Paying The Piper - 15. Chapter 15

The most popular man in Farther's Run accosted Quent in the parking lot.

“Quent!” Drew called. Quent kept walking. Of course, he didn’t reach his car before Drew caught up with him. That would have been a stroke of luck, and events to date had proven luck avoided him like the plague.

“Make it fast, Marcus.” Quent unlocked the door.

Drew leaned against the car to catch his breath. “Where are you going?”

Quent paused in opening the door. He turned to Marcus. “I’m sorry,” he said with extreme politeness, “but that’s none of your fucking business.”

Drew laughed and Quent cursed him for being difficult to intimidate. “I just thought you might want some company.”

“You thought wrong.”

“I haven’t known Braden long, but it’s obvious you two have a history. Somebody objective might see something you would miss.”

Quent slammed his door shut and advanced on Marcus. “What makes you think I’m going to see Braden White?”

Drew shrugged. “It’s the most logical course of action. Start talking to the people Marci was blackmailing. If it were me, I’d start with the convicted felon.”

“I’m not you. The very thought makes me nauseous. And how do you know about White’s past?”

Drew smiled and walked around to the passenger side door. “Braden told me. Hit the unlock button, would you?”

“Fuck off, Marcus.” Quent climbed into his car. Then he hit the lock button for good measure. He tried to slam the door, but in a flash Marcus was there, holding it open. His demeanor was suddenly serious.

“It’s unwise to go alone.”

“I’m a big boy, Marcus. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll carry some mace in my pocket,” Quent drawled.

“Please.” Drew resisted when Quent tried to shut the door again.

Quent hissed in annoyance. “This hero complex will not help you get Cale into bed,” he lashed out. “Now – fuck off!”

Drew’s jaw clenched. “No, it won’t. But it may help keep him safe.”

Quent stopped pulling on the door. He cursed Drew Marcus to hell. Twice. Then he hit the unlock button. “Get in,” he snapped.

**********

As with his last visit, The Tin Man was closed. Quent strode to the side entrance and banged on the metal door. Drew caught up with him just as it opened. Braden made a face when he saw Quent.

“There goes the neighborhood,” he mumbled. He quickly spied Drew peeking around Quent’s tall frame. He smiled slowly. “Drew! What the hell are you doing with this bastard?”

Drew laughed. “Just helping out where I can. You know me.”

Braden gave a cautious nod. He didn’t move aside to let them in. “What do you want, Quent?”

“I have a few more questions.”

“They couldn’t wait?”

“Of course they could have.” Quent gave an evil grin. Behind him, Drew sighed in frustration. He pushed past Quent and held out his hand. Braden shook it right away, and Quent sneered at the exchange. Braden sneered right back. “Don’t expect the same, Quent.”

“No worries, White. Just the idea makes me want to shower.”

Drew rolled his eyes. “Can we come in?”

Reluctantly, Braden led them inside. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He went right to the bar and poured himself a drink. “Well, get on with it,” he called from across the room.

Just as Quent opened his mouth to speak, Drew interrupted. “What was Marci using to blackmail you, Braden?” he asked. Quent shot him a withering look.

Braden laughed. He picked a table and sat down. Drew and Quent joined him. “Nothing.”

“She kept a file on you,” Quent supplied.

“Well, she must've been hoping I’d pay her, but it wasn’t going to happen.” Braden took another swallow of his drink. “She tried. Guess she thought I was an easy mark, being a…well, with my history. Idiot girl didn’t know who she was dealing with,” he mumbled.

Drew shot Quent a look, and Quent pulled out his notebook. “Elaborate,” he ordered.

“She cornered me one night. Remarked how well the bar was doing. I never much cared for the little know-it-all. Thought she was too smart by half. Anyway, next thing I know, she comes in one morning, about the same time that you always show up…which must be the magic hour for idiots and losers…and tells me…upfront…that she’s going to go to you,” he pointed at Quent, “and say that I attacked her.”

“Really?” Quent asked, managing to sound bored. His pencil scratched across the paper.

Braden nodded. He looked to Drew for support. Quent was pleased to see Drew kept a neutral expression on his face. “And then what, Braden?” Drew asked.

“I told her to go ahead. Sure, you’d probably believe her. Who was I kidding? And I might even go back to jail. She figured that was probably the worst thing I could imagine. Well – she was wrong.” Braden finished his drink. “The worst thing would be to lower myself to her level.” He slammed his empty glass on the table and looked Quent in the eye. “I’ve never broken the law. I don’t plan to start now.”

Silence reigned for several seconds. Then Quent made another note in his book. “Would you be willing to show me your personal banking statements as well as the statements for the bar?” He didn’t look at Braden when he asked.

Drew, however, was watching carefully. He didn’t miss the brief look of fear that flashed across the barkeep’s face. Braden recovered quickly. He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Let’s talk about Cynthia,” Quent said.

Braden sighed. “What about her?”

“It was pretty serious between the two of you,” Drew cut in. Quent ground his teeth together, but didn’t comment.

Braden looked at Drew. “Who told you that?”

Drew was relentless. “You did.” At Braden’s confused look, he explained. “It was in your voice when you talked about her. It was what you didn’t say. I could tell, Braden.”

Braden jumped from his seat. He walked to the bar and poured another drink. Quent watched the little drama quietly. He doubted Drew’s transparent ploy to get White to talk would work.

“It was like this, Drew,” Braden began as he plopped iced cubes into his drink. Quent raised an eyebrow and glanced at Drew, grudgingly appreciating his judgment. Obviously, half-wits like White wouldn’t know transparent if it bit them on the ass.

“I know we had a lot going against us. The age difference. My past. Her…well, you know. But we connected, you know? I thought there was a chance we could overcome the hurdles. Be happy.”

“But?” Quent prompted impatiently. Drew shot him nasty look.

“But?” Braden gave Quent a self-depreciating smile. “I’m just a foolish old man. Who doesn’t know shit.” He and Quent stared at each other across the room. “Gonna ask me if I killed her, Quent?” Braden asked finally.

Quent tapped his pencil on his leg. “No.” He stood up. “Let’s go, Marcus.”

He awarded Marcus one point for standing obediently. He detracted it right away when the annoying brat went to shake White’s hand again. Braden agreed to have the bank statements collected and delivered to Quent’s office in a few days. He didn’t see them to the door.

Back in the car, Drew turned to Quent. “Why didn’t you tell him Cynthia was in on the blackmailing scheme?”

“Because we have no concrete proof of that yet.”

Drew gave a half-smile. “And it would have hurt Braden even more. I believe you might actually have a heart, Quent.”

“Refrain from psychoanalyzing me, if you please.”

Drew sighed and fastened his seat belt. Quent pulled out of the parking lot. “He just wants someone to care about him,” Drew mumbled.

Quent snorted. “You can pick up love on any street corner. As long as you’re willing to pay the price.”

“You’re a cynical man.”

“Thank you.”