Conduct Unbecoming (12 page)

The cat hopped up on the table, landed with a resounding thud. 
Purred loudly as he nudged against Dante’s hand.  “Sorry.”  Harley tried to scoop him up, but he nipped at her hand.  “Off Tolstoy,” she chided.

“
He’s alright.”  Dante smoothed a hand over the cat’s big silvery head.  “Yeah, you’re okay,” Dante crooned quietly, “aren’t you cat?”

Harley narrowed her eyes, muttered,
“The traitor’s name is Tolstoy,” under her breath. 

“
Tolstoy?”  Dante lifted an eyebrow.

“
Russian author, wrote
Anna Karenina
.”

“
And
War and Peace
, among other things.”  He smiled tolerantly.  “I know who Tolstoy is, Princess.  Just seems like kind of a shitty thing to name a cat.”

“
Guess that’s a matter of opinion.”  It surprised her, somehow, that he was familiar with Tolstoy, but she was determined not to think about it.  She quietly gathered their empty plates, put them in the sink.  Poured herself another mug of coffee.  “You want more?”

“
Sure, if you’re offering.”

She poured him a second cup, joined him at the table again. 
Settled back in her chair.  “So what’s next?”

“
Jesus,” he rubbed his forehead wearily, “I have no idea.”

“
I don’t mean to pry, but you and your brother don’t seem particularly... close.”

“
You don’t mean to pry?”  Dante lifted an eyebrow.  “Seriously?”

She ignored the dig, shrugged. 
“You don’t even look alike.”

“
Yeah, well, people say I take after our dad.  Enzo looks like Mom.”  Dante took another swallow of coffee.  “And before you ask, they’re both gone.  It’s just me and Enzo.”

“
I’m sorry.”  She reached out, touched his arm.

Danted
scrubbed a hand over his face.  “It was a long time ago.”

“
I’m still sorry.”

“
Pop used to say Enzo was born wearing rose colored glasses.”  Dante shook his head, remembering.  “Always happy, smiling.  Definitely a glass-half-full kind of kid.  Still is.”  He finished his coffee, pushed the empty mug aside.

“
What about you,” she asked quietly.  “What kind of kid were you?”

“
I
was a hard ass.  Always pushing, fighting.  And I always,
always
had to have the last word.”

“
Ah, so you’re saying nothing’s changed.”  She nodded, enjoying herself a little more than she’d anticipated.  “I mean, from where I sit you still seem pretty determined to have the last word...”

“
There you go again, Princess, hurting my feelings.”  Dante grinned, tipped his chair back on two legs.  “Lorenzo was... everything I wasn’t.  He was brilliant, and I barely made it through high school.  He was recruited by colleges all over the midwest.  Played baseball,” Dante shook his head, “hell of a pitcher.  I knocked around for a couple of years after high school, joined the department because I couldn’t think of anything better to do.”  He held his breath, waited.  Watched for her reaction.

Nothing.
  Either she was the consummate liar, or she really didn’t recognize him.  

“
The department?  So you’re a cop, too?”  Harley finished her coffee, took both their cups to the sink, rinsed them.

“
I
was
a cop.”  Still nothing.  He let his chair drop back on all four legs.  “Now I’m a bartender.”

“
Kind of an interesting career path, isn’t it?”  Her casual smile didn’t throw up any red flags.  Mild curiosity, at best.  

“
Honey, you have
no
idea.”  Dante shook his head.  “How about you?  Hard to believe being a” - he rolled his eyes - “reporter at the Voice could be somebody’s dream job.”

Opting to take the high road, Harley ignored the attitude, smiled. 
“I guess you could say it’s grown on me.”

“
If you say so.”  Dante stood up, dragged a hand over his face.  “I’m gonna take off for a while.”

“
I thought we were working together.”  Harley shot him a decidedly suspicious look.  “How do I know you’re not gonna try to ditch me?”

“
Guess you’re just gonna have to have a little faith, Princess.”  Dante lifted his shoulders.  “I need to crash for a couple hours, check on Leo.  I’ll be back.”  Dante drew an X over his chest with a finger.  “Cross my heart.” 

He could tell by the look on her face that she was a long way from trusting him.  That was okay.  He didn’t much trust her either.

Chapter
15

The building smelled like his childhood.  Like garlic and onions and warm, yeasty bread straight out of the oven.  Dante closed his eyes and breathed it in, felt some of the
tension in his shoulders ease away.  Not all, but some.

He knocked on Leo’s door, listened. 
Knocked again, louder.  He was just about to turn and leave when the door swung open.

“
Dante.”  Leo blinked up at him with an odd, hazy look in his eyes.

“
What’s going on?”  Dante looked past Leo and into the apartment. “I called the Station and they said you called in sick.  You okay?”

“
Yeah, sure.  I’m fine.”  Leo rubbed absently at his forehead.  “Just... got a little headache is all.”

They stood there for a second or two - Leo inside, Dante out - before Dante shifted his weight. 
“So can I come in?”

“
Sorry.”  Leo lifted a hand, gestured for Dante to come inside.  “Course you can.”

Dante walked through the familiar apartment, his hands shoved into his pockets.  There was a layer of dust on the furniture, newspapers stacked on the floor next to Leo’s favorite recliner.  And from the looks of it, a couple
weeks worth of takeout containers scattered across the kitchen counter.

“
Where’s Rose?” Dante asked.

“
Rose?”

Dante lifted his eyebrows. 
“Uh, Rose?”  He paused for effect.  “Your wife?”

“
Right.”  Leo shook his head, laughed ruefully.  “Sorry.  Fell asleep in my chair.”  He hooked his thumb back towards the recliner.  “Still a little out of it, I guess.  Rose is visiting her sister in California, so I’ve been on my own for a couple weeks.”

“
Bet it seems quiet around here,” Dante speculated.  The place had a kind of eerie stillness about it.  Rose was like the energizer bunny on speed.  She cooked, she cleaned.  The woman baked her own bread for Christ’s sake.  No wonder the place - not to mention Leo - seemed a little hollowed out without her.

“
Yeah,” Leo said in a low voice.  “Pretty quiet.  So.”  He rubbed his palms together.  “You want something to drink?  Coffee?  Beer?”

“
Coffee would be good.”  From the looks of it, Leo could use a cup, too.  Jesus, he really did look like death warmed over.

Dante followed Leo into the kitchen, leaned back against

the counter.  Watched Leo wander around the kitchen, looking lost and slightly dazed, opening one cabinet, then another.  He frowned, scratched his jaw, digging out a dusty-looking jar of crystals.  “I guess we’re out of coffee.”  He held up the jar.  “I’ve got instant.  That okay?”

“
Sure.”  Instant was still coffee, right?  How bad could it be?

So Leo boiled water and measured crystals, slid Dante a mug, took the second one for himself.  When Dante took a drink, Leo asked,
“Is it okay?”

Dante
nodded, then lied through his teeth.  “It’s good.”  He set the mug aside, folded his arms over his chest.  “So listen, I need a favor.”

“
What kind of favor?” Leo asked cautiously.

“
Need a little more info on Bobby Vega.”

Leo nearly dropped his mug. 
“Why?”

“
He lied, Leo.” 

“
About what?” Leo stammered.

Dante snorted, shook his head. 
“He said he’d never been to Roxi’s, for one.”

“
And you know this is a lie because...”  Leo gestured for him to go on, eyebrows lifted. 

“
Let’s just say a little birdie told me.”  Dante smirked.

“
The blonde from the hospital?  Who is she, anyway?”

Dante sighed.  The looking up and to the left thing was not conclusive and he knew it, maybe he’d keep it to himself. 
“She’s just some reporter.   Does it matter?”

“
Why would it matter?” Leo asked, but for whatever reason, it obviously did.  “Vega’s married, you know.  Maybe he doesn’t want his wife to know he hangs out at titty bars.”

“
So why did he lie about Enzo having a girlfriend?”

“
Who says he did?”

“
I went through his apartment, Leo,” Dante insisted.  “Trust me, there is a girlfriend.”

Leo shrugged again. 
“So Enzo didn’t tell him.”

“
Since when have you known Enzo to have an unspoken thought?  Besides, they’re in that squad car eight hours a day.  It woulda come up.”

Leo shook his head. 
“Dante, I don’t know if I can-”

Dante lifted a hand to cut him off. 
“Just... see what you can find out.”  He set his mug in the sink and turned to leave, called back over his shoulder.  “And you should take it easy, man.  Seriously.  You
really
don’t look good.”

Chapter 16

“
Why
are we here again?” Harley whined, dragging her feet a little as Dante pulled her along behind him.  Roxi’s was crowded tonight, standing room only, and he had his hand so tightly wrapped around hers that her fingers were numb. 

“
Say the word and I’ll take you home, Princess.”  Dante looked back over his shoulder at her, narrowed his eyes. 

“
We’re
supposed
to be working together,” she pointed out. 

“
We are.”  Dante managed to snag a table in the back of the room, steered Harley toward an empty chair.  Her skirt wasn’t short by any means, but she found herself perching at the edge of her seat to avoid contact between the back of her thighs and the chair itself.  As far as Harley was concerned, the ick factor in this place was off the charts.  Dante, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to it.  He settled into his chair, declared, “Doesn’t make me happy about you being here.”

O-
kay.  So much for the illusion of a partnership developing between them.  Harley tried not to let it sting.  “Hey, you say the word and I’m out of here.  If memory serves, this,” she gestured between the two of them, “was your idea.”

Dante scrubbed a hand over his face,
then lifted it in surrender.  “Truce?”

“
Whatever,” Harley murmured, rolled her eyes.

“
Look, I didn’t mean-”

Before Dante could attempt an apology, a top-heavy waitress - surprise, surprise, another one - approached their table.  Instead of taking their order, she slipped Dante a folded piece of paper.

Harley leaned in close, whispered, “What is it?”

Dante read the note, frowned. 
“It’s from Chablis.  She must have seen us come in.”  He stood up and took Harley’s hand, pulled her out of her chair.  “Come on.”

“
Where are we going?”

“
This way.”

Harley let herself be hauled back through the crowd again.  She kept her mouth shut until Dante pulled her into a small, dark room - some sort of storage closet, maybe? -
then muttered, “Are you fricking kidding me?” under her breath when the door swung shut behind them.