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“You do realize my mother actually lives in Vegas,” Enid muttered, sitting down across from him. She pulled the cup in front of her close, inhaling the scent in the way that always made him think she should be alone with it. There were a few things that he didn't need to see as her brother. “Please tell me why the hell we're in Reno.”
He shrugged. He didn't want to think about it, actually, so he wasn't going to talk about it. “Reno has such an interesting ring to it, and I have actually never been here before.”
“That might be true, but when you lie to me, I find it very offensive,” Enid said, setting her coffee down. “I mean, you should be a lot better at it. I know you are. I've seen you con the biggest of skeptics into believing you, and yet when it comes to lying to me, you are like some actor reading from cue cards in a monotone voice.”
“That was not at all monotone.”
“So you had inflection in the words, and you even tried to use a bit of truth to be able to sell it better, but it didn't work,” she said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms over her chest. “What is it, Jay? Is it her?”
He shook his head. Not everything in his life was about Veronica, though he was sure in some ways it might seem to be. He'd still done his best to build a life without her in it, and he'd succeeded, too, for the most part. She had her own path, and he had his.
Trouble was, he didn't know what the hell that was anymore.
“You know, Vegas is all about the show.”
“You will not get me to impersonate Elvis, Enid. Don't even bother asking.”
She giggled, almost falling out of her chair she was laughing so hard. “Oh, Lord. Just when I think you've got me worried or mad and I should smack you one, you go and do that to me, and what the hell am I supposed to do in the face of that?”
“It wasn't that good of a line. I've certainly done better before,” he said, thinking back to a few he still remembered more than a little fondly—and others that were painfully bad and awkward—but then he did like that he could still reach Niddie this way. He had started to wonder, after learning the truth of her, how much of what she had done while working for him was a pretense he'd failed to see through and how much of it was real.
“You have, but that's not the point.”
“What is the point?”
She leaned forward, reaching for her coffee again. “That there was a part of me that thought you'd lied about the whole compromise thing and weren't going to contact me again.”
He had considered it. Jason Dean was dead, died all the way back in Sherwood, Ohio, and while his body had lived on, he could never go back to being that person again. He'd never really wanted to, but after all his father had done and the disillusionment he found over his own lies and actions, he knew he couldn't.
That didn't make him good or even sane, just... different.
“You could have tried to lie about that one.”
“And insult you again?”
She sighed. “Sometimes a lie seems better than your worst fears confirmed.”
He knew that better than anyone, he supposed, and since their shared parent was the one that qualified as monster rather than the ones that he'd call pathetic. “I missed you, if that means anything.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it does, you idiot. I missed you, too, though I'm also really worried about you. You had a sort of purpose before. Messed up, some would say, but now you're at loose ends, and since I'm going a bit crazy with that myself, I can only imagine what it's doing to you.”
He had to smile at that. “Hmm. How many Vegas casinos have you pissed off this week?”
“Hey, if they pay for state of the art security, they should have the kind of firewalls that make ordinary hackers run and cry to their mommies about the vicious code, but those idiots were so easy I could practically do it in my sleep. Seriously, who needs Ocean's Eleven when there's me?”
He laughed. “Humble she is not.”
“Shut up. I am a damned good hacker, and I know it.” She grimaced. “Though, I will admit it's getting harder and harder to keep my nefarious side in check, so please tell me you're going back to work and I can help you with it. Please.”
“And has this nefarious side been sending Veronica wedding related paraphernalia?”
“Maybe.” Enid said, fidgeting a little. “I mean, no, because obviously she's off to get her head screwed on properly and reconnect with old friends and what kind of a jerk would I be to interrupt that with unpleasant reminders of a cover she despises?”
“You sent her something before walking in this coffee shop.”
“Damn it, how do you do that?”
“Psychic.”
“Liar.”
He smirked. “Ah, darling baby sis. I know you all too well. So what was it this time? Dishes, right? You picked out the perfect pattern for her new kitchen.”
“Okay, that's straight up crazy, and I'd almost believe you were the real thing with that one,” Enid said. She took out her phone and pulled up a screen. “Still, this isn't half bad, is it? It's black, it's blue, and it's perfect.”
He frowned. “Since when do I give a rat's ass about dishware?”
“It's supposed to be your kitchen, too.”
He shook his head. That wasn't going to happen, either. “Stop sending Veronica wedding stuff.”
“I know she didn't call you to complain because no one has your number now,” Enid said, folding her arms over her chest. “Are you stalking her again?”
“We're in Reno. She's in Ohio, and you know how I feel about technology,” he said. “Nice phone, by the way.”
“You never did buy me a new one, asshole.”
“I know.”
“And you also know that as much as I love chats like these, I have to get back to my mother before she assumes my absence is a good reason to get wasted all over again,” Enid said. “You could come with me.”
He wasn't setting foot in Vegas again if he could avoid it. “I'll pass.”
“Jay—”
“I'll let you know if I find anything worth doing.”
Veronica got the text message with the link and almost swore. She was going to kill Enid. This should have died the moment they left that damned bridal shop, but no, Enid just wouldn't stop. And neither would Heather or Heather, as one wanted to plan the wedding for her and the other was just so happy for her that Veronica had a hard time admitting the whole damned thing was a lie.
Though, without a groom, there was no way they'd ever see the real thing happen, and as the man in question was supposed to be dead, there would never be a groom.
All of which Enid knew, so she shouldn't be sending Veronica dish patterns, as she had been all day, damn it.
“Another one from Enid?” Betty asked, leaning over to look at Veronica's phone. She hit the link quickly, bringing up the internet browser so that Betty wouldn't see the nasty responses Veronica had sent in response to some of the others.
“Oh, Veronica, I think that's a perfect dish set for you. Black and blue... It's just your colors,” Martha said, sweet and totally missing the point.
“Yeah, Heather Chandler may have been wrong about a lot of things, but not that combination and you,” Heather Duke said. “It still looks good on you, which is why I think you should stick with those colors for the wedding, too. A bit dark, but you would be horrible in pastels, and the last bridezilla I had just about put me off those colors for the rest of my life. I used to like green, but that one... It was like their attempt to be nauseatingly cute made everyone lose their lunches.”
“Ew.”
“I could have used other descriptions,” Duke said with a bit of malice in her smile as she reached for her drink. “I'm not kidding about the colors, Veronica. Blue is your color, so is black, but the advantage of both of those classics is that they won't look bad on any of the people in your wedding party, either.”
Veronica bit her lip and tried not to scream. She was not getting married. Enid had told Heather McNamara that, claiming it was a cover, but it was spite, and they both knew it. She had to end this, here and now.
Her phone buzzed again, and Veronica almost swore, tempted to throw it and break it.
Jay says I'd better leave you alone or he'll never buy me another coffee so long as I live.
Veronica swallowed, picking up the phone and typing with shaky fingers. You've seen him?
Yes. And something's wrong. Can we just pretend you're not completely fucked up so you can come down here? I need your help getting him to stay.
Veronica frowned. That was a bad idea and not part of the plan. What do you mean?
You know him. He wouldn't say, but he won't come any closer than Reno. Something's wrong, and whatever it is, it happened here in Vegas.
You think it's about your mom and his dad? Or is it something new?
I don't know what it is, but he's been weird since you came back into his life. This is your mess. You come fix it.
“Veronica?” Betty asked, sounding concerned. “Is something wrong?”
Veronica bit her lip. She didn't know. With JD, it was almost impossible to say what wasn't wrong. He was a mess, but then so was she. Still, as much as she knew JD had changed, when things went wrong with him, people died. “Maybe.”
“Something up with your fiancé?” Duke asked, almost sounding like she'd enjoy that.
“He's a bit of a trouble magnet,” Veronica muttered, rising from her chair and cursing herself as she did. The less she said about her not-fiancé the better. She risked saying too much and having one of them—none of these women were idiots—realize that her new fiancé was entirely too much like her supposedly dead boyfriend.
“What now?”
“No idea, but Enid's worried, and she doesn't scare easily,” Veronica said. She would give Enid that much. For all her squeamishness about blood, that woman did keep a pretty clear head in a crisis, and she knew her brother well. If she thought something was wrong with JD, it probably was.
Damn it.