal, you gotta watch where you’re going.” She gave him a brittle, hard smile. “Like I was saying to Tiffany, be aware of what’s around you.”
    The journal. He kept track of everything in it, she suspected. She hadn’t seen anything beyond last night’s events, but her gut insisted there was more. Uncurling her hand from his arm, she backed away from him, bumping into Taylor’s body.
    Brendan stared at her, anger flicking in those cold, dead eyes. Anger…and fear.
    “I’ll keep a better eye out…Ms. Lincoln, right?” He smiled at her.
    Dez just stared at him. If that little punk thought he could scare her the way he’d scared Tiffany, he needed to think again. She’d be careful around him, no doubt about that—but fear? No chance in hell.
    Deliberately she held his gaze, and then she grinned at him and said, “You do that, kid.”
    Then she turned her back on him.
    * * *
     
    PULLING his mind out of the past, focusing on the here and now, was harder than it had ever been, but as the smug bastard stared at Dez, Taylor was able to focus just fine. Taking a single step, he put himself between the boy and the woman. As Brendan blinked and looked up at him, Taylor crossed his arms over his chest.
    Behind them, the hospital worker finished gathering things off the floor. “Housekeeping will be over in a few minutes to mop up the spills,” the man said. “Be careful of the wet areas.”
    Taylor nodded and waited until the man was out of earshot. “I guess you were distracted, worried about your friend.”
    The hesitation was so small, somebody who hadn’t been looking for it never would have seen it. Brendan sighed, his face settling into a sad, grieving expression, and damn if it wasn’t believable. “Yeah.” He reached up and touched the bruise around his left eye. “Distracted is one way to put it. We had a fight last night…I don’t want that to be the last time I talked to my best friend.”
    “Hmm.” Taylor reached up and stroked his chin.
    Brendan gave him a sheepish smile. “Guess maybe I shouldn’t be saying that to you, huh? I heard how you’re some hotshot FBI type, right, Mr. Jones? Or is it Special Agent Jones or what?”
    “Doesn’t matter.” What had Dez seen? he wondered. There was something—he knew it. And whatever it was, it had her either damned excited or damned spooked. What was it? He continued to study the boy, watching as Brendan grew more uncomfortable, watching as he squirmed and shifted his feet and fidgeted.
    “Well…” Brendan shot a look around Taylor to peer at Dez again. “I want to get back in there with Beau. It’s a damn good thing Tiffany found him, you know.”
    “Yes. It is. We’re going to make sure she’s well aware of how much it’s appreciated,” Taylor said, emphasizing the we , watching as Brendan’s lashes flickered, suppressing a smirk as that flash of anger heated his eyes for the briefest moment.
    The boy wasn’t as good as he thought he was, Taylor mused. “You go on in and be with your friend.” He paused, then added, “I want to speak with his mom while I’m here, but I won’t take up too much of her time.”
    “Why—” Brendan clamped his mouth shut.
    “Yes?”
    “Well, um, why do you need to talk with her?”
    Taylor shook his head and gave Brendan his best deadpan stare. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss that with you. I’ll leave you alone now. I need to talk to Tiffany, see where her folks are—I have to speak with them as well.” He waited long enough to see if Brendan would have much of a reaction, but there wasn’t one. Technically, he had no grounds to speak with anybody on this case. Of course, if he was going to be speaking to anybody, he wouldn’t necessarily be informing Brendan of his plans…unless, of course, he wanted to see the kid’s reaction. Or he wanted the kid to think people were on to him.
    Possibly both…
    For now, this just looked like a sad accident, but it couldn’t hurt for Brendan to think he was being watched. Hell, he was being watched and it was probably a good thing for him to know it.
    Brendan stood there for a few more seconds, shuffling his feet and trying his best to look unhappy, but all Taylor could see